Then out spake brave Horatius,
The Captain of the Gate:
"To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers,
And the temples of his gods."-Thomas Macaulay, The Lays of Ancient Rome
There lingers within some Christian circles an uneasiness surrounding our duty to country. I suspect there are a few reasons for this.
Many Christians assume they operate on principle. The problem is that many times our principles are shaped by unbiblical influences rather than through exposure to the Word. Too often we are quick to fall in line behind the biases, stigmas, heroes, and enemies that social media and mainstream news media curate for us.
One such recent enemy — whose sinister schemes are apparently in constant play around us — is the patriot. The MAGA-hatted, stick-shifting, chain-smoking, flag-waving, gun-toting menace; the rights-obsessed, racially-oblivious, transphobic, barbaric threat to democracy. Here, we are told, is the source of all libertarian chaos.
So we are told.
Instead of critically assessing these rumors, many people — including Christians — simply adopt them as true. Anything that smacks of national duty and patriotism instantly assumes the stigma of the caricature. But this is dangerous. Whenever we allow extra-biblical schemes to inform our categories of good, bad, or ugly, we have become the “judges with evil thoughts” which James 2:4 condemns. We have thrown in our lot with the Pharisees, who were quick to accuse people of sin for the sole crime of making them uncomfortable.
This is nothing more than high-school politicking and fundamentally at odds with those who should be marked by a steady sober-mindedness. No matter what the “experts” are saying.
Many fear the blurring of lines between church and state. They look ahead and see ranks of Christians with shaman hats loitering in government building lobbies. Worst case scenarios flood their minds: “They’ll reinstitute the death penalty!” “They’ll force stores to close on Sunday!” “They’ll outlaw abortion!” These, and still worse horrors lie in wait should we allow Christians to infect government structures with their theonomic objectives.
The kingdom advances best, these same Christians tell us, as we “let go and let God.” The more we retreat from the public sphere, they say, the stronger we become. After all, we’re just pilgrims passing through! If this isn’t our final home, why stop the pirates from stealing the silverware and peeing all over the drapes?
Sadly, many Christians have adopted a zero sum game where it concerns the Christian life. In their minds, spiritual and physical demands operate on mutually exclusive planes. Those who desire the spiritual must retreat to the sanctuary, the home, or the writing and reading of spiritual books. Those who desire the physical? — well, if you run you might still be able to catch up with Demas.
Never mind that this schizophrenic thinking is neither possible nor biblical.
Reclaiming a theology of citizenship
Becoming a Christian no more erases our previous identities than becoming a father erases our already being a husband. The born-again policeman will most likely remain a policeman; the born-again mechanic should most likely remain in the situation in which he was called (1 Cor. 7:20). The recovering Hell’s Angel might want to pursue a different career path.
The transformation occurs primarily within our principles and passions.
No longer do we labor as those trying to wring out as much pleasure from life as we can before we die. Rather, we labor for the good of our neighbor and the glory of God, with the awareness that no valid occupation is inferior to another (1 Cor. 15:58). This is why Luther rejected the pre-reformation divide between “secular” and “sacred” work. He knew (and would have preferred) that few converts would go on to become monks or nuns. Rather, he affirmed with the Scriptures that Christians should seek to be living sacrifices in the rough and tumble of their varied identities — as fathers, mothers, employees, friends, and citizens.
Obedience doesn’t take place within a vacuum. Rather, the Christian’s occupation becomes the medium through which we render obedience to God.
We love our neighbors, whoever they may be, by taking up the responsibilities of a neighbor; we love our children by taking up the responsibilities of a parent; we love our church by taking up the responsibilities of a member; and, yes, we love our country by taking up the responsibilities of a citizen.
Which bring us to our next question.
What does it mean to be a Canadian Christian?
In a nutshell, it means to take up the responsibilities expected of every Canadian citizen, but to do so ultimately for the glory of God and the good of our neighbor.
