By Jim Nichols

The question from the church class leader sought to stimulate thinking and it certainly did at our table of four. Randomly arranged with three women that I knew only slightly, we were a group that surprised me with the number of ideas and consensus that we had. The consensus may reflect that our collective age was the highest in that room of tables; whether that was positive or negative is uncertain but perhaps influenced our perspectives.

The question the leader posed was: “What are some concepts that were taught to you in earlier years that you now either reject or have substantially revised?”

Immediately, one of the women answered, “the role of children.” She explained that she was taught that “. . . children should be seen but not heard.” She continued that there were certainly necessary boundaries for children, but she eloquently spoke about the simplicity and wisdom of children and how much earlier generations might have missed because they were attempting to control the children’s behavior so carefully. I thought she tenderly and persuasively made her point.

Another woman quickly followed by identifying “the role of women.” She initially spoke of women’s activities in a church setting (i.e., when to be “silent” or not a “leader” but, instead, a “follower.”) She graduated from that limitation to speak about women in leadership in businesses, government, and society in general. A listener had the feeling that she had fought tough battles through her years and was not in any mood to go back to those times again.

Those first two suggestions led naturally to a discussion of their previous understanding of marriage and how they have modified that now. Since I do not know these women well, I have no context for their comments, but, reading between the lines, I sensed that they were taught a more restrictive and narrow view of marriage and were now glad that at least part of modern society has broadened that.

The fourth concept of the group took a different tack and stimulated more thought from me now that the class is over, including today. Members of the group felt that they were taught a view of patriotism that they either did not support now or had at least substantially re-thought leading to different conclusions. 

Born while my father was fighting in Italy during World War II, my young years included a strong view of “America first” thinking. This overlapped into a clear dose of militarism that was in harmony with most of my friends and their parents. Derogative terms for the Japanese and German people were common. A thrilling activity for my young self was for my father to take me to the local Army Surplus Store where one could purchase such items as a genuine military canteen. It came with a webbed belt, and I envisioned its history in battle. Although my mother discouraged it, I liked going to a neighbor boy’s house and reading his war comic books. 

The Korean War came and went and my love of country (warped as it was) continued.

As a young adult, I began to realize my country had serious flaws. Racial prejudice and economic imbalance in society became obvious. Lying political leaders were hard to miss. Tragic military involvement such as Vietnam drained both the country and me of our blindness to American moral blunders.

Those years were accompanied by my growing consideration of how my country pride did or did not fit with my understanding of God’s will for my life and for the lives of people I love.

Patriotism was sandwiched between extremes of blind allegiance by some and an absolute denial by others. Author Peter W. Marty suggests an alternative aptly named “constructive patriotism.”

If, as Christ’s followers, we wish to be something other than just critics or adopters, we need to seek a role that includes both honesty and love. John Lewis was not the first to use it, but “tough love” fits here. Can we apply our faith as a loving critic to legislative, administrative, and judicial interests? Policies and leadership need to be molded by ethical and moral scrutiny. Do we see that today? We need to call for it. Let us remember that our first loyalty is to the manger and the cross.

Jim Nichols is a retired Abilene Christian University biology professor and current hospital chaplain