" .. . give us this day our daily bread ..."

    Grandma looks around the house and can't help but smile. Her home is as full as her heart today. It's Thanksgiving Day, and the children and grandchildren are all at her house to celebrate. The day begins with the hustle and bustle of people arriving, cooking, and setting the table. Her son and daughter renew the old arguments of their teenage years, this time with the warm smiles of memory instead of the bitterness of before. The ladies are in the kitchen checking and rechecking all the dishes. The men are on the couch watching the Lions play football. The grandchildren have found an old football and headed outside to throw it around. Each group is doing its own thing. 

    Until the food starts moving to the table. Jack, the youngest, takes a break from the game, comes inside, and notices the potatoes, dressing, and rolls heading for the dining room. He flings open the door. "Hey guys! We're gonna eat!" he yells to his cousins. Everyone hurries to find a chair. 

    And that's when it happens. Three generations come to the same table at the same time to share a meal. The television clicks off. Phones go into pockets. Eighty-something Grandma sits next to five-year-old Jack. Jack talks non-stop about everything kindergarteners love to talk about, and Grandma soaks up every detail, every moment, thanking God for daily bread. 

    It may seem odd to call a Thanksgiving feast "daily bread." But look at Luther's explanation of the Fourth Petition and you'll find many of the things we celebrate on Thanksgiving. "Food and drink" are there, of course, but there's more. "A devout husband or wife, devout children" are on the list. Family is a gift from God, to be sure. So are "good friends, faithful neighbors." In this petition we don't only ask for food for today. We also ask for people to share it with. We were created for community. 

    That's what "Bridging the Gap" is about here at Mt. Calvary. Like Grandma's house before dinner, a congregation can drift into separate rooms: the older generation in one, the younger in another, each doing its own thing. Screens aren't the enemy. We use them every week to share God's Word with people who might never otherwise hear it. But a screen is only a doorway. Our favorite TV star doesn't know we exist, and an online celebrity won't answer our messages. The people we gather with in the Divine Service will listen, laugh, and pray with us. 

    Here's one place to pull up a chair. Starting Sunday, November 22, our Adult Bible Study will help write the Advent sermons. Each week we'll open the next Sunday's text together, beginning with Isaiah 64: "We are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand ... we are all your people." Bring your questions and your stories. Eighty-somethings and twenty-somethings alike, I want to hear from you. 

    And there's an even better Thanksgiving table waiting for us. The early church called the Lord's Supper the Eucharist, from the Greek word for "giving thanks." So set down the remote, put the phone in your pocket, and come. Kneel with eighty-year-olds and kindergartners side by side at the same altar. Feast on something far better than turkey and mashed potatoes: the body and blood of your Savior, Jesus Christ, given for the forgiveness of your sins and the hope of everlasting life. "Taste and see that the Lord is good" (Ps. 34:8), for "his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations" (Ps.100:5). 

In Christ,

Pastor Tom Vanderbilt