The flavor of Tea, Part 2

So there I was in a sea of bobbing signs, cheering along with thousands to the speeches of FreedomWorks president Matt Kibbe and its chairman Dick Armey, Ginni Thomas (founder of LibertyCentral.org and wife of Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas), Rep. Mike Pence (R-Ind.), and the Rev. C. L. Bryant (a former NAACP member).

But like the introvert I am, I was also looking at myself while I was looking at the scene. And I was noticing that there was something blocking me. Something that inhibited my full liberality of expression amongst the crowd. What was it, I wondered?

Partly, of course, it was that I am a typical snotty child of the '60s, so the clasping of the right hand over the heart in pledge of allegiance to the flag and the full-throated singing of "God Bless America" are bodily functions I hadn't performed since third grade in Catholic school. It takes a while for the neurons to get used to those pathways again, after my long flirtation with counter-culture chic.

That's the shameful part. But there was another blockage---or speed bump, at least---that may be worth heeding. It was that, even as I was chanting for my country, I was aware, in the stillness of my heart, that my country is not my primary allegiance. Oh, to be sure, I have it straight in my head that I am to love my country and seek its good. Heck, even ancient Israel in captivity was commanded to seek the good of the nation where they were captives: "Pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare" (Jeremiah 29:7). How much more the welfare of the nation where I am a free citizen?

But the point is that my allegiance to America is not absolute in the same way that my allegiance to God is. I have to always be aware that if the country veers down one lane and God wants to turn down the other, my choice is cut out for me. And that fact does something imperceptible to the way I cheer at rallies.

There's a third thing. This third hitch that keeps me from giving myself with abandon to some of the language at patriotic rallies is that I keep picturing the prophet Jeremiah standing there. What would his picket sign say? Would he be "rah-rah"? We don't have to guess much because he left a paper trail:

"Return, every one from his evil way, and amend your ways and your deeds" (Jeremiah 18:11b) and, "You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart" (29:13).

Never mind Jeremiah. We have God's own position on the health of nations:

"If my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land" (2 Chronicles 7:14)

So these are the confessions of a lackluster rally-goer. I am ambivalent about my own discovery about myself. On the one hand I wanted to bellow out, loud and strong, with the best of them, that my country is the greatest. I totally understand the rhetorical death knell of over-nuancing and over-qualifying. I totally get that navel-gazing is inimical to a call for bold action. To borrow Paul's words to the Corinthians:

"If even lifeless instruments, such as the flute or harp, do not give distinct notes, how will anyone know what is played? And if the bugle gives an indistinct sound, who will get ready for battle?" (1 Corinthians 14:7-8)

On the other hand, if you want me to say America has no need to clean its own moral closets while it is cleaning out the House on East Capitol Street, I'll probably be the woman standing along the tree-lined wall of the Capital lawn, my hands limp by my side and looking like a party-pooper.

For more on Andrée's experiences related to Sunday's 9/12 Tea Party rally, click here.

To hear commentaries by Andrée Seu, click here.