It is to pay our taxes, stop at red lights, and report crimes. It is to pick up trash when we see it, vote, and do what we can to ensure lost dogs are returned to their owners. It is to stand on guard for Canada — to defend her, should threats either foreign or domestic arise. Even give our lives should duty demand it. Don’t miss this last point: sacrifice is the final and unavoidable expression of responsibility. That a father takes on a charging Doberman instead of standing behind his daughter shouldn’t surprise us. It is the expectation of responsibility.
Again, what changes when we become a Christian are not the nuts and bolts of our duty, but the motive for our duty. We, and our future sons, stand on guard not because we want to maintain our affluence, or because immigrants make us nervous, or simply because duty demands it. Rather, we do so because obedience to God demands that we love our neighbor, whose wellbeing is bound up in his rights as a citizen.
We want our neighbor to be able to own property, make his own medical decisions, and worship freely. And we want the next generation to inherit a constitutional democracy instead of China 2.0.
How can Christians best do this in light of the current threats to freedom? Among other things, I suggest they take up the flag.
The Flag
Whether painted on the side of trucks, stitched into hats, or fluttering from porches, you’ve probably noticed the soaring popularity of the Canadian flag. This is a good thing, by the way. Perhaps for the first time in our lives, the red-and-white maple leaf has significance beyond a silhouette on a discount beer cozy.
What’s the big deal with flags anyway? Well, a flag is a symbol, and a symbol is a visible token or ceremony pointing to a greater reality. So the wedding ring illustrates a couple’s commitment to their marriage covenant, the Lord’s Supper illustrates the Christian’s fellowship with his crucified Savior, and the cross illustrates the heart and substance of the Gospel message. The heft of the symbol doesn’t lie within the molecules of the symbol itself (though that isn’t unimportant), but ultimately to the truth that lies underneath.
So when we stand on a bridge, or march in a parade, or drive around with this simple, fluttering symbol, we remind one another, and the powers that be, that Canada is larger than whichever party currently happens to occupy Ottawa. That the prime minister, and his ruling party, are not autonomous. That they are, at best, stewards — elected to uphold and defend the constitution, which presides over all citizens.
In this, the flag stands as a humbling reminder to our generation’s self-appointed sovereigns. Reminding them that they rule under the flag, and ultimately under the rule of Christ.
Woodrow Wilson once stated that “The things that the flag stands for were created by the experiences of a great people. Everything that it stands for was written by their lives. The flag is the embodiment, not of sentiment, but of history.”
There’s a lot packed into that last sentence, and it’s no accident that the current despoilers of history also hate the Canadian flag. The flag is potent because it is an agent of history — it is bigger than the particular agenda of a particular moment. It is bigger and higher than petty tyrants and their reaching writs of power.
Is the maple leaf the Christian’s most important identity? Not remotely. But it is one of many identities we’re responsible for stewarding well. It is one of many talents we have been entrusted with to invest. When we fail to do so for fear of danger or ditches, we bury our talent and forfeit what glory could have been rendered to the Master. Never mind that even the one talent the servant so desperately tried to keep was still taken from him in the end.
Love Thy Neighbor
Dietrich Bonhoeffer once remarked:
If I sit next to a madman as he drives a car into a group of innocent bystanders, I can't, as a Christian, simply wait for the catastrophe, then comfort the wounded and bury the dead. I must try to wrestle the steering wheel out of the hands of the driver.
Really, all of this comes down to love for neighbor. How do we love our neighbors? Again, we must avoid the zero sum game — we don’t love our neighbors in one way only. I love my neighbor by urging him to be reconciled to God through Christ. I love my neighbor by participating in his further discipleship and conforming to Christ. I love my neighbor by mowing his lawn after open heart surgery.
But I also love my neighbor by doing my utmost to wrestle the steering wheel from the madmen intent on steering our country into a place where everyone will suffer. The West has not been viewed as place of freedom for so many years without cause; such a freedom has been hard won and kept. How Christians can conclude that piety demands passivity is beyond me, but it’s not a sentiment derived from the Scriptures.
“To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.”
Death is always close. We will all die. The question remains — will we die in the midst of duty or outside of it? By God’s grace, may it be the latter.