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Our
Nation Needs a Field Trip “It is high time that we Americans took a good look at ourselves,…remembering how we established a land of freedom and democracy, remembering what we believed in when we did it.” –Eleanor Roosevelt Meditation We begin our meditation time this morning with the words of 19th century American poet and “Bard of Democracy” Walt Whitman.
In Leaves of Grass, Whitman wrote:
I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear; Those of mechanics -- each one singing his, as it should be, blithe and strong; The carpenter singing his, as he measures his plank and beam; The mason singing his, as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work; The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat -- the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck; The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench -- the hatter singing as he stands; The wood-cutter's song -- the ploughboy's, on his way in the morning, or at the noon intermission, or at sundown; The delicious singing of the mother -- or of the young wife at work -- or of the girl sewing or washing -- Each singing what belongs to her, and to none else; The day what belongs to the day -- At night, the party of young fellows, robust, friendly, Singing, with open mouths, their strong melodious songs.
My copy of Whitman’s Leaves of Grass is currently boxed up, so I had to go to the internet for the text of “I Hear America Singing.” (http://www.americanpoems.com/poets/waltwhitman) Along with the poem, one website featured readers’ comments. As a continuation of the meditation, I share some of these comments, now, for they, too, are a part of America’s song:
Jamie responded: Walt Whitman, in this poem, may actually be trying to be sarcastic. At the time the poem was written workers were being mistreated and the conditions they worked under were terrifying.
Darryl wrote: This poem is okay to me. I think it just means that everybody is important in America. Woopie!
Karen wrote: To me the poem means that everyone is different and in America that is ok. Everyone is allowed to sing their song out loud...the workers represent the ordinary citizen and the songs are our voices and opinions. Even the small guys have the freedom of speech.
Kira wrote: I'm currently studying Walt Whitman and I am right now learning about this poem (I'm a sixth grader). This is one of the few poems I like and understand. Why do teachers make kids study poems?!?
Katie wrote: To me this poem is less about a carefree society that is all joy and singing. I think Whitman realized the problems in America also. This poem is more about people finding satisfaction in their lives because it is THEIR LIFE. No one else’s. They are independent and that makes them free. To be able to say that you worked for something, and it is yours, is a great thing.
Sarah wrote: This poem is disgusting and ought to be banned from all school reading lists. It is nothing but an enigmatic reference to his sexual love affair with a boy and his mother.
Ashley wrote: Luv it.
Blanca wrote: I THINK THAT THIS POEM DOESN'T MAKE SENSE BECAUSE IT'S WRITTEN LIKE IN THE OLD FASHINED WAY WITH WEIRD WORDS.THE POET DIDN'T REALLY MAKE A POINT.
Justin wrote: In "I Hear America Singing" the poet shows that different types of people form one song of America. It also shows that these types of poems are what America is known for. We are all different but we are Americans too.
Reading This morning’s reading is an excerpt from a letter written by UU minister Forrester Church to his four children. The letter is printed as the dedication to Church’s book The American Creed, a “spiritual and patriotic primer,” in which Church points to the preamble of the Declaration of Independence as the “creed” of our American “political faith.” He writes:
You have often heard me criticize the policies of our government and the actions of our leaders. You have also heard others promote or defend America with words you find distasteful. You might conclude that, in today’s world, America creates more problems than it solves. When we exercise our power wantonly, we can do great damage. But we also possess a history that instructs us in how to employ our influence and wealth. Ours is a good nation that sometimes does bad things. To be mindful of the latter and forget the former is both cynical and wrong. Can you imagine how hard it would be to go through life with little memory of your past? How could you learn from your mistakes? And how would you know how you had arrived at your beliefs, or even what they were? This is why I ask you to listen to Thomas Jefferson: “All people are created equal. They are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights. Among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. To secure these rights government is instituted among us.” These propositions were unique in history when they were formulated in 1776 and remain unusual in the world even today. Ours is a proud heritage, not only a vainglorious one. If you want to discover America, look in the mirror. Look closely and you will see your ancestors reflected in the cleft of your chin and the shape of your brow. Look more closely still; imagine that you can see through your eyes into their eyes. You will witness many nationalities….You will notice many faiths….You will observe a variety of occupations and conditions, and encounter a wide range of convictions. And then look deeper, into each of their hearts. Imagine their dreams and their toils, their risks and sacrifices. Some of your forebears’ prejudices and certain of their practices, such as slaveholding, will make you uncomfortable, and they should. Whenever we look into the mirror, unless we lack all conscience, we see things we don’t like about ourselves. I am hopeful you will never disown your ancestors for their own mistakes but instead learn from them. They were flawed and complex individuals, just as you are. Critique your forefathers and foremothers; try to understand them; forgive them; embrace them. But don’t ever forget them, for you will be forgetting yourself. You are who you are not only because they chanced to couple and thereby kept the fragile thread that stretches from you to the beginning of time from being broken. You are who you are, in large measure, because they were who they were. So look in the mirror.
