Let us pray: O God, we gather as thankful people. At least that's how we want to be. Help us to know the abundance of your love. Help us to respect the incredible gift of creation and creativity. Guide these words that they may help us all to live in and with gratitude. Amen.

It's a beautiful passage, that first one read by Lorne. Every time I read and hear it, it brings me pleasure. I think it is because it is concise and respectful and because it serves not only as a method for remembering, but also for passing on the memory and the rationale for offering thanks.

This past week I was in Calgary to chair the October meeting of the Executive of Alberta and Northwest Conference. The opening worship, prepared by people of the Central Region of our Conference chose to use this passage as the theme. After a few words of introduction – the people in attendance at the meeting were invited to tell a story of their own wanderings. While it took much longer than anticipated, it was an incredible time. No pun intended, but people chose different directions in telling their story. Some told the story of their lives as a faith journey. Others told stories of where they'd lived in their lives. Some told the story from the perspective of their connection with the church. It was inspiring, touching and deeply moving to hear stories from these people who have been called to offer leadership in the church in many different ways. It also pointed out to me, in a very specific way the kinds of connection that I've come to expect, as a sign of God's presence. One of the people in the circle is a lay woman who lives in Sherwood Park. I've known Louise for some time. In her story she said that she was born in a small village in Ontario and then went on to say some more about the way her life had unfolded. When it was time for me to tell my story, I chose to name some of the places where I've lived including the village and town where I spent the first five and seven years of my life, namely Warkworth and Campbellford, Ontario. Afterwards Louise came to me and told me that the small village she had referred to was Stirling – very close to both of the places I named. With this connection we talked a bit more. I told her that my mother was the person with the close connection to that part of Ontario, and only a couple of connections later and I was told that my grandmother, Nellie Meiklejohn, was Louise's grade three teacher, a teacher that Louise named as her favourite.

This is the power of story. If we had not told these stories in this way during that opening worship, Louise and I would likely never have learned of this connection between us. My grandma, Nellie Meiklejohn died when I was fourteen years old. Who would ever think that I would make a connection with her in this way some forty-two years later. But that's how story works. It goes beyond our individual lives to link us in a web of connection – a web that links time and space together.

I think that's why the people at harvest time were invited to bring the first of the year's production – not the last dregs of the produce, but the first and best of the harvest, as an offering to God, and to tell their story. Both of these actions connected them to God – reminded them of who and whose they were. It was due to the blessing of God, the gift of creation, the gift of life that they had a harvest at all, and it was important to return the first and the best to God. It was also important to tell their story – to remember – because that's what telling it helped them to do – to remember how their lives, their journey was a journey accompanied by God.

Someone at the meeting this week, in referring to the passage, pointed out that there are two aspects to it. There is the settling down aspect. Once you have entered the land that God has promised to you, you are to do these things. That's how it begins. But there is also the wandering aspect. The people are to recite the story – a wandering Aramean was my father – wandering to Egypt and then in Exodus out of Egypt – until arrival in this place. Life is often described as a journey. I usually invite people to think of their life of faith as a journey. There are problems in thinking about reaching a destination at least in terms of our faith. A settled faith might seem to be too complacent, too likely for us to come to an understanding that everything is all wrapped up without any need to continue to explore.

And yet we also need a place where we can be settled. A place to rest, to find comfort can be a place of renewal and refreshment, a place to gird our minds and souls for the continuation of the journey. The key is not to engage in one or the other, but to find a healthy balance between the two – to see that there is always more to discover, always more to learn, but also to see that sometimes we need the settled, comfortable place where needs are met and we are given the opportunity for deeper contemplation, for deeper consideration of what renews our spirit.

Today, we shared part of our faith journey with Rovenjay, his parents and his sister. In the covenant which we named in words, but which is lived out in action, we heard the promise to hear the story of the roots of our faith. This is exactly what that passage from Deuteronomy says to our ancestors in the faith. Tell the story of the roots of our faith. It reminds us, as I said earler, of who and whose we are. But there is more to the promise – and live in response to the gospel. Hearing the story is only part of the picture, it is only two-dimensional. The third dimension, the direction that brings it off the page and gives it action is the way we respond to the story.

What story will those who follow us in the faith tell? Will it stop at us? Or will it be a story which grows and continues because we not only told it, but we lived it. We heard the story and the story became our story to tell with our lives.

Thanks is not something we just give with our lips. It is something we offer with our lives. In gratitude for the ways in which we are blessed by God, we are called to be a blessing.

Tell your story. Connect it with God's story. You never know how that connection will weave a web that helps others to find a way that is also part of God's way.

Thanks be to God for the abundance of creation. Thanks be to God for the gift we are given to be a blessing for others. Thanks be to God for the gift of creativity – a gift which helps us to hear the story and to be the story. Amen.