You stir man to take pleasure in praising you, because you have made us for yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.
Most high, utterly good, utterly powerful, most omnipotent, most merciful and most just, deeply hidden yet most intimately present, perfection of both beauty and strength, stable and incomprehensible, immutable and yet changing all things, never new, never old, making everything new and ‘leading’ the proud ‘to be old without their knowledge’ (Job 9: 5, Old Latin version); always active, always in repose, gathering to yourself but not in need, supporting and filling and protecting, creating and nurturing and bringing to maturity, searching even though to you nothing is lacking: you love without burning, you are jealous in a way that is free of anxiety, you ‘repent’ (Gen. 6: 6) without the pain of regret, you are wrathful and remain tranquil. You .will a change without any change in your design. You recover what you find, yet have never lost. Never in any need, you rejoice in your gains (Luke 15: 7); you are never avaricious, yet you require interest (Matt. 25: 27). We pay you more than you require so as to make you our debtor, yet who has anything which does not belong to you? (1 Cor. 4: 7). You pay off debts, though owing nothing to anyone; you cancel debts and incur no loss. But in these words what have I said, my God, my life, my holy sweetness? What has anyone achieved in words when he speaks about you? Yet woe to those who are silent about you because, though loquacious with verbosity, they have nothing to say.
The house of my soul is too small for you to come to it. May it be enlarged by you. It is in ruins: restore it.
For you were always with me, mercifully punishing me, touching with a bitter taste all my illicit pleasures. Your intention was that I should seek delights unspoilt by disgust and that, in my quest where I could achieve this, I should discover it to be in nothing except you Lord, nothing but you.
Pride imitates what is lofty; but you alone are God most high above all things.
When I hear this or that brother Christian, who is ignorant of these matters and thinks one thing the case when another is correct, with patience I contemplate the man expressing his opinion. I do not see it is any obstacle to him if perhaps he is ignorant of the position and nature of a physical creature, provided that he does not believe something unworthy of you, Lord, the Creator of all things (1 Macc. 1: 24). But it becomes an obstacle if he thinks his view of nature belongs to the very form of orthodox doctrine, and dares obstinately to affirm something he does not understand. But such an infirmity in the cradle of faith is sustained by mother charity, until the new man ‘grows up into a mature man and is no longer carried about by any wind of doctrine’ (Eph. 4: 13).
My ears were already satiated with this kind of talk, which did not seem better to me because more elegantly expressed. Fine style does not make something true, nor has a man a wise soul because he has a handsome face and well-chosen eloquence. They who had promised that he would be so good were not good judges. He seemed to them prudent and wise because he charmed them by the way he talked.
That ‘man of God’ (2 Kgs. 1: 9) received me like a father and expressed pleasure at my coming with a kindness most fitting in a bishop. I began to like him, at first indeed not as a teacher of the truth, for I had absolutely no confidence in your Church, but as a human being who was kind to me.
My belief in this was sometimes stronger, sometimes weaker. But at least I always retained belief both that you are and that you care for us, even if I did not know what to think about your substantial nature or what way would lead, or lead me back, to you.
The authority of the Bible seemed the more to be venerated and more worthy of a holy faith on the ground that it was open to everyone to read, while keeping the dignity of its secret meaning for a profounder interpretation.
Praise to you, glory to you, fount of mercies! As I became unhappier, you came closer
It was obvious to me that things which are liable to corruption are good. If they were the supreme goods, or if they were not good at all, they could not be corrupted. For if they were supreme goods, they would be incorruptible. If there were no good in them, there would be nothing capable of being corrupted. Corruption does harm and unless it diminishes the good, no harm would be done. Therefore either corruption does not harm, which cannot be the case, or (which is wholly certain) all things that are corrupted suffer privation of some good. If they were to be deprived of all good, they would not exist at all. If they were to exist and to be immune from corruption, they would be superior because they would be permanently incorruptible.
I inquired what wickedness is; and I did not find a substance but a perversity of will twisted away from the highest substance, you O God, towards inferior things, rejecting its own inner life (Ecclus. 10) and swelling with external matter.
The consequence of a distorted will is passion. By servitude to passion, habit is formed, and habit to which there is no resistance becomes necessity.
As I was saying this and weeping in the bitter agony of my heart, suddenly I heard a voice from the nearby house chanting as if it might be a boy or a girl (I do not know which), saying and repeating over and over again ‘Pick up and read, pick up and read.’ At once my countenance changed, and I began to think intently whether there might be some sort of children’s game in which such a chant is used. But I could not remember having heard of one. I checked the flood of tears and stood up. I interpreted it solely as a divine command to me to open the book and read the first chapter might find.
