No one knows exactly where or when he was born. Many of the details of his life have been obscured by time. The few stories that remain are reported differently by various authors. But by all accounts, his actions were significant.
Tisquantum was born in the late 1500s in what we now call New England. A man who intended to sell him and several other companions into slavery kidnapped him and took him to Europe. There Tisquantum was rescued from that fate, learned the English language, and eventually made his way back to this continent. Upon his return, he found that disease—likely tuberculosis, smallpox, or both—brought by European explorers and traders had destroyed his entire village. Leaving the empty homes and fields behind, he took up residence with others of his Pokanoket nation.
When the Mayflower arrived in November of 1620, it carried just over a hundred Pilgrims who were ill prepared and ill equipped to survive the harsh winter. Many continued to live on the ship through the fall and into the winter, commuting to land to construct homes and other buildings. Close to half of the group died in the following months.
During their final move ashore in March, a man named Samoset, who had learned a few words of English during earlier trade contact, surprised the survivors by walking into their community and greeting them in English. Samoset introduced them to Tisquantum, who quite possibly saved the lives of the remaining Pilgrims. He taught them desperately needed lessons about life in the new world, about local foods and medicinal plants, and served as an intermediary in establishing trade relationships.
By the fall of 1621, the survivors had accumulated the food and skills required to survive the coming winter, and held a feast to celebrate, inviting Tisquantum and his family to attend. Apparently they didn’t realize the meaning of “family” to the Pokanoket people, and were overwhelmed at the arrival of a group of guests that far outnumbered the hosts. Fortunately, their Pokanoket guests had the skills and resources to supplement the food provided by the Pilgrims, and by some accounts even provided most of the feast.
Histories of our country’s Thanksgiving holiday usually appeal to this feast as inspiration. Tisquantum is often called by the shorter name, “Squanto”.
These fragments are only a small part of a larger story with many sad moments. As a man between two worlds, Tisquantum was regarded with mistrust by both sides, and eventually died under suspicious circumstances. Not many years after the feast of 1621, hostilities and violence resumed between the two groups, and the rest, as the saying goes, is history.
But for one beautiful moment, there were peace and unity and giving and eating together. It is sad that the spirit of that moment was ignored so often in following years.
The Thanksgiving season has come again. Feasting, giving food, and giving thanks are again the order of the day. But there are other connections between the events just described and the table before us in this time of worship.
Jesus arrived at his time of service through humility; “emptying himself, he took the form of a servant.” Jesus brought desperately needed lessons on how to live, but was repaid first with suspicion, and finally with rejection, by the ones he served. He lives as the intermediary who reconciled us to the Father.
It is pointless to speculate what Tisquantum would have done if he could have foreseen the consequences of saving the lives of the Pilgrims. Unlike Tisquantum, Jesus knew what would happen, and still he willingly came, willingly taught and served, and even willingly died, to rescue us from sin and death. And when we stumble and fall flat on our faces, this table still stands as a witness to what he did. None of us is worthy of that gift, of this feast. But in this beautiful moment we are invited to peace and unity and giving and eating together.
As in the feast of 1621, we may imagine ourselves as hosts inviting Jesus and his family into our midst. But we find that our meager provisions, this little bit of bread, these few drops of the blood of the grape, and even we ourselves, are completely inadequate. And yet our gracious guest becomes the host, providing all that we need to make this a joyful and bountiful feast.
