I just returned from an open air concert. Hosts from their lake front home, the owners fulfilled their dream to celebrate the founding of our nation, and the remembrance of those who gave their lives, or made more than ordinary sacrifices for it. Tomorrow is July 4, a day of national celebration with the overlay of gratitude to God for persons of faith. Although quickly organized, the program was excellent. The voices comprised a solid choir, and the local soloists were well chosen using excellent diction, control and conviction to communicate love for country and what they attributed to be the gift of God – a nation where freedom is vital to human meaning. The leader did not try to do too much in the short time available for practice and organization. The sound system was well voiced and carried out over the lake to the boaters who had been invited some days earlier for the occasion. The beach and the grass were well populated with neighbors who sat in beach chairs. Children were mobilized to carry soft drinks, coffee and pop-corn to anyone signaling interest in their polite offerings. Earlier and later the attendees greeted each other, stopped to talk for a few minutes, sharing the progression of their lives and families. The presentation was a goose bumps experience, and the musicians were roundly applauded. All was given with appreciative meaning and joy.
This is history, one minuscule spot in the immense projection of the nation. Most of published history tells stories of rulers, of the rich and powerful, of war and peace, of the movers and shakers of nations and the world. At this concert we have a vignette of what may be happening to families in the world. The best celebrations tell the story of simplicity, relationships, appreciation, aspiration, and life lived out in decency. Fifty years ago I left this community to extend the professional goals of my life. I had entered town as a college professor serving as an interim minister. I accepted for a six weeks period, and remained for five years, leaving for another college assignment several states westward. Decades passed, and I returned to this town for my retirement years. My wife is buried on yonder hill. I will be placed beside her when the appointed day arrives. Two of my four children, with their mates, have settled here where we now feel our roots have deepened. There are four generations here bearing my name to this community. Life is made good – or so it seems to me. We pray for peace, sustenance and love.
At the concert I shook hands with dear friends who were young and vibrant long ago. I officiated at various programs for them, especially performing marriages, dedications of their children, and funerals of their parents. Now they are white-haired, less tall than they were, and now retired. Most friends of fifty years past, are now deceased. One of the memorials was held the other day, and I was invited to note remembrance. I recall private times with some of these persons, ordeals they faced, sometimes with mixed results, and their growing spirituality. Here they went to school, honored their teachers, families, pastors and communities of neighbors. They married, had their children and worked at what their hands/minds found to do. Many went to church, sometimes failed their ideals, but in all, became better people hoping for the best in themselves and others. For my earthly transition, I find this to be a comforting and good life. I would not change the large painting of years. Certain events, of course, I would change, but the portrait is worthy for the gallery of life. The poor colorations have been retouched by God.
(PS – This Page, edited ten years from its writing, stands just as firm for me now as it did then. The above host, Eldon, and Jan 1, are now deceased. I officiated for their wedding nearly sixty years ago. The above hostess, Jan 2, lives on in God’s Amazing Grace.) *Mark W. Lee, Sr. — 2016, 2020