In June of 1776 the Second Continental Congress appointed a committee to prepare "a Declaration of Independence." It consisted of Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, Roger Sherman, Robert Livingston and Thomas Jefferson. The committee unanimously turned to Jefferson to prepare a draft. Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence in two weeks, standing at his desk. As he wrote to James Madison in 1823, it was "not to find out new principles, or new arguments, never before thought of; not merely to say things which had never been said before; but to place before mankind the common sense of the subject, in terms so plain and firm as to command their assent, and to justify ourselves in the independent stand we are compelled to take."

The Declaration of Independence was an expression of what colonial America believed at the time. As Jefferson said, it contained no new ideas. He merely put pen to paper in declaring what people of that day were thinking. This is clearly set forth in the two opening paragraphs:

"When, in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands, which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation."

It also states: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.—That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed,—That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness."

In less than 200 words, Jefferson sums up with lucidity, logic and eloquence the argument for the American Revolution, the creation of a new political system and a universal philosophy for human rights, not merely for Americans but for the world as well. These ideas would later be translated into the basic institutions of the American republic.

Unfortunately, with the passage of time, the impact of Jefferson’s words has greatly diminished. We seldom speak of lofty ideals anymore. Sadly, the American mind that Jefferson once expressed so eloquently has become consumed with the mundane. What is worse, the revolutionary spirit that once blazed a path to freedom is rarely seen anymore.

Yet as we face the increasing reality of authoritarian government both here and abroad, it is time to revisit America’s fundamental principles. If not, the freedoms our forefathers so bravely fought and died for may very well, like grains of sand, slip through our fingers and be lost forever.

The park is built in a swamp. That’s why they have a boardwalk. In really wet weather, much of the ground is under water. And that day there was water everywhere.

I’m kind of crazy, but I often read while I’m out walking. Which means that I sometimes get pretty close to something before I notice it. And that day, I looked up just in time to see some kittens on the boardwalk in front of me.

The only thing was, the kittens were kind of different. They looked like kittens, but they were almost as big as small cats and had really long legs. They both had gray-brown fur with black spots all over.

When they saw me, one ran down the boardwalk and out of sight around the corner. The other kitten hissed, arched his back and took a few steps backward. But he didn’t try to run away.

Oh, I thought, these kittens must be bobcat kittens. So I tried to get a look at the remaining kitten’s tail—because bobcats have short, stubby tails. But he kept backing away, hissing and baring his teeth.

Much of the park is on low-lying ground. When we get sustained rain, it’s nothing but a swamp. That’s why there are a mile and a half or two miles of boardwalks through swampland. And there’s an enclosed gazebo that juts out over Lake Lotus. You can sit there in solitude and just enjoy the ambiance of the natural surroundings.

On Saturdays and Sundays, parking isn’t allowed in the park itself. You have to leave your car in a parking area on Magnolia Homes Road. You then catch a Disney-style shuttle to the park. On Monday and Tuesday the park is closed. But Wednesday through Friday you can drive in and park your car. I encourage all lovers of nature to check it out.

Here ends the first sermon.

2. Since I live only a mile from Lake Lotus Park, I don’t drive there. I walk. One mile there. One mile back. Plus however much I choose to walk around in the park. I wish I walked there even more often than I do, because I always feel better afterward.

As I get older and less tolerant of the jarring that comes from jogging and sports, I find walking a pleasant alternative. It’s also a great stress reliever. Especially when it’s done in an idyllic setting. So if you aren’t into walking but think you might enjoy it, I’d encourage you to give it a try.

Here ends the second sermon.

3. When I walk from my home to Lake Lotus Park, I try to "multi-task" along the way. As a self-directed "community service" project, I always pick up the trash on the north side of SR 414, between Eden Park Road and the entrance to the park.

I carry a trash bag with me and try to snag at least every major piece of litter on my way. I must say I try to look carefully so I won’t miss anything. This is serious business, after all.

After emptying my trash into a bin in the park, and after walking around on the boardwalks, I head back. But I’m always amazed at how much litter I discover that I overlooked on my way there. It’s surprising how many things are hidden from one direction but are readily visible from another.

Which reminds me of what happens when I read the Bible. I may read a passage when I’m at one point in life, with one set of thoughts running through my mind, and feel that I plumbed the depths of the passage.

But then I read it later, when different things are going on in my life and different thoughts are rumbling through my head. And suddenly I see things there I never noticed before. In short, there’s always more to be discovered.

Here ends the third sermon.

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor

One of my prize buys was Roses in December, an early-life memoir of author and journalist Frances Parkinson Keyes. Her name meant nothing to me. Everything I knew about her before buying her book I had learned from reading the dust cover.

Frances Parkinson Keyes was born in the late 1800s. She was a contemporary of my Grandma Coffin. Mrs. Keyes was born into relative fame and wealth and married into even greater fame and wealth. By contrast, my grandmother enjoyed neither fame nor wealth. But I thought it might be interesting to learn a little of what life was like for a young female in that era. And the book did, indeed, prove informative.

Mrs. Keyes received most of her education from elite Boston schools. She was fluent in German and French while still an elementary student. In high school she read––in the original language––most of the Latin classics.

She likewise read the English, French and German classics. She rarely saw a painting by a master without being able to identify the artist. She also had been blessed to travel and reside in Europe, which had helped her develop a love of geography and history. It also helped her to see herself and her own country in a more balanced light. One of her observations particularly struck me:

"It is natural for a privileged child to feel that the setting and the way of life with which he is familiar is the best in the world, whether this happens to be London or Lisbon, Persia or Paraguay, or any locality in our own country.

"It is probably a blessing if this feeling continues through adult life, since it makes for a kind of contentment that can come only with a personal sense of belonging to a certain region, quite aside from the more impersonal, but equally strong, feeling of national patriotism.

"Certainly, in my case, I am never going to feel that any other cities have all that Boston and Washington can offer me, or that any countryside is as beautiful as the upper Connecticut Valley and the corresponding parts of Virginia.

"But when such a feeling results in the conviction that it is only on one’s native or familiar heath that there are fine people, lovely sights, and a well-ordered and pleasant way of living, the consequences are disastrous; they breed intolerance, misunderstanding, and often downright antagonism."

Although talking here about geography and love of country, Mrs. Keyes’ words struck home to me because they also apply to denominationalism. As Adventists we have much to celebrate. We’re "privileged children." We promote certain truths that are definitely life-enhancing.

But our joy at what we’ve discovered means we may likewise fall prey to assuming that in our denomination alone can one find true Christians, deep commitment and great love for God. We then become prey to "intolerance, misunderstanding, and often downright antagonism."

Let’s appreciate what we have spiritually without letting that happen.

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor