[1] Gilbert Meilander has let us in on his sustained and even
quite personal conversation with Augustine. It is a genuine
dialogue in which the views of the two parties concerning the
Christian life are sharpened by the exchange. We read in the
Preface that Augustine is cast as the teacher to whom the author
has returned, "… to think about some questions that never go
away. I began with the old puzzle about the relation between desire
and duty in the moral life, and I moved out from there to think
about the realms of life (politics and sex) in which we seek (and
often fail) to bring desire and duty into harmonious order. The
vision of life that emerges - at least as I read Augustine - is one
whose power lies chiefly in his sense that the way that leads to
God (and, hence to fulfillment) is a way that often hurts and
wounds us." (x) Here, then, we have a concise statement of how
the conversation will proceed and an initial sense of the wisdom
Augustine will bring to the author and to the reader.
[2] Even as Meilander at times goes beyond Augustine's views or
feels the need to revise them in some way, he does so only in the
process of taking them with utter seriousness and with deep respect
for the moral challenge they present. By doing so, Meilander helps
us to appreciate Augustine's grasp of the Christian life as a
companion along the path to our own decisions and insights and as a
source of caution not to stray too far in the confrontation with
our own very different world.
[3]As one would expect from as accomplished a theologian and
ethicist as Meilander, the book is closely reasoned and carefully
nuanced. For example, in the chapter on Duty Meilander walks
Augustine's strict prohibition on lying through the labyrinth of
qualifications and exceptions of the sort that are bound to arise
when this question is thoroughly explored. While such probing may
lead to a cogent and justifiable conclusion that in some ways
Augustine's uncompromising ideas about lying need modification, the
relation between Duty and Desire in his thought brings us up short.
Desire in Augustine is truly to seek God in who alone is true
happiness. But the "way that leads there" may involve pain. Our
temptation is to reframe both desire and duty in such a way as to
make things come out as we would like them. "By making duty
absolute, Augustine diverts us from our search for ways to unify
(by our own power) the right and the good in life…Thinking
with Augustine about the relation between desire and duty presses
us inexorably, therefore, toward a life that must be characterized
by hope (not in our own power to traverse this way, but in the
gracious power of God)" (75)[1]
[4] The chapter on Politics turns primarily to a discussion of
Augustine's City of God. Lutherans reading this chapter can be
forgiven perhaps if their thoughts wander to a comparison between
Augustine's account of the two cities, the City of God and the City
of Earth, and Luther's distinction between God's right and left
hand modes of rule that became known as the two kingdoms. It is not
appropriate to follow that path for the purposes of this review.
Nonetheless, it is worth noting that there is a strong element of
realism in Augustine that is echoed in Luther. Meilander's
discussion brings this Augustinian realism into sharp relief.
Augustine's discussion of the two cities offers a lens for
considering both the good and the limits of politics: "…the
first thing Christians must say is no to political pretension. Some
cities are better, others worse - but none is the City of God."
Moreover, "None of us belongs wholly and entirely to the realm of
politics, and the desire that moves us at the deepest reaches of
our being cannot be satisfied by political good." (94)
[5] Politics is not redemptive. Neither the Aristotelian ideal
of politics as the venue of human fulfillment nor utopian visions
or the inflated claims of American civil religion can claim
Christian loyalty. Nonetheless, Christians have duties in the
political realm for, as Meilander points out, Augustine desires a
peaceable politics because a peaceable state makes possible the
church's mission. That mission throughout the church's pilgrim
journey goes forward amidst the push and pull of the two cities,
interwoven as they are throughout history. Meilander's account of
Augustine's insights on how the church comports itself in that
situation produces relevant material for own society in which the
church's role in politics has been a source of confusion to many
and unmerited certainty to others.
