One Nation: What the Pledge Reveals About Identity and Belonging

I spent years reciting words I didn't understand.

Every morning in elementary school, hand over heart, we pledged allegiance to the flag. I thought it was cool that I'd memorized it. Then one line started bothering me: "under God."

The secular argument seemed airtight—separation of church and state is the law. Which God? What about atheists? My non-religious household left me thinking I was one (I didn't know "agnostic" yet). I concluded: keep religion out of government. Don't want a cult running the country.

But lately, I'm not so sure.

The Problem of "We"

The question started elsewhere: in a country as diverse as the U.S., how do we even know we're on the same team?

Japanese Americans went through rhetorical whiplash—from "you are Japanese" (accusation during internment) to "we are Japanese American" (hyphen as compromise) to "we are Japanese American" (full embrace of both) to "we are Japanese American" (ethnicity trumps nationality). That's a lot of identity renegotiation in a few generations.

But watch what happens when you question the ethnic part. In an interview, actress Raven-Symoné (from Disney Channel's That's So Raven) told Oprah Winfrey she didn't want to be labeled—she was just "American," not African American. She felt a stronger calling to U.S. culture than to African roots. Oprah was insulted on behalf of "society"—as if Raven had forsaken something essential.

Then there's streamer Asmongold's take on why some Latino/Latinx/Latine Americans voted for Trump despite his deportation policies. People found it confusing—why would Latinos support someone targeting undocumented immigrants, many of whom are Latino? His answer, which he thought was obvious: because they're also American, with concerns about the impact on Americans. From a liberal viewpoint, that logic is nearly impossible to reach—choosing American interests looks like self-hatred or betraying minorities. But to Asmongold, it was straightforward national identity.

The counterargument pushes further: undocumented immigrants are American. Anyone can be. Open that door wide enough and you arrive at "why not just be citizens of Earth?" The human race as the ultimate tribe.

The UN's track record on unity-through-universalism suggests that's harder than it sounds.

Vivek Ramaswamy, a 2024 Republican presidential candidate, argued that strong national identity is necessary for unification. I think he's partly right—humans form tribes, and "citizen of Earth" doesn't feel tribal enough. (Maybe when the aliens invade.)

But is national identity enough?

What Does "Under God" Actually Do?

This brings me back to the Pledge: "one nation, under God, indivisible."

Let's put aside the geopolitical and economic explanations for now. I'm genuinely unsure what role God plays here—or could play. Is "under God" the unifier itself, or does it serve some other function? I see three possibilities, and I don't know which is right:

Possibility 1: God as Humility Check
Maybe "under God" isn't about creating unity but about preventing idolatry. It reminds us the nation isn't ultimate—there's a higher authority judging our laws and actions. This would make it a limiting principle. The question: does acknowledging something above the nation make us less tribal, or just differently tribal?

Possibility 2: The Tension Is the Point
Perhaps "American" tries to be too thin—just legal status and shared values—while "under God" is too thick, assuming theological agreement. Maybe we need both? A thin civic identity (for legal equality) and thick particular identities (for actual community), perpetually in creative tension. Japan's wa (group harmony) prioritizes the collective; the U.S. emphasizes individual rights. Can secular individualism create unity, or only respectful coexistence? Is coexistence enough?

Possibility 3: Unity Requires Shared Sacrifice
What if unity isn't about finding the right category (national, religious, ethnic), but about what people are willing to sacrifice for each other? The early church worked when people literally shared possessions across ethnic lines. National identity works when people die in wars together. "Under God" might point toward transcendent sacrifice rather than transcendent category.

I'm thinking about the early church—wildly multiethnic, scattered across the Roman Empire, unified by something other than ethnicity or citizenship. They called each other brother and sister. They shared resources across cultural lines. They didn't erase differences; they subordinated them to a higher identity.

Christianity's unity track record isn't spotless—just count the denominations and schisms. Is that God's failure or human sin breaking through? I don't know yet. But maybe the vision itself matters: an identity that transcends nation, race, tribe, and still honors those particularities without making them ultimate.

I might be wrong if "under God" is just another tribal marker dressed in theological language. But what if there's something about submitting to a God who claims all peoples that changes the nature of the tribe itself? Or what if it's not about the tribe at all, but about the mutual sacrifice that creates real belonging?

What I'm Trying

I don't have answers yet, just questions I'm living with:

1. Watching where identity claims break down. When someone says "I'm American" or "I'm Asian American" or "I'm Christian," I'm asking: what are they claiming? What are they excluding? What's ultimate for them—and does that ultimacy create or constrain unity?
2. Reading Acts and Galatians looking for mechanics, not just ideals. How did Paul's multiethnic churches actually function day-to-day? What did "neither Jew nor Greek" mean in practice? When unity broke down (and it did—see Galatians 2), what caused the fracture?
3. Testing the sacrifice hypothesis in my own life. Who have I sacrificed for across difference? Where have others sacrificed for me? Does shared sacrifice create thicker bonds than shared labels? Can you have real unity without cost?

A Prayer for Discernment

For Guidance (Book of Common Prayer, Prayer #77)
O God, by whom the meek are guided in judgment, and light rises up in darkness for the godly: Grant us, in all our doubts and uncertainties, the grace to ask what you would have us do, that the Spirit of wisdom may save us from all false choices; that in your light we may see light, and in your straight path we may not stumble; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Personal Prayer
God, if you're the answer to human division, show me how. If I'm wrong about needing you for unity, show me that too. I don't know if "under God" means humility, or tension, or sacrifice—or something else entirely. Help me see what holds people together across real difference. And help me be willing to pay the cost if unity requires it. Amen.