ARKCODEX
Confessions
Chapter 1. He, Now Given to Divine Things, and Yet Entangled by the Lusts of Love, Consults Simplicianus in Reference to the Renewing of His Mind.
My God, I remember you with thanksgiving. I confess your mercies upon me. Let my bones be drenched with your love. Let them say:"Lord, who is like you? You have broken my chains. I will offer you the sacrifice of praise."I will tell how you broke them. All who worship you will hear these things and say: Blessed is the Lord in heaven and on earth. Great and wonderful is his name. Your words had taken hold in my heart. You surrounded me on every side. I was certain of your eternal life. I had seen it in a riddle and as through a mirror. Yet all doubt about the incorruptible substance had been taken from me. Every substance comes from that substance. I did not want to be more certain about you. I wanted to be more stable in you. Everything about my temporal life was wavering. My heart needed cleansing from the old leaven. The Savior himself pleased me as the way. Yet I was still reluctant to go through his narrow path. You put it into my mind. It seemed good to me to go to Simplicianus. He appeared to me as your good servant. Your grace shone in him. I had heard that from his youth he lived most devotedly for you. By then he had grown old. Through his long life of earnestly following your way, he had experienced much. He had learned much. This seemed true to me. It was truly so. I wanted him to speak from this experience. I would share my struggles with him. He could tell me the right way for someone like me to walk in your path.
I could see that the Church was full. Some people went one way and others went another way. But I was unhappy with what I was doing in the world. It had become a heavy burden to me. The desires for honor and money no longer burned in me as they used to. Without those desires I could not bear such crushing slavery. Those worldly things no longer pleased me compared to your sweetness and the beauty of your house that I loved. But I was still tightly bound by my attachment to a woman. The Apostle did not forbid me to marry. But he encouraged something better. He especially wanted all men to be as he was. But I was weaker and chose the softer path. Because of this one thing I was sluggish in everything else. I was wasting away with anxious cares. I was forced to accept other things I didn't want to suffer because they went with married life. I was devoted to marriage and bound by it. I had heard from the mouth of Truth that there are those who made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. But he said"Let him accept this who can accept it."Certainly all men are vain who do not have knowledge of God. They could not find him who truly exists even from the good things they see. But I was no longer caught in that vanity. I had moved beyond it. With all your creation as witness I had found you our creator. I had found your Word who is God with you. Together with you he is one God through whom you created all things. But there is another kind of ungodly person. They know God but do not glorify him as God or give thanks. I had fallen into this trap too. But your right hand caught me. You took me from there and placed me where I could recover. For you said to man"Behold reverence is wisdom."And"Do not try to appear wise."Because"claiming to be wise they became fools."I had already found the precious pearl. It should have been bought by selling everything I had. But I hesitated.
Chapter 2. The Pious Old Man Rejoices that He Read Plato and the Scriptures, and Tells Him of the Rhetorician Victorinus Having Been Converted to the Faith Through the Reading of the Sacred Books.
I went to Simplicianus, who was like a father to Bishop Ambrose in receiving your grace. Ambrose truly loved him as a father. I told him about my wandering path of error. When I mentioned that I had read certain books of the Platonists, which Victorinus had once translated into Latin—Victorinus who had been a rhetoric teacher in Rome and whom I had heard died as a Christian—Simplicianus congratulated me. He was glad I had not fallen into the writings of other philosophers. Those writings are full of deceptions and lies according to the elements of this world. But in these Platonic books, God and his Word are suggested in every possible way. Then, to encourage me toward the humility of Christ—which is hidden from the wise but revealed to little children—he recalled Victorinus himself. Simplicianus had known him very intimately when he was in Rome. He told me a story about Victorinus that I will not keep silent. This story brings great praise to your grace that must be confessed to you. Here was this most learned old man. He was expert in all the liberal arts. He had read and evaluated the works of so many philosophers. He was teacher to many noble senators. Because of his outstanding and brilliant teaching—which the citizens of this world consider exceptional—he had earned and received a statue in the Roman forum. Up to that advanced age, he had been a worshiper of idols. He participated in their sacred rites—which were really sacrilege. Almost all the Roman nobility was puffed up with these rites and breathed them into the people. They worshiped monsters of gods of every kind. They worshiped Anubis the barking god. These were the very gods that had once held weapons against Neptune and Venus and against Minerva. Now Rome was praying to these gods she had once conquered. For so many years, old Victorinus had defended all this with his thundering voice. Yet he was not ashamed to become a child of your Christ. He became an infant at your fountain. He bowed his neck to the yoke of humility. He subdued his forehead to the shame of the cross.
