Thanksgiving : It could have been otherwise
Sermon by Rev. Victor Carpenter, November
18, 2007
First Religious Society,
The
pilgrim hats were made out of heavy black construction paper with big white
buckles pasted on the front. Brown paper served for the Indians headbands
with colorful paper feathers stuck on the back. They served well
enough for the little dramatic productions that energetic teachers produced, in
which suitably costumed pilgrims and native Americans (in those days we
just called them “Indians”) would greet and eat the make believe feast.
In addition to being more fun than
arithmetic those pageants introduced us to this most American of holidays. And
we remember them fondly long after we learned that they didn’t fit the
facts!
You want facts? Pick up
Nathaniel Philbrick’s splendid account of that first Thanksgiving to which he
devotes a whole chapter in his very readable history of our
But history is only part of it. And, for my money, not the most important part.
Thanksgiving is celebrated because it reminds us to be grateful just for being
alive.
Those settlers first gathered to
give solemn thanks that they were still alive.
The Harvest had been gathered in
and would probably keep the starving time away through the coming winter.
The previous winter had been
terrible - half their number had succumbed to disease (sometimes dying at the
rate of two or three a day). BUT summer had been
generous. Their health had returned; food had been gathered and
stored; they had confidence that they could last another round of seasons.
So they gathered to give thanks
--- surrounded by the memories of all who had died (sons, daughters, parents, friends). They gathered to give
thanks that they had not!!!!
They had survived! And that
was reason enough to offer prayers of thanksgiving.
Here, in this affluent suburb in
21st century
But for most of us, most of the
time, the stakes we play for are not nearly so high.
For most of us the Thanksgiving
worries are pretty mundane: how to keep the kids from squabbling in the back
seat on the way to the feast! The argument over who forgot to pick
up the extra bag of stuffing… Pretty tame stuff.
So, what is there in your own
personal experience that could approximate the outburst of gratitude that
marked that first Thanksgiving?
Here’s one possibility. Do you
remember when you first fell in love????
Do you remember when you walked
down the street on the chance that you’ll meet; and you meet - no really by
chance???????????
When you fall in love, everything
is possible --- and everything is at risk!
When you fall in love you know
that you’re in a life or death situation. If you fail, the world
will collapse.
Fortunately for us, we spend
relatively little of our lives falling in love. I don’t think any of us
would survive if the experience occurred with any great frequency.
Falling in love - or being stuck
by calamity - these are extraordinary events; which means that, for most of us,
the real challenge is not surviving the extraordinary (or the calamitous)
events of our lives, but RISING to the occasion of the recognizing
the extraordinary in the ordinary or in the mundane.
All of us - every one of us – live
in relative comfort, and so we take our lives, pretty much for granted; we
assume that there will always be food to satisfy our hunger and medicine to
cure our ills….
The only trouble is that it is
difficult to feel gratitude when there is no risk; it’s difficult to feel
thankful when there is no sense of urgency
AND THAT FACT is the most
important reason for this holiday - an occasion - coming in the midst of our
dailiness - for celebrating the simple joy of being alive and acknowledging the
manifold blessings which flow to each and every one of us from that great gift.
And sometimes we need to be
reminded of the proximity of death (occurring in the midst of our dailiness) to
bring it home!
A friend, a Unitarian Universalist
minister serving a church on the
One moment he was sitting in his
car, preparing to drive out of his yard on a routine errand; the next moment he
was sitting amongst tree branches and tree trunk that had completely crushed
his automobile while leaving him without a scratch.
He recounted this extraordinary
experience and his reaction to it in a sermon (after all I IS a minister)
saying that for all his gratitude at having survived such an astonishing
occurrence, his mind turned in thanksgiving to all the common, garden variety
experience of good living that he took for granted.
And he quoted this poem by Jane
Kenyon. It’s called “Otherwise”.
I got out
of bed
on two strong legs.
It might
have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took
the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All
morning I did
the work I love.
At noon I
lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate
dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.
I slept
in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one
day, I know
it will be otherwise.
Each of the life-gifts that Jane
Kenyon recalls - a gentle and compelling inventory of small daily
epiphanies - is thrown into high –relief by her repetition of the phrase “It
could have been otherwise”. Until, at the poem’s end when she looks into
the future with the words “and planned another day, just like today.”
Then comes the stunning and powerful, existential realization with the words,”
But one day I know it will be otherwise”.
Jane Kenyon died of leukemia on
April 22nd, 1995. She was 48 years old.
Everyday of our lives, each one of
us lives a variation of that poem. The difference is that we seldom
stop to consider that, for every life-gift we receive “It might have been
otherwise”.
It takes something like a giant
oak tree falling close to your head to remind you of the “otherwise” of life.
And also to remind us that, one day, it will not be otherwise; one day the tree
will not miss; one day the chemotherapy will no longer suffice and the bone
marrow transplant will not occasion the hoped for result ---- and
“it will be otherwise”.
This is so because Life is a gift,
for which we are grateful.
We gather in community to
celebrate the glories and the mysteries of this great gift, knowing full well
that “otherwise” awaits all of us.
But along with this knowledge, you
and I have a gift of choice about how we live. We may deaden our souls
through a lifetime of self-satisfied complacency or we may soar on wings of
gratitude, humbly giving thanks for how much has been given.
It’s a choice worth making and a
risk worth taking. Happy Thanksgiving.