The problem of the pledge of allegiance. It's been a problem for me for years. I always stand -- out of respect for those who are reciting -- but I am compelled to remain silent. And every time I stand but remain silent, there are looks, questions, even social pressure to conform. I usually offer a brief response, thanking them for their loyalty and for their faithfulness to a nation-state that provides so many "freedoms". But that's hardly consolation.
Tonight, I've seen this picture making its rounds on Facebook.
This is the sort of social pressure I'm talking about. I can't know why "Kevin" refuses to stand or pledge, but I sympathize with him. It's rough not pledging allegiance.
I blame all this on Dietrich Bonhoeffer. It was he who made me begin to think about issues of faithfulness to God and how that faithfulness relates to the State. So, I want to lay out, again, as clearly as I can, why I don't say the pledge of allegiance. I've done that beneath the fold, since not everyone will want to read what I've written.
My apologia can be easily laid out with the first three admonitions from the "Ten Commandments".
First, I'll grant that these words aren't given to a modern nation-state as we know it. They're spoken to a rag tag bunch of people roaming around in the wilderness. The relevance of these words doesn't depend on an established civil government for their enforcing, so they're not meant for public policy. Nor are they meant as a personal code of ethics. These commandments are addressed to a particular people, "a peculiar people" to quote Peter. This people is meant to be held together by these particular, peculiar words.
"I am the Lord your God, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt." God begins by announcing his divine, covenant Name (where the Hebrew names God's actual Name, we're careful to say "the Lord"), and all the world goes silent. We're talking here about the King over all the earth, not just a pesky little nation on some map. God's very identity is wrapped up in freeing people from the bondage inflicted by the power of nations, in particular in their case, Egypt. (See the beautiful account in Psalm 77 for this connection.)
This isn't just some random encounter between some random God and random people. The same God who will go on to make it difficult for me to say the pledge -- who in this text is attempting to teach those who follow him how to live into the Decalogue -- is the One who brings people out of political slavery. That "deliverance" is part of God's identity, too. So everything we know about this God is wrapped up in practices of freedom from political oppressions.
"You shall have no other gods before me." The phrase -- before me -- could be a little clearer. Does it mean over against me or in preference to me? Either way, it seems rather clear that God says any other allegiance must be set aside when it comes to allegiance to this God who delivers. God isn't saying there are no other gods -- there are, actually. Only that loyalty to this God takes a back seat to no other loyalty.
And the next commandment goes on to say that we put our lives where our mouths are. "You shall not make for yourself an idol." That is, I don't get to participate in any of the plausible, popular, culturally-acceptable practices that infringe on that unique commitment to God. Sure, it rules out the obvious -- like making a golden statue. But it also rules out such representations of the Lord as might confuse us into worshipping a creature rather than the Creator. This God doesn't want us thinking he looks like a white guy, but there are a number of other ways we might go about being broken by this commandment.
In fact, this is one of those themes that resonates throughout Scripture. The Golden Calf episode stands out as one example, but there are others. Think, for example, when Israel screams out for its own political structure that resembles "the nations" in 1 Samuel 8. However much we demand political worship in whatever ways, God just isn't going for it.
Finally, the third commandment forbids me from invoking God for ungodly purposes. Sure, that includes lying in general, but it also means putting God's name to a false cause. In fact, I think its proximity to 20.16 says that we shouldn't claim God's authority for things that aren't God's. This is what I call "dropping the God Bomb". I'm not free to ascribe God's will and God's wisdom for my own ends. Just like God rejects a Golden Calf as a depiction of our deliverance, so God rejects false prophets who say "Thus says the Lord" when it isn't what God says. I'd even go a bit further: It's the Church's responsibility to be extra careful about such things.
Let me back this up for a minute and summarize:
So it doesn't take a genius to see that God doesn't like empires. Whether or not we would construe the US as an "empire" is irrelevant -- because the general respect expect for civil government is enough, and we venerate our national icons fairly well.
Take the flag, for example. The American flag stands in a direct line of descent from the insignias, emblems and standards by which nations invoked totemic deities in battle, so that two millennia ago, faithful believers were willing to lay down their lives rather than venerate, or even tolerate, these representations of rival gods. Tertullian rejected these regimental flags as "rivals of Christ". When a Roman procurator brought flags that honored Caesar into the city of Jerusalem -- not into the Temple, mind you, but just in the city limits -- a crowd of Judeans staged a five-day demonstration to have the standards removed; and when that procurator threatened to execute them, they volunteered to be killed, rather than permit these idolatrous emblems to remain within the city of Jerusalem.
