The recent ferment
over the Pledge of Allegiance in June is actually
a valuable one: it has
spurred conversation regarding the First
Amendment.
The controversy is a classic illustration
of the (sometimes maddening) power of the single
voice in America—the protected and cherished right
of the citizen to speak openly and to seek redress
of grievance, even if he is all by himself.
The debate
seems particularly apropos in light of the
one-year anniversary of 9/11. The issue
of the pledge shines a spotlight on the way we do
things here, a way which is likely
incomprehensible to totalitarians, despots,
terrorists and fundamentalists who murder in the
name of their God; i.e., that believers and
non-believers are not only free to but are
encouraged to engage in spirited dialogue
concerning the place of God-talk in the national
conversation.
Much as I sometimes
wish such debate would just go away (because it
assails my innate need to preserve or to demand
what, to me, is obviously “right”; and because it
rattles my sense that, as a member of the seeming
majority of “believing Americans”, I ought not
have to be subjected to the prattle of some
contentious unbeliever who is obviously out of
step with the “rest of us”), I am thankful that a
dissenter is allowed to speak without fear of
official reprisal.
Pondering the issue
does not lead me (at least not with any degree of
comfort) to side with the plaintiff. It surely
does raise some questions worth considering,
however (worth considering not simply as an
American citizen who must come to terms with
Constitutional realities, but also, and I think
more importantly, as a Christian, a
Bible-believer, who must honestly wrestle with
every such issue in light of the Bible and the
reality of the Kingdom of God.)
A few questions
rumble through my mind. . . .
Trying to look at
the issue from God’s perspective, does what we
know of Jesus imply that He is really interested
in a pledge of allegiance to a flag? Does He
even want us to
pledge allegiance to a flag? If so, to
what end?
(Before you pillory me, please try to
answer the questions!)
The founding fathers
referred to the “Creator” who grants certain
inalienable rights. I like
that—I agree, in principle. They made
sure, however, that the whole business of religion
was left up to individual conscience, not coercion
by the state. The
pledge, in fact, was written 116 years after the
Declaration of Independence; the phrase “under
God” was inserted 62 years after that.
Does God feel better
if we put the word “God” into the pledge? What does
He say about speech that is perhaps more
ceremonial than it is true? (Supreme
Court Justice William Brennan said the use of
“God” here is a reference to a purely “ceremonial
deity”, a word devoid of any significant religious
content due to constant repetition—his point
being, I assume, that invoking a deity who is only
ceremonial does not constitute an unconstitutional
establishment of religion.) I don’t
know about you but the idea of being under a
ceremonial deity leaves me cold—actually sounds
rather pagan.
Speaking of which,
who is the God to which we all refer when we say
the pledge?
Is He, by common consent, the Christian God
of the Bible, the Supreme, Triune Deity? (As a
Christian, the reader will likely respond, “Of
course He is, you twit! This God
is the Sovereign, Creator God who is over all the
nations, whether we say so or not.”) Jews,
Mormons, Muslims, agnostics and atheists who say
the same pledge may object to that conclusion,
however.
What sort of conundrum have we created when
we all say “God” and yet disagree on what we mean
when we say the word? What have
we accomplished by ensuring the word (though not
The Name) is in there?
So how ought this
religious reference play in a secular state? Speaking
of God in the pledge should remind us, if only in
that fleeting moment, of these truths: that
freedom is a transcendent value and that democracy
to be successful and consistent over time,
requires faith in a transcendent Being who is the
Ground of moral behavior and ethical conviction,
that freedom of conscience (that is, of faith and
worship) is an essential component of a free and
open society, and that man alone is not the full
measure of what is true nor the final arbiter of
what is right and good. (This
is what we think of when we say the pledge,
right?)
Furthermore,
acknowledging that we are a religious people, that
religion exists in public life and is a part of
our culture, is not a constitutional
violation.
We ought not arbitrarily eradicate
religious references from public life. (Indeed,
“under God” does not establish religion or
suppress anyone’s exercise, or non-exercise, of
religion—so said the dissenting opinion of the
Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals last
June.)
Civil religion, on
the other hand, a banal jingoism which genuflects
to the impotent, non-specific god of the state, is
not what we want either. This
religion, expressed in trite phrases and
platitudes, is designed to appeal to the masses
and often to garner votes. Civil
religion enervates true faith, sapping it of its
vitality and its compelling call to a higher
loyalty and allegiance.
Civil religion with its vague spiritual
language effectively masks a hopeless, graceless,
anthropocentric, relativistic
universalism.
What should we teach
our children in all of this?
We are obligated as
citizens of a free state to teach our children
about freedom (which is first inward, then
outward), about love of and loyalty to country and
about love of and loyalty to the Kingdom of God
(and that these two, country and Kingdom, are not
the same.) Loyalty to the latter may well lead us
to uphold, protect, even die for the freedom
reflected in the former—but the latter always
comes first.
Therefore, say the pledge, proudly and with
clear conscience—and when you get to the part
about “under God”, say it with conviction as a
prayer for the nation. And if
“they” take it away from the pledge, say it
anyway, again as a prayer.
“One nation under God” . .
. I pray it be so. But I am
wary of any creed or pledge which may lead to a
false sense of theological or evangelistic
security—to a feeling that once we have said those
words we have made some eternal, irrevocable,
salvific proclamation (one which in reality falls
far short of a true proclamation of the
gospel.)
Proclaiming the Kingdom neither begins with
nor rests upon the presence of God-language in our
civil discourse. It
consists of the direct message of Jesus Christ,
Son of God, come in the flesh, dead, buried,
raised on the third day, coming in power and
glory.
The Kingdom is righteousness, peace and joy
in the Holy Spirit. It is
heard in our personal testimony of the saving work
of Christ in our lives; it is seen in the life and
work of the church and in the love we have for one
another.
To this Kingdom I
pledge my allegiance, under God.
Food for
thought.
Thanks for letting me raise such issues
with you.
For the sake of the
Lord and the Kingdom He inaugurated,
Pastor
Chuck
