Augustine’s Confessions: The Birth Of the Inner World (Romans 13:13-14)

Augustine’s Confessions did not influence the world with a single, thunderous strike, but through a gentle and persistent introspection that poured into the soul of Western civilization. His work could be viewed as the birth of the soul’s inner world, inviting readers to embark on their own journeys of self-discovery, which are created through God’s ongoing Story of Grace. His act of writing, which blended personal reflection on his own life with profound theological and philosophical questions, created a new form of self-examination that had never before been seen. With candid honesty, Augustine laid bare his struggles, doubts, and spiritual awakenings. The penning of this work created space, allowing others to find solace in his vulnerabilities. As the movement of Christianity was becoming bigger and wider in scope in the Roman world, at the same time it became smaller and more personalized through the writing of this groundbreaking work.

In this article, we will discuss the lasting effects of the Confessions and how it expanded our understanding of the soul, revealing important psychological insights and spiritual discoveries. As we explore Augustine’s self-examination, we will see how the Confessions not only changed individual lives but also affected the larger conversation about the meaning of God’s Story of Grace working through history.

The Journey of Augustine

The birth of the inner world

Augustine began writing Confessions around the age of 43 in 397 AD. This was not from a place of comfort but of reckoning. Hunched over a parchment, the nib of his pen scratching in the silence, he recounts his life from childhood to his conversion to Christianity. Putting aside his academic and scholarly leaning, this work is primarily the unburdening, solitary prayer addressed to God. It begins with his most famous words:

We are a mere particle in your creation, and yet you stir our hearts, so that in praising you, we find our joy. You have made us for yourself, Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.

The narrative is not a typical autobiography; instead, it is a reflective journey through his sins and struggles, a theological exploration of themes like memory, time, and creation, and an examination of his relationship with God. It offers an unprecedented glimpse into the complexities of the human psyche.

Grace and Redemption

His ability to confront the sin and brokenness of his inner life so honestly is made possible in light of Christ’s inexhaustible grace and redemption. In one memorable section, he remembered the theft of pears as a boy, a trivial sin on the surface, but a festering wound in his memory. He wrote not only of the act but of the joy he found in the forbidden nature of it—the sheer, perverse pleasure of destruction for its own sake. The shame of that small, forgotten crime burned as brightly now as it had decades ago, a signpost to the deeper, restless sickness of his soul. He details this memory as follows:

My troublemaking friends and I often stayed out late, playing games in the streets until long after dark. One night, when the games had ended, we crept out to a pear tree near my family’s vineyard. The fruit wasn’t especially appealing or tasty, but that didn’t matter to us. We shook the tree violently, laughing as we robbed it of its fruit. We gathered pears by the armful, not to eat, but to throw to the pigs. We hardly even tasted them. It wasn’t the pears we wanted; we just wanted to do something wrong, something forbidden, something we enjoyed precisely because it was despised.

He recalled the intoxicating intellectual pride of his youth, the way he had dismissed the simple wisdom of Scripture for the elegant, but empty, prose of the great Greek and Latin writers. The memory of it felt like a betrayal. He recalled the face of his mother, Monica, whose prayers had followed him like a shadow across continents, a thread of light he had tried so hard to sever. Her love was a grace he could not outrun, and now, as he wrote, he remembered the presence of her prayers following his long journey home.

The story moved toward Milan and the sermons of Bishop Ambrose, whose voice had taught Augustine to listen for the deeper truths of the biblical texts. Here he describes his encounters with the great Christian leader:

So, off I went to Milan. And that’s where I met Ambrose, the bishop. He was already known far and wide, beloved as a good man and a faithful servant of you, Lord. His eloquent sermons were like a feast for your people, giving them the nourishment of your wheat, the joy of your oil, and the sober intoxication of your wine. I didn’t know it at the time, but you were the one leading me to him, so that through him, I might be led to you. Ambrose welcomed me like a father—kind, warm, and gracious from the moment I arrived.

Conversion

The narrative reaches the famous garden scene. As he senses God coming closer to his life, he is all the more wrestling with his divided will, torn between a longing for worldly pleasure and a call to a higher life. He had heard a child’s voice chanting repeatedly, “Take up and read.” The words had driven him to the letters of the Apostle Paul, and the passage he had fixed his eyes upon struck him like a thunderclap:

Let us behave decently, as in the daytime, not in carousing and drunkenness, not in sexual immorality and debauchery, not in dissension and jealousy. Rather, clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ, and do not think about how to gratify the desires of the flesh. (Romans 13:13-14)

Recalling the impact from this reading, Augustine recounts:

My eyes landed on these words: “Not in carousing and drunkenness, not in sexual immorality and debauchery, not in dissension and jealousy. Rather, clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ, and do not think about how to gratify the desires of the flesh.” Those were the only words I read. They were all I needed. The moment I reached the end of that sentence, it felt as if a bright light suddenly snapped on inside my heart, sweeping away every shadow of doubt. I slipped a marker into the book and closed it. My heart, once storm-tossed, was now completely still.

