Looking at lots of news, right now, I am not seeing stories about what is, for me, the most interesting angle of this unusual Thanksgiving.

It seems like American is divided into two warring clans — the “locked inside their home” Thanksgiving folks and the “damn the virus, full speed ahead” crowd.

There is, of course, another pandemic-season option, which is the one that my family and some people in our Orthodox parish will be trying. (If anyone is curious, the Orthodox here in America break our Nativity Lent fast on Thanksgiving — with the blessing of our bishops — so meat is back on the menu.)

Lots of us are being careful and will celebrate the main Thanksgiving feast with immediate family. Then, hours later, some will gather outdoors for what I am calling a “festival of leftovers.” People will bring their own turkey-ham sandwiches from home in baskets or bags. We won’t share food from different houses. Then we will have chips in individual-serving bags. Drinks will be in individual cans or bottles. Desserts will be packaged or boxed and we will use no common utensils.

Distanced seating will be on a deck, under a carport or all over the lawn (weather will be fine today here in East Tennessee). Guitars are encouraged. We will do everything we can to follow CDC guidelines.

I’m not arguing that this is a major news story, or anything like that. I don’t expect TV news crews.

I am saying that this is an example of a kind of third-way option during the pandemic-guidelines wars that have received so much ink.

It’s true that many churches are going online only. Then a few are rebelling against guidelines, period. Then there are the religious congregations that are quietly (in our case, following guidelines from our bishop) trying to do as much community life as they can, while following local and state rules. Yes, it does help if government leaders apply the same rules to religious groups as to similar institutions.

So rebelling is news. Got it.

So going to an online-only approach is news. Got it.

What about carrying on with life as much as possible, while following the rules? Is that a religion-beat story? Just asking.

While I am doing this mini-sermon, let me offer another glimpse into this year’s Thanksgiving, through the lens of my own religious tradition.

Thanksgiving is an American tradition, of course. Thus, there are no Orthodox traditions from other lands — think Greece, Russia, Jerusalem, Romania, Syria, etc. — to shape liturgy in this season.

However, the Orthodox in America have created a beautiful tradition linked to one of the most stunning, beautiful, encouraging litanies in our faith.

On the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, we gather — often in candle-lit sanctuaries — to sing the “The Akathist of Thanksgiving,” which is also known as “Glory to God for All Things.” (An “akathist” is a series of prayers and hymns in honor of a great saint, a holy season or one of the Persons of the Holy Trinity.)

This particular litany is linked to the martyrs of the great persecution of the Russian Church under Soviet Communism. There are many theories about the origins of these hymns, but this text was found in the personal effects of Father Gregory Petrov — who died in 1940 in a Russian Gulag.

Some say that It has been traced back to Metropolitan Tryphon, a spiritual father in Russia at the height of the persecution. Others say it was composed, in its present form, by Petrov just before his death. The title comes from the writings of the great St. John Chrysostom, as he was dying in exile.

Everyone agrees that this akathist was sung in the Gulags of Russia. It is a celebration of life, faith and the beauties of creation that has its roots in pain, suffering and persecution.

To be blunt, it adds a new, sobering perspective to life during a pandemic.

Here is a sample or two from this flowing series of hymns and prayers. Imagine the faith of the believers singing this in a cell in frozen Siberia:

Thou hast brought me into life as into an enchanted paradise. We have seen the sky like a chalice of deepest blue, wherein the azure heights the birds are singing. We have listened to the soothing murmur of the forest and the melodious music of the streams. We have tasted fruit of fine flavor and the sweet-scented honey. We can live very well on Thine earth. It is a pleasure to be Thy guest:

Glory to Thee for the Feast Day of life; glory to Thee for the perfume of lilies and roses.

Glory to Thee for each different taste of berry and fruit; glory to Thee for the sparkling silver of early morning dew.

Glory to Thee for the joy of dawn’s awakening; glory to Thee for the new life each day brings.

Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age!

Also this, in a death camp:

How near Thou art in the day of sickness. Thou Thyself visitest the sick; Thou Thyself bendest over the sufferer’s bed. His heart speaks to Thee. In the throes of sorrow and suffering Thou bringest peace and unexpected consolation. Thou art the comforter. Thou art the love which watcheth over and healeth us. To Thee we sing the song: Alleluia! …

Glory to Thee, satisfying my desires with good things; glory to Thee, watching over me day and night.

Glory to Thee, curing affliction and emptiness with the healing flow of time.

Glory to Thee, no loss is irreparable in Thee, Giver of eternal life to all.

Glory to Thee, making immortal all that is lofty and good.

Glory to Thee, promising us the longed-for meeting with our loved ones who have died.

Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age!

There is much, much more. Read it all, if you wish, on this most unusual day of Thanksgiving. Or listen to the recording post above.

MAIN IMAGE: Via @Gunaxin