Happy Birthday, America!
Happy Birthday, America!
This is our country’s semiquincentennial birthday.
I’m old enough to remember the bicentennial. It was 1976, and I was in the third grade. We saw the Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey Circus that year—quite the extravaganza of red, white, and blue sequined everything, and a lot of confetti. I distinctly remember the clowns on stilts in their white beards and top hats, sparkly blue pants flapping in the ring.
Fourth of July celebrations in my hometown granted me that special, mid-century experience of veterans, parades, fireworks, and patriotic singing. We celebrated as a town. We walked to the fairgrounds with our neighbors, and we sat together in a haze of Off, cheering, oohing and aaahing at the only fireworks we would witness all year long. At the end of the fireworks display, a lit American flag rose, cueing everyone to sing “The Star-Spangled Banner.” We sang, hands over our hearts. We teared up, especially during the high notes of “the rocket’s red glare.”
At least, my mom and I always teared up. The national anthem—or any patriotic song—has always had that effect on us. Perhaps I learned the behavior from her. Or perhaps I was always an empath. I just knew that my mother would cry. She would remember and honor my father’s sacrifice, and I would honor his service and my mother’s pain at losing him.
On the Fourth (also Memorial Day and Veteran’s Day), we flew our flag from the front porch. On the Fourth, for sure, we made some kind of red, white, and blue cake. Our cakes were not beautiful. In fact, Mom often let us decorate them. But they included blue and red fruit, colored frosting, or gelatin-colored cake batter to achieve the desired patriotic affect.
I grew up learning how to remember. Remembering is the key issue to everything. Remembering creates gratefulness, honor, loyalty, and perspective. Remembering establishes a sense of belonging and family, of being a part of something bigger and grander than your own personal existence; yet remembering with honor also validates your personal existence.
My contributions matter. My morality matters. My kindness matters. I’m a part of the American experience, of our culture and our values, just like everyone else. We all matter in a country such as ours.
Without remembrance, honor vanishes, and entitlement triumphs.
When my kids were little, I taught them American history and attempted to carry on the patriotic traditions I had enjoyed. My kids saw a lot less battlefields, monuments, cemeteries, museums, and Presidents’ houses than I had, but I attempted to expose them to these places of remembrance as much as I could.
Now I feel a bit lost as the family matriarch-patriot. My children are all adults. I don’t even host a Fourth of July picnic because my married kids typically go to their in-laws. My husband and I attend local fireworks, which is a “must-see” for me (shades of my childhood), regardless of the work involved getting there and back. I always enjoy the show, but somehow it lacks the emotion of my childhood experience.
Fireworks remind me to celebrate. Celebration reminds me to consider what America means to me and to the world. America is no small accomplishment. We established the first truly democratic nation (by revolting from the strongest empire on earth), creating and implementing a governmental system that would be replicated and reinvented by countless nations for hundreds of years after. Our Declaration of Independence was a life-threatening act of treason for those who signed it. Our Constitution bears the perspectives of men who risked everything and the wisdom of leaders who realized that our nation would change from what they envisioned, and they wrote laws to keep both perspectives in mind.
Whenever I’ve taught American government to ESL students, they are shocked and impressed. It’s one of my favorite things to teach because when your students have lived and left communism, tyrannical regimes, and cartel-dominated governments, they easily recognize what makes American different, what makes it remarkable and honorable. They’re not so bothered by the petty politics that anger us; they’ve seen so much worse. And they chose to come here, although doing so is extremely complicated and expensive.
In Scripture, God demonstrates the value of each individual. He demands and models the importance of equality in a million different ways. That’s what I’m celebrating today. That’s where I find space to honor and be grateful, even when I disagree with so many cultural and political things in this country. I understand liberty’s true meaning—the liberty of the soul and spirit—and the responsibility that such a liberty entails by appreciating the freedom I enjoy.
Happy Semiquincentennial Birthday, America! You are still a baby, in country years, which means you’re still experiencing growing pains. You are beautiful and messy and unique, and I love you. Thank you for being yourself and letting me be myself.
“So Christ has truly set us free. Now make sure that you stay free, and don’t get tied up again in slavery to the law.”—Galatians 5:1 (NLT)
