Chapter 443 of 590

39:823–24). For a discussion, O'Donovan, Problem of Self-Love, 93–111.

39:823–24). For a discussion, O'Donovan, Problem of Self-Love, 93–111.

people in the human city live according to human standards, and their only goals have been the goods of their bodies or of the mind or both. Though some of them have reached a knowledge of God, "they did not glorify Him as God or give thanks, but became vain in their reasonings, and their senseless minds have been darkened. For while professing to be wise" (that is to say, while glorifying in their own wisdom, under the domination of pride), "they have become fools, and they have changed the glory of the incorruptible God for the likeness of an image of a corruptible man and birds and four-footed beasts and creeping things" (meaning that they either led their people, or imitated them, in adoring idols shaped like these things), "and they worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator who is blessed forever" (Rom 1:21–25). In the City of God, on the contrary, there is no mere human wisdom, but there is a piety which worships the true God as He should be worshiped and has as its goal that reward of all holiness, whether in the society of saints on earth or in that of angels of heaven, which is "that God may be all in all" (1 Cor 15:28).35

Polemic Against Pagan Critics

(Books 1–10)

Providence and the Experience of Disaster

On the City of God is, in part, theodicy, an attempt to grapple with God's justice, on the one hand, and, on the other, the mystery of evil, especially the seemingly random anguish and evil that take place amid the chaotic brutality of war. In the following passage, Augustine sets out his views on the hidden providence at work in the brutal experience of those who suffered Rome's sack. From On the City of God, Book 1:

(8) But someone will say: "How, then, is it that this divine mercy was bestowed on the impious and ungrateful?" Surely the answer is that mercy was shown by the One who, day by day, "makes His sun to rise upon the good and bad, and rains upon the just and the unjust" (Mt 5:45). For although some who reflect on these truths repent and are converted from their wickedness, others, according to the words of the Apostle, despise "the riches of His goodness and long-suffering, in the hardness of their heart and impen-

35. Civ. Dei 14.28 (CCL 48:451–52); trans. Walsh and Monahan, FOTC 14:410–11. See en. Ps. 64.2 (CCL 39:823–24). For a discussion, O'Donovan, Problem of Self-Love, 93–111.

On the City of God

itence," and treasure up to themselves "wrath against the day of wrath and revelation of the just judgment of God, who will render to everyone according to his works" (Rom 2:5–6). Nevertheless, God's patience is an invitation to the wicked to do penance, just as God's scourge is a school of patience for the good. In a similar way, God's mercy embraces the good with love, just as His severity corrects the wicked with punishment. It has pleased Divine Providence to prepare, for the just, joys in the world to come in which the unjust will have no part, and for the impious, pains which will not afflict the virtuous. But as for the paltry goods and evils of this transitory world, these He allotted alike to just and unjust in order that one not seek too eagerly after these goods which even the wicked possess, nor shrink too readily from those ills which commonly afflict the just.

There is, however, a vast difference between the manner in which we use what we call prosperity and adversity. A good person is neither puffed up by fleeting success nor broken by adversity, whereas a bad one is chastised by failure of this sort because he is corrupted by success. God often shows His intervention more clearly by the way He apportions the sweet and the bitter. For if He visited every sin here below with manifest penalty, it might be thought that no score remained to be settled at the Last Judgment. On the other hand, if God did not plainly enough punish sin on earth, people might conclude that there is no such thing as Divine Providence. So too in regard to the good things of life. If God did not bestow them with patent liberality on some who ask Him, we could possibly argue that such things did not depend on His power. On the other hand, if He lavished them on all who asked, we might have the impression that God is to be served only for the gifts He bestows. In that case, the service of God would not make us religious, but rather covetous and greedy. In view of all that, when good and bad suffer alike, they are not for that reason indistinguishable because what they suffer is similar. The sufferers are different even though the sufferings are the same trials. Though what they endure is the same, their virtue and vice are different. For in the same fire, gold gleams and straw smokes; under the same flail the stalk is crushed and the grain threshed; the dregs are not mistaken for olive oil because they have issued from the press. So, too, the tide of trouble will test, purify, and improve the good, but will beat, crush, and wash away the wicked. So it is that, under the weight of the same affliction, the wicked deny and blaspheme God while the good pray to Him and praise Him. The difference is not in what people suffer but in the way they suffer. The same shaking that makes fetid water stink makes perfume issue a more pleasant odor.

