Thanks for our day of giving

It turns out that most of what we think we know about Thanksgiving, that apparently most American of all holidays, is not as true as we might think it is.

It turns out that most of what we think we know about Thanksgiving, that apparently most American of all holidays, is not as true as we might think it is.

There may not have been any turkeys at the Pilgrim’s feast. We certainly know there were no parades or football games to enjoy, and the next day brought no mad dash to the stores to begin the official Christmas buying season.

It turns out that many cultures have declared certain days to be “days of thanksgiving.” Often associated with military victories or the end of a plague or some other noteworthy event in the life of a city or a nation, setting aside a day for giving thanks is as old as civilization. Ever since human beings depended on the bounty of the land for winter sustenance, it was a natural act to rejoice over the fall harvest.

Thus, the Thanksgiving that most of us know and love really is a product of the 20th century, aided and abetted by our consumer society.

At the core of this holiday lie four truths about human beings that seem eternal. One is our continuing, though reluctant, understanding that we are not fully in charge of our world. We are dependent still, even in this post-modern age, on forces we cannot control. Thus, we give thanks when the world happens to support our plans and our desires.

We also reveal our deep association of joy with good fellowship and abundant food. When we are with people we know and love, and when we have enough to eat and drink, life really is pretty good. That the table is modest or the food plain is irrelevant. What matters is the nourishment we derive from food, drink and having companions to share it all with. Many religions know this and make a symbolic meal the center of their worship.

The third truth is a fundamental human need to share the bounty of our lives with others. Every Thanksgiving story includes an invitation to the “others” to share in the largesse of the community. As Saint Francis of Assisi reminded us all, it is in giving that we receive. To share is to love; to share is to be fully alive; to share is to come close to the divine.

Lastly, all thanksgivings speak to our enduring hope for better times to come. Thanksgivings have occurred in times of war and in times of peace, in times of plenty and in times of want. But regardless of how little there might be to share with those we love, regardless of how out of control our world might seem, still we gather to break bread together, to give thanks for all that we have, and to hope for a better future for us all.

This Thanksgiving may not be one of the better ones for many of us. Times are hard, but the eternal truths that underlie all the parades and TV specials and football games and shopping frenzies remain. We are not fully in control of the world and we depend on others every day. It is the comfort of friends and loved ones with whom we share what we have that gives us hope. And we pray for better times to come for ourselves, our loved ones, our community, and the world.

This Thanksgiving, whether we gather in large groups or in small groups or even alone, let us all bow our heads and make our thanks for all that we have and all that we are and all that we will yet become.

The Rev. Dr. Dennis S. Tierney is the rector of Saint Barnabas Episcopal Church in Bainbridge Island.