On a crisp morning Blue, our Shetland sheepdog, began his daily pacing, dog language for, “Put on my leash and take me for a walk.”
We passed a little Christian school where parents were busily dropping off their children for the beginning of the school day. Some kids were jumping out of their parents’ cars and running up the walkway, racing to beat the bell, and some parents were escorting their kids into the school building.
I stood there mesmerized by the buzz of activity. Memories came flooding back of me and my brothers walking to our little Christian school.
I wondered how things might have changed since I was running up the walkway and racing to beat the bell sixty years ago. Were these kids taught the same Bible stories? Did they have to memorize the kings of Israel and the books of the Bible? Did they begin each school day with a prayer? Did they faithfully stand at their desks, look toward the American flag, put their hand on their heart, and recite in unison the pledge of allegiance? Were they taught the etiquette of respecting the flag?
I remembered the week it was my turn to tend the flag. I would arrive early and raise it up the tall pole in front of school. At the end of the school day, I would respectfully lower it, dutifully fold it in military fashion, and return it to the principal’s office. I was so afraid I would let the flag slip from my hands and touch the ground. If that had happened, we would have had to burn it.
I was in full daydream mode when Blue’s barking snapped me back to reality. A large pickup truck roared past us. I looked up and watched as two happy kids stepped down and ran into school. A dad was dropping off his kids on his way to work. In the back of the box was a large flagpole. An American flag hung about 4 feet above the cab and was flapping in the breeze. On top of the flagpole was a cross.
My heart sank.
I have a confession to make. I’ve been estranged from the church for a number of years. It started long before Donald Trump and Melania rode down the escalator. I have struggled for a long time with the church’s susceptibility to Christian Nationalism. I have read, The Power Worshipers, by Katherine Stewart, Jesus and John Wayne, by Kristen Kobes Du Mez, The Kingdom, the Power & the Glory, by Tim Alberta, and other books on the theme.
I have read how the KKK used to march through towns and cities singing “Onward Christian Soldiers,” how the Church became a breeding ground for KKK membership, and how many pastors preached sermons supporting hatred of the other.
The tug on Blue’s leash told me it was time to move on. We were off again but I was not paying much attention to my surroundings. A cross attached to the American flag. I couldn’t get that image out of my mind.
Blue began turning and pacing, finally ready to do his business. And I was forced to do mine. I never thought I’d be in my 70s walking my dog and carrying around a little plastic bag full of poop. Blue proudly did his little scrape, looked at me, and wanted to play. Hard for even a tough guy like me not to melt when Blue looks into my eyes. Guess today we’d walk a little further.
As we walked on, more memories from my childhood flashed before me. My church youth group was assigned a task for the dedication of our new church when I was a young teen. We were to raise funds for the purchase of two flags: the American flag and the Christian flag. On that dedication Sunday, our group proudly marched two by two up the center aisle of the sanctuary with two flag bearers leading the procession. As we marched the choir and congregation sang “Onward Christian Soldiers.” The minister thanked us for our contribution as the flags were carefully placed on each side of the pulpit. I felt so proud.
Our little procession connected me to something. It connected me to my youth group, a congregation, the Reformed Church in America, and my country. I felt important. I felt safe. I felt righteous. Every Sunday I looked at those flags with pride.
As the years passed, the American flag was moved from the pulpit area into the hallway and finally to one of the meeting areas. I haven’t been back to visit my old church in a number of years, so I don’t know where the flag is located today.
The American flag and the cross are both powerful symbols. When the flag is waved, and the cross is raised in support of peace and justice, count me in. When they are used in support of hate and exclusion, count me out.
I pray that those little children in that little Christian School are not being taught a message of hate wrapped in a flag with a cross on its flagpole.
I am one of those kids. Sixty years later, I am awash with so many good memories yet conflicted with ghosted glimpses of Christian Nationalism. I hope that all of us who have had similar experiences in school are able to discern the powers influencing our lives and call on our better angels.
Blue’s bark drew me back from this reverie. The sun was rising, I could feel its warmth. We had about a half mile to go yet. Keep barking Blue.
Oh, the memories that have just come back to me! My 4th grade flag “team” scored twice in early 1973, when both former presidents Truman and Johnson passed away and the flag flew at half mast for a week. The honor of slowly raising the flag all the way up, and then down halfway (and looking to make sure it was halfway), and then reversing the process at days end.
I too wince at seeing flags flying from vehicles (other than fire engines). There is a church I know of that has a long line of US flags (more than 20?) flying proudly in the breeze and I find that even more disturbing.
Thank you for this piece. And thank God for dogs to help steer us through our days!
Good thoughts here. Thanks Phil. Ours is not the only nation that weds Christianity with its politics. It was even more pronounced prior to WW1 and also more violent. Patriotism can be a good thing but there is a fine line between loyalty and pride. Serving where we are called is one thing. Reassuring ourselves with divine favor is something else, something Jesus warns about. How is it that the flag becomes something defiantly and pridefully declarative, even idolatrous, rather than a symbol of humble gratitude?
Thank you for writing this important piece in such a heartfelt and honest way.
Phil, Thank you for walking with me and your brother so many years ago. As I recall you were the younger brother tag along. I try to recall the specific Flag references, but am somewhat foggy about them so thanks for jarring the memory. I too am disturbed about our current flag displaying.My memory serves that there was a time when it was inappropriate if not downright illegal for the stars and stripes to surface as clothing, pajamas,underwear etc. Now it’s shown on anything manufactured for profit. It has become a republican badge of anger, violence , and therefore disrespect. I’m encouraged by the honor it receives at my grandson’s soccer games and will proudly let it wave from my garage doorway. KTF Phil, Keep The Faith.
I would edit my generalization of republicans to some republicans