It is Good for Us to Gather

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

November 24, 2025

Interfaith Thanksgiving Service

It is Good for Us to Gather

First, I want to begin by welcoming all of you to St. Thomas’.

Welcome to this holy place where people have been offering praise and thanksgiving since 1742.

 

Welcome to all of you who have gathered here in person and to everyone joining us online. 

Second, I want to offer thanks.

Thank you to everyone here at St. Thomas’, parishioners and staff, who helped get everything ready.

And many thanks to my colleagues for creating our service and for participating tonight.

And I also want to thank Jon Waller and everyone making beautiful music.

It is good for us to gather.

Especially in a time when our divisions can seem as deep and wide as canyons, it is good for us - people of different faiths, people with, I’m sure, differing ideas about all sorts of things – it is good for us to gather in a spirit of peace and friendship.

Especially in a time when so many struggle to pay the bills, when for many a trip to the supermarket is an occasion for anxiety and careful calculation, it is good for us to gather in a spirit of generosity, sharing some of our abundance with our hungry neighbors who line up each week at the Community Crisis Center in Reisterstown.

Thank you in advance for supporting the Crisis Center, either by dropping money into the offering plate or using the QR code on the back page of the service bulletin.

And tonight, we hold in our hearts the Crisis Center’s Executive Director, Eileen Compton-Little, whose husband, Patrick, was killed in a car crash last week.

And we promise to support Eileen as best we can during her time of grief.

It is good for us to gather.

Especially in a time when we face many real and daunting challenges, it is good for us to gather in a spirit of hope.

And while the holiday season has been in full swing for quite a while now – I think it starts sometime in late August now – it is good for us to gather, to take a breath in this sacred space, and reflect on what is most important.

It is good for us to gather.

So, about the “holiday season.” 

It’s very common for Christian clergy to critique the materialism of Christmas.

I admit that I’ve done it – I did it just now, actually - but each time I do, I feel a twinge of hypocrisy because when I was a kid I used to get so excited about Christmas.

And I wish I could say that it was the profound spiritual meaning of Christmas that got me so worked up. 

But, no, of course not, it was the gifts.

For weeks, I would wonder what I was going to “get” for Christmas, what I was going to “get” from Santa, what I was going to “get” from my parents, from my relatives.

So, by the time Christmas Eve finally arrived, I could barely contain myself – and in the middle of the night, or maybe not even that late, my sister and I would head into the living room, opening our presents as my poor bleary-eyed parents looked on.

These are wonderful – slightly embarrassing – but wonderful memories.

But, as I’ve gotten older, it’s the memories of my childhood Thanksgivings that I cherish most.

We always went to my grandparents’ house. They lived in a rowhouse in downtown Jersey City, New Jersey - a house just slightly wider than a typical Baltimore rowhouse.

Since my parents, sister, and I lived pretty close to my grandparents, we were often among the first to arrive – which was a really good thing, since it’s possible that my sister and I got to sample some of the crispier parts of the stuffing.

Year after year, as my extended family continued to grow, we all somehow crammed into just two rooms – the kitchen, where my grandmother cooked and the kids ate, and the living room, dominated by a makeshift long table right down the middle.

And, it wasn’t just family – each year there were always a few other people there, too – people who I think may have had no other place to be – there were some more distant relatives (you know, like, second cousins twice removed), there was a Dominican nun named Sister Mary Evelyn, I remember her being there once or twice..

There was Mr. Miller, who seemed very old and I still don’t know his connection to us.

There was Morris and Shirley, who owned the shade and blind store where my grandmother worked, I remember them stopping by.

I’m sure there were others I’ve forgotten.

Now, my grandparents were not wealthy people but somehow there was always space for another seat at the table, the plates were always full, there was always more than enough.

It was good for us to gather.

Although my grandmother was a very devout Roman Catholic, I don’t remember much, if any, praying at Thanksgiving. I don’t think we said grace. No one offered a blessing.

The prayer was hard work.

The grace was generosity.

