Independence Day: All in the Family
Rev. Louise Green
July 5, 2009
I have been thinking a lot lately about the tension between
the ideal and the real, in every aspect of living. Perhaps you remember Saul Alinsky’s Rules for Radicals, a book dedicated to
those who want to change the world, from what it is, to what they believe it should
be. That kind of vision is essential
for community organizing, or for the development of mission statements. However, we also have to come to terms with
where we actually are, before we decide where we want to go. Anywhere we look—this city, the nation or
planet, All Souls or the UUA, our families and friendships—there is a tough
disconnect between idealized hope and lived reality.
Around this time of year, I’m also engaged in inner
wrestling about Independence Day celebrations.
On the one hand, it’s inspiring to hear Jimmy Smits recite from the
founding documents of our country down at the Mall—I admire and aspire to the
ideal, the world as it should be. (Plus,
where else can you enjoy Barry Manilow, the Cookie Monster, Aretha, and the
Marines, all on the same bill?) On the
other hand, the more you know about the many histories of this nation (to name a few: the voices of American Indians, African
slaves, women suffragists, working class immigrants), the more complicated the
picture gets. That’s reality, the world
as it is.
Let’s take a few examples of historical contrast
today. The texts are from earlyamerica.com, in case you need to
brush up on your U.S. history!
Church bells rang out over
Philadelphia on July 4, 1776.... the Declaration of
Independence was approved and officially adopted by the Continental Congress...
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that
they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights,
that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”
World as it should be.
Yet, it’s always good to ask about any sacred text, what was left out
here? What passages didn’t make it past
the editors, representing those with the most power? We learn this on the website:
Two passages in Thomas Jefferson's
draft (of the Declaration) were rejected by the Congress — an intemperate
reference to the English people and a scathing denunciation of the slave
trade.
Uh-oh, world as it is.
The wealthy, highly educated, male participants in the Congress did not
want to insult all the English
people, which would have been bad for business, just King George III. As Saul Alinsky would have taught, organize
by polarizing on one person, and Thomas Jefferson does just that in the
Declaration of Independence. In
addition, the signers and future generations were unwilling to deal with the
horrific slave trade for another century.
The results of that delay, a futile attempt to erase the world as
it actually was, are still playing out to this day.
Going on, in one version of history we hear this:
Before the Constitution...there
were The Articles of Confederation…
Drafted in 1777 by the same Continental Congress that passed the
Declaration of Independence, the articles established a "firm league of
friendship" between and among the 13 states.
And an interesting quote from that
document:
“The better to secure and
perpetuate mutual friendship and intercourse among the people of the different
States in this Union, the free inhabitants of each of these States--paupers,
vagabonds, and fugitives from justice excepted--shall be entitled to all
privileges and immunities of free citizens in the several States.”
Well, now. Mutual friendship, privileges, and immunities among the people who
are free inhabitants, yet specifically excluding paupers, vagabonds and
fugitives from justice. As for
the American inhabitants here first, or those brought
to these shores with no freedom, they are simply never named.
Shifting to a different historical source, what else was
left out?
From The Wisdom of the Native
American, by Kent Nerburn:
The Five Nations…formed the Iroquois Confederation long before Columbus
set foot on America…their constitution was used by Benjamin Franklin as a model
for the Articles of Confederation.
And from that Constitution
of the Iroquois Nations, two excerpts Franklin didn’t use:
Women shall be considered the
progenitors of the Nation. They shall own the land and the soil…When a
(leadership) title becomes vacant through death or other cause, the women of
the clan in which the title is hereditary shall hold a council and shall choose
one from among their sons to fill the office made vacant.
What were
the criteria used by Iroquois women to choose male leadership?
The (Leaders) of the Confederacy of
the Five Nations shall be mentors of the people for all time. The thickness of
their skin shall be seven spans -- which is to say that they shall be proof
against anger, offensive actions and criticism. Their hearts shall be full of
peace and good will and their minds filled with a yearning for the welfare of
the people of the Confederacy. With endless patience they shall carry out their
duty and their firmness shall be tempered with a tenderness
for their people. Neither anger nor fury shall find lodgement in their minds
and all their words and actions shall be marked by calm deliberation.
