I’ll never be asked to speak at church during the first weeks of July. They usually like to start the month with patriotic talks, and they like those talks to be given by older white men, preferably those who have served in the military, definitely those who vote conservative. Because, of course, these old white men have the market cornered on patriotism.
It’s too bad that a liberal wildcard like me will never get asked. I think I could give a good talk. I daresay I’d even talk about values that conservatives sometimes think they exclusively own.
For example, I would talk about personal responsibility. We live in a country founded on beautiful, lofty ideals. We live in the only remaining world superpower. But as Spiderman tells us, with great power comes great responsibility. As the Doctrine and Covenants (Mormon book of scripture) tells us, unto whom much is given, much is required.
Patriotism asks much more from us than waving flags and unconditionally loving our country regardless of what it does. In fact, it doesn’t ask that at all. Screaming that “we’re number one” isn’t patriotism; it’s the ugly kind of pride that the Book of Mormon warns us about on every page. Patriotism demands that we take our responsibility seriously to keep our country accountable for living up to its own ideals.
Is it patriotic to repeat over and over again how much we value our religious freedom? Maybe. That depends. Do we value everyone’s religious freedom, or just our own? If we’re rhapsodizing about our religious freedom, while staying silent on the travel ban targeting Muslims, then we are hypocrites. If we believe the thin disguise trying to avoid the appearance of bigotry, then we’re fools. A patriot has no room to tolerate this egregious attack on freedom. Of all people, Mormons should know best that the United States is willing to turn on a religious group that they’re uncomfortable with. We should be most ardently defending that freedom for all people. We should consider it our duty.
If I were asked to speak about patriotism, I’d spend some time talking about where this value ranks in our lives. Love of country is good, as long as we’re continually engaged in making the country better, not covering up its problems. But is it the most important thing? Loving God is the first and great commandment. Loving our neighbor is second. Loving our country is somewhere further down the line. If it comes before God, then it’s idolatry. Which master are we serving with our full heart? Are we quoting scripture in the spirit that its intended, or are we perverting the word of God to defend moral atrocities?
Talks about patriotism often refer to the Book of Mormon’s promises to the “promised land.” But if I were giving the talk, I’d be compelled to point out that the United States is only a fraction of the promised land. The BOM is referring to the American continents overall. The promise of the promised land is that we can enjoy liberty when we keep the commandments and serve God. It also explicitly states that the land is cursed when we are unrighteous….
Two thousand years after these blessings and curses were spelled out, Europeans came along and committed mass genocide throughout the American continents. We enslaved millions of people. We haven’t loved our neighbors; we’ve massively oppressed and dehumanized our neighbors every time we got the chance. We’ve trampled all over the most important of God’s commandments, and in most cases, made no attempts at repentance.
How can we call ourselves Mormons, Christians, or patriots when this is not only our heritage, but a heritage that we cling to proudly? We know that God specifically said our land would be cursed if we were unrighteous, but we have no interest in making these sins right? I don’t believe that righting our national wrongs is some crazy liberal agenda. I believe it’s our patriotic duty. A good country can’t survive with so much rot in the foundation.
If I were speaking about patriotism, I would restate the need to evaluate the ranking of patriotism compared to other values in our lives. Love of country is great. But the nation isn’t the fundamental unit of society. The family is the fundamental unit of society. I know, because I’ve listened to about eleventy bazillion talks quoting the Proclamation on the Family. Patriotism demands that we care for our society, so we have to prioritize its fundamental unit. Not just our own families, not just families that follow a prescribed formula, not just families that look like our own, and not just families that are on one side or the other of arbitrary, man-made borders. It’s our responsibility to strengthen and support all families. If we’re patting ourselves on the back for “defending the family,” while staying silent about immigrant families being torn apart, then we’re hypocrites. If we believe the thinly disguised lies from this administration about how they’re protecting families, then we’re fools. A patriot can’t have any tolerance for such callous attacks on families.
I won’t be asked to speak in church anywhere near the 4th of July. This year, I’m not even singing any of the patriotic hymns. It isn’t because I’m angry (although I am), or because I’m trying to make a statement (not this time). Frankly, it’s because I know I can’t get through them without ugly-crying. I can’t even listen. Instead, I bury my face in my phone and distract myself with anything else. Singing about the America I love is too painful right now.
I do love my country. I consider all the lofty American ideals to be my guiding stars–independence, freedom, equality, opportunity…. My life’s work is welcoming families to the United States and supporting their pursuit of the American dream in every way that I can.
I could tell you about the stars in kids’ eyes when they arrive here, ready for a new start. Sometimes that’s a true story, and it’s an exciting and inspiring one. But then I would also have to tell you about the demons in their eyes, when they come carrying more trauma as a child than a person should have to face in a long lifetime. That story is true more and more often…. I want to wrap a red, white, and blue blanket of healing around these kids, and promise them that they’re home, that they’re safe, that everything will be better-than-ok. But the blanket is pretty tattered and not offering a lot of comfort right now. All I can offer is my own hands.
My hands are full, and they’re tired. My heart is heavy. I don’t have the strength to hold my head up and sing about an America that feels more like a myth than a reality. But I want to. I desperately want to believe that we can get the American experiment back on track. I don’t know if we can recover from the place we’re at now. But I believe it’s my patriotic duty to keep fighting as if we can.
I’ll never be asked to speak in church about patriotism. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not thinking it, feeling it, breathing it, and fighting for it every day.