The story of his life was only the beginning. The last chapters were an exploration of the great mysteries he now understood: the nature of time and memory, the meaning of Genesis, and the uncreated goodness of God. His mind, once a labyrinth of prideful philosophy, was now a vessel for God’s truth. He wrote for the many who would one day read it, but primarily, he wrote for God. With every word, he became less the great orator and more the small, repentant man, finding peace in the bittersweet medicine of truth. He had entered his story in his own words, and by the end, he had discovered himself within God’s Story of Grace.

The Impact of the Confessions

God’s grace moves dynamically, healing the brokenness of history. In this creative narrative, the Confessions reveals that grace is not an abstract concept, but a dynamic, historical force. Augustine wasn’t just recounting history; he was discerning its meaning. His life became a microcosm (a small example of a larger reality) of human history itself. In his own story of wandering and return, he saw the grand narrative of humanity’s journey away from and back to God. His personal conversion was not a singular event, but a participation in the greater story of redemption, showing how grace works within the fabric of time.

This is seen in the shame he once felt for his concubine and their son, Adeodatus, born out of wedlock, but now transformed by a new kind of love, a human affection now ordered by the divine grace.

My son, Adeodatus, was with us as well. He was born of my sin, and yet, Lord, you had crafted him so wonderfully. He wasn’t even fifteen, but his mind was sharper than many seasoned men. That brilliance didn’t come from me. Every good thing in him was a gift from you, the Creator who alone can take what is broken and make it whole. All I had given that boy was my sin in his conception; everything else came from your grace. You raised him in your ways, not me. You filled his young heart with a love for your discipline. And for these gifts, I thank you.

A new awareness emerged of the soul’s innermost, personal dimension. Augustine’s story demonstrates that history is not just unfolding on the wider world stage shaping events, but the drama of divine grace that is shaping and redeeming individuals, and through them, the wider world. The book’s profound legacy is that it taught the world to look inward, to see the human soul not as a static entity but as a dynamic landscape of memory, will, and grace. God is equally at work in the grand, sweeping moments of history and in the small, personal ones: in a mother’s persistent prayers, in a book found in a garden, in the quiet realization that the heart is restless until it rests in God. In Augustine, the vastness of the one trinitarian God is seen equally in the simplicity of his personal distinctions.

Ambrose and the Courage to Resist the State (Ephesians 1:22)

depiction of Ambrose

On rare occasions, leaders arise in history who possess the vision and capability to effectively address several significant problems at once, often leaving a lasting impact on their societies. In the late fourth century, that exceptional leader was Ambrose of Milan, Italy (340-397 AD). As Bishop of Milan, he was not only a powerful orator but also a devoted theologian whose influence reached far beyond his time. Substantial challenges were confronting the movement of God’s Story of Grace, including political strife, theological disputes, and moral decline in the church, which Ambrose navigated with remarkable skill. He actively worked to bridge the gap between church and state, advocating for Christian values while confronting the powerful rulers of his day, thereby shaping the early Christian church’s influence within the Roman Empire.

  • The church was divided and weakened by the heresy of Arianism.
  • The power and authority of state rulers over the church had become way too great.
  • There were no larger voices to shape a biblical understanding to address the great shifts of the changing times.

All of these factors combined, placed the church at a place of increased impotency. In Ambrose, an unlikely and reluctant bishop in northern Italy, these problems would find a decisive answer. In God’s Story of Grace, he would arise to the occasion and weave together several loose threads into a unified knot. Further, he would ascend to a place of influence–not from his own choosing or ambition–to showcase the supremacy of Christ in the world:

God has put all things under the authority of Christ and has made him head over all things for the benefit of the church. (Ephesians 1:22)

In this article we will see how the life of Ambrose, in his spiritual authority, restrained the most powerful state in the world, showing the supremacy of Christ for his church over all things.

Life of Ambrose

Summoned to Lead

Ambrose, born in 340 AD, was the son of a government official in Trier, a city in present-day Germany. Following in his father’s footsteps he trained as a lawyer to prepare himself for a life of service as a government official. By his early 30s, he was already governor of Milan, a city in northern Italy. Milan had taken over Rome as the place of imperial rule due to the emergence of barbarian invaders threatening the capital city. When the bishop of Milan died in 374 AD, Ambrose expected trouble. Tension between the Nicene (those holding to the divinity of Jesus) and Arian (those holding to Jesus being less than divinity) parties were very sharp. Conflict arose over whether the new bishop would be Arian or Nicene. 

