The First United Methodist Church of Napa, CA

November 20, 2005

Thanksgiving Sunday

Scripture Readings:

 

Hebrew Scripture – Deuteronomy 8: 7-18[1]

 

7For the LORD your God is bringing you into a good land, a land with flowing streams, with springs and underground waters welling up in valleys and hills, 8a land of wheat and barley, of vines and fig trees and pomegranates, a land of olive trees and honey, 9a land where you may eat bread without scarcity, where you will lack nothing, a land whose stones are iron and from whose hills you may mine copper. 10You shall eat your fill and bless the LORD your God for the good land that [God] has given you.

11Take care that you do not forget the LORD your God, by failing to keep [God's] commandments,…ordinances, and…statutes, which I am commanding you today. 12When you have eaten your fill and have built fine houses and live in them, 13and when your herds and flocks have multiplied, and your silver and gold is multiplied, and all that you have is multiplied, 14then do not exalt yourself, forgetting the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery, 15who led you through the great and terrible wilderness, an arid wasteland with poisonous snakes and scorpions.  [God] made water flow for you from flint rock, 16and fed you in the wilderness with manna that your ancestors did not know, to humble you and to test you, and in the end to do you good. 17Do not say to yourself, “My power and the might of my own hand have gotten me this wealth.” 18But remember the LORD your God, for it is [God] who gives you power to get wealth, so that [God] may confirm [t]his covenant that [God] swore to your ancestors, as [God] is doing today.

 

Epistle – Ephesians 1: 15-23[2]

 

15I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints, and for this reason 16I do not cease to give thanks for you as I remember you in my prayers. 17I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the [Creator] of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know [God], 18so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which [God] has called you, what are the riches of [God's] glorious inheritance among the saints, 19and what is the immeasurable greatness of [God's] power for us who believe, according to the working of [God's] great power. 20God put this power to work in Christ when [God] raised him from the dead and seated him at [God's] right hand in the heavenly places, 21far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come. 22And [God] has put all things under [the] feet [of Christ] and has made him the head over all things for the church, 23which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all.

 

 “You Shall Eat Your Fill!"

 

          During that first winter in New England the English Calvinist settlers of Massachusetts lost half of their community to starvation and the bitter cold.  In the spring they did get help from Native Americans:  members of the Pawtuxet tribe who taught them how to plant corn and other crops indigenous to this "new England."  In fact it was directly because of the generosity of the Pawtuxet that the settlers enjoyed a bountiful harvest and were able to survive.

          One community used its knowledge and gifts to sustain the life of another community.  That, for me, comes very close to describing what it means to be part of a Christian community – what it should mean to be a member of a church.  In thanksgiving to their native benefactors, so the story goes, the settlers invited the Pawtuxet to a three-day harvest festival in the fall of 1621.  It was two years later that William Bradford made that announcement of a thanksgiving service to be held in the community's meeting house.[3]  From documents discovered of that time it's almost universally believed that the first Thanksgiving was celebrated with the help of Squanto, a "friendly Indian."  Squanto was twice taken to Europe and he learned to speak English.  Since he came to understand the language and customs of the Puritans, it was he who taught them to use the corn growing wild from the abandoned fields of the village, taught them how to fish the local waters, and introduced the Puritans to other foods, herbs and fruits of this land.  Squanto also negotiated a peace treaty between the Puritans and the Wampanoag Nation, a very large Native-American nation which totally surrounded the new Plymouth Plantation.  Largely due to Squanto's efforts alone, the Puritans enjoyed almost fifteen years of peaceful harmony with the surrounding natives and they prospered.  Returning to his native land one year following his last trip to England, Squanto found that a disease carried to the New World by Europeans had wiped out his entire tribe – the people called the Pawtuxet were gone.  Within twenty years over 16,000 settlers would arrive in New England and begin the process of claiming the fruitful land as their own.

          I might end my comments about that first time of thanksgiving by saying, simply, "the rest is history," but just a bit more may be worth hearing.  As the numbers of Puritans grew, the question of ownership of the land became a major issue – at least for them.  These Europeans, you see, came with a belief and commitment to individual needs and personal prosperity, and they had no clear understanding of tribal living and its concept of group sharing.  It soon became clear that these "heathen savages" had no claim on their land because it had never been "subdued" – cultivated and farmed in the European manner and there were no fences or other boundaries that marked it.  From the settlers point of view, then, the land was clearly "public domain" and there for the taking.  Interestingly enough, according to one record this attitude met with resistance from those original Puritans who held their native benefactors in high regard.  Those that followed, however, disagreed and for this reason many of the first Puritan settlers were eventually excommunicated and expelled from the church.[4]  Now I may say, with some real sadness, "the rest is history."