(9) What then did the Christians suffer in the great devastation of Rome which, if taken in a spirit of faith, would not have served for their greater good? For one thing, if they humbly call to mind the sins for which God in His anger filled the world with calamities, they will not judge themselves to be so little responsible for these sins as not to have deserved some measure of temporal affliction—even though they were far from being godless and criminals. The fact is that everyone, however exemplary, yields to some promptings of concupiscence—if not to monstrous crimes, abysmal villainy, and abominable impiety, then at least to some sins, however rarely or (if frequently) however venially. Apart from this fact, I say, is it easy to find anyone who treats as he should those whose horrible pride, lust, avarice, damnable depravity, and scoffing impiety caused God to lay desolate the earth, as was threatened in prophecy? Does anyone live with them in a way that life ought to be lived with such people?

For the most part, we hesitate to instruct, to admonish, and, as occasion demands, to correct, and even to reprehend them. This we do either because the effort wearies us, or we fear offending them, or we avoid antagonizing them lest they thwart or harm us in those temporal matters where our selfishness always seeks to acquire things or our faint hearts fear to lose them. Thus, the good shun the wicked and hence will not share in their damnation beyond the grave. Nevertheless, because they wink at their worse sins and fear to frown even on their minor transgressions, the good must in justice suffer temporal afflictions in common with the rest—even though they will escape eternal ones. Thus, when God's hand falls as heavily on them as on the others, it is just that they should taste the bitter things of this earthly life because they loved the sweet things and refused to feel compunction while others sinned.

At times, one hesitates to reprove or admonish evildoers, either because one seeks a more favorable moment or fears that his rebuke may make them worse, and further, discourage weak brethren from striving to lead a good and holy life, or turn them aside from the faith. In such circumstances, forbearance is not prompted by selfish considerations but by well-advised charity. What is reprehensible, however, is that, while leading good lives themselves and abhorring those of the wicked, some, fearing to offend, shut their eyes to evil deeds instead of condemning them and pointing out their malice. To be sure, the motive behind their tolerance is that they may suffer no hurt in the possession of those temporal goods which the virtuous and blameless may lawfully enjoy. Still, there is more self-seeking here than is becoming for people who are mere sojourners in this world and who profess the hope of a home in heaven.

In truth, it is not only people of less lofty virtue, who live in the married state, having (or seeking to have) children, and possessing a home and household of their own—people such as those whom St. Paul, in the first churches, instructed and admonished how to live: wives with husbands and husbands with wives; children with parents and parents with children; servants with masters and masters with servants—it is not only such people who acquire transitory and earthly goods with zest and lose them with chagrin and, because of that, dare not offend those whose immoral and vicious life revolts them. Even those who profess a more perfect life and are free from conjugal bonds and content with poorer food and dress are also over-solicitous for their good name and security and frequently forbear to reprehend the wicked because they fear their snares and violence. Though the good do not fear the wicked to the point of stooping under intimidation to their villainies and knavery, they often are unwilling to denounce such things, even when they might convert some souls as a result. Here again they fear that a possible failure to effect reform might jeopardize their security and reputation. It is not that they are convinced that these latter are an indispensable means for people's instruction. They are merely victims of that human infirmity which loves the flattering tongue and earthly life and which dreads the censure of the crowd and the anguish and death of the body. In other words, they shirk this duty of fraternal correction because of a certain slavishness to avarice, not because of the obligations of charity.

Hence, this seems to me sufficient reason why the good are scourged with the wicked as often as it pleases God to punish degenerate morals with temporal sufferings. Both are scourged not because both lead a bad life, but because both love an earthly life; not, indeed, to the same extent, but yet both together—a life which the good should think little of in order that the bad, by being admonished and reformed, may attain to eternal life. If the wicked refuse to be joined in the blessed endeavor, they should be brought along and loved as enemies are loved in Christian charity, since as long as they live there is always the possibility that they may come to a better mind. In this respect, the good to whom the Prophet addresses these words, "He is indeed taken away in his iniquity, but I will require his blood at the hand of the watchman" (Ezek 33:6), have not merely an equal but a far graver reason for concern or reflection. For this reason, overseers or rulers are set over the churches, to reprimand sin, not to spare it.36 Nor is one fully free from blame who is not in authority, but who notices in those persons he meets in social life many faults he should censure and admonish. He is blameworthy if he fails to do this out of fear of hurting feelings or losing such things as he may legitimately enjoy

36. "Overseers . . . reprimand sin": The image of the watchman from Ezekiel 33 and the task of reprimanding sin figure prominently in Augustine's self-conception as a bishop. See s. 339.

↑ Back to top

↑