In this first post, I simply want to reflect on how vital and relevant the book seems. It’s striking that even among a slew of historical details and all the particulars of Roman history that the underlying themes resonate so strongly. His reflections on the nature of empire, on suffering, on the nature of history itself have much to say to us now. Which I suppose is another way of saying the book is a classic for a reason. Even with its particularity it speaks almost universally. Take this statement, for example, where Augustine reflects on the desire of empires to insatiably expand:
“Why must an empire be deprived of peace, in order that it may be great? In regard to men’s bodies it is surely better to be of moderate size, and to be healthy, than to reach the immense stature of giant at the cost of unending disorders–not to rest when that stature is reached, but to be troubled with greater disorders with the increasing size of the limbs” (III.10).
One thinks here not only of empires that have expanded only to find themselves decaying from the inside, but in our own time, one thinks of corporations and financial institutions who are massive and lumbering and who may unknowingly carry cancer in their limbs as a result of their ever expanding size. I can’t but think when I read these lines that the flailing arms of an ailing giant can do great damage.
On another note, it’s interesting to reflect on how Augustine would have published his thoughts in our time. Certainly the thousand page brick sitting on my desk right now would have had a hard time getting published, even though the sprawling and discursive nature of the book is part of its charm. Because of its myriad interests and expansive scope, I wonder if he would have used a forum like this one to collect his thoughts. I know its anachronistic, and maybe even offensive to some, to think of City of God like a series of blog posts, but the book and chapter structure lends itself to small blog post like chunks. Of course, I could just be thinking this because I’m reading it in a blog-like way, three pages at a time.
Even so, there is something very un-blog like about the book because his project is to integrate the particulars into a coherent whole like a unified field theory of history and theology. It is hard to imagine any project in our time having such ambition, and if it did we would probably say it was doomed to failure from the outset. Which is one of the charms of reading old books–they don’t have to conform to our notions of what is possible and achievable.
I’m only a month into this, and it would be too hard to catch up, so if you read this, I would encourage to dive into *City of God* with me.