The Fourth of July 2020

On this Fourth of July we pray: “Grant that we and all the people of this land may have grace to maintain our liberties in righteousness and peace.” Because on July 4, 1776, the thirteen “United States” unanimously declared: “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. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed…”

Among the earliest colonists, men like John Cotton and John Winthrop, more than 100 years before Thomas Jefferson penned this Declaration, provided a vision before even reaching these shores this the New World would also be “the New Israel.” It is only natural, then, that we revisit some of the underlying constitution of what it means to be like the people who became Israel in the Wilderness Sojourn in our reading from Deuteronomy.

At the heart of this understanding Moses, speaking on behalf of the God of the Exodus and Passover, says we must remember who we are and whose we are: we were sojourners, strangers, aliens, in the land of Egypt as slaves 24/7; deprived of Life, Liberty and Happiness. Therefore, we are always to “love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt” – and as well we should, like God, execute justice for the widow and the orphan. [Deuteronomy 10:17-21] Widows, orphans and resident aliens, strangers, are to be a protected class in Israel – and therefore ought to receive the same kind of love and care in our “New Israel.”

In 1982, as I entered my final year at The General Theological Seminary in New York City, we were engaged in a racial audit – an examination of what kinds of institutional racism and bias might exist systemically in the life of the seminary community. Needless to say, people were on edge during this process. In the midst of this, I had to deliver my Senior Sermon in our weekly Community Eucharist in the Seminary Chapel. I was nervous. The seating was what we all choir seating – pews facing each other across the center aisle – we could all see one another. We came from all kinds of backgrounds – Anglo-Catholic, Low Church Protestant, Evangelical, Historic Black Churches, Egyptian Churches, Methodist and Presbyterian Churches, and the Congregational Church as I had. You would notice that people on the other side would cross themselves at different points in the liturgy, bow their heads, and all sorts of manual acts as they are called. People on both sides would begin to mimic those on the other side – a sort of ongoing metaphor for the kinds of assimilation that goes on in our united melting pot made up of all kinds of different people similar to the crowd who left Egypt that fateful day in Exodus.

As I got going in my sermon, having been told to calm my nerves I should imagine everyone sitting there in their underwear (which frankly was even more unnerving!) – I suggested we all  take a look across the aisle. We are all strangers here. We all come from different churches, different dioceses and even different countries – just like the 650,000 who left Pharaoh’s Empire of Oppression. “Remember, you were strangers in the Land of Egypt,” I said. “Let’s sit here quietly, looking across the aisle at one another and ponder this as we try to reconcile our racial biases. We are all strangers in this new world of seminary.” I will never forget the power of that silence as we remembered who we were and whose we were – all of us believed we had received a call from the Almighty God of the Passover and Exodus to be in the seminary.

Winthrop, Cotton, Jefferson and all the others also believed they were sent by God, and penned the unforgettable words, “all men are created equal…endowed with certain unalienable rights.” And then proceeded to define Africans as only 3/5ths of a person in the Constitution. And as I write these words Friday evening, the Lakota First Nation People are attempting to protect their Sacred Land, their Holy Ground, from being used as a political stage for the resident aliens who had long ago agreed by treaty that this was Sacred Native land. We still forget who we are and whose we are. We are the new strangers in an Old World that had sustained significant civilizations for thousands of years before we arrived. It’s no wonder that we need to ponder the words of Moses and God in Deuteronomy this July 4^th more than ever: “we are always to love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land” once upon a time.

Then there is the business about loving our enemies and being perfect as “your heavenly Father is perfect.” Jesus in Matthew always has a way with words, but this tops it all. We may as well admit right now that we have utterly failed in these two categories of Christian virtues: we find it difficult to love our neighbors let alone our enemies; as to being perfect like God, well no analysis needed here. This, of course, comes from what we lovingly call The Sermon on the Mount, a sort of Christian Magna Carta or Constitution. We recall, surely, that prior to all this talk about loving enemies and being perfect in chapter 5, our Lord utters words about the need for us to be reconciled “with those who have something against us” before ever thinking to come before the altar of the Lord – before even stepping into church. [Mt 5:21-24] We might do well silently to ponder these words of Jesus before going back to see how we might take Thomas Jefferson and the representatives of thirteen colonies seriously and finally accept that all men are created equal; that race is a biological fiction; that science, of all things, has confirmed we are all one – all notions of so-called “race” we just made up to divide and demean one another.

My friend and mentor, the Reverend Bob Bonner, used to tell the story about his son Bruce who grew up in Texas and loved to play football. In high school the football players were required to be on the track team in the spring to stay in shape. After all the events had been handed out to the football team, there was one event left: the High Jump. Bruce was rather short and stout, but he volunteered to High Jump. Even after practice at school, Bruce would set up a broom stick across two standards in the backyard and jump and jump until dinner time. He worked really hard at it. Bob would say, “How high can you jump?” And Bruce would point to just above his waist with a big smile and say, “Up to here!” When he came home from the first track meet, Bob asked Bruce how it had gone. “Well, I told you I could jump up to here,” he said pointing to just above his waist. “The problem is they started with the bar up to here,” as he pointed to his upper chest. Bob would say, “That’s OK, son. You tried your best. God will forgive you the rest.”

Bob would tell us that’s what Jesus is talking about when he urges us to be perfect as God is perfect. Give it your best, and God will forgive the rest. I guess what I am thinking is that the Fourth of July is a time to ask ourselves, “Have we really tried our best? Have we really found ways to show that we believe all men, women and children are created equal? Have we really treated strangers, all strangers, with love and respect and dignity? Have we tried to reconcile our differences before coming before the altar of the Lord week after week after week?”

One day I was about to leave my office when the phone rang. It was Bob Bonner who was dying of a brain tumor. He said on good days when he could talk, he called his friends and did I want to know the rest of the story of Bruce? Of course, I did. Bruce had learning disabilities and was a five-year student at high school. Every day he practiced with the football team even though he was ineligible to play in games. Bob asked him why he did that. “Well,” said Bruce, “I do it for myself because I know I would get in trouble if I didn’t have something to do after school. And now that I’m bigger and stronger, I do it for the team so they get to practice harder and play better.” I do it for myself, and for the team. This July Fourth seems like as good a time as ever in my lifetime to see how we might practice harder at being perfect as God is perfect: welcoming strangers in the land, loving our neighbors and enemies, and reconcile things with those who have something against us. We know the ‘team’ needs us to do this, and it will be better for each of us at the end of the day as well. Grant that we and all the people of this land may have grace to maintain our liberties in righteousness and peace. It’ worth trying harder at this, and if we do, perhaps God will forgive the difference. Amen.