Why Doesn't Anyone Say Thank You Anymore?

Why doesn’t anyone say “Thank You” Anymore?

Saying thank you is more than good manners. It is good spirituality. Alfred Painter

Anyone in my realm of loved ones knows of my normally flexible, laid back, happy-go-lucky heart and mindset. Indeed, there are only two things in this world that might incite an unrestrained paroxysm of righteous indignation: (1) mistreatment of one of God’s creatures, and (2) unmerited rudeness.

Lately, it seems, I’ve been overwhelmed with the latter. The point in question: Why doesn’t anyone say “Thank You” anymore? There is nothing complicated about giving someone a smile and heartfelt thanks. I wonder, what is so difficult about making that social connection, establishing familiarity, reassuring both parties of their personal value and blessing?

A couple of occasions come to mind:

We have new neighbors. I baked a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies, and took a platter of the warm cookies to the new neighbors as welcome and introduce ourselves. When he finally opened the door, he took the cookies from my hand, and in the middle of introducing myself, he interrupted and said “Okay!” How awkward, as my social graces fought with the fight or flight syndrome. I didn’t know whether to continue my introduction, or flee to the comfortable, warm, gentle safety of my living room with the locked front door.

My coworker and I used to receive flowers, cards, treats, gifts from parishioners and I always made a point of calling the parishioner, speaking to them, then sending a little note. My coworker would send them a text, if anything at all. Really? A text? What if they are unable to receive texts? Or read them? This practice embarrassed me so much, I finally asked her, “Why don’t you just call them and talk to them, or write them a note? Sending a text seems so impersonal, so cold.” The response was eye-opening. Apparently my coworker received so many gifts and cards she didn’t have time to thank everyone, was uncomfortable speaking directly with parishioners, and besides, she was, yes you guessed it, entitled to gifts.

It’s tempting to say that the inability to say thank you only applies to certain age group, but in my experience, this trend is ubiquitous, extending to those well into their forties. I’m occasionally so ashamed at another’s lack of etiquette and friendliness, that I overcompensate and become even more chatty-happy, annoying and pushing the individual farther into their protective bubble of disdain, fear, and social ineptitude.

So, why is this? Why don’t people say thank you anymore? I realize saying thank you requires a certain amount of humility—are babies birthing without the humility gene? Have entitlement issues trumped common courtesy? Has society coarsened such that we’ve become indifferent and detached? By being so cyber-connected have we completely disconnected socially?

Whatever the rationalization, I’m not going to hear thank you from a lot of folks, most of the time. Knowing this feeds my righteous indignation and moral superiority. I humbly admit to this. But my need to edit and change bad behavior is egocentric; it must not consume me, establish a foothold for the enemy, and steal all my joy! I’ve been studying on this for quite some time, and am trying to live and focus on the following:

Colossians 4:5 says “Be wise in the way you act with people who are not believers, making the most of every opportunity. When you talk, you should always be kind and pleasant so you will b e able to answer everyone in the way you should.”

I realize that “being wise in the way I act with people” includes not being disappointed when folks do not act appropriately or kindly. It is just as wrong for me to be indignant at rudeness, as it is for someone to be rude.

It is not my place to judge my neighbor (family, friend, coworker); only God can do that. I must accept whom God accepts!

At the same time, I mustn’t lower my standards of etiquette by becoming part of the norm. Who knows? Perhaps my neighbors are watching my behavior more carefully than I imagine—I must be the example, not the norm.

“God has chosen you and made you his holy people. He loves you. So always do these things: show mercy to others, be kind, humble gentle, and patient. Get along with each other, and forgive each other. If someone does wrong to you, forgive that person because the Lord forgave you. Do all these things; but most important, love each other. Love is what holds you all together in perfect unity. Let the peace that Christ gives control your thinking, because you were all called together in one body to have peace. Always be thankful. “ Colossians 3:12-15

Thank you, thank you, thank you for letting me share!

Jesus+ (Jesus Plus)

We are studying Colossians in our Sunday School…er…Connection Group class, and last Sunday, our inspired and annointed leader was talking about traditions, practices, or rituals that could mislead us and take our focus from Christ, and (all it takes is one word to start me on that rabbit chase!) I began musing tradition. I hurt my brain searching for something in my personal life that was a tradition, ritual, or habit that hindered my walk with Jesus. I began thinking about traditions, in general, that are deceptive.


In the church Paul addressed at Colossae, slowly and deftly they began to believe in the doctrine of salvation by Jesus+. Jesus plus the right religious feast. Jesus plus the New Moon Festival, Jesus plus Sabbath Day--the right ritual was just as important as the right Savior. Paul would have nothing to do with this. If we are saved, it is because God rescued us, and not because we learned the walk. God does the saving and we do the receiving. All we do is accept, and "take up our cross daily."

For many of us, our "tradition" is an addiction, a past hurt that holds us captive, or sick behavior that convinces us that we have control. We don't realize how insidious these "traditions" are, yet if we were to experience just one day completely free of those traditional behaviors, we'd realize how much closer is our walk with the Savior. And so it goes with unusual rituals and new-age wisdom--if these put your mind in a mess, don't be troubled. Try not to be a victim of "before I knew it, I was caught up in it." Ask yourself, "Why?" and consult the scriptures. Keep your focus on Christ through prayer, reading of His word, and reliable Christian fellowship. If you are not sure that something is from the Spirit, tread softly. Back off. Use the Bible as a guide. If they are of the Lord, those unidentified inner promptings won't contradict anything biblically.

Here is a funny story about family tradition—you’ve probably read it a gazillion times, but worth revisiting.

The Easter Ham

The youngest, and most newly-married daughter was excited to be preparing her first Easter dinner for the combined families. She called her mother, as backup, to be sure she was baking the ham correctly. Her mother informed her to be "sure to cut three inches from the ham before you roast it."

Puzzled, the daughter asked her mother "Why?"

"Because that's the way my mother taught me to do it," says mom. "I'm not sure of the reason."

Still not convinced, the daughter calls her grandmother. "Nana," she asked, "Mama says I must cut three inches off of my ham before I bake it. Why is that?"

"Well, sweetie, I'm not sure, but that's how my mother taught me to do it, and I've always done it that way," replied Nana.

The daughter felt a mystery needed solving, and being young, still questioned authenticity (or authority, perhaps, haha), and called her great grandmother. "Nona," she asked, "Nana says you taught her to cut three inches off of the ham before putting it in the oven. Why is that necessary, I wonder?"

"Well dear," Nona replied, "When I was a new bride, just starting out, I baked my first ham for Easter dinner. The ham was 18 inches long. The largest roasting pan I had was 15 inches long, so I had to cut three inches off of the ham to make it fit in the pan."

And so it goes, from generation to generation, until someone asks "Why?"