Tag Archives: Rome

A brief history of civilisation

As we near the end of the City of God something of its epic ambition is really starting to hit me. It is a phenomenal book, charting history, philosophy, Greek gods, the rise and fall of Rome, the repeated conquering of the known world.

As we near the end (Book 18 of 22), you expect the pace to slacken off, easing into the final straight. Instead the 80 pages of Book 18 are encyclopaedically expansive. We are treated to a view from Augustine, probably writing in 426AD, of the entire history of human society since the founding of cities to his present day. The reigns of rulers and kings are recorded from Augustine’s extensive records and compared with the equivalent sequence of events in the history of Israel.

Rather than recount all that here, I want to focus on two key themes that emerge and have striking relevance for today. Firstly, our intrinsic desire to deify ourselves, and secondly the purposeful intermingling of the heavenly and earthly cities. These two themes shed light on the difference between the two cities.

In charting the origins of many of the so called Greek Gods Augustine shows how people elevate others who achieve some spectacular feat, incredible military victory of undertake some form of quest. He notes that “ceremonies in honour of false gods were established by the king of Greece” during the time of Joshua.

The recurring theme is that people want to be more than human. Whether it is an origin story like Romulus & Remus being raised by a she-wolf, or a mythical tale of “Gorgon with serpent locks and turned to stone those who looked upon her” there is the repeated desire to ascend from this mortal body and live forever among the gods. Often on pain of death societies would reinforce the divine nature of these ascended super-humans as they wrote plays and invented ceremonies to celebrate and replay the legends to rapt audiences.

It got me thinking how we still have this desire to ascend. It is perhaps expressed differently today but the impulse is still strong. Just today there was a football match where a successful player was retiring and the eulogies had religious undertones – how this legend would never be forgotten by the fans, effectively living forever, immortal in their collective consciousness.

Similarly hosts of actors are effectively immortalised through the silver screen by their work to live on beyond their years as downloadable content for fans not yet born. We cannot escape the human attraction of becoming like God, even after all these centuries since that false promise was made in the Garden of Eden. Then, as now, it is an empty aim, disappearing as quickly as grasping the morning mist. We just can’t lift ourselves up to become more like God.

By contrast the City of God is all about a people who are not being lifted up to possess unnatural abilities, but are being pressed down to experience pain and suffering as they go about their very human pilgrimage to heaven. This is our second theme. The intermingling of the two cities leads to the church suffering from outward attack:

In this wicked world, and in these evil times, the Church through her present humiliation is preparing for future exaltation. She is being trained by the stings of fear, the tortures of sorrow, the distress of hardship, and the dangers of temptation; and she rejoices only in expectation, when her joy is wholesome.

XIII.49

And inward division from false teachers:

There are those in the Church of Christ who have a taste for some unhealthy and perverse notion, and who if reproved – in the hope that they may acquire a taste for what is wholesome and right – obstinately resist and refuse…they become heretics and, when they part company with the Church, they are classed among the enemies who provide discipline for her.

XIII.51

This is profound teaching, and as someone who grieves for the state of the visible church in the west, I am greatly encouraged to read:

The dearer this name (Christian) is to those who want to live a devout life in Christ, the more they grieve that evildoers within the Church make that name less beloved than the hearts of the devout long for it to be.

XIII.51

It is ok to grieve for the state of the church – Augustine sees this as part of our persecution in this world – and have our hearts broken by the sinfulness within the church. Reading this book, I realise there would probably be something wrong with us if we didn’t care about the purity and health of the church. The key is to balance this with the the comfort of God and to draw deeply from the wells of salvation so that we can say with the psalmist “you’re consolations have gladdened my soul” Psalm 94.19. This will ensure our sufferings are redeemed for our good.

The right and wrong cause of conflict

Looking back over the last few weeks we have touched on some big themes – some of which we like to talk about, others we try to avoid. I’ll let you decide which is which!

I was struck when reading Book 15 of the City of God this week that there are really insightful lessons for us on a key topic that perhaps we don’t like talking about but is an inevitable part of being human – conflict.

In this section Augustine traces the early days of the earthly and heavenly cities, right back to their founding fathers Cain and Seth. He sees the conflict between Cain and Abel as a picture or symbol of the conflict that will always exist between the two cities.

As we trace Cain’s descendants they are the first to establish a physical city on earth. He compares this to how Rome was founded by two brothers, one of whom killed the other. Augustine contrasts the evil jealousy of both sets of brothers with the goodness experienced in the heavenly city:

Cain was the diabolical envy that the wicked feel for the good simply because they are good, while they themselves are evil. A man’s possession of goodness is in no way diminished by the arrival, or the continuance, of a sharer in it; indeed, goodness is a possession enjoyed more widely by the united affection of partners in that possession in proportion to the harmony that exists among them.