[6] The chapter on sex offers an interesting comparison of
Augustine on food and Augustine on sex. The analogy involved is
roughly this: if food is necessary for nutrition, is it right to
consider it pleasurable apart from that purpose and, so with sex,
if it is for procreation can we consider it pleasurable apart from
that purpose? For Augustine the primary emphasis on food is
nutrition ("food as medicine") and as for sex Augustine is what
some might call a "procreationist." Meilander feels compelled to
modify Augustine on both the matter of food and the matter of sex.
Neither food as simply medicine nor sex as inextricably tied to
procreation pass the test. This is not a surprising conclusion and
one that is hardly contested in Christian ethics. However, it
provides Meilander with the opportunity to make an interesting case
for how the tandem of sex and procreation underlying the Roman
Catholic Church's ban on contraception (which he opposes) also
gives support to the use of in vitro fertilization (which he and
the Roman Catholic Church both oppose) by Augustine's split between
love and sex, tempting us to see a child as a product.
[7] When we consider the complex discussion of sexual ethics
going on in Christian circles today, this chapter might strike one
as a bit quaint or at least a bit narrow in scope. However, the
orientation to sexual ethics that emerges from this dialogue offers
the reader a clear path of inference on how one would respond to
other questions of sexual conduct so prominent in our day - at
least among those who are even asking questions. A signpost to that
path is given in this remark of homage to Augustine,
notwithstanding qualifications of his views on sex: "What he
did see, and what his emphasis on procreation might remind us also
to see, is that sexuality is more than a personally fulfilling
undertaking intended to make us happy and give us
pleasure…If in correcting or supplementing his views we lose
or ignore that insight, we may ourselves turn out to need
correction." (141)
[8] While some may with some justification see this last caveat
as simply a reminder of the author's conservative stance in these
matters, it is also a window his methodology. To "think with
Augustine" and other voices of Christian tradition is to recognize
that the past can speak to the present in their common hope for and
faith in the promised future. This is what Meilander calls an
"ecumenism of time." (170) It is a perspective to be applauded.
Theology is a cumulative enterprise of the church throughout time
and space under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. The theological
task as we relate to our dogmatic and theological heritage is to
discern how our forbears were faithful witnesses in their time so
that we may learn how to be faithful in our own time and in that
process to sharpen our understanding of what faithfulness entails
in all generations. I think that is a statement consistent with
Meilander's intent.
[9] There are many things one can say about this book. It
certainly offers a host of thoughts and insights relevant to
contemporary questions of theology, church, and ethics and how they
bear upon our understanding of the Christian life. There are
implicit and explicit ethical claims concerning today's questions,
some of which one might dispute. The book speaks of duty and
duties. In my mind, however, the gift that the book really gives is
a spirituality that both underlies and transcends all we might say
about the Christian life. It is a spirituality framed by two of the
most familiar lines from Augustine's Confessions, "our hearts are
restless until they can find rest in you" and "give what you
command and command what you will." It is a spirituality of realism
and hope punctuated by these thoughts from the chapter on Grief:
"…somehow we must learn the humility that loves the goods of
this life "in God," knowing that apart from that relation they
cannot truly be themselves. Tempted to despair, we struggle to
learn (only) to grieve. One cannot despair and simultaneously live
in hope, but pilgrims on the way to God, gradually coming to be
marked by the virtue of hope, ought to sorrow." (157) In the end as
Christians, with Augustine, we can only live the given life.
[1]
The following from Jospeh Sittler's essay, "The Mad Obedience
God Requires," seems resonant with Meilander's point: "Only the
absolute demand can sensitize human beings to occasions for ethical
work and energize them toward even relative achievements. And only
such a demand can deliver us, in these achievements, from
complacency and pride, prevent us from making an identification of
human justice with the justice of God….to live under the
absolute demand is the only way, given the human power of
dissimulation and self-deception, to keep life taut with need, open
to God's power, under judgment by his justice, indeterminately
dependent on his love, forgiveness and grace." Grace Notes and
Other Fragments, ed. Robert M. Herhold and Linda Marie Delloff
(Philadelphia: Fortress, 1981), 77-78.
© March 2008
Journal of Lutheran Ethics (JLE)
Volume 8, Issue 3