Episode 29 - July 4th Edition - Loving America as a Christian

In this special July 4th episode of Flint to Grace, Dr. TJ Klein reflects on what it means to love America as a Christian while keeping Jesus Christ first. As the nation marks 250 years since the adoption of the Declaration of Independence, this episode explores gratitude, patriotism, military service, civic responsibility, and the danger of allowing love of country to become ultimate.

Drawing from Scripture and voices such as Billy Graham, Francis Chan, Matt Chandler, and John MacArthur, Dr. Klein considers how Christians can honor their country without worshiping it, seek the welfare of the place God has planted them, pray faithfully for leaders of every political affiliation, and remember that our highest citizenship is in heaven.

With personal reflections from his Air Force background, his family’s legacy of service, and his work with military-connected students and families, this episode offers a thoughtful, heartfelt call to love America well because we love Christ first.

Transcript

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Hey friends, welcome to the Flint to Grace podcast. We're really glad you're here. In our podcast, we talk about real life, real faith, and how God takes the places and stories that shaped us and turns them into something full of purpose. Each week, Dr. TJ Klein shares reflections from his life growing up in Flint, Michigan, mixed with scripture, honesty, and a whole lot of grace. He's a teacher, a storyteller, and yes, he also happens to be my husband and best friend. I'm Danny Klein, and it's pretty special to introduce him today. Whether you're listening on your commute, doing chores, out on a walk, or just catching a quiet moment, we're grateful you chose to spend part of your day with us. Alright, let's get into it. And here's your host, Dr. TJ Klein.

SPEAKER_01 1:00

Welcome back to Flint to Grace. I'm Dr. T.J. Klein, and today is a special July 4th episode titled Loving America as a Christian. This year we mark a historic milestone, 250 years since the adoption of the Declaration of Independence in 1776. As a nation, we are celebrating the birth of the United States as an independent country, the courageous decision of the Thirteen Colonies to separate from British rule, and the enduring ideals that have shaped our national story, liberty, self-government, human dignity, and the belief that rights are not granted by government, but come from our Creator. It is a day for fireworks and family, yes, but also for memory, gratitude, reflection, and prayer. And this subject is personal for me, not just theological, not just political, and not just seasonal. I love my country. I am grateful for America's freedoms, grateful for those who have served, and grateful for the opportunities and blessings my family has known under her flag. I was born into a military family. My father served in the United States Air Force. I later had the privilege of serving as a meteorologist in the Air Force myself. My son served in the Air Force in security forces, and my youngest son served in the Air Force as a chaplain. Now I serve military connected students and families as a school principal overseas. So when I talk about loving America, I'm not speaking from a distance. I'm speaking from the life I have lived, the people I have served beside, the family members who have answered the call, and the families I have watched carry both pride and sacrifice. But as deeply as I love America, my first love and highest allegiance belong to Jesus Christ. He is my savior, my king, and my ultimate hope. That means my patriotism must always be submitted to His Lordship, shaped by His Word, and measured by His kingdom. Can Christians be patriotic? Should we be patriotic? Is loving our country a good and grateful response to God's blessings, or can it become something dangerous? Something that competes with our loyalty to Christ? Those are important questions, and they deserve more than slogans. They deserve scripture, humility, and a heart willing to be corrected by the Word of God. Because here's the tension, I can love America deeply, and still know America is not my Savior. I can honor the flag and still bow only to the cross. I can be grateful for the freedoms we enjoy and still confess that my highest citizenship is in heaven. Philippians 320 says, Our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. That verse does not make us less responsible on earth. It makes us more faithful while we are here. When you have worn the uniform, stood for the anthem with people who have deployed, watched families say goodbye on flight lines, or sat with children who are trying to understand why a parent is gone again, love of country becomes more than an idea. It has faces, it has names, it has empty chairs at dinner tables, it has folded flags, promotion ceremonies, PCS moves, chapel prayers, and quiet moments when people do their duty even when it costs them. That kind of love deserves to be honored. But