Examining
the Influence of Platonism and Neo-Platonism in Augustine’s Confessions
By Gordon Coulson
As a Christian of the Anabaptist persuasion, I come to the Confessions[1] with some trepidation. Augustine’s Just War theory, later refined by Thomas Aquinas, has provided rationale and Church[2] blessing for the slaughter of millions of people in the centuries since the Church turned to violence.[3] His predestination soteriology has left many people in a state of confusion and hopelessness, since according to this belief, the fate of the Elect of God is fixed: heavenly bliss, as is the fate of the non-Elect: eternal damnation. These two influential doctrines have significantly subverted Christianity in my opinion.
However, as I worked my way through the Confessions, to my great surprise, I could not help but develop a fondness for Augustine. His transparent honesty is humbling. He reveals his most hidden sins and then, as it were, raises his hands in the air, praising God for his deliverance. He is not afraid to bare his pre-Christian foolishness and vanity to the world. For example, he lies to his friends about his exploits to impress them (I.30), and later asks God to “Grant me chastity and continence, but not yet” (VIII.17). He lays down his life in its ugliness and promise for all to see, in the hope that future generations will benefit from this intimately revealing search for God. It is a sacrifice made in sincerity, no doubt.
Fairness in debate and love for truth, as he saw it, was important to Augustine. He recognized that we pursue knowledge with an imperfect and sinful mind. He seemed tolerant of other views (XII.35) and after his analysis, preferred to say, “I don’t know” rather than taking a dogmatic position (XII.41). For this stance, he is to be highly commended. Christians should pay attention to his example.
I like the man Augustine, but remain ambivalent to the subsequent effect of his thinking on Christianity.
With that background and introduction, we
come to the purpose of this paper, which is to consider the influence of Neo-Platonism
on Augustine’s thinking—especially leading up to his conversion—in the
Confessions. He comes to his search for
Christ saturated in Greek philosophy. Indeed,
most pages of the Chadwick translation have at least one reference to a Greek
source. These are his essential
tools. The result is a continued fusion,
begun with earlier Church Fathers, of Christian thought with Greek philosophy. In the process, the Jewish perspective, which
is essential to the understanding of
As a boy, Augustine studied Greek classics. He did so in great fear: one of his earliest prayers to God is that the teacher will not beat him (I.14). An early and striking example of his conscious fusion of Greek and biblical thought is a reference to the Prodigal in Book I:
The younger
son in your Gospel did not look for horses or carriages or ships; he did not
fly on any visible wing, nor did he travel along the way by moving his legs
when he went to live in a far country and prodigally dissipated what you, his
gentle father, had given him on setting out (I.28).
According to the footnote, both Homer and Plotinus are incorporated. The ease with which he integrates these writers is revealing. He is soaked in Greek thought. He sees the world through a Neo-Platonic lens, and formulates his ideas accordingly. His brilliant mind cannot help but take the building blocks at hand and rearrange them into more powerful hybrid patterns. This should not surprise us, considering the educational process at the time involved reading the classics aloud repeatedly and meditatively, until they were internalized.[4]
In Book II Augustine relates his life as a teenager. He admits to adolescent foulness, but suggests that his ultimate motive was to love and be loved (II.1). He describes his foreshadowed salvation as a move from disintegration to unity (II.2). This may seem odd to a 21st century Christian—more descriptive of recovering from mental illness perhaps—but not when we consider the references: Porphyry and Plotinus.[5]
The significance of introducing Greek thought into soteriology is important. Is salvation in Christ really an integration of a divided self, or the creation of a divided self: the new person in Christ in opposition to the old person of sin? The NT suggests the latter.[6] This illustrates Augustine’s problem: he assumes Neo-Platonism is essentially correct, and then attempts to build Christianity on top of it. We can reasonably ask if Greek-influenced philosophy is a good foundation for our faith.
