It's pretty challenging to try and compare one utopia to another, because they all seem to have such different values, priorities, customs, etc. But when we trace all of these texts back to Plato, we can in fact connect most utopian thinking to two key concepts: happiness and justice.
But what do we mean when we use these terms? And how do these two measures of happiness and justice work together?
To explain this in a visual way, my husband came up with this awesome tool and I am excited to share it with you. (click on the pic to enlarge.)
We sat down and started thinking about where different Utopian texts, communities, and experiments fell and plotted many of them out on these two axes. I've included four on the graph above. I'll briefly explain one of my choices that you may not be familiar with:
Dave Bruno is the man behind the "100 Thing Challenge." You can check out his blog, or read this piece from Time Magazine to learn about his quest to own only 100 items. This strikes me as a highly individual sense of happiness (his quest does not include reducing the possessions of even his immediate family, just himself), but also a highly rule-driven one. So he goes in the top-left corner of my graph.
The two axes represent what I see as the two basic ways to quantify a utopia. Sure, the goal of utopia is happiness (represented on the x-axis), but is it an individual's happiness that is at stake, or are we concerned with the happiness of a larger society?
And if happiness is to be achieved through justice (represented on the y-axis), how do we define that term? Can each person define her or his own ideas of justice? Or is justice codified in laws for the larger community?
So, what do you think about where I have placed Dave and the other three items on my graph? Would you place them elsewhere? Notice that I have purposefully tried to give you what I see as the four extremes; I have other items that I see as falling in between these four endpoints.
I'd love to see (in class, or here) your own versions of this graph. I think it will be quite helpful for you as you move into your SWOT Analysis and Research Essay writing over the next month. So, you can download your own version of this graph and try it out yourself.
St. Augustine states that there are two
cities; the earthly city, and the heavenly city. In the earthly city, man lives
for himself and in the heavenly city man lives for God. I believe that no man
or woman is comprised of just evil, or just good. Instead, I think that
everyone has both traits of good and evil within. What a person does with their
life, ultimately dictates whether they are perceived by others as being good or
evil or perceived by themselves as good or evil.
The perception of what is considered good,
or evil will vary from person to person, and because of this, I do not truly
feel that St. Augustine’s perception of the Earthly City being evil and the Heavenly
City being good is completely accurate. I think that good and evil coincide in
both realms because “good” people are known to do bad things from time to time,
while “bad” people are known to do good from time to time. How you view the
idea of good and bad, dictates how a person is going to behave.
St. Augustine is arguing that living for God
automatically classifies you as a candidate for being part of the Heavenly City,
and that living for self automatically makes you a candidate for evil. Living for yourself should not necessarily
make you an evil person, just as living for God does not automatically make you
a good person.
Living for God to me means that you are a
servant for others, while living for self-means that you are self-serving.
People who live for themselves do not bear the burden of having to constantly
please others, so they do not give in to the mob mentally of others. Living for
God can be an excuse to do things that most people would consider wrong. When
people say, “Only God can judge me”, they are basically saying that God has
given them total authority and rights to do as they please.
There is no true measure to indicate
whether a person is good, or evil, but instead a person’s actions are the
deciding factor for whether or not that person is good. The judgment lies in
their own personal opinions, along with the opinions of others.
Is Augustine's Heavenly City a utopia?
Initially, I thought that it wasn't based on Lyman Tower Sargent's
definition: “[It involves] a topos—a
location in time and space” (5); however, I've given
it some thought, and it appears to fit the criteria.
First, let's look at the temporary
City of God, the one which inhabits the people who work toward peace
on earth. Does it have some sort of physical location? It is located
in the physical being of the aforementioned group of people. The
answer to this question, therefore, is “yes.” Does it exist in
some point in time? Well, this City got its start with the birth of
Christianity, which would indicate that it exists in some sort of
temporal way. The answer to this question, then, is also “yes.”
It looks like the temporary City fits the bill.
Now let's look at the eternal City of
God, which is heaven. At first, it appears as though this version of
the City disqualifies its possibility of being a utopia because it
doesn't appear to exist in time or space. A closer examination of
Christian canon, however, reveals that the final version of the City
of God does indeed exist in time and space in some sort of capacity.
For instance, the book of Revelation states that the New Heaven will
be located on the New Earth. While this description is rather vague,
it does actually situate the City at some point in space. Revelation
also describes the City as being the beginning of Eternity—at
which point time no longer matters—but
the fact that it begins could indicate that it exists at some point
in time even if time is irrelevant. It would seem, then, that
Augustine's heavenly City also fits Sargent's description.
