Hello, and welcome back to Nations 4 Jesus. As we gather around tables this Thanksgiving to celebrate with family and friends, eating turkey and pumpkin pie, I want to share a story with you that connects three powerful themes: the true story of the first Thanksgiving, the reality of persecution and suffering, and the sovereignty of God in using even our darkest moments for His purposes.
Most of us know the basic story of the Pilgrims and the first Thanksgiving. But what we often don't know is the remarkable story of Squanto—the Native American who saved the Pilgrims from starvation. His story is one of kidnapping, slavery, loss, and heartbreak. Yet through it all, God was orchestrating something beautiful. And his story has profound lessons for us today, especially as we think about our persecuted brothers and sisters around the world.
Let me take you back to around 1608, more than a decade before the Pilgrims arrived in America. A group of English traders sailed to what is today Plymouth, Massachusetts. When the trusting Wampanoag native Americans came out to trade with them, the traders betrayed that trust. They took them prisoner, transported them across the ocean to Spain, and sold them into slavery. It was an unimaginable horror.
Can you imagine? One moment you're living peacefully with your family and tribe. The next moment, you're chained in the hold of a ship, being transported thousands of miles away to be sold as property. Everything you've ever known—your family, your home, your freedom—stolen in an instant. Among those captured was a boy named Squanto.
Now, as we hear this story, we might be tempted to ask the same question that people throughout history have asked when faced with suffering: "Where is God in this? How could a good God allow such evil?" But as we'll see, God had an amazing plan for this young man—a plan that would unfold over more than a decade of exile and suffering.
Squanto was bought by a Spanish monk—a well-meaning man who treated him well and taught him the Christian faith. Think about that! In the midst of the injustice and horror of slavery, God placed Squanto in the hands of someone who would introduce him to Jesus Christ. In his darkest hour, Squanto encountered the Light of the World.
This reminds me of what we see with persecuted Christians around the world today. Quite often believers are kidnapped, imprisoned, and sold into slavery for their faith. Yet even in those dark places, God meets them. Even in prison cells and labor camps, His presence sustains them. And often, their testimony in the midst of suffering becomes the very thing that brings others to Christ.
Squanto learned about Jesus not in freedom, but in captivity. He discovered hope not in comfort, but in the depths of despair. And that faith would sustain him through the long years ahead.
Eventually, Squanto made his way to England, where he worked in the stables of a man named John Slaney. Slaney sympathized with Squanto's desire to return home, and he promised to put him on the first vessel bound for America. But finding passage wasn't easy. It wasn't until 1619—ten years after Squanto was first kidnapped—that a ship was found.
Ten years! Think about what Squanto endured during that decade. The grief of being torn from his family. The humiliation of slavery. The loneliness of being the only one of his people in a foreign land. The seemingly endless wait to return home. Yet God was using those years to prepare Squanto for something he couldn't yet see.
During those years, Squanto learned English fluently. He learned about European culture, customs, and agricultural practices. He learned skills that would have seemed completely irrelevant to his old life as a Wampanoag. But God was equipping him for a specific purpose—one that wouldn't become clear until much later.
Finally, after a decade of exile and heartbreak, Squanto was on his way home. Can you imagine his excitement? After ten years of captivity and longing, he was finally returning to his village, his tribe, his family. He would see his mother and father again. He would embrace his brothers and sisters. He would be home.
But when he arrived in Massachusetts, more heartbreak awaited him. An epidemic—likely brought by European traders—had wiped out Squanto's entire village. Everyone he had known and loved was dead. The home he had dreamed about for ten years no longer existed.
We can only imagine what must have gone through Squanto's mind. Why had God allowed him to survive slavery? Why had God preserved his life through a decade of exile? Why had God brought him home against all odds, only to find his loved ones dead and his village empty? Where was God's purpose in all this suffering?