Yet we must empathize with Augustine. Do most of us not view Christianity through 21st century post-modernist eyes? When we read the creation account, are we not tempted to apply our knowledge of genetics and physical science? When we read interactions in Scripture between people, do we not interpret these through modern psychological and sociological theories? Might we ask if many of the demon-possessed were perhaps just mentally ill, for example?
We cannot help but see and interpret the world through our internalized paradigms, and our implicit assumption is that our paradigms are correct. Indeed, we are generally not even conscious of them. Although Augustine wonders why simpler folk are coming to Christ before him (VIII-19), and has an interesting idea about our memory’s reflexive nature, being “…present to itself and through itself…” (X-23), he fails to make the connection that how he is viewing life is a product of internalized paradigms, and so is therefore a prisoner to them. Memories filter perception and therefore determine what form new memories will have.
Much of Augustine’s struggle in adolescence and early adulthood centers on his view of, and obsession with sex. In this sense, he is no different from most teenagers, and we empathize with him. As a youth, I felt similarly. School was generally for one thing only: to meet girls. The Sunday morning encouragements to greater continence fell on my spiritually deaf ears. In this, I feel a fraternal empathy with Augustine and applaud his honesty and transparency.
However, later, Augustine decides that perhaps sex should be for procreation only, and that enjoyment of the act is out of the question if one is to please God, whose “…omnipotence is never far from us, even when we are far from you”—another reference to Porphyry.[7] This view reflects Platonist dualism–the corrupt material world versus the good spiritual one, as well as Neo-Platonism’s view of the body as essentially evil. We see reflections of Augustine in later Roman Catholicism: an unhealthy dysfunction or dissonance around the topic of sex, as well as the insistence on a celibate clergy despite all scientific and biblical evidence to the contrary. Augustine completely misses the biblical view of sex as something good God has given within marriage. [8] The subsequent effects on the Church are disastrous.
Augustine generally makes a mess of his romantic life. His long-time concubine and mother of his child is sent away because “she was a hindrance to my marriage” (VI.25). That is, she was an obstacle to his ambition. He does not have the patience to wait the two years for his arranged and socially approved fiancé, and so takes another lover (VI.25). After his conversion, he would cancel his marriage engagement in order to seek a life of ascetic celibacy and contemplation (VIII.30).
Augustine is a man of strong ideals and extremes of behaviour. He is not the best person to be defining the view of marital life or celibacy in the Church.
In Book VII, Augustine continues his search for God, using Neo-Platonic tools. He wrestles with the concept of how to conceive of God. He tries to imagine God as a physical presence (VII.1). This body of God would fill all space and extend infinitely in all directions—beyond the physical universe into the realm of the invisible. Then, in characteristic self-analysis, he rebuts this theory by arguing if God is all in all physically, the larger the object, the more of God it would contain, which is absurd (VII.2). At this point in his quest, he does not bring in much biblical evidence, however.
He then considers the problem of evil. Much of his argument rests on the Platonic assumption that God is immutable and unchangeable. But is it true that if God were to learn anything new He would cease to be perfect in power, wisdom and love? Is this a biblical truth or a Platonic assumption?
If God is immutable and unchangeable in the
absolute sense, why does he change his mind and forgive the people of
The problem is that Augustine generally does not use the bible to build his basic propositions, but assumes them as Platonism and Neo-Platonism has defined them and then later incorporates Scripture to expand upon them. Indeed, he thinks that the philosophers contain much truth, such as the nature of the pre-existent Logos, but feels they are simply missing the rest of the story, which includes the Incarnation and sacrificial death (VII.14). Even in his exposition of the Trinity, he employs Plotinus: “So the divine being is, knows itself, and is immutably sufficient to itself, because of the overflowing greatness of the unity” (XIII.12). He is like the happy frog in Neo-Platonic water that is slowly and painlessly cooked.
