The Home Row of Freedom

A manual typewriter keys remind us of what is not automatic

I’ve had a fascination with typewriters since I was three years old. I used to sit at my pastor-father’s manual Royal and pretend I was writing a sermon.


When I was in 8th grade, I audited a beginning typing class at the local community college. It was then I learned about the eight keys on the standard keyboard known as the “home row.”

In case you’ve forgotten, the home row of keys is comprised of ASDFJKL and the semi-colon. They are the resting position for your two hands. They’re like middle C on a piano. The home row serves as a foundation. They provide a perspective for your fingers as you type without having to look at the keyboard. Once your left hand and your right hand are oriented, you have a sense of security of where you are and where you’re headed.


With that orientation in mind, I’d like to consider those eight keys on this Independence Day weekend. Each of those letters stands for something foundational to our identity as a nation. They underscore what sets us apart. These qualities are the home row of our freedom. 


A stands for allegiance. Whenever we say “the pledge,” we vow our allegiance to more than the flag. We promise loyalty to the republic for which it stands. As we watch the Ukrainians resisting the Russians to remain independent, we see allegiance modeled courageously. What we see inspires us to a greater patriotism.

S calls to mind stewardship. When we sing America the Beautiful we are reminded of what lies beneath our spacious skies from sea to shining sea. The beauty of our country is ours to maintain and keep beautiful. We are the stewards. We are the caretakers entrusted to guarantee a litter-free, carbon-free future for our descendants.

D is for democracy. My Greek ancestors introduced the concept to our planet 2500 years ago. For the last 246 years we have carried forth the concept of self-rule. A government of the people, for the people and by the people is what makes our home sweet home as sweet as it is.

F stands for faith. Although we are a nation that insists on an appropriate border between church and state, we have always been a nation that has recognized a higher power and humbled ourselves with gratitude for the undeserved blessings of the Almighty. The fabric of our union frays to the degree we disregard God’s presence and sovereignty.

J is for justice. In spite of what we promise when we place our hand over our heart and pledge allegiance to Old Glory, we have failed miserably to insure justice for all. Nonetheless, the pursuit of justice remains at the core of our corporate conscience. Equal treatment under the law is the homefield advantage our constitution guarantees.

K calls to mind kinship. America has always been a family of people made up of individual families. We’ve been called a melting pot and an ethnic gumbo. We are a quilt of diverse cultures stitched together by the thread of a common dream. But that common dream does not denigrate our unique backgrounds. Rather, it celebrates them. Kinship is at our core.
 

L stand for Liberty. The gigantic statue in New York Harbor and the cracked bell in the City of Brotherly Love will never let us forget that liberty is at the heart of our identity as a free people. We fight wars on our own behalf and on behalf of others to protect the right to vote, the right to worship, the right to protest and the right to succeed. 

; The semi-colon reminds us of the fact that our story as a nation is still being written. According to Thomas Jefferson, the American experience is an experiment still being tested. Each Independence Day is an opportunity to reaffirm our commitment to the kind of country we desire to be as we keep our fingers on the home row. 

Life versus Love

A Supreme Court ruling has raised the bar of civil discourse

Lord of Life, Lord of Love,
whether we’re pro-life or pro-choice,
we’re amateurs
when it comes to disagreeing agreeably.
Help us learn to love our enemies as You taught.

Regardless of our views on when life begins,
may love begin anew each day
as we voice our opinions
without malice or spite.
May we resist attempts from either side
that would seek to abort
the spirit of Christ within us.

Protect us from killing one another
with words… or worse.

May Your Kingdom come.
May Your will be done
on earth as it is in Heaven.

Graduating from the School of Hard Knocks

Chalking up the lessons of life to the experiences of daily living

The School of Hard Knocks
some have called it.
It’s graduate school to be sure.
But to pass, there is no dissertation
or patenting some cancer cure.

There’s no quitting work to take classes.
And the homework is done all at home.
The alumni of Hard Knocks are famous
for how faith-in-action is grown.

You don’t have to write research papers.
There’s no need to go into debt.
What’s unique about this school of learning
is that life’s stormy waves get you wet.

At the end of some rope you’re left clinging
with nothing to do except trust.
And by trusting in One Who’s proved faithful,
your faith muscles bulge like they’ll bust.

With Thoughts of My Dad

From the time I was three I wanted to be like my dad

When I sit at my keyboard,
the sick are consoled.
Those troubled in spirit
are suddenly whole.

The grieving, encouraged.
The worried, relieved.
When I type “in the Spirit,”
God’s will is achieved.

If I asked how I learned how
to uplift the sad,
I know what to answer.
I credit my dad.

You modeled the comfort
the Scripture affords
when you translate God’s truth
into everyday words.

I miss you, Pop!

** I wrote this wee verse (based on the accompanying photo) for my pastor-dad as my Fathers’ Day greeting in 1999. The photo pictures me as a three-year-old sitting at my dad’s manual Royal typewriter in his church office in 1955. My dad passed away on November 4, 2008 at the age of eighty-two.

Summer Sundays

Summer getaways allow for creative Sunday worship experiences

Sundays in the summer
often find us missing church.
The family cottage beckons. Grandkids, too.
We’re hiking in the mountains
or we’re camping by the beach.
Time away is what we all need to renew.

And yet we still can worship
even when we aren’t at home.
There is cause to praise God in the great outdoors.
The backdrop of creation
prompts the lyrics of our hearts
as we dodge the rain or see an eagle soar.

On each Lord’s Day, let us seek Him.
In the silence He will speak
as we hear a call to worship from a lark.
Summer Sundays can be sacred
if we praise God where we are
near a campfire at dawn or after dark.