November 23, 2011
Ecumenical Thanksgiving Service, St. Thomas More
Scripture: Deut 8:7-18 and Luke 17:11-19
Giving Thanks for the Journey
Rev. Leanne Walt preaching
I’m grateful for the opportunity for our congregation to join in worshiping God with our Christian neighbors here in Braintree. It is as Christ intends, I believe, for us to forge ecumenical relationships and partnerships within our communities, the nation, and the world. Thank you to Father McCarthy and the parish here at St. Thomas More for the invitation to break open the word in this place on this eve of Thanksgiving. I do so with a grateful heart.
Would you pray with me….
* * * *
I’ve already eaten my first Thanksgiving dinner this year. Just yesterday I enjoyed savory bites of turkey with cranberry and rich stuffing, a delicious prelude to tomorrow afternoon. Both the preschool and kindergarten schools that operate out of our building at First Church were enjoying their annual Thanksgiving celebration yesterday, replete with all the accouterments; turkey, stuffing, cornbread, gravy, mashed potatoes, you name it.
The preschool festivities not only involve eating a meal, but they remember the first Thanksgiving by asking the children to dress as The Pilgrims and Native Americans. I watched as a cluster of miniature Native Americans with feathered construction paper headdresses and decoratively painted faces entered the hall and assumed their position behind a chair at one of the long tables. Then, The Pilgrims entered, a band of small creatures with floppy brown hats and square paper collars with cut outs for their heads. The Pilgrims took their seats and the feast began. Those of you with children or grandchildren have, I can imagine, witnessed a similar scene in your travels or perhaps, like me, you have stood as one of those tiny, costumed creatures some years ago.
Even as small children in this country, we are reminded of our pilgrim roots. Wanderers by nature. Seekers of lasting meaning. Travelers we are - on a perpetual sojourn for justice and journey for Truth. Pilgrims we are. And so here we are, my pilgrim friends on this night, seeking a Word of truth, life, hope, and peace. Here we are, another year having passed, a moment to pause on our pilgrim way and assess where we have been and where it is we are going.
In December of 1621, Governor William Bradford and his fellow pilgrims took a moment to pause and assess where they had been and where they were going. For three days the pilgrims and the Wampanoag people gathered for feasting and prayer. It had been nearly one year since they had stepped out onto Plymouth Rock and that first winter they spent on the shores of the Massachusetts Bay was harsh and devastating. Nearly half of those with whom they had traveled had died. Bradford wrote of the first three months in this strange and merciless land, “It pleased God to visit us then with death daily. Disease was everywhere. The living were scarcely able to bury the dead.”
The light of hope they sought to find in this new world barely shone through the depth and death of that first winter.
Yet, with the help of the Native Americans the harvest that followed was plentiful and so they paused on their pilgrim way for feasting and thanksgiving. They feasted on venison, wild duck, and geese, boiled pumpkin, and corn. They gave thanks to God, for it is right to give thanks and praise to the Lord our God. They feasted and thanked, knowing far better than we the unforgiving forces of nature and the magnitude of loss but one year can hold.
So, then, in addition to the season’s abundant harvest and the life of those who survived, what might they have been thankful for? Perhaps, simply for one another. For the threads of community that bound them together amidst a storm of devastation, grief, and despair. When they began to fear that their hope was in vain, the ties of their family and of their kinship to one another lifted them up.
They gave thanks for the presence and guidance of the Native American people, attune to the rhythms of the land and nature, without whom they would not have survived that first year to celebrate with feasting and thanking.
The words of a favorite hymn of mine come to mind. Words that I sang as a child when I was trying on dreams for the future, as a young adult when I had journeyed home from travels abroad, as a new clergyperson just moments into ordained ministry, and now those that I sing with my new congregation here in Braintree as we look into our future with hopeful hearts:
“We are pilgrims on a journey,
We are travelers on the road;
We are here to help each other
Walk the mile and bear the load.”
My pilgrim friends, as we gather to feast tomorrow we, too, ought to offer our thanks for the community that has shaped us, has formed us, has given us strength enough for the journey. It is especially right to do so in a time now when people are falling further and further away from the bonds of community. It used to be that people sought out community within their communities. There were bowling leagues, Men’s Groups, Women’s Groups, communities of faith. And though these still exist, attendance is sparse at best and they are generally comprised of an older demographic – our New England churches know this reality far too well. Then there’s still Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, and Youth Groups, but again, all of these groups have experienced a serious decline in numbers in recent years.
In the year 2000, Robert Putnam came out with a book based on extensive research and statistical evidence in which he chronicles how we Americans have become increasingly disconnected from family, friends, neighbors, and civic life. As the title of his book suggests, we now go Bowling Alone. Instead of seeking physical connections with others, younger generations find community through text messaging and Facebook.
