A reflection on generosity, gratitude, and noticing the gifts that sustain us.

Rev. Hannah Lovaglio

Epiphany is the season of revelation. Light breaks in, begging our recognition and response. It begins with the Magi, who see what others miss. They notice the star, honor the Christ child whose birth it signals, and give – extravagantly. Their noticing protects what is otherwise fragile. And so, we might imagine, Mary writes a thank-you note.

Dear Magi,

I am writing to thank you for your recent visit and generous gifts. We’ve arrived safely in Egypt, and I am praying for your safe travel as well. So much feels uncertain, but your clarity concerning our child has honestly been a lifeline. I’ve never received such generous gifts. Joseph and I will treasure them, even if we are not yet sure what to do with them. I imagine they’ll prove more than useful in God’s good time.

With sincere gratitude,

Mary (the mother of Jesus)

January is a fitting time to talk about thank-you notes.

Christmas is over; only impossible bits of glitter and a credit card statement remain. Before we move on to the next thing, we stop to say ‘thank you’ for the gifts that filled our hearths and homes. Maybe Santa even left a pack of thank-you cards in your stocking.

Thank you notes are not administrative niceties; they are a spiritual practice. Writing a thank-you note slows us down. It requires attention. It asks us to remember that behind every pledge, gift, and act of generosity is a person who chose to respond to God’s invitation. In Epiphany language, thank you notes offer a moment of seeing and recognizing Christ’s light reflected in the faithfulness of another.

So why is it so hard to write them?

Some reasons are practical. We tell ourselves we don’t have time. The stack of notes feels overwhelming. Where do we begin? The stationery is beautiful, but will our words suffice? Putting feelings into words can feel clumsy or repetitive. Sometimes we assume someone else will handle it, or that a mass email or printed receipt will suffice. We said thank you when we last saw them, surely that’s enough?

Other reasons run deeper. Writing a thank-you note is a vulnerable act. It requires that we name our dependence and admit that the ministry we love is sustained by gifts not our own. It engages generosity relationally, not transactionally. And that can feel uncomfortable. But no response to a gift is a response.

Practicing Gratitude: Tips and Tricks

It doesn’t have to be that hard. Simply begin.

Beautiful stationery and a nice pen can be surprisingly motivating. You have permission to skip the well-meaning but uninspiring, flimsy, printed-in-house card. Choose something that feels worth writing on and offers a glimpse of God’s beauty before a word has been written.

Bring a box of thank-you notes to the session meeting, along with a list of folks who need to be thanked, and begin with 5 minutes of spiritual practice. Better yet, come prepared with addresses and stamps, and delegate the task of mailing them.

For a bit of fun, try pairing gratitude with an existing habit. Every time you get an email that makes you want to scream, close your laptop and write a thank-you note to someone else. Win-win.

Our grateful response to God’s grace is the heart of Reformed theology.

So let that gratitude spill beyond the pages of thank-you notes. Start and end every meeting, and every email, with a word of gratitude.

Thank You, Epiphany!

Epiphany reminds us that God’s work has always been sustained through the gifts of others. The faithfulness, trust, and courage of others, as well as their tangible and financial support. What the Magi offered mattered more than Mary could know in the moment. Their gifts and wisdom helped her family survive and allowed them to participate in God’s unfolding story. We can imagine that each time Mary reached for one of their gifts – the gold, frankincense, or myrrh – she was reminded that God provides, perhaps when she most needed to remember it.

When pastors and church leaders take up the spiritual practice of writing thank-you notes, not just in Epiphany but all year long, they participate in a divine exchange. Generosity and gratitude are named and received in return, revealing God’s goodness and grace in, through, and around the exchange. Our faith can’t help but grow.

In any season of church life, but especially when churches are inviting bold generosity for the sake of mission and ministry, thank-you notes become quiet acts of leadership. They build and buttress a culture of gratitude rather than one of pressure. They root financial conversations in relationship rather than obligation. They say: I see you. I treasure your gift. You are a part of the story of this place.

Epiphany, the revelation of God here and now, invites a response. The Magi go home by another road. Joseph packs up the family and flees for safety. In the chaos, Mary ponders and treasures, and perhaps even takes the time to write a note of thanks.

We’re invited to do the same.

Not because it’s strategic (though it is).

Not because it’s polite (though it is).

But because gratitude, practiced faithfully, opens our eyes to the light already shining and names generosity for what it is: a gift from God, offered through the hands of God’s people.

~Hannah