Patriot (noun) 1. A person who loves, supports, and defends his or her country and its interests with devotion.
--Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary
It was the biggest American flag I have ever seen, a
gargantuan flag, a sea of red, white and blue fabric. It covered the entire
field in a 9/11 remembrance ceremony held before the New England Patriots
football game this past Sunday evening in Arizona. How big was that symbol of America? Try 300
hundred feet long by 160 feet wide, so huge that it took more than a hundred
people to unfurl and then hold it still, as Kristen
Chenoweth, sang “The Star Spangled Banner”.
As the music swelled and the 80,000 plus folks assembled there stood for
the anthem, it made me wonder.
Is that what it means to be patriotic and a patriot, to really
love the nation you call home? Is one a patriot because you know all the words
to a song and then sing it out loud at a sports game? Or if you take off your
hat and stand up and then cheer loudly at the end?
Is that patriotism?
Earlier that day I was blessed to visit a little known but
amazing private museum in Natick, Massachusetts, the Museum of World War II.
It houses one of the largest collections of WWII memorabilia in the world. I spent two and half hours roaming through
the halls of that place, saw some amazing and breathtaking items, all lovingly
preserved, from the greatest social cataclysm of the last century. I touched a pair of binoculars salvaged from the
USS Arizona, a ship which went down on December 7, 1941, when America was
attacked at Pearl Harbor. It gave me
pause, made me think about the men and women who died that day, trying their
best to defend their homeland and protect their fellow citizens. Millions and millions of American soldiers
and civilians and citizens all somehow came together in the war years, defeated
fascism, defended freedom.
Is that patriotism? To put one’s life on the line for
others, in courage and in service?
Earlier in the week I worked at the polls on our statewide
Primary Day, checked local voters in. From 7 to 11 am I sat behind a table and
crossed folks’ names off a voter list, then handed my neighbors a ballot. The turnout was low but next November 8th
it will be a different story as our nation chooses a President. On that day and night, if past trends hold, more
than 90 percent of my neighbors here in town will vote. Go into a private booth. Choose the man or
woman who will guide our ship of state and have the power to wage war or to
seek peace, to unite or divide us. All
because we as citizens will give one of those candidates the power to do
so. We vote because they work for us.
Is that patriotism?
To exercise this civic responsibility to choose our leaders?
Lately our culture has been caught up in one of our periodic
debates about just what it means to be a patriot and patriotic, sparked by the
refusal of a professional athlete to stand during the playing of the national
anthem at a football game. For a few days it was all the talk on social media
and the airwaves. Some labeled him a traitor to his country for that act,
declaring he is anything but a patriot.
Others have defended the protest, declaring that his freedom to dissent
is what makes a patriot, a patriot.
But it begs the questions. What is patriotism? Who is a patriot? Who is not? And who gets to
decide?
Is patriotism about symbols and rituals? Like the flag I fly outside of my house. A
lapel pin I sport on my suit. A red
white and blue peace bumper sticker on my car.
Watching fireworks on the 4th of July, and then cheering when
the veterans march on by in a parade. When I rise at Fenway Park
and sing along with 40,000 other folks that “our flag was still there.” Is that
it? Can I claim the title of patriot if
I do no more than cover myself in the appearance and trappings of patriotism?
Or is patriotism about something more substantial, more
concrete, more sacrificial even? Like
serving in the military, or at the least, as a citizen, supporting those women
and men who defend me. Thanking them. Making sure that when they come home they
have all the services and resources they need to pick up their lives
again. Paying my fair share of taxes:
maybe that’s what a patriot does.
Recognizes that part of our national covenant with and to one another is
taking the fruits of what we’ve earned in freedom and then sharing it with
those who have less or need a hand up or help. Is patriotism found in those who
push back against the government, who protest in sincerity and non-violence?
Maybe patriotism happens when we volunteer in our communities—build a Habitat
for Humanity house, coach Little League, tutor an inner city kid, serve a meal
at a homeless shelter. Is patriotism somehow connected to affirming the truth
that we are all in this experiment called democracy together, and that
we need each other.
What does it mean to be patriotic and a patriot?
I don’t claim to have a lock on just how to answer that
question; nor do I feel I have the right to say just who is a patriot and who
is not. I can only speak for myself. But
this I do know: a patriot’s job is to constantly ask one’s self: “If I really
do love my country, then what am I doing to embody and act on this devotion?”
So I’ll keep flying my American flag in gratitude, but for
me, there has got to be more than just this, to being a patriot and to being
patriotic.
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