This lecture series gives a really good overview of Augustine (354-430) and digs into some of his philosophical arguments. We find a brilliant rhetorician and a rebel youth with a razor-sharp mind, not prone to accepting what he was told. Augustine happened to be born before the end of the Western Roman Empire, but not much before. With the simultaneous rise of Christianity, it was a fractious time of major flux that ended with his death as the Visigoths were sieging his hometown of Hippo. On a quest for meaning from the day he was born, we find Augustine aligned with Manichaeism, a belief steeped in the duality of good and evil—a spirit world good, the material world bad—as he argues with early church bishops to their faces. At the time there were many “Christianities” floating about, from those founded on the Gnostic Gospels—the earliest of which dates from around 60-140 A.D., commensurate with the canonical Gospel of John, 90-100 A.D.—to Arianism, affirmed by an Alexandrian member of the clergy by the name of Arius (256-336). Arius held that Jesus was the Son of God, thus came after God the Father in both time and “substance”—read that “godliness.” This was opposed by the Trinitarian doctrine of the Nicaean Creed, which defines one God in three divine persons: God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit. All three are distinct but the same God. Eventually, Augustine converted to Christianity when he was 32 in 386, 73 years after the Edict of Milan in 313 A.D., when Constantine made Christianity official. Augustine wrote so many books and treatises that it’s hard to count, as he laid out what Christians should and should not believe to become the primary church father among its scholars (incorporating Plato), with Aquinas second (incorporating Aristotle).
Among these writings is Augustine’s answer to the source of evil. With a bit of philosophical gymnastics, he says evil is an absence, not a presence of something. One analogy is a damaged garment. A tear that severs a piece of an otherwise perfectly good garment, thus creating a hole. This is an absence of the garment in a particular spot with the effect of corrupting it with degeneracy. But the hole is not a thing; it’s the absence of the thing that was there before. Augustine maintains that evil is like this: an absence of the good. Since the whole universe is God’s creation and God creates only good, evil is not something created and does not come from God. Evil is the absence of some piece of God’s creation.
While Augustine is steeped in Greek philosophy and sounds like it, he reveals himself here not to be a philosopher, but a theologian. Augustine has a preconceived destination to reach, not a terrain to explore. He asserts that God creates only good, which requires some psychological jujitsu to convince us that evil is not created but is instead a vacuum amongst the good. He does this for a reason.
Another analogy just as applicable is that evil is like pollution that enters the clean waters of a spring-fed stream. Evil is the presence of something that should not be there. This presence corrupts the cleanliness and refreshing nature of the stream, making it toxic to drink. Augustine has to steer clear of such analogies because not to opens God to blame for the creation of, in this example, pollution, making God the source of an evil in this world, and from that, the source of all evil. The reason Augustine tailors his arguments this way is because he well knows that the God he and the Church have defined needs protecting.
Augustine is also the source of “Original Sin” with “infant damnation,” per Professor Cary, in order “to have a club to beat the Pelagians,” who believed that “it was unjust to punish one person for the sins of another; therefore, infants are born blameless.” Augustine makes similar arguments for the nature of God using Plato’s forms, the uplifting emotion one feels when understanding abstractions like mathematics, and how this approximates the same feeling when connecting to God, which also falls philosophically flat. I came away finding Augustine a kindred spirit in his quest, but compromised by his dogma.