[This Sunday, we commemorated our nation's independence. The lessons were Deuteronomy 10:17-21, Hebrews 11:8-16, and Matthew 5:43-48.]
As we commemorate the 232nd anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, we should recall a unique aspect of that new Government.
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
These words from the Declaration of Independence had a new idea—that all men (and women) are created equal and that their rights come from God, not an earthly King. We know, of course, that our ancestors did not always live up to these ideals. Nor do we today. Being human, they sinned and fell short. Women were not considered “equal” to men. Some men and women were so unequal that we treated them as mere property. We fell short and still fall short today. But the ideals remain, calling us to be better than ourselves, speaking to what President Lincoln called “the better angels of our nature.”
Some people question whether a commemoration of Independence Day is appropriate in the context of our liturgy. In fact prayers and readings for that day were not provided in the Book of Common Prayer until 1928! Some are concerned that many of the hymns may sound as if we claim that God is on our side. (I am reminded, though, of Lincoln’s statement that he was less concerned whether God was on our side than with whether we were on God’s side!) Others express concerns whether prayers which celebrate freedom and liberty are appropriate when they seem to overlook the imperfections in our society.
These concerns have some validity, but I believe that we can and should properly celebrate those early faltering steps on the road to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” while also recalling that we have not even approached the end of that journey and that we must not forget that we must at times go back to make sure no one has been left behind on the journey.
We can be proud of many things our country represents. We have worked through these two-plus centuries to extend freedom to all our people and we have worked—again, imperfectly—to support the cause of freedom throughout the world. Our country has truly been a beacon of liberty to the world, drawing millions of people—my ancestors and yours—over the years to our shores.
But there is so much still to do. This year, we seem to be afraid of so much. We are afraid of those who are different from us, so we seek to build walls around our country and our communities and we have people seeking large scale roundups of immigrants, especially Hispanics, to ship them somewhere else out of fear that we will otherwise suffer culturally and economically.
We are rightly called a nation of immigrants. I’m reminded of the story of a woman who was proud of her heritage and at a dinner party told a man, “My ancestors came over on the Mayflower!” He smiled and said, “How wonderful! Mine met the boat.”
Unless you are pure native American, you are here because people made decisions to leave their homes and make often dangerous journeys to this land. (For some, unfortunately, the decision was made for them and against their will.) Their welcome was uncertain, often depending on where they came from and when they came. But, we are here because of them.
Immigrants have served this country well, even when it may not have deserved that service. Some of the fiercest fighters on our side in World War II were the Japanese-American units whose families were in internment camps back home. Acts of valor were committed by the descendents of slaves who returned home to find it was the color of their skin—not the color of the uniform they wore—that was important. Arlington National Cemetery contains the remains of some of these “strangers” who gave that “last full measure of devotion” for a country that had yet to fully accept them.
Remember, as our Presiding Bishop has said,
As Christians, we are called to embrace the stranger, to render hospitality to those who are most vulnerable, and to find Christ in all who come to us in need. We are commanded to love our neighbors as God loves us. We have promised at baptism to seek and serve Christ in all persons. Therefore we share the pain of those workers being rounded up by our government for lack of legal status. Their families are experiencing the pain of separation and uncertainty, and untold hardship is being inflicted upon those struggling to support themselves and their families in a land which often wants their labor but denies them basic human dignity. As their brothers and sisters, we are diminished by their suffering.
Out of fear of terrorism, we act as a nation in ways that stand in stark contrast to the values we profess to honor. You may have seen the recent series in the Macon newspaper on how those imprisoned at Guantanamo have been treated. Setting aside for a moment whether "enhanced interrogation procedures"—otherwise known as torture—are effective (and most professionals say they aren’t), there is little doubt that that they violate the “dignity of every human being” which we promise to respect in our Baptismal Covenant.
But, not all is dark. Even with its flaws, our nation is still a beacon to the world. (In fact, that is why many in the world are so upset with how we have in their eyes betrayed their ideal image of America!) But, I can say what I am saying today without any fear of punishment. In November, I can vote as I choose without fear of beatings, starvation, or death, unlike the unhappy people of Zimbabwe. I can worship as I choose (or not!), without fear of a religious police!
Everywhere you turn there are examples of men and women doing what they can to bring the Kingdom of God into being. Faith groups, including our own Episcopal Relief and Development, are helping victims of natural disasters in our Midwestern states as well as the victims of Katrina three years ago. The One Vote campaign, which is supported by The Episcopal Church, works to unite Americans of all parties in the effort to eliminate extreme poverty, one of the Millennium Development Goals. We are called to do these things and more.
To conclude, I want to quote some more words of Abraham Lincoln, from his second inaugural address. With some slight changes of wording to reflect our times, they are a pretty good statement of where we should go:
With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation’s wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.
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