A Year of Last days: Reflections in an Anabaptist Direction Series
The last day of February 2010 ... in two days it will be Fly the Flag Day in South Africa to mark 100 days to the FIFA World Cup. Radio and TV advertising is now almost intoxicating in its rallying call for all South Africans to raise the flag in support of the “national effort” for this year’s global spectacle. We are expected to be awed into conformed admiration by the statistics: 64 matches, 32 teams, a hoped for 450 000 visitors to South Africa, 64 billion television viewers and 48 million Bafana Bafana supporters. Like Caesar’s games in antiquity the focus of the whole world has to be summoned to the imminent achievements of light footed gladiators from around the globe, preparing to do battle here from 11 June 2010. Part of this compelling invitation to lose ourselves in the euphoria of such a spectacle is amore sinister expectation, that South Africa must flaunt itself to the world by revealing hi-tech stadia that would make a Caesar envious, and then showcase, market and hard sell the South African “national treasures” of culture and natural heritage. Such exercises in vaunting stereotyped national identities reduce human, cultural and national identity, even just momentarily, to a result in the winner-takes-all climax of the contest. And the losers are forgotten. While South Africa doesn’t stand a chance of being crowned with FIFA’s postmodern incarnation of Ceasar’s laurels, South African identity is already being further reduced in 2010 as we become equated with the “kind of” World Cup that we will “deliver”.
To be a dissenting voice in the growing clamour of deafening vuvuzelas (horns that people blow into), to be even softly heard to say (as many South Africans did with banners, bumper stickers and public demonstrations on many a Republic Day of the Apartheid era) that the S.A. World Cup is no cause to celebrate! may sound ridiculous. And then, to unpack the host of many real social, environmental and economic costs that are being paid, and will continue to be paid by South Africans for the World Cup’s many hidden price tags, may sound unpatriotic. Perhaps I may be heard another day.
But the South African flag is what I reflect on here. Like many dissenting Jews and Christians at many moments throughout history, I find myself unable to swear an oath of allegiance to my country or to raise or salute my country’s flag, even if it is the fifth most recognisable flag in the world (so says the Fly the Flag page of the World Cup Website), though I have wrestled with feelings of momentary pride in the flag, because of its story and my part in the story. But yes, I want to be part of a tradition through the length and breadth of Scripture and church history, that just doesn’t do flag saluting, oath swearing or national anthem singing. I like what I have seen that those who participate in this Anabaptist tradition don’t swear an oath, salute a flag, or sing an anthem, with joy, without shame and without any sense of being second class citizens in the countries where they live and work.
The Anabaptist tradition stands in the spirit of the prophet Samuel who had to warn Israel about the real social, economic and environmental oppression that unjust governments always cause. It is a tradition that follows the example of Daniel who stood when everyone else fell on their faces, because he saw that spiritual powers in opposition to God lay behind the imperial razzmatazz of Nebuchadnezzar’s fanfare. This tradition puts the enemy loving heart of Jesus’ Good News above any imposed loyalties of national citizenship. It takes more seriously than oaths of allegiance what the New Testament says about Christians’ true baptismal identity. Christians are seen firstly as a “new creation”, “in Christ”, and therefore our national, gendered, familial, linguistic and cultural selves have “gone” so that a new self can “come” through the transforming power of Jesus Christ. In Anabaptist spirituality there is a commitment daily to “lose” the self-grounded aspects of life and identity, in order that the true life of Jesus might be “found”. Anabaptists see citizenship first as citizenship in Christ’s kingdom, to be lived by the laws of this, a Christian’s true country, in submission to our true ruler, Jesus the Prince of Peace. Peter and John in Acts put this tradition into practice as Temple policemen were sent to detain them for breaking by-laws in the Temple precinct. They asked these representatives of their city fathers whether Christians should obey human beings rather than obeying God and respectfully went on preaching the Gospel in the Temple area.
This ancient free and joyful tradition of non-participation in nationalistic jingoism has been a hallmark of Anabaptist church history for nearly 500 years. And discovering Anabaptists whom I could get to know or begin to read showed me that the Bible itself reveals the way of life of this flagless, nationless patriotism to Christ and his kingdom, with its respectful non-compliance to unjust rulers, or oppressive institutions. Like the Daniels, Ezekiels and Peters of old, Anabaptists are often met with brutal opposition by unjust rulers. Anabaptists’ singular patriotism to Christ through joyful disobedience to unjust laws and rulers is not a separatist, elitist movement, disengaging from national life, but a form of true patriotism for the common good of all whom Jesus longs to save. As a result Anabaptists invariably get more involved in working towards the social transformation of unjust societies.
Discovering this strong Bible tradition of a supranational identity in God and our Lord Jesus Christ, expressed in a peace-building way of life, helped me to respond to the indoctrination and forced compliance (conscription) that I was subjected to as a boy growing up in South Africa. I discovered that true patriotism is to respectfully serve Jesus even if that means disobeying national laws that are contrary to Jesus’ Kingdom and reign. Then, I realised that refusing to oath, or salute the flag, or to sing the national anthem (though sometimes I still wrestle with singing our’s because it is a prayer) are symbolic ways in which Anabaptist Christians practise their deeper commitment, to “lose” and leave behind a self-grounded national identity in order to “find” in Jesus fullness of life and true identity with its commitment to his Kingdom of justice and peace.
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