THANKSGIVING HOMILY: FOR ALL THAT IS OUR LIFE

© Rev. Joy Atkinson 2008
Mission Peak Unitarian Universalist Congregation
November 23, 2008

For all that is our life we sing our thanks and praise.
For all life is a gift that we are called to use
To build the common good and make our own days glad.

The hymn we just joined in singing expresses gratitude for the gift of life - and for all that occurs in life - even the heartbreaks, the tragedies, the rough times. How is it possible to offer praise and thanks for All that is our life - the good, the not so good, and the downright awful?

Well, since this is our Thanksgiving service, let's take a look at the Pilgrims. We learn in school that the first Thanksgiving took place in October 1621, when the Pilgrims sat down to a sumptuous feast with the Native Americans. Actually the first official Thanksgiving, by presidential proclamation, was declared in 1863 by President Lincoln. But the Pilgrims did have a special feast in 1621, to celebrate the plentiful harvest of their first year in the New World. They offered prayers of thanks, they broke bread, they ate, they celebrated, and the Native Americans, much to the surprise of the reserved Puritans, danced. But the events leading up to this feast were anything but joyful.

In their native land, England, these Puritan separatists were hounded because of their religious beliefs, their refusal to accept the authority of the Church of England. They were thrown in prison, had their homes taken away, and were watched and harassed day and night. Finally, they left all behind and fled to Holland, where there was more tolerance for their views.

After a few years, they decided that to preserve their religion and way of life, they needed to set up their own community. So, financed by a small English company to which the Puritans would give part of their earnings, they and about 50 others recruited by the company set sail on the Mayflower for the New World. They expected to end up in Northern Virginia, but they wound up 300 miles to the north at Cape Cod, and from there they made their way to Plymouth.

The two-month ride across the ocean was no pleasure cruise. In fact, the ship almost disintegrated in heavy gales, and though it was repaired, they lost their mast and rudder and had to resort to oars. Worse hardship came when they landed, in the dead of winter, and tried to eke out a living. They had little to eat, mostly dried meat saved from their journey, and many developed scurvy from a lack of fruits and vegetables. By the end of a very rough winter, half of them died, and most of the others were ill. Had it not been for an Indian brave named Tisquantum, who met the Pilgrims that spring and showed them how to plant corn and track game, and what plants were safe to eat, the Pilgrims might have been wiped out altogether.

The story of Tisquantum, nicknamed Squanto by the Pilgrims, also has its hardships. By the time Squanto greeted the Pilgrims that spring, saying "Welcome Englishmen" in perfect English, he had been across the Atlantic four times, and could speak English and Spanish fluently. He was from the Pawtuxet tribe - a tribe that belonged to the Wampanoag confederation of tribes. The Pawtuxet lived in the Cape Cod area. When he was young, Squanto was captured and taken to England, as were other Native Americans at the time - they were curiosities that wealthy British would employ. Squanto was well treated for the seven years he lived in England, but he longed to return to his tribe, so finally, with the help of Captain John Smith, the same Captain whose life was saved by Pocahontas, Squanto was sent back on a ship bound for Massachusetts. Squanto rejoined his tribe, but soon he and 27 other Pawtuxet braves were captured, put in chains and brought to Spain to be sold as slaves. Fortunately, Squanto and some other Native Americans who hadn't yet been sold as slaves were taken in by some monks who opposed slavery. The monks brought Squanto and the others to their monastery, where they were nursed to health, instructed in the Christian faith, of course, and then released. Squanto made his way to England, where he met a humane merchant who sent him home again. But this time he returned to an empty village. His entire tribe had been wiped out by plague.

Squanto was heartbroken. He was the last Pawtuxet. He was taken in by nearby Wampanoags, who were the other guests at the Thanksgiving feast. It was Squanto who had arranged a peace treaty with the Wampanoag chief Massasoit, who could have wiped out this little band of Pilgrims. So Squanto saved their lives twice: by showing them how to grow and find food, and by averting a massacre. The Pilgrims called him a saint, and believed that God had sent him to aid them.

Now, in October of 1621, when the Pilgrims sat down to dinner together with Squanto, Chief Massasoit and the Wampanoag tribe, they all could have had one heck of a gripe session! The pilgrims could easily have said: "Boy, last winter was a disaster. We lost half our number, and almost all the rest of us got so sick we couldn't do much. Now, here we are in this wilderness, and not all of the tribes around here are as friendly as you guys."

Squanto certainly had his personal reasons to complain: "You think that's bad. Well, not only have I lost some precious time in my life being unwillingly transported far from my homeland and sold as a slave, but I finally returned to find my whole tribe, my family, dead of some horrid disease - I'm the only one left!"

Even Chief Massasoit could have voiced a beef. After all, the Pilgrims just came over and took a part of their territory and, as history records it, the Chief agreed to a treaty with the Pilgrims that he didn't really understand. But this assembled crowd did not whine and fuss about their very real hardships. They expressed deep thanks to their respective gods, and they celebrated!

This is what giving thanks for all that is our lives is about. It involves an acknowledgement that life is a gift, even if we don't get all we want. Life is a gift even when there are hardships. In fact, adversity itself can be a gift.

Most of us have times in our lives when we keenly feel our disappointments, the things we lost out on, the difficulties we've suffered. And most of us at least sometimes get cranky and maybe a bit whiny about those losses and hardships. And I'll bet we also know people who, unfortunately, make something of a profession out of lamenting their losses and missed chances.

It's easy to forget that life is a gift, one we did not earn and could not ask for. To remember the giftedness of life is to be truly thankful. I'm not talking about the old habit of counting our blessings and being thankful for them alone. The problem with doing that is that you can always come up with some things that feel like curses on the minus side of life's balance sheet. "Let's see. That was a blessing, but this was a curse, I'm grateful for this, but that was a nuisance." I'm speaking about an overall attitude that looks in gratitude upon life as a gift - all that is our life, the good and the bad.

And this incredible gift, as Squanto and the Puritans and the Wampanoags knew, this gift is worthy of our praise and our gratitude. With an attitude of gratitude toward the giftedness of life, we can learn not only to embrace all that is our lives, we can also better combat the forces of negativity and cynicism in the world, and our good and noble efforts to improve the world will take on the added power of our genuine hope, and our faith. This Thanksgiving, may our hearts be filled with deep gratitude and praise.

Benediction

Between the spinning galaxies
and the soil beneath our feet
we live out our lives
of light and darkness
joy and woe
weeping and laughter.
Lives striving to learn
the lesson of love.
May we embrace the gift of life
in its fullness, deeply grateful
for all that is our life.

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