“Here they come!”
My grandmother’s words rang out against the din of the parade. I craned my neck to see around the street bend, and low and behold, she was right. There sat my grandfather in his truck, pulling a replica float of the Washington Monument on a trailer he had spent months building and preparing. He had put his heart and soul into it, and it was clearly a labor of love.
At the base of the monument stood several veterans of the Gulf War, returned from their recent deployment. As they slowly pulled past, the scene was like that of a movie.
Summer heat, Stars and Stripes galore, John Philip Sousa music blaring from speakers attached to Norm’s (my granddaddy’s) truck. To my 11-year-old mind, this was what I imagined when I first thought of patriotism—the nostalgic celebration of the culture my community had built in a small town in the United States of America I could feel the humidity of the air, hear the brass instruments on mediocre speakers, see members of the Greatest Generation wearing flag T-Shirts and hootin’ and hollerin’. Patriotism is the willingness to fulfill an obligation to one’s country over one’s self. My first brush with patriotism will always be this, honoring the men and women that were willing, even if not required, to give that last full measure of devotion.
I come from a long line of patriots. Men and women on both sides of my family have dedicated their lives to service. My grandparents, uncles, cousins, and more have served. My father is a West Point graduate and went on to serve for most of my life in the Army Reserves. My grandfather has become known in his community as “Mr. Patriotism.” He still gets emotional, speaking about the service of others.
“What a price we have had to pay! Somehow we’ve got to convey the message to our young people.”
In our late modern world, we are obsessed with binary choices at the expense of real-world experience. Something is either “the best ever” or “terrible and not worth our time.” Yet life, and our obligations, are not like this. Our obligations as Christians and as citizens of the USA extend beyond “are you willing to die for your country right now?”.
When I think of all the small obligations that go into patriotism, I can think of no better summation than a line from Field of Dreams:
“What makes this guy special? There are thousands of men just like this!”
That is Terrance Mann (James Earl Jones), a “liberal anti-war hippie” from Boston, speaking to Kevin Costner’s “normie” conservative farmer from Iowa. Despite many differences, the two share a common love of baseball (and an obvious allusion to the United States of America). Together, they have been called to track down Moonlight Graham, a player that *almost* got a shot in the Major Leagues. He gave it up though, to go and live a life of obligation to his community. He married, raised a family, served his community, gave free medical care to children, and was a pillar of his small town. Why is this man different from all the other men and women that do the same? The answer is that he’s not, of course. That shared sense of obligation to the ever-expanding circle of our lives, and the willingness to put that first over what we selfishly desire, that is the beating heart of patriotism. In all the little things, service to our schools, our local church, our families—patriotism is present. In the larger things, a willingness to submit to a democratically elected opponent, paying taxes, valuing truth over winning, those are the things of patriotism.
My father came and spoke at my children’s elementary school this past fall for a Veteran’s Day assembly. He spoke on what it means to serve one’s country. He broke it down for their young understanding, but its truth was the same. Being a good citizen, serving our communities, striving to be a good student, even telling our teachers “thank you” – those are acts of patriotism and service.
Our Nation is an ever changing cultural milieu, yet this shared sense of obligation to our fellow Countrymen and to the Nation itself defines American and makes it great.
Our nation is an ever-changing cultural milieu, yet a shared sense of obligation to our fellow countrymen and to the nation itself defines America and makes it great. As divided as we may seem culturally and politically, our unity stems from a willingness to fulfill our obligations and the steadfast belief that the vast majority of Americans on the other side of our cultural divide will fulfill their obligations as well. What my 40-year-old brain realizes that my 11-year-old brain did not is that my grandfather was most thankful for the freedom those men provided. Freedom for us to live our lives, freedom to build our communities, and freedom to pass on the sense of obligation to the next generation. He was interviewed by a local newspaper on his 95th birthday (he turns 98 this month), and when asked what his philosophy has been on life, he replied,
“If you put something in, you’ll get something out. It’s not what you can do for me, but what you can do for others.”
I’m grateful to be in a family that has done that particularly well and will help me pass it on to my children.
