Having now traveled a few days into the Thanksgiving holidays, my little writing project has been set aside for other things that have been more immanent, namely our regional staff retreat with Campus Crusade for Christ staff and the normal catching up with the family. So, I may only have a couple of entries this week, but I hope they will overcome their poverty of quantity with a wealth of quality. ;)Here I start on Book 3 of The Confessions, where Augustine recounts his coming to Carthage in 370 A.D as a young man of 16 to begin his formal studies. It was in Carthage that Augustine began his life of high culture, learning, and promiscuity. It was not until he reached 18 and read Cicero's Hortensius that it dawned on Augustine that happiness was not found in food, sex, and purely material pleasures. In that respect, there are not a few similarities between Augustine as a young male university student and the experience and temptations of many today. The lure and hunger for physical pleasure, notoriety, and and materialism are as alive today, or even more so, as they were in the fourth century. There is nothing new under the sun.
As it begins, Augustine recalls that he "came to Carthage and all around me hissed a cauldron of illicit loves. As yet I had never been in love and I longed to love." How often this is the situation for not only the modern college student, but even for those entering high school and even junior high. The "cauldron of illicit loves" has boiled over and filtered down through our tv's, computers, iPods, and lunchroom conversations. In that respect, I wonder if the cauldron burns hotter and broader than it once did in Augustine's day.
Augustine goes on to say, regarding the fact that he longed to love but had never been in love, that "from a subconscious poverty of mind I hated the thought of being less inwardly destitute. I sought an object for my love, I was in love with love, and I hated safety and a path free of snares." It should be said that Augustine's understanding of "love" was certainly age-appropriate and not the mature, self-giving sort of love that is true love, marital or otherwise. On reading these remarks at first, I didn't quite understand what Augusine meant by saying he "hated the thought of being less inwardly destitute." I thought that certainly he did not want to be more inwardly destitute. In Albert Outler's translation, we have Augustine saying it this way, "from a hidden hunger, I hated myself for not feeling more intensely a sense of hunger." So, it occurred to me that although Augustine had not experienced that love for which he longed, he was reflecting on the fact that he loved his desire for illicit love so much so that he hated that it was not stronger than it was. He thought the idea of his becoming less hungry for this illicit love as something to be despised and avoided altogether, and only later on did he realize that this was an indication, not of the virtue of his illicit hunger, but of its poverty and the magnitude of his real hunger beneath it for incorruptible love. Augustine loved his illicit hunger, not knowing that it would overtake him to consume him. He said,
"my hunger was internal, deprived of inward food, that is of you yourself, my God. But that was not the kind of hunger I felt. I was without any desire for incorruptible nourishment, not because I was replete with it, but the emptier I was, the more unappetizing such food became...I was glad to be in bondage, tied with troublesome chains, with the result that I was flogged with the red hot iron rods of jealousy, suspicion, fear, anger, and contention."
I have noticed this same inclination in my own heart, that I find many times that I am in love with desire, illicit or otherwise, to the exclusion of its object, the corruption of the purposes of desire itself, and the loss of real love. This affects relationships in the most radical way. Several years ago while interning with a youth group in near Houston, I realized during the Sunday morning worship time that my anxiety over how I "felt" during the singing time was really more an indication of me worshiping not the Lord who is to be worshiped but the experience of worship itself. It was and is an idolatry to be repented of, worshiping the relationship over the one I relate to, or in the words of Romans, "worshiping the creature rather than the Creator who is blessed forever." I also find this principle at work concerning human relationships, especially of the romantic kind, that I (I would say "we", but I dare only speak for myself) tend to love the experience of the relationship more than the one with whom I am in relationship. This is that very same self-centered destructive principle also at work in worship that I mentioned earlier, where we become "spiritually inbred". If Christ and his image is not at the center, then things become convoluted indeed!
Toward the end of this first paragraph, Augustine recalls how he had "rushed headlong into love, by which I was longing to be captured." But then he prays, "'My God, my mercy' in your goodness you mixed in much vinegar with that sweetness." So this continues to be the theme of much of Augustine's journey to conversion, that God exposed to him the depravity of his own pursuits so that he would turn to the source of true satisfaction and love. He was restless, and his heart would be at rest until it rested in God. We also pray with Augustine that in His mercy God would mix in vinegar with all that is at first sweet in our sinful pursuits so that we would return to Him, "the shepherd and guardian of our souls."
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