THIS is the business of our life. By labour and prayer, to advance in the grace of God, till we come to that height of perfection in which, with clean hearts, we may behold God. - Saint Augustine of Hippo - ( 354 - 430 )

To love God is something greater than to know Him. - Saint Thomas Aquinas - ( 1225 - 1274 )

ALL of us can attain to Christian virtue and holiness, no matter in what condition of life we live and no matter what our life-work may be. - Saint Francis de Sales - ( 1567 - 1622 )

There is no other religion than this, and the rule of life is the same for all. - Blessed Theophane Venard - ( 1829 - 1861 )

IF we wish to make any progress in the service of God we must begin everyday of our life with new ardour. We must keep ourselves in the presence of God as much as possible and have no other view or end in all our actions but the divine honour. - Saint Charles Borromeo ( 1538 - 1584 )

CONSIDER everyday that you are then for the first time - as it were - beginning; and always act with the same fervour as on the first day you began. - Saint Anthony of Padua ( 1195 - 1231 )

To be perfect in our vocation is nothing else than to fulfil the duties which our state of life obliges us to perform, and to accomplish them well, and only for the honour and love of God. - Saint Francis de Sales ( 1567 - 1622 )

GOD asks little, but He gives much. - Saint John Chrysostom - ( 347 - 407 )

THE soul who is in love with God is a gentle, humble and patient soul. - Saint John of the Cross - ( 1542 - 1591 - 

WHAT do you possess if you possess not God? - Saint Augustine of Hippo - ( 354 - 430 )

THE love of worldly possessions is a sort of bird-lime, which entangles the soul, and prevents it flying to God. - Saint Augustine of Hippo - ( 354 - 430 )

THE EXAMINED LIFE  - The Confessions changes focus at this point and becomes more philosophical and theological. Here we begin to hear the self-examination of the Bishop of Hippo - Saint Augustine - and his interpretation of the nature of knowledge and of creation itself. -

- Page Eleven - When I name forgetfulness and recognize what I name, how could I recognize it if I did not remember it? I do not speak of the sound of the name, but the thing which it signifies. If I had forgotten, I could not recognize what that sound meant. When I remember memory, memory itself is, by means of itself, present with itself; but when I remember forgetfulness, there are present both memory and forgetfulness: memory by which I remember, and forgetfulness which I remember.

But what is forgetfulness, but the absence of memory? How then can that be present, so that I remember it, which, when it is present keeps me from remembering? But if we hold in memory what we remember, we could never recognize forgetfulness when we hear it named unless we remembered it. So then, forgetfulness is retained by memory. It is present then, so that we do not forget it. This being the case, are we to suppose that forgetfulness, when we remember it, is present to the memory only through its image rather than by itself? Because if it were present by itself, it would not cause us to remember, but to forget. Who can search this out? Who shall understand how it is?

Lord, I truly toil in this: yes, and in myself. I have become a difficult soil, requiring too much sweat of the brow. For I am not now searching out the regions of the heavens, or measuring the distances of the stars, or inquiring about the weight of the earth. It is I myself who remember, I, the mind. It is not so strange if what I am not should be far from me. But what is nearer to me than myself? And lo, I do not understand the power of my own memory, though I cannot even name myself without it. For what shall I say, when it is clear to me that I remember forgetfulness? Shall I say that what I remember is not in my memory? Or shall I say that forgetfulness is in my memory so that I will not forget? Both of these are most absurd. But what third view is there? How can I say that the image of forgetfulness is retained in my memory, and not forgetfulness itself, when I remember it? How could I say this either, seeing that when the image of anything itself is imprinted on the memory, the thing itself must first be present from which the image may be imprinted? For this is the way I remember Carthage, and in this way I remember all the places I have been; this is the way it is with men's faces whom I have seen, and things reported by the other senses. Thus it is which health or sickness of the body. For when these things were present, my memory received images from them, which remain present with me, so that I can look on them and bring them back to mind when I remember them in their absence. If then this forgetfulness is retained in the memory through its image, not through itself, then, plainly it was once present itself, so that its image might be taken. But when it was present, how did it write its image in my memory, since the forgetfulness by its presence erases even what it finds already recorded? And yet, in whatever way, although it is past conceiving or explaining, I am certain that I remember forgetfulness itself, too, by which is blotted out what we remember.

Great is the power of memory, a fearful thing, O my God, a deep and boundless multiplicity; and this is the mind and this I am myself. What am I then, O my God? What nature am I? A life various and manifold, exceedingly immense. Behold the innumerable plains and caves and caverns of my memory are innumerably full of unnumbered kinds of things - either through images, as in all physical bodies, or by actual presence, as the arts, or by certain notions or impressions, like the emotions of the mind which are retained by the memory even when we no longer feel them, because whatever is in the memory is in the mind. I run over all these, I fly, I drive on this side and on that, as far as I can, and there is no end. The power of memory is a great as the power of life in this moral life of man.

