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I have heard several of the places I have lived in or visited over the years referred to as “godforsaken” or “a place of darkness.” Whether it was my undergraduate college – a wealthy but non-Christian campus, or one of the three cities in which I've invested much time and energy – Juarez, Mexico, Camden, New Jersey, or (West) Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, I simply haven't seen the evidence that would give weight to these pronouncements. Undoubtedly, the comments refer to visible poverty, violence, broken governments, non-mainstream cultures, prevalent immorality, or anti-Christian sentiments. As Robert Linthicum notes, however, in his book, City of God, City of Satan, many people are suffering from a theology gap when it comes to these places –and specifically, the city (20). The greatest indicators of this gap are a failure to distinguish between corporate and individual sin and a failure to comprehend God's heart for “the least, the last, and the lost.” As Christians, we cannot afford to write off huge segments of the world population as dwelling in “godforsaken” or “dark” places. Instead, we must learn to bridge the theological gap to the city and see through the spiritual smog that has settled there. Jesus proclaimed that “You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden” (Matthew 5:14), so surely he did not intend for our urban areas to be abandoned to the darkness.
The surface signs of a city's disinvestment were examined previously from a purely economic standpoint. In that study, it was determined that most people fall into one of two camps with regard to explaining poverty: they either blame flawed character – individuals not putting forth the effort to better themselves, or flawed systems – social institutions and practices that limit peoples' opportunities to succeed. More specifically, those presently in power cite the flawed character argument, while those at the bottom of the economic ladder cite flawed systems. Everyone is biased by their own experience and social positioning. The research literature confirms that more than individual choices have been at stake in creating the conditions of poverty in many of America's cities. Ethnic, racial, and gender-based discrimination – both historical and present – affects the labor force participation rate, access to education, access to affordable housing, the quality and availability of healthcare and other social services, the justness of the justice system, and average levels of income, wealth, and access to capital. Together, these systemic factors compound into a self-perpetuating cycle of poverty within which violence, drugs, prostitution, and out-of-wedlock births start to look like rational choices. Taking these conclusions a step further, Linthicum asks how this state of affairs might be explained spiritually.
The Bible, from Genesis to Revelation, paints cities into two ideal types: Jerusalem – the city of God, and Babylon – the city of Satan. In reality, every earthly city is a combination of the two: a city of light trying to shine through the ever-forming layers of smog. This “smog” is essentially sin, and from a flawed character perspective, a city grows to look more like Babylon when the individual sins of its inhabitants are rampant and detestable. According to Linthicum, though, “the city's evil is far greater than the sum of the sin of its individuals” (46). Sin, in his experience and mine, is corporate as well as individual. Society as a whole has turned against God and ceased to live according to God's commandments and precepts. Corporate sin pervades the economic, political and religious systems of the city. Linthicum highlights King Solomon's reign as an example of economic sin: Solomon fails to be a good steward of his land and resources, and instead greed and exploitation are the hallmarks of his kingdom (51-53). King Ahab's rule is a prime example of a politics infused with sin: he insists on maintaining power to the degree that it undermines even Yahweh (57). The boy king Josiah facilitates the opposite extreme, which is equally problematic: he creates a legalistic theocracy in which the religious and political systems are one and the same, and belief ceases to be a freewill act (59). Though it can be argued that these kings were acting as individuals, their positions of power meant that their choices were reflected in most, if not all, of the social institutions at the time. These corrupt institutions, in turn, affected the ability of the city's individuals to make choices that would draw them back into the favor of God. And even beyond corporate sins that are economic, political, and religious, the city's greatest sin is one of idolatry. Jerusalem, the chosen city of the Lord, described in Ezekiel 16 as His one great love, collectively turns its worship elsewhere. Infuriated, God tells his people their sins are worse than those of Sodom and Samaria, and He pronounces His punishment:
- Then I will hand you over to your lovers, and they will tear down your mounds and destroy your lofty shrines. They will strip you of your clothes and take your fine jewelry and leave you naked and bare. They will bring a mob against you, who will stone you and hack you to pieces with their swords. They will burn down your houses and inflict punishment on you in the sight of many women. I will put a stop to your prostitution, and you will no longer pay your lovers. (Ezekiel 16:39-41)
The smog that envelopes a city can thus be attributed in large part to the sin that has infected its systems and structures.
