[This is part of a series on Thriving in the City.]
For a long time, a deadly fallacy controlled how many Christians thought about cities. Cities were viewed as dangerous places, full of vice and temptation. In contrast, the raw, unspoiled beauty of the countryside was seen as that bit closer to heaven.
In fact, this way of thinking has leached into popular culture also, so that when you imagine some future dystopia (as depicted in so many movies these days) it is usually a grimy urban hell that you picture. It's Sin City, or Gotham City, or The Capitol, or the seedy and bleak darkness of Blade Runner’s Los Angeles. (It often seems that the only truly good and beautiful cities exist in fantasy, such as Elrond’s Rivendell, or Odin’s Asgard.)
The Bible has a much more positive view of the city. It’s true that cities can be the focus of so much human evil (as in Sodom or Babylon). But then there is Zion, that place the saints weep for when they're by the rivers of Babylon (Psalm 137). It’s God’s city, and as such it reflects his goodness and fulfils our longings.
At the very beginning of the Bible, when God gives Adam and Eve their calling to exercise dominion on the Earth, he tells them to cultivate the creation. Not long after, we meet the descendants of Adam and Eve who begin to build cities, make instruments, and forge tools out of bronze and iron (Gen 4.17–22). In other words, culture is born. And so part of the way humans cultivate creation is by and en-culturing it through invention and advancement.
When I look at great cities, I don't only see the bad (and there is plenty of that). I also see humanity at its most advanced, expressing our God-given capacity to create culture in all its forms. The city is often the place where you will meet the best of music and art, food and drink, entrepreneurship and innovation. This is one aspect of God's image and creativity shining brightest in the city.
Christians have to start to think differently about cities. Instead of adopting an otherworldly and sometimes judgemental view of the city, as though all of human innovation is inherently wrong (it isn't!), we can instead begin to marvel.
And London is a marvel. Let me illustrate with my favourite example: food. The fact that you can try cuisine from distant Xinjiang in Camberwell, or the fermented bread of Ethiopia and Eritrea in Oval, and then finish off with a stroll to Covent Garden for some Italian gelato – these are things that should cause every believer to worship! London can inspire you to celebrate Jesus when you walk the Bermondsey-Beer-Mile, or dive into the best of Brixton’s jerk chicken. My point is not that we should ever make an idol of food (or art, or music, or science, or architecture, or whatever) but that all of this beauty and innovation can fire you up with anticipation for the heavenly Zion.
I'm convinced that the New Heavens and the New Earth will be a riot of human creativity; everything we love about places like London, but stripped of all the sleaze and greed and envy and idolatry. The best of human creativity will come to its ultimate fruition as expressions of worship to the Lord of Creation, and we will enjoy it together.
So, learn to walk through this urban jungle with new eyes, spotting the creations of your fellow man answering the call of his Maker. You may need to spend some money from time to time, but not as a guilty pleasure, but rather as a way of worshipping the ultimate Creator and Lord. Only then can you begin to enjoy what God has put in the city and do so without embarrassment, relishing his goodness on every street corner.