I am going to tell you a story. Keep in mind that it is just a story. In fact, because it has elements of magical impossibility, it can even be called a fairy tale. As such, it begins with that familiar line common to all good stories and fairy tales.

Once upon a time, there was a village named Tranquil. It was an enormously blessed place. Tranquil had no serious problems. There was no homelessness, no food kitchens for the hungry, no street crime, and no white-collar crime. The roads were without potholes and every village bridge was structurally sound. There was no unemployment and no one was dissatisfied with working conditions or pay rates. Every child had full opportunity for an excellent education. No citizen ever complained about being treated unfairly. The needs of every person were met. This little village set high on a hillside was richly blessed. Because the citizenry thoroughly understood this, every day the Tranqulians gave thanks for their good fortune.

One special circumstance made these blessings possible. The village was governed by the one they called the Giant. In his possession was a goose that laid eggs of solid gold. The proceeds from those eggs were used for the benefit of the people of Tranquil.

No one remembered from whence came this goose. It was rumored the Giant had imported the goose at great expense from a distant land. He then dedicated the golden egg production to the needs of the village. In exchange for his generosity, the Giant expected the loyalty of the people. A more well-founded rumor is that the Giant himself started that rumor about his bringing the goose into Tranquil. Actually no one knew how the goose came to be in the village. But mark this, a goose that laid golden eggs lived in Tranquil and that gold was behind the village's motto: "Tranquil, Where Contented People Have Their Needs Met."

Now do not misunderstand. This was not a village of great wealth. It was just a comfortable community. Every egg laid was not golden. Usually the goose eggs were of the ordinary variety: white, in a fragile shell, egg-shaped, and filled with the usual goose egg ingredients. Only on occasion did the goose deliver a solid-gold egg. When that happened, the people celebrated.

Tranquil was a great place to live. No one went hungry. The village budget always balanced. Strangers were always welcomed. Every person in this village on the hill kept a pleasant smile on his or her face. Of course, the goose was greatly loved and appreciated. In fact, spontaneous festivals of thanksgiving regularly erupted on the village green more frequently than the goose laid a gold egg. Life was good in Tranquil.

Then something changed. The goose, which never laid more than one golden egg per month, suddenly began to lay golden eggs every two weeks. No one understood why. They assumed it was another blessing to an already blessed village. According to established custom, the proceeds from the extra gold continued to be distributed, never equally, but always with fairness and justice. When the egg production doubled, the village doubled their celebrations of thanksgiving.

Eventually, a local scientist determined the cause of the goose's largesse. The magic had a logical explanation. New people assigned to caring for the goose had changed the brand of her feed. They also left the light burning in her coop an extra two hours every day. For reasons no one could explain, these changes increased the production of golden eggs.

Before long, one of the Giant's advisors openly wondered that if this new food and two more hours of light doubled the golden eggs, perhaps even more light and more of the new feed might be rewarded with even more golden eggs. With the Giant's permission, it was tried. The scheme worked. The experiments in adding food and light continued. In a matter of weeks, the light burned 24 hours each day in the goose coop and she always had food available. The goose began to lay a golden egg every day.

In a matter of months, there was more gold than could reasonably be used. One egg per month met the needs of the people. Finding good ways to utilize thirty golden eggs each month became unexpectedly problematic.

The usually generous people of Tranquil could have resolved this issue by distributing the extra eggs to neighboring villages. That idea was rejected when it was successfully argued that since the goose belongs to Tranquil, so do her eggs. The neighbors are entitled to nothing.

It was decided to keep all the golden eggs in hopes a way could be found to make the Tranquilians even more satisfied with their lives. That did not work. The abundance of gold awakened powerful passions from a dark shadowy recess within the people. They began to do things they never did before.

The Giant, you will remember, was the caring ruler of Tranquil. He was widely known as a generous man who cared as much for his people as he cared for himself. When the gold began to accumulate, he changed. To his closest advisors he claimed, "The people have all they need. I will keep this extra gold supply for myself." The Giant began to hide golden eggs in his castle.

The people of Tranquil had trusted the Giant's fairness and generosity. They became suspicious. "We are not getting our share," they complained. If pressed on the matter, people readily admitted that they had no real unmet needs. They began to contend, "Needs are not the issue. The Giant has more gold than he is sharing. Our needs are met. Now our wants must be met. We are entitled."

As might be predicted, some hotheads in Tranquil began to plot to break into the castle and steal the Giant's hidden gold. One group even planned to steal the goose and keep all the gold themselves. The Giant hired an army to protect his life and his gold.

