The Declaration of Independence is a sacred part of American

There are few documents in human history that have burned themselves so deeply into the conscience of a nation as The Declaration of Independence. When Paul Gillmor declared, “The Declaration of Independence is a sacred part of American history,” he spoke not merely of parchment and ink, but of spirit and sacrifice — of a covenant between a people and the eternal ideals of liberty, equality, and human dignity. His words remind us that this Declaration is not simply an artifact to be read in reverence; it is a living scripture of freedom, sanctified by the courage of those who dared to defy kings and empires in pursuit of a higher truth.

To call it sacred is to acknowledge that it was not written in comfort, but in conviction. The men who signed it in 1776 did so knowing that they risked everything — their fortunes, their homes, their very lives. For by declaring independence from Britain, they committed treason in the eyes of their rulers. Yet they were guided not by ambition, but by faith in the natural rights of man — that all are born equal, and that governments exist only to protect that equality. Gillmor’s reverence for the Declaration stems from this holy defiance — the moment when mortal men, bound by human frailty, touched the divine through courage.

The origin of this sacredness lies not in the language alone, but in the spirit that forged it. For the Declaration was not merely a statement of rebellion; it was a proclamation of moral order. It gave shape to the belief that there is a higher law than that of kings — the law of conscience and justice. In this way, it echoes the wisdom of the ancients, who taught that freedom is not license, but harmony between truth and virtue. Just as Moses carried commandments carved in stone, Jefferson and his compatriots delivered principles written in the fire of human longing. Both were acts of divine audacity — the claim that humanity need not bow to tyranny, whether earthly or eternal.

Consider, for a moment, the fate of those who signed that sacred text. Thomas Nelson, one of the signers, saw his own home shelled by cannons of the Continental Army because British soldiers had taken refuge there. He gave the order himself. John Hart, driven from his house, returned years later to find his wife dead and his farm in ruins. Many others were hunted, imprisoned, impoverished — yet not one recanted. They understood, as all prophets of freedom must, that sacrifice sanctifies principle. Thus, the Declaration became not only a political document, but a spiritual altar, upon which the founders laid down their comfort for the birth of a nation.

In the centuries since, the Declaration of Independence has remained a mirror in which America must continually behold its own soul. Each generation is called to ask: do we still honor the truth that “all men are created equal”? When slavery darkened the land, Abraham Lincoln held the Declaration aloft as his moral compass, proclaiming that its promise must be fulfilled for all. When women demanded suffrage, they drew strength from its sacred words. When civil rights leaders marched through the streets, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. called it a “promissory note” — a sacred debt yet unpaid. Thus, the document has lived beyond its authors, forever reminding the living that freedom must be defended not once, but always.

Gillmor’s reverence teaches us that sacred things demand not mere admiration, but guardianship. To treat the Declaration as sacred is not to entomb it in glass, but to embody it in action. Its holiness lies not in its preservation, but in its practice. To revere it truly, one must strive for justice, resist oppression, and honor the dignity of all people. For sacred texts lose their power when they are worshiped but not lived. The Declaration’s divinity is not that it exists — but that it still speaks, calling each citizen to rise above comfort and defend the flame of liberty that first kindled in 1776.

So, my child, take these words to heart: freedom is not inherited; it is renewed. Each time you act with integrity, each time you speak for the voiceless, each time you stand against injustice — you write, in your own way, a new line in that sacred Declaration. Let the courage of the founders live in you; let their spirit guide your steps. For Paul Gillmor was right: the Declaration of Independence is sacred — not because of what it once declared, but because of what it still demands. It is a covenant not only with history, but with the soul of every free human being who believes that truth, once spoken, must forever be defended.