O Lord, Lord, you bent the heavens and came down. You touched the mountains and they smoked. How did you work your way into that heart? He read holy Scripture as Simplicianus tells us. He investigated and examined all Christian writings with the greatest eagerness. He said to Simplicianus privately and intimately, not openly:"Know that I am already a Christian."Simplicianus replied:"I will not believe it or count you among Christians unless I see you in Christ's church."The man mocked him saying:"Do walls make Christians then?"He often said this—that he was already a Christian. Simplicianus often gave that same response. The man often repeated his mockery about walls. He feared offending his proud demon-worshipping friends. He thought they would bring down terrible hatred upon him from the heights of their Babylonian dignity. It would be like the cedars of Lebanon that the Lord had not yet broken crashing down on him. But later through reading and eager study he drank in strength. He feared being denied by Christ before the holy angels if he feared confessing Christ before men. He appeared guilty to himself of a great crime. He was ashamed of the sacraments of your Word's humility while not being ashamed of the sacred blasphemies of proud demons that he had received as a proud imitator. He lost his shame for vanity and became ashamed before truth. Suddenly and unexpectedly he said to Simplicianus, as Simplicianus himself told it:"Let us go to church. I want to become a Christian."Simplicianus could not contain his joy and went with him. After he was instructed in the first sacraments, not long after he also gave his name to be reborn through baptism. Rome marveled. The Church rejoiced. The proud saw and were angry. They gnashed their teeth and wasted away. But the Lord God was your servant's hope. He did not look to vanities and lying madness.
Finally, when the time came for declaring faith—which is usually done at Rome by those about to receive your grace, using set words memorized and recited from an elevated place before the faithful people—the priests offered Victorinus the option to make his declaration privately. This was the custom for some who seemed likely to falter from embarrassment. But he chose to profess his salvation before the holy congregation. The salvation he was declaring was not like the rhetoric he had taught, yet he had taught that publicly. How much less should he fear your gentle flock when proclaiming your word, when he had not feared crowds of madmen with his own words? When he climbed up to make his declaration, everyone who knew him began shouting his name in joyful celebration. Who there did not know him? The sound rang out in hushed tones from the mouths of all who rejoiced together:"Victorinus! Victorinus!"They quickly erupted in celebration because they saw him. They quickly fell silent with attention so they could hear him. He proclaimed the true faith with brilliant confidence. They all wanted to snatch him into their hearts. They were snatching him through loving and rejoicing. These were the hands that seized him.
Chapter 3. That God and the Angels Rejoice More on the Return of One Sinner Than of Many Just Persons.
Good God, what happens in human nature that makes us rejoice more over the salvation of a soul we thought was lost forever than if that soul had never been in danger at all? You yourself, merciful Father, rejoice more over one person who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who need no repentance. We hear with tremendous joy about the shepherd carrying home the lost sheep on his triumphant shoulders. We celebrate when the lost coin returns to your treasury while the woman's neighbors share her happiness. Tears of joy flow at your house's celebration when we read in your house about your younger son:"He was dead and came back to life. He was lost and has been found."You rejoice in us and in your angels through holy love made holy. You remain forever the same because you know all things in the same eternal way, even though those things themselves are not always the same or constant.
What happens in the soul when it finds greater delight in discovering or recovering beloved things than if it had always possessed them? All other experiences bear witness to this truth. Everything is full of evidence crying out that this is so. The victorious commander celebrates his triumph. He would not have won if he had not fought. The greater the danger was in battle, the greater his joy is in triumph. A storm tosses sailors about and threatens shipwreck. Everyone grows pale at the prospect of death. Then the sky and sea grow calm. They rejoice exceedingly because they feared exceedingly. A dear friend falls ill. His pulse brings bad news. All who want him safe become sick at heart together. He recovers and has not yet regained his former strength. Yet already there is such joy as never existed when he once walked healthy and strong. Men acquire these very pleasures of human life not only through unexpected troubles that strike against their will. They gain them through troubles they deliberately seek for pleasure's sake. There is no pleasure in eating and drinking unless the discomfort of hunger and thirst comes first. Drunkards eat certain salty foods to create a burning discomfort. When drinking extinguishes this burning, it becomes a delight. Custom dictates that betrothed brides should not be given in marriage immediately. Otherwise the husband would value less what was given to him than what the groom had longed for while it was delayed.