The blessing was hospitality.

And it was all – all of it - thanksgiving.

And better than any Christmas gift.

In a way, I’ve imagined tonight’s service as kind of like one of those long-ago Thanksgiving feasts.

True, we are doing a good bit of praying, offering beautiful prayers.

And, sadly, there’s no crispy stuffing available.

But we’ve invited everyone, people we know well and people we’ve never met.

And it is kind of tight up here, isn’t it?

I hope that tonight’s celebration of gratitude will remind us of our blessings and give us courage to do the hard work demanded by these challenging times.

I hope that we will be inspired to be even more generous and even more boldly hospitable.

I hope that tonight is the start of a new tradition – and, in fact, Rabbi Gruenberg has already graciously offered to host next year’s service.

And, finally, through every season, I hope that we will remember that it is good for us to gather.

Amen.

Thanksgiving Unplugged

The Church of St. Paul and Incarnation

Grace Church Van Vorst

Jersey City, NJ

Year A: Thanksgiving Day

Deuteronomy 8:7-18

Psalm 65

Luke 17:11-19

Thanksgiving Unplugged

        Like Grace Church, in the first days of the pandemic we here at St. Paul and Incarnation had to quickly figure out how we were going to continue worshiping during this unprecedented time when we would not be able to gather together in person, at least not for a while.

There was no one right solution and each community has had to figure this out, but here we decided to continue offering our 10:00 Sunday service pretty much like we always did, but with just me and my wife Sue – who over all these months has been lector, acolyte, and, most important of all, tech support.

Those first few Sundays, it sure felt weird – so strange to be preaching into an iPhone, sad to look out at all the empty pews.

But, what Sue and I missed the most – and what I know our congregation missed the most because they told me - repeatedly – was the music.

So, there was great rejoicing when Gail was able to return, and each Sunday since she has offered us a beautiful prelude and postlude.

Over these past few months, with not much else going on in here, it’s been fascinating to focus and really see Gail work – to hear her sing and play, almost always just by herself.

And, like all great artists who have been at it for a while, she’s secure in her craft – there’s really nothing left for her to prove – definitely no need to show off.

No, instead, there’s this spiritual and artistic purity - just Gail’s voice and the piano.

Seeing and hearing her each week has reminded me of those concerts when rock musicians sometimes ditch the band and disconnect the electronics – “unplugged,” right, so that the focus is on what is essential.

Maybe it seems strange to say this since right now you’re all watching us on your computers or phones, but I think Thanksgiving this year is “unplugged.”

By necessity we’ve scaled back or stripped away much of our Thanksgiving customs.

So, yes, there is still a Macy’s parade this morning but it’s a much more modest event than in years past.

Later today, we may still have a nice meal, but we might be eating it alone or with just a smaller than usual group of people.

And, although, unfortunately, some are rolling the dice and trying to do the holiday the way we always do, for most of us this year it really is Thanksgiving unplugged.

Which is definitely not the Thanksgiving we would have chosen, but there are blessings to be found in getting back to the essentials.

As we heard in our readings from Deuteronomy and Luke – and as we know from our own experience – it is easy to forget gratitude.

Even on day that we call “Thanksgiving,” it’s easy to get wrapped up in preparing and eating all that food - it’s so easy to take for granted the people around us and it is certainly easy to forget about the God who leads us to freedom and who always offers healing and new life.

So, as hard as this time has been, I think our “unplugging” has been good for us – scaling back and stripping away so much – leaving gratitude, pure and beautiful gratitude.

So, here’s one thing I’ve noticed.

I can’t speak to how it goes at Grace, but here when we were all in church together and it came time to pray for people in need, I used to hear lots of people whisper or call out names, identifying specific intentions.

But, when it came time for us to give thanks, to name our blessings, it was usually a lot quieter – probably out of shyness about seeming to boast about just how blessed we are, but also maybe because we didn’t fully appreciate just how blessed we are.

