It is July 4th. I am sitting here at my sister-in-laws house overlooking one of the most majestic lakes I have ever set my eyes on. My family is all here. We are enjoying this week together that is always one of the biggest highlights of the year. This lake is our happy place. And it is my place of peace. And yet, this “Independence” Day, I can’t say that I feel overwhelmed by peace.
So today, I want to acknowledge something I have felt for a long time but have frankly been too afraid to admit: I don’t always feel very proud to be an American. I know, with that statement I have offended many of you. So please, give me a moment to unpack what I mean and what I don’t mean by this.
I don’t mean that I am not appreciative of the freedoms I have as a citizen of this country. I am thankful for my freedom to worship, to access free education, to vote and have a say in our governance. I am thankful for my freedoms. I also don’t mean that I am not appreciative of all those who have fought for those freedoms on various battlefields throughout the last several centuries. Their sacrifices are not forgotten or taken for granted. I know that my life could be very different if I were born in a different place than here.
And yet, I have never truly been “proud to be an American.” Lucky to be an American, yes. But, proud?
I have spent most of my life wrestling with this holiday because I have always demanded that I look at our country, in the same way I seek to look at myself—with critical eyes. I have sought to look for the beauty, but also be honest about the failings. I do that with myself because I am called by Christ to see my sin so that I can confess, so I can repent, and so that through those actions God can bring about my cleansing and my redemption. I do that with my nation, because I desire that same cleansing and redemption for her.
And this year more than ever, I have thought about this holiday through the eyes of others.
I have thought of it through native eyes—eyes that saw their land taken and their people killed; eyes that are still watching as their sacred spaces are desecrated for the sake of the almighty dollar.
I have thought of it through black eyes—eyes that watched as others lived “the American dream” through their unpaid labor in different ways from generation to generation; eyes that are still staring at the rest of us saying: “when will you see that enslavement has only changed forms?”
I have thought of it through immigrant eyes—eyes that came to this country seeking a better life and greater opportunities only to be met with assumptions, stereotypes and discrimination; eyes that have been mocked by leaders and citizens alike because they do not meet “the ideal,” because they are different.
Just as Israel was called to look honestly at her history, so we as Americans need to pause at this moment. Turn off the grill. Put down the flag for a moment. Pick up your Bible. Close your eyes. Open your heart and ask God to give you an honest picture of where we stand as a nation.
What does it mean for America to be “great?” Are we great? Were we ever great? What is the mark of greatness? Is it power? Is it wealth? If that is the definition of greatness, then maybe we were great. Maybe we are great.
But when I look at the Scriptures, the image of greatness I see there is very different.
This desire for greatness is not new. It has run through our narrative as the people of God since the very beginning.
Remember when the serpent tempted Eve? What did he tempt her with? With the lure of “being like God”—with the bait of greatness. God gave Adam and Eve every good thing in that Garden, but they chose the aspiration to greatness over closeness of fellowship with Him.
Remember when the people of Israel wanted a king? They wanted a king so they could be like the nations. They wanted a king so they could be great. God was grieved, for He wanted to be their king, and He knew the greatness they needed would never be found in conforming to the powers and structures of the world around them.
Remember when the disciples argued about where they would sit in the Kingdom? When the mother of the sons of Zebedee asked Jesus for the best seats to be reserved for her sons? When the disciples argued on the road about what ladder rung they would be positioned at? In that moment, Jesus gave them a lesson about greatness:
“Sitting down, Jesus called the Twelve and said, “Anyone who wants to be first must be the very last, and the servant of all” (Mark 9:35).
How are we doing with this America? Are we great in a way that trusts God’s goodness and is satisfied in Him alone? Are we great in a way that says, “we don’t need to be like the nations because God is our King?” Are we great in a way that those of us with unearned privilege and opportunities lay down our own power, our own status to serve and lift up those who have never had the ability to access any of the things that are ours by no effort of our own?
When I put down my tongs; when I close my eyes; when I am willing to listen to God and to be critical of myself and of our nation the bell of “the Land of the Free” just does not ring true. We have never been and are not a country where all people are truly free. I am convicted, are you?
I am sitting here, looking out at crystal clear waters. I watch as my husband pulls out of the boathouse in that boat that makes me feel so alive. A huge part of me wants to shut this computer and run down and jump on that boat. But I won’t. I can’t.
I won’t and I can’t because I believe we are at a critical juncture in our nation’s history. We are at a crossroads where these inequities, these unexposed blemishes of our nation, are being exposed. While many people are still trying to cover their eyes, so they don’t have to see, many are also daring to look. They are daring to look with critical eyes. They are daring to look through the eyes of “the other.” They are beginning to wake up.
Most of you who are familiar with the Bible, are familiar with the parable of the sower in Matthew 13. I know that this passage is about how we respond to the Word of God. But as I was sitting in prayer, God applied these words to how we can respond to this moment as a nation.
The question is, what seed will we be in this moment?
Will we be like the seed on the path? Will we refuse to even let ourselves touch the soil? Will we keep our eyes shut tightly waiting for the birds to come and take us away?
Will we be like the seed in the rocky soil? Will we engage in this moment with great passion but little endurance? When our roots prove to be shallow will we give up the fight altogether?
Will we like the seed tossed among the thorns? Will we think these thoughts and listen to these podcasts and read these books…when it’s raining? When the sun is shining and the boat is leaving the boathouse, when the kids are annoying us, when money is tight, will we throw our hands in the air and say, “forget it! It’s too much! Let someone else do it!” and in so doing submit to the thorns?
All of these are likely scenarios. They are scenarios of how this narrative has played out time and again throughout history.
But I believe we can do better! I think, we are called to do better.
I believe that in this moment, we can be that seed that falls in the good soil. We can grow our roots deep so that when the weather comes, we can withstand it. We can soak in what we need from the very good soil of God’s Word and we can let that be our nourishment to keep us going to truly attain a greatness that is marked by love, compassion, grace, humility and justice. We can be a seed that produces a crop “a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown” (Matthew 13:8b).
I could not write this post if I did not believe this was possible. I could not bear the weight of dreaming for such a beautiful outcome if I didn’t have a glimmer of hope that it was possible. So, America, let’s stand together in a way that can truly make all of us “proud to be Americans.” Let’s raise our voices and say “Freedom will not reign until all are free.” Let’s be prophets, speaking to human authorities the very words of God. Let’s write the next chapter of a history that we can truly be proud of. Who is with me?!
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