This happens in shameful and cursed joy. This happens in joy that is permitted and lawful. This happens in the purest honesty of friendship. This happens in one who was dead and came back to life, who was lost and has been found. Everywhere greater joy follows greater distress. What does this mean, Lord my God, when you are eternal joy to yourself, and certain things around you always rejoice in you? What does this mean, that this part of creation alternates between loss and gain, between conflicts and reconciliations? Is this their nature? Is this all you have given them, when from the highest heavens to the depths of earth, from the beginning to the end of ages, from angel to worm, from first motion to last, you have placed all kinds of good things and all your righteous works each in their proper places, and you govern each in their proper times? Woe is me, how high you are in the heights, and how deep in the depths! You never depart from us, yet we barely return to you.
Chapter 4. He Shows by the Example of Victorinus that There is More Joy in the Conversion of Nobles.
Come now, Lord, act. Stir us up and call us back. Set us on fire and carry us away. Strike us and then be sweet to us. Now let us love and run. Many people return to you from the deeper hell of blindness than Victorinus knew. They approach you and are enlightened. They receive the light. Those who receive it gain from you the power to become your children. But if they are less known to the crowds, even those who know them rejoice less about them. When joy is shared with many people, the joy in each person becomes richer. They kindle each other and burst into flame from one another. Besides, those who are known to many become authorities for salvation to many. They lead the way for many who will follow. That is why those who went before them also rejoice greatly about such people. They do not rejoice about them alone. Far be it that in your tent the persons of the rich should be received before the poor, or nobles before the lowborn. Instead you chose the weak things of the world to confound the strong. You chose the lowborn things of this world and the despised things. You chose the things that are not, as though they were, so that you might bring to nothing the things that are. Yet that same least of your apostles spoke your words through his tongue. Through his warfare Paul the proconsul was conquered. His pride was defeated. He was sent under the gentle yoke of your Christ. He became a provincial officer of the great king. He also loved to be called Paul instead of his former name Saul because of the badge of so great a victory. An enemy is conquered more completely in someone he holds more tightly. He holds more people through that person. Pride holds the proud more tightly through the reputation of nobility. Through them it holds more people through the reputation of authority. Therefore the more gratefully was Victorinus' heart considered. The devil had held it like an unconquerable fortress. The more gratefully was Victorinus' tongue considered. With it as a great sharp weapon he had destroyed many people. All the more abundantly should your children exult. Our King bound the strong man. They saw his vessels snatched away and cleansed. They saw them fitted for your honor and made useful to the Lord for every good work.
Chapter 5. Of the Causes Which Alienate Us from God.
When your man Simplicianus told me this story about Victorinus, I burned to follow his example. That was exactly why he had told it to me. Then he added something more. During Emperor Julian's reign, a law was passed forbidding Christians to teach literature and rhetoric. Victorinus embraced that law. He chose to abandon his talkative school rather than abandon your word, by which you make the tongues of infants eloquent. He seemed to me not so much brave as blessed, because he found an opportunity to devote himself entirely to you. I longed for the same thing, but I was bound. My chains were not made of someone else's iron but of my own iron will. The enemy held my desire captive and had made a chain from it to bind me tight. A twisted will had become lust. Serving that lust had become habit. Failing to resist that habit had become necessity. These links connected to each other like chain links—that's why I called it a chain—and hard slavery held me bound. A new will had begun within me to worship you freely and to desire to enjoy you, God, as my only certain joy. But this new will was not yet strong enough to overcome the old will, which had grown strong through long practice. So my two wills fought against each other—one old, one new, one fleshly, one spiritual. Through their conflict they tore my soul apart.
This is how I came to understand through my own experience what I had read about the flesh warring against the spirit and the spirit against the flesh. I was caught in both battles. But I identified more with what I approved in myself than with what I disapproved. In the latter case, it was no longer really me acting. I was suffering these things against my will rather than doing them willingly. Yet habit had grown stronger against me because I had willingly arrived where I no longer wanted to be. Who could rightfully object when just punishment follows the sinner? I could no longer use that old excuse I had relied on before. I used to tell myself I wasn't yet serving you by rejecting the world because my grasp of truth remained uncertain. But now truth itself was certain. Yet I still remained bound to earth and refused to fight for you. I feared being freed from all my burdens as much as one should fear being burdened by them.
