In 1776, when the United States declared their independence from the British, the founders wrote,
“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.”
They declared that individual rights were central to the American identity, experience, and culture. And, while at the time, this declaration was meant solely for land-owning white males and largely ignored the systematic inequality experienced by large segments of the population, these words have inspired people to claim these rights as their own throughout our nation’s history.
The centrality of individual rights to the American identity helped to fuel the idea of the American Dream — the idea that with hard work and determination, you can gain a richer and fuller life, success and prosperity. It is the idea that you can “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” and join the ranks of the “self-made” men and the “rags-to-riches” figures. You can be the next Henry Ford, Walt Disney, or Steve Jobs.
While the modern American Dream is tied in with materialism and the acquisition of wealth and fame, perhaps the most iconic image associated with the American Dream is the one perpetuated throughout the 1950s. It is the image of the house in the suburbs with the kitchen that looks out over the backyard—the image of the mother looking out over her 2.5 kids playing in the backyard while using her modern appliances. It is the image of my childhood.
Growing up in this image of the American Dream, I naturally grew to embrace the ideas of American Individualism associated with it. I followed the template. I worked hard to further my education, so that I could have a good job and afford a home to raise a family. And now that I see this dream on the horizon, within my grasp, I’m not so sure it is my dream anymore. Because, while it isn’t an inherently bad dream, my dream has become bigger than myself.
The American Dream is all about the individual and their own independence, their ability to provide for themselves—to make a better life for themselves. And, when we feel independent and in control, this is when we find it hardest to recognize our need for God.
And, while I don’t think that it is wrong to seek independence, for it is in independence that we are able to fully work out our own beliefs and recognize our need for God, I think that God created us to be dependent as well—dependent on Him, and dependent on others. He created us with community in mind. In 1 Corinthians 12, He describes His Church as a body, each of us with different talents and abilities—each indispensable to each other. So, I think when we focus solely on independence we lose a valuable piece of our identity.
In 2 Corinthians 12:9, God claims that His “grace is sufficient for [us], for [His] power is made perfect in weakness.” So rather than striving for independence, I want to lean fully into my own weaknesses and let myself rely on God’s provision for my life. At the present moment, that means trusting that He will provide the necessary funds for me to take this journey—to trust that I am not alone in my efforts, but it is a joint effort. And while I may experience challenges and failures, He has my best interests at heart. I can live a full and rich life through complete dependence on Him.
And that is so reassuring.
