This time of year, I am always reminded of a sonnet I learning in Middle School. It is about the Statue of Liberty, and is on a bronze plaque on the pedestal of the statue:
"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to be free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
This being the weekend of Independence Day, I've had the idea of patriotism on my mind.
I've been whistling patriotic tunes; I've been reciting patriotic poems; I've been baking apples pies -- and more apple pies. I've been thinking of the blessings I've received because some 200+ years ago, my ancestors decided to brave the waters of the Atlantic to a place they had never known, so that they could start a new life. (thanks be to God)
Now I know that when we hear the word "patriotism" we immediately think of a sense of pride for one's country, as we should. But It is to a deeper understanding of patriotism, a selfless understanding, that I'd like to point to today. This type of patriotism is hard for us to understand unless we have had to test our resolve to remain true to the object of our patriotic feelings.
--- Our first reading from Zachariah, Chapter 9, is for me a passage of patriotism.
It speaks of the leader of the nation as a "just savior" who "banishes" the enemies might and "proclaim[s] peace" by having "dominion … from sea to sea, and … to the ends of the earth."
This type of patriotism could be found in the very marrow of the Israelite people;
it was a part of their religious as well as political expression. It was a patriotism focused on a HOPE that they would receive a king who would deliver them from their foes; a "LORD" who was "faithful in all his words and holy in all his works"(see psalm).
Like any patriotism we are familiar with, this expression was based on relationship and love:
a love for one's community and one's leader; a love based on trust.
--- In our second reading (Romans 8), St. Paul speaks to how one is able to maintain that trust.
What is important to remember, however, is where St. Paul sees that this patriotism ought to be founded. With the distinction between the Christian religion and the ruling government of his time, Paul speaks to how our patriotism should ultimately be based in our homeland to come, It does not diminish the patriotism we owe to our country, but simply places it in a proper so that we yearn for that heavenly Jerusalem for which we are all, as members of the Body of Christ, destined. In addition, it is based on the love that is to be found in the community of the Church, the family of Believers, with Jesus Christ as it's leader, but even more intimate than that, its head.
Here Paul tells us that we are not to live "in the flesh" but "in the spirit." When we live in the spirit, that is, the "spirit of Christ" -- the spirit of the Church -- we will have no fear of dead's sting.
Our spiritual fatigue and poverty will be irradiated; our huddled frames, bowed down in fear, will be freed by God's saving power; our wretchedness due to sin will be cleansed in the light of grace shed upon us from the lamp of Christ's Sacred heart, aflame with love for each and every one of us.
The idea of living in the hope of the spirit leads us to our Gospel for today. Selfless patriotism, based on trust and love, culminates in answering that same trust and love with the freedom to live; to live as has been promised by our creator. We see this expressed best in two simple sentences from the Gospel: “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest... For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.” As I read these words, I am reminded again of the sonnet I began this homily. This beautiful sonnet speaks of the hopes of millions who have braved exile, defeat, and persecution to reach a land that has been promised to them to be a land of opportunity.
But it also speaks to the real human condition; a condition that is tired, poor, huddled and wretched, homeless and tossed by the tempests of life.
Like any good bit of poetry, this sonnet speaks to a deeper reality. It speaks to the hope of the navy seal reeling from his tattered limbs and bleeding body that his sacrifice will save the lives of others;
it speaks to the hope of the single mother barely getting by that her sacrifice of health and youth will provide a better life for her children; It speaks to the hope of the 8 year-old boy from Honduras, that his sacrifice of homeland and family will lead to a happier future, without war and fear; it speaks to the hope of the old, tired priest with arthritis crippled hands and failing sight that his sacrifice for the sake of the kingdom will help bring one soul -- just one -- into the loving embrace of Almighty God.
It speaks of a real patriotism for a land of real and everlasting freedom that cannot be taken from us,
because it has been given to us at the cost of the Blood of the Lamb, the Son of the Father, Jesus Christ.
I would like to leave you with this sonnet again, and as I recite it, I would ask that while you listen, you be attuned to two things: First, the surface reality of the poem, that is, the patriotism we owe to our country; but secondly, the deeper meaning that we as a Catholic family gathered at this altar ought to readily recognize.
Listen to what Lady Liberty has to say to those who seek her aid, but also see -- with you minds-eye -- Who Lady Liberty points to in her words:
"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to be free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
(pointing at the tabernacle) I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
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