The burden of this world pressed down on me sweetly, like sleep tends to do. My thoughts about you were like the efforts of people who want to wake up but are overwhelmed by deep drowsiness and sink back under. No one wants to sleep forever. Everyone with sound judgment knows that staying awake is better. Yet most people put off shaking off sleep when heavy sluggishness fills their limbs. They cling to sleep willingly even when they dislike it and know it's time to get up. I was certain that giving myself to your love was better than yielding to my desires. But your love merely pleased me and won my approval. My desires delighted me and conquered me. I had no answer when you said to me,"Wake up, you who sleep. Rise from the dead. Christ will give you light."When you showed me from every direction that you spoke the truth, I had absolutely nothing to reply once truth had convicted me. I could only offer slow and sleepy words:"Soon, yes soon. Just let me wait a little longer."But"soon"and"soon"had no end."Just a little longer"stretched on and on. It was useless that I delighted in your law in my inner being when another law in my body fought against the law of my mind. It made me captive under the law of sin that was in my body. The law of sin is the violent force of habit. It drags and holds the soul even against its will because the soul deserves this for willingly falling into sin in the first place. Who could free wretched me from this body of death except your grace through Jesus Christ our Lord?
Chapter 6. Pontitianus' Account of Antony, the Founder of Monachism, and of Some Who Imitated Him.
I will tell you how you freed me from two chains. The first was my burning desire for physical pleasure that held me so tightly. The second was my slavery to worldly business. I will tell this story and praise your name, Lord, my helper and redeemer. I continued my usual activities. My anxiety grew stronger each day. Every day I sighed to you. I attended your church as much as I could when free from the business that made me groan under its weight. Alypius was with me. He had no work as a legal expert after his third term as assessor. He waited to see to whom he might again sell his counsel, just as I sold my teaching ability, if any can truly be provided through teaching. Our friend Nebridius had yielded to friendship. He served as assistant teacher to Verecundus, who was dearest to all of us. Verecundus was a citizen of Milan and a grammarian. He intensely desired and demanded by right of friendship faithful help from our circle. He desperately needed this assistance. Desire for profit did not draw Nebridius there. He could have earned more if he had chosen to work with literature. But as our sweetest and gentlest friend, he would not refuse our request out of duty and kindness. He handled this very wisely. He avoided becoming known to people of high standing in this world. He stayed away from all mental disturbance among them. He wanted to keep his mind free and at leisure for as many hours as possible. He used this time to search for wisdom, to read about it, or to hear about it.
One day I don't recall why Nebridius was away. Then a fellow citizen of ours named Pontitianus came to visit Alypius and me at home. He was an African like us who held high office at court. I don't know what he wanted from us. We sat down to talk. By chance he noticed a book lying on the gaming table in front of us. He picked it up and opened it. He found the writings of the apostle Paul inside. This clearly surprised him because he had expected to find one of those books whose teaching was wearing me down. Then he smiled and looked at me with congratulatory wonder that he had suddenly discovered these writings and these alone before my eyes. He was a Christian and a faithful man who often prostrated himself before you our God in church with frequent and lengthy prayers. When I told him that I devoted the greatest care to those Scriptures, a conversation began. He started telling us about Anthony the Egyptian monk whose name shone brilliantly among your servants. But this name had remained hidden from us until that very hour. When he discovered our ignorance, he lingered on this topic. He kept introducing this great man to us who knew nothing about him. He marveled at our very ignorance. We were amazed as we listened to your wonders so fresh in memory and so well attested in our own times through the true faith and the Catholic Church. We all marveled. We marveled because these deeds were so great. He marveled because they were unheard of to us.
