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Patriotism can be a difficult virtue to practice, but the first step is to realize that it is a virtue and an important one at that. Without getting too technical, we can describe patriotism as the love of one’s civic fathers and mothers. It is a reverential love borne of gratitude for the many goods received from the hands of those fathers and mothers: goods such as order, law, peace, unity, concord, beautiful artwork, a witty-wise language like our own English tongue; goods such as national parks, clean drinking water, good roads, the Brooklyn Bridge; and inventions like penicillin, the piano, or flight.
With America’s 250th birthday or Semiquincentennial coming this July 4th and with Memorial Day coming up in this special year in our country’s history, we might do well to think more deeply about overcoming the obstacles to a deeper patriotism this summer and beyond.
In our moral tradition of virtue, patriotism is the virtue concerned with social and political life which compliments two others. First among equals is the virtue of religion, which causes us to worship and revere God and all the things of God, Christ’s bride the Church, the sacraments, the Holy Family, the Holy Land, and much more. Second and closer to home is the virtue of piety, which causes us to first obey, then revere, and finally care for our aging parents and our ancestors. We honor our father and mother; we do not scorn them; and we pray for them always.
Like the third virtue patriotism, religion and piety invite us to remember all the many gifts we have been given by Father God and Mother Church and by our fathers and mothers, grandfathers and grandmothers. In turn, this remembrance leads to right and just worship, veneration, and honor of those who gave us existence, life, education, salvation, and so much more. Religion, piety, and patriotism—it is a beautiful triad of virtues that moves the soul toward duty.
But while the practice of religion seems clearly spelled out by the Church, and while the practice of piety—albeit wounded by the counterexamples in our sickly and too-worldly culture—is known clearly enough by tradition, common sense, and the plain admonition of the Fourth Commandment, the practice of patriotism presents a more complicated set of problems.
Patriotism can on the one hand become a kind of nationalistic pride whereby the virtue is reduced to eagle screams, electric guitars, fighter jet flyovers, and shouts of “’Merica!” While I enjoy all those things (especially eagle screams), the virtue of patriotism surely must be something more profound, more reverential—less about celebrating oneself and more about revering one’s civic fathers and mothers. Another, very different problem for patriotism today is the now prevalent habit of reviling the virtue of patriotism as entirely vicious, jingoistic, unchristian, and a subjection of the soul to mob impulses and in-group hatred of the foreigner.
In either case, what is missing is a profound, informed memory of the great goods and the many, many good deeds and painful sacrifices made by our Founding Fathers, the founding generation, and the subsequent generations of Americans who both settled and defended the United States. To know is to love, and one cannot love one’s forefathers and forebears if one does not even remember what they have done for us.
The obstacles to this loving memory—this engine of gratitude, patriotism, and, as a result, zeal to do one’s duty for one’s country and countrymen—are apparently threefold: we can suffer (1) from lies told about our forefathers, (2) from selective truths told about our forefathers, or (3) from sheer ignorance of the great and many goods they have done for us. Now selective truths are, in essence, another form of lying, so I suppose the problem is only twofold: we either (a) err about those whom we ought to love and honor or (b) we simply do not know about them at all.
How error enters our thinking about our civic forefathers and Founding Fathers is often the result of an agreeable desire for friendship and peace with others. Someone will say something casually critical about local or national historical figures or society. We can tell there is something off about the vitriol or the harshness of the critique, but to maintain the friendship we try to agree to some elements of their argument without really acquainting ourselves with the facts and without fully suspending rash critical judgment of our forefathers as we ought to in accord with patriotism.
By this I mean that we ought to revere and honor our fathers, and so we ought not to casually accede to harsh criticism without verifying the claim. Piety is helpful here by analogy: if someone said something critical of your mother or father’s past, you would not readily believe the flaw without verification. You might even be suspicious of the person who lodged the criticism so casually without clear proof and sources. Patriotism requires not an ignorant or stubborn partiality, but it does call us to be on guard against the now common tactic of hijacking our desire for moderation and agreeableness by causing us to agree to things about American history and forefathers that simply are not so or are not fair.
The only real solution for this all too typical and often acidic attack on our patriotic loves is zealous study. We have a duty, by the virtue of patriotism, to understand the real story of our Founding, to read their words and learn of their deeds. We need fair but not manipulative history, biography, autobiography, and primary sources. For instance, the National Archives Founders Online is a wonderful resource. To learn about the Semiquincentennial event, the signing of the Declaration, I recommend the new works of my colleagues Matthew Spalding and Brad Birzer.
While study is a cure for sheer ignorance as well, there is also to be recommended the exploration of the many historical markers, battlefields, sites, and museums of the United States as well. Taking the extra moment on an outing to stop at the roadside marker and read what labors were done on the land before our time can be a deeply moving way to foster patriotism on both the local and national level.
Finally, do not forget to speak of one’s forefathers and mothers with loving reverence and gratitude. Even speak of one’s fellow citizens this way as best as one can, emphasizing prudently the positive and lovable points in their character. Doing so is charity and not foolishness. Every so often, take a drink of water from the faucet and say out loud before your children, “Do you realize how many of your fellow Americans worked to bring clean water from the river to our sink? Thank God for all their labors and inventiveness. We are truly blessed.”
These little touches of patriotism can most easily be applied to our fallen American dead this Memorial Day, for in man there is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for a friend. In a real sense, patriotism is a part of the delicate art of civic friendship, which is the first step in the deepest friendship we are ever blessed to form. For our 250th birthday, my fellow American Catholics, let us make some effort both to know and to love our country, her people, her principles, and her story of loving care, one generation for the next. If we do so, I am confident that we will also strengthen our familial piety and our practice of that highest virtue of religion.
Author’s Note: To cultivate the virtue of patriotism in your families, immerse them in stories of America’s lands, people, and founding principles. One such compilation, The American Book of Fables, reimagines Aesop for the New World with buffalo and eagles, classic verse, and stunning oil and watercolor illustrations that bring the American landscape to life. Available from Sophia Institute Press and Amazon, or wherever you buy books, this heirloom volume is sure to equip the next generation with the wit, gratitude, and frontier spirit they’ll need to carry forward the republic we’ve been called to love. Watch the video trailer for the book.
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
