Growing up, I had these curiosity-interests with American history and music (but not the kind that could be heard on the radio as much at that time), and so the musical 1776 became a cherished favorite of mine for years. The VHS tape became rather worn out as I would often play it through the VCR after getting done with school. Granted, the original Broadway production from 1969, and the eventual film adaptation in 1972, didn’t unleash quite the international craze as Hamilton in recent years, but its bringing to life the personalities of the more famous Adams, Jefferson, Franklin, and Hancock, while also lifting up the lesser-known Dickinson, Rutledge, Hall, and Lee of the Second Continental Congress amidst the birthing of a nation in Philadelphia, reeled me in just enough.
Supposedly the more reputable scholars of our Revolution history claim the musical-turned-movie from over half-a-century ago as a rather accurate portrayal (minus all the singing, of course) of the angst-filled proceedings leading up to the hope-filled and scared-to-death-ridden symbolic eagle finally being hatched in the writing of a declaration. So, as the story so goes (more so from my 1776 memory than an actual written scholarly work, mind you): the vote on independence from the thirteen colonies represented in the Pennsylvania State House (now known as Independence Hall) needed to be unanimous (helpful to sift through the movie to know the back story on that) in order to for the dream (of some) to become a miraculous reality.
Eventually, the decision comes down to a much lesser-known James Wilson of Pennsylvania, a partner to John Dickinson of the same colony; the latter, who staunchly opposed breaking away from the mother country. Nevertheless, Wilson, whose career was serving as a judge, had no interest whatsoever in being more deeply etched into the history books. He claimed (again, at least according to 1776), that if he went along with his beloved friend in Dickinson, and thus push PA to the “nay” column, Wilson may very well be forever remembered as “the man who prevented American independence.” “I’m different from you, John. I’m different from most of the men here. I don’t want to be remembered. I just don’t want…the responsibility.”
Those lines from a relatively lesser-acclaimed film based off a minimal Tony Award-winning musical have stuck with me over the years. As much as a quarter millennia ago is worth celebrating because of an Adams, Jefferson, Franklin, Hancock, not to mention Washington and numerous others forever etched in history books and monuments, and as much as my interest with history during my younger years was focused on commanders in chief and the comparative giants of record; as the years have gone by, I’m further drawn to the individuals who have/had absolutely zero interest in the fame or fortune or their name being remembered for generations to come. And perhaps all of them have just as much of an impact in shaping communities and counties and states and nations for the better.
I have a feeling our Lord insisted on such a mindset about humanity as a whole. The one who cared for the nameless of even Scriptural record as much as he did for Peter, James, John, and the even more famous Herod and Caesar. The one who would have us believe his earthly and cross and Resurrection events were just as much as more for the ones who were pushed off to the side by the religious elite and even the not-so-much of religious and community operation. The one who would insist their part in the all-around human story is worth celebrating, too: a story that has God intertwined throughout, because God still so loves the world, including the place(s) we call home. So, amidst our celebrations, may there also be a time to give thanks to God for the forgotten, the ones who insisted on impacting homes and neighborhoods and a nation for the better, even if their true impact may never be fully remembered. Thanks be to God for them, too!
In Christ,
Pastor Brad