          On Wednesday evening (or early Thursday morning) a lot of people who call themselves "Christian" will turn from their worship to set out "over the river and through the woods" to mark a civic holiday that's been celebrated in the United States for almost four hundred years.  One way of further understanding this gathering is to follow the path of those first pilgrims.  The first English settlers gave thanks for food, survival, and the land – tangible signs, at least in their minds, of the providential care of God.  It wouldn't be long before Christian settlers from all over Europe would begin to imagine their migration as a new exodus to a promised land – God leading them, as it were, into "taming the wilderness," which eventually led to the subjugation of the entire indigenous population.  So for some people the Thanksgiving holiday is an occasion to thank God for this land, "America the beautiful," and its many natural gifts.  For others it's the opportunity to give thanks for security, a stable economy, or a healthy money-market fund – prosperity interpreted as signs of God's blessings on human labor:  our labor.

          Maybe there is some of this American mythical ethos wrapped up in our view of Thanksgiving:  "God helps those who help themselves" (a quote by the way that doesn't come from the Bible); God will reward hard work.  Really?  Jesus gave thanks to God as the One who nourishes the entire world with good things.[5]  In the ancient Jewish prayers of thanksgiving known to Jesus, God is blessed for the gift, simply, of the land, the covenant and life itself.  But there is more and it's this "more" that we can so easily forget in our civic celebrations of Thanksgiving.

          When he describes the mission of Jesus, Luke invokes the ancient dreams of Isaiah and Leviticus:

 

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.  He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor.[6]

 

The poor and the hungry, the unnoticed and the forgotten, the suffering and the oppressed, all are "re-membered" – brought back into the body and into the consciousness of the larger community.  All of the hopes of the ancient jubilee – when debts are wiped out, when the land, animals, and humans rest, when homes are returned to their rightful owners, when the hungry receive food without having to pay for it – all of these promises of God are given voice and put into action by Jesus.  Why?  Is it because people don't know, or may have forgotten, what gifts they have been given?  Is it because we no longer understand that the gifts of the earth, the right to live free, in fact life itself are gifts to be shared and nourished with all people, instead of hoarded or reserved for us privileged few?

          This thanksgiving the particularly concrete aspect of our offerings should not be forgotten.  We give thanks for the fruitfulness of the earth, surely, that unchanging gift that God provides.  While we may acknowledge this bounty, we also must be struck by the amounts of garbage that collect in the river that runs through our own valley.  While we may count our blessings, we must be struck by the vast amounts of waste and the inequity of policies that spend huge sums of money on "national defense," but do not feed the hungry, provide housing for the homeless, or offer affordable healthcare for all people.  With each gift we raise and with every program – such as The Table and The Hope Center – that we underwrite, we look at ourselves and our generosity.  Faced with the deep need represented by the whole of our culture, though, what does it mean that we still raise our hands to God surrounded by the symbols of our abundance and say, "By these things we acknowledge who we are."?

          I know that I've been accused of bringing politics into the church; but I've had a good teacher – a rabbi from the town of Nazareth.  Politics is a word that comes from the Greek polis, meaning a city, a body of citizens, and in the broad sense is concerned not just with the "shape" of any human community, but how we go about "shaping" it.  Jesus challenged the social order of his time and place; it's no accident that it challenges ours as well by projecting into it and advocating what Marcus Borg has called the "politics of compassion."[7] 

          "You shall eat your fill," rings the invitation from Deuteronomy this morning!  Grace received and grace shared is our blessing at this Thanksgiving table.  Some time ago Garrison Keillor wrote in The New York Times about his childhood memories of Thanksgiving dinner at his Aunt Elsie's house:

 

…Thanksgiving is a pleasant holiday, and good taste has never been a part of it.  That is why it is such a comfort.  All you have to do is sit down to it….

 

After my aunt died last fall, I bought her dining-room table from my uncle, who went South, and now it will hold my dinner, which is like hers and almost as good.  Thanksgiving isn't hard to make, which is the beauty of it.  You fix a big table full of dinner and plop down and think, Life is good, thank You for this, it could be a lot worse, and I'm grateful it's not.

 

God bless us.  More we do not need.[8]

 

          The generosity manifested by our church today – not just ours here in Napa, but The United Methodist Church around the world – in feeding thousands (if not millions) of people is worthy of praise and thanksgiving.  The sad part of it is that the spirit of hospitality underlying this generosity often ends with the day.  Individual congregations and Annual Conferences might extend such a one-day program to larger educational efforts that focus on other social ills:  like homophobia.  One of the problems with the refusal to accept gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender persons as the whole persons that they are, is that such homophobia is not only very pervasive, but very subtle.  It's like people who have intestinal parasites; they're there, it's just supposed to be that way, and most people who are afflicted like that aren't aware that they even have anything that's not quite right in them.  And so a pastor of a United Methodist Church can refuse membership to a man – who's been coming to his church and sung in his choir – just because he's gay.  What seems just as bad, but with the potential to create devastatingly real and far-reaching consequences, the Judicial Council of our denomination has affirmed this pastor's right to do such a terrible thing.

