Reflections on America’s 250 year birthday

In a recent debate with someone close to me, as I was lamenting the consequences of greed-driven American imperialism, a sharp statement was thrown my way: “You really hate America, don’t you?” It made me pause. It forced me to sit down and unpack why an honest, well-documented assessment of an evil done by fellow Americans under the banner of our flag would be met with that kind of defensive reflex.

As a follower of Jesus, I have to start with a fundamental question of identity. I am a person who happens to have a U.S. Social Security number and passport, and I pay taxes to this country. But when I read Scripture, I realize I am not actually commanded to either love or hate America. My eternal identity in Christ is the primary reality that must drive everything else about my life—including my patriotism and the stewardship of my citizenship.

To put it simply: I am not an American who happens to be a Christian. I am a Christian who happens to be an American.

When your national identity becomes your primary identity, any critique of your nation feels like an existential threat. This is the root of Christian nationalism and American exceptionalism. It elevates a temporary earthly empire to a place of divine status.

But the Gospel of Jesus Christ utterly deconstructs this. Think about the ministry of Jesus. He arrived in a deeply polarized political climate under the thumb of the Roman Empire. Many wanted Him to be a nationalistic liberator. Yet, when standing before Pilate, Jesus made a radical declaration:

“My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight…” (John 18:36)

Jesus was showing us that His Kingdom operates on an entirely different plane. If we confuse the Kingdom of God with the American project, we fall into a profound theological error.

While I am not commanded by the God I serve to “love my country” (or any country for that matter), I am explicitly commanded to love my American neighbors—all of them—and those of every other country. I am called to speak truth to power systems that hurt or oppress my neighbors, near and far. I am called to hate evil in all the forms it manifests, regardless of what flag flies above it. As the prophet Amos wrote: “Hate evil, love good, and establish justice in the gate” (Amos 5:15).

Let me be clear: there are so many good things I love about the United States. This is the particular corner of God’s world where my wife and I have chosen to live and raise our 11 kids. I feel called here. I am profoundly grateful for “here”—for my city and my neighborhood. I love the fellow human beings on this soil whom I’ve been entrusted by God to faithfully love as myself, serve for the common good, and grow with in healthy, interdependent relationship.

I love that, as of right now, I can freely write a post like this, sharing my convictions and faith without fear that my government will lock me up. I praise God for that freedom. It is a privilege and a gift that needs to be celebrated, defended, and advocated for.

But here is the real reason I know for a fact I do not “hate America”:

There is a massive difference between a surgeon’s scalpel and a weapon. One cuts to heal, repair, and restore; the other cuts simply to inflict harm and destroy. There is a vast chasm between correction and a critical spirit.

Think about the things you love most in life—your kids, your marriage, a craft you’ve dedicated years to mastering. When you see a flaw, a drift, or a broken piece in those things, you don’t ignore it. You lean in. You correct, you adjust, and you try to perfect it because it holds immense value to you. If your child is wandering toward a busy street, screaming for them to stop isn’t hatred—it’s fierce, protective love.

But a critical, hateful spirit does the opposite. It doesn’t want restoration; it wants demolition. It doesn’t look at a problem with tears in its eyes; it looks with a smirk, seeking to condemn and tear down.

Therefore, the most truly patriotic thing a person can do is to love their fellow citizens enough to seek to know and tell the truth about the evils of the empires man develops. When believers speak out against broken systems, injustices, or departures from the way of Jesus right here in America, it isn’t hatred. It’s truth-telling born out of deep love. We point out the cracks in the foundation not because we want the house to collapse, but because we want it to stand strong for everyone living inside it.

We want to see this nation reach its highest potential for the sake of every single image-bearer of God on our shores—across every color, culture, and class. True love doesn’t demand blind loyalty; it demands honest relationship.

As Americans, we live in a constitutional republic where the legal framework of our governing authority is “We the People.” The ultimate authority in our system is not a king or a president, but a constitution that guarantees the right to speak, assemble, and petition the government for a redress of grievances. Therefore, in the American context, to participate in the peaceful correction of our systems is not an act of rebellion against God ordained authorities, but very much in line with Romans 13 logic as an active fulfillment of our civic responsibility within the system God has placed us in. We love being citizens of this country so we exercise our civic duty to tell the truth about the brokenness and evils committed under these stars and stripes so we can make our country a better place for ALL people dwelling here.

There is a follow-up question that almost inevitably arises whenever you critique your own homeland: “Why do you spend so much time calling out America’s evils while staying silent on the atrocities happening in other countries? You talk more about America’s flaws than the rest of the world combined.”

The answer to that is devastatingly simple, and it comes straight from the mouth of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount:

“Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.” (Matthew 7:3–5)

As a Christian who happens to be an American, my primary moral responsibility is not to police the geopolitical neighborhood; it is to repent of the debris in my own yard.

