Thanksgiving is America's favorite holiday because it's a time

In the words of David Ignatius, we are given a reflection that joins the past with the present: “Thanksgiving is America’s favorite holiday because it’s a time when we put aside our cares, much as the struggling Pilgrims did nearly four centuries ago, and eat a gut-busting meal without worrying about the ‘out years.’” Though spoken with humor, these words carry an ancient weight. They remind us that the true purpose of a feast is not simply to eat, but to rest from labor, to pause from worry, and to rejoice in the blessings of the present moment.

The first wisdom here lies in the idea of putting aside our cares. In every age, men and women are haunted by what lies ahead—the debt to be paid, the crops of next year, the uncertain fate of tomorrow. Yet Ignatius recalls the example of the Pilgrims, who, though burdened with hunger, disease, and the harshness of a new land, chose to stop and give thanks. They knew that life would not suddenly grow easy after the feast; the trials of the “out years” remained. But for one sacred day, they chose gratitude over fear, fellowship over despair.

History testifies to this moment. In the year 1621, after a brutal winter that claimed nearly half their number, the Pilgrims gathered with their Native American allies for a harvest feast. They had little compared to our abundance, yet what they had was transformed into joy by the act of sharing it together. In that gathering was born not just a meal, but a way of seeing life: that gratitude is not reserved for the end of hardship, but is itself the strength that carries us through it. Ignatius calls us to remember this heritage, to find in our feasts the same spirit of resilience.

The mention of a gut-busting meal is no accident. It reminds us that joy is not only spiritual but also physical. The breaking of bread, the savoring of meat, the fullness of the body—all these are symbols of life overflowing. To eat in abundance, without glancing anxiously at the ledger of tomorrow, is to experience, if only for a day, the freedom of the soul. It is a sacred act, not because of the food itself, but because it declares: “We are alive today, and that is enough.”

The wisdom of this feast is echoed in other traditions. The Hebrews, after escaping bondage, held the Passover to remember deliverance. The Romans, after harvest, celebrated their Saturnalia with laughter and plenty. In each case, the feast was a defiance of worry, a declaration that life is more than labor. To gather for Thanksgiving is to stand in the same stream of history, choosing joy over anxiety, presence over absence, and gratitude over fear of the future.

The lesson for us is this: let not your life be consumed by the dread of the “out years.” The future will come whether you fear it or not. But gratitude, lived today, strengthens the heart to endure whatever storms lie ahead. Do not despise the feast as indulgence—it is medicine for the soul. When you stop to give thanks, you declare that life is already full, that you are already blessed, and that tomorrow can wait.

Practical wisdom follows. When the day of Thanksgiving comes, do not rush through it, nor fill it with distraction. Sit at the table with reverence. Look into the faces of those around you. Taste the food with awareness, as though each bite were the fruit of centuries of labor and hope. And above all, let your heart be free of tomorrow’s burdens, for this day belongs to gratitude alone.

Thus, the words of David Ignatius carry forward the spirit of the Pilgrims, reminding us that in feasting, we find not only nourishment for the body but renewal for the soul. To put aside our cares, to eat and to give thanks, is not escape—it is courage. For in choosing joy today, we gather the strength to face the “out years” with hope and with peace.