Thanksgiving is simply the best
why thanksgiving is hands down my favorite holiday
As a pastor, I am somewhat sheepish to admit that Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. You would think that it should be Christmas or Easter, or if I were really fancy, maybe even Pentecost or Epiphany. But no, it’s Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is simple; it’s the one holiday where pastors usually don’t have to work; it requires no gift-buying; it requires only lots and lots of food (and of course some friends or family who can be talked into cooking it!)
My Thanksgiving memories are scattered because they are all so similar. I have vague notions of going to my Great Aunt Rosemary’s house, and eating her mashed potatoes, made famous (or infamous, depending on your diet goals for that year) by the many sticks of butter that went into them. On the other side of the family, my Grandma would always make this oyster casserole, which was beloved not because it was the best tasting dish, necessarily, but because it remained, every year it showed back up, for that one relative who couldn’t do without it (my uncle, I think?). My dad cooks our turkey every year in a high-tech Turkey oven we call the Turkey tanning bed, and every year it tastes amazing. But it’s that constancy, that sense that things stay the same even as they change, that is an amazing comfort, even to a child (and even more so to an adult).
Thanksgiving is rebellious in this way. Eating, laughing, storytelling, napping, gathering for the sake of gratitude to God for life and family and country, all of it together stands as a great testament to sincerity and earnestness, great American qualities, in the face of a culture drowning in cynicism and apathy. It’s so simple, and so needed.
Thanksgiving is wonderful, because it pulls together families, blood relatives, married relatives, relatives we gladly have chosen and others we sadly cannot get away from, to a table where much of our hysteria, divisions, and petty grievances have the opportunity to be washed over with much more important things: the stories of our ancestors, the tall tales of the old-timers, which side is the best (obviously it’s dressing!), who filled up their plate with the most panache, if the turkey was better this year or last year, who is going to win the football game on Saturday, if your nephew is dating anybody yet, etc. etc. Thanksgiving hearkens us back to the stuff of life, the important things that Tolkien’s hobbits understood and Tolkien’s men forsook, that life is at the end of the day all about the table, both what’s on it (good food!) and who’s around it (the people we love!). What else is there?
And yet, family, while it can be the place of our greatest joy, can also be where we experience our deepest pain and brokenness. This is the first Thanksgiving I’ll spend without my Grandy, my mom’s mom—and I know many others in my life who will be going through their first holiday season without their loved ones by their side. Those empty seats at the table are hard to fill, if they ever really can be filled. Grief and joy are strange bedfellows, and they tend to walk hand in hand on holidays, bringing aches and smiles all at once, swelling and receding, challenging our fragile hearts. But it is in grief that we need gratitude the most. Our loved ones cry out to us from heaven, at least I think they might, urging us to carry on, to press forward, to give thanks, and to even take delight in the life we have been given.
Wherever you are at this year, I hope you can delight in this special, set-aside American tradition called Thanksgiving. My prayer is that whoever you eat with this week, wherever you are, whatever state of life you find yourself in, that you can, over the table, over the din of a noisy dinner, or rather in the quiet of a smaller family get together, find joy in the great wonder of simply getting to be alive. It’s really an amazing thing to get to be, if you think about it.
I know the world seems like it is falling apart, with the war in Israel, the ongoing fighting in Ukraine, the rise of dictatorships across the globe, the hatred and vitriol in our own country’s leadership, the pains we have experienced in our relationships with each other over politics, religion, culture, etc.—but it’s in times like these, especially, that we must remember what we are fighting for. Hearth and home, good food and a loving family, warm rooms and soft beds, full bellies, full hearts.
Thank God these remain, in spite of the facts, these undeserved gifts from a Father who loves to give them. What a life we have, to give and to be given! For this, and for all things, and in all things, we give thanks.
Something I’m grateful for this year is for starting this Substack and being able to connect with new people. It’s been a fun, fresh way for me to be creative, and to share about the things that I find interesting; it’s really rewarding when other people can share in that. Thank you so much for reading, sharing articles, and being on this journey with me. You are a blessing to me, and I hope that in some small way, I have been and continue to be a blessing to you. Again, Happy Thanksgiving!