A tale of two cities and two lies: some thoughts on Las Vegas and D.C.

I honor the passing this morning of the great poet Stanley Kunitz, who has died at the age of 100.  I posted this fine piece of his last September on my Thursday Short Poem.

Lots and lots of comments below yesterday's post on name changes.  As I expected, more opprobrium than approbation.  Of course, all of us, myself included, filter a discussion of this topic of last names and marriage through our own experiences, beliefs, and fears.   Mentioning one's own choice (or the choice of one's spouse) is difficult to do without giving insult to those who have made different choices.  I'm heartened by the certainty that we're all on the same page in longing for egalitarian marriages, and confident that our heartfelt disagreements over what strategy is best will not stop us from reaching that goal.  Heck, it might even get us there quicker.

On a completely different subject, my wife and I have been doing a lot of traveling lately.  There's a lot of family stuff going on, some happy and some not-so-happy and most of it not for blogging.  But this past weekend, among other places, we were in Washington D.C. and Charlottesville, Virginia, visiting family and spending time with loved ones.

It was my wife's first visit to DC, and we did a "running tour" of the various memorials on the Mall.  It's my favorite way to see everything from the Capitol to the Lincoln Memorial and back -- in about an hour.   Someone ought to organize running tours of major cities for those of us who like to combine exercise with sight-seeing, and have short attention spans.  How about the Uffizi in twenty minutes?  Versailles in twenty-five?  I like to see things, acknowledge them, and move on.  I may have a Ph.D. in medieval history, but I'm also a shameless cultural philistine and an endorphin addict.  I really think this running tour thing could catch on.

Anyhow, the post:

During our run, I was reminded of how similar Washington D.C. and Las Vegas appear to me.  I've had the chance to visit these two American cities many times recently, especially since I gave my life to Christ several years ago.  It occurred to me (as it has probably occurred to others) that both cities embody particularly seductive lies about the world.

Whenever I visit DC, I'm moved.  I cry whenever I go to the Lincoln Memorial, and usually when I visit the Wall.  I'm awed as I walk (or jog) along the Mall past all of these extraordinary buildings and monuments, and I am usually quite effectively seduced by the notion that ours is a nation chosen by Providence to lead the world.  It is hard to be in DC and not become enamored of power!  The buildings, the monuments, the statues -- they all send a message that America is indeed a divinely chosen agent of universal justice and liberation.  A few hours in Washington, and I find myself growing much more patriotic and much less critical of my country.  I also, of course, find the very core of my Christian faith under attack.

The message I get from DC's magnificent architecture is one of raw secular power in the service of the Good.  Though there are nods to God in many inscriptions, there's little doubt that to visit Washington is to walk into the heart of what belongs to Caesar and not to Christ.  And Caesar's things are beautiful and fine!  I leave convinced, at least on an emotional level, that Lincoln was right -- that the USA, not faith in Christ, is the "last best hope for mankind".

As a Christian still influenced by the Mennonites and the Anabaptists, I've been taught to be suspicious of all nation-states and their claims to act on behalf of God and the greater Good.  I've come to believe that it is faith in Christ, not American hegemony, that will transform the world.  I don't say the pledge of allegiance any more because my allegiance is first and foremost to the cross -- and I'd be a fool to believe that I can always be fully loyal to two masters, Caesar and Christ.  And though we may not call him by that name any longer, the American president and those institutions that surround him are still very much, in a theological sense, Caesar. In the words of Stanley Hauerwas, we Christians are called to be "resident aliens" in whatever country we reside, remembering always that our primary allegiance is to the king of another kingdom.

