Thanksgiving

O God of God, O Light of Light, O very God of very God, toward You I cast my mind as the tempest casts waves from the sea. Like breakers upon ancient crags do my small thoughts dash against You and fall back into themselves. In You I find—and fail to fathom—height above height and depth beyond depth, eternal and incomprehensible.

Lover of my soul, You veil Yourself from prying eyes. You hide Yourself from the curious and You rebuff the inquisitive. You hold Your radiance as a precious treasure, not as merchandise to satisfy faithless seekers who peer into the transcendent.

O Alpha and Omega, O Uncreated One, O First and Last: You are the only-begotten Son, of one substance with the Father, begotten before all worlds, begotten but not made. You made all things, both visible and invisible, whether things in heaven, or things on the earth, or things under the earth, whether thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers. By You all things consist, for You uphold all things by the word of Your power. You are before them all, and they all are by You and for You and in You.

Divine Poet, creation is Your stanza. Though You are altogether above the things that You have made, yet through Your handiwork You disclose Yourself. In the created world have You shown Yourself. By it do we clearly see invisible mysteries. Throughout Your poem have You spoken a message of eternal power and Godhead. The very skies declare Your praise to every eye. Day speaks to day and night whispers to night, and no ear is deaf to their voice.

Let the whole creation sing to Your glory! Let the fowls of the air and the fishes of the sea, the beasts of the field and the trees of the forest cry out Your praises! Let the sea roar and the fields rejoice in Your presence! Let the mountains tremble at Your majesty and the heavens be afraid under Your dominion!

There is no question about it—Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, bar none.

The mere word warms my heart and causes my mind to click through the memories of Novembers long past. It conjures up images of family and dear friends—some now departed— gathered around a bountiful table; of special services at church and shortened weeks of school; of singing grand old hymns which we re-learn usually just once every year; and, most importantly, of giving thanks to God for bringing us safely through another season of life.

Thanksgiving is almost the only holiday which has yet to be hi-jacked by secular or commercial forces. Think of it—the closest that retailers get to this celebration is speaking of the day which follows it, or perhaps dressing in supposed 17th century garb to film silly commercials.

Thanksgiving has also not really been corrupted by worldliness. Few seem to talk about getting drunk for Thanksgiving Day or staying out all night beforehand.

Somehow Thanksgiving—both the day and the action—seems to have a calming effect within our souls. Celebrating it helps us draw a mental line between the cares of the old year and the onset of the new one, while preparing us to remember the birth of Christ in the meantime.

O Father of lights, with Whom is neither variableness nor shadow of turning, from Your hand receive we every gift, each one good and perfect. Naught have we of our own; nothing do we possess that we were not given. Our open hands know not for what they grasp, but discover themselves filled with goodness and blessing from Your bounty.

by Brian McCrorie