Seven score and seven years ago (November 19, 1863)

Does the name Edward Everett ring a bell? In the mid-1800s, he was a Massachusetts Congressman and Senator, also governor of that state, served briefly as Secretary of State under President Millard Fillmore, and was a gifted and noted orator of his day. He was well-known—so well-known that in November of 1863, he was invited to be the keynote speaker at the dedication ceremony for the Gettysburg National Cemetery. Just four months before, a brutal three-day battle had taken place on the otherwise peaceful fields of this sleepy southern Pennsylvania town, a battle that would go a long way in determining the future of the war, and the future of our country.

Well, most of you know the story. As sort of an afterthought, President Abraham Lincoln was invited to also share a few words at this event. Everett spoke eloquently for about two hours. After this, Lincoln stood up and spoke for about two minutes. And in that brief period of time, he gave perhaps the most stirring speech in our nation’s history, the Gettysburg Address. Everett himself is said to have lamented that he had not expressed in two hours what Lincoln had conveyed in two minutes.

Lincoln delivered the Gettysburg Address on November 19, 1863—one hundred and forty-seven years ago today. Most of us readily recognize the first and last lines of the address. It begins with the iconic line “Four score and seven years ago” (although, in my history class lecture yesterday, several of my students were not aware of what a ‘score’ is in this context), and ends with the equally memorable “that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.” However, I am afraid that most people are not familiar with the large “middle section” of the address, and are equally unfamiliar with its overall purpose and meaning.

In short, the Gettysburg Address is a masterpiece. It is one of those works of art that gives me goose bumps regardless of how many times I have read it. I could probably write for hours commenting on its contents, and Lincoln’s brilliance, but instead I will try to keep my comments short and let the address, printed below, speak for itself.

Of all the salient points in the address, two jump out at me more than any of the others. The first is that Lincoln cited the proper foundation for his remarks: “Four score and seven years ago.” A score is twenty years. That means that Lincoln was referring to 1776, specifically the Declaration of Independence. Our county had been ripped apart by several sectional issues, the most prominent of which was slavery. It was THE hot-button issue of the day. You think health care, abortion, and border control are controversial today . . . well, slavery was worse. Compromises worked for a little while, but over the years, states and citizens became increasingly polarized and hostile. By the 1850s, Kansas had exploded into violence in what would be a precursor to the Civil War (known as “Bleeding Kansas”). In Washington, a southern senator beat a northern senator with his cane (many southerners responded by mailing this senator more canes!). In 1859, John Brown invaded Harper’s Ferry, hoping to incite a spontaneous slave revolt throughout the South. Then, of course, in 1861, the Civil War started. And it was, in a word, a bloodbath.

But in all this time, no president had forcefully enunciated that slavery was incompatible with the ideals upon which this country was founded. But in this speech, Lincoln begins by reminding us all that our country is based on the idea that “all men are created equal.” His ensuing appeal for a “new birth of freedom” in our land could only be achieved if it was placed solidly on this foundational idea. Compromises and half-measures would no longer work. Things after the Civil War could not, and would not, be the same as they were before the conflict.

The second point is that Lincoln makes it very clear that this address is not for the dead, but the living. In stirring fashion, he exhorted his audience—those who were still alive—to be dedicated to the task that the fallen soldiers had started. That task, in short, was for them to live lives that embodied the ideals upon which our country was founded, and to help ensure that all people could realize their inalienable rights. If everyone would do their part, our form of government would not “perish from the earth.”

Well, enough of my verbosity. But let me just ask this in closing: Is this “task” of which Lincoln spoke finished in 2010? You see, I believe that the Gettysburg Address applies to us as American citizens today just as much as it applied to Lincoln’s original audience. In my view, there are laws, Supreme Court rulings, and various practices that take place today that are not in keeping with the ideals upon which our country was founded. It is therefore up to me (and, I would suggest, all of us) to be dedicated to the (still) unfinished task that those soldiers at Gettysburg had “thus far so nobly advanced.” Lincoln was talking to a large crowd in 1863, but he was also talking to us.

I hope you enjoy reading and reflecting on the words of Abraham Lincoln:

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great Civil War, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated can long endure.

We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract.

The world will little note nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.