as a Christian, I also have to ask, how do I honor that love without letting it become ultimate? That question leads us to the first and most important foundation. Before we talk about patriotism, politics, or civic duty, we have to talk about love and especially the order of our loves. Let's take a break. The first thing we need to say is this. That means our love for family, community, school, church, neighborhood, and country is not automatically wrong. The question is whether those loves are ordered properly. This is where healthy patriotism begins. It begins with what some theologians call rightly ordered love. We love God first. We love country beneath God. We honor our nation, but we do not worship our nation. We appreciate our freedoms, but we do not confuse freedom in America with freedom in Christ. Billy Graham said it well when he warned that it is right and proper to honor our country, rejoice in her liberties, and sing her praise, but that this can be abused when we make it a substitute for God. He said, We honor America, but we do not worship her. That is a strong sentence because it gives us both permission and warning. Permission to be grateful, warning not to make an idol. Idolatry does not always look like bowing before a statue. Sometimes it looks like giving ultimate loyalty, ultimate hope, ultimate fear, or ultimate identity to something God created rather than to God Himself. If I cannot hear criticism of my country without becoming defensive, maybe my love has become fragile. If I excuse sin because it is wrapped in my preferred politics, maybe my love has become selective. If I think the kingdom of God rises or falls with one election, one party, one court decision, or one national movement, then I have forgotten what Jesus said. My kingdom is not of this world. Once we understand that love of country must sit beneath love for God, the next question becomes practical. If America is not our ultimate home, how should we live faithfully in the place where God has put us? One of the clearest passages for this conversation is Jeremiah 29:7. God speaks to his people while they are in exile in Babylon, not their ideal home, not their final home, not even a nation that shared their faith. And yet God says, Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare. That is remarkable. God does not tell his people to disengage. He does not tell them to despise the place where they live. He tells them to seek its welfare and pray for it. If that was true for Israel and Babylon, how much more should Christians seek the good of the communities, cities, bases, schools, neighborhoods, and nation where God has placed us? For many of us, America is not just an abstract idea. It is where our parents worked, where our children were born, where friends served, where families sacrificed, where teachers taught, where churches gathered, where neighbors showed up with meals, where soldiers, sailors, airmen, marines, guardians, and coast guardsmen stood watch, and where imperfect people tried to live out noble ideals. For me, America is also tied to the Air Force, to weather briefings, mission readiness, long hours, and the reality that service is often carried quietly by both those in uniform and the families who love them. To love America as a Christian is not to pretend she is flawless. It is to care enough to pray, serve, participate, and speak truthfully. Healthy patriotism says, because I love my country, I want my country to be more just, more merciful, more truthful, more compassionate, more protective of human dignity, and more faithful to what is good. Blind nationalism says, my country is always right. Christian love says, I will thank God for what is good, grieve what is evil, and work for the welfare of my neighbor. And if we are going to seek the welfare of our country, one of the first ways we do that is by receiving what is good with gratitude while guarding our hearts against worshiping the gift instead of the giver. Welcome back to Flint to Grace. Christians should be people of gratitude. James 117 says, Every good and perfect gift comes from above. If we have enjoyed freedom of worship, freedom of speech, opportunities for education, the rule of law, civic stability, and protection from many forms of oppression that others around the world have faced, we should give thanks. Gratitude is not idolatry. Gratitude becomes idolatry only when the gift replaces the giver. Billy Graham often spoke with deep affection for America, but his affection was tied to prayer, repentance, humility, and the gospel. He understood that a nation's strength is not ultimately found in wealth, military power, technology, or influence. He said the secret strength of a nation is found in the faith that abides in the hearts and homes of the country. Whether we quote that exactly or simply carry its spirit, the point is clear. If we want to love America well, we must begin not with arrogance, but with prayer, and prayer changes the posture of patriotism. It is hard to pray sincerely for