God’s Politics

Jeremiah 2:1-13, Mark 12:13-17

July 4, 2010

Rochelle A. Stackhouse

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame

With conquering limbs astride from land to land

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightening, and her name

Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp,” cries she,

With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me.

I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”

Emma Lazarus’ poem “The New Colossus” is engraved on a plaque inside the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor. Along with the words to the National Anthem, the Declaration of Independence, and the Gettysburg Address, these words, especially the line which begins “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses,” are probably some of the best known across the United States. They sum up in a marvelous way the dream that is the United States of America, and every time I see the statue in the harbor or hear that poem, I am so proud to be a part of a unique experiment in human society. When I read Lazarus’ poem, I hear a whisper of the way God hoped human society would be lived as expressed in both the words of the Hebrew Bible Prophets and of Jesus and Paul.

A few years ago our family took a trip to another island in the shadow of that statue. We toured Ellis Island, where Gavin’s great grandparents entered this country from the Netherlands. On one of the walls of the amazing museum are written these words from the letters of an Italian immigrant: “Not only were the streets not paved with gold, they weren’t paved at all, and they expected us to pave them!” Though these words may not trip off the tongues of school children, they also represent the complex reality of this country, a reality in contrast to an ideal that was as challenging for Italian immigrants in the early 20^th century as it is for Central and South American immigrants in New Haven today. Immigrants have always encountered the tension between the ideal of America and the feelings of those already present in the land, no matter when their ancestors arrived, a tension between wanting to uphold the dream of opportunity with a fear that the land and culture cannot safely accommodate yet more newcomers. We see this tension constantly in immigration debates today.

But it is not only our struggle to welcome and include the newcomer in this country that challenges the ideals of The Statue of Liberty or our founding documents. Like all other governments and societies around the world that are now or ever have been, we Americans struggle with issues of greed, of injustice, of exploitation of people and natural resources, and especially of the kind of nationalism which encourages citizens to think theirs is the best country in the world and so deserves to control the world and make other nations in our image. From the Monroe Doctrine to our history of overturning democratically elected governments around the world when they did not do what favored US interests, we do not always live up to our press, our ideals, our hopes, or the promise of the statue in the harbor. As American theologian Reinhold Neibuhr once wrote, “The selfishness of nations is proverbial.”

So for me and for many progressive Christians, our national holiday lifts up some tensions between our patriotism and our faith, healthy tensions that I will not resolve today, but want to encourage you to think about on this July Fourth.

The first tension concerns patriotism itself. The Bible is clear that although God chose the people of ancient Israel for a special relationship, the purpose of that relationship was not to promote Israel, but in order that Israel might be a “light to the nations” to help bring others into relationship with God. The apostle Paul goes further to make clear that God favors no nation or people above any other, but as Christians we are called to get rid of labels like Jew and Greek, male and female, slave and free, and understand that we are all children of God, equally loved. Today we might say that in Christ there is no Mexican and American, male and female, rich and poor. Jesus and Paul make clear that our citizenship is in the kingdom of heaven and that God is our ultimate sovereign. “Sure, go ahead,” Jesus says, “give the emperor his coin, but understand that your ultimate allegiance is to God, and all that you are and have belong to God. You are to live beyond national loyalties as a child of God.”

So what’s an American who loves her country to do? Well, I think we need to be clear on the difference between patriotism and nationalism. If we understand patriotism as rejoicing and feeling at home in a culture and traditions and celebrating the successes and dreams of our nation, then that’s not a problem. If Nationalism, on the other hand, means thinking our nation is superior to all others, and that our government, borders and geo-political power must be protected at all costs, then for the Christian, that should be a problem. Theologian Dan Clendenin writes that “Christians ought to be geographic, national and ethnic egalitarians. For us there is no geographic center of the world, but only a constellation of points equidistant from the heart of God.” (Journey with Jesus blog, July 4, 2010) We are citizens of a realm bigger than “from sea to shining sea.”

The second tension is how a Christian, whose ultimate life allegiance is to God, relates to his or her government. It has been popular at various times throughout U.S. history, beginning from colonial times to the speeches of President Reagan, to the Tea Party movement today, to proclaim that God has chosen this country to be a “city set on a hill” to show the way to all the other nations of the world. That’s a dangerous metaphor. Jesus used it in the Sermon on the Mount, telling Christians that their lives are to be like a city set on a hill. The idea is that on that hill everyone else can see what you are doing, and so what you are doing should bring glory to God. If we take what Jesus meant as a call to individual Christians and extend it to a nation-state, then we need to think carefully about what everyone sees up on this hill and understand the Biblical point is that we are to show the power and glory of God and not promote a governmental system or national power.

Jeremiah and the prophets of the Hebrew Bible understood their task was to speak to those in power whose actions in that city on a hill called Jerusalem did not bring glory to God but hurt the poor and powerless, the huddled masses, and Jeremiah went to jail for saying these things. Jesus challenged those in power in his society in the same way, in his interactions with the religious authorities, King Herod and the Roman governor Pilate. Paul did the same and found himself in a Roman prison because of his words and actions. If we follow their model, we need to call our secular and sacred leaders to account for actions which violate God’s law of love, the ultimate law we are called to follow as Christians. Love God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength and love your neighbor as yourself. The scriptures again and again compel us to understand that God is really not interested in borders, but in behavior, both of individuals and of institutions, secular and sacred. As God’s ambassadors, we live in our nations to be provokers, challengers, question-raisers, sometimes agitators, always models of the law of love. We are not called to fashion a “Christian nation,” but to be those within our nation who are not afraid to speak and act on behalf of the Law of Love and call others to do so as well. We may disagree with each other on what God would have us do in any national situation, and that’s fine as long as we keep asking the questions and don’t shut down conversations and challenges as “unpatriotic” or divisive.

So I plan to sit in the church’s backyard tonight and watch the fireworks to celebrate the 234^th birthday of our nation. Despite the words of our national anthem about “bombs bursting in air,” I will see those flashes of light as the light of welcome Emma Lazarus described as glowing from the torch of the Statue of Liberty. I will hold in my heart the dream of this nation she expresses, but I will remember where my ultimate allegiance lies and continue to live in the tension between being a citizen of the U.S., and a citizen of God’s realm. Amen.