Then his conversation turned to the flocks of monasteries. He spoke of the habits of your sweet fragrance. He described the deserted breasts of the wilderness. We knew nothing of these things. There was a monastery in Milan full of good brothers. It stood outside the city walls under Ambrose as their nurturer. We did not know of it. He continued speaking at length while we listened intently in silence. At some point he happened to tell us about himself and three other companions at Trier. The Emperor was occupied with the afternoon circus games. They had gone out to walk in gardens adjoining the walls. They wandered about as chance led them. One walked apart with him. The other two likewise went off separately together. But those wandering ones burst into a certain house. Some of your servants lived there. They were poor in spirit, of whom is the kingdom of heaven. They found there a book in which was written the life of Anthony. One of them began to read it. He marveled and was inflamed. While reading he began to consider seizing such a life. He thought of leaving worldly military service to serve you. They were among those called Agents in Affairs. Then suddenly filled with holy love and sober shame, he cast angry eyes upon his friend. He said to him:"Tell me, I beg you, where do we aim to arrive with all these labors of ours? What do we seek? For what cause do we serve as soldiers? Can our hope in the palace be greater than to become friends of the Emperor? And there what is not fragile and full of dangers? Through how many dangers does one reach the greater danger? And when will that be? But a friend of God, if I wish it, behold I become one now."He said this. Turbulent with the birth-pangs of new life, he returned his eyes to the pages. He read and was changed within where you could see. His mind was stripped of the world, as soon appeared. For while he read and turned over the waves of his heart, he groaned at times. He discerned and decided upon better things. Now already yours, he said to his friend:"I have already broken myself away from that hope of ours. I have resolved to serve God. From this hour, in this place, I begin. If you are reluctant to imitate me, do not oppose me."The other replied that he would cling as a partner to such reward and such military service. Both now yours, they built a tower with suitable cost of leaving all their possessions and following you. Then Pontitianus and his companion, who had been walking through other parts of the garden seeking them, came to the same place. Finding them, they reminded them to return since the day was already declining. But those two related their decision and purpose. They explained how such a will had arisen and been established in them. They asked that the others not trouble them if they refused to join them. The others were not changed at all from their former state. Yet as he said, they wept for themselves. They piously congratulated those two. They commended themselves to their prayers. Dragging their hearts on earth, they departed to the palace. But those others, fixing their hearts on heaven, remained in the house. Both had fiancées. When these women later heard this news, they too dedicated their virginity to you.
Chapter 7. He Deplores His Wretchedness, that Having Been Born Thirty-Two Years, He Had Not Yet Found Out the Truth.
Pontitianus was telling this story. But you, Lord, were using his words to turn me back toward myself. You were lifting me away from my own back where I had placed myself while refusing to pay attention to myself. You were setting me before my own face so that I might see how ugly I was. How twisted and filthy I was. How stained and diseased I was. I saw it all. I was horrified. There was nowhere I could flee from myself. When I tried to turn my gaze away from myself, he kept telling his story. You kept placing me opposite myself again. You kept forcing me into my own eyes so that I would discover my wickedness and hate it. I had known it all along. But I had been pretending otherwise. I had been holding it back. I had been forgetting it.
Then indeed, the more ardently I loved those people I heard about who had healthy spiritual dispositions and who had given themselves completely to you for healing, the more I hated myself in comparison to them with unspeakable loathing. Many years of mine had flowed away with me—perhaps twelve years since my nineteenth year of age when I had been stirred to the pursuit of wisdom by reading Cicero's Hortensius. I kept postponing my commitment to search for wisdom by scorning earthly happiness. Even the mere seeking of wisdom should have been preferred over discovered treasures and kingdoms of nations and over bodily pleasures flowing around me at my beck and call. But I was a wretched young man—utterly wretched. At the very beginning of my youth I had even asked you for chastity. I had said:"Give me chastity and self-control, but not yet."I was afraid that you might hear me quickly and quickly heal me from the disease of lust. I preferred that lust be satisfied rather than extinguished. I had walked along crooked paths in sacrilegious superstition. I was not exactly confident in it. But I seemed to prefer it over other things which I did not seek piously but attacked with hostility.
I had thought I was putting off the decision day after day because I had given up hope in worldly things and wanted to follow you alone. This was because nothing certain appeared to me that could direct my path. But the day had come when I stood naked before myself. My conscience rebuked me harshly."Where is your eloquence? You kept saying you didn't want to throw off the burden of vanity because the truth was uncertain. Look, now it is certain, and that burden still weighs you down. Others are receiving wings on shoulders more free than yours. They haven't worn themselves out with such searching. They haven't spent ten years and more pondering these things."So I gnawed at myself inwardly. I was thrown into terrible confusion by horrible shame while Pontitianus spoke these things. When his speech was finished and the business that brought him was done, he left. I turned to myself. What did I not say to myself? With what lashes of judgment did I not whip my soul so it would follow me as I tried to go after you? It resisted. It refused. It offered no excuse. All arguments were exhausted and proven wrong. Only silent trembling remained. Like death itself, my soul dreaded being cut off from the flow of habit by which it was wasting away into death.
Chapter 8. The Conversation with Alypius Being Ended, He Retires to the Garden, Whither His Friend Follows Him.
