The Confessions of Saint Augustine, bishop
O Eternal Truth, true love and beloved eternity |
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Saint Augustine |
Urged
to reflect upon myself, I entered under your guidance the innermost
places of my being; but only because you had become my helper was I able
to do so. I entered, then, and with the vision of my spirit, such as it
was, I saw the incommutable light far above my spiritual ken and
transcending my mind: not this common light which every carnal eye can
see, nor any light of the same order; but greater, as though this common
light were shining much more powerfully, far more brightly, and so
extensively as to fill the universe. The light I saw was not the common
light at all, but something different, utterly different, from all those
things. Nor was it higher than my mind in the sense that oil floats on
water or the sky is above the earth; it was exalted because this very
light made me, and I was below it because by it I was made. Anyone who
knows truth knows this light.
O eternal Truth, true Love, and beloved Eternity, you
are my God, and for you I sigh day and night. As I first began to know
you, you lifted me up and showed me that, while that which I might see
exists indeed, I was not yet capable of seeing it. Your rays beamed
intensely on me, beating back my feeble gaze, and I trembled with love
and dread. I knew myself to be far away from you in a region of
unlikeness, and I seemed to hear your voice from on high: “I am the food
of the mature: grow, then, and you shall eat me. You will not change me
into yourself like bodily food; but you will be changed into me”.
Accordingly I looked for a way to gain the strength I needed to enjoy you, but I did not find it until I embraced the mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus, who is also God, supreme over all things and blessed for ever. He called out, proclaiming I am the Way and Truth and the Life, nor had I known him as the food which, though I was not yet strong enough to eat it, he had mingled with our flesh, for the Word became flesh so that your Wisdom, through whom you created all things, might become for us the milk adapted to our infancy.
Late have I loved you, Beauty so ancient and so new, late have I loved you!
Lo, you were within,
but I outside, seeking there for you,
and upon the shapely things you have made
I rushed headlong – I, misshapen.
You were with me, but I was not with you.
They held me back far from you,
those things which would have no being,
were they not in you.
You called, shouted, broke through my deafness;
you flared, blazed, banished my blindness;
you lavished your fragrance, I gasped; and now I pant for you;
I tasted you, and now I hunger and thirst;
you touched me, and I burned for your peace.
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