XV.5

He goes on to explain that the members of the earthly city “fight among themselves; and likewise the wicked fight against the good and the good against the wicked. But the good, if they have reached perfect goodness, cannot fight against themselves”.

Thus we see that there will always be conflict between the citizens of the two cities as well as conflict within the earthly city as it fights itself. Moreover, we know that no citizen of the heavenly city has reached perfection so “there may be fighting among them inasmuch as any good man may fight against another as a result of that part of him which makes him also fight against himself”. He goes on to say

Spiritual desire can fight against the carnal desire of another person, or carnal desire against another’s spiritual desire, just as the good and wicked fight against one another. Or even the carnal desires of two good men may fight.

XV.5

There is much more in Book 15 worth exploring, including a fascinating explanation of the long length of life before the flood, incest and giants. But that is for another day! The jewel that I would hold up before us is this brief dive into the types of conflict, summarised as:

  • Earthly city infighting
  • Earthly and heavenly city fighting each other
  • Individuals within heavenly city fight with themselves against their own sinful nature
  • Spiritual desire of one person fights against carnal desire of another (within the heavenly city)
  • Carnal desires of two good men fight against each other

While the first and the last in the list are ultimately ungodly conflict, the other three causes could have a godly purpose and motivation. Indeed, there can be no progress towards perfection without conflict – either in the individual or the church. There are remnants of the sinful (carnal) nature in all of us, even the most godly.

What this tells me is that in vain do we seek a life free of conflict, whatever city we belong to and whatever our need for peace and calm. We should expect conflict, welcome it (to some extent), and learn from it in order to grow in godliness and spiritual maturity.

Choosing a life void of conflict, with comfort or any other object as our goal, is choosing a life of spiritual stagnation. The key question I leave this section of the book with is this…will I live determined to be driven and controlled only and ever by my spiritual desires throughout any and all conflict I experience? Whilst I naturally avoid conflict, if when it comes, I can keep this as my spiritual north, then the conflict will be redeeming and healing whenever it arrives and wherever it leads.

“Therefore judge nothing before the appointed time; wait until the Lord comes. He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and will expose the motives of the heart. At that time each will receive their praise from God.”
‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭4:5‬ ‭NIV‬‬

A Roman Empire State of Mind

Are you proud of your home city? What about your capital city or country? As someone who was born in Bradford and lived all my life in the UK, its hard to imagine what true patriotism feels like. The closest I get is my feelings for my homeland of Yorkshire, (but unfortunately, rumours of a referendum on independence are completely unfounded!). So it’s hard for me not to be cynical when you see others being effusive about their home city. I love the uplifting sentiments and soaring chorus line of Alicia Keys’ Empire State of Mind – a song about her beloved New York. But I can’t help feeling this is the exception in the cynical and apathetic world we live in.

So I ask myself:

  • What would it be like to be so passionate about your national identify that you were as devoted to it as much as we are our football clubs or celebrities?
  • What if you loved your home city so much it was the dominant element in your identity?
  • What if the values that had shaped the formation of your nation also united the nation’s people?
  • What if those same values had driven the conquest of all other nations and had brought great wealth and glory to your nation?

Well, then you would have a tiny inkling of what it was like to be a Roman citizen.

For those of us in the West I think it is almost impossible to imagine what it is like to admire and even idolise your capital city and nation. We are so full of cynicism that its hard to imagine people ever being so naive. But this was the wonder and beauty of Rome – that although it had its fair share of problems, it was loved, really loved, by its people. More than a logistical head of an empire – Rome was a dream.

But then what would happen if that dream was shattered? How strong would be the emotional outpouring when it was finally crushed and the city was sacked? Well this is exactly what happened in 410AD. As the Romans were looking around for explanations for this disaster, some pointed the finger of blame at the Christians. It was in response to this criticism that Augustine wrote the City of God and in Book 1 he attacks these criticisms head on. 

Augustine helpfully summarises the focus of Book 1 at the start of Book 2 “the first duty that presented itself was to reply to those who hold the Christian religion responsible for the wars with which the whole world is tormented, and in particular the recent sack of Rome by the Barbarians.” He goes on to say that his opponents ascribe the defeat to the Christian’s prohibition of “the offering of abominable sacrifices to demons”. 

