Diogenes' Quest

Paul starts his beautiful letter to the Phillipians with a greeting "To all the saints [holy ones] in Christ Jesus who are in Philippi . . ."

I read that rather than thinking of a saint or holy one in terms of "a destination to which a person of moral perfection arrived," Paul says, 'No, Sainthood is not a destination. It's a journey. You were called to be saints.' . . . [A saint is] a baptized person with a vocation." Karl Barth comments: "'Holy' people are unholy people, who nevertheless as such have been singled out, claimed and requisitioned by God for his control, for his use, for himself who is holy. Their holiness is and remains in Christ Jesus." Both from Dwelling With Phillipians, p.8.

I saw the 1973 movie Serpico yesterday, and it reminded me of this definition of holiness. Serpico is the true story of Frank Serpico, a NY City cop who refused to take bribes, refused to work corruptly in a corrupt "system." He was a "little guy" who tried to survive but wanted even more to live a morally correct life. It almost did cost him his life, but in the end his struggles helped clean up the corrupt NY police culture. (For more information about the movie, go here: Serpico.)

That a life of holiness (the only "meaningful" life) is not an "outcome," "not something realized only after history, time, and human experience have run their course," is a central idea of Levinas. He says that our "call" to holiness, involves a 'perpetual duty of vigilance and effort that can never slumber . . . the incessant watching over the other.'" In other words, the "call" to holiness comes, as Christ's call comes, not in the future, but now, and is lived now. Christ's coming, his call, "is a matter of living every moment of life in a certain way, with compassion and concern for others." From"Time, History, and Messianism," in The Cambridge Introduction to Emmanual Levinas, by Michael Morgan, p. 170.

The holy ones, the saints are found in the present, in the struggle despite setback to find righteousness, to help bring it about for others, to hear and try to respond to a calling nobler (greater, higher) than me, myself and I. When making the movie, Al Pacino asked Frank Serpico why he did what he did. He answered, "Well, Al, I don't know. I guess I would have to say it would be because ... if I didn't, who would I be when I listened to a piece of music?" This is our "call," our responsibility, and only here is meaning in life found. For more on Frank Serpico's life, click here.

So for me, Frank Serpico is a saint, a "holy one" like Thomas More, and others, who day by day choose to struggle to live a life of integrity in a world whose common denominator is low, where the m.o. is graft and compromise; a person who responds to an inner (transcendent) call to be just, to treat others right, not counting cost to himself. I commend his story and movie as an image of this calling, and a tribute to its importance for each of us and for our world.

If the Incarnation means anything, it is the ever re-birthing of the call of the perfect God to each of us to be part of a holy people, to be perfect as he is perfect, in Christ: ("Ye therefore shall be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect. "Mt. 5:48.) It is to be called and "claimed" by God, "set apart" like the prophets of old, to accomplish God's will. It is Jesus' "gentle yoke," his cross. And, judging from my own experience, it requires every particle of our ongoing attention to answer this call.

Listen to the lovely, elevating theme from Serpico, composed by Mikis Theodorakis

Listen to Same with shots from the movie.

Listen to "I'd love to Change the World" by Ten Years After with scenes from Serpico.

Listen to Mikis Theodorakis' "Adagio for Solo Flute"