Sure, Rome was a pagan empire. Pontius Pilate was asking the faithful to pledge allegiance to the standards. And now we're told that to pledge allegiance to the US flag is different?
Lest folks think I'm blowing this out of proportion just to keep from saying a few words, let's remember that attempt -- not that long ago -- to pass a Constitutional amendment that read, "The Congress shall have power to prohibit the physical desecration of the flag of the United States". There's a red flag (no pun intended) thrown up in the wording. Particularly, desecration. We're not just talking about some politically inappropriate act. The amendment, as it was written, said that the flag was in some sense "sacred" and could therefore be "desecrated".
Apparently all those worries about Israel and obedience to God were well-founded in Exodus. Or in Rome. Because those are worries still in the hearts of men and women who are faithful to this God who delivers.
The priorities of civil power like to co-opt Christian priorities. That's the way imperial power worked in Rome. And it's worked thus far in the US. So Christians are made to feel pressure to accommodate, and even in some ways embrace, the image of the United States as the deliverer of nations. In the name of imperial realism, we're asked to defer with honor those who bear the effects of war, under the banners of war (what we call, interestingly enough, "sacrifice"), so we're told it's our "duty" to profess our loyalty and obedience to this national ensign, and observe all the feasts and festivals of its holy martyrs.
I'm not making all this up just for the sake of defending myself, either. Let me use two examples, from a century apart, to illustrate this point.
First, take this ad from a century ago:
This illustration comes from an advertising campaign originated by Artemis Ward, one of the pioneers of the modern advertising industry. Ward made Sapolio soap a brand name second only to Ford in popular recognition and cultural currency by publicity stunts, jingles, mass-transit placards and full-page advertisements in literary magazines.
Since I read the Bible a lot, the first thing that stood out to me was the phrase, "the strong right arm that holds for peace". We're not talking about the God of peace who redeemed Jacob here. Instead, this is Lady Liberty. The inhabitants of the Philippines, Cuba and Puerto Rico are now "dark", "dirty" and "uncivilized" in comparison to the US. Sapolio and the US, it suggests, will take care of that with their cleansing, civilizing imperial mission. That's because every other soap will disappoint (I can just hear Moses saying, "Thou shalt have no other soaps before this one").
And it's not just the wording. Check out the picture. Lady Liberty carries a sword, draped in a flag, and enlightens the world with her bar of soap. The world, so far as Sapolio imagines it, is the US and three of its colonies (Mexico vanishes into the ocean and Canada doesn't even exist, not to mention Europe, Asia or Africa). The US is protected by some heavenly scale. (This is, in fact, the god that Feuerbach and Durkheim warned us about.) In fact, Lady Liberty wears a Phrygian cap, a vestige of Mythraic mysteries from the ancient world.
This is just one example of all the ways that political culture likes to co-opt Christian faith. We'll protest that this was over a century ago. Now, we know better; we know nothing should be worshipped in God's place, but when it comes down to the way we display our daily lives. I'm just not so sure.
Take, for example, the US President's comments on September 11, 2002. It was the one year anniversary of the 9-11 tragedy. I want to focus on the final paragraph of his comments:
The Presidents wants us to believe that the American cause is "the hope of all mankind" -- and that America is "the light (that) shines in the darkness", one which cannot be overcome with darkness. That Light, for Christians, though, isn't America. Jesus is the Light that shines in the darkness. Jesus is the hope of all mankind. September 11, 2001, in the American national mythology, is a day that changed the world. But in the Christian imagination, that day is simply a day like any other. It is Jesus' resurrection from the dead that really changes the world's violent business.
While I'll grant that the President's words may seem like a very subtle argument, that's just my point. The American mindset -- the obedience required in that simple pledge to the flag -- is something quite different from the pledge I've made to Jesus in my baptism. To proclaim Jesus as "Lord" is to strip away political power from every other would-be messiah. Jesus alone is "King of kings and Lord of lords".
People really commit themselves -- they live and die! -- for "the American Way". So we don't undermine our cultural obediences too well. We still put our trust in Mars, the god of war, because we think the size of our armies will demonstrate strength and deliverance. We just aren't likely to admit that we've put our trust in Mars, because that violates a Christian sensibility that there shouldn't be gods in front of the God who brought us out of bondage. We still put a lot of stock in Mars's flags, after all.
Life under empire is disorienting. Because the Decalogue stands there, and calls me to something Lady Liberty or the US President won't. Discipleship and godliness are very different things from national pride. That's something the cartoonist simply doesn't understand, I think. And it's why I'm constantly having to explain why I won't say the pledge.
Tonight, I've seen this picture making its rounds on Facebook.