Recorded Music Meditation My Strange Nation by Susan Werner (www.susanwerner.com) My Strange Nation / Has ocean on two sides / And the 'Bama Crimson Tide in the south / Tilted slightly toward the north / The immigrants pour forth / Seeking Phoenix / And life hand to mouth / My strange nation / Tilts sharply to the right / With our leaders straight and white / As our teeth / Our population's mixed / But our election's fixed / In my Strange Nation / America My Strange Nation / Built on the backs of slaves / Who were sailed here cross the waves / From far away / This cruel experiment / Was ended by a president / Who was both / A republican ... And Gay My Strange Nation / Gave the Indians our germs / They surrendered on our terms / As in Died / Their survivors filed appeals / So we gave them roulette wheels / In my Strange Nation / America But my Strange Nation / Has lost its mind again / Sending young women and men / Off to war / For reasons that aren't clear / Unless you're standing near / To the rich and the righteous / And the bored / And my strange nation / Enamored of the cross / And who will win the toss / Of the coin / The circus and the bread / Distract us from the dead / In my Strange Nation / America But my Strange Nation / Will surely come around / For you cannot hold us down for long / We'll sputter and we'll cough / And throw the despots off / And recover the soul that makes us strong / And my frustration / Is just a product of / My strange but loyal love / For this land / For its mountains and its lakes / Tornadoes and earthquakes / For its poets and pioneers / For its fetishes and fears / For its freedom of dissent / For its greasy government / And I will not change this stance / I will not move to France / I will always hold out one more chance / For my Strange Nation / America.
Sermon A few months ago I took a trip to Washington, DC. I was invited by the Human Rights Campaign, an organization working for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender equal rights. They were holding a “clergy call for equity and justice” that included a Capitol Hill press conference with religious leaders from every state in the nation followed by extensive lobby visits with the goal of persuading Congress to pass legislation combating hate-motivated violence and ending workplace discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity.
I had an extraordinary trip and brought back many memories of my visit to our nation’s capital: from the harrowing turbulence-plagued landing at Reagan airport, to the powerful interfaith service held at All Souls UU Church that night, during which impassioned speakers and musicians reminded all those present of the kind of God worth believing in--a God of justice who embraces all her people and who encourages the elimination of identity-based discrimination.
I could write an entire sermon about the details of our training session the following morning, during which 220 of my fellow clergy and I, representing many faiths, were educated on the goals of the campaign and the misinformation that was being spread by fear-mongering, so-called religious types who wanted Congress to think that the hate-crimes legislation we were pursuing, if it had been passed around two thousand years ago, would have put Jesus in jail.
I don’t recall the stories of Jesus violently attacking gay people, but apparently these folks know scripture better than I do.
The room of clergy was rendered speechless when the Human Rights Campaign staff displayed a flyer that had been distributed all over Washington that week, depicting the “Prince of Peace” on a WANTED poster: “for revealing the truth about homosexuality in ‘The Bible’ and encouraging His followers not to offend God by committing such behavior.” I can take the credit for breaking the silence in the room when I couldn’t stop myself from speaking aloud a one-word response: “What-ever!” A hearty laugh ensued, at least until one of my colleagues spoke up suggesting that while the “Jesus Wanted” poster might be absurd to us, it was deadly serious to those who were spreading its fear-filled, and, in its own way, identity-based message. The room got quiet again.