Then in that great struggle of my inner house, which I had violently stirred up with my soul in the bedroom of my heart, disturbed in both face and mind, I rushed to Alypius. I cried out:"What are we suffering? What is this? What did you hear? The unlearned rise up and seize heaven. And we with our learning but without heart - look where we roll around in flesh and blood! Are we ashamed to follow because they went first? Are we not ashamed that we don't even follow at all?"I said other things like this. My passion tore me away from him while he sat silent and stunned, staring at me. I didn't sound like myself. My forehead, cheeks, eyes, color, and tone of voice spoke more to my soul than the words I was uttering. There was a small garden belonging to our lodging. We had use of it just like the whole house. The master of the house didn't live there as our host. The tumult of my heart had carried me there. No one would interrupt the burning dispute I had begun with myself. It would continue until it reached the outcome that you knew, God, but I did not. I was only going mad in a healthy way. I was dying in a life-giving way. I knew what evil I was. I didn't know what good I was about to become shortly. So I withdrew into the garden. Alypius followed step by step. My privacy wasn't really private when he was present. But when would he desert me when I was in such a state? We sat as far as we could from the buildings. I was raging in spirit with the most turbulent indignation. I was not entering into agreement and covenant with you, my God. All my bones were crying out that I should go there. They were lifting up praises to heaven. The journey there required no ships or chariots or feet - not even as much as I had already traveled from the house to where we were sitting. To go there and actually arrive required nothing more than willing to go. But it required willing strongly and completely. It could not be done with a half-wounded will that tosses and turns this way and that. One part rises up while another part falls down struggling.
In those very moments of hesitation, I was doing so many things with my body. These are things that people sometimes want to do but cannot. They fail when they lack the limbs themselves. They fail when their limbs are bound with chains. They fail when their limbs are weakened by illness. They fail when their limbs are somehow impeded. I tore at my hair because I wanted to. I struck my forehead because I wanted to. I clasped my knee with interlocked fingers because I wanted to. I did these things because I willed them. I could have willed them and not done them if my limbs had refused to obey. So I did many things where willing was not the same as being able. Yet I did not do the one thing that pleased me with incomparable longing. I could have done it the moment I truly willed it. The moment I truly willed it, I would certainly will it completely. In that realm, ability was the same as will. The very act of willing was already the doing. And yet it was not happening. My body obeyed even the faintest wish of my soul. My limbs moved at the slightest signal. But my soul would not obey itself. It would not fulfill its own great desire through will alone.
Chapter 9. That the Mind Commands the Mind, But It Wills Not Entirely.
Where does this monster come from? And why does it exist? Let your mercy shine. Let me ask if perhaps the hidden places of human punishment can answer me. Let me ask if the darkest crushing of Adam's children can respond. Where does this monster come from? And why does it exist? The mind commands the body and it obeys immediately. The mind commands itself and meets resistance. The mind commands the hand to move. The ease is so great that you can barely tell the command from the obedience. The mind is mind. But the hand is body. The mind commands that the mind should will something. It is not different from itself. Yet it does not accomplish this. Where does this monster come from? And why does it exist? I say it commands itself to will. It would not command unless it willed. And yet what it commands does not happen. But it does not will completely. Therefore it does not command completely. It commands only as much as it wills. What it commands fails to happen only as much as it does not will. The will commands that there should be will. Not some other will but itself. Therefore it does not command fully. That is why what it commands does not exist. If it were full it would not command itself to exist because it would already exist. Therefore it is not monstrous to will partly and refuse partly. This is sickness of the soul. The soul does not rise up completely. Truth lifts it up. Habit weighs it down. And so there are two wills. Neither one of them is complete. What is present in one is lacking in the other.
Chapter 10. He Refutes the Opinion of the Manichæans as to Two Kinds of Minds — One Good and the Other Evil.
Let them perish from your face, O God, just as the empty talkers and deceivers of the mind perish. When they notice two wills in deliberation, they claim there are two natures of two minds. One good, the other evil. They themselves are truly evil when they believe these evil things. Yet these same people will be good if they grasp the truth and consent to truth. Then your Apostle will say to them:"You were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord."While they want to be light, they seek it not in the Lord but in themselves. They think the soul's nature is the same as what God is. Thus they have become denser darkness. They have withdrawn further from you in horrible arrogance. They have withdrawn from you, the true light that illuminates every person coming into this world. Pay attention to what you say and be ashamed. Draw near to him and be illuminated, and your faces will not be ashamed. When I was deliberating whether to serve the Lord my God at last, as I had long planned, I was the one who wanted it. I was the one who did not want it. I was myself. I. I did not want it completely, nor did I reject it completely. Therefore I struggled with myself and was torn apart from myself. This very tearing happened against my will. Yet it did not reveal the nature of an alien mind but the punishment of my own. Therefore I was no longer the one working it. Rather, it was sin dwelling in me from the penalty of a more freely chosen sin. I was a son of Adam.
