A Restless Heart

Augustine. Perhaps you’ve heard of him. A saint of the Catholic Church, if you’ll recall. Namesake of a monastic order. Author of the first autobiography. Founder of a city in Florida.

Well, maybe not the founder but, again, the namesake.

Born in A.D. 354, baby Augustine was the third child of a pagan father and a Christian mother. Although poor, his parents recognized the intellectual giftedness of their son and did everything in their power to provide him with the finest education. Augustine’s intelligence didn’t keep him from rebelling, however, and he soon fell in with the wrong crowd. While reflecting upon his life, he later declares that he was “ashamed to be less shameless” than these friends.

I was applauded by those whom I then thought it my whole duty to please, for I did not perceive the gulf of infamy wherein I was cast away from Thy eyes.

By the time Augustine had reached adulthood, he had achieved the status of a master rhetorician and gained the applause of those whom he thought it was his “whole duty to please.” Still, he was restless and discontent. Looking back, he was also “far from Thy face in the dark shadows of passion.” After years of going astray and leading others astray, along with a few jaunts into Manichaeism and Neo-Platonism, Augustine came to a point where every book he read and every rhetorician he heard began slowly to point him towards Christianity. Cicero’s Hortensius pointed him to truth behind words and ideas. Bishop Ambrose of Milan (a fellow “Doctor”) pointed him to the truth of Christianity behind the eloquence of those words.

Finally, at age thirty-two, Augustine found himself reading Romans 13, a passage that became the turning point of his life. After years of roaming the broad road of the world in hopes of earthly success and pleasure, Augustine surrendered himself to the humble truth of Christianity.

Bishop Ambrose mentored him in the faith, and in 387, he was baptized. Four years later, in the style of his beloved mentor, he was reluctantly made bishop of Hippo. From his conversion until his death in AD 430, Augustine spent his life in the defense and advancement of Christianity. His literary output was immense, and with more than five million words from his pen, he out-wrote all other ancient authors. For this reason, I will only briefly mention one of his most famous works, his Confessions.

I continued to reflect upon these things, and Thou wast with me. I sighed, and Thou didst hear me. I vacillated, and Thou guidest me. I roamed the broad way of the world, and Thou didst not desert me.

Written much like a journal, Augustine’s Confessions recounts the course of his life through his conversion, in addition to a few chapters devoted to some of his key theological and social concerns. Throughout the work, he emphasizes the grace and goodness of God in his life in light of his rebelliousness and hard heart. Although a rhetorician trained in the art of eloquence, this work provides readers with an utterly real and open look at the contriteness of his heart and his struggles to accept Christianity. It is this work that makes him one of the most accessible and well-known of the ancient authors.

In the centuries after his death, his philosophical and theological works have maintained a significance on the level of Plato and Aristotle. His writings have percolated into the Christian church doctrines on sacraments, grace, original sin, and beyond.

Thou who dost teach us by sorrow, who woundest us to heal us, and dost kill us that we may not die apart from Thee.

But who cares? Yes, this man is admirable and intelligent, but he died more than 1,500 years before I was even born. Maybe he influenced things back then, but what does he matter right now in November of 2012? Here are just two ideas:

  1)  At the very least, Augustine provides us with an incredibly human connection to Christians of old. This man was no “saint.” His own pen shows us his vulnerability and frailness, and he gives modern Christians a glimpse into the universal and timeless struggles of the human will against its Creator. He lets us know that we are not alone.

      But is this okay? Many of us like and admire Augustine for being so human in his struggles. One of his most famous lines is his plea, “Grant me chastity and continence, but not yet.” Today, however, we hear of a pastor who struggles with certain temptations (never acting on them, mind you), and we find it appalling. Such spiritual leaders should not be tempted like ordinary Christians, right? Have the years distanced us so much that we are comfortable accepting Augustine’s struggles (perhaps because we saw the outcome?) while revolted by the struggles (again, not falls) of our present leaders?

  2) Augustine wrote and taught with Christ and His Word at the forefront of his mind. His defense of Christianity against Manichaeism and Pelagianism exemplify his earnest zeal for the guarding of the faith against those who would seek to twist the truth. After years of seeking to impress his peers by touting the academically acceptable ideas, he chose to forsake the popular for the sake of the eternal. He reminds us what it means to be not ashamed of the gospel. Am I willing to be set apart from popular opinion (socially, academically, politically) in order that God might be glorified? Are you?

For Thou hast made us for Thyself and restless is our heart until it comes to rest in Thee.