Spiritual connections: Of faith and patriotism

I was raised to be a patriot.

My grandparents were all immigrants from Ireland. They left their nation as young adults in the wake of generations of colonial oppression, the fallout from famine, and a crushing lack of opportunity. Their lives had been directly impacted by the uprising; in fact, my grandfather ran away from his mother’s farm to join the local battalion of the IRA. A few decades later, with very small children and without my grandmother’s knowledge, he tried to enlist in the Army during World War II. He was a patriot, through and through.

This family taught me to love the flag, sing anthems like “America the Beautiful” and “My Country ’Tis of Thee” with gusto, and proudly don my Girl Scout uniform to march in our local Fourth of July parade. Even when my parents stood in opposition to this nation’s actions – such as the escalation of the war in Vietnam and the oppression of African Americans – they instilled in us a deep love of freedom and a profound gratitude for everything it means.

A few months ago, Charis Ecumenical Catholic Community participated in the Interfaith Circle World Religion Sunday event. Our contribution was a song my mother loved so much that we sang it at her funeral: “This Is My Song.”

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This is my song, O God of all the nations,
A song of peace for lands afar and mine.
This is my home, the country where my heart is;
Here are my hopes, my dreams, my holy shrine;
But other hearts in other lands are beating
With hopes and dreams as true and high as mine.

These lyrics are from “This Is My Song,” a hymn set to the tune of Finlandia.

This is the other side of the patriotism with which my folks imbued us. While cherishing all that is unique and marvelous about the American “experiment,” they believed in the beauty and dignity of all people, particularly other immigrants. And that would be all of us who cannot trace our heritage to North American Indigenous roots. 

This was, of course, very catholic in the true meaning of that word. As a Catholic, I am called to build my life and my actions – including my everyday choices – around the seven themes of Catholic Social Teaching: Dignity of the Human Person; Call to Family, Community, and Participation; Basic Human Rights and their Attendant Responsibilities; the Preferential Option for the Poor and Vulnerable; Dignity of Work and the Rights of Workers; Solidarity; and Care for God’s Creation. These principles, all of which derive from the Gospels, exist to guide individuals and communities in their efforts to address social injustices and promote the common good.

All of that said, I do not adhere to the belief that this is a Christian nation, nor to the idea that it should somehow become one. I reject the rise of Christian nationalism, even as I adhere to the belief that the Gospels call me to action. That action, in the civic realm, is grounded in my Christian faith – values that I have found, through my interfaith work, are shared by a broad spectrum of neighbors from other faith traditions. I believe that not only do I have a right to peace, but so do others, including those caught in the escalating conflicts in the Middle East.

When my grandparents arrived in the port of New York, there was still grave discrimination against the “dirty” Irish, and Catholicism was ghettoized. Despite that, they reveled in the fact that in the United States, unlike the British colonial domination that plagued their country of origin for centuries, they could live free from domination, suppression of rights (including the right to worship in the Catholic tradition), and speak their native language if they chose. 

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These are the things that inspire me now to push back and speak out; to risk not being sufficiently “Minnesota Nice” in the fight to protect democracy. To denounce the horror of political assassination; the loss of food and health care for millions of children through the elimination of $60 billion in global assistance; to decry the kidnapping of migrants off our streets; to believe that programs like Medicaid and SNAP need protection. To do otherwise would be to turn my back on Catholic social teaching.

So, if you see me out there, I will be peacefully speaking that truth as I have prayerfully come to understand it. In my journey of faith, I have come to believe that I can love Jesus and love this country – but that it is very dangerous to collapse the two. Please join me in praying for justice and peace for all people.

Editor’s note: This column was written by the Rev. Trish Sullivan Vanni, Ph.D., pastoral director and priest of the Charis Ecumenical Catholic Community in Eden Prairie.

Interested in contributing a faith-based column to EPLN? Email editor@eplocalnews.org.