(Some of my reflections this week are a result of my thinking after finishing a book this week, How to Be a Patriotic Christian: Love of Country as Love of Neighbor (Richard J. Mouw, 2022). The thoughts are really not from the book, but were inspired by reading it).
“God bless America, land that I love. Stand beside her and guide her through the night with a light from above…“
Full disclosure: I’m proud to be an American (though, with apologies to Lee Greenwood, I’ve heard that song enough to last me a lifetime).
I stand at attention with my hand—or hat—over my heart for the pledge of allegiance or the national anthem.
I cheer for the Americans during the Olympic Games, and I really enjoy a good fireworks show on the 4th of July.
I’ve been awed by the purple mountains’ majesty, the fruited plains, the foamy oceans, the amber waves of grain, the prairies, and everything else that needs a couple of songs to describe.
And I do indeed pray for God to bless America.
But I’m concerned.
I’m concerned at a growing tendency to love America more than Americans.
By that I mean loving an idea and its symbols more than its people.
By that I mean measuring our neighbors’ American-ness by the standards and expressions we have chosen for ourselves.
By that I mean demanding unquestioning loyalty to to an idealized expression of patriotism and suggesting that those who don’t fall into lock step are America-haters who are trying to steal “our” country.
America is “my” country only in the sense that I choose it as the place where I belong.
America does not belong to me.
My fellow Americans are not simply those who agree with me.
In fact, many of my fellow Americans may vehemently disagree with me.
And it is their country as much as it is mine.
They get to be frustrated by things that don’t bother me and they get to ask questions I’m not asking.
They get to vote for things that I’m against and against things that I’m for.
And they have as much right as I to bring their background, heritage, ethnicity, and belief system to the table for discussion.
I remember being taught that America was a “melting pot” where people from all over the world were absorbed into “Americans.”
As a young adult, someone suggested that America was less like a melting pot and more like a “stew” where the individual ingredients could be more appreciated.
Recently, I saw a suggestion that America is more like a “potluck” where nothing is absorbed into anything, but we all have the opportunity to sample the unique contributions that each person brings.
As a longtime Baptist preacher, that’s a metaphor I can understand!
Honestly, this is my dream.
I want an America where everyone who chooses it as their place to belong—whether they have yet gained citizenship or not—can be valued, loved, encouraged, and heard.
I want an America where the loudest and most obnoxious voices aren’t calling all the shots.
I want an America where every person can express their faith or their lack of faith without their patriotism being called into question.
I want an America that is not weaponized against Americans.
Is that a pipe dream?
Maybe.
But that’s what I’m praying for when I sing “God Bless America.”
Be amazing today, my friend.
