I’m looking forward to this evening. Carolina, Andrea and I are going to see “Pirates of Penzance” at ACU tonight. I really enjoy listening to Gilbert and Sullivan, and I’ve never seen the entire show of “Pirates.” I’m already laughing at the jokes, and the show is still 12 hours away!

Getting into the mood, I was humming a little Gilbert and Sullivan this morning, albeit from “H.M.S. Pinafore.” It was the song “He Is An Englishman” The part I was remembering was:

For he might have been a Roosian,
A French, or Turk, or Proosian,
Or perhaps Itali-an!

But in spite of all temptations
To belong to other nations,
He remains an Englishman!

Maybe I’m remembering that because I was at a citizenship ceremony on Tuesday. Carolina was naturalized as a citizen of the United States. We went to Dallas (OK, Irving) for the 8:30 a.m. ceremony, which is a lovely time to be facing the traffic in the Metroplex.

If you’ve read much on this blog, you can imagine that I had mixed feelings about the whole thing (If not, you can read some of the articles in the “Citizens of Heaven” category). Basically, Carolina was looking to simplify her passport situation. Her Argentine passport has her maiden name on it, while all of her documentation from here has her married name. There was just too much explaining to do with all of it.

As the time for the ceremony drew near, I realized that I was thinking of my mixed feelings, but hadn’t really talked to Carolina about hers. So the night before, I asked her how she felt about the upcoming ceremony. “A bit sad,” was her reply. I hadn’t thought about that aspect, the feeling of being called on to “renounce” your prior citizenship. I reminded her that this was just a technicality, that as far as Argentina was concerned, she would remain Argentine.

So naturally, one of the first things they did at the ceremony was ask people to stand at the naming of their “former nationality.” [insert face plant] Then there was the oath, which begins by declaring that the person is renouncing all allegiance “to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty.” [I couldn’t help thinking that maybe we should include that when we baptize someone!] The oath also calls for a willingness to aid in warfare, though it seemed to leave the door open for noncombatant and conscientious objector status.

When we came out of the ceremony, Carolina said to me, “Now I’m like you.” I said, “No, now you’re like the kids. I’m the only one in the family who only has one passport.” [Maybe someday they’ll come up with a better system, maybe a universal passport of some sort.]

I know that there is a big part of Carolina that will remain an Argentine, just as there is a part of me that retains loyalty to nations of this world even as I claim my true citizenship, my heavenly one.