And in spite of the American insistence on separating church and state, George Washington made sure that the national conscience would not forget thanksgiving. The Thanksgiving Proclamation of 1789 declared that 'Thursday the 26th day of November next … be devoted by the People of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being, who is the beneficent Author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be—That we may then all unite in rendering unto him our sincere and humble thanks—for his kind care and protection of the People of this Country.'
It has ever been thus. By contrast, the United Kingdom, who gave America the pilgrim fathers in the first place, has largely ejected the notion of thanksgiving, just as it ejected the pilgrims themselves. The reason is not hard to find; thanksgiving, after all, implies dependence, dependence implies a giver, and a giver implies God. For our modern world, that is just a step too far.
Thanksgiving is one of the great themes of the Bible. Specific offerings were to be offered to the Lord as thanksgiving offerings. David appointed Asaph and his brothers to sing thanksgivings in the Temple worship. His own compositions breathe that spirit: 'Oh give thanks to the Lord; call upon his name; make known his deeds among the peoples! … Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; for his steadfast love endures forever!'
Significantly, Jesus gave thanks to God at crucial moments: prior to feeding the five thousand, for example, and prior to distributing the bread at the Lord's Supper. For the apostle Paul, thanksgiving is at the heart of religion. It is the answer to anxiety; his advice is, 'do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.'
Paul encourages the believers in Thessalonica to 'give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you', and he insists to Timothy that 'everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving'. Ultimately, it is what fuels the praise of heaven, as saints sing, 'We give thanks to you, Lord God Almighty, who is and who was, for you have taken your great power and begun to reign.'
The Bible is insistent that this is a fitting and an appropriate expression of our gratitude. After all, as it reminds us, we came into the world with nothing, and shall leave it with nothing. In the meantime, God 'richly provides us with everything to enjoy', and it is only right that we should express our thanks to him.
Sadly, however, Harvest Thanksgiving is one of the least appreciated points on our religious calendar. In the mists of time, when I was young, our harvest thanksgiving was marked by a local holiday and a church service. The Thanksgiving holiday was a delicious treat just approaching Christmas; the morning service was never too long, and the rest of the day was free. It was never Thanksgiving on an American scale, but it was significant nonetheless: at least it reminded us that we really ought to be grateful for all we have.
I now feel that we make far too little of Thanksgiving. Our secular society just ignores it; and even Lewis society has begun the habit of disappearing to Inverness on Thanksgiving holiday to stock up for Christmas. Isn't it interesting how we abuse one Christian festival at the expense of another? We want the holidays, but we no longer appreciate what they were designed to do.
The result is that the very season that ought to be an expression of our gratitude to God becomes an opportunity for us to rake in even more material things. It's a plague with which we are all infected; and the words of Christ will come to haunt our generation: 'Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?'
But when all of this is said and done, what about our church services? I recently worshipped in a small Anglican church at a Harvest Service. There was much about it that left me decidedly uncomfortable, but the heaps of food at the altar were at least an expression of something: a recognition of the bounty of the Creator, and of our need to share with others.
Why can't we have more of this? Tear Fund are trying to encourage Christians to think about the world's poor this month. Jesus reminded us that we have the poor with us always. Can we not double our efforts to channel our resources into helping those who are in poverty? Much has been given to us; much shall consequently be required of us.
It was in covenant with Noah that God promised that seedtime and harvest would never fail. Some parts of the world are undoubtedly worse off than others, but there is still enough to satisfy the needs of all who live. It's a matter of stewardship, of overcoming corruption, and of working towards a more just society.
But we cannot simply congratulate ourselves on how magnanimous we are as the benefactors of others. It's relatively easy to part with some of our money as long as we have plenty left. And ultimately, it's an interesting question as to whether there is such thing as a disinterested benefactor among us.
For that reason, it remains a great mystery to me that we can give to Children in Need so generously, yet not stop to thank God that we have anything to give away at all.