I have lots of memories of the press conference we held on the Capitol lawn later that morning, all of us in the attire of our religious traditions, standing on risers with the Capitol rising behind us, waiting for the press to arrive to take pictures of our presence. We waited quietly for what felt like a long time on that brisk, wind-whipped April morning, until one of us started singing, and we all followed suit. “This Little Light of Mine,” “We are a Gentle, Angry People,” “We Shall Overcome.” The group of folks who had gathered to watch the press conference, mostly Human Rights Campaign staffers with their cameras and video recorders, along with a few independent press reporters, stopped their conversations as our voices filled the air with music. Many of them started to cry. And some of my colleagues and I did, too. To have clergy from all over the country standing together, singing on behalf of the rights of gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people…in front of the Capitol no less…was a stirring sight and sound. It was a song of America that we all knew was long overdue.
I have lots of memories of the lobbying visits I made along with my Episcopal priest and Methodist minister colleagues from Iowa, including appointments with the harried and youthful staff of representatives Boswell, Loebsack, and Braley, and senators Harkin and Grassley. You can ask me after the service which of these five elected officials is the only Iowan to not support the hate-crimes legislation…as if you need to ask.
Walking the halls of the offices of our representatives, the people who are elected to speak and act on our behalf, was more inspiring than I could have imagined. Not because I got to unexpectedly shake Ted Kennedy’s hand (Think what you want about the guy; I’ll admit to being a little star struck), and not because I discovered that “freedom fries” are no longer served in the senate cafeteria (No, I enjoyed good old “French” fries with my lunch). I was inspired as I walked the same halls as our representatives because these are special and important people to our country, whether they can muster up the courage and conviction to get much done for the citizens they represent or not. I was inspired to have the privilege of bringing my values to Washington, to add my voice to the mix of those who, as our founders intended, have every right to be heard as well. It was an honor to get to sing my song…a song I believe to be grounded in the same basic melody that has been a foundational ideology of what it has meant to be an American throughout the 231 years of our history as a nation: Equal rights for all. That this melody of equal rights, eloquently expressed by Thomas Jefferson in the Declaration of Independence, began when so many in this country, including Jefferson himself, still held slaves, when women couldn’t vote, when native peoples of North America were being forced from their homes, doesn’t take away its truth or its beauty or its hopeful vision of the future toward which we should be heading. Nor does the progress made over the last 231 years wipe out all the injustice that has gone before. Nor does it mean that we have arrived where our American political creed of “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” suggests we should be. The fact is the song of our nation begun with the Declaration of Independence is one that will not find its most complete rendition until the day when all in this country can sing its verses without irony or shame, and that day is still, I’m afraid, far in the future.
And yet, I still have hope for this land I love and its people. I still believe in the promise of this country. I still believe in America, the Beautiful.
Now, you need to know that I was nine years old in 1976, when our country celebrated its bicentennial. Just as I was beginning to understand that I was an American and what that meant, the country wrapped itself in its patriotic history as never before. I sometimes wonder if my exposure at such an impressionable age to this year of celebratory American self-love (when even the television networks broadcast snippets of positive history before prime-time shows) has led me to be more optimistic about our nation than I should be. For all our nation’s proclaimed values of equality and democratic ideals, an objective look through the history of the last 200 years will show that the U.S. has done its share of damage in the world…and the way things have been going lately, some of us cannot help but wonder if the ideals of the founders have been altogether lost.
I’ll admit, this burden of the reality vs. the promise of our country weighed on me as I made my recent trip to Washington. The events of the clergy call for justice helped, the way standing up for our values often can. However, the real transformation for me took place after the clergy call was over. We were released from the event around 4pm on a Tuesday afternoon and my flight wasn’t leaving until the next day. So I decided to do some sightseeing. After failing to gain entrance into the Holocaust museum (apparently it had closed early that afternoon for a party??) I walked over to the Jefferson Memorial. It’s been nearly twenty years since I last visited and read the quotes of our third president on its walls. Along with the excerpts from the Declaration of Independence, I read:
“No man shall be compelled to frequent or support any religious worship or ministry or shall otherwise suffer on account of his religious opinions or belief, but all men shall be free to profess and by argument to maintain, their opinions in matters of religion.”
