While the country celebrates our liberation from Britain, I celebrated the liberation of my poison ivy. Almost two weeks of sleep-interupting, skin-crawling, lotion-rubbing, pill-popping mania. And so today I will light my sparklers, I will eat my watermelon, I will enjoy my hamburger, because it is Independence Day - and I have been freed from the tyranny of poison ivy.
And as I celebrate (by myself) I wonder if the country even considers Britain as it enjoys its day of independence. Do we even care that we are no longer bound to Britain? I think we'd rather be under their rule, actually. They have influenced our pop culture more than we care to give them credit for. They do produce some fine foods (London Broil comes to mind). They even invented our language. We have much to thank them for. So why must we celebrate our departure?
I can't help but think that Britain is a bit resentful of this national holiday. If I were a Brit, I'd think that this day is one big middle finger directed at the UK. We take off work, we get an extra long weekend, we drink ourselves sick, we eat ourselves sicker, we watch fire works, we bathe in the glory of our freedom from Britain. They stand by across the ocean and overhear the laughter of our triumph. I would hate Independence Day, were I British.
A few interesting questions to ponder in light of our holiday:
What must we do with Romans 13 and the call to submit and obey our civil authorities?
What is the difference between fighting for our independence and all-out treason and rebellion?
Isn't freedom just a patriotically cloaked idol of our country? Freedom is autonomy, both of which don't exist. Furthermore, the ideas of freedom being disconnected from God and self-reliance are clearly revealed in Scripture as odiously sinful.
So what do we do if we consider Independece Day to be a glorified terrorist attack on the UK?
I have no clue. I'm not suggesting we stay inside while all the pagans celebrate. Heck, I'll be celebrating. And I'll be saying "heck" a great deal. But of course, my celebration will be for something much grander than our country's liberation from the Brits, it will be for the restoration of my skin.
Thus concludes the poison ivy saga. May that God-forsaken plant rot in hell forever.
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2 comments:
One thing the Brits have is Beefeater Gin.
But think about that - BEEF. The gin doesn't taste like any kind of cow product.
EATER - You may not know this, but you drink gin. Not eat. Gin is a liquid.
Beefeater Gin is the worst name ever for a gin. Gindrinker Gin would make sense.
Another gold mine, Jeremiah! Right on the nose too!! Gindrinker Gin! Whoever heard of such a thunderclap?!?!?
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