Our local Methodist Church has an American flag standing parallel to the alter.
Not only is this flag an eye-sore, neon-light like in a small church decorated with sweet stained glass, and simple Protestant decor, it’s wrong theologically and wrong in our Constitutional Republic.
Our congregation doesn’t worship America — or at least I don’t, nor do I believe any Methodist worth their salt would so worship. And I suspect I am not “worshipping” as many of theses folks, for I use imagination to shape and bend the words to my meaning, while not alienating the community. It’s a practice.
The most mportant thing about this flag is that it smells of nationalism, and there’s a little thing called the wall separating church and state.
The wall that the theocrats are always trying to tear down.
Truth be told, it’s the only wall conservatives don’t like, the one between church and state. Every other wall, they love, but the one between church and state: “Tear it down! Tear it down!”
A few months ago, our pastor made a few veiled swipes at Obama, but he’s moved away from that. I’d like to think that my vocal influence helped.
But apparently, muddying the boundaries flies in theses parts. Given that we’re hearing so much about respect and flags as strong people of good conscience put themselves in the line of fire for the greater good, my mind was dazzled with an idea this morning:
Take the knee this Sunday, during prayers. As I always sit in the front, and nearly opposite the flag, it would be an easy move. If the church has the audacity (or unmitigated gall) to bring the state into its walls, than as one devoted to love’s justice, I should take the knee in solidarity with my sisters and brothers who need me, wherever I am.
It’s a small act, but certainly if we’re going to get all messy with our boundaries, then messy boundaries are to be embraced and used.
Moments of rebellion, here in rural Maine.