A Prayer of Seeking: St. Augustine’s Meditations on the Divine
The following is the opening of Confessions, St. Augustine’s classic work, translated into modern English by Modern Saints. Stay tuned for the upcoming release of Confessions: A Modern Translation.
Great are You, O Lord, and deserving of endless praise! Your power is immeasurable, and Your wisdom has no limits. Humanity, just a small part of all You have created, longs to lift You up. Even though we bear the weight of our mortality and the evidence of our sin—constant reminders that You stand against the proud—we still desire to glorify You. You stir our hearts so that in praising You, we find joy. For You have made us for Yourself, and our hearts will always be restless until they find their rest in You.
Lord, help me understand: what comes first—calling on You or praising You? Knowing You or calling on You? How can anyone call on You if they don’t know You? And if they don’t truly know who You are, could they be calling on someone You are not? Or is it that calling on You helps us know You? But how can anyone call on You without believing in You first? And how can they believe in You unless they have heard about You? Scripture tells us that those who seek You will praise You—because when they seek, they find, and when they find, they can’t help but praise.
So let me seek You even as I call on You and call on You even as I trust in You. You have been revealed to us, and my faith—Your gift to me—cries out to You. This faith, breathed into me through the coming of Your Son and the work of His servants, leads me to You.
How can I call on You, my God and my Lord, when calling on You implies that I expect You to come to me? Where within me could You possibly come? What space in me could ever hold You, the Creator of heaven and earth? Is there room in me for You? Even heaven and earth, which You created and where You placed me—can they truly contain You? Or is it that everything exists because of You, and in some way, everything contains You?
If that is true, and I exist because of You, why do I ask You to come into me? I wouldn’t even exist if You were not already within me. Why, then, do I search for You as if You aren’t already here? I am not in the depths of hell—but even if I were, You would be there. If I were to descend to the depths, You would still be there.
No, my God, I would not exist at all unless You were already within me. Or perhaps it’s better to say that I would not exist unless I were in You—the One from whom, through whom, and in whom all things are. This is true, Lord, undeniably true. So where could I invite You, when I already live in You? Where could You come from to enter into me? To what place beyond heaven and earth could I go, so that You might meet me there—You, the God who declares, I fill heaven and earth?
If You fill heaven and earth, Lord, does that mean heaven and earth can contain You? Or do You fill them completely and yet still overflow, beyond their ability to hold You? When heaven and earth are full of You, where does the overflow go? Or is it that You don’t need to be contained at all because You are the one who contains all things? What You fill, You do so by holding it within Yourself. The vessels that are full of You don’t support or stabilize You—because even if they were to break, You wouldn’t be spilled. When You pour Yourself out on us, You do not lie scattered but instead raise us up. You are never divided or diminished; You draw us together.
But when You fill all things, do You fill them with Your whole self? Or is it that no single thing can fully contain You, and each holds only a part of You? If that’s the case, do all things hold the same part of You, or does each hold a unique portion—greater things receiving more and smaller things less? But does it even make sense to speak of greater or smaller parts of You? Are You not present everywhere in Your fullness, while nothing in existence can fully contain You?
What are You, my God? What are You, I ask, but the Lord God? Who else is Lord but You, or who is God if not our God? You are the highest, the most good, the most powerful, and truly all-powerful. You are perfectly merciful yet perfectly just, deeply hidden yet so close to us, infinitely beautiful yet infinitely strong, steady yet mysterious. You never change, yet You govern all change. You are never new, never old, yet You make all things new. You humble the proud, even when they don’t realize it. You are always at work, yet always at rest. You gather all things to Yourself without needing anything. You sustain, fill, and protect. You create, nurture, and bring to completion. You seek us, even though You lack nothing.
You love without chaos, are jealous without fear, and grieve without sorrow. You grow angry while remaining calm. You change Your works without changing Your eternal plan. You reclaim what is Yours, though it was never lost to You. You never need anything, yet You delight in what You gain. You are never greedy, yet You demand what is rightfully Yours. You accept everything in abundance, though all things already belong to You. You owe nothing to anyone, yet You repay every debt. You forgive what we owe You, yet lose nothing in doing so.
What can I say, my God, my life, my holy joy? What can anyone say that truly captures who You are? Even the most eloquent fall silent before Your greatness. Yet, woe to those who do not speak of You, because no one can remain silent in Your presence.
Oh, how I long to find rest in You! Come into my heart and fill it with Your presence so completely that I forget my troubles and cling to You, my one true good.
What are You to me, Lord? In Your mercy, help me put it into words. And what am I to You, that You desire my love so deeply? Why is it that if I withhold it, You are angered and warn me of the suffering it will bring? Is it really such a terrible thing not to love You? Yes, it must be. So, for the sake of Your mercy, reveal Yourself to me, Lord, my God. Speak to my soul and say, I am your salvation. Speak in a way that I can hear.
My heart is listening, Lord. Open its ears so I can hear Your voice say, I am your salvation. Let me run to You and hold tight to You as I hear those words. Do not hide Your face from me. Let me die—if that’s what it takes—just to see Your face.
