Tag Archives: citizenship

What are we pledging?

I enjoy reading Al Maxey’s Reflections. I don’t always agree with him, but he always makes me think. He recently wrote about a subject that fits with what I’ve been talking about lately. Al wrote about the appropriateness of saying the Pledge of Allegiance. I’ve written some on this before. (see I Pledge Allegiance) My teaching in the last few years has been that, when we say the Pledge of Allegiance, we are always placing an asterisk at the end of the pledge. We pledge allegiance with the understanding that allegiance to God comes first. We pledge allegiance as long as the nation remains under God.
But now I wonder about that even. Just what are we pledging? What are we promising to do? I guess this is sort of like an oath, and oaths make me uneasy anyway. But I especially worry when I’m not even sure what I am pledging. What does it mean to be loyal to the flag and to the country? Up to what point? In what ways?
When I got married, I made a pledge to my wife (pledging her my troth, for those that like the old language). I understand what those vows involve. I’m not sure what these vows involve. And I’m not sure that I’m altogether comfortable with making a promise to an earthly kingdom. But I’m more than willing to learn, so please enlighten me with your views. Just what’s being pledged?

Alien life

The New Testament repeatedly tells us that we are aliens on this earth, part of the Diaspora, the scattering of God’s people. What does it mean to live like an alien?
And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth.” (Hebrews 11:13)
I was an alien in Argentina for 15 years. I know what that was like. It was hard to not to want to fit in, to be just like everyone else. I never fully lost my accent, never fully lost my foreign ways. I never stopped hearing that question, “Where are you from?” There was something about me that told people that I wasn’t like them.
People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own.” (Hebrews 11:14)
I wish my spiritual accent were as strong as my Texan accent. I wish that people could tell from hearing me speak that I’m not satisfied to be here, that I’m looking for a country, a heavenly one. I want to live in such a way that people will say “Where are you from?” I don’t want to fit in, don’t want to just be one of the gang.
When I lived in Argentina, I was a responsible neighbor, obeying laws and paying taxes. I tried to do what was right by those around me (even those guys that would sit on the sidewalk and play music full blast for 48 hours straight). Yet I wasn’t Argentine. I couldn’t hold office. I couldn’t vote. I wasn’t from there.
If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one.” (Hebrews 11:15-16)
Do you suppose that Abraham wore a t-shirt that said “Native of Ur and proud”? Did Ruth flaunt her “Moabite University” in her neighbors’ faces? Would Paul have taught all of his converts of the wonders of Tarsus? Do you think the apostles tried to get elected to the Sanhedrin?
There was a time when God’s people had a physical territory here on earth. They could speak lovingly of Zion, where the temple stood, of lovely Jerusalem, the capital of the Israelite kingdom. This was not mere nationalism, at least when correctly understood. This was about the Promised Land, the covenant land. It was a sign of their relationship with God. It was the center of their worship to God, at least the temple was. It didn’t just happen to be their homeland.
The New Testament compares the Promised Land not to a place in this world, but to the land of rest, our eternal sabbath with God. We don’t put down roots here; we let people know that we long for a better country. We are on our way to a heavenly country.
Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.” (Hebrews 11:16)
The city that God has prepared for us isn’t Washington D.C. It’s not New York. It’s not even Abilene. God has called us to be citizens of heaven, to inhabit the kingdom of heaven. When people live with that awareness and show it to the people around them, God is not ashamed to be called their God.
That’s my kingdom. That’s where my citizenship lies. That’s why I’m not as concerned about this election as many are. Certainly I recognize that what happens with the kingdoms of this world can affect my kingdom. I’m told to pray for the government, not for the welfare of any earthly kingdom, but in order for there to be peace that we may spread the gospel. It’s quite possible that we may face what the Israelites faced in Egypt, when a pharaoh arose “that did not know Joseph.” God’s kingdom prospers under adversity more than it does under peaceful conditions. I don’t pray for persecution, but I recognize that it is part of my discipleship. Politics and politicians will never determine my spiritual well-being.
I want to regain my spiritual accent. I want people to understand that no, I’m not from here. I want to live a life that looks forward to a heavenly country, not backwards to an earthly one. I want to live in such a way that God will not be ashamed to be called my God.