Yes, we absolutely acknowledge the horrific evils, human rights abuses, and oppressions happening across the globe. We do not turn a blind eye to international injustice. But the Gospel strictly forbids us from using the sins of other nations to construct a platform of self-righteousness for our own. Pointing at another country’s tyranny to minimize our own systemic greed or historical injustices is a classic deflection strategy. It is Pharisaical. It says, “Thank God I am not like those other nations” (Luke 18:11), rather than crying out, “God, be merciful to us, a people of unclean lips.”

This brings us to the core distinction between two kinds of love for a country: Patriotic Pride versus Patriotic Humility.

Patriotic pride is fragile. It measures America’s greatness horizontally. It looks at the chaos, poverty, or authoritarianism in other parts of the world, puffs its chest out, and says, “See? We are better than them.” It uses comparison as a shield against accountability. But Scripture warns us about this specific posture: “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall” (Proverbs 16:18).

Patriotic humility, however, measures greatness vertically. It doesn’t compare America to other fallen earthly empires. Instead, it compares our nation to the perfect standard of God’s Kingdom of light, equity, and shalom—and in doing so, it honestly sees our remaining darkness and chaos.

When you look vertically, you stop bragging. You stop smirking at the failure of other nations and you fall to your knees in lament, longing for national repentance and healing.

The truly patriotic thing to do—if you genuinely want to see your country be great for the sake of all its inhabitants—is not to shout down its critics, but to join the surgeons who are trying to repair its wounds. Pride leads a nation to decay under the weight of its own unconfessed idols. Humility is the only path that leads to systemic healing, restoration, and true, enduring greatness.

To get to a place of deep, systemic healing, we have to be willing to look in the mirror. Honest reflection requires hard conversations that the world often mistakes for negativity. But as Kingdom people, we must practice:

• Confession and Lament: Mourning where we’ve fallen short.
• Repentance: A collective turning away from the things that fracture us and damage our communities.
• Exposing Our Idols: Facing our immorality, greed, injustices, and abuses of power head-on, alongside the consequences experienced because of these false gods our hearts worship and live for.

So many of our systems in this country have an incredible potential for human flourishing, yet they have too often been weaponized for human oppression. Calling that out isn’t anti-American; it is pro-neighbor. The hateful thing to do is to say nothing, to try to shut down systems of accountability while neglecting the check-up. The pride and fear of discovering cracks in the foundation will either prevent the necessary repairs from being made, or show where a new and better foundation is needed.

The writer of Hebrews reminds us of the ancient heroes of faith, stating that they “acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth” and were “seeking a homeland… a better country, that is, a heavenly one” (Hebrews 11:13, 16). The text famously says of them that they were people “of whom the world was not worthy” because they were looking forward to the city that has foundations, “whose designer and builder is God” (Hebrews 11:10).

According to 2 Corinthians 5, we are now ambassadors of reconciliation. An ambassador does not primarily adopt the culture, values, or defensive pride of the foreign country they are stationed in; they represent the interests, the character, and the peace of the Home Country. We are ambassadors of the realities of the New Creation. We seek first the Kingdom of God and long to see His love and justice actively piercing the darkness of this world, no matter what earthly country we find ourselves citizens of.

This completely confronts American exceptionalism. Our ultimate hope is not unified under a human banner, but in the cosmic Gospel that unites every nation, tribe, tongue, and culture in the throne room of the Lamb who bled out for us all to bring us into His eternal Kingdom (Revelation 7:9).

If there is a gracious God and we believe His grace never changes, then His grace will ever be changing us to be more gracious toward other humans. True faith in a gracious and loving God doesn’t lead to the oppression of a neighbor’s different faith, but rather makes space for an authentic relationship that seeks to learn and grow with our neighbors of all cultures and creeds. Grace begets grace. Truth begets truth. Love begets love.

This is the work of Christ. On the cross, Jesus absorbed the ultimate weight of our structural and individual evils. He didn’t look at our broken world with a smirk of condemnation, but with tears and blood, enduring the ultimate “cutting” so that we could be put back together.

We lean into the mess of our nation because we believe in the promise of healing and the Great Healer, Jesus, who loves to see “streets restored for dwelling” (Isaiah 58:12) through His grace to all people. We are longing to see a peace-loving, beloved community emerge—where true liberty and justice aren’t just catchphrases, but a lived reality for all image-bearers.

***My friend Brian Drinkwine just wrote a great book called “Kingdom Over Empire”. Check it out here.
***I also just released an EP under my artist name Ambrose Iverson called “Stranger” Check it out here.

*** The graphic used is a play off of Christina’s World by Andrew Wyeth 1948… The story of this painting is here. Christina is struggling across the landscape toward her farmhouse. My friend Al shared an Ai remake with the lawn and Capital as the destination… Figured it fit with the topic today…