On Friday, I learned that the City of Paris has a motto. 

You probably thought it was “The City of Lights,” just like New York is “The Big Apple” or Philly is “The City of Brotherly Love.” 

Trenton doesn’t necessarily have a motto.  I mean, they probably do, but it isn’t on anything that I could track down. 

However, they do have a slogan, which is “Trenton Makes, The World Takes.” 

You can see it from the train as you chug through. 

Truth be told, I find it sort of menacing.  

Which, if you think about it, is kind of a bold choice.  

Paris has lights…I guess New York has apples…and Trenton has …menace.  Ok.  

But back to mottos.  

Those seem to be a little more aspirational.  

The City of Boston has one which we Congregationalists can really get behind.  

Boston’s motto is “Sicut Patribus, Sit Deus Nobis,” which means, “God be with us as he was with our fathers.” 

Philadelphia’s is, “Caritas fraternitatis maneat in vobis,” which is from Paul’s Letter to the Hebrews and means, “Let brotherly love abide with you.” 

That’s another good one.

Anyway, on Friday, I learned that the motto of the City of Paris is, “Fluctuat nec mergitur,” which turns out to be rather poetic.  

It means, “She is tossed by the waves, but does not sink.” 

That’s nice, right?   

As you can imagine, during the Opening Ceremonies of the Olympics, which were held on the river in the middle of the pouring rain…I mean, this motto seemed especially a propos. 

And true enough, the Olympics did not sink, and neither did Paris. 

Good mottos remind us like that, don’t they? 

In just a few words, they remind us that, even in the midst of tossing waves, we won’t sink.  

That the city will make it.  That humanity will make it.  

Someone may hand you the Olympic flag, and you may be the person who raises it, only to learn that you’ve managed to raise it upside down in front of the entire world and in a way that will be preserved for the full course of digital time…don’t worry: the city will make it.

Humanity will make it.  

You may not keep your job, but you know what? 

You’re probably going to make it, too. 

At some point, it might become a funny story, even to you.  

As Christians, our scriptures give us ample occasions to reflect on these things. 

They are forever reminding us that the things that abide and the ones that pass away are not to be anticipated outside of the presence and purposes of God. 

Our stories are always telling us how so many of the things that seem permanent turn out not to be, while the most precarious and seemingly jury-rigged of solutions turn out to be the most durable, capable of withstanding the slings and arrows of fortune at their most outrageous. 

To many in the ancient world, our very notion of the one we called savior was ridiculous in just this way—he was like something out of those movies where some schlub gets put in charge of something important and ends up turning everything upside down.  

A jury-rigged savior at best.  

By contrast, the City of Rome’s motto, if you’re curious, was apparently “Roma Invicta,” or just “Invicta,” which meant “unconquered Rome.”

That one seemed like money in the bank.  

Here’s an example of an inscription from a government building in modern day Turkey, that we think dates from 6 BC: 

“the birthday of [Augustus] has been for the whole world the beginning of the gospel (euangelion) concerning him.”

It continues: 

The most divine Caesar . . . we should consider equal to the Beginning of all things . . . for when everything was falling (into disorder) and tending toward dissolution, he restored it once more and gave the whole world a new aura;  Caesar . . . the common good Fortune of all . . . The beginning of life and vitality . . . All the cities unanimously adopt the birthday of the divine Caesar as the new beginning of the year . . . Whereas the Providence which has regulated our whole existence . . . has brought our life to the climax of perfection in giving to us (the emperor) Augustus . . .who being sent to us and our descendants as Savior, has put an end to war and has set all things in order;  and (whereas,) having become (god) manifest /PHANEIS/, Caesar has fulfilled all the hopes of earlier times.^[1]

So when the Christians said no, no, it wasn’t Augustus, but rather their schlubby, jury-rigged nominee for savior of the world who was the one, that was a hard sell.  

When the Christians went on to say how their savior had told them that what abided was not Rome, not Jerusalem, not force of arms or efficiency of social control, but rather, God’s love, the Christian message became an even harder sell. 

Except it turned out to be true.  

It gave dignity to the downtrodden and hope to the hapless, teaching them to see the world as so much more than just this present moment, and as so much more than however things might appear.  

Because there was something more in them, the world held far more promise for them—and God was inviting to live into that infinitely richer way of being.  

We hear that this morning in Paul’s letter to the Ephesians.

He writes: “I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.” (Eph 3: 16-19)

The presence and purposes of God cannot be separated from His great love for us.

When he writes about power, this is the power that most interests him: the power of what love can do, both within us and through us.  

This, he suggests, is the source for what truly abides. 

It’s especially worth remembering in this moment when love seems to be in such short supply. 

But it’s also an important reminder, simply not to be quickly taken in by how things appear, forgetting that what truly matters is that vast world that lies below the surface—a world that constantly ends up revealing the strength of the apparent weakling and the wisdom of the supposed fool. 

Because that’s the world where the Holy is most alive, and the Kingdom of God is putting things right side up. 

The city will make it.  Humanity will make it.  And with God’s help, so will you and I.  

We may be tossed by the waves, but we will not sink. 

And as we learn to love ourselves and one another, we lay claim to the fullness God has wanted for us all along.  Amen. 

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^[1] https://nickcady.org/2019/01/09/the-gospel-of-caesar-augustus-what-it-tells-us-about-the-gospel-of-jesus-christ/#:~:text=The%20“gospel”%20of%20Caesar%20Augustus,for%20all%20people%20on%20Earth.