A year later, the answer came. A shipload of English families arrived and settled on the very land once occupied by Squanto's people. These were the Pilgrims—religious refugees who had fled persecution in England, seeking freedom to worship God according to their conscience. They arrived in November 1620, completely unprepared for the harsh New England winter.
That first winter was devastating. Nearly half the Pilgrims died from cold, disease, and starvation. They had no idea how to survive in this new land. They didn't know what crops to plant, where to fish, how to hunt. They were dying, and without help, the entire colony might have perished.
Then, in the spring of 1621, a Native American walked into their settlement. And he greeted them in English. The startled Pilgrims could hardly believe it. Here, in the wilderness of the New World, was a Native American who spoke their language!
According to the diary of Pilgrim Governor William Bradford, Squanto "became a special instrument sent of God for [our] good." Bradford wrote that Squanto "showed [us] how to plant [our] corn, where to take fish and to procure other commodities . . . and was also [our] pilot to bring [us] to unknown places for [our] profit, and never left [us] till he died."
Squanto taught them to plant corn using fish as fertilizer. He showed them where to hunt and fish. He served as interpreter and diplomat with other tribes. He guided them to profitable trading locations. Without Squanto, the Pilgrim colony would have failed. Every American who traces their ancestry to those Pilgrims owes their existence to this one Native American man.
But here's what moves me most: Squanto didn't help the Pilgrims out of obligation or for personal gain. He helped them because he had encountered Jesus Christ during his years of suffering, and his faith compelled him to serve these strangers with love. The Gospel he learned in captivity bore fruit in freedom.
When Squanto lay dying of fever in 1622, Bradford wrote that their friend "desir[ed] the Governor to pray for him, that he might go to the Englishmen's God in heaven." Even in death, Squanto's faith in Christ was evident. He bequeathed his possessions to the Pilgrims "as remembrances of his love."
Think about what Squanto gave up. He could have been bitter toward all Europeans after being kidnapped and enslaved. He could have refused to help the Pilgrims, letting them die as his own people had died. He could have seen them as enemies. Instead, he saw them as people God had brought to him so he could serve them—so he could be God's instrument for their good.
This story is remarkably similar to the biblical story of Joseph. Joseph was sold into slavery by his own brothers. He was falsely accused and imprisoned. He spent years in an Egyptian dungeon, seemingly forgotten. But God was preparing him to save not just his family, but entire nations from starvation.
When Joseph finally revealed himself to his brothers, he told them, "You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives" (Genesis 50:20). Squanto could have said the same thing. English traders intended to harm him, but God intended it for good—to save the lives of the Pilgrims and establish a colony that would become a haven for religious freedom.
Now, how does this connect to the persecuted church today? In profound ways! Right now, millions of Christians around the world are suffering for their faith. They're being kidnapped, imprisoned, enslaved, tortured, and killed. Like Squanto, they're experiencing unimaginable horrors. Like Squanto, they might be asking, "Where is God in this suffering?"
But here's what we've learned from studying persecution: God is sovereignly using the suffering of His people for purposes we can't always see in the moment. The blood of the martyrs has always been the seed of the Church. Persecution doesn't stop the Gospel—it spreads it!
Today, there are modern-day Squantos all over the world. North Korean refugees who escaped brutal persecution and now minister to other refugees, sharing the Gospel they learned in suffering. Chinese believers who were imprisoned for their faith and now lead underground church networks. Iranian converts who faced rejection and danger for leaving Islam and now boldly evangelize other Muslims.
God is taking people who've experienced the darkest persecution and using them as "special instruments sent of God" to reach others. Their suffering isn't wasted. Their pain has purpose. And often, they're able to reach people that comfortable Western Christians never could.
And here's what's remarkable: Many persecuted Christians express profound thankfulness even in the midst of suffering. They thank God for the privilege of suffering for Christ. They thank Him for the opportunity to witness through their persecution. They thank Him that they were counted worthy to suffer for His name.
In our episode about Afghanistan, we talked about believers there who risk everything to follow Jesus. Despite persecution, despite danger, despite loss—they're thankful for knowing Christ. They echo Paul's words in Philippians 3:8: "I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord."
