Deacon Ray - A Tale of Two Cities
Today’s readings remind me a bit of Charles Dickens’ classic novel: A Tale of Two Cities. In that book, Dickens juxtaposes the relative peacefulness and prosperity of late 18th C London against the increasingly dark descent of Paris into revolutionary excess, chaos and violence. The opening line sets the stage thus: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”
I think there is a certain truth in those words pertaining to all times. As Saint Augustine pointed out many centuries ago, there are indeed two Cities vying for our allegiance: the City of Man and the City of God. One City seeks to gain our allegiance with promises of power, comfort and wealth, while the other City, shining the light of truth on these shadowy deceptions, offers instead powerlessness, persecution, and poverty. But, in the affairs of God and Man, things are not always as they appear to be.
For the third week now, the Gospel has focused upon the moment of Jesus’ baptism — which is presented in the readings from Isaiah as the pivotal moment in history when the Light of Heaven burst into the darkness that reigned on earth. Now we are free to turn from darkness, despair and death, and choose light, love and life. That is the Good News that Jesus proclaimed immediately after His baptism, and that He kept proclaiming throughout the Gospel. Jesus phrased it this way: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”
That is, we are now able, by God’s grace, finally to turn away from the darkness and oppression of the City of Man, and turn toward God’s light and the glory of the City of God. For a little while, these two Cities both vie for our allegiance, and depending upon our choices we can truly say either that now is the best of times or the worst of times. Even as I wrote these words today, I heard the sirens of Minneapolis wailing again outside my window their tale of woe, and of man’s inhumanity to man, and I thought, there has to be a better way. Well, there is a better way. There is a better City! But it is a real choice. And it demands all or nothing.
The word “repent” means to turn away. We cannot choose the kingdom of heaven until we turn away from the the kingdoms of the earth. Turning toward the light means turning away from the darkness. And turning toward Jesus means turning away from insisting on going our own way. But the choice is a blessed one, Isaiah explains, for in choosing Heaven we exchange gloom for joy, burdens for merry-making, and death for life.
The choice is blessed, but it is not easy. When Jesus called His disciples to follow Him, they had to leave everything behind: their boats, their nets, their way of life — even their father. And all but one of them also eventually gave their lives away for Jesus as well. Not all are called to blood martyrdom, of course, but all are nonetheless called to a whole new way of life in Christ. What life in Christ looks like will be elaborated more fully in the weeks to come, beginning next week with the Beatitudes, just as it unfolds for each of us with each passing week of our lives. But some things come into focus already in today’s readings.
First, the definitive declaration of our allegiance to the City of God begins with our baptism — just as Christ’s ministry began with His baptism — but it does not end there. Baptism represents dying to our old way of life (ceremonially drowning underwater) only then to emerge into newness of life in Christ. But that ceremonial dying is only but begun, as when we emerge from the waters of baptism still we are led to carry our cross daily to follow Jesus. Thus, our whole lives are in a sense repeatedly putting to death having our own way, renouncing our own petty kingdoms, so that we can at last rise to glorious and everlasting life in the kingdom of heaven.
Second, our new life in Christ has a purpose, and it is not entirely different from our old way of life: rather our native individuality, our former selves, are sanctified and transformed into something even better. The disciples, for instance, gave up their old lives as fishermen to follow Jesus. But in doing so, they took up their new lives as fishers of men. Instead of bringing fish out of the dark waters below, now they would bring men out of the darkness of the City of Man into the splendor of the City of God.
And finally, though we are called to leave family behind if need be, in following Jesus we find ourselves still surrounded by family. Peter came with his brother Andrew; James came with John; and they soon became a family of twelve disciples. Paul’s Epistle likewise reminds us that baptized believers are a new family: the family of God, with Christ as head of our family.
Since we are one family, Paul urges us to act like it, by putting an end to quarreling and divisions among us. For when we quarrel, we divide. And when we divide insisting on our own way, then it is like we are setting up a new City of Self in opposition to the City of God. And while these two cities contend within us for our ultimate allegiance, it will continue to be for us both the best of times and the worst of times, until we surrender (again and again) and follow Jesus.