Fr. Tony’s Mid-week Message
A Heavenly City
November 9, 2016
“For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens”(2 Cor 5:1).
In the year 410 C.E., nomadic peoples known as the Visigoths invaded and sacked Rome. The Empire had been Christian for about 100
years, and had moved the seat of its government east. But Rome remained the center of the Western
Church and culture. When the Visigoths attacked,
they spared those who had taken refuge in the Vatican out of respect for the
Christian tradition (the Visigoth leader himself was an Aryan Christian). Conservative elements in the city blamed
Christianity for the destruction of the city: they saw it as punishment from
the pagan gods Rome had rejected in becoming Christian. A North African Bishop, Augustine of Hippo,
replied to these accusations with one of the classics of Christian theology,
“The City of God.”
In it, he argues that the loss of confidence and
hope caused by Rome’s destruction came from misplaced loyalties and hope. He contrasts
the earthly city, built by human hands for human ends, with a heavenly city,
built by the hands of God alone. People
who hoped for peace, culture, and civilization from Rome, he said, were on a
fool’s errand. Even though its
contributions and achievements were great, they could not last. Based in human striving for one’s own good,
even at the expense of others, the earthly city is doomed to fail, sooner or
later to fall into corruption and turmoil.
Those who seek true peace and civilization can only succeed by turning
their hopes to the city built by God, by motives based on love and service and
not self-seeking.
In part, he writes,
“The two cities have been formed by two loves: the earthly by the love of self, even to disregarding God; the heavenly by the love of God, even to the disregarding self. The former, in a word, glories in itself, the latter in the Lord. The one seeks glory from human beings; but the greatest glory of the other is God, the witness of conscience. The one lifts up its head in its own glory; the other says to its God, ‘You are my glory; you lift up my head.’ In the one, the princes and the nations it subdues are ruled by the love of ruling; in the other, the princes and the subjects serve one another in love, the latter obeying, while the former take thought for all. The one delights in its own strength, represented in the persons of its rulers; the other says to its God, ‘I will love you, O Lord, my strength.’ And therefore wise people of the one city, living according to human values, have sought for [their own] profit [and worshiped creatures]… But in the other city there is no human wisdom, but only godliness, offering due worship to the true God, and looking for its reward in the society of the saints, of holy angels and holy human beings.” (Book XIV, Chapter 28)“The earthly city will not last forever, … [and] is often divided against itself by litigations, wars, quarrels, and such victories as are either life-destroying or short-lived. For each part of it that arms against another part of it seeks victory … despite its bondage to vice. When it conquers, it puffs up with pride, and is victorious only through dealing in death… [I]t desires earthly peace only for the sake of enjoying earthly goods, and it makes war in order to attain to this peace…” (Book XV, chapter 4)
I have
heard many parishioners and colleagues express great sorrow, fear, and
frustration at the results of yesterday’s federal election. On the other hand,
I have heard expressions of exhilaration, thanks, and hope from some family
members and friends from high school.
Some have expressed a troubling but
wholly understandable feeling. Marginalized people, particularly any who
have suffered from bullying, racism, misogynistic harassment or worse, or anti-LGBTQ abuse,
have told me that the election results opened old wounds for them, and have
made them experience over again the pain and terror of past episodes of
abuse. On the other side, I had one
parishioner express pain at having been labeled as “deplorable” simply for
voting for what he considered to be the lesser of two evils. If any of you feel this way, and need someone
to talk to, to help you process it, know that I am here and am glad to listen.
I think
it is important to remember what St. Augustine taught when he saw
the destruction of Rome: it is a mistake
to identify wholly our human hopes and plans with God’s, or to think that what
we want is by definition what God wants.
Two
weeks ago in my homily, I quoted Aleksandr
Solzhenitsyn in the Gulag Archipelago:
the line between good and evil is not between one group of people and
another. It is not between one party and
another; one nation or another; one economic class and another (or even the
“one percent” and the “99 percent”); or one religion or another. The line between good and evil is very sharp,
but very fine. It does not run between
groups of people. Rather, it runs down
the center of each and every human heart.
This contentious and vicious
electoral season is not unique in American history: in some ways the “revolt
of the commons” and identity-politics appeals to class self-interest, and its
vituperative personal attacks, all echo the dynamics of the election of Andrew
Jackson in 1829. As most of you know,
Jackson left at best a mixed legacy. His
attempted genocide against native Americans and his support of slavery cast a long shadow that is with us
to this day.
Sometimes it is not easy to see the big picture.
There is a traditional Chinese story
that tells of accepting the way things are, the Tao: A farmer had only one horse. One day the horse ran away. The neighbors
came to commiserate over what they saw as his terrible loss. The farmer said, “What
makes you think it is so terrible?”
Later, the horse came home--this time bringing with her two beautiful
wild horses. The neighbors became excited at the farmer's good fortune. Such
lovely strong horses! The farmer said, “What makes you think this is good
fortune?” The farmer's son was thrown
from one of the wild horses and broke his leg. All the neighbors were very
distressed. Such bad luck! The farmer said, “What makes you think it is bad?” A war came, and every able-bodied man was
conscripted and sent into battle. Only the farmer's son, because he had a
broken leg, remained. The neighbors congratulated the farmer. “What makes you
think this is good?” said the farmer.
Let us take this occasion to work,
with renewed vigor, for the City of God.
Let us live into our baptismal covenant.
Let us serve each other with love.
Let us listen to each other, and be vigilant in helping each other—whether those who control the new government or those who find themselves in
the opposition—follow the better angels of our nature rather than its baser
demons. Let us be thankful for a system
of government with checks and balances that protect the minority and help the
majority find expression of its will.
And let us work through the processes and structures of this earthly
city to help get out of the way of God as he builds the heavenly one.
Grace and peace,
Fr. Tony+
Amen.
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