Showing posts with label Patriotism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Patriotism. Show all posts
Saturday, July 04, 2026
Wednesday, November 14, 2018
I vow to thee, my country
Last Sunday, to commemorate Veterans Day, the church choir sang "I vow to thee, my country". It has inspirational lyrics set to a classy tune. Here's the text:
I vow to thee, my country, all earthly things above,
Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love;
The love that asks no question, the love that stands the test,
That lays upon the altar the dearest and the best;
The love that never falters, the love that pays the price,
The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice.
And there's another country, I've heard of long ago,
Most dear to them that love her, most great to them that know;
We may not count her armies, we may not see her King;
Her fortress is a faithful heart, her pride is suffering;
And soul by soul and silently her shining bounds increase,
And her ways are ways of gentleness, and all her paths are peace.
And here's a fine performance:
1. Patriotism is a controversial issue in Christianity. On the one hand there's the knee-jerk cliche about how patriotic displays have no place within the four walls of the church. Likewise, that nationalism is idolatry. Our only allegiance should be to Jesus. On the other hand you have churches that bilk patriotic holidays. It's easy to get more emotional charge out of patriotism than the average sermon, and some pastors piggyback on that sentiment to give their preaching a boost.
Then there's the more balanced view that a Christian is a citizen of two worlds. Although Christian identity takes precedence, that doesn't cut earthly ties. Indeed, Christian identity is naturally expressed through earthly ties–though not exclusively.
2. Then there's the question of the message. Pretty music and inspirational rhetoric can seduce us into singing things that aren't true.
i) The two stanzas present a point contrast between heaven and earth, this life and the afterlife. That's nice.
ii) I don't know what Rice means by "all earthly things above". Typically, heaven is above and earth is below. So the imagery seems confused.
iii) Especially in the context of war, "the love that asks no question" seems like blindly following orders.
iv) Then there's the question of what your "country" stands for. Does that represent your family? A way of life? Liberty? A common history and culture? A people? Freedom to practice the true religion?
What's the altar? Is that a metaphor for willingness to make the ultimate sacrifice (i.e. dying in combat)? And how does that relate to the "dearest and best"? If the "dearest and best" stand for things like family, does that mean you should be prepared to sacrifice your family for your country? In one sense, Rice may mean patriotism requires parents to risk their sons in battle. On the other hand, doesn't paternal or filial duty require you to protect your family at the risk of your own life? You're not putting them at risk, but endangering yourself for their sake. So the message seems confused. But perhaps it depends on which family member is in view. Men protecting women and children. Some family members are required to make the final sacrifice on behalf of other family members. Or for the common good.
3. The theology of the second stanza is vague. Is a faithful heart the ticket to heaven? Faithful in what sense?
4. The message of the hymn is fuzzy. I'm not sure if Rice had a clear idea of what he meant. It may be impressionistic. More intuitive than exact.
5. When parsing hymns, we should make some allowance for the fact that the dual constraints of a metrical scheme and rhyming scheme limit the choice of words, so that precision of thought and expression may suffer. And poetic imagery is open-textured.
6. In light of (2) & (5), it's better to bring our theology to hymns rather than taking our theology from hymns. In one respect, what's important isn't so much what the hymn means to the hymnodist but what it means to the singer.
Tuesday, November 13, 2018
Pining for the ethnostate
This is interesting because it presents a true alternative, "minority" viewpoint, in contrast to the ersatz perspective of Reformed Margins and the like. The perspective of a genuine "outsider" (in relation to the USA).
In that regard he takes an unexpected, iconoclastic position. There is something to be said for slowing immigration until we can absorb what we've already have taken in.
