The office of citizen

When I was growing up in suburban Chicago, my siblings and I attended a public elementary school. The school day opened with a series of rituals intended to instill in us a sense of solidarity with our political community. Before beginning our lessons, we would stand with our hand over our hearts and recite the pledge of allegiance to the American flag. Then we would sing, not The Star-Spangled Banner, whose vocal range is too wide for the average seven-year-old, but My Country ‘Tis of Thee, set to the familiar tune of God Save the King.

During the course of the year, we observed such special days as Lincoln’s and Washington’s birthdays, Memorial Day, Independence Day and Thanksgiving. We learned American history and were taught to take pride in our country’s accomplishments. This was during the Cold War, when, among other things, Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev had constructed the Berlin Wall and had placed nuclear weapons just offshore in Cuba. A few years later, when I was in grade eight, we were part of a model congress, assuming the roles of legislators introducing bills into whichever chamber we were part of. Then in high school I took a civics course. Although I remember little about the class half a century later, it apparently taught us about the structure of the U.S. Constitution and Illinois politics as well.

Dual allegiance

Did all of these succeed in making us good citizens? I’m not sure it did me, at least in the short term. As an adolescent I grew cynical about my country and its government in response to the Watergate scandal and the Turkish invasion of my father’s native Cyprus, which elicited a tepid American reaction. Yet, as I studied political science at the undergraduate and graduate levels and taught the subject for 30 years, I began to recognize that neither cynicism nor idealism provides a solid basis for citizenship.

As God has created us in his image, he calls us to a variety of authoritative offices related to the various differentiated communities of which we are part. One of these is citizenship in our respective political communities. I myself was born an American citizen, although in adulthood I took an oath to our late Queen, her heirs, and successors and became a Canadian citizen.

Because citizenship is such an important office, with implications for us and our neighbours, we Christians ought to reflect on the obligations it imposes on us. Recognizing this, I have recently signed a contract with InterVarsity Press for a new book under the provisional title, “Citizenship Without Illusions.” I will be working on this throughout the current calendar year. Please pray that God will grant me wisdom and strength as I work on this new project.