A Holiday Weekend
I can’t help but wonder if it is still possible to get the feeling that Samuel Smith might have had as he penned these words 179 years ago. And, I can’t help but wonder if these words can still generate a sense of patriotism like they did when they were first heard in a public performance July 4, 1832 in Boston.
My country ‘tis of thee
Sweet land of liberty: of thee I sing
Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim’s pride
From every mountainside let freedom ring.
My native country—thee
Land of the noble free thy name I love:
I love thy rocks and rills, thy woods and templed hills
My heart with rapture thrills like that above.
Let music swell the breeze
And ring from all the trees sweet freedom’s song.
Let all that breathe partake, let mortal tongues awake
Let rocks their silence break, the sound prolong.
Our fathers’ God to thee
Author of liberty, to thee we sing.
Long may our land be bright, with freedom’s holy light
Protect us by thy might, Great God, our King.
It seems to me that nationalism which lacks a reverent fear of the Holy One is very hollow. May our priority be the discovering and honoring of the quiet center of our lives. If we struggle with that priority, America will truly be blessed.
A prayer: God of this world, create a sensitive and seeking spirit within me and within all my brothers and sisters who live in this nation. Amen.
--Ben Keckler
07.01.11
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