The examples given by your servants whom you had transformed from black to shining white and from death to life, crowded in upon my thoughts. They burnt away and destroyed my heavy sluggishness, preventing me from being dragged down to low things. They set me on fire with such force that every breath of opposition from any ‘deceitful tongue’ (Ps. 119: 2 f.) had the power not to dampen my zeal but to inflame it the more.
I trembled with fear and at the same time burned with hope and exultation at your mercy, Father (Ps. 30: 7–8).
At that time you tortured me with toothache, and when it became so bad that I lost the power to speak, it came into my heart to beg all my friends present to pray for me to you, God of health of both soul and body. I wrote this on a wax tablet and gave it to them to read. As soon as we fell on our knees in the spirit of supplication, the pain vanished. But what agony it was, and how instantly it disappeared! I admit I was terrified, ‘my Lord my God’ (Ps. 37: 23). I had experienced nothing like it in all my life.
When I am evil, making confession to you is simply to be displeased with myself. When I am good, making confession to you is simply to make no claim on my own behalf, for you, Lord, ‘confer blessing on the righteous’ (Ps. 5:13) but only after you have first ‘justified the ungodly’ (Rom. 4: 5).
But when I love you, what do I love? It is not physical beauty nor temporal glory nor the brightness of light dear to earthly eyes, nor the sweet melodies of all kinds of songs, nor the gentle odour of flowers and ointments and perfumes, nor manna or honey, nor limbs welcoming the embraces of the flesh; it is not these I love when I love my God. Yet there is a light I love, and a food, and a kind of embrace when I love my God—a light, voice, odour, food, embrace of my inner man, where my soul is floodlit by light which space cannot contain, where there is sound that time cannot seize, where there is a perfume which no breeze disperses, where there is a taste for food no amount of eating can lessen, and where there is a bond of union that no satiety can part. That is what I love when I love my God.
I have met with many people who wished to deceive, none who wished to be deceived. . . . They love the truth because they have no wish to be deceived, and when they love the happy life (which is none other than joy grounded in truth) they are unquestionably loving the truth.
But why is it that ‘truth engenders hatred’? Why does your man who preaches what is true become to them an enemy (Gal. 4: 16) when they love the happy life which is simply joy grounded on truth? The answer must be this: their love for truth takes the form that they love something else and want this object of their love to be the truth; and because they do not wish to be deceived, they do not wish to be persuaded that they are mistaken. And so they hate the truth for the sake of the object which they love instead of the truth. They love truth for the light it sheds, but hate it when it shows them up as being wrong (John 3: 20; 5: 35). Because they do not wish to be deceived but wish to deceive, they love truth when it shows itself to them but hate it when its evidence goes against them. Retribution will come to them on this principle: those who resist being refuted the truth will make manifest against their will, and yet to them it will not be manifest. Yes indeed: the human mind, so blind and languid, shamefully and dishonourably wishes to hide, and yet does not wish anything to be concealed from itself.
Late have I loved you, beauty so old and so new: late have I loved you. And see, you were within and I was in the external world and sought you there, and in my unlovely state I plunged into those lovely created things which you made. You were with me, and I was not with you.
Although health is the reason for eating and drinking, a dangerous pleasantness joins itself to the process like a companion. Many a time it tries to take first place, so that I am doing for pleasure what I profess or wish to do only for health’s sake. They do not have the same measure: for what is enough for health is too little for pleasure. . . . It is not the impurity of food I fear but that of uncontrolled desire.
Thus I fluctuate between the danger of pleasure and the experience of the beneficent effect, and I am more led to put forward the opinion (not as an irrevocable view) that the custom of singing in Church is to be approved, so that through the delights of the ear the weaker mind may rise up towards the devotion of worship.
The present considering the past is the memory, the present considering the present is immediate awareness, the present considering the future is expectation. . . . So it is in you, my mind, that I measure periods of time. . . . But how does this future, which does not yet exist, diminish or become consumed? Or how does the past, which now has no being, grow, unless there are three processes in the mind which in this is the active agent? For the mind expects and attends and remembers, so that what it expects passes through what has its attention to what it remembers.
The only thing that is not from you is what has no existence. The movement of the will away from you, who are, is movement towards that which has less being.
