Catholic Thought discussion

“Augustine joins a Gnostic religious sect then in vogue, Manichaeism. Their founder was a Persian mystic, Mani (d. A.D. 276), whose cosmic dualism taught that all of reality was the unfortunate mixture of a good god and a malicious god eternally at war. Such a dualistic worldview not only provided an easy answer to Augustine’s nagging question why there was evil in the world, but it also excused his “real” self from sinning, as wrongdoing and destruction were simply inescapable realities.” (Introduction in my edition)

Before he goes on and explores how wrong his world-view was during this time, he tells us of the girl that had captured his heart and with whom he was living at the time. “(2) This experience taught me at first hand what a difference there is between marriage contracted for the purpose of founding a family, and a relationship of love charged with carnal desire in which children may be born even against the parents’ wishes – though once they are born one cannot help loving them.” I found the footnotes in my edition revealing:

”It was not uncommon for a young man in the Roman Empire to take a concubine as Augustine has; in fact, as it tended to foster (at least temporary) fidelity, it was a respectable alternative for those who were disallowed from marrying under Roman law. Since legal customs prevented slaves from marrying as well as a man and a woman from different social classes, Augustine’s matrona here was possibly a freed slave or servant woman. Every evidence we have points to how much he must have loved her, and he chooses to save her reputation by never naming her. We simply know that they met in Carthage probably in the year 371, (view spoiler)[ together had one son, Adeodatus (372-389), who died early, and that they separated after seventeen years together (Conf. VI.15.25). Pious legend has her leaving Augustine to life a life of Christian consecration and seclusion, but, in truth, we do not know whatever became of her.” (hide spoiler)]

There is much to ponder here.

Augustine is back in Thagaste to continue his teaching career. While there, he reconnects with an old friend. The two share a deep bond of friendship and then tragedy strikes, the friend becomes gravely ill and dies. Deathbed baptisms were common then, and Augustine is shocked his friend consented to this. Afterwards he is plunged into a deep and prolonged period of grief. He moves back to Carthage and slowly reconnects with the life he had there.

Augustine starts to ponder beauty and the transient nature of created things. “(15) Yet were these beautiful things not from you, none would be at all. They arise and sink; in their rising they begin to exist and glow toward their perfection, but once perfect they grow old and perish.”
“(20) Do we love anything save what is beautiful? And what is beautiful then? Indeed, what is beauty? Surely if beauty and loveliness of form were not present in them, they could not possibly appeal to us.”

The book ends when he reads Aristotle’s Categories, which despite his over-confident attitude at the time, he admits he didn’t fully grasp, being still stuck in the Manichean dualist mindset. “(29) I mistakenly attempted to understand even you, my God, in terms of them, you who are wonderfully simple and changeless, imagining that you were the subject of your greatness and beauty, and that those attributes inhered in you as in their subject, as they might in material things.

I thought the passage on his friend's passing was very moving and really well written, paragraphs 4.3.7-9. I quoted it for my blog but here is how it was translated in my edition.

It was during those years, when I had first begun to teach in my home town, that I made a friendship. My friend shared in my studies, and was very dear to me; we were contemporaries, both blooming in the flower of youth. He had grown up with me as a boy; we had been to school together, and played together. But at that time he was not such a friend of mine—although not even at that time I am speaking of was he a friend in the true sense, for it is only true friendship when you glue together those who cleave to you by diffusing your love in our hearts through the Holy Spirit (Rom 5.5), which you have given us. Nevertheless, it was indeed a sweet friendship, fired in the heart of our shared studies. While he was still a schoolboy, I had turned him away from true faith, which by reason of his years he did not cling to truly or with any depth, and towards the superstitious and pernicious tales which made my mother weep for me. Now, as a man, he strayed in spirit with me, and my soul could not be without him. And behold, you stood over the backs of these fugitives from you, O God of vengeance (Ps. 94.1 [Ps. 93.1]) and fount of mercy alike, who turn who turn us again to you (Ps. 51.15 [Ps. 50.15]) in wondrous ways; and behold, when he had reached manhood you took him from this life, when he had been my friend for barely a year—a friendship sweeter to me than all the sweetness of my life, as it then was.

Who can alone tell all your praises (Ps. 106.2 [Ps. 105.2]), all the works of yours that he has known in himself alone? What did you do then for me, my God, and how unsearchable are the depths of your judgements (Ps. 36.6 [Ps. 35.7]; cf Rom. 11.13)? My friend fell ill with a fever, and for a long time lay unconscious in a mortal sweating fit. When those around him had abandoned hope of his recovery, he was baptized without his knowing. I was indifferent to this, confident that his soul would retain what he had learnt from me, not what was done to his body without his knowing. But the truth was far different. My friend rallied and recovered, and as soon as I could talk to him—and that was not long, no longer than it took for him to be able to talk to me, since I would not leave his side, and we were inseparable from one another—I tried to tease him about it, thinking that he would join me in laughing at a baptism he had received while wholly unconscious and insensible. He, however, had learnt beforehand of the baptism he had received, and shrank from me as if from an enemy. In a remarkable and sudden burst of plain speaking he warned me that if I wanted to be his friend, I would have to stop talking to him like that. For my part, I was astonished and upset at this, and put all my own feelings on one side until he had recovered and had regained full vigour of health; then, I thought, I would be able to deal with him as I wished. But he was rescued from my madness, so that in you he might be reserved for my consolation; a few days later, when I was away, the fever struck again, and he died.

