There's simply no reason for us to have Thanksgiving when the whole point of the holiday is to gather. At the end of the day, it's just a meal.
The Separatists, who had suffered religious persecution because of their beef with the Church of England and their lower socio-economic standing, plus various others—mainly farmers whose way of life was being eroded by the early stages of industrialization—wishing to leave England for a new start in Jamestown colony, all expected to sail across the Atlantic to a company town on a pair of ships. One of those ships was quickly determined to be unfit for the voyage, so it turned around and never sailed again, soon afterward being demolished. Thus, more than 100 folks spent the next couple of months in a space about the size of a volleyball court. With a diet of dried meat, dried peas, and salted fish, several of them developed scurvy. Encountering severe weather while approaching America, they ended up quite a ways off course without much chance of making it to Jamestown. After a few failed attempts at locating a place to harbor around Cape Cod Bay, they eventually found a suitable place with fresh water available, set anchor, and went ashore.
It was now December, and there was no time to build proper housing structures. Instead, this group of "saints and sinners" all shared the same dugout/lean-to for the winter. After having spent the voyage not wanting much to do with each other, the two groups soon found it necessary to get over their differences. A leader was elected, and he kept getting elected every time there was a vote for years to come. With many in ill health from the journey and foodstuff scarce, death came to many. Several diseases spread, one of which was perhaps a yet-unnamed influenza. At one point, there were only seven able-bodied men well enough to dig graves. The alternative to sharing this inadequate, cramped space full of sick people was to spend the winter outdoors in the New England winter—not really an alternative, of course. By the end of winter, roughly half the people had died.
Meanwhile, the company ship remained anchored offshore all winter long, not being able to return till spring, with the crew living halfway comfortably onboard. When spring finally arrived, the opportunity presented itself for people to give up and return home. Many had lost wives, husbands. British fishing techniques didn't work in the new land. Oats didn't grow here. Prospects were bleak. And yet not a single one of them decided to return to England on the Mayflower. For all of them, freedom and a new start in life were worth all the hardships, were worth facing illness and even death.
By a series of seemingly miraculous turns of events, they were greeted by a handful of Natives willing to help the newcomers make a living here—not least of whom was an ex-slave who had already converted to Christianity in Europe and learned English well enough to communicate. They learned to make fishing nets, fertilize hills of Indian corn, etc. Against the odds, the harvest that year yielded enough surplus for them to hold a festival of thanksgiving. The Natives, having killed and brought five deer to the feast, made up more than half of those in attendance. There had been much sorrow during the previous year, much apprehension, much strife, much sickness, much death. Prudent, perhaps, would have been to stockpile what surplus could be stockpiled, and forego such a harvest festival. Yet they determined that it was necessary to have a celebration. They determined to thank God for his blessings, to share with one another, to find joy amidst the tears.
The point of the holiday is not simply "to gather". At the end of the day, it isn't "just a meal". This year more than any previously, I find good reason to gather with my loved ones and kindle a flame of thankfulness. Many of us find ourselves in a season of unease, apprehension, peril, and fear. Some of us have friends and family who have fallen ill, or whom we fear will soon fall ill. Prudent, perhaps, would be to forego the festivities and hunker down in our own huts. But that's not what I intend to do. I intend to celebrate life even in the face of calamity.
