Let’s be clear about one thing: Biblically speaking, Christian nationalism is a good thing. It’s good indeed—except when it’s bad.
Christian nationalism is in the American news all the time, of course, and because America is in the world’s news all the time, it’s now in all news all the time. Christian nationalism, however, is not merely an American phenomenon.
Christian nationalism is part of English identity. The King himself is the head of the Church of England and Christian bishops are on hand for every major state event.
Christian nationalism is part of other European identities as well, whether ceremonies in cathedrals, crosses in national coats of arms, or even the word “Christian” in the names of political parties and other institutions. (My favourite example of a Christian institutional name is the Banco di Santo Spirito—the Bank of the Holy Spirit—founded in the seventeenth century by a Roman Catholic pope and whose business signs startled me when touring several European cities years ago.)
Christian nationalism is essential to the “Mother Russia” ideology currently and cynically being fomented by Russian President Putin and his cronies at the head of the Russian Orthodox Church. It is also part of modern South Korean identity as a stark departure from Chinese and Japanese political and cultural domination.
It is present, albeit in a typically mild way, even in Canada—a country whose motto is taken from the Bible “He shall have dominion A Mari Usque Ad Mare” (Psalm 72) while a (slim) majority of Canadian citizens continue to identity as Christian. And our Aussie and Kiwi counterparts may have the most Christian flags in the world, as they sport the Southern Cross constellation alongside the overlaid crosses of St. George, St. Andrew, and St. Patrick in the British Union flag.
Just a minute, though. How can all these phenomena be lumped together under one heading, “Christian nationalism”? And what about the unsavoury elements apparent in at least some forms of it: national chauvinism, censorship, xenophobia, racism, sexism, curtailment of human rights, even theocracy?
I want now to address in particular Christian mothers. I do so for three reasons. First, despite the linkage in many minds of patriotism with machismo, it remains obviously true that identity and values, including those of the nation, are taught most early and most deeply to each of us by our mothers.
Second, polls tell us that Christian mothers in the United States are conspicuously supportive of Donald Trump. Not all of them are, of course. But it is surprising how many have decided, however reluctantly, that this Misogynist-in-Chief is fit to preside over their land and society.
Let’s see, then, if we can offer an alternative so that the Trumped-up brand of nationalism is not the only brand available to earnest parents trying to instill a proper combination of Christian and national values in their offspring. And if we can do that for American moms, we can help moms elsewhere also.
Third, mothers are busy people who have no time for professorial pronouncements full of circumlocutive silliness. They properly demand clear and simple ideas to pass along to their young charges. So if I can succeed in assisting this vital audience, I expect I can be of service to others as well.
In what follows, I am not going to distinguish between Christian nationalism and Christian patriotism. Political scientists and historians have argued over whether the former denotes an ethnic allegiance while the latter denotes allegiance to a political body, such as a state or empire. I also won’t get into the complexities of defining a nation, as social scientists enjoy arguing over the respective importance of language, territory, history, folkways, religion, and more.
An unexpectedly informative guide to some of these matters is freely available online: the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Let’s take our definition from the article on nationalism by Croatian philosopher Igor Primoratz.
Paraphrasing him, we will define nationalism as love of one’s nation, identification with it, and special concern for its well-being. This love will include beliefs about and admiration for the merits of one’s nation. And this love will stem from a basic human need to belong to a group and be a part of a more encompassing narrative, to be related to a past and a future that transcend the narrow confines of an individual’s life and its mundane concerns.
Some Christians may immediately go on alert. They recall Paul declaring that in Christ “there is no longer Jew or Greek; there is no longer slave or free; there is no longer male and female, for all of you are one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28). Wouldn’t the universal familyhood of the Church preclude any particular sentiments, let alone preferential treatment, toward one’s own nation?
First, let’s notice that the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost did not suddenly render all Christians nationless, classless, or sexless. Christians continued to be Jews and Greeks. In fact, the Jerusalem Council in Acts 15 responded to Paul’s concerns about Gentile churches being subjected to Jewish ways by recognizing the ethnic difference and authorizing different patterns of life for the two groups.
Christians also continued to be slave or free, and the New Testament tells them how to treat each other properly in those roles, just as it does “male and female” members of the Church.
Second, let’s notice what the Bible prophesies about that great day when the whole earth streams toward the New Jerusalem to worship the returned Saviour. We will do so led by national leaders who devote to the Lord not only ourselves but also the distinctive cultural treasures of each people: “Your gates shall always be open; day and night they shall not be shut, so that nations shall bring you their wealth, with their kings led in procession” (Isaiah 60:11).
Finally, let’s notice that the New Testament, following the command and practice of Jesus himself, urges Christians to honour our parents and also those put by God in authority over us. Political authority is explicitly discussed, but the similar commands to slaves, wives, and children are consistent with the teaching that all legitimate authority is to be honoured.
Paul puts the matter sharply—and financially: “And whoever does not provide for relatives, and especially for family members, has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever” (I Timothy 5:8).
The social structures in which God has placed us—especially family, but also by extension one’s city and one’s nation—constitute our neighbours, and thus those whom we are immediately to love. Only God can love the whole world equally. We are to love those with whom God has given us a relationship.
