Russ Dean: “You are loved. You are forgiven. So be at peace.”
When I started typing these words, I was sitting on the deck of my parents’ house at Lake Greenwood. They bought an 800-square-foot block cabin in 1977. My dad was a pastor with a parsonage, and my parents were interested in an investment in which they could earn some equity. They found it. Over the last 50 years we have renovated that original structure enough times that it can no longer be recognized and expanded it with enough square footage to sleep all the children and all the grands. Then the great-grands started coming along, and we were out of space again. (On Memorial Day there were two campers in the yard!) The framed sign in the den says it all, “This is Our Happy Place.”
We gather at the lake for Memorial Day and Labor Day and often spend The Fourth here. There are smaller gatherings throughout the summer. Last Friday night there were seven Deans there, if you count the two dogs (and, of course we count the dogs), for the annual Fourth of July fireworks show on the lake. We celebrated on July 2… go figure. At dusk we headed up the river to Camp Fellowship.
Everyone else who owns a boat on Lake Greenwood was already there.
We floated amidst a thousand other boating families for an hour or so as a local band played rock ‘n roll and we waited on a dark sky to set in. With the first boom, the sky exploding with dazzling color, one dog headed for cover, tail between her legs, the other perched on his haunches and oohed and aahed with us for the next twenty minutes. The show was spectacular. There were new patterns, designs in fire and color none of us had ever seen.
For twenty minutes, all was right with the world. Patriotic music boomed across the water. A thousand families, representing some of the beautiful diversity the country offers in race and religion, social strata and political ideology were all one in celebrating the moment, and loving what the moment celebrates. We cheered and sang along with Lee Greenwood as the show came to its grand finale, “…and I’m proud to be an American where at least I know I’m free…”
There is a lot of pride to claim.
The daring experiment of democracy, envisioned by our forebears so long ago, has been an engine of creativity like the world has never known. Coupled with the organic coincidence of history, the vision of democratic government has been a powerful force for change. The promise of The Enlightenment, the power of the Industrial Revolution, the vision of the Scientific Revolution, the expansion of Women’s Suffrage, the challenge of a Civil War and Reconstruction, the century of two World Wars and a New Deal in recovery and growth, the hope of the Civil Rights Movement… the evolution of our species, through change and challenge, has been a powerful partner for the democratic vision.
And, have no fear – that same dynamic is in play with the confusing and challenging forces at work today. Because the American ideal promises freedom, Me, Too and Pride and Black Lives Matter and Transgender equality all have their rightful places and are being woven into the beautiful fabric of our “garment of destiny.”
Not unrelated to all that remembering, celebrating…
Every Sunday that our congregation gathers for worship we practice a moment of Confession together. Periodically we have to explain that this time is not about guilt and despair (It is not.)… not about beating yourself up for being a terrible person (You are not.)… not about spending one minute every week dredging up the worst thoughts you’ve ever had about yourself. (Please do not.) It’s just a moment for reflection. But, honest reflection.
What have you done well? Where did you get it right this week? And… Where have you failed? Whom have you failed? What could you have done better?
Because we’re free, we can be honest – about the good and the bad. It’s true for individuals. It’s important for a nation. Because I’m “proud to be an American” I can claim the freedom to celebrate – and recognize that the deep challenges facing a divided nation today are evidence that we are not yet living up to the ideals of “liberty and justice for all.”
Accepting the responsibility of freedom means being free enough not to be too proud to look honestly at the failures along with the successes. As an individual. As a nation. We end each Sunday’s confession with what has become part of our liturgy: “You are loved. You are forgiven. So be at peace.”
But peace doesn’t come from sitting in a quiet sanctuary. It comes from making amends. There’s always work to be done. Confession is just the beginning. The fireworks are supposed to be the celebration of the never-ending work of forming “a more perfect union.”
(Dr. Russ Dean is a graduate of Clinton High School. He and his wife, Rev. Amy Jacks Dean, also a CHS graduate, are co-pastors of Park Road Baptist Church in Charlotte.)
