July 4th is here. The birthday of our Nation. This week we'll celebrate with parades, fireworks wherever it's not bone dry, cookout's, and concerts. Beaches and lakes will be crowded. For many, Old Glory will be raised and those seasonal, decorative yard flags will come down. Some of us won't need to raise the red, white and blue because it's pretty much the only flag we fly anyway. Nothing against those giant lady bug, or frog flags either!
I wonder how many hot dogs, hamburgers and cans of beer will be consumed during the holiday? Perhaps that's a more accurate reflection of America's DNA than our self-professing patriotism. We Americans do love to consume. If you're in doubt just scan the local newspaper and see how many July 4th sales ads you find at the Big Box stores and car dealerships. Big Box stores----now there's one of our biggest architectural and economic contributions to the world! Excuse me while I remove my tongue from my cheek.
I would to God that our beloved America was known more overseas for our godliness, instead of things or people like: Ipods/Iphones; Paris Hilton; MTV; Bling-bling; America Idol; outrageous lawsuits; and thug, or steroid-riddled professional sports and affluence obsession. All of us have contributed to this image in some form or fashion. Before you accuse me of hurling stones from a glass house, I must confess that I'm blogging this while sitting in a Starbucks. Talk about consumption!
From Fourth of July's long past, I can remember sitting on the bank of the Ohio River as a child with several families from our church, watching the hydra-boat races, tailgating (we called it a picnic back then), as the kids played games without anything electronic! We played games like baseball, badminton, horseshoes, tag and volleyball. Each of us would have to take our turn sitting on the homemade icecream bucket while an adult turned the handcrank, and fed the bucket more ice and rock salt. Most of us were wearing canvas tennis shoes without logos when the AM radio announcer introduced the local pastor who would offer the invocation before we sang the National Anthem. Air Force jets would then strafe across the sky and we were off to the races. EVERYONE enjoyed it because businesses, banks, restaurants, and stores closed for all or most of the day to celebrate America's birthday.
No, I'm not reminiscing through rose-colored glasses. We have come a long way since then, but in many respects we've taken two steps back while taking three into the local mall. Yes, it was a simpler time, but my Grandfather's (born in 1902) memories of July 4th's long gone was even simpler! His generation and my Dad's went to war to right injustices and defend the defenseless. Somehow I have a hard time accepting the idea that some kid my son's age is riding in an armor-plated Humvee in Iraq, serving in an unpopular war, so I can make another trip to Walmart, or to the gas station to fill my tank with refined Mideast oil! Agree or disagree with the war, these kids need to know they are defending much more than our freedom to be better consumers. We owe them our prayers and support.
I'm going home now and making sure our faded, sun-soaked U.S. flag is up. And this week I'm going to sing the song written by a Russian immigrant (Irving Berlin) asking God to bless America. But I'm not going to ask that without accepting the responsibilty of being blessed. It comes with high expectations and responsibilities to the rest of the world. As American's we need to be more grateful so that we may become even more generous with those around the world who have far less. I'm going to get on my knees and weep for the spiritual condition of our culture and ask God to heal us. But it has to start with me. Not my neighbor, or those northern states, or those "other" countries. It must begin with you and me.
God bless America, but only so she may be a blessing to others and bring Him glory, not to increase my retirement fund or investment portfolio at the expense of those who are in serious need.
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