Things began to change in Tranquil. Within a year, the Giant's royal treasury was filled to capacity. Every nook and cranny in the castle contained gold. The sheer abundance of gold eggs made it possible for the families who were close friends of the Giant to possess an egg for which they had no other use than to keep it as a prized possession. Of course, the economic conditions of most families stayed about the same. All their needs were met, while their wants increased and their sense of entitlement rose as bitter bile in the back of their throats.

No longer did the people rejoice and give thanks when the goose laid a golden egg. It happened too often to evoke celebration. The occasion no longer warranted dancing in the streets. No longer was there trust between the Giant and his people. Escalating levels of greed and selfishness made that impossible. The biggest change was that Tranquil was no longer tranquil. People lost sleep at night worrying about the possibility of someone stealing the golden egg they possessed. More often, they lost sleep fearing a robbery by someone who thought they possessed a golden egg when they did not. Even life on the streets in the village changed. The Giant's bodyguards and the soldiers hired to protect the castle roamed the village streets during their off hours terrifying the citizenry. No longer were visitors welcomed. Now they were looked upon with disgust. Strangers were thought to be potential thieves trying to benefit from the wealth of Tranquil.

It was a sad scene. The once-happy people of this village became a frightened, mistrusting, miserable lot. A dark, all-consuming passion had awakened within them. Some called it greed. Other's thought jealousy was a better term. Still others claimed it was only a desire to "get their fair share." By any other name it was like a "Gold Fever" that had a powerful demonic hold on the people of the village. The abundance of golden eggs, which should have been a blessing, was proving to be a curse.

Then came the inevitable. In hushed tones the Giant announced that the goose that laid golden eggs was dead. There had been warnings. Her health had been declining. No living creature could maintain the pace demanded of the beloved goose. In the frenetic effort to accumulate more gold, all the warnings signs had gone unheeded. "The goose is dead. Long live the goose."

This tale began with the familiar "Once upon a time." It ends with "they did not live happily ever after." A permanent fog of grief, anger, and sadness hung over the village. The place was never the same again. Trust in the Giant and other leaders eroded. Crime became commonplace. There were no more spontaneous celebrations of thanksgiving. Those were replaced by angry street demonstrations. Sometimes demonstrators demanded more of the gold be shared with them. Other times demonstrators wanted to make the point that they should never have to share with anyone. That con?ict is inevitable when a people jettison other values in favor of "It's all about me and what I want." The Tranquil village motto was eventually changed from "Where Contented People Have Their Needs Met" to "Dwelling Place of the Disgruntled."

There are several lessons that might be learned from this little tale. The story touches on the dangers of greed and selfishness. It says something about the importance of being a thankful people. It is also a warning. Take care lest you kill the goose that lays the golden eggs. For today, let us focus on what it teaches about that persistent issue: What makes people really happy, really satisfied, and really whole?

There is a man who lives in a big house in one of the city's better neighborhoods. His annual income ranks in the top 5-10% in the country. He recently returned from a church-sponsored mission trip to the rain forest of Central America. The church group built an addition on the school in a rural Mayan village. "I was surprised," the man said. "The villagers don't have much. They live in thatched-roof, dirt-floored houses. Their farms keep them fed, but little more. No one is oppressed, but opportunity is limited. They have none of the luxuries we take for granted. Yet the people in that little village are happy and disgruntled in about the same proportion as people are happy and disgruntled in my neighborhood. It seems that once basic human needs are met, accumulating more doesn't insure more happiness. I guess that should not surprise me. Jesus made that same point a multitude of times. I am enormously satisfied with my life, but I was a happy man when we were a young couple with two children, living in a rented house, owned one car and I had a job that didn't pay much."

John 6 opens with an account of Jesus feeding the five thousand. You know the story well. When the meal was over, Jesus and the apostles leave for the other side of the lake. The next day, some of those who got the free lunch come to Jesus in hopes of a repeat. The Master chastises them. "Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life" (vv. 26-27). He continues with instruction on how they ate from the bread of this world and became hungry again. If they eat of the bread of heaven, they will not become hungry again. Then he says, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty" (v. 35).

Thanksgiving Day is a very appropriate time to give thanks for the abundance of life's material blessings. Give thanks but do not get caught up in the mistaken notion that if you accumulate more of the wealth of this world, you will be a happier person. It doesn't work that way. Possessing more does not guarantee an increase of happiness. Satisfying life's deepest thirst and hunger does not come from drinking at the fountain of the world's treasures or from eating the bread from the baker's oven. Life's most persistent thirst and deepest hunger will be satisfied only by drinking at the fountain of eternal life and eating the bread of heaven.

Thanks be to God. Amen and Amen.