Photo by Michael Sult | FreeImages
VIEW FROM THE PEW
I will be hanging out my American flag for Independence Day Tuesday as always. I’ll likely hum a patriotic song or two while I’m at it, but it’s best for all people and birds within earshot that I don’t belt out the tunes full volume. It’s not just the familiar anthems thrumming in my head. Other thoughts, not always poetical and not set to music, come to mind on these holidays like Memorial Day and Veterans Day. Oh dear, do I have that fever that strikes politicians when they’re at the top of a step and in the vicinity of a flag.
One theme in my mind is why don’t I do this every day like the neighbor down the street? I bet if I lived closer to a military base I’d see the Stars and Stripes on lots of houses. Why do we relinquish patriotic display as being just for public buildings and stages and parades and cemeteries. Okay, I admit that’s simplistic; yeah, I’ve seen the red-white-blue stuff on sale in retail stores. T-shirts and tablecloths, great; diapers, seriously?!
My mind meanders into discomfort zones. Don’t take this patriotic flutter of mine as a statement about current events or endorsement of any politician or agenda. Don’t we all know how flags do get misused and abused in that way, not just the star-spangled banner. Hmm, should I be skeptical about my neighbor’s motives for his daily display?
Much as I’m tempted, I won’t attach a footnote banner to my flag proclaiming “No make: America is already great.”
I long since reconciled with a neighbor who saw my fluttering flag as an anti-Hawaiian statement. Except that I’d like to say, at this time of the Hokulea’s awesome success, why don’t you fly the Hawaiian flag right side up again?
There were times when the display of national and state flags has made me uncomfortable. Fine to see flags at a sports event, but on the stage, altar or sanctuary of a place of worship, it feels like a distraction from the focus on God, or the spiritual experience people are seeking there. I’ve seen flags on display in Protestant churches, and on the sideline of a Catholic church or two, but not in the sanctuary where we focus on the crucifix, the altar, the lectern where the Gospel is proclaimed.
And yet, a basic religious belief is the drumbeat of the patriot’s medley I’m humming. Not easy to set the Fourth Commandment to music! The Jewish and Christian religions teach that “honor your father and mother” extends to support of lawful government we have established for ourselves. The Catechism of the Catholic Church says: “It is the duty of citizens to contribute along with the civil authorities to the good of society in a spirit of truth, justice, solidarity and freedom. The love and service of one’s country follow from the duty of gratitude and belong to the order of charity.” There’s terrific stuff in that section of the catechism about welcoming immigrants, righteous resistance to abuse of power, the right to critique and change government. Find it in bookstores or online.
“Patriotism is a moral virtue. Nationalism in its various modes, never is,” according to an essay on the Evangelical Catholicism website. Writer M.J. Andrew quoted Josemaria Escriva, the founder of Opus Dei, who said “If patriotism becomes nationalism, which leads you to look at other people, at other countries, with indifference, with scorn, without Christian charity and justice, then it is a sin.”
The essayist also quoted “Memory and Identity,” a 2005 book by St. John Paul II: “Whereas nationalism involves recognizing and pursuing the good of one’s own nation alone, without regard for the rights of others, patriotism … is a love for one’s native land that accords rights to all other nations equal to those claimed for one’s own. Patriotism, in other words, leads to a properly ordered social love.”
Okay, now I’m so bogged down with weighty quotes, I’m losing my cheery patriot’s chorus here. But I’m with the sainted pope on the concept that patriotism and love are mutual.
I’ve made a vow to take my patriotism to a personal level. For Americans with a family member in the military, committed to living out love of country at the edge, it’s always personal. But the vast majority of us don’t have more than a passing awareness of our warriors. Wouldn’t this be the perfect time to stretch out a hand to one of those camo- clad guys or gals?
With all the island landmarks dedicated to American veterans and military history, we can tend to see the flag shrouded in sadness. Just think of the past year’s events at Pearl Harbor, aboard the USS Missouri, at the National Cemetery of the Pacific at Punchbowl, honoring the dwindling numbers of World War II, Korean War and Vietnam War veterans. With island bases as frequent departure sites for young warriors being deployed to Middle East battlegrounds, we are spectators to the anguish of families’ farewells. Our island has been the destination for too, too many flag-draped coffins being returned from distant battlefields.
No one can remain unmoved when hearing Jesus’ words from John’s Gospel: “Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.” We shouldn’t just reflect on those words at funerals.
Thanks for your service
A television news feature for the celebration of Flag Day June 14 twanged the heartstrings. Preston Sharp, 11, of Redding, California, earned money to put mini flags on veterans’ graves in his hometown cemetery. He is now joined by a whole horde of people stimulated by his vision of applauding patriots. My Irish eyes leaked at hearing his quiet refrain “thanks for your service” at each grave.
And that brings me to the main chorus that reverberates in my head during my private meditative flag raising service at my front door: It’s “thank you, thank you” which plays really well to the tune to the “Halleluia Chorus” from Handel’s “Messiah.”
“Thank you” is something that trips off the tongue easily, often just a reflex response. While we most sincerely mean it when we say “I love you” as our family’s traditional sign-off from a telephone conversation, I think it’s a sentiment we take for granted — of course you do.
“I’m praying for you” is another thing I say to people I know are hurting, grieving, needing comfort. I mean it, but I don’t take a list to bed: “Oh Lord, you know who I’m talking about, right?”
“Thank you. I love you. God bless you.” My patriotic anthem for Independence Day. I want to direct it to Steve LaForce, a very special member of my family. My nephew Steve served in the Air Force, deployed four times to Iraq, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia and United Arab Emirates. He came back, thank God. I’ve only heard through the family network of how many challenges he’s had to conquer, body and soul, since then.
Separated by 5,000 miles and time zones, we seldom talk. Our brief and infrequent reunions occur in the high-energy vortex that is his household of four bright and lively kids. It’s not conducive to conversations, but I know him through his actions, the way he teaches and guides his kids and cherishes the wonder woman who is his wife.
“Did you ever know that you’re my hero?” I want to borrow that chorus, though the rest of the song it’s from is something for the young man and his wife.
I see Steve as the embodiment of patriotism. He served his country in uniform, in danger, with honor. He came home to join the ranks of generations of veterans, who are the humble and hard-working core of all the little neighborhoods and towns that make our vast country as great as it is. Most veterans, like Steve, never even share their tales as heroes and witnesses to history. He returned to take on another uniform, as a law enforcement officer. In this day and age, clearly he’s not safe to take off the prayer list! Thanks for your service, Steve. I love you. God bless you.
