Unity Church of Dallas - Rev. Karen Epps

Rev. Karen Epps
Senior Minister

Sons and Daughters

Generally speaking, I am the kind of traveler who attempts to minimize my wait at the airport by arriving as close to the flight departure as I think I can get away with. For those of you who travel, you know that guesstimating the airport security time is akin to predicting the weather – it’s anyone’s call.

This trip, I breezed through the checkpoint with enough time to grab a cup of coffee and a bagel. Having nearly an hour to spare I settled into my seat with said refreshments, glanced around, and noticed a woman standing nearby. Chewing thoughtfully, I observed her attire; white shorts, red top, straw hat and pom-poms in her hands. Looking down the terminal I realized she wasn’t alone. Other men and women similarly dressed were there, too. They seemed expectant. My curiosity piqued, I followed their gaze and saw the procession of khaki-clad figures approaching. She began waving the pom-poms and whooping. Several people arose and clapped; I wasn’t one of them. The scene assumed an almost surreal quality as I became, what the Buddhist tradition calls “the Witness.” I simply observed my surroundings while simultaneously becoming acutely aware of my emotional reaction.

I realize that the comfort of conviction others seem to posses escapes me. There are those for whom the subject of war is black or white; they’re either vehemently against or completely in favor. I am entangled in the web of uncertainty. Nuclear warheads in Korea, Mid-east peace process, strife in Iran, who belongs in Iraq? I am troubled as I wrestle to find answers that resonate with some modicum of Ultimate Truth. I have no clue where God lands on the subject and believe me, I wish I did.

Despite my ambivalence, I understand that religious pluralism which I so freely enjoy is the by-product of a hard fought battle against tyranny. One that was waged by a group of people convinced of the need for self-governance and who entered the battlefield giving birth to a nation they called the United States of America. These are freedoms I (who have never feared for my life, never lived under a bomb threat) am able to enjoy because I am lucky enough to be born stateside. Yes, freedoms that have been gifted; given by the sons and daughters who have lost limbs and their lives in support of this ideal.

On this particular day at DFW, there they were in front of me, the sons and daughters. Barely old enough to vote, to drink, to be done with school, yet because of their willingness to say, “Here I am, this is mine to do,” they walked past on their way back from their tour of duty or perhaps being shipped to their next posting.

Is it any wonder then that tears welled in my eyes? Because of them I can be ambivalent. For no matter what ideology one holds as true, when all is said and done, it’s about people. So yes, I stood, I clapped and I cried. I am grateful to them – the sons and daughters of the Most High.

As you go about your preparations for this weekend, I invite you to offer a prayer of gratitude for the freedom you enjoy.

Have a blessed Independence Day!
Rev. K

Message Date: July 1, 2009