Thanksgiving Day: Arousing Out of Need, Not Abundance
(delivered by Rabbi Sacks on Friday, November 17, 2023)
If we think about Thanksgiving and research its history, we find that it has been largely misunderstood. We usually paint an idyllic picture of Pilgrims inviting Native Americans to festive tables piled high with sumptuous dishes. In truth, the English settlers observed that first Thanksgiving after a year of pitiless adversity. Most historians, it seems, contend that the First Thanksgiving, the one to which our celebration hearkens, was celebrated not in the fall but on July 30, 1623,[1] after a bitterly cold winter, sickness, attacks by Native Americans, and a spring drought that had decimated almost 250 of the 350 colonists. It occurred precisely one day before a ship arrived from England, bringing much needed supplies and additional colonists. It was on that day that the Pilgrims observed their Thanksgiving–not in a time of abundance, but in a time of want, a time of need, a time of deep concern. And they did it by word and by deed, inviting the very Native Americans who had assaulted them so recently and by praising G!d.
It was not until 240 years later that Thanksgiving Day became a national holiday. Did it become so in a period of plenty? No. The institutionalization of Thanksgiving, like the original Thanksgiving, came at a time of need, want, and concern. It came, in fact, in the darkest moments of our Civil War. In 1863 President Abraham Lincoln issued a proclamation appointing the last Thursday in November the day of observance. The proclamation, written by Secretary of State William H. Seward, states, “In the midst of a civil war of unequaled magnitude and severity…”[2] It was only then that Thanksgiving Day became a national holiday, supplanting Evacuation Day, which commemorated the British withdrawal from the United States after the American Revolution.
In 1939, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt moved Thanksgiving Day one week earlier, to try to raise American spirits and create a boost in the economy as the world was moving toward world war while we were yet in the last throes of the Great Depression.
In 1942, not much longer after our country entered World War II did an act of Congress take the date of Thanksgiving out of the President’s hands and finalize it as the fourth Thursday in November.
The lesson of Thanksgiving is that in the midst of trouble–especially in the midst of difficulties and misfortunes–we need to find a reason to be thankful. This spiritual truth was articulated by Rabbi Pinchas: Kol ha-t’filot le-atid lavo b’teilot; v’hodaya einah b’teilah. “All prayers in the future-to-come will be canceled; yet thanksgiving will not be canceled.”[3] The desire, and deep need, to offer thanksgiving will never cease. So even when things look dark, we can, and we should, find glimmerings of hope and light.
In this time,
- when Israel is at war, and the world cannot seem to differentiate between the acts of the terrorists and the need for Israel to dismantle the terrorists,
- when antisemitism continues to rise in the world and now seems a visible stain on the American landscape,
- when wages seem not to keep up with inflation and the gap between the haves and have-nots keeps increasing,
- when senseless gun violence makes us worry about our safety in public spaces;
- when incivility seems to pervade our culture,
- when people think it moral to laud crassness and cheer calls to attack others,
- when a disdain for science, truth, and honor leave many distraught,
- when fires can change our lives suddenly and undermine our confidence in what we have built and achieved;
the need for Thanksgiving remains, and feels more welcome, more necessary, more vital, than ever.
Thanksgiving Day is a beacon, shining a light on those values for which our country has always stood; a beam, a ray, illuminating our human warmth, a warmth that can yet begin to bring us back together; and of the hopes we bear, which might yet be realized.
We have started seeing the glimpses of this, of how a beacon of light can reignite our desire for decency and community, a light that helps us to see the best in others and live the best within ourselves,
- as Israelis stood for hours in line to give blood to help the victims of the Hamas attack,
- as both Republican and Democratic leaders have stood with Israel in her time of need, and clarifying the fight against terror as one of good versus evil,
- as people offered their time and resources to help the now homeless victims,
- as we have made it passed the pandemic,
- as the threat of a national shutdown has been again averted,
- as the American Farm Bureau released the figures that the prices of Thanksgiving dinner itself will be lower this year, due to lower costs of turkeys, cranberries, pie crusts, and whipped cream,
- as we have kept our humanity, decency, love, and sense of humor,
as…, as…, as… And, at the end of the day, it is all these lights and more that we continue to bask in, that we continue to hold up high so that they can continue to guide us–and shine the way for others.
So maybe it’s not just Thanksgiving that’s the beacon of light. Maybe that beacon is you…and me. This Thanksgiving, this Hanukkah, and throughout the upcoming new calendar year, let us not wait to shine our light.
Kein y’hi ratzon. So may it be.
A happy, meaningful, Thanksgiving to you and yours. And may its light continue to shine.
[1] Whatever historicity lies behind the 1621 event, it was apparently not a Thanksgiving–and was never referred to as such.
[2] http://www.abrahamlincolnonline.org/lincoln/speeches/thanks.htm.
[3] Midrash Tehillim (The Midrash on Psalms) 56:2.