Our churches, national mythos, and worldviews are poisoned by the legacy of colonization to greater and lesser extents. Religious-political arguments like the Doctrine of Discovery have been used to both take away land and justify it as God's blessing upon a chosen people. More accurately, the very origin of our country is based on the exclusion and oppression of indigenous persons and the forced enslavement of African peoples. These aren't mere accidents to an otherwise sacred mission to redeem the world. When looking at our historical trajectory, it's not difficult to conclude that our current system of racialized mass incarceration is not an aberration: we have been a nation of colonization, ethnic cleansing, enslavement, and oppression. That is our heritage.
I dislike the word "patriotism," with all the hand-over-heart symbolism and "freedom isn't free" rhetoric, though I love a good satire. I'm not particularly proud of our country, but I am proud of many of the amazing people who have struggled in profound ways to challenge our exclusive habits. They've dedicated their lives on behalf of others, often out of religious conviction, simultaneously transforming our understandings of what it means to be an American as well as a person of faith.
In spite of our frustrating rhetoric of being an "exceptional nation," there is so much beauty in the land, peoples, stories, and journeys that make up this multitude of voices and perspectives we call the United States. Regardless of all the mistakes our country has made (and continues to make), I still hope for this place in which we live. Nations come and go (as will ours), but communities and places endure. Rather than pledge allegiance to any flag, I pledge allegiance to the land and communities that raised me and taught me to love myself as I am and to love my neighbor likewise. I'd rather sing "This is My Song" or "Lift Every Voice and Sing" than "God Bless America" any day of the week.
Loving the land if not the nation,
Timothy Murphy
Executive Director