That said, I can't relate to making
a goal the cultural and genetic assimilation of new Americans to the traditional Americans of each place. This would mean immigrants and their descendants tended to become culturally and genetically whiter, but the older diversity of now-indigenous American cultures (not only White but also Black and Amerindian) would better emerge as these native peoples’ cultural interests were protected by statute and custom.
i) I guess he defends the notion of an ethnostate because he identifies strongly with the ethnostate of China, so he accords the same prerogative to other countries. That said, I don't see the value of linking cultural assimilation to genetic assimilation. Although culture often originates in a particular racial or ethnic milieu, it's separable from the original milieu and portable. In addition, culture is also a product of cultural diffusion–a synthesis between two or more cultures. Take the impact of Greece on Rome, or the impact of Greco-Roman culture on Diaspora Judaism and Christianity.
ii) I don't know quite what he means by protecting cultural interests by statute.
iii) Then there's the whole question of which American culture immigrants should be assimilated to. Even white America doesn't have a homogenous culture. For instance, there's the legacy of Western civilization, but most Americans are consumers of pop culture rather than high culture. Most Americans aren't into classical music, Renaissance/Baroque painting, the 19C novel, Shakespeare, Dante, Racine, Greco-Latin literature, philosophy, &c. Their culture is lowbrow rather than highbrow. Rock and country music, Hollywood movies and TV fare, national sports, cars, comic books. Ethnic (albeit Americanized) food. Musical subcultures (blues, jazz, black Gospel).
In addition, there's the national mythos. The Pilgrim vision of America as the Promised land. The pioneer vision of America as the New Eden (e.g. Hudson River School). The Antebellum South. The iconic Old West of Hollywood lore. The Roaring Twenties. The high school caste system. And so on and so forth.
iv) It's interesting that he and Dominic Foo identify so strongly with Anglicanism. Is there some affinity between the pageantry of the Chinese imperial court and Anglican worship that makes it appealing to them?
Monday, May 28, 2018
Flag-waving
A brief sequel to this post:
I can do with or without flags in church. It's a matter of indifference to me. The issue only becomes important if both sides make it more important than it is.
That said, there are Christians who think patriotism is good in moderation, or at least not bad, but they don't think a sanctuary is the right place for American flags. There is, though, a potential problem with that attitude. If, as a Christian, you think patriotism in moderation is okay, then that should be integrated into your overall life and thought. It's generally not good to have a highly compartmentalized piety. That's the Sunday-morning Christian mentally. But Christians are supposed to do everything to the glory of God.
It might be countered that this is a matter of emphasis. There's a time and place for everything.
Sure, but the presence or absence of a flag is a matter of emphasis, too. A very modest, usually unobtrusive symbol. If patriotism in moderation is appropriate, I don't think a flag is inappropriate. It's just one of many things that may furnish or decorate a sanctuary.
Flags in church
Should churches have the American flag in the sanctuary? I don't think that's a hill to die on. If, say, a minister takes a pastorate in a preexisting church which has the custom of displaying Old Glory in the sanctuary, even if he personally disapproves, it would be a mistake to remove the flag. That would foment needless offense, and a pastor should pick his battles. There are lots of things we disapprove of, but we let them slide because we have priorities. My personal view is that sanctuary flags are adiaphoric.
One cliche objection is the clashing symbolism of God and country. A sanctuary shouldn't contain a patriotic statement.
A problem with that objection is the notion that a sanctuary represents sacred space. That's why it's called a "sanctuary". And that was valid in reference to the OT tabernacle and Solomonic temple.
But under the new covenant, having a sanctuary is just a convention. The symbolism is something we assign to that particular place. In some cases the sanctuary has traditional church architecture and furniture, while in other cases it's just an auditorium.
I don't think there's anything wrong with sanctuaries. I like traditional church architecture. But that's permissible rather than obligatory. An optional tradition. An aesthetic projection.
The concept of a sanctuary is just as symbolic and conventional as having an American flag in the sanctuary. If you can dispense with one, you can dispense with the other.
Some sanctuaries have altars, some don't. Some have a cruciform design, some don't. Some have stained glass, some don't. Candles. Banners. Altar flowers. So the notion of what's fitting or unfitting in the sanctuary is often fairly arbitrary and culturebound.