What shall I do then, O my God, my true life? I will go even beyond this power of mine which is called memory. Yes, I will go beyond it, so that I may approach you, O lovely Light. What do you say to me? See, I am mounting up through my mind toward you who dwell above me. Yes, I now will pass beyond this power of mine which is called memory, desiring to reach you where you may be reached, and to cleave to you where that is possible. For even beasts and birds have memory, otherwise they could not return to their dens and nests, nor do the many other things they do. Nor indeed could they be used in anyway except through their memory. I will pass then beyond memory, too, that I may reach him who has separated me from the four-footed beasts and made me wiser than the fowls of the air. So, I will go on beyond memory, but where shall I find you, O truly Good and certain Sweetness? If I find you without my memory, then I cannot retain you in my memory. And now shall I find you, if I do not remember you?

The woman who lost her drachma and searched for it with a light could never have found her drachma and searched for it with a light could never have found it unless she had remembered it. And when it was found, how would she know it was the same coin if she did not remember it? I remember having looked for and finding many things, and this I know by it, that when I was searching for any of them, and was asked, "Is this it?" "Is that it?" I said, "No," until the thing I was looking for was offered. But if I had not remembered it - whatever it was - though it had been offered to me, I could not have found it because I failed to recognize it. And so it always is when we look for and find any lost thing. Nevertheless, when anything is lost from sight by chance (not from the memory, as any visible body might be) still its image is retained within us, and we look for it until it is restored to sight; and when it is found, we recognize it by its image within. We do not say that we have found what was lost unless we recognize it, and we cannot recognize it unless we remember it. It was lost to the eye, but it was retained in the memory.

When the memory itself loses anything, as happens when we forget something and try to recall it, where do we look for it, but in the memory itself? And there, if one thing happens to be offered instead of another, we reject it until we find what we are looking for. And when we find it, we say, "This is it!" We could not say that unless we recognized it, nor recognize it unless we remembered it. Certainly then we had forgotten it. Or, had all of it not been forgotten, and did we look for the part that was missing by the part which we still remembered, as if the memory felt that it could not carry on properly until the missing part was restored to it?

For instance, if we see or think of someone known to us, and having forgotten his name, try to recall it, whatever else occurs does not connect itself with his name, because we are not accustomed to think of that in connection with him. So we go on rejecting these things until something presents itself on which the knowledge we seek rests. And from where does that come, but out of the memory itself? For even when we recognize it as it is brought to mind by someone else, it still comes from memory. For we do not believe it as something new, but upon recollection, agree that what was said was right. But if it had been utterly blotted out of mind, we would not remember it even when reminded of it. For we have not as yet utterly forgotten what we remember as having forgotten. What we have lost and utterly forgotten, we cannot even search for.

How do I seek you, then, O Lord? For when I seek you, my God, I seek a happy life. I will seek you, my God, I seek a happy life. I will seek you that my soul may live. For my body lives by my soul, and my soul lives by you. How then do I seek a happy life, seeing that I do not have it until I can rightly say, "It is enough!" How do I seek it? By remembering, as though I had forgotten it, remembering that I forgotten it? Or by desiring to learn it as something unknown, either never having known, or having so forgotten as not even to remember that it had been forgotten? Is not a happy life what all seek, and is there anyone who does not desire it? Where have they known it, so that they desire it? Where have they seen it, that they love it so much? Somehow we have it, but how I do not know.

There is indeed a way in which one has it and then is happy, and there are some who are happy in the hope of having it. These have it in a lesser way than those who have it in very fact; yet they are better off than those who are neither happy in fact nor in hope. Yet even these, if they did not have it in some way, they would not so greatly desire to be happy - and that they do desire it is most certain. How they have known it then, I do not know. By what sort of knowledge they have it, I do not know, and I am perplexed whether it is in the memory - for in that case, we would have been happy once.

I do not now inquire as to whether everyone was happy separately, or happy in that man who first sinned, in whom also we all died, and from whom we are all born with misery. I only ask whether the happy life is in the memory. For we could not love it if we did not know it. We hear the name, and we all confess that we desire the thing, for we are not delighted with the mere sound. When a Greek hears it in Latin, he is not delighted, not knowing what is being spoken. But we Latins are delighted, as he would be too, if he heard it in Greek; because the thing itself which Greeks and Latins and men of all other tongues long for so earnestly is neither Greek nor Latin. It is therefore known to all, for could that with one voice be asked, "Do you want to be happy?" they would answer, without doubt, "We do." And this could not be unless happiness itself, signified by the name, were retained in their memory.