And yet it doesn't. Sargent also
states that a utopia is a “no place,” meaning that it doesn't
exist (5). To Augustine (and the larger Christian community), both
the temporary City and the heavenly City are very real places, which
means that they exist in some capacity. In this way, they do not fit
Sargent's description and therefore are not “utopias” by
his definition. Reading Augustine's work really made me think hard
about this, and even though I thought the Heavenly City may be a
utopia by Sargent's definition, it isn't.
Lastly, I'd like to give a quick
explanation of the temporary City of God. The common belief is that
when a person accepts Christ, he or she immediately becomes a citizen
of the Kingdom of Heaven. Scripture then states that he or she is no
longer a citizen of the world, meaning that his or her worldly nature
and national heritage no longer matter. This individual is
spiritually bound to all others with the same faith, meaning that
they are united into one big City. This is where Augustine gets his
idea. Hopefully, this helps explain it a bit.
(Image of New Heaven taken from www.bloodynailsguiltyhands.wordpress.com).
There
is one particular passage of Saint Augustine’s City of God that stuck out to me. Frankly, it opened my eyes. This chapter’s
thesis – namely, that grief for a loss of some good (for example, salvation) is
itself proof of a “good nature” – I found very theologically and
philosophically profound. Even though it may or may not relate to utopianism, I
still wish to share with you my thoughts.
Have
you ever felt that you have failed? Have you ever felt that you have fallen short
of some moral force? Whether or not we failed God, our family, our friends, our
superiors, or ourselves, the same emotion is universally expressed: sorrow, distress,
disappointment. We all feel a sense of suffering, and we hate that that feeling
comes up. Wouldn’t it be better not to feel sorrow when we fail?
Augustine
says that this feeling of suffering is, in fact, a blessing: “For a sinner is
in a worse state if he rejoices in the loss of righteousness; but a sinner who
feels anguish, though he may gain no good from his anguish, is at least grieving
at the loss of salvation.” He continues on the same page, “Just as delight in
the abandonment of good, when a man sins, is evidence of a bad will, so grief
at the loss of good, when a man is punished, is evidence of a good nature”
(871).
So,
let’s say that I lost something dear to me. My family, my dog, my best friend,
my salvation – take your pick. How would you expect me to react?
Like
this:
http://ecoaffect.org
Or
like this:
http://www.theboringrunner.com
Hopefully,
the first picture is your answer. To Augustine, the fact that I am sorrowful
about my loss is proof that I am good, and that there is still peace within me.
Augustine says that my “grief arises from some remnants of that peace” (872). I
distress over my loss because I still have good within me – evil or suffering
cannot exist by itself (871).
On
the other hand, if I were to react to my loss with joy, then something is
clearly wrong with me. Some may even say that my reaction is wholly
inappropriate and, frankly, monstrous. “But I’m staying positive,” I may reply
back. And this is true, on the basic level. The actual emotion of joy and happiness
is itself positive, but that fact does not negate that I rejoice over the loss
of goodness.
This
brings me to another related point: we must recognize that we have lost
something. If I sit by idly with no recognition that I lost something, then I do
not have inner peace. Grief is a reaction that shows that my “nature is still
on friendly terms with itself” (872). If I don’t grieve, then I am not at war
with myself – which can lead, as we learned, to hating one’s neighbor and one’s
city (870; 876).
In
order to connect this post to our reading of Saint Benedict’s Rule (and because
I like sharing all things Latin), please find below the prayer Confiteor, here chanted for usage in the
Benedictine Order (hence the addition of Saint Benedict in the list of saints).
This prayer, which varied in length from century to century, was first used in
the liturgy in the eleventh century. I believe it can serve as a perfect
example of my post, With grief and sorrow, one recognizes their own fault
before God, and hence, to Augustine, shows that they still have an inner peace
of soul.
Please
note: After the prayer (1:51 mark), starts a Greek prayer (Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison (meaning, “Lord, have mercy; Christ,
have mercy”)).
Here
is an English translation of the Confiteor:
“I confess to
Almighty God, to blessed Mary ever Virgin, to blessed Michael the Archangel, to
blessed John the Baptist, to the holy Apostles Peter and Paul, to our blessed Father
Benedict, to all the Saints, and to you, brethren, that I have sinned
exceedingly in thought, word and deed: through my fault, through my fault,
through my most grievous fault. Therefore I beseech blessed Mary ever Virgin,
blessed Michael the Archangel, blessed John the Baptist, the holy Apostles
Peter and Paul, all the Saints, and you, brethren, to pray for me to the Lord
our God.”