Not that symbolism is unimportant. Having the Muslim star and crescent moon in a Christian sanctuary would be highly inappropriate.
Some churches solve the problem by having a Christian flag alongside the American flag to dilute the patriotic symbol. That's a kind of pragmatic compromise. The Christian flag kind of cancels out the American flag. I don't object to having two different flags in church, but it illustrates that this is all pretty token.
One objection I've run across is that foreign visitors might feel unwelcome or excluded to see an American flag. To begin with, I don't know how often that's actually the case. Seems more like an American writer presumes to speak on behalf of foreigners. But the logic is reversible. If I went abroad, I wouldn't be offended to see the national flag of their country in the sanctuary.
It's common for critics of flags in sanctuaries to claim that people can idolize patriotism. And that's true. However, just to say patriotism can be an idolatrous substitute for piety doesn't change minds. And many people find that irritating. A better approach is to consider the appeal of patriotism, and consider how that can be contextualized in Christianity.
Patriotism can mean different things to different people. And in many cases it may be an inarticulate combination of things.
It can include a sense of affinity and solidarity with the people we grew up with, played with, work with, went to school with. And while that's a tiny sample of the totality of Americans, it can be a representative sample. A sense of community.
It can include a sense of shared history. A connection with generations that have gone before, in this same part of the world. They've passed on. We will pass on. A continuum. A sense of community.
It can include a sense of gratitude for those who made the "ultimate sacrifice". "Freedom isn't free".
And these are good sentiments. If, however, this life is all there is, then the good things about patriotism have no basis. What makes them good? If we're just stimulus-response organisms, if we're just temporary replaceable biological units, then patriotism is a mist.
The value of patriotism can only be secured and refined if that's transposed to a higher key. If we're creatures who exist for a reason. If our existence isn't a blip.
One cliche objection is the clashing symbolism of God and country. A sanctuary shouldn't contain a patriotic statement.
A problem with that objection is the notion that a sanctuary represents sacred space. That's why it's called a "sanctuary". And that was valid in reference to the OT tabernacle and Solomonic temple.
But under the new covenant, having a sanctuary is just a convention. The symbolism is something we assign to that particular place. In some cases the sanctuary has traditional church architecture and furniture, while in other cases it's just an auditorium.
I don't think there's anything wrong with sanctuaries. I like traditional church architecture. But that's permissible rather than obligatory. An optional tradition. An aesthetic projection.
The concept of a sanctuary is just as symbolic and conventional as having an American flag in the sanctuary. If you can dispense with one, you can dispense with the other.
Some sanctuaries have altars, some don't. Some have a cruciform design, some don't. Some have stained glass, some don't. Candles. Banners. Altar flowers. So the notion of what's fitting or unfitting in the sanctuary is often fairly arbitrary and culturebound.
Not that symbolism is unimportant. Having the Muslim star and crescent moon in a Christian sanctuary would be highly inappropriate.
Some churches solve the problem by having a Christian flag alongside the American flag to dilute the patriotic symbol. That's a kind of pragmatic compromise. The Christian flag kind of cancels out the American flag. I don't object to having two different flags in church, but it illustrates that this is all pretty token.
One objection I've run across is that foreign visitors might feel unwelcome or excluded to see an American flag. To begin with, I don't know how often that's actually the case. Seems more like an American writer presumes to speak on behalf of foreigners. But the logic is reversible. If I went abroad, I wouldn't be offended to see the national flag of their country in the sanctuary.
It's common for critics of flags in sanctuaries to claim that people can idolize patriotism. And that's true. However, just to say patriotism can be an idolatrous substitute for piety doesn't change minds. And many people find that irritating. A better approach is to consider the appeal of patriotism, and consider how that can be contextualized in Christianity.
Patriotism can mean different things to different people. And in many cases it may be an inarticulate combination of things.
It can include a sense of affinity and solidarity with the people we grew up with, played with, work with, went to school with. And while that's a tiny sample of the totality of Americans, it can be a representative sample. A sense of community.