Author Kurt Vonnegut offered wise words on the matter,
“What should young people do with their lives today? Many things, obviously. But the most daring thing is to create stable communities in which the terrible disease of loneliness can be cured.”
In this cyber world, diseased with loneliness, it is good to be together tonight. To feast on God’s Word and give thanks for the journey. In our gathering may we seek to lift up the importance of community for our young people, within our respective congregations, may we offer them a place to truly be with one another – not virtually, but physically – a holy place that speaks to them, a holy space that meets their needs – not only ours. May God give us the courage to imagine such a holy place right here in Braintree, Massachusetts.
* * * *
As they gathered and feasted, I imagine that our pilgrim ancestors gave thanks for freedom. In the wake of their causalities, on the shores of the Massachusetts Bay they could finally begin to taste the religious freedom that they sought across the sea; freedom to worship God as separate from the state, freedom in democracy. My pilgrim friends, we have continued to pursue democratic truth and religious freedom, the Truth that Jesus promises will set us free; freedom that continues to be hard fought and never easily won.
Just yesterday I was listing to a program on NPR focusing on the military and military families – perhaps some of you also caught this segment. The host, Neal Conan, was interviewing a Marine of the 3rd Battalion, 5th Regiment who had lost both his legs in battle. A gentleman from Wyoming called into the show offering the comment that he feels Americans don’t understand or appreciate that we are loosing the greatest of an entire generation in these wars. The caller went on to share that his nephew was killed in Afghanistan by an IED. He, too, belonged to the Marine’s 3rd and 5th. Neal Conan asked him what his nephew’s name was, so that they could take a moment to remember the fallen Marine. “Lance Corporal Alec Catherwood,” the caller said, and he asked the Marine who was there being interviewed on the show, “Do you remember him.”
After a moment of dead air, the Marine sighed and said, “Yeah, I was about 50 feet away when he died…it’s heard to hear that name.”
As we feast tomorrow, may we give thanks for the sacrifices of our sisters and brothers – heroic pilgrims defending the ideals of truth and freedom that compelled the first feast of giving thanks.
* * * *
Perhaps, too, The Pilgrims remembered their pilgrim ancestors as they gathered for that first feast of giving thanks. The Israelites, God’s chosen people, bound and oppressed, set free to wander through the wilderness toward the Promised Land. Nearing the end of their grueling 40- year journey, full of hunger and despair, Moses offers them a vision of the land that God will provide for them in our reading from Deuteronomy this evening. He describes a land of flowing streams, wheat and barley, vines of fig trees and pomegranates, olive trees and honey. “You shall eat your fill,” Moses promises them. But, he says, “Take care that you do not forget the Lord your God.” Give thanks and bless God for all that he has given you. Over two thousand years later, in their pause, The Pilgrims heeded this Word and they gave thanks to God.
And so as they remembered the story of their pilgrim ancestors around that table of assurance and abundance at the first Thanksgiving, I imagine above all, that The Pilgrims offered their gratitude for the presence of Christ in their hearts, for the promise that constituted the very foundation of their faith, as it does ours. The promise that we remember each time we gather at the Communion table, that “Jesus said, ‘I am the Bread of Life. Whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst’” (John 6:35). The Bread of Life spiritually fed them; it carried them over the tumultuous and rough Atlantic waters, through the depths of death and disease, and in the emptiness of hunger they were filled by the Bread of Life.
At this time of Thanksgiving, as Christians we are standing ready to prepare our hearts to receive the Bread of Life in flesh and bone, in a humble stable surrounded by livestock. We are preparing to meet Emmanuel, God with us. We are preparing to recognize that the Promise is here among us and has been all along, through hunger and need, death and despair, joy and heartache. God has felt our journey every mile.
I leave you on this eve of giving thanks with an excerpt from a Poem by our pilgrim forbearer, William Bradford:
From my years young in days of youth,
God did make known to me his truth,
And call'd me from my native place
For to enjoy the means of grace.
In wilderness he did me guide,
And in strange lands for me provide.
In fears and wants, though weal and woe,
A pilgrim, past I to and fro:
Oft left of them whom I did trust;
How vain it is to rest on dust!
A man of sorrows I have been,
And many changes I have seen.
Wars, wants, peace, plenty, have I known;
And some advanc'd, others thrown down.
The humble poor, cheerful and glad;
Rich, discontent, sower and sad:
When fears and sorrows have been mixt,
Consolations came betwixt.
Faint not, poor soul, in God still trust.
Wayfarers and wanderers, in God still trust. Give thanks, my pilgrim friends. Give thanks for the journey.
