There we sat, all eight of us, a rather peculiar sight, I might add, all in a row, 3-D glasses perched on our noses, waiting for The Rise of the Guardians. Unexpectedly (for me, at least), an announcement showed on the screen. I’d never seen this in a movie theater…EVER.
Please rise for the National Anthem.
Seriously? I looked around. No one else seemed to be in question. Everyone rose. Cool glasses came off. Hands went over hearts. There in Sharky Theater, Pearl Harbor, the theme of our nation played, a background of music to a waving flag, battleships, submarines, military formations, pictures of warrior men and women, America’s unsung heroes. There I stood, as my eyes began to fill, with other warriors and their families, who did not even once question the playing of the anthem before a movie. Military to the core, this is a community who understands that the right to assemble is a gift. This is the right they have left families, traveled to foreign soil, and sacrificed days, weeks, months, and, even years, away from their children to defend. These are days, weeks, months, and, years they can’t get back – not EVVVVVV…………ER.
There in Sharky Theater, Pearl Harbor, where some days and 71 years before, freedom was shattered by the sound of bombs dropping, something in me began to stir. Was it national pride? No – somewhere within a radius of miles, our President was on an expensive holiday, a fiscal cliff looming, and another American right in embattled question. We are living in an age of entitlement. Entitlement which corrupts the purity of hand-over-heart-sacrifice. Was it nostalgia? Maybe – no question, I see a different America than the one in which I grew up. Was it the blessing of having sent a son to war, who returned when others didn’t? Certainly, that was a part of it. Yet, I couldn’t quite put my finger on what was stirring. Not until days later, when we gathered in an outdoor venue to worship. Picture it: Church. Outside. Mega-audience.
Less than two weeks before, we were in Cuba. There, under the banner of another form of government, the authorities frown on large gatherings who worship together. You might get away with it…once, but never twice. We were warned after an evangelistic crusade, where about 3,000 turned out, that we had a one-night shot. If we were to try another gathering again, the authorities would be on the church’s doorstep. This kind of meeting would never occur weekly. So, when, on our way home from church, out of the blue, our son made one comment, “In spite of all our problems, we are still the greatest nation on earth,” the reason for the stirring came clear. We are a nation with problems – big ones. Yet, we are still a great nation. We are still free to gather and worship (or watch a cartoon as a family), to bear arms for the purpose of defense, to speak truth without fear… That’s why in the middle of a movie theater, men and women held heads high, with hands over hearts, honoring, while our nation’s anthem was played. Of course, we could interrupt our lives for a few minutes, just to remember. Why wouldn’t we? We are blessed with certain unalienable rights; rights they fought to defend; rights we, the general public, often take for granted. Not there, however…NEVER there…NEVER on a military base…NEVER among the men and women who “get it, because they have lived it.” There is not even a whiff of the smell of entitlement – not there. NEVER THERE.
That is what stirred inside me that afternoon. It was the smell of the purity of FREEDOM – freedom without entitlement. I had forgotten what it smelled like, amidst the decay and corruption of this thing called politics. Can I just say, it smelled GRRRRRRRREAT (and, a little bit like popcorn).
———————————————————-
A good reminder:
First of all, then, I urge that entreaties and prayers, petitions and thanksgivings, be made on behalf of all men, for kings, and all who are in authority. In order, that we may lead a tranquil and quiet life in all godliness and dignity. This is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Savior.
1 Timothy 2:1-3