Our family recently returned from an incredible 10-day trip out west to experience the five big National Parks in Utah (with the Grand Canyon in Arizona thrown in for good measure) to celebrate Audrey’s parents’ 50th wedding anniversary, which also happened to coincide with our nation’s 250th anniversary.
It was truly the trip of a lifetime and something we will cherish and remember for years to come.
There had been a burn ban in Utah for much of the summer, and up until a few hours before nightfall on the 4th, we weren’t sure whether the planned fireworks display in the neighboring town would happen or not. To our delight, word came down that the local fire department had gotten clearance, and the show was on. So we gathered along the main drag leading into Bryce Canyon National Park with a couple of hundred other folks to see what turned out to be an impressive display of pyrotechnics.
Fireworks were the icing on the cake, but the cake itself was the gift of celebrating such a special Independence Day at one of our National Parks.
For me—and I’m certainly not the first to say this; Ken Burns did so comprehensively in his documentary series—our National Parks capture so much of the best of the American project.
They showcase some of our most beautiful and delicate natural wonders, opening them to everyone and preserving them, not only for future generations to enjoy, but also, I believe, out of a shared understanding that the natural world is precious and sacred and deserves our care.
It is a profound act of stewardship, in the best sense.
It was also striking to see how this act of what Wendell Berry calls “loving care” for the earth is a gift received by the rest of the world.
While these parks are our national treasures, it often felt that we were outnumbered by international visitors. At every scenic overlook we shared as a family we heard the same awed reverence whispered in a dozen different languages. My young niece happened to sit down for lunch at the Grand Canyon next to a table full of French guests, huddled around someone’s phone at the exact moment their soccer team scored in their World Cup match, and all erupted in celebration. She couldn’t help but join in.
All of which somehow seemed to further put both the parks and our 250th anniversary in perspective.
Much as we love and hold them dear, the promise of America and the ideals we celebrate in our founding documents extend beyond the lives of Americans only. Our national story is rooted in what we understand to be universal truths, echoing the words of scripture about the equality of all people and the gifts “endowed by their Creator” meant for all humanity: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, among them.
We continue to steward these ideals, however imperfectly. We continue to work out “with fear and trembling,” as Paul put it, what it means to extend these gifts of the Creator to everyone. Yet we continue to preserve them for future generations, trusting that our children and grandchildren will love them as much as we do, and perhaps even understand how to steward them better.
And we do this also, I believe, out of a shared understanding that these ideas and convictions, same as any canyon or river or waterfall, are precious and sacred and deserve our best “loving care.”
It has been said that our National Parks are America’s “best idea.”
I love them dearly, but I disagree. They are majestic examples of how we put our best ideas into practice.
In a way, the hope of these natural sanctuaries is the same as the one we share here at Northminster whenever we gather for worship: that we would take all we witness and encounter here with us when we leave, so it would continue to shape our lives wherever in this land we would go.
SHD
