“Gratitude… but Not Like This”

 

“Gratitude… but Not Like This”
Fr. Emilio Cabrera

Today our nation celebrates Thanksgiving—a day dedicated to gratitude, to family, and to recognizing God’s blessings. But I want to begin with something very honest, something that comes straight from pastoral reality:

This year, it is very hard to say “thank you.”
It is hard because our community is wounded.
It is hard because families have been torn apart—quinceañeras cancelled, children left without their parents in a single night.
It is hard because we have been witnessing brutal, disproportionate, and inhumane treatment of migrants here in Cheyenne.

And it is impossible—humanly impossible—to raise a prayer of gratitude without first weeping with those who are living in fear, in persecution, and in separation.

Yet, brothers and sisters… it is precisely here that the Scriptures and the true history of this holiday speak to us.

 

 The real origin of Thanksgiving: starving migrants and a merciful tribe

We have been told that Thanksgiving began as a friendly dinner between colonists and Native Americans.
But what we are not always told is that the Pilgrims were migrants—foreigners who arrived with no land, no rights, no language, no documents… and—just like many of you—they were starving.

Their first winter killed nearly half of them.
They were strangers, vulnerable, with nothing to survive on.
And they would have likely died…

were it not for the mercy of a Native tribe—the Wampanoag.

It was the people of this land who saw the suffering of these foreigners and said:

“We will help you. We will teach you how to plant, how to fish, how to live.”

It was this act of compassion toward vulnerable migrants that made the first Thanksgiving possible.
Not strict laws.
Not raids.
Not detentions or deportations.

It was mercy.

So I ask you, with my heart open before you:

Can we truly celebrate Thanksgiving while forgetting that this holiday was born from a gesture of mercy toward migrants?
Can we give thanks while our own brothers and sisters are being taken away from their families?

When understood honestly, this celebration does not invite us to close our eyes—
it invites us to open them.

 

Today’s readings speak directly into this moment

1. “May the Lord give us a joyful heart.” (Sirach 50)

Sirach proclaims:

“May the Lord give us a joyful heart… may He make peace reign… may we trust in His mercy.”

But true joy cannot grow in a society that humiliates, persecutes, and divides families.
Joy and peace are born only where mercy reigns.

2. “I thank my God for the grace given to you.” (1 Corinthians 1)

St. Paul gives thanks—but for what?
For the grace present in the community.

Here is the deepest truth:
Paul is not thankful for perfect circumstances.
He is thankful because, despite difficulties, Christ remains with His people—giving them strength, wisdom, perseverance, and faith.

Brothers and sisters:

Today we give thanks not because everything is fine—because it isn’t—
but because God continues to walk with His migrant people.

He does not abandon those who are persecuted.
He is not ashamed of those who live with fear.
He does not hide from those who cry out for justice.

As Paul said:

“God is faithful.”

3. The Grateful Samaritan (Luke 17:11–19)

And now the Gospel.

Jesus heals ten lepers…
but only one returns to give thanks.
And who is he?
A Samaritan. A foreigner. A marginalized one. A non-citizen.

The only one who comes back to thank God
is the one who knows what it means to live excluded.

Jesus does not praise the nine who felt entitled.
He praises the one whose gratitude rises out of vulnerability.

And Jesus tells him words we need to hear today:

“Your faith has saved you.”

Today, the face of the grateful Samaritan

is found in the families who, even under persecution, still come to Mass.
In the parents who still bring their children to catechism.
In the men and women who work, serve, cook, and help—even while afraid.
In every migrant who still trusts in God, even when the system seems not to trust in them.

 

How do we give thanks today?

Today we cannot simply say “thank you” as if nothing were happening.
We cannot pretend this holiday was born from patriotism or from a beautiful banquet.

Thanksgiving was born from a community that chose mercy toward starving migrants.

This country needs to remember that.
And so do we.

So today, if we are going to give thanks, let it be like this:

• Thank you, Lord, for sustaining the families who suffer.
• Thank you for those who show mercy when the law does not.
• Thank you for communities that open their hearts and their doors.
• Thank you for the faith of our migrant people, who do not give up.
• Thank you because You, God of Israel, God of the migrant, God of the displaced, never abandon Your people.

 

A true Thanksgiving

Today, Thanksgiving cannot be a table full of food while our brothers and sisters are being taken away in vans, uncertain if they will ever see their children again.
That is not Thanksgiving.
That does not honor its origin.
That does not honor God.

But there is one thing we can do:

Turn this day into an act of solidarity, prayer, memory, unity, and defense of human dignity.

Be like the Wampanoag.
Be like the Samaritan.
Be like Jesus.

Then we will be able to say, in truth:

“I will bless the Lord forever.”
Because He continues to do wonders among His people, even in the midst of pain.