Mother of Exiles

I read a New York Times article today about the origins of the song “God Bless America”.  It was written by a man whose family had immigrated to America from Russia when he was a child in order to escape extreme danger.  The words about how he loved his country were straight from the heart of one who would have been lost (at least physically speaking) without her.   And it has me thinking a lot on this fourth of July about our country - how she began, where she has traveled, and where she is now.  The backbone of our nation was a belief that all were created equal and should have the freedom to live and worship as they please.  Equality is at our core.  And so is hospitality.  The poem mounted inside the Statue of Liberty exclaims:

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

              “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”  These words echo the meaning of the nation that began those many years ago.  The foresight of our forefathers that self-evident truth proved all men created equal and endowed by their creator with inalienable rights brings us back to the beginning.  Having faced persecution and danger, the inhabitants of our new land knew that what they had escaped was not life as God intended.  It was broken.  And, so, they set out to create a home that embodied freedom.  And welcoming immigrants who were fleeing treacherous situations was a key part of this mission. 

              We know that even in our early years, our citizens did not always live up to these claimed beliefs.  Just ask the American Indians.  Ask the African slaves.  Smell the blood of the civil war.  It is human nature to taste success and forget from whence one came.  It is the plot of many a good book or movie.  It is the life story of many a celebrity.  It is true for many of us.  And it is true of our nation.  It is entirely too easy to find oneself in a place of comfort and forget the place of discomfort that came before.  It is entirely too easy to become so entrenched in success that you lose the sense of who you are at your core – who you were created to be.  Once one who has struggled finds the pleasure of success, the human nature wants to do everything it can to hang on to that feeling.  One could argue that it is innate, this protective urge.  And in a society that thrives on individuality and the pursuit of individual happiness this package is easy to sell.  But that is when things begin to break.  When love of self becomes greater than love of all, our greatest ideals will be lost.  This is when the war erupts, the church collapses, the marriage fails.  When self-protection from perceived threats overshadows the desire to “lift our lamp beside the golden door” for the “tempest-tossed” we stray from lyrics like “Stand beside her and guide her” to lyrics like “We’ll stick a boot in your ass.  It’s the American way.”  And we wonder why we have enemies? 

              Many a middle-aged adult will realize that they have strayed from who they were, their ideals and beliefs, their living out of who God created them to be.  And they will search for those parts of themselves that were pure and inborn.  Any therapist will tell you that you must start at your childhood in order to arrive at a healthy adulthood.  And, hopefully before we finish this thing called life, each of us will find our way back to the peace of being an integrated person, connected to our beginning, middle, and present – aware of our successes and failures and resolute to move forward in a healthy manner.  In the same way, I dream that this great and beautiful nation will find herself in her roots.  I pray that as the debates get louder and the guns shoot longer, and the tempest-tossed weep at our shores begging for the oxygen of freedom - that we will look deep within ourselves.  I hope our “childhood” as a nation will remind us of who we were and what we stood for before we shifted our focus to all the things we stand against.  I pray that our citizens, who came themselves from immigrants long passed, will remember what life could be like for them today had not their ancestors entered this land.  I pray that our love of country will never outweigh our love of humanity.  May we find ourselves again in the far-off echo of a hand reaching out to the hurting and pulling them into community.  And may we hear that same echo in the voices of our youth who are actively seeking justice for humanity.  America is most beautiful when she wears a robe of diversity.  America is most safe when she seeks the welfare of humanity.  God bless America, land that I love.  Stand beside her and guide her through the night with the light from above.