          My call to you all to be in dialogue about the "heart" of Christianity is meant to begin to bring about a change – of heart and mind – in our church, that such a thing will at least not happen here![9]  I mean for this dialogue to heighten awareness on the part of those who are themselves infected with such things as homophobia.  How do we weigh a change of mind and heart?  These kinds of prejudices are by definition imponderable, unweighable.  What is left of my active ordained ministry, however, will be dedicated to such questions of acceptance in the midst of our differences and diversity.  I will never refuse membership in the church to anyone for any reason.  There is always room for one more at the table.

          In the midst of this cultural and theological struggle, I think we've got to recognize the startling generosity of a God who indiscriminately gives life, health, and salvation to all creatures.  That generosity is the authentic source of Christian thanksgiving and mission in our beloved but troubled world.  There is no command here.  There's only this:  the invitation to let a Spirit that we call Holy transform our Thanksgiving into the joy of not claiming anything for ourselves alone:  not even life itself.

          Why is it, then, on a day largely given over to turkey and dressing, eating and drinking, family and football, that we step away from all of that to hear a bit of scripture, sing some favorite hymns, and otherwise engage in something like a worship service?  We haven't gathered today because we've been ordered to in a theocracy like the one that our colonial predecessors built – no priest, bishop, or village official compels us to be here.  No, we come to give thanks because we know – down deeply in our hearts, as well as in our minds – that it's "right and fitting always and everywhere to give God thanks."  We don't come here to celebrate a civil religion – our songs and our prayers aren't just more rituals connected to this coming week's feasting and fun.  No, we come to give thanks because, like those early Christians who were stunned by the strength and depth of the love exhibited by Jesus, we too have experienced the incredible richness of life and of all God's good gifts.  So "eat your fill" as we, too, are moved to say today, "Thanks be to God for God's indescribable gifts."

 

Compassionate God, how odd it is that we should set aside one day a year and call it Thanksgiving.  So this day, all is praise and gratitude for all of our days.  We breathe and it's Your breath that fills us.  We look around and it's Your light by which we see.  We move and it's Your energy that moves in us, Your touch, Your words, Your thoughts, Your love and Your laughter that give us life.  And so we are in awe of You – at least today – for all that You are and all that You do.  And so may our very lives become expressions of the words that are so simple, and yet say so much.  Thank You God.[10]

 

* * *


[1] Thanksgiving is first and foremost about remembering, with gratitude, the story of creation; but it's also about contemplating the Mysterious Creator behind it all.  Thanksgiving happens, then, as we come to know just how much we and our world continue to be sustained – in spite of what we've done both to ourselves and to those things in creation which have sustained us.  From the allegorical imagery of the Garden of Eden, through the rainbow after the flood, from the testing of Abraham, through Israel's deliverance at the Red Sea, from the Valley of the Dry Bones, to the birth in a manger, the mysterious power of a Creator has always been there.  That's why those early people could speak of it in terms of "God's faithfulness to the covenant and its people."  It's always been there…and always will.  For that alone I am profoundly grateful.

[2] This has been called "Paul's Prayer" (Even though most contemporary biblical scholars no longer believer that Paul ever wrote it!); its significance is its expansive imagery for the foundation of the church.  If the reality of Jesus, as the Christ, transcends both time and space, and if the church really is "the body of Christ," then whatever you and I might do here is exceeded by a reality that extends beyond anything we could ever imagine.  But what in the world do you think that might mean?

[3] Read as our "Call to Worship" and printed in the bulletin:

 

Inasmuch as the great Father has given us this year an abundant harvest of Indian corn, wheat, and vegetables, has made the forests abound with game and the sea with fish and clams, has protected us from the ravages of the savages, has spared us from pestilence and disease, and has granted us freedom to worship according to the dictates of our own conscience, I, your magistrate, do proclaim that all pilgrims gather at the meeting house on Thursday, November 29, there to listen to your pastor and render thanksgiving to almighty God for all his blessings.                            [William Bradford, governor of Plymouth Colony, 1623]

 

[5] Consider that passage in Luke (12: 22-31) where Jesus is thought to have said to his disciples:

 

22…Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear.  23For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing.  24Consider the ravens:  they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them.  Of how much more value are you than the birds!  25And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?  26If then you are not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest?  27Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these.  28But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith!  29And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying.  30For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your [Creator] knows that you need them.  31Instead, strive for [God's] kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.

 

[6] This is from Luke 4: 18-19 – cf. Isaiah 61: 1-2 and Leviticus 25: 8-55 as it describes "The Year of the Jubilee."

[7] See his chapter entitled, "Jesus, Compassion, and Politics," in Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time (HarperSanFrancisco, 1994), pp. 46-68 and his endnote #11 on p. 63.

[8] Garrison Keillor, "All You Do Is Just Sit Down," The New York Times, 26 November, 1992.

[9] Our "Breakfast with Borg" group meets every Tuesday morning (8:00 at Gillwoods Café in the Napa Town Center) to discuss Marcus Borg's book, The Heart of Christianity: Rediscovering a Life of Faith.

[10] Adapted from a prayer by Ted Loder in Guerillas of Grace, ed. Marcia Broucek (Luria Media, 1984).