I looked up a nice little Mexican restaurant close to my hotel, borrowed my coworker's convertable (Chrysler Sebring, don't get too excited), and went to enjoy some of my favorite ethnic food. As I was drinking in the sights (senoritas that make my pants want to get up and salsa dance), sounds (the total lack of birthday singing mariachi bands) and Pacificos, I noticed a couple getting ready to eat. Not by wetting their whistles with margaritas, but by holding hands and speaking to an entity that they have never seen any proof of it's existance (or so I presume...hahaha).
I really don't have any problems with this other than the complete lack of logic. Why thank something for the food in front of you other than the people that were directly responsible for putting that food there. "Higher entity" didn't plant the seed, fertilize, water, harvest, raise the cow for slaughter, transport, prep, cook or deliver that chimichunga to your table. People did that. If you really want to give thanks to somebody/something responsible for your dining, just politely say thank you to the waitress.
But perhaps that isn't enough for you, and you don't have the time to thank the cooks, truck drivers, farmers and ranchers. You just desperately need to thank something that doesn't exist but is still able to give you the warm fuzzies. I propose you thank the primary source of external energy that our earth sees: The Sun.
I realize I've sort of proposed a dilemma for the fun loving christians of [The] America. You are now thanking (read: worshiping) the sun. Some call it Apollo.
Damn, I guess that doesn't make the religious folk of today much different than those of yester-lore: worshiping that which they don't understand.
...because it doesn't exist.
While at the fine Mexican restaurant I also discovered a startling fact about St. Francis, that lovable ass-clown that spent his life with the animals instead of getting a real job (these days they call him "rat-man" or "cat-woman" and send him/her to the state mental hospital). Well it turns out that Mr. Fran had a trick up his sleeve for attracting said animals...

That A-hole had them addicted to cancersticks!