If there are as many opposing natures as there are conflicting desires, then there will be more than two natures. There will be many. Suppose someone debates whether to go to their gathering or to the theater. These people cry out that there are two natures at work. One nature is good and draws him one way. The other nature is evil and pulls him back the other way. But where does this hesitation between opposing desires come from? I say that both desires are evil. The desire that draws him to their group is evil. The desire that pulls him toward the theater is also evil. But they refuse to believe this. They insist that only the desire leading to their group is good. Now suppose one of our people debates within himself. Suppose he wavers between two conflicting desires about whether to go to the theater or to our church. Won't these same critics find themselves wavering about how to respond? Either they must admit what they don't want to admit. They must confess that the desire to attend our church is good. This is the same desire that motivates those who have received our sacraments and remain committed to them. Or else they must believe that two evil natures conflict within one person. They must accept that two evil minds battle in a single individual. Then their usual teaching falls apart. They can no longer claim that one nature is good and the other evil. Or they must turn toward the truth. They must stop denying that when anyone deliberates, one soul burns with conflicting desires.
So let them stop saying this when they feel two wills fighting against each other in one person. They claim two opposing minds from two opposing substances and two opposing principles are battling. One good and one evil. But you are the God of truth and you disapprove of them. You refute them and prove them wrong. Consider when both wills are evil. A person deliberates whether to kill a man with poison or with a sword. Whether to invade this estate or that one when he cannot do both. Whether to buy pleasure through luxury or save money through greed. Whether to go to the circus or the theater when both are showing on the same day. I add a third option. Whether to steal from someone's house if the opportunity arises. I add a fourth. Whether to commit adultery if that chance also opens up at the same time. Suppose all these opportunities converge at one moment. All are desired equally but cannot all be done at once. These four wills tear the soul apart as they fight against each other. Or even more wills when there are so many desirable things available. Yet these people do not usually speak of such a multitude of different substances. The same applies to good wills. I ask them this. Is it good to delight in reading the Apostle? Is it good to delight in a reverent psalm? Is it good to discuss the Gospel? They will answer yes to each one. Good. But what if all these things delight us equally at the same time? Do not different wills stretch the human heart while we deliberate what we should choose first? All of them are good. They compete with each other until one is chosen. Then the whole will moves toward that one choice instead of being divided among many. The same thing happens when eternity delights us from above while the pleasure of temporal good holds us back from below. It is the same soul not willing this or that with its whole will. Therefore it is torn apart with grievous distress. Truth makes it prefer one thing but familiarity prevents it from abandoning the other.
Chapter 11. In What Manner the Spirit Struggled with the Flesh, that It Might Be Freed from the Bondage of Vanity.
I was sick with suffering and tormented myself. I accused myself more bitterly than ever before. I twisted and turned in my chains until they might break completely. I was held by only a thin thread now. But I was still held. You pressed upon me in my hidden depths, Lord. Your mercy was severe. You doubled the lashes of fear and shame. You did this so I would not give up again. You did this so that thin and fragile thread would not break. Otherwise it would grow strong again. It would bind me more tightly than before. I kept saying to myself:"Let it happen now. Let it happen now."With those words I was already moving toward the decision. I almost did it. But I did not do it. Yet I did not slide back to where I was before. I stood close by and caught my breath. Again I tried. I was a little closer to that place. I was a little closer still. Soon I would reach it and grasp it. But I was not there. I did not reach it. I did not grasp it. I hesitated to die to death and live to life. The worse path had grown familiar and was stronger in me than the better path that was unfamiliar. That very moment when I would become someone else drew nearer. The closer it came, the greater horror it struck into me. But it did not drive me back or turn me away. It left me hanging.
My old friends held me back. These were trifles of trifles and vanities of vanities. They tugged at my fleshly garment and whispered beneath their breath."Are you dismissing us? From this moment on we will never be with you again for all eternity. From this moment on you will never again be allowed to do this and that for all eternity."What filthy things they suggested in that phrase"this and that."My God, may your mercy turn such suggestions away from your servant's soul. What sordid things they suggested. What shameful things. But now I heard them much less than half as clearly. They no longer contradicted me freely by meeting me head-on. Instead they muttered behind my back. As I walked away they tugged at me secretly like thieves, trying to make me look back. Still they slowed me down as I hesitated to tear myself away from them. I struggled to shake them off and leap toward the place where I was being called. Meanwhile violent habit kept saying to me,"Do you think you can live without these things?"
