Patriotism & Faith

5–7 minutes

The Rev. Sara Warfield

Scriptures: Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

On this, the 250th anniversary of the adoption of the Declaration of Independence, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to be patriotic. So I looked up a few definitions.

One describes patriotism as, “love of country; devotion to the welfare of one’s compatriots; the passion which inspires one to serve one’s country.” Another, however, describes patriotism as “the feeling of loving your country more than any others and being proud of it.”

While both are premised on love of one’s country, one definition describes that love as reaching out, nurturing those who live within the same borders, giving of oneself for the greater whole. The other describes a love that defines itself over and against another, having pride out of a need for one’s country to be somehow superior to other countries.

One is other-serving, the other is self-serving.

But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the market-places and calling to one another, “We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn.”

We played the flute not for the joy of creating music, not for bringing beauty into our community, but so that your reaction would tell us how great we are. We wailed not because we were deeply grieved, but so that we could stir a reaction out of you. It’s all about looking outward for validation. How can we know how awesome our country is if it’s not better than someone else’s? How can we be right and good if they’re not wrong and bad?

And it’s not just patriotism. It’s also religion.

“For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, “He has a demon”; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, “Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax-collectors and sinners!”

What Jesus is saying here is that when we need someone else to be wrong and bad so that we can be right and good, we’ll move the goalposts however we need to. First, we’ll say that John the Baptist is bad and wrong for being too frugal, not social enough, too much of a downer. Someone get that guy a burger and a beer! But then Jesus comes along and he likes burgers and beers too much, he’s too social, too likeable.

When right and good are determined by how others are wrong and bad, we stop anchoring ourselves in the values of our faith, which are love, relationship, courage—service to others; and instead let ourselves drift from whatever position or belief that will make us feel right in a given moment to serve ourselves.

“I thank you, God, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants.” Infants don’t cry because they want to test you, they cry because they need food or a diaper-changing, or to know that they’re not alone. Infants have not yet had to learn how to manipulate those around them to get their needs met.

Because that’s the truth of it: as children, most if not all of us have had to learn to adjust to one degree or another to our parents’ or caregivers’ brokenness, the ways they’re not emotionally healthy or secure. We learned that maybe we only get attention when we’re loud and disruptive. Even if it’s negative attention, it’s still attention. Or maybe we learned that when we are loud and disruptive, we get punished, so we try to stay small and silent. Then we carry those behaviors into our adulthood, even though those around us aren’t our parents or caregivers to whom we’ve calibrated our behavior.

In this way, we learn to be cunning—wise and intelligent, as Jesus says. We learn to behave in particular ways to elicit particular responses. We learn that staying small and silent is right and good and being loud and disruptive is wrong and bad. Or vice versa.

We learn that who we are, how God made us, isn’t enough. Or it’s too much. And then we project that onto the people around us, the way the religious folks did to John the Baptist, who was not enough, and Jesus, who was too much. It becomes all about winning or losing attention or affection rather than all of us bringing who we are and what gifts God gave us to the table.

But neither true faith nor true patriotism needs someone to lose in order for someone else to win.

In fact, true faith and true patriotism celebrate two things: one, shared values, and two, all the different ways people show up to live into those values. The way John showed up in one way and Jesus showed up in another, but they were both advocating for and living into the same values.

True patriotism and true faith make space for all the different ways of living, moving, and having our being that make our country and our faith communities great.

Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

Here’s the thing: constantly looking outside yourself for validation is exhausting. Constantly trying to be someone you’re not in order to please someone else, constantly trying to one-up another person or another country, constantly being worried about whether you’re winning and someone else is losing—it’s exhausting.

But that’s not what true patriotism or true faith demands. Taking Jesus’ yoke upon you means being who you are, how God made you—and making space for others to be who they are, how God made them. Not overthinking. Not trying to contort yourself into what you’ve been taught a true American or true Christian looks like, and not forcing others to do that, either.

Because a true American looks like anyone who lives in these borders and wants to devote themselves to the well-being of this country. A true Christian is anyone who wants to devote themselves to the teachings of Jesus and the well-being of the Body of Christ. The only burden we’re required to carry is to be ourselves and to support others in doing the same.

If we set aside the work and stress of comparing and conforming and criticizing and keeping score, we’ll find that Jesus’ yoke is indeed easy, and his burden light.

So this Independence Day weekend, let us rest in the knowledge that when we make space for all the different ways of being, all the different gifts in our country, in our church, we will thrive.

Amen.

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