Sometime in the second century A.D., a man named Diognetus pulled from his mailbox a letter he had been hoping to receive. We know nothing about the person Diognetus. We don’t even know where he received his mail. But we do have his name, and that’s more than we know about the letter’s author—there’s only one known copy of this letter, and the last page with the writer’s signature is missing.
Yet for all the mystery that surrounds this ancient correspondence, we can say two things for certain. First, Diognetus was anxious to understand the Christians that his community hated so much. And second, the letter’s author was the right person for Diognetus to ask:
Most excellent Diognetus, do not expect to be able to learn from any human the mystery of the Christian’s own religion.
For Christians are not distinguished from the rest of humanity by country, language, or custom; nowhere do they live in cities of their own, nor speak some unusual dialect, nor practice an eccentric way of life. Their teaching has not been discovered by the thought and reflection of ingenious people, nor do they promote any human doctrine. But while they live in both Greek and barbarian cities (as each one happens to do), and follow the local customs in dress and food and other aspects of life, at the same time they demonstrate the remarkable and unusual character of their own citizenship. They live in their own countries, but not as residents; they participate in everything as citizens, yet endure everything as foreigners. Every foreign country is their homeland, and every homeland is foreign.
They marry like everyone else and procreate, but they do not expose their children. They share their food but not their spouses. They are in the flesh, but they do not live according to the flesh. They live on earth, but their citizenship is in heaven. They obey the established laws—in fact, in their private lives they transcend the laws. They love everyone, and by everyone they are persecuted. They are unknown, yet they are condemned; they are put to death, yet they are brought to life. They are poor, yet they make many rich; they are in need of everything, yet they abound in everything. They are dishonored, yet they are glorified in their dishonor; they are slandered, yet they are vindicated. They are cursed, yet they bless; they are insulted, yet they offer respect. When they do good, they are punished as evildoers; when they are punished, they rejoice as though brought to life. They are assaulted as foreigners and persecuted, yet those who hate them are unable to give a reason for their hostility.
In a word, what the soul is to the body, Christians are to the world—
The soul dwells in the body but is not of the body; likewise, Christians dwell in the world but are not of the world. The flesh hates the soul and battles against it because the soul attempts to hinder the body from indulging all of its pleasures; so also the world hates Christians because they set themselves against its indulgence of evil delights. The soul loves the flesh that hates it, just as Christians love the world that hates them. The soul is locked up in the body, but keeps the body from complete decay; and though Christians are detained in the world as if in a prison, they in fact keep the world from utter decay. Such is the important position to which God has appointed Christians, and it is wrong for them to ever forsake it. (Diog. 5-6)
Jesus said it like this:
“You are the salt of the earth. If the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be restored? It is no longer good for anything other than throwing out to be trampled under people’s feet.
You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. People don’t light a lamp and put it under a basket. They place it on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” (Mt. 5.13-16)
Photo by *_Abhi_*.
Sun, Feb 22, 2009
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