your country and also worship it. Prayer bends the knee. Prayer confesses dependence. Prayer admits that righteousness does not come from our own strength. Prayer asks God to heal what is broken, expose what is false, protect what is vulnerable, and awaken what is spiritually asleep. So yes, thank God for America. Thank God for those who served. Thank God for freedoms many people have never known. Thank God for the chance to worship openly, educate children, gather with believers, speak truth, and serve others. But let gratitude lead you to worship God, not the nation. But gratitude alone is not enough to guide us. Gratitude must be shaped by the cross, because the cross tells us what love looks like, what power is for, and where our deepest allegiance belongs. Francis Chan has often reminded believers that life is about Jesus and that we are not here to tell our story, but his. That matters deeply in this conversation. If America becomes the main character of our faith, we have lost the plot. If Jesus becomes a mascot for our politics, we have misunderstood the cross. The gospel is not God bless my side. The gospel is that Jesus Christ died and rose again to redeem sinners from every tribe, tongue, people, and nation. Revelation 7 gives us a picture of the final kingdom, a multitude no one can number from every nation, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. That means our brothers and sisters in Christ are not defined first by an American passport, a political label, or a cultural tribe. They are defined by the blood of Jesus. My spiritual family includes believers from nations America has called allies, nations America has called enemies, and nations most Americans rarely think about it all. That does not erase love for one's homeland. It purifies it. It reminds me that love of country must never become contempt for other nations. It reminds me that patriotism must never turn into superiority. It reminds me that the Great Commission is bigger than national interest. Jesus did not tell us to make America great. He told us to make disciples of all nations. Matt Chandler has frequently emphasized that Christians live in the world but not of the world. That phrase is helpful here. We are not detached from civic life, but we are also not absorbed by it. We vote, serve, volunteer, teach, lead, advocate, and participate, but we do so as people whose hope is anchored somewhere higher than Washington, DC. We engage without being consumed. We care without being controlled. We speak truth without surrendering love. That kind of cross-shaped patriotism also helps us recognize what patriotism is not. It allows us to love our country without confusing our country with the kingdom of God. We also need to be clear about something. Loving America is not the same as Christian nationalism. Those words get used in different ways, but at its core, Christian nationalism often blurs the line between the kingdom of God and the kingdom of man. It can suggest that Christianity advances through political dominance, cultural control, or national identity. That is not the way of Jesus. John MacArthur, while urging Christians not to be indifferent to what happens in their nation, has warned against linking political power with the advancement of the kingdom of God. He pointed to Jesus' words in John 1836, My kingdom is not of this world. That does not mean Christians retreat from public life. It means we never confuse political success with gospel success. Welcome back to Flint to Grace. The Church's mission is not to baptize a nation into righteousness through force, fear, or power. The church's mission is to proclaim Christ, make disciples, love neighbors, defend the vulnerable, pursue justice, practice mercy, and bear witness to the kingdom that cannot be shaken. Hebrews 12 28 says, We are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken. That is good news because every earthly nation can be shaken. America has done great good. America has also carried deep sins. A mature Christian can say both without flinching. We can honor sacrifice and acknowledge injustice. We can celebrate liberty and confess hypocrisy. We can be thankful for founding ideals and honest about the ways those ideals were denied to many. Truthful love is not betrayal. Sometimes truthful love is the only kind of love strong enough to heal. So if Christian nationalism is not the answer, what is? What does faithful, humble, Christ-centered love of country actually look like in everyday life? So what does it look like to love America as a Christian? Let me offer several practices. First, pray for our nation and our leaders. First Timothy 2 tells us to pray for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead peaceful and quiet lives, godly and dignified in every way. Prayer is not passive. It is one of the most faithful acts of citizenship a Christian can offer. Second, honor those who serve without turning service into worship. Romans 13 teaches that governing authorities have a role in restraining evil and