Good citizenship

Philippi was a Roman colony. People born in Philippi were Roman citizens by birth, and they were proud of the fact. I’m guessing that “I’m proud to be a Roman where at least I know I’m free” was a popular song.
When Paul writes the Philippians, he keeps this fact in mind. In Philippians 1:27, he asks them to “live citizenly” [politeuomai; to behave as a citizen, as Strong’s says], a phrase he connects with the gospel of Christ. Then in Chapter 3, Paul brags about his heritage and the things that he has left behind as a Christian. Interestingly enough, in his bragging, he doesn’t mention Roman citizenship, something the Philippians would have put at the top of the list. Still, Paul includes it in the “everything” that he now counts as rubbish for the sake of knowing Christ. Then comes the stinger. Paul writes: “Their mind is on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven.” (Philippians 3:19-20)
You’re proud to be Romans, Paul says, but I want you to live as proud of the gospel. When I list the most import things in my life, I don’t even list Roman citizenship, and even the things I list are things I no longer value. They’re like garbage compared to my Christianity. How much less do I value that citizenship? That’s because we have a new citizenship: our citizenship is in heaven.
I’m wondering how well that went over in Philippi.
I know how well it doesn’t go over here.

I Pledge Allegiance


Take a look at this, taken from an article on Pew Research entitled “42% – Christians First, Americans Second

Some people will look at this and worry about the Muslims being too fanatical. I look and worry that the citizens of the Kingdom of God don’t seem to know where their citizenship lies! Only the Nigerians seem to have a clue about this; is it any wonder that churches are multiplying in Africa while they stagnate and die here in the States?

I am a Christian. A citizen of heaven, a subject in the Kingdom of God. I was born in this country and admittedly love it, yet would be willing to see her pass away for the good of the Kingdom. The United States of America is not God’s chosen nation. My passport says that I am a citizen of this country, but it doesn’t tell the whole truth. I am an alien, living out my life away from my homeland. “This world is not my home, I’m just a passing through…”

Paul says that we are fellow-citizens with God’s people (Ephesians 2:19). He says that we are citizens of heaven (Philippians 3:20, written to the Philippians who would have been proud of the Roman citizenship that was theirs by birth). Peter wrote that we should live our lives as “aliens and strangers” (1 Peter 2:11). In fact, it’s always been that way for God’s people. Even when they were living in the Promised Land, they weren’t at home. God told them: “The land is mine and you are but aliens and my tenants.” (Leviticus 25:23) If the people who lived in the land that God had provided for them were supposed to view themselves as aliens in that land, how much moreso should we.

Yet we forget that and get far too comfortable in the land we live in. I lived 15 years in Argentina and came to be very at home there. Yet I was never truly Argentine. (And my accent always gave me away!) What a blessing that was for me, to live those years as an alien. It helps me remember that, even now that I’m back in Texas, I’m still an alien.

There’s an important passage in Hebrews 11. While discussing the men of faith from olden times, the writer says: “These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.” (Hebrews 11:13-16) They recognized that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. And because they didn’t seek an earthly homeland God is not ashamed to be called their God! Does our speech make it clear that we are seeking a celestial homeland? Can everyone tell that we aren’t thinking of a land here on earth? Do we readily acknowledge that we are strangers and exiles? Or are we too busy being proud to be Americans?

The apostle Paul, in Philippians 3, writes about his heritage and his past, his identity as a Jew, a Benjaminite and a Pharisee. He then writes: “But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith— that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.” (Philippians 3:7-11) Does this sound like a man who would walk up and down the street waving a flag? He considered everything else as manure compared to his status in Christ. I hope one day to learn to do the same.

I am a Christian. First and foremost. Above all else. I have a national identity document from Argentina that identifies me as a resident alien. I should have one from the United States saying the same thing. My citizenship is in heaven.

I pledge allegiance to my God,
All else falls far behind.
No land, no piece of earthly sod,
Can my obedience bind.
May my love for this world and the kingdoms thereof,
Not make me forget what I read in the Word.
My citizenship lies not here but above.
My true loyalty belongs to my Lord.