This week has felt like a reckoning, a jarring collision of stark realities that define our America – flaws and all. We’ve witnessed unsettling defenses of unimaginable acts alongside glimmers of accountability, a chaotic dance of contradictions that, strangely, feels uniquely American.
The echoes of recent events – from troubling justifications to the unfolding of long-hidden truths – have stirred a deep searching within us. Are these trials, these exposures of weakness, a necessary stress test for our democracy? Can we honestly assess our own role in fostering a culture of celebrity and accepting vast inequalities?
Amidst the turmoil, a quiet strength emerges. It’s visible in the dedication of public servants, many born on distant shores, who demonstrate competence and courage in service to this nation. It’s a powerful reminder that true representation lies not just in institutions, but in the unwavering commitment of its people.
Compassion hasn’t vanished. It flickers in the acts of citizens who stand against injustice, who challenge oppressive forces, and who raise their voices in support of those seeking refuge within our borders. These are not passive gestures, but active declarations of a better future.
Reflecting on these complexities, my thoughts turn to a book my son, Mike, published years ago – a deep dive into the philosophies of Emerson and Ellison. His work explored how America itself is a constantly evolving “text,” its meaning shaped by our collective choices and the power of language.
Emerson believed that to truly understand a principle, you must *become* it – a “Declaration of Independence walking.” He saw language not as fixed, but as fluid, capable of remaking social possibilities. This idea resonates deeply now, as we grapple with narratives and truths.
Ellison recognized that American culture isn’t a singular entity, but a vibrant improvisation born from the blending of countless voices and traditions. Our language, he argued, is a dynamic instrument, enriched by the “dissonances” of diverse influences from across the globe.
He described the American experience as a constant interplay between past, present, and future – a collaborative creation of history. Like a jazz musician, we are always playing “within and against the group,” constantly redefining the ensemble and the community it represents.
This week has demonstrated that we are not static. Change is in motion, a “fluxions and mobility” that offers both challenge and opportunity. The work is far from over, but that shouldn’t diminish our resolve.
My son’s book concluded with a powerful call to action: “An emancipated pragmatism happens whenever and wherever a creative mind or community of creative minds engages in democratic symbolic action.” These aren’t just words; they are the values that will shape our future.
As Ken Burns has observed, the American Revolution remains a pivotal moment in history. And this week, the US Conference of Catholic Bishops, by boldly supporting immigrants and challenging injustice, stepped directly into that ongoing revolution – with faith and with courage.
This Thanksgiving, let us remember that our nation is a work in progress, a continuous act of creation. Let us embrace the complexities, the contradictions, and the enduring power of democratic action.