It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us, that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion,

that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

National Day of Prayer, 1776 style

Does prayer work?

On this National Day of Prayer in the United States, I think this is a very important and legitimate question to ponder. Because, if prayer works, we should not only be praying today, but every day. And not just “praying,” but PRAYING—on our knees, with enthusiasm, and with a sense of sincere humility and bold expectation. But if prayer doesn’t work, well, quite frankly, why bother? We all might as well go do something more productive.

It probably comes as no surprise to you to know that I think that prayer works. But let me explain this a little further. I believe that prayer works in two ways.

First, when we think of prayer “working,” we often think of God answering our requests in some miraculous way, such as a friend being healed from cancer. Requests like this are often, whether we say it this way or not, couched as desiring God to change His mind, or to change the course of current events. And this sort of answer to prayer does happen, both in biblical times and today.

But equally, if not more important, is the fact that prayer ought to change us. Prayer isn’t just our magic genie in a bottle, used to ask God for a new house, a new pool, or even the healing of a loved one. Rather, it is a mechanism by which we learn to submit to God’s authority over us, to humble ourselves, to realize our sinfulness, to beseech His forgiveness, and to set our minds on appropriate desires. As Jesus said as He prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane prior to His crucifixion, “Not my will, but yours.”

On this National Day of Prayer, 2010, I’d like to share an example from our history that I believe reveals both aspects of prayer described above.

In March of 1776, the Second Continental Congress, meeting in Philadelphia, was getting nervous. They faced one of those “what-have-we-gotten-ourselves-into” moments. Many were realizing that there was no turning back in our rebellion against England. Blood had already been shed at Lexington, Concord, and Bunker Hill. And many were saying it was time to declare our independence—a bold step that would no doubt invite significant British retaliation.

So on March 16, the Congress announced a National Day of Prayer. Here is an excerpt from the declaration:

The Congress therefore, considering the warlike preparations of the British Ministry to subvert our invaluable rights and privileges, and to reduce us by fire and sword, by the savages of the wilderness and our own domestics, to the most abject and ignominious bondage: Desirous, at the same time, to have people of all ranks and degrees, duly impressed with a solemn sense of God’s superintending providence, and of their duty devoutly to rely in all their lawful enterprises of his aid and direction–do earnestly recommend, that Friday, the seventeenth day of May next, be observed by the said Colonies as a day of Humiliation, Fasting, and Prayer; that we may with united hearts confess and bewail our manifold sins and transgressions, and by a sincere, repentance and amendment of life, appease his righteous displeasure and through the merits and mediation of Jesus Christ, obtain his pardon and forgiveness; humbly imploring his assistance to frustrate the cruel purposes of our unnatural enemies; and by inclining their hearts to justice and benevolence, prevent the further effusion of kindred blood.

What jumps out at me here is that this isn’t just a call for a “magic genie” prayer, as in, “God, please help us to beat those mean Redcoats.” Yes, that is part of it. But do you notice the emphasis on acknowledging and submitting to God’s authority? Do you see the clear call to use this day to change the minds of the American people, not just God’s mind (i.e. “repentance and amendment of life”)? Do you get the sense that this wasn’t just a call to say a nice little prayer next to a comfortable fireplace while enjoying tea and crumpets? It certainly wasn’t! The people were called to fast, to bewail, to humiliate themselves before God. This is prayer with a capital “P.” This is praying with gusto!

Now, notice that the declaration set May 17th as the National Day of Prayer. This was to give time to disseminate the news about the upcoming day. In fact, George Washington had the decree read to his troops, who were stationed at Brooklyn bracing for a British attack. On May 17th, he and his troops participated in this national day of humiliation, fasting, and prayer. And if anybody was in need of God’s providential intervention (i.e. the first way that prayer works, that I described above), it was Washington and his troops. Would God protect them in the coming days?

Fast-forward three months.

By August, 1776, circumstances were dire. The colonies had declared their independence in July, and England was not about to stand for it. The British, with the help of vicious Hessian mercenaries, had embarked on a massive invasion of New York City. They had landed on the southern tip of Brooklyn, and chased the American army all the way to the northern tip of the island, Brooklyn Heights. Along the way, they had mercilessly mowed down the Americans. Many Hessians shot the Americans in the back and killed them as they retreated.

