Freedom
There’s an elephant in the room, a donkey too, and even another if you include the Libertarians. How can I ignore this big election on this first day of November 2020? So, I’ll hit it head-on but — to use a spin-off word from the current Coronavirus environment — I’m going to be asymptomatic, i.e. manifesting no willful outward indication favoring any of the three above-mentioned entities. If one thinks otherwise, that one is reading it into my thoughts because I (no kidding) have absolutely no political party in mind as I write.
About two months ago Frederick Buechner — author, speaker, pastor — completely captured my attention with these written words: You never know what may cause them. The sight of the Atlantic Ocean, or a piece of music. A pair of somebody’s old shoes can do it. Almost any movie [or] a horse cantering across a meadow. You can never be sure [what will do it]. Buechner is speaking of tears. What he said next was what I’ve always felt but never heard it said and I’m too self-conscious to inquire of anyone. Whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected tears, it is well to pay closest attention. So, I began to think again about why my eyes teared up so “stupidly” in Kentucky years ago during Thunder over Louisville — a huge fireworks and flyover event at the Ohio River — marking the beginning of the Kentucky Derby festival. It happened to me when a Stealth Bomber slid silently by 300 feet above my head followed in seconds by the biggest, most shattering, earth-shaking roar I had ever heard. Then, even at a lower altitude — I clearly saw the pilots — came a formation of fighter jets that sounded like a thousand blast furnaces screaming across the sky. It was too much. I think I may have bawled out loud but I nor anyone else would have known it in the deafening din that was almost palpable. What’s wrong with me!?, I asked myself. Maybe I’m not getting enough sleep. Maybe I need therapy! What’s wrong with me?” Well, I found out last week.
I froze in our hallway lest I miss the news commentator’s story that had suddenly grabbed me. He was describing his experience at a ballgame years ago that exactly paralleled mine. If I had early on publicly put in writing what I wrote above I would have sworn he was plagiarizing. He described how the jet planes, low and far ahead of their sound, silently approached him, then suddenly were overhead followed by an indescribable, booming, ear-splitting roar. And he had the same reaction — a moment of uncontrollable emotion. And he, like I had, began to wonder about himself. “Then,” he said, “I later met a friend with whom I shared my unforgettable experience, and he told me what had happened. My friend told me I had heard the sound of freedom.” When I heard that, everything within me said, “Yes, that’s it!”
Freedom is precious, and like any precious item it’s rare, fragile, and costly. It’s like a garden, cleared out of the wild. It’s un-natural, endangered, and expensive to maintain. That’s the nature of a garden. By definition it’s in a merciless environment. My vegetable garden in Kentucky was carved out of tall native grass laced with thatched weeds that always threatened to move in and spoil it. And from below insidious roots from nearby trees would sneak in almost overnight to steal away the nurture I so painstakingly provided for my plants. The bugs and blight I constantly worked to repel took tons of energy and pounds of pesticide. This time-consuming, all-encompassing adventure was costly but worth it. Was it ever! The garden spoiled us. No tomatoes can ever match the taste of those tomatoes, or squash, or beans and I could go on and on.
So it is with freedom. A garden, if left unguarded or unkempt will disappear unnoticed into the landscape. That’s also the nature of freedom in a hostile world. Since the beginning of civilization freedom is a rarity. At present, out of 249 countries and territories in the world, 84 are considered totally free. And the cost? Just for America alone, the wars fought to preserve our freedom has so far created 2,852,901 casualties. Almost ¼ of those casualties occurred between 1861 and 1865 in our uncivil war which insured our Constitution’s guarantee that freedom would extend to every American regardless of race, color, or creed.
A recent news item showed three excited refugee men just crossing our border. When asked why they were seeking citizenship, they said in unison— “Freedom!” It reminded me of the novel children love, The Secret Garden. Why was this beautiful garden — a haven in the midst of a bleak English moor that brought health to all who entered it — kept secret? One reason: It’s pristine, restorative nature might be spoiled by those who don’t appreciate its existence. What election result will in the long run assure America’s freedom? I do not know, but I know in whose hands it is: Exaltation comes neither from the east nor from the west nor from the south. But God is the judge: He puts down one, and exalts another (Psalm 75: 6,7).