Confessions by St. Augustine & Henry Chadwick

Author:St. Augustine & Henry Chadwick [Augustine, St. & Chadwick, Henry]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Classics, Religion, Christianity, Catholicism, Patristics
ISBN: 9780192833723
Publisher: Oxford University Press
Published: 1992-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

BOOK IX

Cassiciacum: to Monica’s death

i (1) ‘O Lord, I am your servant, I am your servant and the son of your handmaid. You have snapped my chains. I will sacrifice to you the offering of praise’ (Ps. 115: 16–17). Let my heart praise you and my tongue, and ‘let all my bones say, Lord who is like you?’ (Ps. 34: 10). Let them speak, answer me, and say to my soul ‘I am your salvation’ (Ps. 34: 3).

Who am I and what am I? What was not evil in my deeds or, if not deeds, in my words or, if not words, in my intention? But you, Lord, ‘are good and merciful’ (Ps. 102: 8). Your right hand had regard to the depth of my dead condition, and from the bottom of my heart had drawn out a trough of corruption. The nub of the problem was to reject my own will and to desire yours. But where through so many years was my freedom of will? From what deep and hidden recess was it called out in a moment? Thereby I submitted my neck to your easy yoke and my shoulders to your light burden (Matt. 11: 30), O Christ Jesus ‘my helper and redeemer’ (Ps. 18: 15). Suddenly it had become sweet to me to be without the sweets of folly. What I once feared to lose was now a delight to dismiss. You turned them out and entered to take their place, pleasanter than any pleasure but not to flesh and blood, brighter than all light yet more inward than any secret recess, higher than any honour but not to those who think themselves sublime. Already my mind was free of‘the biting cares’1 of place-seeking, of desire for gain, of wallowing in self-indulgence, of scratching the itch of lust. And I was now talking with you, Lord my God, my radiance, my wealth, and my salvation.

ii (2) I made a decision ‘in your sight’ (Ps. 18: 15) not to break off teaching with an abrupt renunciation, but quiedy to retire from my post as a salesman of words in the markets of rhetoric. I did not wish my pupils, who were giving their minds not to your law (Ps. 118: 70) nor to your peace, but to frenzied lies and lawcourt squabbles, to buy from my mouth weapons for their madness. Fortunately there were only a few days left before the Vintage Vacation [22 August–15 October]. I decided to put up with them so that I could resign with due formality. Redeemed by you, I was not now going to return to putting my skills up for sale. Our plan was formed with your knowledge but was not publicly known, except to our intimate circle. It was agreed among us that it was not to be published generally. Meanwhile, to us who were climbing out of the ‘valley of tears’ (Ps. 83: 6 f.) and singing a ‘song of steps’ (Ps. 119–33), vou had given ‘sharp arrows and destroying coals’ to answer any deceitful tongues of criticism (Ps.

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