I smiled and wondered why some still seem to need to debate this issue. It is carved in stone, after all.
Then I read:
“…laws and institutions must go hand in hand with the progress of the human mind. As that becomes more developed, more enlightened, as new discoveries are made, new truths discovered and manners and opinions change, with the change of circumstances, institutions must advance also to keep pace with the times. We might as well require a man to wear still the coat which fitted him when a boy, as civilized society to remain ever under the regimen of their barbarous ancestors.”
The soundtrack of my fellow clergy singing on those risers echoed through my mind.
Next on my walk came the FDR Memorial, a beautifully meandering path through waterfalls and red granite, with wonderful quotes from our thirty-second president around every corner.
Quotes like: "I never forget that I live in a house owned by all the American people and that I have been given their trust."
And… “The test of our progress is not whether we add more to the abundance of those who have much; it is whether we provide enough for those who have too little.”
And… “We must scrupulously guard the civil rights and civil liberties of all citizens, whatever their background. We must remember that any oppression, any injustice, any hatred, is a wedge designed to attack our civilization.”
And let’s not forget "I have seen war. I have seen war on land and sea. I have seen blood running from the wounded . . . I have seen the dead in the mud. I have seen cities destroyed . . . I have seen children starving. I have seen the agony of mothers and wives. I hate war."
And at the end of the memorial walk, the words of his wife Eleanor:
"The structure of world peace cannot be the work of one man, or one party, or one nation, it must be a peace which rests on the cooperative effort of the whole world."
I wandered around to the World War II memorial, where busloads of school children were playing tag on its stairs and in its basin. As the kids played, perhaps unaware of the sacrifices this memorial represented, I was thoughtful about all the people who had to give their lives to teach the world a lesson about fascism.
I then made my way past the haunting figures of the Korean War Veterans Memorial and on to the Lincoln Memorial, where I read again the words of the Gettysburg Address and Lincoln’s second inaugural address, succinct and meaning-filled speeches offered to a struggling nation during turbulent times.
As I approached the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, I paused for a moment to hear a tour guide explaining to a handful of fifth graders the turmoil our nation experienced during the Vietnam War. He spoke of how people didn’t like the war, and how many of them took out their dislike on the soldiers…how much the whole thing wounded our country, and how much we learned in the process. The kids and I were glued to his storytelling, to his objective retelling of a difficult time in our nation’s history…a time, in some important ways, not unlike our own. My eyes filled with tears once again as I realized what may be needed in our country right now more than anything.
My friends, our nation needs a field trip. We need a collective trip to Washington, to walk the mall, to recall the stories of our past, to see for ourselves, carved in stone, the wise words of our national heroes. We need to be reminded of what truly makes our nation great, even when our nation isn’t acting so great.
You see, my walk through the monuments of our nation’s past, these intentional celebrations of what we have revered in our leaders and learned from our losses, reminded me that no matter how out-of-kilter things seem at any given time in our nation’s history, whether during the time of slavery or during the great depression, during the rise of fascism or during times of war, both noble and not-so-noble, and even today, when there seem to be so many wedges separating us from one another, wedges of politics, economics, and religion, just to name a few, this nation has a history of overcoming that which divides us. Despite the low bar being set by our current elected officials, this nation has a history of our leaders truly leading us into the future by leading us back to the promise of our country and the hope that comes when we don’t forget the principles upon which our country was founded.
My walk through the National Mall and its monuments and memorials didn’t bring me down. It gave me hope. It filled me with respect for those who endured in their commitment to the kind of freedom we would all want to have. It reminded me of what is possible in this country, and why it is still possible. And it renewed for me my passion to do what I can to make the possible more likely.
And so, much to my surprise this July,
I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear…
And I know I, too, have a song to sing.
Just as each of us does by right of being American.
Just as we always have.
Just as, through equal parts diligence and grace, we always will.
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