Be Careful What You Ask For

This week is a good reminder: Be careful what you ask for.

Last week, I was at a conference and saw a guy who was wearing an American flag cross pin on his lapel. I didn’t get a chance to talk with him about what he was communicating with that choice, so I don’t mean to put words in his mouth. Generally, though, when you see flag and cross integrated like that, you expect that it’s a declaration that the United States is a “Christian nation.”

I use quotes advisedly. While someday I may put together a broader argument on this point, the short form is that, while nations can more or less faithfully express Christian virtues, and citizens absolutely can live an approximation of Jesus’ call, there is a hard limit on the degree to which a political state can claim to be a “Christian one”, given that the Jesus of the Gospels assiduously avoided any claims to temporal political power, and given the political impracticality of his Gospel message. Like James and John, who ask Jesus in Mark’s Gospel if they can be Jesus’ top lieutenants in the new kingdom, nations who want to claim a Christian title, at best, don’t really have a clue what they’re asking for.

I don’t mean that Americans can’t be Christians; a whole bunch are, not only by profession or Church membership, but by living out Christian values in inspiring ways. But the call of the Gospel is pretty much always some shade of contrast to the broader culture, politics and economics of a nation. Some countries are more generous and humble than others; some enact better policies to protect the inherent human dignity of all people than others. At the end of the day, though, nations are unable to engage in the “race to the bottom” to which Jesus calls those who really want to follow Him, if they are going to continue to be nations.

This week’s collection of Catholic saints, feasts, and Mass readings are helpful in showing the daylight between any allegedly Christian nation and the radical life to which Christians are called.1

Monday: Today is the feast of St. Lawrence, patron saint of comedians and cooks, among others.2When he was ordered by the pagan Roman government to turn over the riches of the Church, he brought forth the poor, crippled, blind, and suffering. “These are the treasures of the Church,” he said. I know Americans who give up a lot to serve the poor and struggling. As a nation and society, though, do we treat our poor, crippled and suffering as our treasures in America?

Among the readings today are passages like this: “Well for the man who is gracious and lends.” (Psalm 112) Yet American systems trap poorer nations and many of our own citizens in crushing debt without grace. “Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there also will my servant be.” The Gospels are clear that “where Jesus was” was consistently with the outcasts – the prostitutes, tax collectors, hurting and possessed. Is that where we put our caring attention and love as Americans? 

Tuesday: This is the feast day of St. Clare of Assisi, one of my favorites. She left behind wealth and status to live a cloistered life of poverty. Do we Americans celebrate that kind of self-renouncing choice, or do we celebrate the rich and famous? The Gospel for the day is Jesus telling the disciples that true greatness is in childlike humility and dependence: “Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18). I know a lot of truly humble Americans; they stand out because they are so countercultural. So is humility a defining American trait? 

Wednesday: It’s the feast day of St. Jane Frances de Chantal, patron saint of forgotten people. (I’ll admit that I didn’t know much about her.) She started a religious order specifically for people who were deemed too old or sick to be accepted to other convents. When people gave her a hard time for this, she allegedly said, “I like sick people myself. I’m on their side.” I know a lot of Americans who have given their lives to care for the sick and forgotten, but, look, you’ve dealt with our health care system, and maybe you’ve come in contact with our social services for the forgotten. Would you say that, as a nation, America’s systems are on the side of the sick and forgotten?

Thursday: Peter asks Jesus, “Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive him? As many as seven times?” (Matthew 18). You probably know that that wasn’t close to the answer Jesus gave him. How good are American systems at forgiveness? If we were good at it, would we spend so much time in court suing each other? It’s not just civil litigation: our incarceration rate is fifth in the world. El Salvador, Cuba, Rwanda and Turkmenistan are the countries ahead of us; are those governments good company for a nation called to forgive? We trail a similar handful of countries in executions. The countries we trail – China, Iran, Saudi Arabia, and Yemen – don’t claim to be Christian, though.

Friday: St. Maximilian Kolbe was a Franciscan priest held in Auschwitz who volunteered to take the place of another man who had been chosen at random to go to a death bunker as penalty for another prisoner’s escape. Does our nation adopt policies that put our interest behind that of those facing death due to circumstances beyond their control, like disaster or oppression?

Saturday: It’s the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. OK, don’t run away, my non-Catholic friends. Just read Mary’s song from Luke 1: “[God] has scattered the proud in their conceit. He has cast down the mighty from their thrones and lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty.” If you asked the average American whether we are proud, mighty and rich, or lowly and hungry, which would they choose?

Sunday: Sunday’s readings are Isaiah 56, Psalm 67, Romans 11, and Matthew 15, all about God attracting, welcoming, and healing the foreigners. I mean.

After all that, you may be surprised to know that I love America. The fact that so many Americans embrace the Gospel’s call to love in the way they live their lives is something to be proud of, and the good we have done in the world, often influenced by a desire to live up to Christian values, is worth celebrating.

Some of America’s shortcomings from a Gospel standpoint are pretty stark, obviously, but that isn’t to say some other country is knocking it out of the park on this front. Quite the contrary, actually; my point is that no nation-state, particularly no superpower, can credibly claim to fully model the values of God who was crucified by the powers that be, rather than overtaking them. If you believe that a nation can’t run on forgiveness and humility, honestly, I agree. There is a legitimate place to debate whether this or that American policy is better or worse for its people, compared to the other available policy options. Yet whether they are good policy is different from whether they align with the Gospel Jesus brought through His life and message. That’s why I don’t think a nation, any nation, can credibly call itself Christian.

I’m all for working toward a society that is a closer approximation of a civilization of love, as have generations before us. A nation that enables Christians and all others of goodwill to live out the values of the Beatitudes and the call of the Great Commandment is far better than one that doesn’t.

I would just argue against ever claiming to be a “Christian nation”, when that Christ was poor and rejected, freely sacrificing Himself for His enemies, surrendering Himself to be stripped naked and executed on a cross.

Be careful what you ask for, because He might ask us to do the same.

  1. I recognize that, given the centuries of a Holy Roman Empire and explicitly Catholic rulers, this might be a minority position for me as a Catholic. ↩︎
  2. IYKYK. If you don’t, here’s his story. ↩︎

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