A phrase that appears throughout the Bible in reference to cities is “principalities and powers.” According to Linthicum, “'Principalities and powers' may be celestial (1 Peter 3:22), [...] solely terrestrial and earthly (Ps. 8), or both celestial and terrestrial at the same time (Ps. 103:13-22, Col. 1:15-20)” (68). In other words, they may on the one hand refer to the structures mentioned above as vehicles of corporate human sin, or on the other hand they may represent the influence of spiritual forces beyond human control. Linthicum remarks that every city has a “brooding angel.” This angel is the spirit that infuses the city's people and institutions and – for better or for worse – makes it unique (75). The city's spirit and its individuals mutually impact one another, which is why it is essential that both remain centered on Christ. A failure to acknowledge this interplay can be damaging, Linthicum argues:
- This naivete is due to the difficulty Christians have in understanding the spiritual dynamism of a system. We essentially see systems as static, humanly conceived, and humanly driven machines. In reality they have a life of their own, a living spiritual dimension that, like a human, can resist, seduce, marginalize, or isolate those whom the system perceives as a threat to them and their power. (78)
The principalities and powers must be confronted, then, on both an earthly and a celestial level. Satan and the corporate sin of a city feed off one another to create atmospheric conditions that are ideal for smog.
Obviously, sin, smog, and the desires of Satan are outside the will of God. Let us take a minute to look at what God's vision for the city entails. There is Psalm 48, wherein the city's praises are sung: “It is beautiful in its loftiness, the joy of the whole earth. Like the utmost heights of Zaphon is Mount Zion, the city of the Great King” (Ps. 48:2). The Lord describes his rescue of and preference for Jerusalem again in Ezekiel 16:6-8:
- Then I passed by and saw you kicking about in your blood, and as you lay there in your blood I said to you, "Live!" I made you grow like a plant of the field. You grew up and developed and became the most beautiful of jewels. Your breasts were formed and your hair grew, you who were naked and bare. Later I passed by, and when I looked at you and saw that you were old enough for love, I spread the corner of my garment over you and covered your nakedness. I gave you my solemn oath and entered into a covenant with you, declares the Sovereign LORD, and you became mine.
And always side by side with the prophets' condemnations of the city's idolatries are promises of renewal and restoration: “For Zion's sake I will not keep silent, for Jerusalem's sake I will not remain quiet, till her righteousness shines out like the dawn, her salvation like a blazing torch [...] No longer will they call you Deserted, or name your land Desolate. But you will be called Hephzibah [my delight is in her]” (Isaiah 62:1,4). Perhaps nothing brings more hope than the description of the New Jerusalem – the city made new – in Revelation, which begins,
- I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” (Revelation 21:1-4)
Of course, these passages just scratch the surface of scripture that is available to describe God's heart for the city. Another name that is given for the New Jerusalem is the kingdom of God. Basic characteristics of this kingdom include liberation from oppression, economic equality and provision for the poor, and peace and wholeness (the concept of shalom). Like the principalities and powers with which God's children must contend, the kingdom of God is also both terrestrial and celestial. While its celestial component is what many people refer to as heaven, its terrestrial component is described by Luke: “The kingdom of God does not come with your careful observation, nor will people say 'Here it is,' or 'There it is,' because the kingdom of God is within you” (Luke 17:20-21). The city made new is here and now!
