Seeing people happy around the table makes me think that something good is happening among them. But seeing people laughing, smiling, talking to each other — and even dancing — around food makes me realize how important the time of fellowship is at the church dinners we share.
I was talking to my friend from the Cherokee Nation of Oklahoma one time about how squirrels can signal to us what kind of winter we could look forward to. He said that when the squirrels dig holes in the ground to bury their harvest, we can expect a mild winter. If squirrels carry their harvest to their nests, then a heavy snow would be expected, as snow would be more difficult for the animals to work through to get to the food.
It’s November. The air is full of politics across the United States, and the world will be watching to see whether the face of our country will change or will be one more edition of the same old, same old.
In a few weeks, many of us will make our way to a place we call home in observance of Thanksgiving, our most religiously secular and secularly religious holiday. Gathered around a table of plenty, we will partake and share, acknowledging God’s gracious bounty to all and giving thanks for it.
At Thanksgiving—when gatherings of all shapes, sizes, ages, and configurations traditionally come together to thank God for food and family, home and hearth—one 12-year old boy is thankful for something else entirely.
The election earlier this month revealed deep divisions in our country and raised many important questions for Christian people of faith as we look to our future as the Church. For many faithful Presbyterians, one of the questions facing us this week has a particular urgency: How can we navigate the tensions surrounding the Thanksgiving dinner table with friends and family who voted differently from us?