But now, when we’re praying on the phone, I hear so much gratitude – so many thanks given for the people we love, for the shelter that protects us, for the food that sustains us, and, yes, for our church, for the beloved community that has held together during some tough times.

I hear so much gratitude – so many thanks given for the doctors and nurses and everyone working in healthcare – for the scientists racing to deliver vaccines – for the bus drivers and train engineers getting us where we need to go – for the cashiers and clerks who keep the supermarkets open and for the delivery people who bring us items so we don’t have to risk our safety by going to the store – for the teachers struggling to somehow educate our children in this time of fear and confusion – on and on it goes, day after day, so much gratitude, so many thanks given.

So, here we are this morning – the Episcopalians of Jersey City – gathered together like we never have before on a Thanksgiving Day unlike any we’ve experienced before.

Here we are like a musician without the band, with the electronics all disconnected.

We are “unplugged” – so much has been scaled back or stripped away – leaving just pure gratitude and love – just what God has always wanted.

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.

Amen.

Thanksgiving in February

The Church of St. Paul and Incarnation, Jersey City NJ

November 28, 2019

Thanksgiving Day

Deuteronomy 26:1-11

Psalm 100

Philippians 4:4-9

John 6:25-35

Thanksgiving in February

            You know, we’ve managed to mess up many of our holidays, days that have lost much of their original meaning and instead have become about drumming up business with special sales.

            But, despite our worst efforts – “Black Friday” keeps starting earlier and earlier – despite our worst efforts, we haven’t been able to mess up Thanksgiving.

            And I think that’s because on a very deep level we recognize the importance of gratitude.

            Science has shown that gratitude deepens the bonds among us and makes us more generous.

            And, Jews and Christians have recognized the importance of gratitude from the start.

Jews were called to offer their first fruits to God in gratitude for the gift of their land – and every time we gather at the Lord’s Table is a profound act of thanksgiving for the gift of Jesus.

We know that gratitude is important and we know that ingratitude stinks.

            Ignatius of Loyola once said that “Ingratitude is the worst and most abominable sin, and in fact the origin of all sins.”

           

In an effort to show gratitude and to share our abundance with the community, some of you may remember that for the first few years I was here we offered a community Thanksgiving meal in Carr Hall.

            It was a tradition started by Trish Szymanski. She had begun it in her own home and then used the tiny space of Honey Bakery, a restaurant that used to be around the corner on Bergen Avenue.

            Moving the Thanksgiving feast here to our relatively spacious kitchen and hall gave Trish and her band of volunteers more elbow room, but it was still a ton of work, especially the way they prepared everything from scratch.

            Each Thanksgiving there would be mountains of delicious food available for hours to any and all hungry people who might come by.

            (I had to resist the temptation to eat too much because then I would have no appetite for Thanksgiving with my family!)

            We had a more or less steady stream of very grateful people come through but never as many as we expected or hoped. None of the food ever went to waste but it always made me a little sad that we weren’t able to attract more people to something so beautiful and delicious.

            I’m sure we could have done a better job of spreading the word but I think the real problem was that on Thanksgiving Day and the days leading up to it, there was a lot of competition – a lot of generosity and a lot of gratitude.

            Politicians, churches, and community organizations distribute lots of turkeys and all the fixings, and especially in poorer neighborhoods there are lots of free meals offered on Thanksgiving Day itself.

            As has been true for the past few Thanksgivings, this morning an army of God’s Love We Deliver volunteers descended on our parish hall and then fanned out to deliver Thanksgiving to people who are shut-in.

            There is a lot of turkey, a lot of potatoes and stuffing, a lot of pumpkin pie - a lot of Thanksgiving all around us this week!

            But, soon it will all be over: the leftovers, all those the turkey salad sandwiches will be eaten – and our levels of generosity – our level of thanksgiving – will return to normal.

            And, if you’re like me, our normal level of thanksgiving is not very high.

            The glass usually looks half-empty to me.

            After we decided to no longer offer our Thanksgiving meals we talked about doing “Thanksgiving in February” – to do a big feast in the middle of the winter, when there won’t be much “competition” at all, when temperatures - and often our spirits - are quite low.