It is one thing to inquire into the truth about the origin of the creation. It is another to ask what understanding of the words on the part of a reader and hearer was intended by Moses, a distinguished servant of your faith. In the first category I will not be associated with all those who think they know things but are actually wrong. In the second category I will have nothing to do with all those who think Moses could have said anything untrue.
[F]or your truth does not belong to me nor to anyone else, but to us all whom you call to share it as a public possession. With terrifying words you warn against regarding it as a private possession, or we may lose it (Matt. 25: 14–30). Anyone who claims for his own property what you offer for all to enjoy, and wishes to have exclusive rights to what belongs to everyone, is driven from the common truth to his own private ideas, that is from truth to a lie. For ‘he who speaks a lie’ speaks ‘from his own’ (John 8: 44).
If any among them comes to scorn the humble style of biblical language and in proud weakness pushes himself outside the nest in which he was raised, he will fall, poor wretch.
The haughtiness of pride, the pleasure of lust, and the poison of curiosity (1 John 2: 16) are the passions of a dead soul. The soul’s death does not end all movement. Its ‘death’ comes about as it departs from the fount of life, so that it is absorbed by the transitory world and conformed to it.
A gift is the object given by the person who is sharing in these necessaries such as money, food, drink, clothing, a roof, assistance generally. Fruit, however, is the good and right will of the giver. (Augustine, Confessions)
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you. (Philippians 4:8-9)It wouldn't be too long ago that Augustine's thoughts would have been characterized as "counting the number of angels that could fit on the end of a pin"-sort of pondering to me. It wasn't so much that I thought he was unintelligent, but just out-dated and irrelevant. I actually thought, What could this guy know about the life I lead? What could he know about anything really important?
I have to admit that I still didn't find Confessions enjoyable by and large. I felt bogged down in a number of places and confused in other ones. I wondered, What is he trying to get at?
I decided to come to Augustine with more openness than before. His Confessions are recognized widely as "great." Furthermore, I was given them to read as an assignment (at least part of them). I thought I would try to find what I could in his writing.
I found that Augustine had a deep love for God. His yearning after God is often quoted. "Restless until I find rest in you," "my God, my life, my holy sweetness," "late have I loved you, beauty so old and so new" are a few phrases that show that Augustine was anything but stilted and merely ritualistic in his faith. He longed after God with a love that is seldom seen.
I found that Augustine pondered God and his ways deeply. He was not able to merely accept things without wrestling with them first. His conversion experience spanned more than a decade as he struggled to come to God and escape from the world and his own desires. He understood how difficult it can be to come to God when he wrote: "The consequence of a distorted will is passion. By servitude to passion, habit is formed, and habit to which there is no resistance becomes necessity." At the same time he saw how faithful God is and how easily he could come to him: "Praise to you, glory to you, fount of mercies! As I became unhappier, you came closer." His struggle was real and within each part of him, from desires to intellect, from personal relationships to public image. Augustine captured so much of the struggle to coming to God.
I found in Augustine's questions, both before and after his conversion to Christ, relentless integrity. He so much wants to bring ideas together with God and his life. These are not empty questions as I first assumed, but things that really troubled and excited him. He saw it rightly when he began his Confessions with this thought: "What has anyone achieved in words when he speaks about you? Yet woe to those who are silent about you because, though loquacious with verbosity, they have nothing to say." Although he may not understand much, there is great joy in knowing even a little about God and his ways.
Perhaps most importantly, I found in Augustine a person like myself. The events that led up to his conversion were so real to me. He was exposed to The Life of St. Anthony through a chance meeting with an Egyptian Christian. He wondered if what happened to Anthony could happen to him. And it did! Through the Bible, God also spoke to Augustine. God also gave him a friend to journey with into his new-found belief. The story is so beautiful in its reality. I could see myself as Augustine and with him.
The breadth and depth of a relationship with God in Christ transcends place as I find other people from other places who share the wonder of following Jesus. In Augustine, I see that it also transcends time. Through his writings, I can "join together in following [the] example" of those who hunger for Christ. Such experiences expand my experience and love for God, who continues to embrace so many different people even through the ages.
Lord, I am grateful for your servant Augustine. He shared about you from his heart. He questioned you deeply with his mind. He gave so much in service to you through his body. May I learn from him and be encouraged by his example and his teaching. Amen.
I look forward to reading Confessions again a bit more slowly with the goal of walking with a dear brother in Christ. I hope I will learn how to hear him "in love" as he would want me to.
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