Fireworks, Family, and the Stories That Claim Us
When I think of the 4th of July, I think of my childhood.
Growing up, the 4th of July meant going to grandpa’s “up north,” which is Michigan code for a rural, wilderness vacation. It meant riding 4-wheelers through the woods, exploring old abandoned houses, eating peas off the vine with cousins, a big family reunion on the shores of Lake Huron, complete with an all-family softball game, and it meant a lot of illegal fireworks. To me, the 4th of July is about roaming free, danger, boredom, wilderness, cousins, food, noise, and not much supervision.
I remember the year the mortar tube fell over and sent us all diving for cover as fireworks erupted all around us.
But as I think back, these stories also carry a lot of brokenness. They contain alcoholism, racism, sexism, and vicious arguments. And the reality is that both sides of these stories shaped me.
We don’t often think about it, but we live in stories, they shape how we think about ourselves, others, and the world we live in. And many of those stories started in our childhood, when we just accepted them as normal. We have stories about our bodies, our identities, marriage, parenting, work, money, and everything else… including our country and the 4th of July.
Part of growing up in the United States is that our nation tries to drape the flag on a lot of our personal stories: holidays, sporting events, apple-based baked goods. Maybe everybody thinks their childhood was quintessentially American. My childhood-informed American Story is wild, free, and risky, family-oriented, a little podunk and trashy, and has some very destructive through-lines. There are things that need to be both celebrated and grieved.
The danger is that when the national story gets wrapped around our family, communal, and religious stories, it can start to feel sacred, and then critique can feel like a critique of everything we love.
However, despite both the good and bad that’s found in the individual and national stories that live within us, they are only pieces in our true story. I am certainly shaped, for better and worse by my 4th of July stories. We are certainly shaped, for better and worse by our national story.
But the primary story we live and breathe and have our being in is the story of Jesus. It’s the story that God is pulling the world and the universe towards goodness, and peace, and wholeness. It’s the story that God is always on the side of the vulnerable and powerless (which can be complicated for those living in a very powerful nation). And it’s the story of Jesus establishing God’s Kingdom here on earth.
That’s the story that our smaller stories, both of beauty and pain, live within. We are children of God and followers of Jesus long before we are Republican, Democrat, or even American.
So I celebrate the 4th of July. I remember my childhood memories up north fondly. They are a piece of my story. But they are not the through-line of my story and they are not where my story ends. They are a part of me, but they are not lord over me.
Grace & Peace,
Kim Herbert
LFPPC | Director of Youth & Family Ministries | 206.300.5648 | kim@lfppc.org