Ecumenical Thanksgiving Service, St. Thomas More
Scripture: Deut 8:7-18 and Luke 17:11-19
Giving Thanks for the Journey
Rev. Leanne Walt preaching
I’m grateful for the opportunity for our congregation to join in worshiping God with our Christian neighbors here in Braintree. It is as Christ intends, I believe, for us to forge ecumenical relationships and partnerships within our communities, the nation, and the world. Thank you to Father McCarthy and the parish here at St. Thomas More for the invitation to break open the word in this place on this eve of Thanksgiving. I do so with a grateful heart.
Would you pray with me….
* * * *
I’ve already eaten my first Thanksgiving dinner this year. Just yesterday I enjoyed savory bites of turkey with cranberry and rich stuffing, a delicious prelude to tomorrow afternoon. Both the preschool and kindergarten schools that operate out of our building at First Church were enjoying their annual Thanksgiving celebration yesterday, replete with all the accouterments; turkey, stuffing, cornbread, gravy, mashed potatoes, you name it.
The preschool festivities not only involve eating a meal, but they remember the first Thanksgiving by asking the children to dress as The Pilgrims and Native Americans. I watched as a cluster of miniature Native Americans with feathered construction paper headdresses and decoratively painted faces entered the hall and assumed their position behind a chair at one of the long tables. Then, The Pilgrims entered, a band of small creatures with floppy brown hats and square paper collars with cut outs for their heads. The Pilgrims took their seats and the feast began. Those of you with children or grandchildren have, I can imagine, witnessed a similar scene in your travels or perhaps, like me, you have stood as one of those tiny, costumed creatures some years ago.
Even as small children in this country, we are reminded of our pilgrim roots. Wanderers by nature. Seekers of lasting meaning. Travelers we are - on a perpetual sojourn for justice and journey for Truth. Pilgrims we are. And so here we are, my pilgrim friends on this night, seeking a Word of truth, life, hope, and peace. Here we are, another year having passed, a moment to pause on our pilgrim way and assess where we have been and where it is we are going.
In December of 1621, Governor William Bradford and his fellow pilgrims took a moment to pause and assess where they had been and where they were going. For three days the pilgrims and the Wampanoag people gathered for feasting and prayer. It had been nearly one year since they had stepped out onto Plymouth Rock and that first winter they spent on the shores of the Massachusetts Bay was harsh and devastating. Nearly half of those with whom they had traveled had died. Bradford wrote of the first three months in this strange and merciless land, “It pleased God to visit us then with death daily. Disease was everywhere. The living were scarcely able to bury the dead.”
The light of hope they sought to find in this new world barely shone through the depth and death of that first winter.
Yet, with the help of the Native Americans the harvest that followed was plentiful and so they paused on their pilgrim way for feasting and thanksgiving. They feasted on venison, wild duck, and geese, boiled pumpkin, and corn. They gave thanks to God, for it is right to give thanks and praise to the Lord our God. They feasted and thanked, knowing far better than we the unforgiving forces of nature and the magnitude of loss but one year can hold.
So, then, in addition to the season’s abundant harvest and the life of those who survived, what might they have been thankful for? Perhaps, simply for one another. For the threads of community that bound them together amidst a storm of devastation, grief, and despair. When they began to fear that their hope was in vain, the ties of their family and of their kinship to one another lifted them up.
They gave thanks for the presence and guidance of the Native American people, attune to the rhythms of the land and nature, without whom they would not have survived that first year to celebrate with feasting and thanking.
The words of a favorite hymn of mine come to mind. Words that I sang as a child when I was trying on dreams for the future, as a young adult when I had journeyed home from travels abroad, as a new clergyperson just moments into ordained ministry, and now those that I sing with my new congregation here in Braintree as we look into our future with hopeful hearts:
“We are pilgrims on a journey,
We are travelers on the road;
We are here to help each other
Walk the mile and bear the load.”
My pilgrim friends, as we gather to feast tomorrow we, too, ought to offer our thanks for the community that has shaped us, has formed us, has given us strength enough for the journey. It is especially right to do so in a time now when people are falling further and further away from the bonds of community. It used to be that people sought out community within their communities. There were bowling leagues, Men’s Groups, Women’s Groups, communities of faith. And though these still exist, attendance is sparse at best and they are generally comprised of an older demographic – our New England churches know this reality far too well. Then there’s still Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, and Youth Groups, but again, all of these groups have experienced a serious decline in numbers in recent years.
In the year 2000, Robert Putnam came out with a book based on extensive research and statistical evidence in which he chronicles how we Americans have become increasingly disconnected from family, friends, neighbors, and civic life. As the title of his book suggests, we now go Bowling Alone. Instead of seeking physical connections with others, younger generations find community through text messaging and Facebook.