He begins his defence by looking at the remarkable restraint that the Barbarians demonstrated in sparing many of those who took refuge in the tombs of the Christian martyrs. He seeks to highlight the ungratefulness of those that were saved from death by their momentary association with the protection offered by the name of Christ, who moments later were vocal opponents of the very faith that had rescued them. This all happened while many Christians were tortured and killed. In response to these injustices, he asks the questions: “why did these divine blessings extend also to the godless and the ungrateful? And why did the hardships inflicted by the enemy fall alike on the godless and godly?”

Thus, the start of Book 1 seeks to understand the cause and effect relationship between religious worship and temporal blessings. If it is true that gods are to be worshiped for blessings in this life only and there is a causative connection between the two, then there could be some ground for complaint. However, as Augustine demonstrates, Rome’s pagan gods had been unable to prevent past defeats when they had been worshiped as the national religion. He then explains, that although there is no direct connection between the two, there is an indirect undercurrent at work. He explains that there is a purpose in suffering – both for the righteous and the wicked. For the righteous God uses suffering to purify their desires and refine their character, while for the wicked he uses it to judge their behaviour. He explains it with the analogy of fire: “the fire which makes the gold shine makes chaff smoke” (1.8).

Augustine then address some of the practical pastoral issues that such suffering produces – what about Christians who were not buried? What about Christian women who were raped? What about those who committed suicide because of the shame of their assault? These were pressing issues of his day and he seeks to answer the issues they raise. Regarding the issues of burial, he says that based on Matthew 10.28  those who cannot kill the soul can do nothing with a dead body that can threaten the resurrection.

With regard to rape, Augustine seeks to comfort those who have suffered under this terrible violation with the thought that chastity and purity is something that cannot be taken away without our consent. He uses the example from popular culture of Lucretia’s suicide to illustrate that the Romans believed it was possible to remain innocent and yet be violated in this way. However, he cannot agree with her suicide as the right response for he sees this as an unnecessary reaction to perceived immortality. He quotes a saying of the time that “there were two people involved and only one committed adultery” (1.19). Hence, he sees this as murdering an innocent person – themselves! For if the person really is innocent of immorality then what right have they to murder themselves and commit such a sin.

He then asks if suicide can ever be a noble act of self-sacrifice to avoid being defiled. Augustine argues that one sin should not be avoided by committing another – particularly if committing an actual sin to avoid a potential sin. He takes this to its logical extreme and says that if we really wanted to avoid all potential sin we should commit suicide straight after being saved. For at this point we can avoid all future sin and ensure that we have been cleansed of all sin. By using this extreme example he shows how absurd this train of thinking is. True greatness, he argues, is a “spirit that has the strength to endure a life of misery instead of running away from it” (1.22). He does add the caveat that in some exceptional circumstances (e.g. Samson’s suicide) God may directly proscribe a particular act that in normal circumstances would be disallowed.

In the final few chapters he returns to the issue that he began with and says that the real reason the anti-Christians complain is because they want to return to their indulgent and indolent past. He paints a vivid picture of pagan hedonism that was mediated through the plays and actors of ancient Rome. Actors that were, apparently, producing degraded plays at the request of these pagan gods. He concludes that a further use of temporal judgements is to curb our lusts by fear of punishment. He rebukes their inconsistency when “you refuse to be held responsible for the evil that you do, while you hold the Christian era responsible for the evil which you suffer” (1.33).

Response

This is a wide-ranging and thought-provoking first book from Augustine. I agree with his basic argument about the difficulty of attributing cause and effect between temporal events and the worship of false gods or even the true God. For it is only when God speaks into his creation (either in prophecy or interpretation) to explain the purpose of a particular event that we can be certain of his intention. It would be difficult to argue for the truthfulness of Israel’s God if military victories were the only criteria we had to go on. Many times Israel was routed before its enemies – most often because of their unfaithfulness. But to an outside observer, such as the Assyrians attacking Judah in 2 Kings 18.31-35, it seemed that Israel was like any other nation. Only the interpretation of the prophets provides the context for the various judgements on the nation.

However, I found his view of rape to be too influenced by Greek thought, who regarded the body (flesh) as evil and the spirit (soul) pure. Hence he thinks that what happens to one can be isolated from the other – the body can be defiled while mind and spirit remains pure. I struggle to share this view as I see the body inextricable connected to spirit so that what defiles one defiles the other. Finally, I didn’t share all his comments on suicide. However, it did remind me of the current debate on assisted suicide in the UK and his encouragement to take the nobler path of enduring difficulties rather than taking the drastic but immediate way out is a timely reminder of the virtue of perseverance.

Father, help me to see you are guiding the current of my life, but not need an explanation for every breaking wave. I seek you and know that you are shaping my life, through the good and hard times. Help me to be content with knowing the destination, without questionning the purpose of each trial that leads me to you. I trust in you Lord, grant me perserverance to endure to the end, Amen