Christian nationalism, therefore, is natural: loving one’s national neighbours in the name of the God who gave us to each other. Just as we properly seek the good of our families in ways or to degrees we do not seek the good of any other, so it follows that we seek the good of our city or of our nation as our priority. These are the communities God has immediately given us to serve.
Three major qualifications now must be added to this picture.
First, loving one’s country means helping it toward shalom—and that means judging and remediating its vices as well as celebrating and strengthening its virtues.
(Sorry. No decent mother would try saying that to her children. Let me try again.) Loving your country means helping it get better: fixing what’s wrong and improving what’s right.
I love you. I love you as you are, but I want you to be better. In fact, I want you to be the best possible version of yourself, and I will do everything I can to help you get there. That’s what Christian nationalism means also, what loving your nation requires.
(For Christians, of course, fundamental to becoming better is getting right with God through Christ and getting in step with the Spirit. Then all else that is good should follow, in the spreading outward of God’s rich goodness.)
Second, loving one’s nation does not mean ignoring our God-given mission to others. Just because we love our own family doesn’t mean we shouldn’t love other families. Just because we love our own city doesn’t mean we shouldn’t love other cities. Just because we love our own nation doesn’t mean we shouldn’t love other nations. Other nations are our neighbours, too. And in a world joined together by airplanes and ships and telephone lines and the Internet, we are all neighbours now.
To be sure, we can’t love everybody in the world equally. If we try to spread our little bits of money and prayer time and attention and emotion equally across our giant globe, we won’t do any good for anyone anywhere.
So we care for the neighbours closest to us—and for whatever neighbours God also brings to our attention. Maybe they are people we connect with through business, or sports, or music, or even just tourism. Maybe we hear about them, and we feel especially badly about their special needs, and we think God has given us what it takes to help them.
It would be a selfish family that cared only about itself. We mustn’t be that kind of family, and we mustn’t be that kind of nation.
Third, according to the New Testament, our proper, natural love for our family, our city, and our nation is put second—sometimes even put aside—in favour of loving one’s Christian family, the Christian city, and the Christian nation all over the world. Above all, we are to love God and love God’s new family created by the Spirit in the name of Jesus Christ.
In this new situation brought about by our membership in the Church, we care for our families and cities and nations as usual, but we also, and especially, care for one another in our local congregation. Moreover, we care for other Christians with whom we have what might be called the “neighbourly connections” God has caused to happen in our lives: denominational connections, or regional connections, or connections through international organizations.
Again, it doesn’t make sense to try to care for all Christians everywhere. God calls us to love our neighbours. So who are the ones God has brought near to us, has connected to us somehow? Those are the “nigh ones” God has placed nearby for us to love.
Before we conclude, you’ll have noticed that I haven’t gotten into whether and to what extent Christian principles, let alone particular Christian Scriptures (like the Ten Commandments) or all of them (!), should be written into the laws of the land. I haven’t made any remarks about what kind of politics is suggested by the Bible for Christian nationalists to seek for their countries.
That’s because, as a theologian, I see no particular political system suggested in the Bible for modern Christians to implement. That’s also because, as a historian, I’m impressed by how no political system gets it all right. I’m equally impressed that some systems seem to work better—that is to say, produce more shalom and especially for the most needy—in some times and places and not in others.
Christians will continue to disagree about the complexities of contemporary politics in the very various situations facing us around the world. We will have arguments about priorities and programs. And if we will at least occasionally shut up and listen to each other (also a Biblical principle of communication), we will improve those priorities and programs. We won’t get everything perfect, but we can do better—together. So let’s try.
Christian nationalism itself doesn’t imply any single form of politics for everyone everywhere at every time. Because God loves us and wants us to thrive, God’s Spirit instead will help each nation figure out what’s needed to make the next step forward toward maximal shalom—if we will truly consult God and treat each other lovingly as we deliberate.
If we don't behave like that, if we flatly disobey God by going our own way—even if we put crosses on our flags and include Christian slogans in our national symbols—we can expect not to hear the Spirit and be left to our own devices. Witness the current political landscape pretty much everywhere. But today is another day, so we can’t give up. Christian nationalism means pressing for national shalom however we can.
In sum:
Loving your family, your city, and your country is good.
Making an idol of your family, your city, or your country and disregarding everyone else is bad.
And loving God’s Church—which is God’s family, God’s city, and God’s nation—most of all . . . is central.
God will not bless our nation if we regard our own good and no one else’s. God calls all people to love their neighbours—not just Christians.
Furthermore, God calls nations to a standard of care higher than that of mere justice. Both Testaments tell us that love, both mercy and grace, are expected as well, even from governments—and especially toward the economically, politically, and socially powerless: in Bible terms, the widow, the orphan, and the foreigner (i.e., “the stranger”).
In God’s sight, Christian nations are not better nations because they are Christian nations. They are better nations because they are better nations—by the Biblical standards of justice and love, by the producing of maximal shalom.
The Biblical test of Christian nationalism, therefore, is whether we love God and love our neighbours as, yes, we love ourselves. So, Christian mothers, tell your kids that God expects me to care for my family, my city, and my nation. Tell them also, however, that God will judge us if our love stops there. Then our Christian nationalism would be no longer Christian, but service to a very different spirit, a very different god.