But now he was saying this quite halfheartedly. From the direction where I had turned my face, the very place I trembled to cross, chaste Continence opened herself to view. She was serene and cheerfully bright without being dissolute. She beckoned me honestly to come without hesitation. She stretched out devout hands toward me to receive and embrace me. Her hands were full of crowds of good examples. There were so many boys and girls. There was abundant youth of every age. There were dignified widows and aged virgins. In all of them Continence herself was by no means barren. She was a fruitful mother of children—joys born from you as husband, O Lord. She mocked me with encouraging mockery. It was as if she said:"Can you not do what these men and women have done? Do these men and women have power in themselves rather than in the Lord their God? The Lord their God gave me to them. Why do you stand on yourself instead of standing firm? Cast yourself upon him. Do not fear. He will not withdraw himself and let you fall. Cast yourself confidently. He will catch you and heal you."I blushed deeply because I still heard the murmurings of those trifles. I hung there hesitating. Again she spoke as if saying:"Make yourself deaf against those unclean members of yours upon the earth so they may be put to death.
They tell you about their pleasures, but not like the law of the Lord your God. This battle raged in my heart. It was only about myself against myself. Alypius stayed close beside me. He waited silently to see how my strange turmoil would end. Deep reflection drew up all my misery from the secret depths. It gathered everything together before my heart's eyes. A great storm arose. It brought a mighty downpour of tears. I needed to pour it all out with its proper sounds. So I got up and left Alypius. Solitude seemed better suited for the business of weeping. I withdrew far enough that even his presence could not burden me. That's how I was then. He sensed something. I think I had said something that revealed the sound of my voice already heavy with weeping. That's how I had gotten up. So he remained where we had been sitting. He was utterly amazed. I threw myself down somehow under a fig tree. I gave free rein to my tears. Rivers poured from my eyes as an acceptable sacrifice to you. I spoke many words to you in this spirit, though not in these exact words:"And you, Lord, how long? How long, Lord, will you be angry to the end? Do not remember our ancient sins."I felt myself held captive by them. I cried out in misery."How long? How long? Tomorrow and tomorrow? Why not now? Why not this very hour an end to my shame?"I said these things and wept with the most bitter crushing of my heart. Then I heard a voice from a nearby house. Someone was singing and repeating over and over, like a boy or girl, I don't know:"Take up and read. Take up and read."My expression changed at once. I began thinking very intently whether children usually chanted something like that in any kind of game. I could not remember ever hearing such a thing anywhere. I stopped the flood of tears and got up. I interpreted this as nothing other than a divine command to open the book and read whatever chapter I first found. I had heard about Anthony. He was warned by a gospel reading that he happened to come upon. It was as if what was being read was spoken directly to him:"Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor. You will have treasure in heaven. Then come and follow me."By such an oracle he was immediately converted to you. So I hurried back to the place where Alypius was sitting. I had placed the book of the Apostle there when I got up from that spot. I seized it. I opened it. I read silently the chapter where my eyes first fell:"Not in reveling and drunkenness. Not in sexual immorality and sensuality. Not in quarreling and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ. Make no provision for the flesh to gratify its desires."I had no wish to read further. There was no need. As soon as I finished this sentence, it was as if a light of confidence poured into my heart. All the darkness of doubt fled away. Then I inserted my finger or some other mark and closed the book. With a calm face now I told Alypius what had happened. He showed me what was going on in himself, which I did not know. He asked to see what I had read. I showed him. He looked even beyond what I had read. I did not know what came next. What followed was:"Welcome the one who is weak in faith."He applied this to himself and told me about it. He was strengthened by this warning. With good and fitting resolve that perfectly matched his character, he joined me without any turbulent hesitation. His character had already long surpassed mine by a great distance. From there we went in to mother. We told her. She rejoiced. We explained how it had happened. She exulted and triumphed. She blessed you,"who are able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think."She saw that you had granted her so much more concerning me than she used to ask for with her pitiful and tearful groans. You converted me to yourself so that I would seek neither wife nor any hope of this world. I stood firm in that rule of faith in which you had revealed me to her so many years before."You turned her mourning into joy"much more abundant than she had wanted. It was much dearer and purer than what she had sought from the grandchildren of my flesh.