You really
have to wonder how things might have gone differently if Mr. Franklin had let
the Colonial women chose the
delegates to the first Constitutional Convention, or maybe the first few U.S.
presidents! Just
saying. It seems to have taken
until 2008 to get a President with an Iroquois temperament…
As we know, our new U.S. Constitution went a different
direction. Delegates to the “world as it
is” Convention signed the Constitution in September, 1787, in Philadelphia,
stating that:
“Representatives and direct Taxes shall be
apportioned among the several States… according to their respective Numbers,
which shall be determined by adding to the whole Number of free Persons,
including those bound to Service for a Term of Years, and excluding Indians not
taxed, three fifths of all other Persons.”
So we start with the number of free persons for
representatives and direct taxes, or actually the male free persons. Add in
those bound by indentured servanthood.
Subtract the Indians, who are not taxed, but not represented
either. Then add in three fifths of all
other persons, meaning that each slave is counted as less than a whole human
being. The world as it was in the new
United States of America, and not very pretty.
These are the true roots of this
nation’s family history—all there at the first Independence Day, along with the
great ideals of a young nation, a vision we have been living into ever
since. Because anywhere we look—this city, nation or planet, All Souls or the UUA,
our families and friendships—there is that inevitable disconnect between
idealized hope and lived reality. Those
who are included, and those who are left out. The voices heard, and the ones erased. The promise of what might
be, and the painful shortfall.
What we hoped for, and what we actually got.
Last night Jimmy Smits, the enthusiastic host of the
Washington July 4th festivities, said that the Declaration of
Independence might be called the “original audacity of hope.” I am not so sure about that. Perhaps the greater audacity was to assert
that “all men are endowed by their
Creator with certain unalienable rights, including life, liberty and the
pursuit of happiness” and, at the very same time, delete Jefferson’s
scathing denunciation of the slave trade.
What does it mean to hold these two things together, the world as it
should be, and the world as it is? And
most importantly, how do we find the creative power to make change towards the
“should be,” claiming the vision, even if acknowledging reality?
In The Art of
Possibility, from a chapter entitled“The
Way Things Are,” Rosamund and Benjamin Zander
suggest that our power to move comes from first acknowledging “what is.” They say:
When we dislike a situation, we
tend to put all our attention on how things should be rather than how they
are…When our attention is primarily directed to how wrong things are, we lose our power to act effectively. We may have difficulty understanding the
total context or discussing what to do next, or difficulty overlooking the
people who “should not have done what they did” as we think about a solution.
In other words, we become mired in the world as it is, by
incessantly comparing it to the world as it should be, thereby locking in our
suffering. All of our energy goes
towards the complaint, and little is left to explore solutions. We have all spent personal time periods in
this kind of tension: mourning the
marriage we were supposed to get, or the job we thought should have been
easier, describing the daughter who never lived up to imagined potential, or
the father who fell short of the parent for which we longed. And in this nation, we progressives have a
thick catalogue of what has gone wrong, even as we see the Independence Day
story we were taught in elementary school celebrated nationally. It’s vitally important to know those
histories, to broaden our view by including more voices. But beware the lists of grievance. For as the Zanders say, when our attention is primarily directed to how wrong things are, we
lose our power to act effectively.
Many centuries before the American
Founding Fathers, or the matrilineal Constitution of the Iroquois Confederacy,
an enigmatic writer in China called Lao-tzu, or “Old Master,” wrote the Tao Te Ching, around 550 B.C.E. Full of wisdom, and startlingly direct, he
patiently coaches his readers on accepting this world, as it is. Not so that we might stay there, stuck in
limitations, but so that we might have infinite directions in which to
move. I close with his words, translated
by Stephen Mitchell:
If you want to shrink something,
you must first allow it to expand.
If you want to get rid of
something,
you must first allow it to flourish.
If you want to take something,
you must first allow it to be given.
This is called the subtle
perception
of the way things are.
The soft overcomes the hard.
The slow overcomes the fast.
Let your workings remain a mystery.
Just show people
the results.
May it be so, that the world as it should be will emerge,
step by step, from the world as it is.
Amen.