As debates rage over Britain’s Christian heritage, Tim Farron warns that when patriotism becomes an idol, Christians risk replacing God with a broken sense of identity that damages both themselves and others

What is your vision of your nation?
JRR Tolkien believed that England was shaped by its past. Seeking to understand more about himself and his country, he looked to legends of long ago, only to be bitterly disappointed. In one letter to a close friend, he wrote: “I was from early days grieved by the poverty of my own beloved country: it had no stories of its own.”
Tolkien’s frustrated quest inspired him to create the metaphorical England that we find in The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. In looking to the past for an identity, the world of Bilbo and Frodo Baggins was created, one that revolved around the mythical restoration of Christendom.
How we think about our nation - and our place within it - really matters. As commentators link nationalism, immigration and the Christian faith together, we need to carefully, and prayerfully, consider our response so that we don’t get swept along by one tide, or another.
Looking through the right lens
September’s Unite the Kingdom rally saw protestors march through London carrying wooden crosses and placards featuring Bible verses. This has stirred up debate around how Britain’s values relate to its Christian heritage.
We must be careful to examine our personal politics through a biblical lens, rather than taking our politics to the Bible and seeking scriptural endorsement. Otherwise, it becomes easy to highlight our opponents’ deficiencies whilst rationalising - or minimising - the injustices of our own side.
Can we really claim to love our country if that love inspires fear and division?
We can learn a tragic lesson from America that the appropriation of Christianity by one side of a partisan divide makes the other side far less likely to listen to the good news of the gospel.
Supporting the Church?
The BBC recently ran an online article about supporters of far-right agitator, Tommy Robinson, turning up at church. One man in his mid-30s told journalist that he didn’t necessarily believe in God but has started going to church because he feels “like Christianity could be replaced” in the UK and “the church needs support”.
What should we make of someone like this? Well, Jesus turned no one away, and neither should we. But nor did Jesus endorse anyone’s sin (John 3). And he didn’t conform to the expectations of either the nationalist Zealots, who wanted him to be a political and military leader, or the Pharisees, who wanted him to tone it down a bit.
It is dangerous to think that Jesus will affirm our political convictions – whatever those might be. All human ideologies are passing and will one day be left in rubble. Only God’s word is eternal and unchanging – fixed and established forever (see Psalm 119).
If we don’t grasp this, we risk being sidetracked into worshipping culture, rather than the one true and living God. Human beings are hard-wired to worship something. If it isn’t God, we fill the void with things of our own creation. Looking for a historic golden age - or perhaps an ancient Tolkien legend - to tell us who we are will only lead to confusion and disappointment.
Loving our country
Tolkien’s friend and contemporary, CS Lewis, recognised that affection for our nation can lead to a “particular attitude to our country’s past” that has “not quite such good credentials as the sheer love of home.” He was alluding to a darker form of nationalist sentiment. Can we really claim to love our country if that love inspires fear and division?
In the words of the New York Times journalist David French, we can love our country, but we need to do it with our eyes wide open.
Britain is a special place. However, like everywhere on earth since the Fall, it is not perfect. And its brokenness should direct us back to a biblical vision of a shared flourishing. Our ultimate identity is found in Christ, not our nationality. Living this out starts with loving our neighbour and seeking the welfare of the city. How different might our families, streets and offices look if we refocused on these two things?
It is dangerous to think that Jesus will affirm our political convictions – whatever those might be
Theologian John Piper describes our earthly (national) citizenship as being like a pair of old, familiar, “cultural slippers” that are just too comfortable to throw away. Do we love that comfort too much? At what point does exalting our cultural patriotism start to look like idolatry, and begin to hurt others?
In the end, Tolkien shows us that chasing a golden age – real or imagined – won’t tell us who we are. His own hunt for England’s lost legends led him to create Middle Earth, but even those epic stories point beyond nationality to a deeper hope. And that’s our challenge today.
As Britain debates its identity, heritage and faith, Christians can’t afford to cling too tightly to those comforting “cultural slippers”. Instead, we are called to seek the good of our communities and remember that our true citizenship is in Christ.
















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