Independence Day

A Homily For Independence Day, July 4th

Mr. Timothy Wilson, Postulant for Holy Orders

Today, across our nation, flags wave and anthems rise. Barbecues are lit, fireworks are prepared, and across the land we hear the words, “Happy Independence Day.” It is right, in its own way, to mark a day when a people affirmed their desire to live free, and to govern themselves. But for the Christian, and especially for us who worship according to the ancient pattern of prayer, the day takes on a deeper and more searching tone.

Our Collect thanks God, not man, for the liberties we enjoy. It reminds us that freedom is not self-made, nor finally sustained by arms or constitutions alone, but by the mighty power of God, working providentially through the virtues and courage of those who came before us. But the Collect also contains a warning: liberty must be maintained in righteousness and peace, not merely preserved.

Did you notice how the language is careful? It does not ask God to make us rich, nor victorious, nor feared. It asks for grace, not brute strength or clever politics, but grace, grace to maintain liberty, in righteousness and peace. And that phrase turns our minds from the fireworks of national pride to the quiet fire of moral responsibility. It reminds us that true liberty is not simply a birthright; it is a stewardship.

This, too, is the concern of the Scriptures we have heard today. From Moses to Isaiah, from Jesus to the apostles, the question is always the same: What does it mean to be truly free? What does it mean to be a people under God?

The Epistle, taken from Deuteronomy, speaks to a newly liberated people…Israel…who have been delivered from slavery in Egypt and are being taught how to live in freedom. But what does God emphasize?

 “The Lord your God is God of gods, and Lord of lords, a great God, a mighty, and a terrible, which regardeth not persons, nor taketh reward.”

Here, Moses reminds the people: your God is holy. He is not flattered by kings or impressed by power. Rather, He “executeth the judgment of the fatherless and widow, and loveth the stranger, in giving him food and raiment.” In other words, the mark of a godly people is not in their conquest, but in their compassion.

This is the challenge for any nation that claims liberty: Will it use its freedom to build a society where the weak are protected, the stranger welcomed, and the powerful held accountable?

The prophet Isaiah, in our OT Lesson reading, declares:

“We have a strong city; salvation will God appoint for walls and bulwarks… Trust ye in the LORD for ever: for in the LORD JEHOVAH is everlasting strength.”

What is the true defense of a people? Not battlements or military pride, but trust in the Lord, and righteousness among the people. Isaiah says:

“The way of the just is uprightness: thou, most upright, dost weigh the path of the just.”

God weighs our paths, not just as individuals, but as communities, as nations. It is not enough to have declared independence from an earthly king if we live in rebellion against the heavenly one.

Here, we are brought to the heart of the matter…and it is Christ Himself who speaks it. In the NT lectionary reading from St. John, Jesus says:

“If ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples indeed; and ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”

The crowd replies with what must have sounded to Jesus like a tragic joke:

“We are Abraham’s seed, and were never in bondage to any man.”

Never in bondage? Had they forgotten Egypt? Babylon? Rome, in fact, whose soldiers most likely stood within earshot of that very conversation?

This, my friends, is the same delusion that afflicts many nations…including our own…I’m sad to point it out…that because we have laws and rights and a long history of political liberty, we believe we are truly free.

But Jesus bids us to look deeper: (reminds me of the movie The Lion King where Rafiki knocks Mufasa on the head as he’s peering into the  water at his reflection, and Rafiki says, “Look Harder!”

Jesus says, “Whosoever committeth sin is the servant of sin… If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.”

This is the uncomfortable truth of the Gospel. Freedom is not merely political. It is moral. It is spiritual. A nation can have freedom of speech and still be enslaved to falsehood. It can have freedom of religion and still be captive to idols. It can have freedom of the press and still fail to know or do the truth.

St. Augustine, writing in the twilight of the Roman Empire, saw this clearly. He knew that earthly kingdoms rise and fall. He watched Rome burn. But he distinguished between what he called the City of Man — built on pride, self-will, and domination — and the City of God, whose citizens love God above all and live as pilgrims and strangers in the world. According to Augustine, all of human history is a tale of two cities: “The two cities,” he writes, “have been formed by two loves: the earthly by the love of self, even to the contempt of God; the heavenly by the love of God, even to the contempt of self.” Which city does America belong to?

The truth, of course, is complex. The two cities are intermingled in time. The United States has been the site of both remarkable virtue and grievous sin…

And here is the paradox: we love our country best when we love God more than our country. St. Augustine warns against the disorder that comes when nations mistake liberty for license, or when love of self takes precedence over love of God. We love America rightly not by treating it as perfect, nor by ignoring its sins, but by praying for it, working for its justice, and offering our lives not to its glory, but to God’s. Augustine critiques Rome for idolatrous self-glorification, showing how even the most advanced societies fall when they make themselves ultimate. As Christians, we must always be wary of turning the state into an object of worship.

St. John Chrysostom, in his homily on Acts 1, writing from a city that claimed the title “New Rome,” reminds us that our truest citizenship is in heaven. He says, “We are not here for citizenship but for a journey… The city is above. Our life is there. Our citizenship is there.” And again: “He who is a Christian is not the citizen of any particular city, but of the whole world.”

He is not implying that we retreat from civic life. Far from it. Our Church Father, in his homily, meant and intended for us to engage it with humility and integrity, seeking the peace of the city in which God has placed us, but remembering always that we are part of a greater kingdom.  

A July 4th worship service is a public theological act: it says to the surrounding culture, “We are grateful citizens, but we are God’s people first.”

It offers a vision of patriotism that is accountable to divine justice — a patriotism tempered by humility, charity, and future hope.

And so, when Jesus commands in today’s Gospel from Matthew:

“Love your enemies… pray for them which despitefully use you… that ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven.”

He gives us the mark of those who are truly free. Free to forgive. Free to serve. Free to love even when the world hates. Free to walk in the path of our crucified King.

This is the liberty we pray for today. Not merely the liberty won by arms, but the liberty purchased by the blood of Christ…the freedom to become what God made us to be: holy, just, and merciful.

And this liberty, once received, must be maintained in righteousness and peace. It must be guarded in the home, in the court, in the pulpit, in the voting booth, in the silence of the heart, and in the loudness of public discourse.

So, today, let us give thanks for the blessings of our earthly country. Let us pray for her leaders, her people, her peace. Let us repent of her many sins and ask for mercy. But let us not forget that the truest act of citizenship we can offer is not merely casting votes or raising flags, but kneeling at the altar of God.

For here, at this Table, we come not as Americans or strangers, not as rich or poor, not as powerful or weak, but as sinners redeemed and made one in Christ. Here, in this Sacrament, we are drawn out of every earthly division and made citizens together of the heavenly kingdom.

Here, the bread we break is not the bread of nationalism, but the Bread of Life. Here, the cup we bless is not a toast to independence, but the chalice of Christ’s own Blood—the new covenant poured out for many, for the forgiveness of sins.

And this is the deepest freedom: not merely to do what we wish, but to become what we were created to be — a people gathered, forgiven, sent, and sanctified in Christ.

And now, as we prepare to come to this altar today, let us bring our nation with us, not to place it above God, but to lay it before Him. Let us offer our country, with all its gifts and all its wounds, into the hands of Him who rules with justice and heals with mercy. Let us offer our own lives, in sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, that we may be instruments of His peace and heralds of His Kingdom.

 For if we continue in His Word, then we are His disciples indeed. And we shall know the Truth. And the Truth shall make us free. Free indeed. And that freedom we receive most perfectly here: in the holy mystery of the Body and Blood of Christ our Lord. Amen+