November 27, 2003

Thanksgiving Day

Nehemiah 7:73B-8:3, 6, 9-12; Acts 4:23-35; Matthew 18:18-20

So this is how it begins—About three weeks ago there were telephone calls—When are you coming home? Do you have a ride yet? You know your grandparents are expecting us. More calls followed with more or less identical conversations. They are after all college students which means that what ever is planned this week may change next week—next day—next hour. Ultimately one arrived home at 3:30 a.m. last Saturday (since the University of Illinois is off for the entire week of Thanksgiving)—the other had classes until Tuesday afternoon but found a ride that dropped him off at Oakbrook Mall where his girlfriend picked him up and brought him home by around 11 p.m.

The gathering had begun. When we think of Thanksgiving we almost automatically think of gatherings. The driving question of most every conversation this past week sooner or later got around to asking, “What are your plans for Thanksgiving?” with the assumption that the plans will indicate some type of gathering. Last Saturday I called my parents in Minnesota and asked the question—expecting to hear how and where the clan would be gathering—but my Mother said that it looked like there would be only three for Thanksgiving. Seems all my siblings were committed to working or being at other in-law’s homes—So it would be three—my father, mother and one brother whose wife had to work and his daughters would be with their boyfriend’s families. Almost heretically my mother suggested that she had begun to hint to my father that maybe they should go out to eat for Thanksgiving. I felt a bit sad that the gathering would be so small—I should have remembered how unpredictable families can be—48 hours later when I next talked to Minnesota my mother reported that schedules had changed and that there would now be at least 18 at the farm for Thanksgiving.

We Gather Together—the words are a familiar hymn—the theme for this morning’s worship—and capture the human need that lies at the center of Thanksgiving. Gathering together. Our first lesson for today from the Old Testament book of Nehemiah recalls another gathering—the date was October 8, 445 B.C. A people long exiled in a distant land had returned at last to Jerusalem—rebuilding and fortifying the city—restoring the temple for worship—reclaiming the Law of Moses and the rituals of the faith. And then comes the great moment of the gathering of the people together at the gate of the city—the Feast of the Trumpets it was called for the sound of the shofar—the rams horn—echoing through the land.—Later generations would come to know the day as Rosh Hashanah. The new year begun—signaling the end of the harvest season and the promise of preparing for new yields—Gathered—all the people gathered we are told—Men and women—In a culture and time that was defined by the men this gathering was for all the people—Men, women and children—the whole family.

A gathering we are told made holy by God and as a result a day not for grieving or worry but for joy—Ezra the priest declares a day that sounds like much of what this day will be—“Go your way, eat the fat and drink the sweet wine”—There was no turkey yet—That American bird would wait 2000 years to be savored by any Asian, Mediterranean or European palate. But it is good to know that we have a scriptural directive for this day—regardless of how unhealthy—“Go your way, eat the fat and drink the sweet wine.”—thus says the prophet of the Lord—for this is a holy day—a holiday. A holy day is a day for joy—a holy day is a day of food and feasting. But there is one thing more. When the people gather in the promise of God they are also to remember those “for whom nothing is prepared”—to remember to share—to give to others.

We see this same teaching in the second lesson for today—the book of Acts recalls the early Christian community gathering—remembering—eating—and then having been gathered together they are blessed by the Spirit and share their blessings Having been so blessed—they cannot hold things to themselves—The joy of faith is the joy of sharing—of giving to others—Thanksgiving is an act that takes us outside of ourselves—If we are honestly thankful for that which we have received we cannot keep it to ourselves—we give it to others.

The early Christian community went so far as to hold all things in common for the good of all. Gathering is a human need—and gives focus to ones faith. A solo is a beautiful sound—but the choir is a fuller sound—the orchestra filled with more complexity. A single note can stand alone—but the musical score communicates more and takes us places no single sound venture to present. Gathering together says there is promise of relationship and future society—things to do and promises to share. So in 1621 the Puritans gathered—gathered with Native Americans who came to them with gifts from their bounty—and while there is no record thankfulness as the purpose of the gathering—there clearly was a sharing of what gifts the people had received from God through the harvest—and there is implied if not stated expectations of the promise of shared community—shared challenges of survival. Two years later the Puritans again gathered in prayer to face the challenge of a drought—and when the rains fell during the gathering we are told the people turned to thanksgiving and praise in response to God’s blessings.

So history chronicles the story of Thanksgiving in the United States—An emerging nation in 1777 is called to prayer and thanksgiving by a commanding general and future president to give thanks for the few victories and the promise of the future—Almost a hundred years later a nation caught up in a great Civil War—is guided by its president to embrace a day of prayer and thanksgiving to remind the people that the trials of the day are also filled with moments that are holy—blessed by God. So through the centuries the people have gathered—And the words of the Christ have blessed the gathering—“where two or three are gathered together in my name, I am there among them”—Jesus present means something more than merely social interaction—there is the blessing of the spirit—and a call to go beyond the gathering.

It is the Spirit that makes the gathering holy—The Spirit that makes this day holy. The Spirit does not let us become too comfortable—There is clearly an expectation in Christ’s words that when two or more people meet together—something will happen—something must be done. I do not think this is an accident of human nature—it is a gift of the Spirit. God intends for those who gather to want something to happen—to engage the world around them. Thanksgiving will not pass without action—a response. The merchants—of course—want us to respond in a frenzy of buying—The holiness of God on this day has slightly different expectations. The presence of the holy in and around us causes us to yearn for something more—It is not enough to simply be blessed—to receive—We also must respond—we must pass on—give back. So the end of the harvest season in culture after culture throughout the centuries—is the need repeated again and again to have a harvest festival—a gathering of the people—a gathering together.

And when the gathering finds its true direction and purpose the people respond to their God—with thankfulness for the blessings received—and then a desire to share the blessings with others. With those “for whom nothing is prepared”. It was true 2,448 years ago at the gates of Jerusalem—It was true 382 years ago in the Plymouth settlement—It is true today at tables across America—As we gather together we ask the Lord’s blessing and then we give thanks—And if we are true to our calling as people of God we also do more—we give ourselves to others—through our prayers—our time—our talents and our resources. To do anything less is to deny ourselves and our God who has blessed us. This is a holy day—let us not forget that—God has made this day. We gather together—gathered by God—blessed by God—thankful to God.

Amen.