Author Kurt Vonnegut offered wise words on the matter,
“What should young people do with their lives today? Many things, obviously. But the most daring thing is to create stable communities in which the terrible disease of loneliness can be cured.”
In this cyber world, diseased with loneliness, it is good to be together tonight. To feast on God’s Word and give thanks for the journey. In our gathering may we seek to lift up the importance of community for our young people, within our respective congregations, may we offer them a place to truly be with one another – not virtually, but physically – a holy place that speaks to them, a holy space that meets their needs – not only ours. May God give us the courage to imagine such a holy place right here in Braintree, Massachusetts.
* * * *
As they gathered and feasted, I imagine that our pilgrim ancestors gave thanks for freedom. In the wake of their causalities, on the shores of the Massachusetts Bay they could finally begin to taste the religious freedom that they sought across the sea; freedom to worship God as separate from the state, freedom in democracy. My pilgrim friends, we have continued to pursue democratic truth and religious freedom, the Truth that Jesus promises will set us free; freedom that continues to be hard fought and never easily won.
Just yesterday I was listing to a program on NPR focusing on the military and military families – perhaps some of you also caught this segment. The host, Neal Conan, was interviewing a Marine of the 3rd Battalion, 5th Regiment who had lost both his legs in battle. A gentleman from Wyoming called into the show offering the comment that he feels Americans don’t understand or appreciate that we are loosing the greatest of an entire generation in these wars. The caller went on to share that his nephew was killed in Afghanistan by an IED. He, too, belonged to the Marine’s 3rd and 5th. Neal Conan asked him what his nephew’s name was, so that they could take a moment to remember the fallen Marine. “Lance Corporal Alec Catherwood,” the caller said, and he asked the Marine who was there being interviewed on the show, “Do you remember him.”
After a moment of dead air, the Marine sighed and said, “Yeah, I was about 50 feet away when he died…it’s heard to hear that name.”
As we feast tomorrow, may we give thanks for the sacrifices of our sisters and brothers – heroic pilgrims defending the ideals of truth and freedom that compelled the first feast of giving thanks.
* * * *
Perhaps, too, The Pilgrims remembered their pilgrim ancestors as they gathered for that first feast of giving thanks. The Israelites, God’s chosen people, bound and oppressed, set free to wander through the wilderness toward the Promised Land. Nearing the end of their grueling 40- year journey, full of hunger and despair, Moses offers them a vision of the land that God will provide for them in our reading from Deuteronomy this evening. He describes a land of flowing streams, wheat and barley, vines of fig trees and pomegranates, olive trees and honey. “You shall eat your fill,” Moses promises them. But, he says, “Take care that you do not forget the Lord your God.” Give thanks and bless God for all that he has given you. Over two thousand years later, in their pause, The Pilgrims heeded this Word and they gave thanks to God.
And so as they remembered the story of their pilgrim ancestors around that table of assurance and abundance at the first Thanksgiving, I imagine above all, that The Pilgrims offered their gratitude for the presence of Christ in their hearts, for the promise that constituted the very foundation of their faith, as it does ours. The promise that we remember each time we gather at the Communion table, that “Jesus said, ‘I am the Bread of Life. Whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst’” (John 6:35). The Bread of Life spiritually fed them; it carried them over the tumultuous and rough Atlantic waters, through the depths of death and disease, and in the emptiness of hunger they were filled by the Bread of Life.
At this time of Thanksgiving, as Christians we are standing ready to prepare our hearts to receive the Bread of Life in flesh and bone, in a humble stable surrounded by livestock. We are preparing to meet Emmanuel, God with us. We are preparing to recognize that the Promise is here among us and has been all along, through hunger and need, death and despair, joy and heartache. God has felt our journey every mile.
I leave you on this eve of giving thanks with an excerpt from a Poem by our pilgrim forbearer, William Bradford:
From my years young in days of youth,
God did make known to me his truth,
And call'd me from my native place
For to enjoy the means of grace.
In wilderness he did me guide,
And in strange lands for me provide.
In fears and wants, though weal and woe,
A pilgrim, past I to and fro:
Oft left of them whom I did trust;
How vain it is to rest on dust!
A man of sorrows I have been,
And many changes I have seen.
Wars, wants, peace, plenty, have I known;
And some advanc'd, others thrown down.
The humble poor, cheerful and glad;
Rich, discontent, sower and sad:
When fears and sorrows have been mixt,
Consolations came betwixt.
Faint not, poor soul, in God still trust.
Wayfarers and wanderers, in God still trust. Give thanks, my pilgrim friends. Give thanks for the journey.
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