            We haven’t done that yet but maybe this winter we will.

            So, today is the holiday we can’t seem to mess up – and even if our lives are hard – and I know they often are – even if the world seems to be falling apart – and it sure does - today we are usually able to muster up some gratitude.

            It feels to good to recognize that we are so blessed - blessed to simply breathe in and exhale out, that we are able to see a sunrise and a sunset, that we are able to be here to pray and to sing, that we are able to find spiritual shelter in this beautiful place.

            But, soon it will all be over: we will return to normal, and we may go a long time before we really give thanks again.

            So, my prayer is that God will give us the strength to carry the spirit of Thanksgiving into the Februarys of our lives, that God will open our hearts even in the cold and gray times, when giving thanks may be the farthest thing from our mind.

            Fortunately, church isn’t just open on Thanksgiving but we’re here year-round, in the good times and the not so good, gathered together to feast, and most of all, gathered to say thank you to God for Jesus, for life, and for one another.

            Amen.

            

"The Discipline of Gratitude"

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

November 24, 2016

Year C: Thanksgiving Day

Deuteronomy 26:1-11

Psalm 100

Philippians 4:4-9

John 6-25-35

“The Discipline of Gratitude”

            In the passage we just heard from Paul’s Letter to the Philippians, the apostle writes, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything…”

            Well, that’s easier said than done, right?

            If you were at our beautiful Interfaith Thanksgiving Service on Tuesday night, you heard Rev. Gary preach a dynamite sermon which included the point that it’s pretty easy to be thankful when things are going your way, but a whole lot harder to be thankful during tough times. It’s tough to be thankful when it feels like our whole world is falling apart.

            It’s hard to be thankful when we face illness, or when a relationship has cracked and broken, or when we watch someone we love make terrible decisions, or when we’ve got a pile of bills that we just can’t pay, or, yes, when it looks like our country is heading down a very dangerous road.

            How can we be thankful when we understandably feel anything but thankful?

            Well, this past week I was poking around the Internet for quotes about gratitude and I came upon this from the 20^th Century Roman Catholic priest and writer, Henri Nouwen, who wrote,

            “The discipline of gratitude is the explicit effort to acknowledge that all I am and have is given to me as a gift of love, a gift to be celebrated with joy.”

            I like that a lot, especially the phrase, “the discipline of gratitude.”

            The older I get, the more convinced I am of the importance of spiritual discipline, of doing our best to structure our lives so there is regular time for prayer, regular time for worship, regular time for service to others, and, yes, regular time for gratitude.

            The discipline of gratitude.

            Thanksgiving Day gives us a special opportunity to practice the discipline of gratitude since the whole day, the very name of the day, points us in the direction of being grateful.

            But, of course, one day a year isn’t really much of a discipline, is it?

            So, what might the discipline of gratitude look like during the rest of the year?

            Well, we practice the discipline of gratitude by being mindful, by being mindful that it is truly amazing that we are all here together, all here together on a rock sailing through the universe, all here together able to love and to laugh, to touch and to learn, to see and to hear such great beauty.

            The rest of the year we practice the discipline of gratitude by remembering – by remembering our own personal story and especially by remembering the story of God and us.

            In today’s Old Testament lesson from Deuteronomy, the people of Israel are called to remember their story, their story of God and them, their story of God leading them out of captivity in Egypt into freedom in the promised land.

            And, each time we come to church we remember – we remember the story of God and us – we remember the story of God loving us so much that God came and lived among us – we remember the story of God loving us so much that even when we did our worst, God still never gave up on us – and will never give up on us.

            Each time we gather around the altar we remember that God has fed us – and continues to feed us – with the Bread of Life.

            Finally, we practice the discipline of gratitude by giving to others, especially those who can’t pay us back.

            Each time we’ve gone over to the homeless drop-in center and served a delicious homemade hot lunch, I know I feel deep, deep gratitude – gratitude that I get to do such meaningful work with such wonderful people, gratitude that I’ve been given so much, and have the ability to share.