I blame all this on Dietrich Bonhoeffer. It was he who made me begin to think about issues of faithfulness to God and how that faithfulness relates to the State. So, I want to lay out, again, as clearly as I can, why I don't say the pledge of allegiance. I've done that beneath the fold, since not everyone will want to read what I've written.
My apologia can be easily laid out with the first three admonitions from the "Ten Commandments".
First, I'll grant that these words aren't given to a modern nation-state as we know it. They're spoken to a rag tag bunch of people roaming around in the wilderness. The relevance of these words doesn't depend on an established civil government for their enforcing, so they're not meant for public policy. Nor are they meant as a personal code of ethics. These commandments are addressed to a particular people, "a peculiar people" to quote Peter. This people is meant to be held together by these particular, peculiar words.
"I am the Lord your God, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt." God begins by announcing his divine, covenant Name (where the Hebrew names God's actual Name, we're careful to say "the Lord"), and all the world goes silent. We're talking here about the King over all the earth, not just a pesky little nation on some map. God's very identity is wrapped up in freeing people from the bondage inflicted by the power of nations, in particular in their case, Egypt. (See the beautiful account in Psalm 77 for this connection.)
This isn't just some random encounter between some random God and random people. The same God who will go on to make it difficult for me to say the pledge -- who in this text is attempting to teach those who follow him how to live into the Decalogue -- is the One who brings people out of political slavery. That "deliverance" is part of God's identity, too. So everything we know about this God is wrapped up in practices of freedom from political oppressions.
"You shall have no other gods before me." The phrase -- before me -- could be a little clearer. Does it mean over against me or in preference to me? Either way, it seems rather clear that God says any other allegiance must be set aside when it comes to allegiance to this God who delivers. God isn't saying there are no other gods -- there are, actually. Only that loyalty to this God takes a back seat to no other loyalty.
And the next commandment goes on to say that we put our lives where our mouths are. "You shall not make for yourself an idol." That is, I don't get to participate in any of the plausible, popular, culturally-acceptable practices that infringe on that unique commitment to God. Sure, it rules out the obvious -- like making a golden statue. But it also rules out such representations of the Lord as might confuse us into worshipping a creature rather than the Creator. This God doesn't want us thinking he looks like a white guy, but there are a number of other ways we might go about being broken by this commandment.
In fact, this is one of those themes that resonates throughout Scripture. The Golden Calf episode stands out as one example, but there are others. Think, for example, when Israel screams out for its own political structure that resembles "the nations" in 1 Samuel 8. However much we demand political worship in whatever ways, God just isn't going for it.
Listen to all that the people are saying to you; it is not you they have rejected, but they have rejected me as their king. As they have done from the day I brought them up out of Egypt until this day, forsaking me and serving other gods, so they are doing to you.Designing little domestic deit-ettes is a bad idea, no matter if it's a physical form of a thing or a person.
Finally, the third commandment forbids me from invoking God for ungodly purposes. Sure, that includes lying in general, but it also means putting God's name to a false cause. In fact, I think its proximity to 20.16 says that we shouldn't claim God's authority for things that aren't God's. This is what I call "dropping the God Bomb". I'm not free to ascribe God's will and God's wisdom for my own ends. Just like God rejects a Golden Calf as a depiction of our deliverance, so God rejects false prophets who say "Thus says the Lord" when it isn't what God says. I'd even go a bit further: It's the Church's responsibility to be extra careful about such things.
Let me back this up for a minute and summarize:
- God claims priority over every other interest or motivation,
- Which we may or may not draw down into some tangible, physical form, in an attempt to substitute this victorious God for some more congenially accessible companion,
- Just so we can dress this God up in our own intents and purposes.
So it doesn't take a genius to see that God doesn't like empires. Whether or not we would construe the US as an "empire" is irrelevant -- because the general respect expect for civil government is enough, and we venerate our national icons fairly well.
Take the flag, for example. The American flag stands in a direct line of descent from the insignias, emblems and standards by which nations invoked totemic deities in battle, so that two millennia ago, faithful believers were willing to lay down their lives rather than venerate, or even tolerate, these representations of rival gods. Tertullian rejected these regimental flags as "rivals of Christ". When a Roman procurator brought flags that honored Caesar into the city of Jerusalem -- not into the Temple, mind you, but just in the city limits -- a crowd of Judeans staged a five-day demonstration to have the standards removed; and when that procurator threatened to execute them, they volunteered to be killed, rather than permit these idolatrous emblems to remain within the city of Jerusalem.
Sure, Rome was a pagan empire. Pontius Pilate was asking the faithful to pledge allegiance to the standards. And now we're told that to pledge allegiance to the US flag is different?