But knowing and believing all this is sometimes of little use against the majestic seductions of Washington D.C.  And it's also of little use against the similar seduction of Las Vegas.  Where Washington's culture and architecture sends an unmistakable message about American power, Las Vegas seduces me with a message about my own personal pleasure.  The gambling, the sex, the alcohol, the brilliant visual displays -- they all have an effect on me.  I go to Vegas and I start to wonder if perhaps my faith has made me "too uptight."  Vegas asks me, "Hugo, what's wrong with a little fun?  You've worked so hard -- come and play!"  Vegas tells me that joy and physical pleasure are synonymous; I can "strike it rich", I can hire a woman to pleasure me, I can eat whatever I want wherever I want whenever I want.  (Mind you, I don't do these things -- but it's hard to be unaware of the forces urging me "give in".)  No rules, no limits, no consequences.  For however long I'm there, it's all about me and my needs.   And as the ads say, whatever shameful or self-destructive or sinful thing I do gets to "stay in Vegas".  It's a nice promise of pleasure without consequence!

As a Christian, I need to recognize that both Las Vegas and Washington are, in a very real sense, cities built on lies.  Las Vegas is built on the lie that the key to human happiness is money and temporary sensual pleasure.  Washington D.C. is built on the lie that secular power, wielded by a wise and just nation, is the great guarantor of that same human happiness.   It's no accident that Roman-inspired architecture is everywhere in both cities!  In the New Testament, we are invited again and again to consider whether our allegiance will be to Rome or to God, to Caesar or to Christ.  Caesar has many palaces, you see, and most of them are beautiful.  One is in Las Vegas and bears his name, but the White House and the Capitol are also his, even if they don't have his name in flashing lights. 

The consequences of believing the lie of Las Vegas?  The desecration of the natural environment of the desert, the shocking waste of water and other resources, the finances depleted by gambling addiction, the human relationships distorted by misused sexuality.  The consequences of believing the lie of Washington D.C?  A refusal to recognize that while the USA has at times been an agent of liberation, it has also brought tremendous suffering to many parts of the globe.  Real human freedom and joy do not come at the roulette table, and they can't be won by the 101st Airborne, either.  Real human happiness comes from something else, something far grander, and from someone who came to this world so humbly that should He return, He would surely be refused admission to any of Caesar's many palaces across this country.

I suppose I'll continue to visit both Washington and Las Vegas for the rest of my life for any number of reasons.  I'll enjoy myself while I'm there.  But I've got to remember just how easily I can be seduced into believing in the myths each of these cities seeks to perpetuate.  Caesar's things are beautiful, fine, compelling, and moving.  But they are, in the end, entirely of this world.

Comments

[SamChevre]

Arrgh. I was convinced that you had said you were going to be in C'ville, then looked and looked and couldn't find it. I live near Charlottesville, and am part of another wing of the Anabaptist tradition, so had hoped to meet you.

[Antigone]

I find it interesting that you don't say the pledge either.

I quit doing it in high school, but not out of any nod to my alligence to Christianity (I stopped saying the Christian pledge in high school as well, much to my parent's dismay).

I quit doing the pledge because I started realizing that it was so empty. If the country is good, I should have no problem being loyal to it: I don't need to pledge it. I also didn't like the "under god" snuck in there: I'm secular, I don't need to pretend to be a theist.

[Chip]

You've made some great, thought-provoking assessments in this post, Hugo. The next time that you're coming to the DC area and have the time to/want to grab some lunch, let me know.

Peace of Christ,
Chip

[Hugo]

Sam and Chip, I do make my way out there every year or two (lots of family in Albemarle County). I'll remember to get in touch.

[juan]

What a thought provoking post! Creative and challenging to say the least. I'm truly impressed by your remarkable clarity and inspiration. Whenever I tune into this site I always leave with something to ponder about.

[carlaviii]

Hm. When I visit Vegas, all I can see is their fingers trying to get into my wallet...

[Dave W.]

Doesn't the text of Lincoln's 2nd inaugural (at the Lincoln Memorial) serve in part as a counterpoint to the extolling of Caesar over Christ? Admittedly it is only one voice against the many embedded in the architecture, but it seems to me to embody a strong anti-triumphalism message, a sense of humility in the face of suffering and victory, and a reminder that God has God's own purposes that do not necessarily conform to the agenda of either side.

[Hugo]

The speech does do that, Dave - but the physical structure of the Memorial, with Lincoln seated like a Roman God, his sad and beautiful face gazing out at the Capitol, sends a different and ultimately stronger message.