            And, when we are mindful, and when we remember, and when we serve – when we practice the discipline of gratitude during the good times, during the times when things are pretty much normal, then, with God’s help, we really will be disciplined enough to be grateful even when things aren’t going our way, when it feels like our world is falling apart.

            And, that gratitude will leave God just enough room to give us the grace we need to face those hard times – to really know and feel that, yes, indeed, no matter what, even when our world seems to be falling apart, the Lord is near.

            May we together practice the discipline of gratitude not just today, but each and every day of the year.

            Amen.

The War on Thanksgiving

The Interdenominational Ministerial Alliance of Jersey City and Vicinity

Pre-Thanksgiving Service

New Redeemer Reformed Episcopal Church, Jersey City NJ

November 24, 2013

Deuteronomy 8:1-3, 6-10

Mark 10:41-45

The War on Thanksgiving

            “May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.”

            Over the past few weeks, if you’ve been watching TV or if you’ve been in a mall, or in a store, or even if you’ve just been breathing, you know that once again America has moved into what it calls the Christmas Season or the holiday season.

            The cheery music is playing, the colorful lights are blinking, and the tinsel and garland are hanging – all in an attempt to get us into the “holiday spirit.” All in an attempt to get us into the holiday spirit so we’ll buy stuff – and the more stuff the better. All in an attempt to get us to buy stuff – stuff often made by exploited workers in faraway lands.

            Over the past decade or so, some people, including some pretty loud voices in the media, and maybe including some of us here today, have taken to call all of this materialism and secularization, “The War on Christmas.”

            We’ve been desperate for effective strategies and tactics to use in this war against much-better funded opponents. So, what have we done?

            Well, some have us have slapped bumper stickers on our cars with slogans like, “Keep Christ in Christmas.”

            What else? There are a lot of clergy here today, and I’m sure many of us – and I include myself – have railed from the pulpit about how we’re losing the true meaning of Christmas – how we’re losing to Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph (the Red-Nosed Reindeer, not Daniels!), Elf on a Shelf, Santa, and all that junk that we buy during the so-called Christmas Season.

            And maybe some of us - when we’re shopping and a sales clerk or cashier flashes a dutiful smile and wishes us “Happy Holidays!” or “Season’s Greetings!” – maybe some of us instead sneer back, “Merry Christmas!”

            (But, let’s be honest that there’s nothing particularly Christian or even merry in taking that kind of approach to a store employee who’s more than likely completely exhausted from working long hours and trying to get by on a minimum wage salary.)

            Anyway, despite our feeble opposition, what the world calls the Christmas season is well underway. But it won’t really kick into high gear until what the media have taught us to call “Black Friday,” the day after Thanksgiving.

            I’m not going to ask for a show of hands. Maybe we’ve been out there. Or, maybe not. But, we’ve all seen pictures of determined and dedicated - and often freezing - shoppers camped out overnight in front of stores – eager to get the first crack at buying some of that stuff made by exploited workers in faraway lands.

            As I’m sure you’ve noticed, each year “Black Friday” starts earlier and earlier – it’s gotten so early, in fact, that it’s now intruding on the holiday we are here to celebrate today, Thanksgiving.

            Doing something that was once unthinkable, more and more stores are opening on Thanksgiving Day. Some workers are happy for the additional income while I’m sure others are sorry to miss precious time with family and friends, not to mention the turkey and stuffing and cranberry sauce.

            First there was the “War on Christmas” and now, it seems, there’s a… “War on Thanksgiving.”

            So, over the past few weeks, getting ready to be with you here today, I’ve been thinking a lot about this War on Thanksgiving.

            And, I’ve come to the conclusion that this war has been going on for a lot longer than we may have realized.

            In some ways, Thanksgiving is the most American of holidays – with its roots in the Pilgrims’ gratitude to God for their survival (though they should’ve also been thankful for the know-how and help of the Indians, too.)