Lest folks think I'm blowing this out of proportion just to keep from saying a few words, let's remember that attempt -- not that long ago -- to pass a Constitutional amendment that read, "The Congress shall have power to prohibit the physical desecration of the flag of the United States". There's a red flag (no pun intended) thrown up in the wording. Particularly, desecration. We're not just talking about some politically inappropriate act. The amendment, as it was written, said that the flag was in some sense "sacred" and could therefore be "desecrated".
Apparently all those worries about Israel and obedience to God were well-founded in Exodus. Or in Rome. Because those are worries still in the hearts of men and women who are faithful to this God who delivers.
The priorities of civil power like to co-opt Christian priorities. That's the way imperial power worked in Rome. And it's worked thus far in the US. So Christians are made to feel pressure to accommodate, and even in some ways embrace, the image of the United States as the deliverer of nations. In the name of imperial realism, we're asked to defer with honor those who bear the effects of war, under the banners of war (what we call, interestingly enough, "sacrifice"), so we're told it's our "duty" to profess our loyalty and obedience to this national ensign, and observe all the feasts and festivals of its holy martyrs.
I'm not making all this up just for the sake of defending myself, either. Let me use two examples, from a century apart, to illustrate this point.
First, take this ad from a century ago:
This illustration comes from an advertising campaign originated by Artemis Ward, one of the pioneers of the modern advertising industry. Ward made Sapolio soap a brand name second only to Ford in popular recognition and cultural currency by publicity stunts, jingles, mass-transit placards and full-page advertisements in literary magazines.
Since I read the Bible a lot, the first thing that stood out to me was the phrase, "the strong right arm that holds for peace". We're not talking about the God of peace who redeemed Jacob here. Instead, this is Lady Liberty. The inhabitants of the Philippines, Cuba and Puerto Rico are now "dark", "dirty" and "uncivilized" in comparison to the US. Sapolio and the US, it suggests, will take care of that with their cleansing, civilizing imperial mission. That's because every other soap will disappoint (I can just hear Moses saying, "Thou shalt have no other soaps before this one").
And it's not just the wording. Check out the picture. Lady Liberty carries a sword, draped in a flag, and enlightens the world with her bar of soap. The world, so far as Sapolio imagines it, is the US and three of its colonies (Mexico vanishes into the ocean and Canada doesn't even exist, not to mention Europe, Asia or Africa). The US is protected by some heavenly scale. (This is, in fact, the god that Feuerbach and Durkheim warned us about.) In fact, Lady Liberty wears a Phrygian cap, a vestige of Mythraic mysteries from the ancient world.
This is just one example of all the ways that political culture likes to co-opt Christian faith. We'll protest that this was over a century ago. Now, we know better; we know nothing should be worshipped in God's place, but when it comes down to the way we display our daily lives. I'm just not so sure.
Take, for example, the US President's comments on September 11, 2002. It was the one year anniversary of the 9-11 tragedy. I want to focus on the final paragraph of his comments:
Our country is strong. And our cause is even larger than our country. Ours is the cause of human dignity; freedom guided by conscience and guarded by peace. This ideal of America is the hope of all mankind. That hope drew millions to this harbor. That hope still lights our way. And the light shines in the darkness. And the darkness will not overcome it (emphasis added).
The Presidents wants us to believe that the American cause is "the hope of all mankind" -- and that America is "the light (that) shines in the darkness", one which cannot be overcome with darkness. That Light, for Christians, though, isn't America. Jesus is the Light that shines in the darkness. Jesus is the hope of all mankind. September 11, 2001, in the American national mythology, is a day that changed the world. But in the Christian imagination, that day is simply a day like any other. It is Jesus' resurrection from the dead that really changes the world's violent business.
While I'll grant that the President's words may seem like a very subtle argument, that's just my point. The American mindset -- the obedience required in that simple pledge to the flag -- is something quite different from the pledge I've made to Jesus in my baptism. To proclaim Jesus as "Lord" is to strip away political power from every other would-be messiah. Jesus alone is "King of kings and Lord of lords".
People really commit themselves -- they live and die! -- for "the American Way". So we don't undermine our cultural obediences too well. We still put our trust in Mars, the god of war, because we think the size of our armies will demonstrate strength and deliverance. We just aren't likely to admit that we've put our trust in Mars, because that violates a Christian sensibility that there shouldn't be gods in front of the God who brought us out of bondage. We still put a lot of stock in Mars's flags, after all.
Life under empire is disorienting. Because the Decalogue stands there, and calls me to something Lady Liberty or the US President won't. Discipleship and godliness are very different things from national pride. That's something the cartoonist simply doesn't understand, I think. And it's why I'm constantly having to explain why I won't say the pledge.