Augustine comes around to the idea that evil is a result of free will. Bad choices lead to sin, which is then justly punished by God. He is guided to this conclusion by Neo-Platonism (through Ambrose) and Plotinus (VII.5 – also see footnote). Augustine has a lot of trouble with this concept. How could God create him in such a way that he could apply his free will to sinning instead of goodness, and then be punished for exercising his God-given abilities (VII.5)? The biblical answer is obvious—God is teaching us to choose good by allowing us to experience the consequences of sin—but at this point in his quest, Augustine does not put much weight in the bible. Later in his career, he would essentially reject free will and take a strong Predestination view of salvation.[9]
Augustine finds Scripture to be rather unsophisticated for a scholar such as him: “My inflated conceit shunned the Bible’s restraint, and my gaze never penetrated to its inwardness” (III.9). Later, he would ask his friend why the uneducated were finding Christ before the scholarly. Would he and Alypius be able to put aside their pride and follow their example (VIII.19)? It seems one of his greatest obstacle, besides Neo-Platonism, is his own ego, and to his credit, he freely admits this as he looks back on his life in the Confessions. In the end, he concludes that evil is a perversity of the will, a turning away from God and towards inferior things (VII.22).
Was Augustine unique in his intellectual pride? I can think of many times in my life where pride stumbled me in my quest for Jesus. I recall many heated debates, where I arrogantly held to certain doctrines only to find out later they were unscriptural, or at best, debatable. I think of Augustine as a Manichean[10] and the twenty years I spent in an authoritarian and controlling church. As the Confessions encourages me to look back on my own life, I feel the same sense of shame he did, and am more determined to foster a spirit of tolerance and understanding along with a generous dose of intellectual humility. How different our faith would be today if we could approach others more tolerantly and ourselves more honestly. Here we can learn from Augustine of Hippo.
Towards the end of Book VII, Augustine decides to study Scripture seriously. He is convinced that God wanted him to learn Neo-Platonism first; he thinks he may have otherwise been misled (VII.26). He finds no contradiction between Greek philosophy and Paul: “…all the truth I had read in the Platonists was stated here together with the commendation of your grace…” (VII.27). This is an amazing statement! Paul was a Jewish Pharisee, and as such, was soaked in Jewish thinking--especially the Hebrew Scriptures. Although he spoke Greek, and would be familiar with Greek ideas, as a Jew, he would consider them pagan, unclean. I find it amazing that Augustine completely misses this, considering he was much closer to the apostles than we are. I wonder where the Church would be today if he had made a point of studying Jewish writers with the same intensity as he did the Greek and Latin masters. It is only recently that scholars have revisited the Jewish mind in the quest to understand Jesus.[11] The results are striking, but come very late in the game.
In Book VIII, Augustine will convert to Christianity. A watershed moment is his visit with Simplicianus, who congratulates him for his study of the Platonists. Another is the baptism of Victorinus—a renowned scholar. Augustine is very impressed that he had “…read and assessed many philosophers’ ideas, and was tutor to numerous noble senators” (VIII.3). It is the influence of Ambrose and the approval of these scholars, that are the tipping point for Augustine. In this, we see Augustine’s elitism, carried to the point of baptism. Later he and Alypius would cringe at the thought of following after the uneducated rabble to Christ, but for now Augustine has a more splendid example in Victorianus. It seems he can become a Christian and still maintain his position as intellectual star. “As soon as your servant Simplicianus told me this story about Victorinus, I was ardent to follow his example” (VIII.10).
After a few more hesitations, and a vision of “Lady Continence”, who invites him to “Make the leap without anxiety” (VIII.27), he succumbs to the realization that he is a sinner and in need of salvation. Under a fig tree, and in tears, he hears a voice say, “Pick up and read…”, and opening a nearby bible, he lands on Romans 13:13-14, and is encouraged to “...behave not in…drunkenness…not in sexual promiscuity…” With this verse, which he sees as a command from God, his doubt is removed (VIII.29). He cancels his marriage engagement to pursue a life of ascetic piousness. From henceforth, he will turn over his will to God. His friend Alypius vows to join him in his new life course (VIII.30). Later he would write of God, “With your word you pierced my heart, and I loved you” (X.8).