It can include a sense of shared history. A connection with generations that have gone before, in this same part of the world. They've passed on. We will pass on. A continuum. A sense of community.
It can include a sense of gratitude for those who made the "ultimate sacrifice". "Freedom isn't free".
And these are good sentiments. If, however, this life is all there is, then the good things about patriotism have no basis. What makes them good? If we're just stimulus-response organisms, if we're just temporary replaceable biological units, then patriotism is a mist.
The value of patriotism can only be secured and refined if that's transposed to a higher key. If we're creatures who exist for a reason. If our existence isn't a blip.
Monday, September 25, 2017
The Star-Spangled Banner
The National anthem is currently a flashpoint of controversy. I plan to comment on that. But for the moment I'd like to focus on something else. The national anthem is hard to sing because its one and a half octave range is either too high or too low for most untrained voices. Even most soloists who are tapped to sing it at sporting events aren't really up to the challenge. However, here's a fine performance by a great Verdi baritone:
Friday, July 21, 2017
“This Land”
Jeff is a dear old friend of mine; I worked for him for several years in the 1980’s (right out of college). This is a magnificent tribute to God and country. Please share this video far and wide.
Thursday, July 06, 2017
Wednesday, July 05, 2017
His day is marching on
Recently, on the eve of Independence Day, I was thinking about patriotic songs. My favorite is the Battle Hymn of the Republic. And I was casting about for good performances, I remembered a fine performance at the national prayer service right after 9/11. I originally saw the live broadcast. That took place just three days after the 9/11 attacks. So it was striking to see it again 16 years later with the benefit of hindsight.
Politics is so ephemeral. So many dignitaries at that event are dead or retired. Faces I happen to recognize in the crowd include Betty Ford, Bush 41, Barbara Bush, Bush 43, Laura Bush, Rumsfeld, Powell, Scowcroft, Bill and Hillary Clinton, Tom DeLay, Hastert, Gephardt, Daschle, Paul O'Neill, Ted Olson, John Edwards, (Jesse Helms?), Dick Armey, Jimmy Carter, Trent Lott, Bob Dole, Charlie Rangel, Kweisi Mfume, and Anthony Williams.
Unfortunately, Chuck Schumer and Terry McAuliffe are still active in politics. But there's such a turnover in our system. So many power players from a few years ago are now out of power.
On a different note, I wonder what become of the Marine flag-bearer with the stoic expression and close-cropped hair. Presumably, he ended up doing several tours of duty in Afghanistan and Iraq. Is he still live? Was he killed or maimed in action? Is he still a member of the Marine Corps, or did he retire? Did he make a successful transition to civilian life, or commit suicide like some vets? It's a pity the news media doesn't do follow-up stories.
Years ago I read David Lipsky's Absolutely American: Four Years At West Point (Houghton Mifflin 2003). I'm curious about what became of the cadets he wrote about.
The service began with "O God, Our Help in Ages Past". That's a very suitable hymn for the occasion. A paraphrase of Ps 90 by Isaac Watts, set to a tune by organist William Croft. Ps 90 deals with human frailty. Our fleeting existence and utter dependence on divine providence.
The service had a stirring rendition of the Lord's Prayer by Denyce Graves, looking very glamorous. Her expansive high notes at the end were especially effective in the resonant acoustic.
But the musical highpoint of the service was the Battle Hymn of the Republic. The reverberant sanctuary magnifies the sound of the congregation and choir.
It's more meaningful when sung by members of the armed services, since they're the ones who put everything on the line.
In addition to the rousing melody (from an old Methodist tune), the song derives its power from the lyrics. Considering the fact that Julia Ward Howe was politically and theologically radical, the lyrics are surprisingly orthodox. The power of the lyrics derive from the vivid biblical imagery. Evidently, Howe was steeped in the language of the King James Bible.
The hymn was originally an anti-Confederate war song. But the language and imagery are too generic to single out or side with any particular conflict. Therein lies the enduring appeal of the song. Despite her intentions, anyone can sing it regardless of their politician sympathies–unless you're a pacifist!
1. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord:
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword:
His truth is marching on.
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.
The "grapes of wrath" symbolize bloodshed. The primary text is Isa 63:1-6. It has other OT parallels (Joel 3:13). And that motif is picked up in Revelation (Rev 14:9-10,18-20; 19:15).
God's judicial sword draws from passages like Deut 32:41, Isa 66:16, and Ezk 21:3-4, while the "fearful lightning" has its background in storm theophanies (e.g. Pss 18:14; 144:6
2. I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps,
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps:
His day is marching on.
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.
The first stanza is based on civil war encampments. The second stanza is reminiscent of OT stone memorials. And God's "righteous sentence"is a stock biblical motif.
3. I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel:
“As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,
Since God is marching on.”
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.
An explicit allusion to the Protevangelium (Gen 3:15).
4. He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat:
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.
The apocalyptic trumpet of eschatological judgment is a stock Biblical motif (e.g. Zeph 1:14-16; Mt 24:30; 1 Cor 15:52; 1 Thes 4:16).
5. In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me:
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.
There is a venerable theological tradition that construes Jesus as the "Lily of the Vally" (Cant 2:1). From an American reference frame, "born across the sea" may mean oceans separate the United States from Palestine. Passages like 2 Cor 3:18 and 1 Jn 3:2-3 speak to the transfigural power of Christ.
I wonder if C. S. Lewis was influenced by the first stanza. In Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Aslan's Country lies beyond the "Lily Lake" or "Silver Sea".
Tuesday, July 04, 2017
God and country
Every year, around Independence Day, you have Christian pundits who bemoan Freedom Sunday services. This raises some genuine issues.
On the one hand, Christians are supposed to be a thankful people. So why not give thanks for our country, as well as those who defend our life and liberty? In addition, churches should be supportive of military families.
On the other hand, ostentatious displays of patriotism in a church service can be a cheap substitute for military service. Years ago, Joe Carter did a piece about churchgoers who love the military but hate military recruiters. Waving flags and belting out valorous anthems is easy and self-gratifying–compared to the harrowing hazard of battle. Heroic virtue-signaling has all the advantages of courage without the sacrifice.
I think the best we can do is to strike a balance. Express gratitude for what we have, and honor the men who voluntarily risk life and limb to protect us. But avoid pretentious and self-flattering displays of patriotism–especially in the case of civilians who have nothing to lose.
Monday, July 03, 2017
Tuesday, October 08, 2013
God and country
Should Christian Americans love their country? Should Christian Americans be patriotic?
i) This is debated from time to time. Let's begin with a critical cliché of Christian patriotism:
"Evangelical Americans equate the gospel with the GOP. They've turned the church into a wholly owned subsidiary of the Republican Party. But Christians are international citizens. We have dual citizenship. We have a higher allegiance. The world is our parish."
Now, there's sometimes a grain of truth to that allegation. There are some Americans who consciously or unconsciously equate Christianity with American nationalism.
But as a rule, I think this is a popular caricature on the part of faux-Anabaptists who like to make themselves look good by indulging in self-congratulatory rhetoric.
ii) Let's take a different comparison. Eduardo Saverin is a pariah in some circles. Last year a heated debate broke out in the Corner of National Review over Saverin. Many pundits regard Saverin as a traitor for renouncing his American citizenship to evade corporate taxes. He ought to be more grateful for what he owes his country.
I understand the sentiment, but I don't think he's a good candidate to illustrate the sentiment. Now, for all I know, Saverin may be a cad. I'm not vouching for his character by any means. I'm just addressing this particular attack on his character. He may be a creep for other reasons.
From what I've read, he didn't choose to come here. His parents brought him here. He came here as a young teenager. And all his close relatives are Brazilian.