But is it the same as when one who has seen Carthage remembers it? No. For a happy life is not seen with the eye, because it is not a body. Is it the same as when we remember numbers? No. For the one who has these in his knowledge does not have to look further to reach them. But a happy life we have in our knowledge and therefore love it, and yet we still desire to attain it, so that we may be happy. Is it the same as when we remember eloquence, then? ........... - Page Eleven -

BY  SAINT AUGUSTINE OF HIPPO  

-   WELCOME TO SACRED SCRIPTURE / WORD OF GOD / HOLY BIBLE READER'S COMMUNITY   - 

Wishing you, 'Happy Reading', and may God, the Father, the Son of the living God, Jesus Christ, fills your heart, mind, thoughts, and grants you: The Holy Spirit, that is, Wisdom, Knowledge, Understanding, Counsel, Piety, Fortitude, Fear of the Lord, and also His fruits of the Holy Spirit, that is, Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Trustfulness, Gentleness and Self-Control. Amen! God blessing be upon you!

Why do you call Me, "Lord, Lord" and not do what I say?' "Everyone who comes to Me and listens to My words and acts on them - I will show you what he/she is like. He/She is like a man/woman who when he/she built his/her house dug, deep, and laid the foundations on rock; when the river was in flood it bore down on that house but could not shake it, it was so well built. But the one who listens and does nothing is like the man/woman who built his/her house on soil, with no foundations: as soon as the river bore down on it, it collapsed; and what a ruin that house became!" - Luke 6:46-49 - 

If we live by the truth and in love, we shall grow in all ways into Christ Jesus, who is the head by whom the whole body is fitted and joined together, every joint adding its own strength, for each separate part to work according to it function. So the body grows until it has built itself up, in love." - Ephesians 4:15-16 - 

I still have many things to say to you but they would be too much for you now. But when the spirit of truth comes, he will lead you to the complete truth, since he will not be speaking as from himself, but will say only what he has learnt; and he will tell you of the things to come. He/She will glorify me, since all he/she tells you will be taken from what is mine. Everything the Father has is mine; that is why I said: all he/she tells you will be taken from what is mine." - John 16:12-15 - 

The chief cause of inner unhappiness is egotism or selfishness. He/She who gives himself/herself importance by boasting is actually showing the credentials of his/her own worthlessness. Pride is an attempt to create an impression that we are what we actually are not.

How much happier people would be if instead of exalting their ego to infinity, they reduced it to zero. They would then find the true infinite through the rarest of modern virtues: humility. Humility is truth about ourselves. A man/woman who is six feet tall, but who says: "I am only five feet tall," is not humble. He/She who is a good writer is not humble if he/she says: "I am a scribbler." Such statements are made in order that there might be a denial and thus win praise. Rather he/she would be humbler who says: "Well, whatever talent I have is a gift of God and I thank Him for it." The higher the building the deeper the foundation; the greater the moral heights to which we aspire the greater the humility. As John the Baptist said when he saw Our Lord Jesus Christ: "I must decrease; He must increase." Flowers humbly depart in the winter to see their mother roots. Dead to the world, they keep house under the earth in humble humility, unseen by the eyes of men/women. But because they humbled themselves, they are exalted and glorified in the new springtime.

Only when a box is empty can it be filled; only when the ego is deflated can God pour in His blessings. Some are already so stuffed with their own ego that it is impossible for love of neighbour or love of God to enter. By seeking their own constantly, everyone disowns them. But humility makes us receptive to the giving of others. You could not give unless I took. It is the taker that makes the giver. So God, before He can be Giver, must find a taker. But if one is not humble enough to receive from God, then he/she receives nothing.

A man possessed by the Devil was brought to a Father of the Desert. When the saint commanded the devil to leave, the Devil asked: "What is the difference between the sheep and the goats whom the Lord will put at His right and His left Hand on the day of Judgement?" The saint answered: "I am one of the goat." The Devil said: "I leave because of your humility."

Many say: "I have laboured for years for others and even for God, and what did I get out of it? I am still nothing," The answer is, they have gained something; they have gained the truth of the own littleness - and of course, great merit in the next life. One day two men were in the carriage. One said" "There is not enough room for you here in this seat." The other said: "We will love each other a little more, and then there will be room enough." Ask the man: "Are you a saint?" If he answers in the affirmative, you can be very sure that he is not.