This begs the question, if the kingdom of God is within us, how can we let it out to make life “on earth as it is in heaven”? What needs to be done so that the city on a hill can be seen through the smog? Linthicum finds that for the most part, the church is usually so focused on ministry to individuals and congregations that it ignores the systems of the city and ends up leaving them vulnerable to Satan's influence (77). Instead, “the task of the church, Paul declares, is to make known the 'manifold witness of God' both to the principalities and powers and to the rulers and authorities of the systems they inhabit” (72). How can this be done? Linthicum suggests the biblical template of Jesus' healing of blind man in John chapter 9. First, we must expose peoples' blindness by revealing the unjust systems of the city for what they really are. Then, we must help them see an alternative scenario in the transformed city of God. Put differently, “The vocation of the church in the city is to be the dreamer and the advocate for a city given over to God” (144).
In terms of daily actions, this can mean a lot of things, all of which are rooted in scriptural passages and principles. First and foremost is personal spiritual formation, which includes praying for the city (see Ps. 122:6-9). We must also be present in the city, which may mean moving for some (see Jer. 29:5-6). We must be better stewards of the resources of the city (see Ex. 16, Lev. 25). We must build networks and organize people (see Nehemiah 2-3). We must deal creatively with conflict (see Matt. 5:38-42). When our work is done, we must celebrate with our city (see Nehemiah 8). All in all, we must keep in mind two warnings: practice proclamation only alongside compassion, and be sure that our actions are contextualized. Not every community development project is going to perfectly parallel the story of Nehemiah. Finally, we must strive to embody the biblical vision of true community. Linthicum describes this vision well: “For these Christians, community was more than the sum of their relationships together. It was the base upon which they build their church life, their worship, and their willingness to serve each other and the hurting around their neighborhoods and cities” (256).
So, it looks like all we have to do is start living according to the Bible and the smog of the city will start to clear up. No problem, right? Ha. It is impossible for humans to make a godly city, because sin brings corruption into every system we create, most of which were initially intended for good. According to Linthicum, “[The church] will always fall back into a divided, fighting, barrier-building, prideful conglomerate of individuals. That is why the church needs the Holy Spirit” (273). Ultimately, it is God who redeems, God who reconciles, God who rebuilds. “From Him, through Him, and to Him are all things” (Romans 11:36). There is almost a note of mockery when the Lord declares through Ezekiel, “When I make atonement for you for all you have done, you will remember and be ashamed and never again open your mouth because of your humiliation” (Ezekiel 16:63). Our failures are complete – both individually and corporately. Linthicum sums it up well, saying, “We see that in Romans [8:18-23], Paul is teaching that there is no dichotomy between the individual and his corporate environment (whether social or physical). It is all of one cloth. It is all corrupted by sin. And God has provided for the redemption of it all. That, by inference, would include the city” (118). The best we can do, then, is to step aside and make room for the King's triumphal entry into the city. “Jesus came to the city to die for the city, its systems, and its people” (127). We can do no better than to pick up our own crosses and follow him in.
Let us return quickly to the cities I have heard deemed “godforsaken” and “places of darkness.” My undergraduate college has an active, unified Christian Fellowship that transformed my life and those of many others. The “ecumenical” chapel is engraved with the words, “The strength of the hills is his also.” Juarez, Mexico is filled with smiling children that I have seen grow into mature teens and inspirational leaders. Camden, NJ, denoted by Walt Whitman as the “city invincible,” is home to the most transformational community church that I have ever been a part of. West Philadelphia embodies the words of the Lord in Revelation to the biblical church in Philadelphia: “See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut. I know that you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name [...] I am coming soon. Hold on to what you have, so that no one will take your crown” (Rev. 3:8,11). These are places of hope. They are surrounded in spiritual smog, but deep down, they are all “cities invincible,” cities of light. God's message for the renewal of the city is not tangential; it is the heart of the gospel, woven into every facet of the metanarrative. The task is far from easy, but we are all called to “seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile” (Jer. 29:7).
Works Cited
Holy Bible. New International Version. International Bible Society, 1984.
Linthicum, Robert. City of God, City of Satan: A Biblical Theology of the Urban Church. Grand
Rapids, MI: Zondervan Publishing House, 1991.
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