            In some ways, Thanksgiving is the most American of holidays – made official by Abraham Lincoln in 1863 in the midst of our bloodiest war, in the midst of our greatest liberation struggle.

            But, in other ways, Thanksgiving is the least American holiday, too.

            As a people, we tend to believe in self-reliance – we tend to assume that somehow our achievements are ours alone, that somehow we don’t need to extend a word of thanks to anyone, let alone to God, the Source of all good gifts.

            Instead of Thanksgiving being about gratitude to God, it’s often become about gluttony – feasting at tables groaning under the weight of turkeys and all the rest.

            Instead of Thanksgiving being about gratitude to God, it’s often become about football - and now, in our super-materialistic culture, Thanksgiving is in danger of being swallowed up by an ever-expanding “Black Friday.”

            So, what are we, as people of faith - what are we Christians - to do?

            How do we fight the good fight in the War on Christmas and the War on Thanksgiving?

            Well, I’m pretty sure the answer isn’t preaching fiery sermons to the proverbial choir who gather in our churches each week, hungry for the Good News. I’m pretty sure the answer isn’t more bumper stickers, or sneering “Merry Christmas!” at underpaid cashiers, or even in boycotting stores that open on Thanksgiving Day.

            But, what are we, as people of faith - what are we Christians - to do?

            The answer is found where it’s always found, in the Word of God.

            In the passage we heard from Deuteronomy, God reminds the Israelites of the great gifts that God has given. God reminds the Israelites that God has led them, protected them on their long forty-year wilderness journey. God reminds the Israelites of the bread from heaven – the bread that filled their stomachs and filled their hearts.

            And, in today’s reading from the Gospel of Mark, Jesus reminds us that those who want to lead must be servants of all. We are all called to live lives of loving service to God and to each other.

            Yes, there are wars going on. And our Enemy is the same as always: our enemy is the temptation to reject God, to forget God, to depend on ourselves alone.

            Yes, there are wars going on. And our Enemy is the same as always: our enemy is the temptation to think that what’s most important, all that’s important, is what we can see and touch and taste.

            But, what are we, as people of faith, to do?

            How do we fight the good fight in the War on Christmas and the War on Thanksgiving?

            We fight the good fight in the War on Christmas and Thanksgiving by showing the world a better way, a more excellent way, by showing the world the Way, the Truth and the Life.

            By God’s grace, we fight the good fight by living faithful and prayerful lives.           

            We fight the good fight by not being like everybody else, by not being like the world.

            We fight the good fight by really being who we say we are – by being faithful followers of Jesus Christ – faithful disciples of Jesus Christ – Jesus Christ who teaches us that true joy is found in risking everything for Him, giving away our lives for Him, by serving those who are the least among us.

            We fight the good fight by really being who we say we are – by being faithful followers of Jesus Christ – faithful disciples of Jesus Christ – Jesus Christ who teaches us to love everyone - especially our enemies, to embrace everyone - especially the most despised, to give and give and give and not to count the cost.

            We fight the good fight by living lives of Thanksgiving – by living lives of profound, bottomless gratitude – gratitude to God for all the good gifts God has given us: gratitude for our very lives, for our families and friends, for the privilege of serving others, for our churches and for the Church, and, most of all, gratitude for Jesus, the King born in humility and coming in glory.

            We fight the good fight in the War on Christmas and Thanksgiving by not being like everybody else, by not being like the world, by showing the world through our lives, by our example, a better way, a more excellent way, by showing the world the Way, the Truth and the Life.

            So, yes, there’s a war going on.

            There’s a war on Thanksgiving and a war on Christmas.

            The world wants us to fill ourselves with food and to fill our homes and our lives with stuff made in faraway lands by exploited workers. And we are surely tempted.

            Meanwhile, God calls us just as God has always called us.

            God calls us to remember all the good gifts – all the manna – that God has given us.

            God calls us to serve God – and to serve one another.

            And God calls us to live Christ-like lives of love.

            There are wars going on.

            Which side are we on?

            Amen.