A Thanksgiving Message

Grace and peace to you all on this Thanksgiving Day.

Every year, I’m reminded that Thanksgiving, as beloved and longstanding as it feels, wasn’t made a national holiday until 1863, right in the middle of the Civil War. President Abraham Lincoln—surrounded by division, grief, and fear—called the nation to pause on the final Thursday of November to give thanks.

Decades later, in 1939, President Franklin D. Roosevelt moved the holiday up a week during the Great Depression to try to stimulate the economy; after public outcry, he finally settled on the fourth Thursday in November in 1941. Even then, people worried about Thanksgiving becoming a prelude to shopping. Some things, it seems, don’t change.

But as I revisited Lincoln’s original proclamation, one sentence leapt off the page. Lincoln urged Americans to ask God to “commend to His tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers” and to “heal the wounds of the nation.”

One hundred sixty years later, his plea feels painfully timely.

Our nation is still deeply divided. Public discourse has grown harsher, trust in institutions has eroded, political tension runs high, and violence—whether in our neighborhoods or our newsfeeds—has created far too many “widows, orphans, mourners, and sufferers.” The wounds of our country remain open, and many of us carry our own private ones as well.

And yet Thanksgiving was born as a day of healing. A day to gather, to breathe, to remember that even in fractured times, gratitude can soften our hearts and reawaken our hope. Lincoln meant it to be a moment for restoration, a re-centering on God as the giver of every good gift.

At the same time, we must acknowledge that for many First Nation/Native American siblings, the stories surrounding Thanksgiving carry deep pain. Holding space for that truth is part of our work toward justice, repentance, and reconciliation.

So perhaps this year we might reframe the day a bit.

Let it be a day when we agree—just for a few sacred hours—to set aside political arguments and remember that relationships matter more than winning a debate.

Let it be a day when we name what we’re grateful for and listen without rushing to respond.

Let it be a day when we remember those who struggle, and let our gratitude move us toward compassion, generosity, and the mind of Christ.

Let it be a day to laugh, to reconnect, to savor the gift of simply being together after seasons of distance, isolation, and loss.

And above all, let it be a day when we look for God’s presence in our midst—quietly, faithfully, lovingly—inviting us toward healing, wholeness, and, yes, even unity.

Happy Thanksgiving, dear friends. May the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you now and always. Amen.