promoting order. We can thank God for public servants, military members, first responders, teachers, judges, medical workers, and ordinary citizens who contribute to the common good. Honor is biblical. Worship belongs to God alone. Third, tell the truth. Christians should not need propaganda because we have the truth. We do not have to exaggerate America's goodness to be grateful, and we do not have to exaggerate America's failures to be honest. We can be sober, humble, historically aware, and hopeful. Fourth, love your neighbors more than your ideology. Patriotism can become hollow if we love symbols, but ignore people. The nation is not only flags, songs, monuments, borders, and founding documents. The nation is also the widow down the street, the child in the classroom, the deployed service member's spouse, the immigrant learning a new language, the veteran carrying invisible wounds, the single parent working two jobs, and the neighbor who votes differently than you. Fifth, participate with humility. Vote if you are able. Serve if you are called. Speak up when conscience requires it. But do not let politics disciple you more than scripture does. Do not let cable news shape your emotions more than prayer does. Do not let social media train you in outrage more than Jesus trains you in love. Sixth, remember your final home. Hebrews eleven says the people of faith desired a better country, that is a heavenly one. That does not make earthly countries meaningless. It puts them in perspective. We can love America without needing America to be eternal. We can serve America without needing America to be ultimate. We can grieve America's sins without despairing because our hope was never in America's perfection. Those practices apply to every believer, but I want to pause for a moment and speak directly to those for whom love of country has been carried through uniforms, deployments, family separations, and a life of service. Welcome back to. Flint to Grace. For those connected to the military community, this conversation is not theoretical. I know that personally. I grew up with the rhythms of Air Force life through my father's service, and I later stepped into that world myself as an Air Force meteorologist. Weather may not always be the first thing people think about when they think of military service, but anyone who has served knows that mission decisions often depend on details others never see. The forecast matters, timing matters, readiness matters, quiet faithfulness matters, and behind every mission are families learning to live with uncertainty, separation, and sacrifice. Now, as a school principal serving military connected children overseas, I see another side of that service. I see students who have moved more times than some adults. I see children learning new schools, new friendships, new homes, and new routines because their parents answered the call. I see spouses caring households with courage. I see staff members creating stability for children whose lives can feel anything but stable. So when I say Christians should honor service and sacrifice, I mean it deeply. We should say thank you. We should remember we should support military families not only with words, but with presence, patience, meals, prayers, and practical care. At the same time, my Air Force background also taught me the importance of chain of command. You learn quickly that authority matters, orders matter, allegiance matters. But the Christian life reminds me that even the most honorable earthly authority is still beneath the authority of Christ. I can respect the chain of command and still know there is a king above every commander, president, general, and nation. That perspective does not make me less grateful for America. It makes my gratitude safer, humbler, and more faithful. But even here, our deepest comfort is not nationalism. It is Christ, the soldier, the spouse, the child, the veteran, the gold star family, the teacher welcoming a new student mid-year, the chaplain praying beside a hospital bed. All of them need more than patriotic language. They need the presence of the living God. They need the promise that Jesus sees sacrifice, carries grief, gives courage, and offers a kingdom where death does not get the final word. And that brings us back to the heart of the matter. After all the scripture, all the gratitude, all the warnings, and all the personal reflection. What do we finally say about loving America as followers of Jesus? So can Christians love America? Yes, but we must love America as Christians. That means our love must be grateful, truthful, humble, prayerful, neighbor centered, and subordinate to Christ. We do not love America by pretending she is perfect. We love America by seeking her welfare. We do not honor America by worshiping her. We honor America best when we worship God alone. When love of country is rightly ordered, it can become an act of gratitude. When it is disordered, it becomes an idol. When it is shaped by Scripture, it sends us into our communities as