When our children were young, they begged to invite “Indians” for Thanksgiving dinner. After all the paper costumes of “Pilgrims” and “Indians” they had made at school in those days, it was clear who intrigued them most. So we often sought to invite someone new to our house, someone who was an outsider for us. It was a time to reach out and be blessed by one who was Other.
One year
our “Indians” were the family of a physician who had been shut out of the
medical referral system by other doctors.
In the early days of the HIV/AIDS pandemic, his office became virtually
a free clinic for those who needed his care.
Such generosity can make one a pariah at times. Who would have imagined a physician as an
outcast?
Early in
our days in Northern Virginia, we welcomed the
Pakistani family who had just found their way to St. Barnabas’. They shivered in the cold of our climate and
the rejoiced when we honored the birthday of the youngest child with candles on
the pumpkin pie. At the same dinner, we
also included the retired dean of the Cathedral of St. John the Divine and his
wife, living in temporary quarters at the theological seminary without family
to share the day. It was he who remarked
about St. Barnabas’, “You don’t have to cross the globe to do missions. The world has come to you.” He also sent checks to my discretionary fund
and continued to inquire about his new friends in Christ.
I used to
ask new immigrants to this country what foods they were preparing for this
holiday—expecting a touch of Mexico,
India, or Ethiopia. Over and over again I watched a new American
beam with pride, listing turkey and all the trimmings. I have always loved Thanksgiving because it
is all about food. Now my neighbors have
given new reasons for gratitude. These pilgrims
from distant lands have broken down our categories of “Pilgrim” and “Indian,”
our notions of who came first, our notions of Otherness. They have given yet more reasons to give
thanks.
It is my
hope that this time of Thanksgiving may also become a time to cease to be
Other. As people of many faiths and many
origins, may we sit down to a meal where our grateful hearts can make us one.
The Rev. Linda Wofford Hawkins
Rector.
