We thank the spirit, and we thank the great creative, transformative force that brings life into being, sustains life and receives us in death.

We also honor both the spirits of the land, and the ancestors, which makes Thanksgiving a bittersweet time. For at this time we remember the brave and determined folks who endured extreme hardships to found our proud tradition of religious freedom—something we Pagans hold dear as it protects our right to practice a tradition that is often misunderstood and persecuted.

But we must also remember the people they displaced, the indigenous tribes who have their own strong traditions of giving thanks.The Pilgrims landed on a shore whose villages were emptied by plagues that came from earlier contacts with Europeans. The landscape which they perceived as empty wilderness, had actually been carefully tended and managed for generations to produce a bounty of food, resources, and biodiversity, so much of which is now gone.

The turkey, corn, tomatoes, sweet potatoes, squash, pumpkins, and chocolate on our tables are bequests from the first peoples of this continent. The constitution which protects our rights was modeled on the checks and balances in the government of the Iroquois Confederacy. May we offer our thanks by committing ourselves to tend and care for the land, and respecting their descendents’ rights and claims for justice.

This year I’m also thinking about the empty chairs, the families whose sons and daughters will not come home from Iraq, the hundreds of thousands of families in that land who are left bereaved, shattered, homeless. If we have good fortune this year, if we sit down to a table surrounded by our loved ones, may our gratitude deepen our commitment to end the violence of war and wage peace.