Confessions by Augustine of HippoMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
A couple years ago, I dipped into James K. A. Smith’s book Desiring the Kingdom. I’ve still never finished that book, but portions of it ignited in me an appreciation for Augustine.
Smith helped me internalize the Augustinian (and I believe Biblical) concept that that human beings are not primarily driven by their thoughts, but by their loves. We’re not thinkers as much as we are lovers. This concept has affected the way I live my life, including the way I teach, the way I parent, the way I interact with my wife, and the way I spend time with God. In each of these areas, we are called not just to “do our duty,” but to do what we do from a heart of love. It is a command to “delight yourself in the Lord.” Augustine understood this truth.
I’ve also started to realize in the last year and a half that C. S. Lewis owes a lot to Augustine. I think Augustine’s influence on Lewis shows up especially in The Four Loves, The Great Divorce, and Till We Have Faces. These books are Augustinian in that they show that our souls are formed by what we (choose to) love.
So finally, I’ve gotten through books 1-9 of The Confessions. (I didn't read books 10-12, which are completely philosophical.) I started this book fifteen years ago, but never got through the first book or two. This time I took my time to read deeply and soak in the story.
The book starts slowly, and it has a few philosophical digressions that can make it plodding at times. Also, Augustine wrestles with ancient religious controversies that are hard for a reader in 2013 to connect with.
But overall, I found this to be a wonderful story of God’s redemption. Augustine was a very successful teacher of rhetoric who spurned Christianity. But over time, God chipped away at both his intellectual objections to Christianity and his immoral lifestyle that was keeping him from repenting. Eventually, in a home in Milan, Augustine came to Christ.
One hero of the story is Augustine’s mother, Monica. She was an incredible example of devotion in prayer and in her faithful testimony to her son, praying for him throughout her lifetime. Without Monica, there would be no Augustine as we know him.
I don’t think I plan to read this again anytime soon, but I did enjoy the book, and I’m thankful for Augustine.
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