My sisters and brothers,
Two hundred fifty years ago, a remarkable experiment began.
A people dared to believe that freedom could flourish, that ordinary citizens could govern themselves, and that human dignity was not granted by kings or governments, but by God.
Today, we celebrate that vision. But in the Franciscan tradition, celebration begins with reflection.
Before we give thanks, we need to examine our hearts. Before we celebrate our accomplishments, we need to consider our responsibilities.
And so, America, as we mark our 250th anniversary, let us pray the prayer that has inspired generations of Franciscans, and pause, reflect, and consider this national examination of conscious:
This is the question before us:
Have we been instruments of peace? And can we become them still?
We give thanks for the blessings of liberty. For democracy. For freedom of speech, conscience, worship, and participation. For all those who sacrificed to preserve these freedoms.
Yet we need to ask:
Where there was discord, have we sown unity?
Or have we allowed anger, division, and suspicion to grow between neighbor and neighbor?
Have we listened to one another?
Have we remembered that democracy survives not because we agree on everything, but because we believe we belong to one another?
We give thanks for those who came to these shores seeking hope.
For immigrants, refugees, dreamers, and builders.
For the many cultures that have enriched our nation.
Yet we need to ask:
Where there was injury, have we offered pardon? Have we welcomed the stranger?
Have we treated newcomers with dignity? Or have we forgotten that our own ancestors once sought the same welcome and opportunity?
We give thanks for those who expanded the promise of liberty. For abolitionists. For civil rights leaders. For all who challenged our nation to become more just.
Yet we need to ask:
Where there was hatred, have we brought love?
Have we truly recognized the dignity of every human person?
Have we sought reconciliation where wounds remain?
Or have we too often allowed prejudice, fear, and injustice to endure?
We give thanks for those who served our nation.
For veterans and first responders. For all who sacrificed for the common good.
Yet we need to ask:
Where there was darkness, have we brought light? Have we used our strength wisely?
Have we pursued peace with courage? Have we acted with humility among the nations of the world?
And with honesty, we acknowledge that there have been times when our actions brought suffering beyond our borders.
Times when power was used without wisdom. Times when fear overshadowed compassion.
For these failures, we seek understanding, forgiveness, and the grace to do better.
We give thanks for the prosperity many enjoy. For innovation, opportunity, and abundance.
Yet we need to ask:
Where there was despair, have we brought hope?
Have we remembered the poor? The hungry? The homeless? The elderly? The forgotten?
Have we seen them as brothers and sisters? Or merely as problems to be solved?
We give thanks for our families and communities. For teachers and mentors.
For those who pass on wisdom and values.
Yet we need to ask:
Have we sought to understand rather than to be understood?
What are we teaching our children? Are we forming them to be citizens of compassion?
Builders of peace? Servants of the common good? Do they see in us the virtues we hope to leave behind?
We give thanks for the beauty of this land. Its mountains and rivers. Its forests and plains.
Its abundance and wonder.
Yet we need to ask:
Have we loved and protected what God has entrusted to us? Have we cared for creation with gratitude and humility?
Or have we sometimes taken more than we have given? The Peace Prayer reminds us:
It is in giving that we receive. It is in pardoning that we are pardoned.
And it is in dying to ourselves that we are born to eternal life.
For 250 years, America has been at its best whenever its people have chosen service over selfishness.
Sacrifice over comfort. Community over division. Love over fear.
Today, we do not celebrate a perfect nation. No nation is perfect.
Instead, we celebrate a people who continue to strive.
A people capable of learning from their mistakes. A people willing to confront difficult truths.
A people who still believe that tomorrow can be better than today.
And so, on this 250th anniversary, let our prayer be simple:
Lord, where there is hatred in our nation, let us sow love.
Where there is injury, let us offer pardon.
Where there is division, let us build unity.
Where there is doubt, let us inspire faith.
Where there is despair, let us bring hope.
Where there is darkness, let us carry light.
And where there is sadness, let us bring joy.
May God bless the United States of America.
May God heal what is wounded.
Strengthen what is good.
Guide what is uncertain.
And make us, now and always, instruments of His peace.
Amen.