“Prophetic Patriotism”

(Exodus 19:1-6 and Amos 9:7)

          Patriotism. It’s a word we’ll hear often over the next few days as we prepare to celebrate our nation’s birthday.  We have a great deal to be thankful for as citizens of the United States, not least of which is the freedom we enjoy to worship as we choose. We are equally fortunate here in this room to benefit from the tremendous prosperity of our country relative to other nations around the world. Had we been born in Sudan, say, or in Haiti, or in Guatemala, chances are we would find ourselves living an entirely different life than the one we currently enjoy.  We have a great deal to be thankful for, as citizens of this country.

          With an ancestor who came over on the Mayflower, others who fought in the Revolutionary War, and family roots in several of the New England colonial states, I have been told I could join the D.A.R. (Daughters of the American Revolution) if I wanted to.  And I simply have to watch fireworks on the 4^th of July (particularly when they’re done properly, you know, which for the Yankee in me means over the Charles River, accompanied by the Boston Pops.)

Where I find myself unable to agree with some of my fellow patriots is over the issue of how we are called, the other 364 days a year, to demonstrate our patriotism.

To illustrate, think of love for country in terms of love for a family.  If we truly love our family, we will want the very best for all who are a part of it. We will have high standards for behavior.  We will applaud qualities like compassion and fairness and love and courage and respect.  We will register disapproval and disappointment when instead we see evidence of injustice, hatred, violence, or bullying.  Both supporting the development of good qualities and working to rid ourselves of negative qualities help to strengthen a family, so it can become its very best self.  Love for country could be understood in a similar way.  If our love runs deep enough, we’ll want this nation to be its very best self.  And where we know our country can do better, we’ll say so.

As Christians, it’s terribly important that we consider biblical precedents for patriotism as well, and in the midst of this sermon series on Hebrew prophets, precedents abound. 

Time and again, when the people of Israel were down and out, God sent prophets to speak to their fellow citizens words of comfort and encouragement – you are my people, says the Lord, you are my beloved, my chosen ones, I have special plans for you and I promise things will get better in time. Where other nations oppressed the children of Israel, God’s prophets stepped in with harsh words for those other nations, and words of gentle comfort for their own countrymen.  So patriotism, love for country, can mean offering encouragement, support, a big boost of morale when times are bad. 

But anytime roles were reversed, and the people of Israel found themselves in positions of great power and wealth, particularly when they were abusing others, or had an inflated view of their own importance, God’s prophets delivered strikingly different words from the Lord. Think of Nathan, for instance, accusing the great king David of murder and adultery – “You are the man!”  Or Amos delivering harsh words of judgment to the wealthy elite of Israel a few centuries later.

The point is that biblical prophecy is situational – different words from the Lord need to be heard at different moments in history.  You don’t kick a guy when he’s already down; you offer comfort, encouragement, a hand to pull him out of the pit.  But when he’s a bit too cocky?  Or when he’s stomping on others to get ahead?  If you’re a prophet, you won’t be afraid to take him down a peg or two, remind him that he has feet of clay, and speak the hard truth.

Words of comfort during Exile.  Words of caution, warning, and judgment during Empire. Flip through the prophetic books for yourself.  It’s a dynamic you’ll find jumping out at you from nearly every page.

          In fact we see so much of this back and forth dynamic throughout the Hebrew Bible that, short of reading aloud from 10 or 12 entire books this morning, it was hard to know which texts to select. I chose Exodus 19 for our first reading simply because it was such a foundational text for the Israelites throughout their history – this is where they are told that they have been chosen to be in a special relationship with God, and that this is why God led them on eagle’s wings out of their captivity in Egypt.

But Amos 9:7 is such an important companion text because, at a later time, when Israel was all too fond of recalling their uniqueness and chosenness, this word from the Lord came to cut them down to size: “Are you not like the Ethiopians to me, O people of Israel? says the Lord.  Did I not bring Israel up from the land of Egypt, and the Philistines from Caphtor, and the Arameans from Kir?”  In other words, I am the world’s God, not just an Israelite God.  You’re not even the only ones with an Exodus story; you certainly have no monopoly on my attention or my love.

I imagine Amos would remind us that if God’s been chanting “USA, USA” at World Cup games this past month, the heavens have equally echoed with divine shouts of “Go, Ghana!” and “You rock, Czechoslovakia!” When we sing “God Bless America,” it’s terribly important we not imply God should bless only us. To love one’s country does not mean thinking our country is inherently better than others, or that God loves us best.

To love our country also does not mean supporting every decision our leaders make. Again, prophetic words of comfort come during Exile, and words of caution, warning, judgment during Empire. To love our country does not mean we must applaud all of our nation’s current values. To love and even to protect our country we may need to register strong dissent, refuse to buy the party line, stand against a dominant mythology of power and wealth and ego and empire.

          As I read through the biblical prophets, I find them saying: dissent can be the highest form of patriotism.  For if you really want what’s best for the nation, you won’t be afraid to say when it’s headed in the wrong direction.

And whatever we think of its relative patriotism, prophetic dissent can certainly be an act of faithfulness to God, to whom we pledge an allegiance that far surpasses that of any flag.

What a gift that we are able to live here in this country, with all the amazing privileges that entails. Let’s not take them for granted.

Let’s not confuse the fact that we happen to live here, instead of Darfur or Calcutta, with our having more right to God’s attention or love than anyone else.  Instead, let’s hold on tight to visions of a day when all God’s children will live in peace and be treated fairly and have enough to eat and a safe place to sleep at night.  As Bono says, “where you live should not decide whether you live or whether you die.”[1]

Finally, as we prepare to gather for fireworks and picnics this week, let’s consider where our country is living up to its amazing, God-given potential, and where it has fallen short.

          For if we will only speak up, as prophetic patriots, then we have every right to enjoy the celebration.  Amen.