Happy treason day!
Yep, that is the technical term our friends across the pond use for the American 4th of July holiday. The fifty-six Founding Fathers who signed the Declaration and many other colonial citizens were guilty of treason against King George III, a crime punishable by death. They were staking their reputations, wealth, and lives on the new experiment. The blasphemous document even went so far as to declare that human beings were granted permanent rights derived from their Maker, who was not the king of Britain, but an even higher Authority. Colonists were a more church-going lot of people than the British at the time, and their faith unquestionably made its way into the new government. King George, leader of the most powerful nation on earth, disagreed and had no plans to give up his cash cow across the Atlantic.
I have read that many of England’s citizens wryly joke about “those rebellious colonies” and often view Americans as finding any excuse to celebrate something. On both counts, I think they are right! So, let’s party! I think they are pretty happy with us now, so we’ve got that going for us. Sometimes rebellion is a good thing.
Our world view is a matter of perspective, and like opinions, everybody’s got one. We form our outlook heavily based upon our experiences, so the more limited our understanding of the larger world around us, the narrower our perspective.
I grew up in Indiana, where every home has a basketball goal in the driveway, and hoops are part of the culture. Then I moved to Pennsylvania. I assumed basketball was popular everywhere – wrong! At the time, my high school basketball gymnasium was larger than Penn States' old arena. The pigskin reigns supreme in the Keystone state—my mistake
I grew up subconsciously thinking that the world revolved around the United States kinda like the solar system revolving around earth, and we were the land with the most opportunity, wealth, military prowess, and the best hamburgers. Then, I started visiting other countries and learned that many people groups hardly recognize America. I was also reminded that there are twenty-three separate countries on the North American continent, and Canada has an enormous land mass by far. Mexico City is the largest metropolis, while the U.S.A. has the most people. Any one of the twenty-three countries can lay claim to being “American,” including Greenland! Most of their citizens are proud of their native land and have no desire to move to the U.S. Though many want to immigrate to our country, they are a small percentage of their total home population.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the good ole US of A and wouldn’t want to live elsewhere. This is indeed a land of great opportunity, and we do have the best hamburgers, and we’ve got some excellent pizza joints too. Patriotism is essential, and I am, as the song states, “proud to be an American.” However, zeal for our wonderful country should not be at the cost of declaring the rest of the world – lesser.
A little travel opens vistas of understanding about people.
I spent years thinking I knew a little about poverty until I visited Haiti numerous times, then West Africa, and ultimately, the colossus of poverty, India. I knew nearly nothing about the plight of the poor, and half of what I thought I knew was wrong. These experiences forever changed my worldview. Poor people may not have much, but they are still precious in the sight of God and, hopefully, to you and me.
Three weeks ago, I laid my head down in Conner, Montana, at 4,000 feet above sea level. My location was squarely in the middle of nowhere, and the only noise, I do mean, the only noise, was the rushing creek in the backyard. I lay on the bed, eyes wide open, wondering why I couldn’t sleep. Then it dawned on me. This place is deathly silent! It was even a bit spooky as I kept listening for any noise, but none was had. I’ve lived next to Good Hope Road for many years, and I-81 and PA 581 are less than a mile as the crow flies. The fire company is a block down the street, and my house is in the landing path of Harrisburg International. I can tell you about what time it is in the evening by the aircraft descending overhead. I have long since become desensitized to the decibel level around my home.
Who woulda thunk it? I’m not used to quiet, and it took two attempts before I enjoyed a good night of sleep because it was so void of sound. Now, I am confident that if one of the residents of Laird Creek Road in Conner came to stay at the Hamilton ranch, the noise would drive them nuts. What helps one to sleep is a matter of perspective.
I grew up attending an Independent Christian Church in a small mid-western city. My parents, especially my mother, were wary of those Catholics. How could anyone come to know Jesus through all the extra-Scriptural add-ons, and who knows, the pope might be the great deceiver himself. I assumed they were correct.
Then one of my sisters became a Catholic, partially because of the terrible hypocrisy she experienced in “our” brand of churches. Mom nearly passed out, and my sister was nearly ostracized. I learned that my sis found peace with God and a deeper relationship to Jesus than probably any time in her life and certainly as fulfilling as mine. Go figure! How could this be?
I have disagreements with the Catholic approach to faith, but I learned it is wrong to make profound pronunciations about matters of which we are ignorant. I also have conflicts with my denomination of origin. In fact, I don’t even agree with myself sometimes!
As a pastor, I occasionally had conversations with critics of Christianity, trying to use Scriptures to back their arguments. I’m usually up for a good discussion, but I sometimes learned that the one with whom I was conversing knew precious little about the Bible, and if I pressed even a smidgen, their ignorance glowed like a lighting bug at night. The person argued out of a false sense of knowledge, and I had studied the Word of God enough to detect it quickly - discussion over. I gracefully excused myself to debate another day with someone more knowledgeable.
We sometimes pontificate about matters of which we a sorely lacking in understanding, and those disagreements are usually the result of two clashing worldviews. Been there, done that.
Actually, I deduced from my minimal research that Brits generally do not pay any attention to our Day of Independence. Why should they? I think both sides of the Atlantic are pleased that we’re no longer killing each other and are pretty good friends. I love visiting England, Scotland, and Ireland and have met some beautiful people there. Besides, everyone knows the British accent conclusively reveals they are of superior intelligence.
No matter the differences in worldviews, I’ve learned that people everywhere are good folks. We all,100%, carry the burdens and spiny skin created by sin, but nevertheless, we are still created in God’s image. People I’ve met in Haiti, Bolivia, Thailand, France, Ireland, Canada, Mexico, the USA, and many others, want the same things. They would like the freedom to pursue their dreams, no matter how large or small. They want to enjoy a level of security in a community that guards their lives and the chance to be happy.
Oh wait, that sounds strangely familiar to the letter we sent to old King George III.
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 ... "
Now that’s a reason to celebrate! Let the 4th of July festivities begin! Happy Treason Day too!