Given those basic biographical facts, I wouldn't expect Saverin to identify with the American experience. He's not psychologically American. That's not his formative experience. That's not engrained in his character. If he doesn't feel the same national attachment as somebody who was born and raised here to American parents, I don't think that's disloyal. Given the awkward age at which he was uprooted, I doubt he feels at home anywhere.
This also raises the contentious question of whether he should credit his success to America. Remember Obama's infamous "You didn't build that!" speech?
From what little I know of him, Saverin is gifted and enterprising businessman who'd probably be succeed in most places where he was planted or transplanted.
iii) The debate also suffers from ambiguous definitions. What does it mean to love your country? That's not easy to answer because enculturation is something we pick up by osmosis, so it's not something we're normally conscious of.
If I say I love my country, I may be using my own life-experience as my frame of reference. It's not a statement about American history in general, or the continental US. It may involve a very narrow and deeply personal comparison. How I, as an American, living at a particular time in American history, and growing up in a particular region, feel about my nationality.
There are many variables that shape that perception. Friends, relatives, and classmates.
If you grow up on Long Island, coastal Southern California, the Bronx, a Montana ranch, Charleston, or Johns Island, these are all distinctively American, yet distinct from one another.
Same thing with when you live. When you come of age. The century. The decade.
iv) There are also certain commonalities that often shape national self-perception, like sports. Or movies about underdog sports teams. Likewise, the Western film genre has created an iconic American self-image. Pop music, from Frank Sinatra or Johnny Cash through rock or jazz, to Latin dance, &c., can also inform our national gestalt.
These can be subliminal reference points. They contribute to a national mythos.
v) Some Christian commentators define "love of country" in the theological sense of the duty to love our neighbors and even our enemies. By "enemies" is meant government officials or cultural elites who increasingly oppress Christian Americans. That's a valid definition, and a valid duty. But it's a rather specialized definition. It's not what we normally mean by "loving your country."
It defines "love" in terms of acting in the best interests of another. That's a valid, important definition. But "love of country" often has emotional or sentimental connotations. And that's valid, too, in a different sense.
vi) Love of country doesn't mean you necessarily look down on other countries. It isn't inherently chauvinistic. Rather, it's like an acquired taste.
vii) Some critics act as though Christians are pure Cartesian souls. Our ethnicity and culture is like a snakeskin which we shed when we die and go to heaven. But I think that's a very artificial view of human nature. Our socialization is an essential and irreversible component of who we are as individuals. Biblical eschatology presents the world to come as a restoration and purification of human civilization, not an erasure of human civilization.
Tuesday, September 03, 2013
Should Christians Love Their Country?
In Romans 13:7-8, toward the end of the classic New Testament text on Christians' obligations toward governing authorities, the Apostle Paul writes,
Pay to all what is owed to them: taxes to whom taxes are owed, revenue to whom revenue is owed, respect to whom respect is owed, honor to whom honor is owed. Owe no one anything, except to love each other; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.
We often stop reading at verse 7 and don't read verse 8 because many of our Bibles place a subtitle there, as if a new section is beginning. But given Paul's repeated and intentional use of the verb 'to owe' it is obvious that this [separating the verses] is a mistake. What Paul is telling us is that we owe taxes, revenue, respect, honor, and obedience precisely because this is what love demands. Indeed, if love did not call us to fulfill these obligations, we would not owe them at all. Paul is teaching us to view our obligations toward government and (as Holst seems willing to extend the scope of the passage) country as the expression of Christian love appropriate to this context. Even as we serve our country, in other words, we demonstrate the love of Christ.
Why does this matter? Insofar as America is turning increasingly away from the heritage of Christendom, and insofar as we do experience moral decline, our temptation as Christians will be to withhold our love for our country. One sees this all the time in the bitter reactions of some conservative Christians to President Obama. Because we have often confused our nationalistic patriotism for Christian love, then, when we believe we have lost the reason for our nationalistic patriotism, it will fall away with nothing but bitterness to replace it. The appropriate response here is not to jettison love, however, but to form our love according to the commandment of Christ.
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