Transparent Christian Magazine

Give me your tired your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free

I lift my lamp beside the golden door . . .
—Emma Lazarus [inscribed on the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island]

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
—Matthew 11:28 KJV

IN JUST A FEW WEEKS we will welcome another president into office. A first of its kind, there is a lot of excitement surrounding the event, as there should be. Many even look to him for a kind of redemption. I hope they’re right. With a tottering economic state, others are looking for redemption to come from the market place, especially at this time of year. We always look to Christmas to put us into the black again, to even up our accounts. I hope they’re right as well. But I suspect redemption will not come from any of these sources. It never has, and never can. Money is not the answer, government, nor the latest cultural hero, in spite of the cape he may wear. But there’s more.

I have actually heard it said that, as Christians, this country is slipping from our grip. My question is this: Was it ever in our grip to begin with? I don’t mean to offend, for I am as uncomfortable with the truth as anyone else. And who am I to rant about the truth anyway, especially in an age where “truth” or what we have always accepted as “truth” is challenged in every precinct of culture? Even my beloved Shakespeare is under scrutiny. Did he really write what he wrote? Or was it a girl named Susan? And what credentials do I have to analyze whether we chose the right guy for president or not, or to offer any explanation about an uneasy economy, or the possibility of it bouncing back? I hope there is bounce enough.

Truth is, all bets are off. The world is suddenly a different place. Or is it? America is not the same America it was in its toddlerhood, or in its adolescence. It’s not the same as it was six months ago. Or is it? I mean beneath all the talk, all the wind, all the dazzle and spin about equality and brotherhood, all the grand illusion of a so-called Christian nation, was there not always something else, something stronger, some indomitable force clawing its way upward and outward?

As Christians, we have told ourselves for generations that the United States of America is a Christian nation. It is a nice thought, it just doesn’t happen to be true. For America to be America, the way her fathers designed her, is to be everybody’s America, the Buddhist, the Muslim, the non-believer, the malcontent, those with or without a god, of all color and all shades of color, all textures, the rich, the poor, and so on, those with whom we agree, and disagree. Anyway, America is not a place at all. It is an ideal, an innovation that has actually worked, and with flourish and shine.

None of this has escaped our attention. Not really. We can maneuver around it. We can bleat all we want about taking this country back. It just won’t happen. The ideal itself is too strong, too inevitable. And it is a commendable ideal. The fathers knew it, and trusted it, and indeed, were led by god to design and implement it, even putting safeguards within the architecture for future generations. Among all the governments of the world, America is the finest among them. I only suggest this. And please think before hurling something at me. But here it is:

As Christians, we have no country but Christ. No true home but him.

That sounds odd, I know, but I believe that to be true. We are but strangers here. We tread a ground that is not our own. I honor a flag that is not mine, and it is right that I do so. But the government of Christ is not a democracy. That’s why it is called a kingdom. It is a theocracy. It has one rule, one creed, and above all, one head, one master that will not be usurped, impeached, or outvoted. We have no vote. We do not send a delegation to change laws or to amend the system. Why? Because it is a perfect government, one that suits the soul of man even beyond his ability to comprehend it. It is at once divine, and yet it is deeply, irrevocably, and incorrigibly human, even as its master, Christ. It is designed not only to be livable, but to be enjoyable, to afford each of us a contentment beyond what we could possibly imagine or dream, a security that is truly secure, a future that actually has a future.

When laying out the blueprint for what became the United States of America, her fathers borrowed many elements of design from this peculiar government. They just didn’t borrow quite enough. I’m not sure they could. But they did the best with what they had, and it has worked.

But you and I must wrestle with a different proposition. Is it a riddle? Of course it is. Is God obligated to explain? Of course he’s not. As for me, I’ll stop here. I’ll even end this rant with a song, a chorus. We might even think of it as an anthem. I do. I wrote it years ago, but it is an unstoppable lyric. And it makes good sense. It goes like this:

Of Thee I sing, O sweet Liberty
Whose scars and stripes forever set me free
And I concede, that I am nothing,
I’m a stranger here with no country of my own,
So I’ll turn this heart to you, O Christ, my home.

So, from where is redemption to come? Maybe you are right in thinking it might just come with a change of government. But that’s between you and the king.

—SCARS AND STRIPES is available from our web site or from iTunes.