Patriotism and Parenting (Q and LA)

Compiled by Anna

I wish I could get together with a group of theologically-minded Lutheran ladies for a big coffee date. I would ask them for their advice and opinions on a whole range of subjects. It would be amazing! Unfortunately, a lot of the Lutheran ladies I know are scattered across the country. This Q and LA article (questions and Lutheran answers) is intended to be an informal, virtual version of the party I would love to host in real life. It's a place to chat and hear each other's opinions.

Reader Question:

How do you handle the "issue of patriotism" as a Lutheran family? I'm attracted to the idea of a good, old-fashioned civic training that involves memorizing the Declaration of Independence, studying the Constitution, and reading lots of stirring biographies of American heroes. I like the idea of small children being pleased that they are American and feeling that this identification connects them to admirable people in history. I want them to appreciate the blessings that we enjoy in this country with the knowledge that many people do not experience the same freedom. Yet this mid-twentieth-century-style love of America feels outdated in an age when our country is increasingly guided by values that are at odds with both old-fashioned liberty and, more importantly, with basic Christian morality. Is there any point in kids "loving" the history of a country that is trying to leave that history behind? How would you summarize how (and what) you teach your kids about their country? What kind of an attitude are you trying to create? As a minor detail, how do you celebrate the Fourth of July as a family?

Responses:

Life, Liberty, and Happiness in Christ

By Allison Kieselowsky

I embrace a certain giddiness surrounding the celebration of our country’s Independence Day.  Picnic?  Absolutely.  I appreciate my relatively peaceful existence in a beautiful country, and I think our republic warrants an outdoor food spread to beat the band.  Speaking of bands, I also love a good parade to celebrate the inception of a great experiment, the result of which has allowed my family food, health, shelter, and education. Most of all, I am extremely grateful that the church in our country gathers regularly to receive God's gifts without much thought of persecution.  I think this merits a resounding display of fireworks and a few whoops of delight.

Within the irrepressible American spirit, however, lies a kernel of irony:  our collective patriotism rests squarely on an undeterred sense of individualism. In the 238 years since Colonial leaders sent notice to King George III, citizens of this nation have passionately embraced the words, "We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed, by their CREATOR, with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness."  Modern Americans, though, silently modify the last part to "[my] life, [my] liberty, and [my personal] happiness."

American independence has become entwined with self-reliance and the individual’s sense of fulfillment.  I've led American literature classes through the works of Emerson, Thoreau, Whitman and Fitzgerald, so I'm well aware of the theme. It finally slapped me across the face, this absolute acceptance of personal rights, when after a series of genetic screening, a perinatologist declared a 1 in 500 chance our unborn daughter had Downs Syndrome.  Since I was nearly 22 weeks along, he said, I needed to decide if I wished to terminate my pregnancy. He said it to me, not to my husband sitting next to me.

What a relief it was in that moment to know that the decision before us wasn’t actually my choice at all. It wasn't my life or my liberty or even my happiness that was on the line, but the life and liberty of the child to whom God had granted existence.  We simply left the office.