I have told you what men preeminent alike in philosophy and eloquence have thought of the majesty and government of the most high God. Moreover, I have cited the noblest masters of both these supreme arts expressly to facilitate my proof that all others have either agreed, or, if they have disagreed, have done so without any authority. And, in fact, I can find none who have differed from this judgment, except for the delirious ravings of the Epicureans and certain of their imitators. These last have associated God with carelessness and sloth, just as they have linked pleasure with virtue — so it appears that those who entertain this idea are likely to follow the vices of the Epicureans along with their opinion and doctrine.
I do not think that we need also use the divine word to prove so obvious a case, especially since the sacred writings furnish such abundant and open refutation of all the claims of ungodly men that, in meeting those of their vile charges which follow, we shall be able to refute more fully those already mentioned. They say that God neglects us entirely, since he neither restrains the wicked nor protects the good, and therefore in this world the condition of the better men is substantially the worse. They contrast the poverty of good men with the wealth of the wicked, their weakness with the strength of the wicked, their constant grief with the others’ perpetual joy, their misery and mean estate with the honors and prosperity of sinners.
I wish at the outset to ask those who mourn this state of affairs, or base their accusations on it, this one question: is their grief for the saints, that is, the true and faithful Christians, or for the false impostors? If for the false, it is a needless grief that mourns for the unhappiness of the wicked, since, to be sure, all evil men are made worse by success in their undertakings, and rejoice at the lucky turn of their folly. Yet they ought to be most wretched in order that they may cease to be wicked, that they may cease to apply the name of religion to their most evil gains and to bestow the title of sanctity on their sordid traffickings; in such a case, indeed, a comparison of the misfortunes of sinners with their misdeeds shows that they are less unfortunate than they deserve, for the utmost misfortunes they can suffer leave them still less wretched than they are wicked. It is foolish to grieve for their lack of wealth and happiness. Far less should we lament in the case of the saints, for however unhappy they may seem to men who do not understand their condition, it is impossible for them to be otherwise than happy. Moreover, it is superfluous to think them wretched because of sickness or poverty or any like misfortune, in the midst of which they count themselves happy; for no man is wretched because of other men’s judgment, but only in his own.
So those who are truly happy in their own estimation cannot be unhappy through the false conception of any man; for none, I think, are more fortunate than those who live and act according to their own determination and vows. Religious men are lowly — they wish to be so; poor — they delight in poverty; without ambition — they spurn it; unesteemed — they flee from honors; they mourn — but they seek out occasion for mourning; they are weak — nay, they rejoice in weakness. For the apostle said, “When I am weak, then am I strong.” Nor was this opinion held undeservedly by the man to whom God himself spoke thus: “My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” — Book I.
Corwin Smidt, a college professor from Michigan, writes in Religion and Nationalism – a Reflection from Hungary:
When language, nationality, religion, and state are basically the embodiment of different facets of the same underlying sociological entity, it is difficult to discern just where culture, religion, nationalism, and loyalty to the state begin and end. This linkage of national identity, language, and religion has important consequences. Probably two of the most basic, and firmly rooted, identities that can be forged in human beings are one’s religious and national identities.
Sometimes, these identities begin to overlap to such an extent that the two become linked together—” making it is difficult to separate them without some serious, and concerted, effort to do so. This is particularly the case when, embedded in one’s particular culture, one seeks to discern just where one’s fundamental loyalties lay —” whether to one’s nation or to one’s religious faith. This is difficult enough in the American context, but when culture and language get added to the mix, it becomes even more difficult.
As he walks through different ecclesiastical models he ponders the intersection between culture, nationalism, and religion. In the Christian context that intersection can be problematic, as he points out, but it can also be fruitful.
I would love to see the professor do a comparative between his experiences and insights from Hungary and Bishop Hodur’s writing on this very subject.
In short, I think Bishop Hodur took a far more anthropological view of nations and religion, with nations as a tool in God’s hands. Each nation and culture has specific gifts and insights which add to the totality of Christian experience. Religion cannot espouse the dissolution of national and cultural boundaries as its goal — a sort of straw man argument for those who define everything in terms of separation, but must focus itself on the transcendent nature of God. God speaks to every nation and draws no distinction between Jew or Greek, slave or free (Galatians 3:28) — using each to declare His name (Acts 17:26-28).
And he made from one every nation of men to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their habitation,
that they should seek God, in the hope that they might feel after him and find him. Yet he is not far from each one of us,
for `In him we live and move and have our being’; as even some of your poets have said, `For we are indeed his offspring.’
Personally I understand it this way: Our gifts are particular. Our faith is transcendent. In Him we are all one body.