By Rev. Terry A. Davis
Delivered at Northwest Unitarian Universalist Congregation on November 18, 2012.
Dear friends, Thanksgiving is around the corner. And, in typical American fashion, the other night as I was doing some shopping, I heard the faint strains of “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” wafting over the sound system. The merchant hadn’t yet hung up greenery and lights, but I suppose that will be coming in just a few days.
I found myself feeling a little discouraged as I waited for the sales associate to ring up and wrap my purchase. I’m not ready to start thinking about that other holiday. I want to fully immerse myself in and appreciate the gifts of this particular American tradition.
Unlike that other holiday with its tidings of comfort, joy, and hope, Thanksgiving offers a distinctly different gift . . . a gift that we need as much today as we did almost 400 years ago. As many of us know, the holiday of Thanksgiving is rooted in the joint celebration between Pilgrims and Native Americans for a good harvest of crops. While good food is central to many Thanksgiving celebrations today, it seems that this holiday also offers us a chance to explore and experience more deeply the meaning of harvest . . . which is the topic of my sermon this morning.
To harvest simply means to gather. More specifically, to harvest something seems to indicate that there is a gathering up of something good. We gather up good, mature, and ready vegetables and grain – not immature or spoiled food. We harvest, or gather up, good ideas, good memories, good skills, good conversation, and so on.
And, the act of harvesting these good things – of gathering the very best – also seems to invite as its companion a spirit of abundance. A poor harvest might be said to be no harvest at all if there is little food or other assets to share.
I believe to think of Thanksgiving this way – as an opportunity to gather the good in abundance – is, perhaps, to think of Thanksgiving as a holy day . . . perhaps one that may have particular appeal to Unitarian Universalists.
There is no doctrine of belief associated with this holiday. As people who hold a diversity of beliefs about what is most sacred, there is no need to create clumsy or emotionally-distant metaphors in order to find deep meaning in Thanksgiving’s straight-up message of giving and gratitude. When focused on heart-centered abundance rather than gluttony, Thanksgiving it seems can offer us wonderful spiritual practices . . . spiritual practices that don’t compete for our time and energy as sometimes is the case with the commercialism and stress that typically go along with that other holiday.
Thanksgiving’s spiritual practices can involve pilgrimages . . . pilgrimages such as making an annual trek to the homes of friends or family, as Tony described in his personal reflection. It can draw us into simple and tactile spiritual rituals of rinsing, slicing, chopping, stirring, and other means of food preparation. We may find ourselves coming into contact with food that is “nearer to the ground” – that is, less processed and prepared than what we might normally consume during the week . . . foods like baked sweet potatoes, squash, beans, corn, cranberries, and grains.
Assuming we don’t overindulge, we might find ourselves eating healthier food and taking the time to eat it slowly and thoughtfully in the presence of others, versus eating it alone at our desks or while we’re driving in the car between appointments.
Which brings me to another spiritual practice that Thanksgiving offers – perhaps not unique to Thanksgiving, but unique in the fact that Thanksgiving as most of us know it likely can’t occur without it. It’s something that Tony knew and eventually couldn’t convince himself to do without. And, that is, an in-person appearance.
Thanksgiving, perhaps unlike that other holiday when one can mail a gift or a card and still call it legit, needs warm body participation.
We can’t phone in our place at the table for the big meal. We can’t tweet or text our traditional position as running back for the family game of touch football. A “like” on Facebook is nice, but it can’t really replace a hug from Aunt Sissy, the smell of turkey roasting in the oven, or the smile on the face of someone we might serve at the soup kitchen. We have to be there. No matter the distance, no matter the inconvenience, many of us like Tony feel that tug at Thanksgiving to gather with people we care about.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not putting down the value of staying connected with cell phones, e-mail, and social media. In fact, the main reason I created a Facebook page was so that I could stay connected to my teenaged nephews, who have always lived miles away from me and for a long time have been the only kids in my life.
Rather, what I’m suggesting is that Thanksgiving may be the holiday in our American culture that has universal appeal because it depends almost exclusively on the one thing that nearly every human being is capable of doing – that is, getting together with another human being.
The universal appeal of this holiday with its emphasis on gathering and giving . . . its ability to transcend differences in cultures and creeds . . . was brought home to me in a particularly powerful way this past Thursday night. I was one of six faith leaders invited to speak at an interfaith gathering of about 700 people at Temple Kol Emeth, a Jewish synagogue located in Marietta. The celebration, which was entitled “Many Faiths, One Service”, was co-hosted by Rabbi Steven Lebow and Imam Amjad Taufique of the Islamic Center of Marietta.
