In my last post, I had said that “I am not opposed to patriotism, but I take issue with a patriotism that comes at the expense of other nations. (You can be thankful to be an American without saying it’s better than being a Canadian or German.) More to the point, I take issue with a patriotism that’s propped up by half-truths and selective evidence.”

What kind of patriotism do I support, then? Can patriotism be sustained without making comparisons and without ignoring shameful parts of a nation’s past or present? Yes, I think so.

When I think about my ideal form of patriotism, my mind goes to a scene from the Hungarian film A Tanú (The Witness, 1969, directed by Péter Bacsó), a satirical look at life in Hungary under communism. In one part of the film, the protagonist József Pelikán is tasked to oversee a government initiative to grow oranges. Hungary’s climate is not conducive to cultivating citrus trees, yet the government wants to try it anyway to promote national pride.

Pelikán’s team of scientists succeeds in growing a single, not-very-orange-looking orange, and the government’s top brass attend a celebration where the first-ever Hungarian orange is to be presented. Just before he is to present the literal fruit of his labor, however, Pelikán discovers that his son has eaten it. To save himself from embarrassment, Pelikán presents a lemon to the top official instead. The official bites into the lemon and is horrified by its tartness: “What is this?” Pelikán replies, deadpan: “It’s an orange. … The new Hungarian orange. It’s a little yellower, a little more sour, but it’s ours.”

I think a healthy love of country—or for that matter, a healthy love of one’s hometown or family, one’s church or denomination, one’s alma mater or favorite sports team—finds its justification in just those three little words: “but it’s ours.” That is to say, “It may not be this, it may not be that, but it’s the one we have, and so we will love it.” I don’t think a healthy love of country can ground itself in any other claim. The patriot loves his nation (or his family or denomination or team) above all others, not because it is better than anyone else’s, and certainly not because it has no serious flaws, but simply because in his mind it is preceded by that possessive pronoun, his. With that kind of love, the patriot can be happy for others who also love their own nations simply because they are theirs, with no compulsion to argue with them. With that kind of love, the patriot can be honest and critical about his nation’s history and leadership and people, without whitewashing or excusing or needing to say, “At least we’re not as bad as that other country!”

For the Christian, a but-it’s-ours approach to patriotism is consistent with recognizing that God has placed each of us in a particular place and time (Acts 17:26) and put each of us there for a reason (Esther 4:14, Jeremiah 29:7). The Christian citizen should say, “God could have put me somewhere else, made me a citizen of a different nation; but I’m here, so I’ll seek to be a good steward of the citizenship I have.” For the Christian, a but-it’s-ours approach to patriotism can also be a reflection of God’s steadfast, gracious love for His own nation, the church (1 Peter 2:9-10). God loves the church, not for any merit of its own, but because it is His.