We are all very familiar with the basic components of the story of the First Thanksgiving in New England. The year was 1621. The “Pilgrims” who had come on the Mayflower the previous year, to establish the first permanent English colony in that part of the new world – at Plymouth – had been through many trials and hardships.
When they first arrived, they were unfamiliar with the land and with what could be grown on it. They were unfamiliar with the climate, and were not used to the severe winters that would have to be endured in their new home.
And they were frightened of the native people. They had heard stories from earlier explorers, and from people who had lived in the Virginia colony to the south, about vicious Indian attacks on Europeans.
The Pilgrims’ most severe trial was the loss of fully half of their number during the first winter, who had died of disease and other causes.
But in spite of these difficulties, as their first year in Plymouth moved forward – after winter – things started to go much better for them. They were especially blessed to find out that the native people who lived closest to their settlement were friendly, and wanted to enter into a cordial alliance with them.
That happened. What also happened is that they met and befriended one particular Indian, named Tisquantum or Squanto, who was very fluent in English.
How he had come to know English is a fascinating story in itself. Squanto and a few other men had been kidnaped several years earlier by an unscrupulous English ship’s master who was exploring the New England coast, and had been sold into slavery in Spain.
But in Spain, a community of Catholic monks saw the injustice of what had been done to Squanto. Their monastery purchased his freedom.
He stayed with them for a while, and it is believed that they instructed him in the Christian faith and baptized him. But when he expressed a desire to return home, his monastic friends arranged for him to travel to England, so that he could eventually catch a ride on a ship from there that would be sailing to the New England coast.
While he waited in England for such an opportunity, he learned English. And then, the year before the Pilgrims arrived, he was in fact, brought home on such a ship, skippered by a decent, Christian ship’s master – very different indeed from the one who had so cruelly snatched him away.
Squanto, therefore, knew by his own experience that not all Europeans, and not all Englishmen, were the same. And he was quickly able to tell that the Pilgrims, in their Christian character, were like the people who had been helpful to him in his time of trial, and were not like the man who had done him harm.
And so he became their friend, lived with them in Plymouth, and sought to be their helper in their time of trial. He showed them what crops could be raised in the New England soil, and showed them how to raise those crops. He joined them for worship in their church.
When harvest time came, in the autumn, the harvest was abundant. The settlers were grateful to almighty God for his grace and protection. And so they held a feast, to celebrate God’s goodness.
And at this feast they also celebrated their friendship with Squanto and the other Indians, many of whom attended and shared in the festivities. They knew in humble gratitude that God had providentially sent to them their native friends, so that they could be God’s instruments for guaranteeing their survival.
The imagery of this gathering, now generally called “the first Thanksgiving,” truly is moving and inspiring: with Europeans and natives demonstrating mutual friendship, mutual respect, mutual good will, and a desire for continued mutual understanding. The Pilgrims were also looking and praying for opportunities to share their Christian faith with the Indians, and were optimistic that God would give them such opportunities.
But as the years passed, the story of the first Thanksgiving was largely forgotten by New Englanders. The custom of holding a tha
nksgiving observance in the autumn of each year did become an enduring tradition among them, and this custom was expanded into other regions of the country when New Englanders migrated westward.
But the recounting of the story of the first such observance had not remained as a permanent part of this tradition. And what had also mostly come to an end, was the initially positive and friendly relationship between the native people and the people with roots in England.
A devastating war between the settlers and the Indians – called King Philip’s War – ravaged New England from 1675 to 1678. The generation that had broken bread together in 1621 was now gone.
Their children and grandchildren – on both sides – were neither able nor willing to maintain the good relationship. There were a lot of causes for the war which we need not go into now, but the sad fact remains that the war did happen, with deeply painful consequences.
The settlers did, in the end, prevail in this war. But after a while, their collective consciences seem to have imprinted upon them a deep feeling of regret for how this had happened.
They sensed that something good had been lost, and they wished that somehow things could go back to the way they were in that distant hopeful and happy year of 1621. And so in the 1830s, and especially in the 1840s – more than 200 years after the first Thanksgiving – the story of the first Thanksgiving was brought back to life.
Books and articles began to tell that story once again, and people began to cling to that story once again. Through the restoration of this marvelous tale, recalled and retold each autumn among New Englanders in America, a yearning for the return of times like that time was no doubt felt by many.
But the reality of the social, political, and military situation in the country told a different tale. Division and disharmony remained. And new divisions and new disharmonies arose as well.
At Thanksgiving time, we still remember our national myth of everyone getting along. But our national reality is that everyone does not get along. So in the end, this hopeful story settles out into sadness and disappointment, because we as a nation are not united.
The fault lines of our modern divisions do not run just between Europeans and native Americans. They run in all directions now, even within families, whose members can no longer sit down together for this celebration, can no longer talk to each other, and have forgotten how to love and forgive each other.