By the end of August, Washington found himself trapped at Brooklyn Heights. In front of him, the British and Hessians were about to overrun what was left of his army. Behind him was the East River, and as he began to ferry his remaining troops over to Manhattan, the British fleet was sailing in to cut off his only escape route. Many Americans today don’t realize it, but at Brooklyn Heights, Washington was a hair’s breadth from being captured and forced to surrender his entire army. The American Revolution would have been over practically before it started.

But something unbelievable happened. Out of nowhere, an unexpected torrential rainstorm hit New York City, temporarily bogging down the British and Hessian advance. Then, an unusually thick fog set in over the East River. Because of this, the British fleet was unable to sail up the river to close the noose on Washington. By the dark of night, Washington feverishly shuttled his troops across to Manhattan. Finally, Washington himself stepped onto the ferry for the final trip. He and his troops had miraculously escaped, and lived to fight another day.

You know the rest of the story. The British regrouped and chased Washington through Manhattan. By the end of 1776, Washington ended up in Pennsylvania, on the banks of the Delaware River, where he pulled off a stunning surprise victory at Trenton. Then there was Princeton, Brandywine Valley, the bitter winter at Valley Forge, Monmouth, and yes, eventually, Yorktown. The army that was nearly destroyed at Brooklyn Heights survived, and in the end, we won our independence. A nation was born.

I have read several accounts of the Battle of Brooklyn Heights, written by esteemed historians. I find it very interesting that when discussing the rainstorm and the dense fog, they use phrases like “fate intervened” or “there was a serendipitous downpour.” Some even use the word “providential” with a small “p.” In other words, Washington was the beneficiary of good fortune, or luck.

But here’s my explanation of it. On May 17th, 1776, American colonists prayed. American colonists fasted. America bewailed its sins and begged forgiveness through the mediation of Jesus Christ. America humiliated itself before God. And three months later, in late August of 1776, God sent a storm and a dense fog over Brooklyn Heights, at exactly the right time. It was no coincidence. It was not luck. God reached down and saved America.

That’s what I think, anyway. I think that prayer works.

President’s Day musings

When I think of John Adams (one of my heroes), I normally think of the John Adams of 1776. In the crucial days leading up to July 4th, he was the undisputed “voice of independence.” While other delegates strolled in and out of Philadelphia, Adams was a constant. His speeches were passionate and persuasive. His expression of thought was crystal clear. His work was tireless (he was on a few dozen committees). He was unflinchingly insistent that declaring independence was the correct course of action. It was no doubt an exhilirating time in his life.

But 1797-1801 was a different story. During these years, John Adams served as the second President of the United States. And what might seem to us to be a pretty nice gig for the Revolutionary era hero turned out to be more of a nightmare.

First of all, Adams had the dubious task of succeeding the enormously popular George Washington (who had been elected to two terms by unanimous electoral vote). Washington was for the most part above criticism. But by the election of 1796, factions had arisen—Federalists and Democratic-Republicans—and the next president would certainly feel the full brunt of the scrutiny and ridicule of his opponents. Adams, a Federalist, was that man, and he indeed felt the fury of Democratic-Republican attacks.

Second, Adams presided over the first major international crisis that the nation faced after winning its independence. And as is the case in many crises, he found himself bereft of friends.

Here’s the crisis in a nutshell:

1. Rival powerhouses England and France were duking it out in the Napoleonic Wars.

2. Both countries took advantage of our young nation by harassing American ships on the high seas.

3. President Washington had declared our neutrality, and dispatched an envoy to England to arrive at a treaty to stop British harassment of our ships (Jay’s Treaty, for all you history buffs).

4. This treaty upset the French.

5. As Adams entered office in 1797, the French stepped up their seizure and confiscation of American ships, and considered declaring war on us.

What ensued has been termed the “Quasi-War” with France, an undeclared war that lasted from 1798-1800. The quasi-war consisted of tit-for-tat harassment of ships between the two nations. And while Adams ordered a speedy ramp-up of naval ship construction and general war preparedness, he held tightly to one important conviction: A conventional, declared war with France must be avoided at all costs. All-out war would cripple our fledgling, infant nation. We were just too weak.

Sounds reasonable, right? Well, as it turns out, in the politically polarized atmosphere of the 1790s, Adams soon found himself very alone.