servants. When it is shaped by fear, it turns neighbors into enemies. When it is shaped by the cross, it teaches us to lay down our lives in love. When it is shaped by pride, it demands that others bow. May we be Christians who thank God for America, pray for America, serve America, tell the truth about America, and never confuse America with the kingdom of God. And may our neighbors see in us a better kind of patriotism, not loudest, not angriest, not proudest, but one marked by humility, courage, gratitude, repentance, service, and love. And for me personally, that means I can look back on my family's Air Force story with gratitude. I can thank God for the privilege of serving. I can honor my father's service. I can be proud of my son's service in security forces and my youngest son's service as an Air Force chaplain. I can love the military community I now serve as an educator, but I must always bring that love back to the feet of Jesus. The uniform matters, but it does not save. The flag matters, but it is not eternal. The nation matters, but it is not the kingdom. Jesus alone is Lord. So before we close, let's take all of that, the gratitude, the caution, the love, the service, and the hope, and bring it to God in prayer. We will do that when we return. Let's close in prayer. Father, thank you for the blessings we have received in this country. Thank you for freedoms, opportunities, communities, families, churches, schools, and the sacrifices of those who have served. Forgive us when we turn good gifts into idols. Forgive us when we confuse political power with spiritual faithfulness. Teach us to love our country rightly, not with blindness, arrogance, or fear, but with gratitude, truth, humility, and service. Help us seek the welfare of the place where you have planted us. I pray fervently for our nation's leaders, no matter their political affiliation. Give them wisdom, humility, courage, compassion, integrity, and a deep sense of responsibility for the people they serve. Help us pray for them faithfully, not only when we agree with them, but because your word calls us to intercede for those in authority. Help us love our neighbors, defend the vulnerable, honor what is good, and repent where repentance is needed. Above all, keep our eyes fixed on Jesus. Remind us that our citizenship is in heaven, our hope is in Christ, and our mission is to make disciples of all nations. In Jesus' name, amen. As we close this special July 4th episode of Flint to Grace, I want to invite you to carry this reflection beyond a holiday weekend. Loving America as a Christian is not something we practice only when flags are waving, fireworks are lighting up the sky, or patriotic songs are playing in the background. It is something we live out in the ordinary places God has planted us, in our homes, our churches, our schools, our neighborhoods, our workplaces, and our conversations. Maybe today's episode has stirred gratitude in you. If it has, let that gratitude become worship. Thank God for the blessings you have received. Thank him for the freedoms you enjoy. Thank him for those who served before you, those who serve now, and the families who carry the weight of that service quietly and faithfully. Maybe it has stirred conviction. If so, do not run from that. Ask the Lord where your love of country may need to be reordered. Ask him where fear, pride, anger, cynicism, or political loyalty may have become louder than the voice of Jesus. Ask him to make you the kind of citizen who can speak truth without cruelty, disagree without contempt, and serve without needing applause. And maybe this episode has stirred grief. Maybe you love this country but feel burdened by its division, its pain, its injustice, its confusion, or its spiritual drift. Bring that grief to God too. Christian hope is not denial. We do not have to pretend everything is fine in order to be faithful. We can grieve honestly because our hope is not fragile. Our hope is anchored in Christ. So this July 4th, celebrate with joy. Enjoy the food, the family, the music, the memories, and the fireworks. Tell the stories, remember the sacrifices, give thanks for the freedoms, but when the last spark fades from the sky, let your heart still be fixed on the greater light, the light of Christ, the one no nation can contain, no election can enthrone, and no grave could hold. If this episode encouraged you, I invite you to share it with someone who loves this country but also wants to love Jesus more. Share it with someone who serves, someone who leads, someone who teaches, someone who is wrestling with patriotism, or someone who simply needs a reminder that gratitude and humility can walk together. Thank you for listening to Flint to Grace. May we be people who love our country well because we love Christ first. May we be faithful in the place God has planted us, and may everything in us, from our patriotism to our prayers, be shaped by the grace of God and pointed toward the glory of Jesus. Until next time, keep walking from flint to grace.