In a church I served, there were two flags prominently displayed in the chancel area. On the right, the Christian flag. On the left, the United States one.
Throughout my years there, this simple display generated interesting conversations. One was started by a gentleman who stated that we should display the American flag more prominently, closer to the pulpit. Another was a request that we sing “I’m Proud to Be an American.”
A more positive conversation took a different track. It was simply that we need to live in constructive tension between the two flags. As Christians, we know that no country represents God’s chosen. Only Jesus does. And as such, we have a duty to protest, as well as to vote, along the standards of the kingdom Jesus inaugurated. Only those who wish to live in a fantasy can look back at our nation objectively and not see how many times we’ve missed the mark (ask Blacks, Native Americans, and Asians). Current inflammatory remarks about immigrants show that this isn’t just historical.
However, we who criticize our country also have the duty to express our gratitude for it. The very freedom that enables us to criticize injustices is the same freedom that enables us to do that in the first place. To gather, worship, and live out our faith without governmental coercion or restriction is something to treasure. Too often we who see ourselves as progressives take for granted just how privileged we are to be living with such privilege.
What connects the two flags is gratitude.
I gave the invocation at a community Memorial Day service last May. Representatives of those who served in battle, starting with World War Two, laid wreaths in memory of their fallen comrades. In the picture atop this blog, I’m in the middle, with a WW2 vet to my left, and my Army Reserve son to my right. Our hands are over our hearts, grateful for their sacrifice. A tear was on my cheek, not just from the sun.
And in church the following Sunday, we all stood in the sanctuary and sang hymns. As we did so, we did it in front of a huge cross suspended from the ceiling. We were there, together, only because of what that man did 2,000 years ago. Such love softens our hearts and claims our ultimate loyalty. We were/are grateful for his sacrifice, and we were there only because of that.
Neither the church nor the nation is perfect. But the ideals, hopes, and sacrifices behind them are the closest we’ll come.
Protest and patriotism are not opposites. They’re complementary. I’m grateful that we are called to live between two flags.
The Rev. Greg Weeks is a retired clergy member of the Missouri Annual Conference. This post is republished with the author's permission from his blog, "Being Christian Without Losing Your Mind."