Some weeks, my prompt for writing comes from newspaper headlines or scripture. 

This week, I am writing in response to two family-member big events: 

Mark is spending the weekend in prison, and JoJo was just elected President of the United States.

Prison and President

Now that I have your attention, I’ll acknowledge that both of those events require a bit of unpacking:

Mark is working a Kairos weekend at Bridgeport Correctional Facility. He left very early Thursday; he’ll be back Sunday evening. In the meantime, he is sharing the good news of freedom in Jesus Christ with a large group of men who are better acquainted with lack of freedom and abundant bad news. 

Mark loves working with Kairos prison ministries. Some of his closest-to-Christ moments have occurred during those Spirit-filled days when souls are surrendered and lives are transformed and “doing time” becomes a bridge to forever! And I love seeing how shiny-with-Jesus he is when he returns home. My bet is that he will spend his “retirement” years working full-time for Kairos.

JoJo was elected “President of the United States” by her school community on Friday. Her Civics class, a year-long scholarly deep dive into the nuts and bolts of our government and political history, wrapped up the year with a mock election. JoJo was the Presidential candidate for the Blue Party (not to be confused with the Other Blue Party, she hastened to clarify – one of several witticisms in her presentation which had her listeners laughing). She gave a speech, participated in a short debate with her opponent, and thanked her teachers in front of a large audience of fellow students plus parents. Her victory was all the sweeter since she became the first female elected to the highest office in the land (which is, as she put it, “just plain cool”).

What connects a school event and a weekend of ministry to incarcerated men – besides the personal stake I have in both things? 

Citizenship & Discipleship

Simply this: the fact that neither event could / would take place without both the earthly protections and provisions of U.S. citizenship and the eternal motivations of Christian discipleship.

Mark can only go into prison as a missionary because American prisons are held accountable to standards of safety and public transparency. Mark can only go into prison as a Christian missionary because freedom of religion is guaranteed to all Americans, incarcerated or not. (No one is ever coerced to attend a Kairos weekend… there are long waiting lists of those who want to attend but cannot be accommodated because of lack of space.) 

So, Mark’s motivation for going is from the Lord, but Mark’s covering as he goes is from the good ole U.S.A.

Similarly, JoJo’s ability to stand in front of a group of people and outline political priorities that are at odds with the actual current administration is guaranteed her by the Constitution. Her platform emphases – school choice, strong defense to deter aggressors, secure borders but welcome for legal immigrants, and protection for the unborn – are from the Lord, but her covering for stating them is from the good ole U.S.A.

Catastrophic Catalysts

Perhaps because of the invasion of Ukraine, perhaps because of the Orwellian “war on Covid” in Shanghai, perhaps because of the clash of government vs. business titans in Florida, the past few months have had me thinking about what it means to “be American” much more than I usually do. 

I am hardly unique in this… Local school boards, city councils, police headquarters, college campuses – institutions and individuals have recently had quite a lot to say about what being American means (and what it has meant – and what it should mean). 

Even the fact that so many of us disagree so vehemently with one another underscores the unique privilege of American-ness: our government literally rests on the premise that citizens should be willing to die for their neighbor’s right to disagree with them. (This distinctive appears in its proper light when one recalls how many other governments rest on the premise that a government must be willing to kill anyone who disagrees with it. Ahem.)

A Great Cloud of Witnesses

Granted, much of what we call “Christian nationalism” represents neither the best of America nor the truth of the gospel. 

But many of the most dedicated and servant-hearted Christians I know are also earnest patriots – often veterans, too – and their lives and witness testify to the possibility of being both uncompromising in faith and gracious in public life. 

Their witness holds me accountable during this season of introspection: failing to leverage the privilege I have as an American is not quite equivalent to shrugging off Jesus’s call on my life, but it almost is. 

In fact, mulling over Mark’s weekend warrior-for-the-Kingdom sacrifice and JoJo’s public-service-apprenticeship, I am coming to the conclusion that citizenship is a stewardship issue. 

“From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required; and from the one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded,” Jesus promised. (Luke 12:48) 

As Americans, what have we not been given?! 

As Americans, what has not been entrusted to us?!

Here’s the kicker: when I understand the peace, prosperity, and endless prerogatives that are my everyday reality as gifts from God rather than entitlements of citizenship, I become both a better Christian AND a better American. 

Sacrificial blood

I am a Christian only by virtue of the perfect blood of Jesus Christ, offered on my behalf. Jesus died that I might live forever with Him.

And I am an American only by virtue of the blood of thousands upon thousands of imperfect people who made the ultimate sacrifice on my behalf. They died that I might live this life in freedom.

Of course, I do not mean to equate the sacrifice of anyone, ever, with the sacrifice of Christ – His suffering and its salvific results are without parallel.

But there is a distinctive way in which the sacrifice of men and women who gave their lives to defend America mimics Christ’s saving action: there is no way to repay the debt we owe them, either. 

And while they did not (could not) win for us forgiveness of sin nor eternal life, they could and did win for us the opportunity to live this life in open, fearless pursuit of the One in whom we have Life. 

Rights and Responsibilities

For an American Christian, is there any right more precious than free exercise of religion?

For a Christian American, is there any responsibility more serious than leveraging our freedom to offer the freedom of Jesus to others?

Citizenship

The apostle Paul tells us that “our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.” (Philippians 3:20) 

But it’s instructive to notice how many times Paul used his own Roman citizenship to extend the reach of his evangelistic efforts. 

In this both / and, Paul is a terrific role model for us: he never waffles on his primary allegiance, Jesus Christ. But he never squanders his status as a Roman or as a Pharisee when that status can further the aim of spreading the gospel.

Complete allegiance and obedience to the Lord.

Faithful stewardship of the freedoms the Lord has provided to us in our American-ness.

Either one of those aspirational conditions is a stretch, and together they represent an impossible ideal! 

But we serve the One for whom nothing is impossible. 

And we “can do all things through Christ who strengthens” us. (Philippians 4:13)