Digesting our Founders’ words

My lunchtime conversation with an old friend recently never got to the Major League Baseball races, the WNBA or Caitlin Clark. We skipped over the weather and never got around to how corn and soybean plantings were progressing.

Instead, we spent a goodly amount of time analyzing the preamble to the U.S. Constitution.

That departure from a typical lunchtime conversation seems appropriate as our nation celebrates its 250th birthday this year. So, indulge me as I quote those 52 words that flowed from the Founders’ quill pens to introduce the Constitution:

“We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.”

My friend, ever the astute observer, noted many politicians and pundits skip right over five important words in the preamble — secure the blessings of liberty — and choose to focus on the common defence (or defense, if you live in 21st century America).

The 18th century patriots crafted the preamble to provide a statement of purpose for the new nation and its governing constitution. Yet, many leaders today lose sight of that broader vision.

If you listen to much of what passes for political discourse these days, you may come away thinking the entire purpose of government boils down to the military and law enforcement. Without question we depend on government to protect our national security and personal safety. But when leaders lean so heavily on national defense arguments, everything else can feel forgotten.

Many people, if asked to list liberty’s blessings, would include such things as the grandeur of our national parks or clean rivers and lakes where children can fish and swim without a fear of pollution from livestock waste or fertilizer runoff.

When my friend and I talked about the blessings of liberty, our list included public libraries, with shelves of ideas, information and stories that expand readers’ knowledge and imaginations. We spoke with a reverence about those havens, where parents, not politicians, decide what children should be allowed to read there.

We talked about people we know who are transgender. They did not choose a gender identity to use a different bathroom or gain a competitive edge in sports. They wrestled for years with inner turmoil that left them miserable. Since making their transition, they have found a sense of peace previously unknown to them. Their choice remains an important blessing of liberty to them and those of us who know them.

Others we know are eager to experience once more the domestic tranquility that comes when our top elected official refrains from labeling those who disagree with him as communists, terrorists, enemies, morons, or imbeciles.

And people we know ache for the day when that same elected official does not resort to profanity and vulgarity so casually.

Some may see this as a trivial thing. It is not. Language matters.

Words shape the world around us and can calm a room or inflame it. Words can challenge ideas without diminishing the humanity of those who believe differently. Used improvidently, however, they can become blunt instruments wielded not to persuade, but to wound.

A republic cannot thrive if contempt becomes its national dialect.

That does not mean disagreement is dangerous. Far from it.

The Framers themselves were not shy about spirited debate. They disagreed passionately over federal government power, taxation, representation, slavery, commerce and the balance between liberty and order. They argued in meeting halls, taverns, newspapers and private letters.

Some distrusted their colleagues. A few outright disliked each other.

Yet, despite their divisions, they managed to begin their new governing document with “We the People,” not “We the Victorious,” “We the Wealthy,” or “We the Loudest.”

That opening phrase was as deliberate as it was powerful. It recognized democracy requires a larger sense of shared purpose no matter which side won the latest argument or the last election.

Perhaps that is why the Constitution’s preamble remains so striking 250 years later. In just a few dozen words, it lays out a national aspiration that feels both sturdy and unfinished.

A more perfect union. Not a perfect union. The Framers understood the difference. “More perfect” suggests improvement, correction and humility.

This implies each generation inherits not only rights, but responsibilities. We are expected to strengthen justice, deepen tranquility, preserve liberty and promote public wellbeing — not merely invoke these ideals when they serve our partisan interests.

That is harder when fear dominates, when outrage becomes profitable. It is harder when government officials treat cruelty and insults as strengths.

And it is more difficult when citizens begin to see their fellow Americans not as neighbors with different views, but as enemies undeserving of respect.

My lunch companion and I eventually finished our sandwiches. We solved nothing.

Still, there was something reassuring in spending an hour talking not about scandal, grievance or political scorekeeping, but about principles that brought a disparate group of settlers together 250 years ago and formed the foundation for our nation.

As America’s birthday draws near, maybe it would do us good to revisit not just the preamble’s promise of common defense, but its broader and wiser ambitions, too.

Protecting that may be the most patriotic work we still have left to do. ♦