By Ms. Viviana Marshall

It has been asserted that gratitude is the most foundational of virtues. It has also been asserted that gratitude is, at best, a weakness. These two statements seem to hold each other in locked grip, completely at odds. Their opposition is only exaggerated when you learn that the former is argued by A. W. Tozer and Marcus Tullius Cicero and that the latter is argued by Aristotle and Joseph Stalin. But what if both assertions could be true? What if gratitude is as much of a virtuous premise as it is an acknowledgement of true weakness?

Gratitude originates in the Latin gratus, which means a pleasing, agreeable, and gracious attitude. This definition refers to one’s entire being. You either are grateful or not grateful at all. You either have a good virtue foundation, or you are weak.

Anyone who has studied logic would see the fallacy of bifurcation staring them down like an angry bull would stare down a Spaniard holding a red cape. So, both statements must be dissected to find their truths and errancies.

The postulation of gratitude as the most foundational of virtues is almost true. As Christians, we are commanded to be critical in our analysis of such things (1 Pet. 3:15). Therefore, a contention like this ought to bring questions to the forefront of the Christian’s mind, especially concerning the lack of acknowledgement of and emphasis on Christian love (Matt. 22:36-40).

The second postulation of gratitude as a weakness seems too far from our surface-level realities to accept as completely true either. Its most glaring error is not its failure to acknowledge the hardships that make gratitude a show of strength, but rather its assumption that weakness is something to be avoided. 

What then can be gleaned from these half truths? That the Christian has a uniquely grateful life. Whether one subscribes to virtue ethics, utilitarianism, or any of the many other ethics systems, the Christian grounds themselves in God’s truth and holds fast to Christ at the center of it all. “I believe in Christianity like I believe in the sun: not only that I can see it, but because by it I can see everything else” (C. S. Lewis).  

Maybe gratitude isn’t the foundation that the Christian virtues are based on, but is the cloud on which the Christian rests and the rose-colored glasses by which he sees the world. The truly grateful person sits on that cloud of gratitude, held up by faith, above all the storms and turmoil of this world and at peace that all is God’s. The rising and setting of the sun, the peaceful and chaotic days, the celebrations and tragedies: God has ordained it all to work to his purposes. We can rest assured that each moment, no matter the degree to which it makes sense or doesn’t, is serving God’s will. While the cloud allows the Christian to be unaffected by much in the world, his rose-colored glasses allow the Christian to critically examine all that is observed in a way that is distinctly Christian. The Christian is explicitly commanded to be thankful, be at peace, and be content. That grateful worldview, or pair of rose-colored glasses, is unique to Christianity and seen in every believer. 

And maybe gratitude truly is weak as the world would see it. 1 Corinthians 1:27 would make this feasible: “But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong.” There are two parts to this: first, the humble understanding that man could never be God. True gratitude itself requires submission to something greater. If you’ve ever attempted to manage people, you can understand why I might be happy about this. Left to me, the world would be in fire and chaos in a matter of minutes. I would be in the background, head in my hands, shaking, wondering what went wrong. Humanity does not have the capacity nor the capability of playing god in any sort of good sense, let alone holding his same responsibilities. Humanity revolves around God, not God around humanity. And it is so good to be a child and let the Father take care of everything. That is what we were designed to be and do: follow him and let him work out the rest. 

Second, the meek love that Christ, the Lord of all, showed by humbling himself to come to earth as man, endure all its flaws, be rejected and killed by it. Jesus, king of all, was considered too weak to be king. His radical love appeared weak to the world because it didn’t come with armies and riches. Yet, the Bible tells us that the incarnation and crucifixion was anything but weak. If weakness comes in crucifixion and resurrection, the most radical of loves, then upon this recognition, no one would ever want to be strong again: the entire premise of Christianity. 

Thus, gratitude is an outpouring of thankfulness, peace, and contentment that can only be found in God’s covenant love. 

It’s odd to think of something as both foundational and needing development. Gratitude is both. In the third grade classroom, we cultivate gratitude in its most obvious form: thankfulness. Daily, students pray for others and praise God for their presence. Daily, students thank others for serving by teaching, cleaning, and holding the door (pass us once, and you’ll hear an endless trail of ‘thank you’ and ‘you’re welcome’). And daily, students demonstrate gratefulness in their actions and willingness to serve. 

Tozer and Cicero were onto something when they described gratitude as foundational. Aristotle and Stalin were onto something when they described gratitude as the ultimate show of weakness. But the ‘foundation’ of gratitude is fluffier and sits higher than they imagined. And we rest on that cloud without concern because, praise God, we are weak.