Before
articulating my reservations, I want to be clear that I understand that since
their invention in Asia, fireworks have been instruments of celebration and joy
for centuries. Spectacular aerial color displays evoke oohs and ahs and loud
bangs and bottle rockets in back yards thrill amateurs. Warnings about
dangerous eye and hand injuries begin to appear right after Christmas and Flag
Day. Yet, every year emergency rooms are crowed with accidents. Having had dogs
who hid in the bathtub at the first bangs of New Year’s and Fourth of July, I sympathetic
to the suggestions to be sensitive to animals in fireworks seasons.
I
am sure I heard The Star Spangled Banner
at things like sporting events when I was younger, but my first memory is
learning it in junior high orchestra to play at the opening of concerts. As a
percussionist, I enjoyed getting the cymbals for the big crashes between
phrases. That seemed to express “the bombs bursting in air.” At about thirteen
years old, I began to associate the line about rockets’ red glare and bombs
bursting with Fourth of July fireworks. Through my adolescence this association
grew into some misgivings about what we were celebrating. Was it the joy of
independence from Britain or was it bragging on US military power? As my peace
ethic formed as a young adult, I became increasingly uncomfortable with
fireworks as a celebration of war, but I have no interest in debating my
thirteen year old observation about fireworks.
Though
a few freelance fireworks were set off in our neighborhood this year, several
of the local official fireworks displays in our area were canceled this year
due to wet weather. The dogs, my wife, and I noticed and appreciated a quieter
Fourth of July. Which got me thinking again about the significance of the way
we celebrate a number of historical events.
This
year I noticed something else for the first time that took my Fourth of July
pondering in a parallel but different direction. On social media a number of
people posted a variety of messages with the theme of: “Your holiday weekend
was brought to you by citizens with guns.” These were clearly positioned as
pro-gun rights messages. Though my values do not share that perspective, I
believe they are right. Guns, war, and violent force as means of achieving goals
and resolving problems have been intrinsic to US history from the founding of
the country.
What
made me particularly uncomfortable is the connection between the proliferation
of all sorts of firearms in our time (that would have been unimaginable in
1776) with the celebration of US independence from Britain. I cringe at the
increasing rhetoric that suggests and even seems to welcome and promote armed
resistance toward those whose perspectives and behaviors feel threatening.
While I don’t want to debate a compare and contrast between Black Lives Matter
and the events of January 6, 2021, violent force figures in those and other current
movements.
As
a society we seem to be moving past violence on the margins to advocating
violence in the mainstream calling for an armed revolution. As a US citizen,
such attitudes and rhetoric cause me to question the future of our country. As
one who aspires to follow Jesus on the path of peace and even love for enemies,
I am compelled to distinguish myself from the advocacy of violent force. I am
not objecting to fireworks or guns per se, but I believe I am discerning a deep
moral disease eating away at not only the US but the witness of those of us who
bear the name of Jesus.
