This sermon was offered at AAIC’s Interfaith Thanksgiving Service, on November 22, 20225.

Before we begin, I would like to take a moment to honor the land on which we gather.

These are the ancestral home of the Massachusett people, within the wider Wampanoag Nation.

As we join together today — from many different faiths, cultures, and traditions — we recognize that each of our paths invites us into gratitude, justice, and right relationship. That’s why we include this acknowledgement: to remember the stories that came before us and to honor the Indigenous communities whose care and stewardship shaped this land.

May this moment inspire us to learn more, to act with compassion, and to stand in solidarity with Indigenous communities as we work for justice and equity together.

So, as we gather this Thanksgiving season, we come not to ignore the complexities of history or to gloss over the truths of colonialism and exclusion, but to reclaim this moment as an opportunity to center gratitude — real, rooted gratitude — for what is possible when we live into the fullness of our shared humanity.

There is a quintessential image that many of us carry when we think of Thanksgiving: a long table, filled with food, a cornucopia overflowing with harvest, family gathered around, laughter echoing. For some, sure – it’s a warm memory. For others, that table may feel like a place they’ve never quite belonged. Maybe it is a time that reminds some of yearly arguments, political disagreements or simply unavoidable, uncomfortable gatherings. For some, like many of our indigenous siblings, that table is a lie.

Today, I want to speak about a different kind of table. A table wide enough, strong enough, brave enough to hold the beauty and complexity of a community like ours — a community made up of people from many religious traditions and spiritual paths, different races and cultures, varied economic experiences, gender identities, sexual orientations, and family stories.

A table that doesn’t require sameness, but makes room for difference.

A table that doesn’t demand assimilation, but invites authenticity.

A table where no one has to shrink.

A table where wholeness is welcome.

This, to me, is the spiritual heart of gratitude — not simply saying “thank you” for what we like or for what feels comfortable — but giving thanks for the whole of it. For the miracle of this living, breathing, diverse community where we don’t all have to believe the same, look the same, or love the same to belong.

So today, I give thanks in particular for the Attleboro Area Interfaith Collaborative and each one of you who makes the work of AAIC possible. For your unwavering commitment to building just such a table in our city and the neighboring towns. Through our mighty network of houses of worship, each with its own tradition and sacred wisdom, AAIC has created a model of what interfaith community can look like — not only in prayer, but in practice. Our Food & Friends program, the work that is done in food chaplaincy, and its ongoing commitment to feeding the hungry are more than acts of service — these are sacred expressions of love and solidarity. Every hot meal shared, every kind word offered, every volunteer who shows up with open hands and generous hearts: these are holy acts of gratitude in motion. Because here’s the truth: Gratitude deepens when it meets justice:

When we honor the many Indigenous nations whose lands we now inhabit (like we did before I began).

When we recognize that not everyone comes to the table with the same resources.

When we hold space for those navigating grief during a season that emphasizes cheer.

When we practice solidarity — not just charity.

That’s when thanksgiving becomes something holy.

I’m grateful for this community. For the way you show up for one another. For how you choose connection over comfort, and growth over certainty.

I’m grateful for AAIC and the many hands that make its ministry possible. I’m grateful that in a world that so often divides, you, we are choosing to be a people of welcome.

And so I invite you — this season and always — to reflect not just on what you’re thankful for, but on who you’re thankful with. To see every meal shared, every story heard, every boundary broadened, is an act of sacred resistance against a world that too often tells us to fear one another.

In closing:

Let us build a table big enough for the full human family.

Let us continue to give thanks not just with our words, but with our service.

And let us remember that true gratitude is not passive — it is active, liberating, and deeply communal.

May Thanksgiving begin with us.

May it be so. Shanti.

Rumni Saha is the Interfaith Chaplain at AAIC. Rumni describes her faith tradition as Hindu, Unitarian Universalist, and a Religious Humanist. She holds a Master of Divinity from Boston University’s School of Theology and a Master of Education, also from Boston University. Ms. Saha has worked as an Interfaith Chaplain at several Dana-Farber sites and is currently a College Chaplain and the Hindu as well as the Unitarian Universalist Community Coordinator at Wellesley College. As the Interfaith Chaplain, Rumni provides spiritual care at Sturdy Hospital, does community chaplaincy, and engages in interfaith work.