Perhaps the greatest birthday gift that our nation could receive this year comes from the ten million visitors who are roaming coast to coast, participating in World Cup festivities, and sharing experiences of how wonderful it is to be here. Evidently, the news they receive back in their homelands portrays our country as dark, gloomy, violent, oppressive, and hellish; but what they are encountering is bright, abundant, generous, welcoming, and, at moments, heavenly. 

There is a joke that arose decades ago from a European sociological study which portrays heaven as a place where the cooks are French, police are British, mechanics are German, lovers are Italian, the Irish throw the parties, and everything is organized by the Swiss. Hell, on the other hand, is where the cooks are British and Irish, police and mechanics are French, lovers are German and Swiss, there are no parties, and everything is organized by the Italians. It reminds us that different nationalities bear various ethnic talents and make unique contributions to the larger society.

During FIFA matches this summer, many of us are amazed by the thoughtfulness of Japanese guests who clean up stadiums as they depart and leave locker rooms spotless. We are in awe of the Scottish tartan army that marches through large cities and drinks them dry. The precision of Norway’s Viking row is equally captivating, whether at a stadium, on an escalator, or in a subway aisle. We are dazzled in the presence of the Netherlands’ orange brigade, taken by Merlin the Mexican duck, the Congo fan who remains a statue for 100 minutes, Freddy the German influencer/chronicler, and the milestone accomplishments of Argentina’s superstar, Lionel Messi. Perhaps most astonishing is the grit of small countries whose team qualified for this world stage moment: Cape Verde, with a population like Kansas City (smallest of the sixteen host cities) and which advances to the World Cup knock-out round, and Curacao, about one-fourth that size with only 155,000 citizens.

We have been reminded this summer that we are not properly defined by the reputation of government leaders nor the slant of foreign news outlets but by interacting with one another; and though we also realize that heaven is more than Waffle House, Taco Bell, ranch dressing, and bacon-wrapped foods, U. S. citizens are given phenomenal promptings by foreigners to cherish the blessings we possess as we approach our semiquincentenntial birthday celebration. Among the graces of America 250 are the World Cup relationships that form at various base camps where guests from other nations get to know the culture and customs of regions from Carolina and Tennessee to Ohio and Georgia to Utah and Oregon. Lawrence, Kansas and the nation of Algeria have struck a friendship that may last forever. All this should help United States’ residents who are concerned for our image around the globe.   

Though I wish we were as neat and kind as the Japanese, could hold our liquor as well as Scots, that we rowed in sync like Norwegians, had the fearlessness of Curacao or grit of Cape Verde, and were as appreciative as World Cup guests for all that is around us, this is a good time for Americans to contemplate the slice of heaven that is ours, which outsiders called to minds, and that we celebrate in the week ahead: 250 years as a nation.