The power of symbol - the cross, the flag

Twenty years ago this month, my wife, Lois, and I awakened in a bed and breakfast in England's Cotswolds region, the home territory of legendary British Prime Minister Winston Churchill.

We had been in the United Kingdom for almost three weeks by late June 2003.

As we threw open the drapes of our assigned bedroom, our eyes went immediately to a U.S. flag fluttering in the morning breeze in the B&B's courtyard.

It was the first time we had seen the predominant symbol of our nation since we left the United States.

As we slept, the proprietor had raised the Stars and Stripes at dawn in honor of his latest guests.

We were overwhelmed at the gesture, recalling a sense of swelling pride and with tears beginning to form in our eyes.

It was quite a surprise to us both how moved we were in that moment.

With the annual observance of Flag Day upon us again on Wednesday, June 14, it behooves us to examine the power of a symbol.

If I'd ever questioned the emotional impact of seeing the flag, my doubts were eradicated that sunny morning in the English countryside, far from home.

Eight years after that moment, I finished my doctoral work at Eden Theological Seminary about the power of two symbols important to me: the flag of my country and the cross of my faith.

A symbol points beyond itself to a greater reality.

Plenty of scholarly literature has been written over the years about my last sentence.

The work of Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung has been impactful for me, but there is not space in this column to unpack those ideas.

In its base form, a flag, is a bit of cloth with images.

The U.S. flag has stripes representing the 13 original colonies, including my home state of Pennsylvania.

The flag also contains a field of 50 stars.

In the year of my birth, the star field had just 48 states as Alaska and Hawaii had not yet attained statehood.

Ultimately, what is seen on the flag is less important than what the symbol means for the beholder.

Putting it plainly, what I see in the flag, unlike any other on earth, is probably a bit different than what you see.

My maternal greatgrandparents emigrated to these shores from Sweden, with appropriate surnames such as Skoog and Eriksson.

When they beheld the flag arriving at Ellis Island, New York, in the last decades of the 19th century, they surely had a different understanding than mine, since this country has been mine since birth.

I see in our common national symbol the rule of law, applicable to everyone.

You may see the preeminent U.S. symbol somewhat differently and such is your privilege as an American.

Symbols may appear the same visually but they mean different things depending on our personal history.

Cross

The same is true for the cross.

As one well-known hymn puts it, the cross is the "emblem of suffering and shame."

Indeed, the cross in one sense is no different than any other visual symbol of execution, be it an electric chair, a guillotine or a noose.

When we see it, we are reminded someone died there.

Our original premise suggests what we see is less important than what it means to each of us.

When I view the cross, I'm reminded that God will go to any length to prove divine love, that God's love has no limits.

Even the loss of a child on my behalf is not too high a price for God to pay to prove God's abiding providence.

You may see the preeminent symbol of the faith somewhat differently and such is your privilege as a Christian.

Drilling down

What is unquestioned is the power of a symbol, be it a cross or a flag.

Symbols do point beyond themselves to something greater, more enduring and more lasting.

Take another look at the cross today as you worship.

Take another look at the flag on Wednesday's annual observance of Flag Day.

How each of these symbols tugs at your heart will tell you much about yourself and about what ultimately matters to you.

I wish you well in the contemplation.