As it was coming time to choose a bishop, crowds surged into the streets, some shouting they wanted an Arian bishop, while others demanded a Nicene replacement. The animosities were potentially boiling to a riot. As regional governor, it was Ambrose’s responsibility to oversee the election. He pleaded with the crowd to keep the peace. He was not publicly identified with either party. As he addressed the riotous crowds, the people were enthralled with his speaking ability. Combined with his existing popularity, the crowd began to shout, “Ambrose for bishop!” The pleas grew more insistent: “Ambrose for bishop! Ambrose for bishop!”

The two major problems with this appeal is that Ambrose had no desire to be bishop; further, he had not even been baptized.  After strongly resisting the call to spiritual leadership over Milan, he finally consented to the will of the citizens. Within eight days, Ambrose was baptized and ordained bishop of Milan. As a leader he was both wise and humble enough to know how much he had to learn. When he became bishop, he gave away his wealth and found teachers in theology to help him learn what he needed to know to effectively shepherd and guide as bishop. He eventually became one of the most learned men of his time.  His influence would be felt for centuries.

Overcoming the Power of Arianism

Upon attaining the role of bishop, he was not publicly aligned with either Nicene or Arian views. This worked to his favor because both parties believed that they had obtained a mutually acceptable candidate in Ambrose. As he grew in spiritual leadership and applied his education to the interpretation and exposition of scripture; he acquired a profoundly biblical and Nicene understanding of the faith. It would be this doctrine that he zealously defended in the face of Arian opposition not only against Arian bishops but from the imperial power of the Rome. Emperor Valentinian II, who was Arian, attempted to have one of the three major churches in Milan under the control of the Arians for their use. Ambrose refused. The conflict culminated in a stand-off between imperial and church authority. Ambrose and his supporters barricaded themselves inside the church successfully resisting the efforts of Valentinian.

During the confrontation Ambrose set forth an important principle that would have ramifications for Church-state relations for centuries: “The emperor is in the church, not above it.” In 381, the same year as the Council of Constantinople, Ambrose presided over the Council of Aquileia in the West. This council deposed several Arian bishops, solidifying support for Nicene and biblical belief in his own realm.

“The emperor is in the church, not above it.” 

Ambrose of Milan

Overcoming the Pride of Rome

Ambrose’s triumph over a politically powerful Arianism was followed by a more thorny confrontation with another imperial authority who arose to the throne in 380, Theodosius. Not long after he became emperor, Theodosius declared Nicene Christianity the official belief of the entire Roman Empire. Yet Ambrose’s principle of the emperor being “in the church, not above it” would face an even greater test with this new ruler. This happened when Theodosius ordered the massacre of some 7,000 people in Thessalonica after a local riot that claimed the lives of several imperial officers. Ambrose, as the emperor’s bishop, ordered him to do public penance. In a carefully worded but firm letter, he chided the emperor, likening his action to King David’s murder of Uriah the Hittite:

Bear it, then, with patience, O Emperor, if it be said to you: You have done that which was spoken of to King David by the prophet. For if you listen obediently to this, and say, “I have sinned against the Lord,” if you repeat those words of the royal prophet: “O come let us worship and fall down before Him, and mourn before the Lord our God, Who made us,” it shall be said to you also: “Since you repent, the Lord puts away your sin, and you shall not die.”

Theodosius complied with this directive and publicly repented and decreed that, going forward, any time he sentenced someone to death, there should be a waiting period of a month before the sentence was carried out. This way he would not act in haste. 

Ambrose’s Legacy

Ambrose was used in God’s Story of Grace to place the church on a footing of moral authority in order that Christianity and the gospel could give spiritual guidance to the larger development of civilization. He did this by bravely and effectively resisting two emperors, demonstrating a remarkable blend of spiritual fortitude and diplomatic skill, and placing the church at its proper place of authority. This courageous stance was not merely an act of defiance but a profound assertion that would allow the church to become a moral compass and conscience of the state, particularly as western Rome began a gradual process of disintegration marked by political turmoil and societal upheaval. In this context, the church would rise to take the lead as the unifying energy of civilization, fostering a sense of community and shared purpose among disparate groups. As God is shaping the world after his trinitarian image, Ambrose’s stance and resistance would create greater humility in the state (after the one God), prompting rulers to recognize the limits of their power. This acknowledgment would allow greater freedom and creativity for society (after the distinctive persons), encouraging a flourishing of culture, art, and thought, rooted in Christian values. Ambrose’s enduring influence would echo through history, reminding future generations of the vital interplay between faith and governance in the pursuit of a just and equitable society.

This would also pave the way for the contributions of Ambrose’s greatest disciple, Augustine. It would be Augustine who would provide a monumental understanding of the role and limits of the state in relation to church, especially in his magisterial writing, The City of God. It would be through the leadership of Ambrose, and to a much greater extent, Augustine, that the church and society would find a way to understand its place, as the Rome of the West would become increasingly weakened by barbarian invasions it was not able to stop.