What do we – as Christians in the 21st century – “bring to the table,” as it were? What does Thanksgiving Day mean to us? How do we deal with the hopes and aspirations of the thanksgiving story, and with the disappointments and dysfunctions of the Thanksgiving reality?
What we bring to the table, and what we believe, confess, and live out at the table, is the testimony of St. Paul in his Epistle to the Colossians. Here he writes:
“Therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, put on tender mercies, kindness, humility, meekness, longsuffering; bearing with one another, and forgiving one another, if anyone has a complaint against another; even as Christ forgave you, so you also must do. But above all these things put on love, which is the bond of perfection. And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to which also you were called in one body; and be thankful.”
Yes, Paul exhorts us to be thankful. The blessings we have enjoyed in this life – both small and great – were not just the result of good luck, and were not ultimately the result merely of human effort, either. As St. James reminds us in his Epistle,
“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights.”
And so, for everyone here who has life and breath, who knows the joy of friendship and caring relationships, who has a bed to sleep in and a roof over your head: you are where you should be in this hour, joining your Christian friends and fellow church members in giving thanks to God for all his gifts and for all his wonders.
And the context of this mutual gratitude, is a context in which we are always seeking to grow into an ever deeper unity with each other – and indeed with all who confess Christ, as truth and conscience permit – that is marked by “tender mercies, kindness, humility, meekness, longsuffering; bearing with one another, and forgiving one another.”
As we are thankful to the Lord here, with the other people who are with us here, the relationships we have with the Christians we know, are the relationships that are impacted most directly by the character traits that Paul describes, and to which we aspire.
But our desire to be like Christ in these ways extends out to all our other relationships as well – or at least it should. And it extends out to whatever influence we might be able to have on the larger world: so that tensions are diffused, conflicts are de-escalated, trust is restored, and empathy is cultivated.
This doesn’t mean that we will agree with every potentially divisive idea that we encounter, because we won’t. But we will try to understand every idea, and where it comes from, and thereby grow in our ability to interact with it honestly and effectively.
The members of our little church cannot set the entire world ablaze with great fires of love and reconciliation. But we can light a candle. We can be a part of the solution – even if just a very small part – and not a part of the problem.
But in the final analysis, none of these efforts and goals can be successful, without God making them successful, as he not only instructs human minds, but also changes human hearts.
A true and genuine desire for reconciliation and peace in human relationships flows from two fundamental truths: that we have been reconciled to God through the death of Jesus, our substitute and Savior; and that we are therefore at peace with God through the forgiveness of all our sins that the risen Christ bestows upon us in his Word and sacrament.
Where we have failed to live up to what our Lord calls us to, in loving our neighbor as ourselves, we ask God for forgiveness yet again, and for help in doing better. And we thank God for the forgiveness, and for the second chances, that he always grants to the penitent.
When there have been conflict and alienation between nations, tribes, clans, families, and individuals, the gospel can heal those divisions. The gospel, when believed from the heart, allows those who previously were hostile to each other, to be able to join together in thanking God for his goodness.
If there are complaints – even serious complaints – there can also be apologies and restitutions. And there can be forgiveness among former adversaries, as people are together guided by God’s Word to turn over a new leaf in the relationship.
Of all the blessings that we can count tonight, for which we are truly thankful, the greatest and most important are God’s forgiveness in his Son, of all our sins against him; and God’s transformation of our forgiven hearts into hearts that are now able and willing to forgive others.
St. Paul continues in his Epistle to the Colossians, telling us:
“Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom, teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord. And whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.”
We are indeed gathered here as a congregation of believers in Jesus, as the Word of Jesus is coming to us in the lessons we have heard and in the hymns we have sung. And his Word renews our faith, and our hope.
In the name of Jesus we offer thanks to God our Father, for all the good things we have been talking about. In the name of Jesus, we reach out to each other in reconciliation and forgiveness if that is needed among us.
And in the name of Jesus we resolve that we will reach out to others in the same way: inviting and welcoming them into our life, inviting and welcoming them to our table, and inviting and welcoming them into the family of God, as we look for and use the opportunities that God will give us to speak his message of salvation to them.
In this fallen world, and according to the attitudes and actions that usually govern the affairs of men in this world, events like the first Thanksgiving in Plymouth, in 1621, are few and far between.
But in God’s kingdom – where the everlasting gospel has been preached, and has been believed by God’s saints from every nation, tribe, tongue, and people – what happened in 1621 can serve as a faint image of the wonderful heavenly banquet that God’s reconciled and joyful people will celebrate with each other forever. We hear Jesus speak in St. Matthew’s Gospel:
“I say to you that many will come from east and west, and sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven.”
We close with these words from Psalm 67, which we chanted earlier:
“God be merciful to us and bless us, and cause His face to shine upon us, that Your way may be known on earth, Your salvation among all nations. Let the peoples praise You, O God; let all the peoples praise You. Oh, let the nations be glad and sing for joy!”
Amen.