The time is fast upon us. The air is crisp; the leaves crunch under feet; the sun hangs low in the sky. Scarfs and gloves, in hiding since last winter, are found. Apples for pies are at the ready; a large squash awaits preparation. Cooks consult their recipes while fall flowers add vibrant color to the table.
Thanksgiving. It’s a time of great excitement, warm hugs, glad reunions, much food and happy conversations. We count our blessings and celebrate our bounty in this rich land. Families hold hands around the table; a simple grace is offered; the bird is carved. The red of the cranberry enlivens the plate. Such joy, such gladness, such abundance.
And yet ... and yet ... a deeper theme needs to run through our day. This year we gather in the wake of a hurricane that brought massive destruction to millions; in the midst of the longest war in our nation’s history; in the stark realities of life facing the poor, poorer still, and the rich even richer. Our festivities must also acknowledge our sadness, our grief, our desire to help set things right, our renewed pledge to care for one another.
That deep down prayer, whether audible or silent, recognizes that our bounty is not of our making; that we are part of a larger whole; that underneath us, and all people, is a grace we cannot fathom.
The poet, Arnold Kenseth (Sabbaths, Sacraments and Seasons) says it well:
We praise thee and thank thee for thyself who gives us the gifts we do not earn and the strength we do not have and the forgiveness we do not deserve.
Adding these thoughts to our prayers gives us a fuller and richer perspective. We know better who we are and our connectedness to one another. Now we can truly celebrate and then ... and then ... truly serve.