Consider first his Vice President and old “Spirit of ‘76” buddy Thomas Jefferson. They were friends, right? Well, not exactly. Not at this point, anyway. Jefferson was actually a Democratic-Republican who opposed Adams and the Federalists on practically every major issue of the day. What’s more, while serving as Vice President, Jefferson wrote some pretty nasty things about Adams in letters to friends, and with a hidden hand orchestrated a smear campaign against Adams in the press.

(By the way, notice how President Adams and Vice President Jefferson were of different political factions. This was the case because back then, when electing a President, the second-place finisher became Vice President. Fortunately that has changed. Imagine, for example, if President Bush’s VPs had been Al Gore and John Kerry.)

What about his own “party,” the Federalists? Well, as Adams tried to walk the tightrope of preparing for, yet staying out of declared conflict, Federalists, led by Alexander Hamilton, began to beat the war drums rather loudly. And they too began to skewer Adams.

What about the American public? Sometimes a President can take his case directly to the people. Well, for Adams, there was no such luck. War fever swept across the country with news of French provocations (remember the XYZ Affair?) and fears of a thousand French warships coming over the horizon to invade American shores.

So, everywhere Adams turned, he was opposed. The Quasi-War with France ended in 1800, and all-out war had not been declared. But the whole experience was an extremely unpleasant one for Adams. On Inauguration Day 1801, when Thomas Jefferson was sworn in as our third President, Adams left Washington D.C. early in the morning, under cover of darkness, to return home to Massachusetts, miserable and dejected.

Oh—one more note about Adams and the Quasi-War. Nowadays, historians generally agree that Adams did exactly the right thing by avoiding war with France. By all reasonable accounts, a war with France—or any major world power—would have destroyed our infant nation that was just learning to crawl, let alone walk.

So, as they say, what does all of this have to do with the price of tea in China? Well, when I reflect on John Adams and the crisis with France in the 1790s, it reminds me that sometimes in life when you take a stand for what is right, you will be resolutely opposed from all sides. People who you thought of as friends all of a sudden won’t be. Those who you think would most assuredly agree with you don’t. Those who should be able to see the harmful effects of a bad course can’t. You stand vulnerable to undue criticism and even ridicule. And you suffer a lot of rejection and loneliness.

I admire John Adams for a lot of reasons. He was not a perfect man, nor a perfect President (the Alien and Sedition Acts of 1798 are a noted black mark on his presidency, for instance). But he certainly was one of the greats. This President’s Day, I am thankful that he was willing to “stick to his guns” under the most trying of circumstances, in order to, in a very real sense, save us from ourselves.

The most important word in the Constitution

“We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.”

The Preamble to the U.S. Constitution answers three important questions. The first is the “who” question. Who is the ultimate authority behind this document? The answer is “We, the People.” The Constitution does not come to us from fifty-five delegates in Philadelphia from the summer of 1787. It does not come from the Confederation Congress then in existence. It does not come to us from the individual states. It comes from those governed—"We, the People." It is a document from Us, stating how We shall be governed.

The second important question answered by the Preamble is “Why was it written?” In short, it was written “to form a more perfect union.” In the 1780s, our infant nation was on the brink of collapse in the chaotic aftermath of the Revolutionary War. This era saw economic depression and poverty, threats of rebellion among unpaid soldiers, an inability to get British soldiers off of our soil, an almost complete dissolution of the army, and massive dislocation from the war. Something had to be done before this fledgling experiment in liberty and “government by the people” perished before it really got off the ground. Therefore, the Constitution was written to establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, etc.

The third important question is: Who does this document apply to? What people are protected under this document that establishes a more perfect union? Again, the answer is given to us in the Preamble. It is “to ourselves and our Posterity.” But here we come upon a word that might not be immediately familiar. What does Posterity mean? It means those who come after us, future generations . . . those who are not yet born.

So it would appear that the first generation of Americans did not view the Constitution as a selfish means merely to safeguard their own rights, but rather as something that applied to future Americans too. The Constitution would apply to their children in 1820, and their grandchildren in 1850, and their great-grandchildren in 1880, and so on until 2010.

