The fourth Thursday of November—American Thanksgiving. In about twelve hours we will host a Thanksgiving feast in our apartment for seven Filipinos, two Malaysians and one Kyrgyz. (No, not Borat—he’s from Kazakhstan not Kyrgyzstan.)
Explaining our strange American holiday traditions to our Asian friends is quite a task. How do I explain our national day of gluttony and our obsession with football (that would be NFL or American football, the sport where you throw and catch a ball with the hand—not the Premier League, not UEFA, not World Cup, not the “football” played by the rest of the world using the foot.) Or, do I give a quick history lesson? Yea, history’s the way to go. . .
In 1620, about 100 Pilgrims (Northern European Christians in goofy black hats and knickers seeking religious freedom for themselves, but not for people of different ethnic origins) landed their boat in the middle of winter near what would later be called Boston. The records are a bit fuzzy, but at the time, most baseball fans agree that it had been at least 100 years since the Red Sox had won the pennant, much less a World Series, but that’s another story. In those days the Braves & Indians dominated.
Almost half the people who landed in Plymouth that winter were dead in a few months, victims of disease. All could have died if not for Squanto, the Native American (“Indian”) who many moons before was captured, taken to Spain as a slave, then to England, then escaped and providentially returned to his village a few months before the Pilgrims and their Mayflower landed. Squanto spoke the King’s English and helped the hapless Europeans survive the brutal New England winter.
By the fall of 1621, through the help of their red-skinned angel, the Pilgrims had a bountiful harvest and decided to celebrate. The original survivors—52 of them—invited about 90 locals to celebrate one year of God’s grace with a feast. They ate, watched the Macy’s parade, ate, watched football games, ate, then passed out.
Thus began the American Thanksgiving tradition.
I don’t have time or space to list all I am thankful for today. Here’s a quick start. Deborah. William, James, and Jonathan. Friends too many to count. My home church—Victory. My ministry partners in Every Nation. The privilege of serving him 23 years in the Philippines. Most of all, I am thankful for God’s incomprehensible and undeserved love, mercy, and grace.