If we’re being honest, as I was reading Augustine’s City of God, I found myself asking in
mild annoyance “Why are we reading this?” I continued to read on and the words
began to blur together in a film of love and peace and happiness. But wait,
what’s so bad about all of those things? Initially I didn’t take the time to
look closely and discover for myself how and why this would be included as a
piece of utopian work. However, after our first class discussion I began to
have a better understanding of what Augustine had in mind. Then, when I sat
down to finish the reading I felt more open and comfortable with his ideas.
With my own religious views aside, I strongly believe in
many of Augustine’s main principles that allow people entrance into the Heavenly
City. I believe that one of Augustine’s main points is the importance of “love
of God and love of neighbor” (873). This turns out to be especially positive
because it encourages us to love God, ourselves, and the people around us. Even
if you do not believe in God and thus cannot find it in your heart to love Him,
what could be negative about intentionally loving yourself and those around
you? The emphasis on love and peace in this piece is what I believe allows
Augustine to touch the believers and non-believers alike. In my opinion more
love tends to equate to happier citizens.
All of the love and mushy stuff aside, well mostly aside, I also
particularly like that Augustine points out that all types of people are
allowed into the Heavenly City. He explains that “While this Heavenly City,
therefore, is on pilgrimage in this world, she calls out citizens from all
nations and so collects a society of aliens, speaking all languages” (878).
This is where I was able to make the connection that for me summed up the whole
and purpose of this reading. As far as I interpret it, Augustine believes that
here on Earth each person’s life is his/her own private and temporary utopia.
Once we die and reach Heaven, as long as we lived our lives according to the
rules of God, we will reach the ultimate utopia. Augustine doesn’t actually use
the word utopia, but for sake of argument in this class that is what we will
call it. And in my humble opinion, leaving out all of the obvious potential
issues and gray places where things can and will likely go wrong, who doesn’t want to live a better life here on
Earth filled with love and peace and happiness just to reach an even happier
eternal life?
The Sack of Rome by the Visigoths in 410
AD was more than just a single event in history. To contemporary Romans, their
entire world was falling apart at the seams. What had caused such an event to occur,
where the center of the Roman Empire itself falls? Saint Jerome, in a letter
written two years after the Sack, bluntly states that “The City which had taken
the whole world was itself taken.”[1]
What did the Romans blame this
catastrophe on? After all, the last time Rome was sacked was over eight hundred
years earlier, around 390 BC,[2]
so, according to contemporaries something introduced in the meantime must have
caused this. But what?
Flickr.com
Sadly, not this.
The most obvious introduction is the
advent and rise of Christianity. Catholic Christianity had become the official state
religion of the Roman Empire less than fifty years prior to the attack, in
380 AD.[3]
Those who were over thirty years old would clearly connect the downfall of the
Eternal City to the introduction and acceptance of this new and foreign religion.
Clearly, to these people, the ancient Roman gods were punishing them for
accepting this religion from Judea!
Bibleartists.wordpress.com
Among other things, Christianity introduced table-flipping boxing.
However, Augustine notes a sort of
irony in those who assert this theory. He notes, perhaps correctly (I’ll leave
you to decide), that these Romans “would not be able to utter a word against
the City if, when fleeing from the sword of their enemy, they had not found, in
the City’s holy places, the safety on which they now congratulate themselves” (pg
6). In other words, the entire reason for their survival is the very thing in
which they claim caused the Sack.
Vintageprintable.com
As I type this post, I have not read any
other portion of the reading – I have only read the Introduction and Book I. Therefore,
I see this introduction for the City of
God as a small taste of things to come. Augustine here tells us that the
divine City – which, I believe, can represent anything from Heaven to the
Church itself – trumps the temporal City of Man. The Visigoths would not have “[shown]
mercy beyond the customs of war” if it weren’t for their “honor of the name of
Christ” (pg 7). To Augustine, the fact that the Visigoths had spared those who
hid in the churches shows a more powerful force at work, which proves
superiority to most other instances of war. Had Christianity not been there,
all of Rome would have been dead. As you may have noticed, the medieval
historian inside me is ecstatic. You can always count on me to be excited about
the most challenging reading in class. Definitely expect more posts to follow
soon!
