National insecurity reinforces the mythic frame: We are God’s holy city on the hill and our manifest destiny is of covenantal proportions, even to the ends of the earth. But God is not an American. We are not his people. This is not the promised land. A Halo Sin Nation. Yet our fortune has been to live rather than to die if only for a season in Rome. And in this way a juxtaposition of gifted grace and assumed fate mark the making a hallucination.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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