What pain darkened my heart! (Lam. 5.17). All that I saw was death. My home town was a torment to me, my home strangely cursed; all the things I had shared with him were, without him, transformed into grievous tortures. My eyes looked expectantly for him everywhere, but he was denied to their sight. I hated everything, because it did not contain him; nor could anything now say to me, ‘Look, he is coming,’ as they could when he had been absent during his life. I became the object of my own investigation, and asked my soul repeatedly why it was sorrowful, and why did it trouble me so deeply; and it did not know what to say in return. And if I said, Hope in God (Ps. 42.05, 11, Ps. 43.5 [Ps. 41.6, 12, Ps. 42.5]), it would not obey, and rightly; for the friend I had lost, though a man, a thing more real and better than the illusion in which I bade my soul trust. Weeping alone was sweet to me, and took the place of my friend among the pleasure of my mind.
-Translation and quote identification by Philip Burton from the Everyman’s Library edition, p. 69-70.

I don't know if the Burton translation is more accurate or not, but in this case I felt that he captured it better stylistically than both the Pusey, Outler, and Pilkington translations online. How does your translation compare?

The Boulding translation is just as beautiful. The wording is a little different, but I don't see anything that I would have missed either way.

I love his metaphor on debating complex truths without having a proper foundation is like finding a pile of armor and putting is on wrong and blaming the manufacturer. I forgot to highlight the part but that's what my brain is remembering.

Kenneth wrote: "I love his metaphor on debating complex truths without having a proper foundation is like finding a pile of armor and putting is on wrong and blaming the manufacturer. I forgot to highlight the par..."

Ooh, I don't remember that. That is a great metaphor. What paragraph is that in?

Yes, I don't remember the metaphor either. I'd love to re-read this part.

It’s actually from book 3 page 33 Pusey translation. Here you go:

“As if in an armory, one ignorant of what were adapted to each part should cover his head with greaves, or seek to be shod with a helmet, and complain that they fitted not.”

The reason for the metaphor is more for his understand of morals and when morals are different:

“Even such are they who are fretted to hear something to have been lawful for righteous men formerly, which now is not; or that God, for certain temporal respects, commanded them one thing, and these another, obeying both the same righteousness.”

I found it, it's in paragraph 13.

”It was not uncommon for a young man in the Roman Empire to take a concubine as Augustine has; in fact, as it tended to foster (at least temporary) fidelity, it was a respectable alternative for those who were disallowed from marrying under Roman law. Since legal customs prevented slaves from marrying as well as a man and a woman from different social classes,"

The social norms and laws of Augustine's time is something we no longer have in these stark contrasts. Yet we still tend to form relationships and marry within our own socio-economic setting. In the ancient world, as our priest recently commented in a homily, there was no equality. The class you were born into is what you were. The concepts of equality and justice as we are so familiar with, both rooted in Judeo-Christian thought, took a long, long time to develop.

So Augustine and his girlfriend were really stuck, they couldn't get married. Though I hesitate to romanticise the situation. They were both products of their time, and knew that their liaison would ultimately be temporary.

Kerstin wrote: "”It was not uncommon for a young man in the Roman Empire to take a concubine as Augustine has; in fact, as it tended to foster (at least temporary) fidelity, it was a respectable alternative for th...

The social norms and laws of Augustine's time is something we no longer have in these stark contrasts. "

Don't we? Haven't we returned to live together couples? I'm not sure what the difference is.

Manny wrote: "Don't we? Haven't we returned to live together couples? I'm not sure what the difference is."

I was referring to the prohibitions of marrying outside of your own social class, not being able to marry a person who is a servant or a slave. Hypothetically speaking, would Augustine have married his girl if he had had the liberty to do so? We don't know the answer to this, but in his writings he never eschewed marriage per se.

That’s true Manny. While it might be easier for some to live in sin, everyone has a conscience and knows right from wrong despite the social norms. Natural law is written in the hearts of all men and still exists in pagan lands even if it’s more difficult to practice there.

As St. Augustine said, “Right is right even if no one is doing it; wrong is wrong even if everyone is doing it.”

Oh I see what you’re saying Kerstin. lol I misunderstood sorry.

I misunderstood as well. Thanks.

Note to self, be more clear in future :)

I think he would have married her in those days, if they married for love. That's another complexity to this. Love was not necessarily a reason for marriage. They had a child together and I'm estimating they stayed together well over ten years. Maybe over fifteen years. Actually with all the sex Augustine supposedly desired, I'm surprised they only had one child.