How this story reminds me of my own conversion: seeking God in all the wrong places; spending years in religions doing things I thought were righteous but which in retrospect amounted to “works of the Law”. It was only when I looked back on my life, ashamed of my sin and desirous of God’s forgiveness, and was completely willing to turn my life over to Christ to have him do with as he pleased, that grace was received, and received in abundance. I understand Augustine’s desire to get out of the rhetorician business and into some serious service to God (IX.2). In my case, I withdrew from a controlling, works-based religion and moved towards the freedom that one can only have in Christ Jesus our Lord. Not a religion, but a relationship based on God’s love. Our response can only be to return that love with all our heart, mind and soul.
In this, Augustine echoes Origen,[12] using what Origen calls his five spiritual senses, described in exquisite poetic language. Here Augustine captures the very essence of the union with the risen Christ by the Spirit:
Yet there is a
light I love, and a food, and a kind of embrace when I love my God—a light,
voice, odour, food, embrace of my inner man, where my soul is floodlit by light
which space cannot contain, where there is sound that time cannot seize, where
there is a perfume which no breeze disperses, where there is a taste for food
no amount of eating can lessen, and where there is a bond of union that no
satiety can part. That is what I love
when I love my God (X.8).
Augustine’s poetic expression takes me back to my own day of conversion. It is a moving and brilliant passage. Yet, I continue to wonder how a man, who had such a deep and meaningful relationship with God, develops such detestable ideas as Just War theory and Predestination? What can we say in summary about this many-sided and complex thinker?
Augustine has taught us much about honesty, sincerity and perseverance in our quest for Jesus. He has demonstrated that to love God, we must give everything to him—all that we are. But where has his theology left us? The path of Greek philosophy, begun by the early Church Fathers and thoroughly developed by Augustine is now very much entrenched in Christian thought. I believe this is a tragedy. It will take many years to undo, but undo it we must if we are to recover the faith described in the Jewish and Jewish-Christian Scriptures.
Paradoxically, I still very much like the man Augustine and would have enjoyed his friendship I think. He was a product of his time and bound by his history. How could a man, steeped in Greek philosophy, simply turn it off and adopt a different worldview, especially when his mentors were encouraging him in it? How could he know that his brilliant work would be used in subsequent generations to twist and subvert the faith of Jesus? He could not.
What are the lessons for us? That being sincere, honest, and persistent, although necessary, may not be sufficient in the quest for biblical truth. Nor is high intelligence and academic excellence a guarantor. We must consider our inbuilt biases. How are we viewing our world? Where did we get the lenses? We may have to extract an inherited branch or two if we are to see Christ through apostolic eyes. Then, with clearer vision, we can more perfectly comprehend Jesus of Nazareth and his Kingdom Gospel.
Chadwick,
Henry.
Cook,
William R. and Ronald B. Herzman.
Hornus,
Jean-Michel. It Is Not Lawful For Me To
Fight.
Gonzalez,
Justo L. The Story of Christianity – The
Early Church to the Present Day.
Johnson,
Paul. A History of Christianity. Atheneum,
Wright,
N.T. The New Testament and the People of God.
[1] The translation used for this paper is by Henry Chadwick (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998). Subsequent references will be in the form of “(book.paragraph)”. For example (III.5) is book III, paragraph 5. We will use the later paragraph numbering supplied in 1679 by the French Benedictines.
[2] Church capitalized will generally refer to large, institutional religious systems as opposed to the ecclesia – the body of Christ composed of individual Christians in community
[3] Generally from
[4] Dr. John Toews, Lecture: “The
Church After c. 300 AD”, File E04.mp3, History 501 Audio Course,
[5] Footnote 1 of Book II
[6] Romans 7:25
[7] Footnote 5 of Book II
[8] 1 Corinthians 7:3, Song of Solomon
[9] Dr. John Toews, Lecture: “The
Church After c. 300 AD”, File E05.mp3, History 501 Audio Course,
[10] The Manichees were an exclusive, heretical sect
[11] For example, N.T. Wright, The New Testament and the People of God
[12] See footnote 5 of Book X and footnote 3 of Book IX