This Thanksgiving, while we're sitting around comfortable tables with abundant food, there are believers around the world sitting in prison cells, thanking God for His presence with them. There are families who've lost everything for Christ, yet thanking God for the treasure they have in Jesus. Their thankfulness in suffering should challenge our complaining in comfort.
So what should we be thankful for this Thanksgiving? Yes, we can be grateful for food, family, freedom, and all the material blessings we enjoy. But the story of Squanto reminds us to be thankful for deeper things.
Be thankful that God is sovereign over even the worst suffering and can use it for His purposes. Be thankful that no persecution, no kidnapping, no loss can separate us from God's love and His plan. Be thankful for the privilege of knowing Christ—a privilege Squanto discovered in slavery and that millions of persecuted believers cling to today.
Be thankful for the persecuted church, whose suffering is advancing the Gospel in the hardest places. Be thankful that God is using their witness to bring people to Christ who might never hear otherwise. And be thankful that we live in a country where we can worship freely—a freedom that began with those Pilgrims who were saved by Squanto who had encountered Jesus in his darkest hour.
Let me give you five practical ways to respond to Squanto's story and connect it to the persecuted church this Thanksgiving. First, at your Thanksgiving meal, share Squanto's story with your family. Help your children understand that the first Thanksgiving was made possible by a Native American who came to faith through suffering and slavery. Teach them that God uses even the worst evil for His good purposes.
Second, pray for persecuted Christians by name this Thanksgiving. Go to persecution.com or opendoorsusa.org and get specific names of imprisoned believers. Pray for them at your Thanksgiving table. Remember them as Hebrews 13:3 commands: "as if you yourselves were suffering." Third, give financially to support the persecuted church. Instead of buying more things you don't need this holiday season, give to Voice of the Martyrs, Open Doors or a ministry I know personally, Remember Those, or other organizations serving persecuted believers.
Fourth, teach your children to be thankful for their freedom to worship—and to use that freedom to pray for those who don't have it. Help them understand that freedom isn't guaranteed and should never be taken for granted. And fifth, ask God to show you if He wants to use your past suffering—whatever it may be—as preparation for future purpose. Maybe, like Squanto and Joseph, you've experienced things that seemed meaningless or cruel. Ask God to reveal how He might use those experiences to help others.
Here's the bigger picture: God is always working—even when we can't see it, even when it doesn't make sense, even when we're in the darkest valley. Squanto couldn't see God's purpose during his decade of slavery. Joseph couldn't see it during his years in prison. Persecuted believers today might not see it as they suffer for Christ.
But God sees. God knows. And God is sovereignly orchestrating every event—even the evil ones—toward His ultimate purpose: the salvation of people from every tribe, tongue, and nation. Romans 8:28 promises that "in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."
That doesn't mean all things are good—slavery isn't good, persecution isn't good, kidnapping isn't good. But it means God can take even the worst evil and weave it into His redemptive purposes. That's exactly what He did with Squanto. That's what He did with Joseph. That's what He's doing with persecuted Christians today. And that's what He can do with your suffering too.
Let me pray: Lord, thank You for Squanto's story and what it teaches us about Your sovereignty. Thank You that no suffering is wasted in Your economy. Thank You for using even kidnapping and slavery to prepare Squanto to save the Pilgrims and spread the Gospel. We pray for persecuted Christians today who are experiencing similar suffering. Use their trials for Your purposes. Give them faith to trust You when they can't see Your plan. Use their witness to bring many to salvation. And help us to be truly thankful—not just for comfort and abundance, but for knowing You, for the privilege of prayer, and for the honor of being part of Your global Church. May we never take our freedom for granted, and may we always remember those who don't have it. In Jesus's name, amen.
Thank you for joining me today. Until next time, remember—keep your eyes on the nations and give thanks for God's sovereignty, even in suffering!
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