The service included other clergy from the Christian, Jewish and Muslim traditions; a large and glorious interfaith choir; bell ringers, and other musicians; and a guest speaker from MUST Ministries, which provides food, shelter, and other assistance to persons in need and was the recipient of the evening’s offering.
Each of the speakers was asked to talk about how we understand and celebrate Thanksgiving through the lens of our faith tradition. This theme made me stop and think for a moment. Do Unitarian Universalists celebrate Thanksgiving differently than persons from other faiths?
At first, I didn’t think so. We probably eat as much turkey and pie as anyone else. We’re motivated possibly no more or no less than our friends from other faith traditions to feed the hungry, visit someone in a nursing home, or practice other acts of radical hospitality that
day. We’re motivated possibly because so many of the world’s faith traditions – including ours – are guided by some version of the Golden Rule, which invites us to treat others as we would like to be treated.
Unitarian Universalists, it seems to me, have no special interpretation of Thanksgiving’s themes of gratitude and giving. We don’t have a unique story, myth, or ritual in which we ground our understanding of these spiritual principles.
So, what exactly holds Unitarian Universalists accountable for practicing acts of gratitude and giving?
Well, I couldn’t tell the persons gathered at Temple Kol Emeth Thursday night that it is our shared belief in a loving and generous God, as we know that a distinct characteristic of Unitarian Universalism is that we allow the individual to decide what is most sacred to him or her . . . which can include radically different understandings of God or a belief in no God at all.
Nor could I tell the persons gathered that evening that our spirit of gratitude and giving emanates from our shared religious doctrine, as Unitarian Universalists don’t adhere to a common creed or formal statement of belief.
What I did tell them was this: what I believe collectively guides Unitarian Universalists in our faith and in our desire to express thanks and generosity during this holiday is not our shared understandings of God or religious doctrine but, rather, our shared humanity.
It is our shared humanity that inspires us to bring the best of ourselves to our shared living experience. It is our shared humanity that compels us to spread kindness and hope whenever and wherever we can, because this world and life we share depends upon it. And, it is our shared humanity that pleads with us to find common ground . . . common ground in those spiritual principles of gratitude and giving . . . spiritual principles that transcend differences in religious beliefs and enable us to come together in joy and peace.
In fact, I believe that recognizing our shared humanity is more critical than ever . . . especially as there is escalating violence in the Middle East this week. The co-host of our Thursday interfaith event, Imam Amjad Taufique, said he was so discouraged about the missile fire and conflict that has erupted on the border between Israel and the Gaza Strip that he almost didn’t feel like coming to the service that evening.
But, Imam Amjad said he realized that a gathering like this . . . one where people of different faiths found common ground in our understanding of giving and gratitude . . . a gathering like this absolutely needed to take place. And so, for the eighth consecutive year, it did.
A gathering like the one we had Thursday night . . . and the many gatherings that will be occurring over this coming week . . . are reminders that we are more alike than different. So, in the words of Unitarian Universalist Minister Richard Gilbert, let us this Thanksgiving “celebrate the common rituals that make us kin.” And these rituals are, Gilbert writes,
“The poignancy of welcome and farewell,
The anguish of defeat,
The tender touch of those who call us friend;
“The exuberant joy of birth,
The empty space in our hearts when a loved one dies,
The ultimate loneliness that each knows,
The warm embrace of comrades who welcome us to the celebration of life;
“The questions that
persist and perplex
and do not yield to our need for answers,
“The shining moments when the sun slants across
our dim meandering path and illuminates the way,
The strange and anxious excitement of moving on
to new places to call home;
“The fragments of frustration when
our best efforts yield pitiful results,
The helplessness we feel in a world
that sometimes presents only problems,
“The high joy when some small victory for humanity is won
and we have helped it happened.
“In all our moments of doubt and despair,
problem and pain,
Let us remember the common lot shared by our human kin.
“In all our times of truth and triumph, of faith and fortitude,
Let us celebrate what we share.
We are, after all, in this together.”
To all those colleagues, musicians, speakers, and congregants that were at the Temple – I affirm that it was good and right and vital that we came together Thursday night. We must believe that what we share – our pain, our questions, our desire to love and be loved, our concern for our children – we must believe that all these shared things can overcome the fear of our differences.
I believe it is essential that we have faith in Thanksgiving’s universal message of gratitude and giving . . . we must have faith in the power of love and its ability to conquer hate and heal wounds. We must because I believe it’s the only way we will survive and thrive as one humanity.
So, this coming week, as you gather with family and friends, let’s keep in our hearts a prayer for peace . . . a prayer that our shared humanity and the spirit of love triumphs all our differences. May it be so as we carry the spirit of Thanksgiving forth from this place.
Amen.