Years ago, as a young pastor, a young woman entered my office on Thanksgiving Eve. She was nervous. I thought it might have been because she hadn’t been to church in a while. In fact, I don’t think I had ever seen her there. But that wasn’t it. As she entered my office, I think some of her nervousness was that she was talking to a pastor...pastors in those days could be intimidating...even feared...something that I wanted desperately to eliminate in my ministry. But as this young woman started to get comfortable with me, she finally shared what was really on her heart. She wanted to ask me for a favor. You see on of the traditions in her family was that the oldest male was to bless the Thanksgiving meal at her house. For years that task landed on her father. And he took it very seriously and often offered prayers that were so beautiful that they brought tears to the eyes of many gathered around the table. People would often request written copies so they could share them. But earlier this year her father had died tragically, and so now task was being handed down to the next oldest male: her seven-year-old son, Wade. She smiled and said, “so I think it’s time that silly tradition ended!” I must have had a strange look on my face because she quickly added: “Oh, not the prayer! We’ll keep that! I mean that a man has to say it. I’ve decided that I’m going to take on the task. And that’s where I need your help. Could you help me write one?” I smiled and told her I’d be honored. And so, after 2 or 3 hours of collaboration we had put together a beautiful prayer. One that we both shared around the Thanksgiving table. And so, a new tradition began, and to tell you the truth, we have collaborated on many prayers after that, for this young woman was so caught up in the practice that she felt called to go to local pastor’s school and become a licensed local pastor! As she put it later when she shared it with colleagues with a wink in my direction, “and it all started with a Thanksgiving prayer!”
Prayer has that kind of power over us, no? The simple words of a heart-felt prayer can change the very way in which we see the world! It can change the very way in which we stand to face the world! It can change the very direction in which we choose to walk our lives!
And so, I ask you to ponder with me today just what words you might use to grace your Thanksgiving table this year. Would any of you care to warm my heart by sharing a favorite Thanksgiving grace with me today?
As I ponder that table grace for my family and friends this Thanksgiving, I am thankful to have found a wonderful friend to converse with this week. I met this friend through a prayer our District Superintendent, Rev. Mark Galang, shared with us at our annual Charge Conference. Right before Mark graced us with a blessing, he shared words from a retired Episcopalian bishop from Oklahoma named Steven Charleston. The words which Mark shared touched our gathering deeply. And I was so moved that I ordered the book as soon as I got home. And as I read it, I couldn’t put it down. His prayer and reflection landed right in my heart! I had found a wonderful spiritual friend...one I have been yearning for all my life.
Steven Charleston, you see is a Native American. An indigenous elder whose ancestors walked the “Trail of Tears.” After retiring from serving as an Episcopalian Bishop in Alaska, he now resides in his home country in Oklahoma where he takes care of his father (not 100) and his mother (now 98). As I read his poems, prayers, and reflections, I found a wound that had been put in my heart before my birth, being healed. For as a person of European descent, I have always felt such pain around the tragic relationship between my people and the people indigenous to this land, the people we call Native Americans. As I read these poems and reflections, I found myself wanting to send his book “Spirit Wheel” to every home in the United States with a note to encourage every American to read one of these poems at the Thanksgiving table in honor of the Native Americans who were present that first thanksgiving. Perhaps the same healing that entered my racial wounds could begin to heal the wounds we each carry? Perhaps this book could begin to heal the mistakes we continually make when dealing with people who are different than us. The mistake of thinking of them as “savage” and “spiritually bereft” when in reality we would do better to see them as friends “wise siblings” bearing precious gifts and great words of wisdom. Oh, if we had just listened to their ways and learned! Oh if we just would listen to their ways and learn now.
This is the prayer I will share this year around my table. A prayer by Steven Charleston called “Why Not This Day?”
WHY NOT THIS DAY? This is the day when things change for the better When the healing begins When hope returns like a long-lost friend. This is the day when peace breaks out When people start coming to a reasonable compromise When common sense and the common good Finally get their chance to be heard. This is the day when the breakthrough happens When old hearts become young again When laughter can be heard once more. Of all the days when miracles can start to happen When love can start to grow When your life can be touched by a great blessing: Why not now, why not here, why not this day?
Your friend and pastor, giving thanks for a new friend and the healing powers our God has gifted to him, Brook
PS: I'm serious about those Thanksgiving Prayers...please share them with me!
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