Some Buy Turkeys and Others Have Turkeys Thrust Upon Them

Throwback Turkey grumble:

It’s January and I’m cooking a turkey for no particular reason. I didn’t even buy this turkey; some buy turkeys and others have turkeys thrust upon them. I’m doing it as a favor for Connie, and I ought to have a better attitude, as Connie is well past 70 and has recently been dealing with breast cancer. Someone else thought they were doing Connie a favor when they gave her this turkey, but the oven in the retirement community where she lives is too small and it has been taking up all of her freezer space since November. 

What can you say when you ask “Is there anything we can do for you?” and the response is “Please cook my turkey.” So I’m cooking a turkey, but I’m not happy about it. Maybe I’m not happy because Connie only wants “some of the meat” back, which means I’m going to have to carve and debone this turkey. Maybe I’m not happy because Connie has two grown sons who live in town who almost certainly have ovens. Maybe I’m not happy because the turkey neck had been shoved so far up into the abdominal cavity that I literally had to get out pliers and stabilize the turkey by clutching it to my chest to get enough purchase to pull that thing out of there, and then I was covered in turkey slime and had to go change my clothes and wipe up the floor. Maybe I’m not happy because I’m kind of a selfish jerk who should just get over it and stop complaining about the minor inconvenience of cooking someone else’s turkey. But I think mostly I’m unhappy because the turkey is a metaphor for the kind of service that church membership brings, the kind that finds you rather than you finding it.

On my better days, this kind of thing is exactly why I go to church. If left to my own devices I would probably find some way to serve. (Occasionally). I would volunteer at the food bank, or maybe go back to volunteering at the library, where I didn’t have to talk to anyone and where I never ended the day with my cats sniffing at the stains on my forearm. I would help out, for sure. But I suspect there would often be other things to do on any given day. I suspect that my volunteerism would rarely be uncomfortable for me, or involve any actual sacrifice. I’d hang out almost entirely with people who have similar senses of humor, whose voting record rather conveniently matches mine exactly. Church throws me into a mix. It makes me do nice things for OTHER people, possibly people I don’t even like very much. And, It makes me cook turkeys, which I definitely don’t like very much. On my better days, church makes me a better person.

But I guess that today isn’t one of my better days. It makes me wonder, in the overall accounting of my life do I get more points because I did this even though I didn’t want to? Or way fewer points because I complained about it the whole time? Have I just become spoiled, so that any minor inconvenience is cause for complaint? (probably) Or is it understandable to grouse when I’m signed up to spend my time in ways that I wouldn’t choose, for causes that maybe aren’t essential? I’m sometimes irritable of the expectations- that I will say yes to jobs at church, that Theo will serve a mission, that we will all go clean the church at 8am on our assigned Saturday morning. I believe in cleaning when you’ve helped make the mess. I believe in shoveling your elderly neighbor’s driveway. I believe in connecting with people who aren’t just like me. Theoretically I believe in cooking turkeys for breast cancer survivors, and maybe someday I’ll even be glad to do it. But today is not that day. Today I’ve got a turkey in the oven and no thanksgiving in my heart. Maybe I’ll do better tomorrow.