A Spiritual Awakening

Please note: This is a lengthy one, so settle in with your popcorn and M & Ms, and consider a pre-reading potty break.

"I have lived a long time, and the longer I live, the more convincing proofs I see of this truth: that God governs in the affairs of men. And if a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without his notice, is it probable that an empire can rise without his aid?" - Benjamin Franklin



I consider myself a person who is always in pursuit of the light of liberty. More than 200 years ago, a simple Patriot dream transfigured a new birth of freedom upon the American people. Insightful and inspired leaders broke the bonds of slavery as they rallied together as a brotherhood, a united weapon in the treacherous and life-endangering battle against tyranny. As citizens of this great nation today, we continue to extol bounteous blessings from the forethought and resolve of our nation's "fathers". Their souls were filled with a light so radiant that no earthly force could extinguish it. Their mission was not only one of prophecy, but of courage, hardship, sacrifice, and determination. I never want to forget this; I never want to fall short of my duty, my honor, my country.

It occurs to me that generations today are so far removed from the original events which transpired in Philadelphia, they take for granted their liberty and understand not the ideals upon which this land was predicated. Even now, as I sit at my dining room table, I contemplate this thought as my little boy peers his sweet face above the screen of my laptop. Will he know America as I strive to know her? Or will he be numbered among the frivolous generation that seeks not to delight in truth but revels in a clouded state of dissonance?

I can't help but think of what we would have become if the Founding Fathers had failed in their pursuit of liberty. I also cannot help but be reminded of those working behind the scenes to ensure that the Declaration of Independence and Constitution became a reality. Our land is the Chosen Land for a reason, and for this purpose I study and explore the writings of the original inhabitants of our great nation...the native Americans who were here before Columbus, before the Founding Fathers, long before either you or I.

In light of my exploration, it pleases me to share with you the story of a valiant and courageous patriot named Moroni, the last surviving citizen of the Nephite nation on the American continent. Travel with me, dear friends, on a detour through history as I relay a tale that will never be recorded in any historical textbook.



For those among you who may not be familiar with Moroni, allow me to introduce one of the greatest generals in American history. Moroni was a Nephite warrior. Serving under the leadership of his father, Mormon, Moroni and 220,000 soldiers engaged in an historic battle against their tribal enemy, the Lamanites. During the course of the final war between the contentious tribes, the Lamanites slew Mormon and were victorious in causing the collapse of the Nephite nation; as one of the few remaining survivors of the Nephite people, Moroni was forced to wander in the wilderness, hiding for a long and arduous 36 years. While in hiding, Moroni did much writing. He had been commissioned by his father (while still living) to finish recording the history of the Nephite people. Several authors had contributed to the writings of the Nephites, and Mormon had abridged these accounts onto sheets constructed of gold alloy. Moroni became the guardian of these plates which he buried in a stone box in the hill Cumorah, in the modern city of Manchester, New York. The plates remained buried until the autumn of 1823.

Interesting story, you may say, but why would I consider Moroni to be a patriot? Although I personally do not worship patron saints, I consider Moroni to be a fore-ordained guardian of liberty, an angelic beacon for an unpopular explorer, a defender in a general's camp, an invisible hand guiding the destiny of a nation.

During the days of the drafting of the Declaration of Independence, Thomas Jefferson shared an experience of an unknown visitor. Jefferson wrote, "On that day of our nation's birth in the little hall in Philadelphia, debate had raged for hours. The men gathered there were honorable men hard-pressed by a king who had flouted the very laws they were willing to obey. Even so, to sign a declaration of independence was such an irretrievable act that the walls resounded with the words treason, the gallows, the headsman's axe, and the issue remained in doubt. Then a man rose and spoke." Jefferson continues to describe the man as an older gentlemen, "one who had to summon all his energy for an impassioned plea". The man had orated the "grievances" that had all brought them to this place, "and finally, his voice failing, he said, 'They may turn every tree into a gallows, every home into a grave, and yet the words of that parchment can never die. To the mechanic in the workshop, they will speak hope; to the slave in the mines, freedom. Sign that parchment. Sign if the next moment the noose is around your neck, for that parchment will be the textbook of freedom, the Bible of the rights of man forever.'"
"He fell back exhausted. The fifty-six delegates, swept up by his eloquence, rushed forward and signed a document destined to be as immortal as a work of man can be."
Jefferson concludes, "When they turned to thank him for his timely oratory, he was not to be found, nor could any be found who knew who he was or how he had come in or gone out through the locked and guarded doors."

I believe Thomas Jefferson to be a man of honor and integrity. I also believe that the man who spoke to the delegates that day was not a man at all, but a heavenly messenger. Was he the same messenger who traversed the stormy sea with Columbus or fought alongside the starving and ravaged troops of General Washington? Perhaps. Although my heart echoes the role of divinity in shaping a nation, my faith is the only assurance I can offer. In spite of my unscientific claims, of this much I do know: The United States of America is more than a melting pot. Our strength, numbers, and prosperity did not come to pass of our own accord. From yesterday's pilgrims to today's refugees, we have been inspired and led by hands not of our own making.

A gentleman once asked Mr. Lincoln, "What constitutes the bulwarks of our liberty and independence?" Abraham intuitively replied, "It is not our frowning battlements, or bristling sea coasts, our army and navy..., our reliance is in the love of liberty which God has planted in us."

I excitedly proclaim that God has instilled a love of liberty in me! If you didn't know it before, you most assuredly know that of me now. Liberty is not my souvenir. It is not my flag swaying in the breeze. It is not my t-shirt emblem, my fireworks display, or my statue on Ellis Island. It is and always will be my song.