Rev. Dr. Derrick Elliott, Pastor, Sun Lakes United Church of Christ
Thanksgiving is often pictured as a table heavy with food, laughter in the air, and family gathered in peace. It is a season to name blessings and give thanks for life’s bounty. Yet, as a pastor, I feel the tension between this image and Jesus’ words in the Beatitudes.
“Blessed are the poor in spirit … Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.” These blessings don’t fit the images of abundance that dominate our holiday. While many of us push back from full tables, Jesus points to blessing in hunger, mourning, and humility. Gratitude in God’s kingdom does not begin in comfort. It starts with awareness, seeing who lacks what we enjoy and expanding the circle of care.
That awareness also calls us to honesty about Thanksgiving itself. Too often, we cling to the image of pilgrims and Native peoples sharing a peaceful meal from childhood. The truth is more complicated and more painful. Early Thanksgivings were bound up in colonization, displacement, and violence toward those who had cared for the land long before Europeans arrived. To give thanks with integrity means remembering this truth and acknowledging that blessing cannot be built on harm.
This season also prompts us to examine the way we shape public life. When a nation diverts funds from programs that serve the most vulnerable and redirects them to those who already have plenty, it betrays the spirit of the Beatitudes. Jesus blesses the poor, the hungry, and the meek—not those who hoard power and privilege. Honest gratitude cannot overlook this contradiction. Still, Thanksgiving can be more than a holiday. It can be a spiritual practice. Gratitude rooted in Jesus’ teaching is not sentimental; it is active. It joins justice to thanksgiving. It makes room at the table and listens to the cries of those left out. It appears that generosity, advocacy, and a willingness to live differently stem from our having received grace.
So, yes, I will bow my head over turkey and pie. I will give thanks for family, health, and work. But I will also let the Beatitudes disturb me. They remind me that blessing is not always comfort, that God’s favor rests with those the world overlooks, and that gratitude finds its fullest expression when it moves us to share.
That is the most accurate way to celebrate Thanksgiving: not with a table closed in on itself or stories polished to hide the pain, but with hearts open to truth and tables that stretch wider each year. When gratitude meets honesty, and thanksgiving joins justice, the feast becomes what Jesus called blessed.