However, if this is true, then it doesn’t stop with us in 2010. If the Constitution applies to us, then mustn’t it also apply to those who come after us? The Constitution applies to Americans born fifty years from now. It applies to Americans born five years from now. And what about Americans who will be born five months from now? Or three months? Or eight months? Does the Constitution apply to them as well? It seems to me that the Constitution applies to an American in its mother’s womb just as much as an American in 1850 or an American in 2050.

Of course, our country has not always been equitable and consistent in affording Constitutional protections. Slaves had no rights for decades, and only began to gain those rights after the horrific Civil War. Women were not afforded the same rights as white men. Indians and other groups have likewise been slighted during our nation’s history. To our credit, though, our nation has, over time, to a large degree, been successful in mending these wrongs and seeking to apply Constitutional rights to all citizens.

We are approaching yet another anniversary of the Roe v. Wade decision of 1973 that legalized abortion in the United States. And, as usual, in the coming week we will all see news coverage of protesters on either side of the issue. On the one side of the street, we will see signs that say, “Abortion stops a beating heart” (which is essentially a factual statement). On the other side of the street, we will see signs that say “Keep abortion safe and legal” (This slogan, actually, is a bit problematic. Abortion may or may not be safe for a woman, be it from a physical or emotional standpoint, but I can absolutely guarantee you that abortion is never safe for a fetus.).

People can argue this issue from many sides and many angles. But I am persuaded more and more to ask: What gives our generation the right to decide which of our posterity gets to enjoy the blessings of liberty, and which of our posterity does not? What gives us the right to play fast and loose with the Preamble of our Constitution? Instead of learning from past mistakes and injustices, are we not just repeating them?

Thankful “for” and thankful “to”

As Thanksgiving approaches, it is once again time to be especially mindful and thankful for all that we have. Our safety and health. The safety and health of our family. The material blessings that we enjoy. Plenty of food. A job. The list goes on and on, and we are right to be thankful for all that we have. The word “thankful” sort of implies that we have things to be thankful for.

But it seems to me that the word “thankful” also implies that there is someone to be thankful to. If we are merely thankful for something, but not thankful to the one who provides it, then what’s the point in being thankful in the first place? You might as well just save your breath. For instance, it is right for me to be thankful for the clean socks that appear in my drawer every week. But they don’t just materialize out of thin air, nor are they delivered by the sock fairy. I am thankful to my wife for all of the little things she does to take care of me. I am thankful for something, and thankful to someone.

In my view, we all tend to be fairly good at knowing that we should be thankful for our blessings at Thanksgiving. But who are we supposed to be thankful to at Thanksgiving?

To help answer this question, I thought I would re-print the words of someone that I respect a great deal. This is called “Thanksgiving Proclamation.”

Whereas it is the duty of all nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey His will, to be grateful for His benefits, and humbly to implore His protection and favor; and

Whereas both Houses of Congress have, by their joint committee, requested me “to recommend to the people of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer, to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many and signal favors of Almighty God, especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness”:

Now, therefore, I do recommend and assign Thursday, the 26th day of November next, to be devoted by the people of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being who is the beneficent author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be; that we may then all unite in rendering unto Him our sincere and humble thanks for His kind care and protection of the people of this country previous to their becoming a nation; for the signal and manifold mercies and the favorable interpositions of His providence in the course and conclusion of the late war; for the great degree of tranquility, union, and plenty which we have since enjoyed; for the peaceable and rational manner in which we have been enabled to establish constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national one now lately instituted; for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed, and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge; and, in general, for all the great and various favors which He has been pleased to confer upon us.

And also that we may then unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations, and beseech Him to pardon our national and other transgressions; to enable us all, whether in public or private stations, to perform our several and relative duties properly and punctually; to render our National Government a blessing to all the people by constantly being a Government of wise, just, and constitutional laws, discreetly and faithfully executed and obeyed; to protect and guide all sovereigns and nations (especially such as have shown kindness to us), and to bless them with good governments, peace, and concord; to promote the knowledge and practice of true religion and virtue, and the increase of science among them and us; and, generally, to grant unto all mankind such a degree of temporal prosperity as He alone knows to be best.

Given under my hand, at the city of New York, the 3rd day of October, A. D. 1789

George Washington

It is my opinion that every American should read this proclamation every year during the Thanksgiving season.