The humble man concentrates on his own errors, and not upon those of others; he sees nothing in his neighbour but what is good and virtuous. He does not carry his own faults on his back, but in front of him. The neighbour's defects he carries in a sack on his back, so he will not see them. The proud man, on the contrary, complains against everybody and believes that he has been wronged or else not treated as he deserves. When the humble man is treated badly he does not complain for he knows that he is treated better than he deserves. From a spiritual point of view, he who is proud of his intelligence, talent or voice, and never thanks God for them is a robber; he has taken gifts from God and never recognised the Giver. The ears of barley which bear the richest grain always hang the lowest. The humble man is never discouraged, but the proud man falls into despair. The humble man still has God to call upon; the proud man has only his own ego that has collapsed.

One of the loveliest prayers for humility is that of Saint Francis: "Lord, make me a instrument of Your peace. Where there is hatred, let there be love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. O Divine Master, grant that I may seek, not so much to be consoled as to consoled; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is dying that we are born to Eternal Life."  

BY  VENERABLE  FULTON  J.  SHEEN

-   WELCOME TO SACRED SCRIPTURE / WORD OF GOD / HOLY BIBLE READER'S COMMUNITY   - 

Wishing you, 'Happy Reading', and may God, the Father, the Son of the living God, Jesus Christ, fills your heart, mind, thoughts, and grants you: The Holy Spirit, that is, Wisdom, Knowledge, Understanding, Counsel, Piety, Fortitude, Fear of the Lord, and also His fruits of the Holy Spirit, that is, Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Trustfulness, Gentleness and Self-Control. Amen! God blessing be upon you!

Why do you call Me, "Lord, Lord" and not do what I say?' "Everyone who comes to Me and listens to My words and acts on them - I will show you what he/she is like. He/She is like a man/woman who when he/she built his/her house dug, deep, and laid the foundations on rock; when the river was in flood it bore down on that house but could not shake it, it was so well built. But the one who listens and does nothing is like the man/woman who built his/her house on soil, with no foundations: as soon as the river bore down on it, it collapsed; and what a ruin that house became!" - Luke 6:46-49 - 

If we live by the truth and in love, we shall grow in all ways into Christ Jesus, who is the head by whom the whole body is fitted and joined together, every joint adding its own strength, for each separate part to work according to it function. So the body grows until it has built itself up, in love." - Ephesians 4:15-16 - 

I still have many things to say to you but they would be too much for you now. But when the spirit of truth comes, he will lead you to the complete truth, since he will not be speaking as from himself, but will say only what he has learnt; and he will tell you of the things to come. He/She will glorify me, since all he/she tells you will be taken from what is mine. Everything the Father has is mine; that is why I said: all he/she tells you will be taken from what is mine." - John 16:12-15 -    

"Come to Me," pleads our Blessed Saviour, "all you that labour and are burdened; I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon yourselves, and learn from Me; I am gentle and humble of Heart; and you shall find rest for your souls."

TRUST the past to the Mercy of God, the present to His Love, and the future to His Providence. - Saint Augustine of Hippo - ( 354 - 430 )

WHEN an evil thought is presented to the mind, we must immediately endeavour to turn our thoughts to God, or to something which is indifferent. But the best rule is, instantly to invoke the names of Christ Jesus and Mary, Mother of God, and to continue to invoke them until the temptation ceases. - Saint Alphonsus Liguori - ( 1696 - 1787 )

God is not a deceiver, that He should offer to support us, and then, when we lean upon Him, should slip away from us. - Saint Augustine of Hippo - ( 354 - 430 )

WHEN we have once placed ourselves entirely in the hands of God, we need fear no evil. If adversity comes, He knows how to turn it to our advantage, by means which will in time be made clear to us. - Saint Vincent of de Paul - ( 1580 - 1660 ) 

WAIT upon the Lord: wait upon HIM by avoiding all sin. He will come; doubt it not. To this firm hope, join the practice of virtue, and even in this life you will begin to taste the ineffable joys of Paradise. - Saint Bernard - ( 1090 - 1153 ) 

The greater and more persistent your confidence in God, the more abundantly you will receive all that you ask. - Saint Albert the Great - ( d. 1280 )

God is full of compassion, and never fails those who are afflicted and despised, if they trust in Him alone. - Saint Teresa of Avila - ( 1515 - 1582 )

HOPE not in thyself, but in thy God. For if thou hopest in thyself, thy soul is troubled within thee, since it hath not yet found that whereby it may be confident concerning thee. - Saint Augustine of Hippo - ( 354 - 430 )

THE virtue of Patience is so great a gift of God, that we even preach the patience of Him who bestows it upon us. - Saint Augustine of Hippo - ( 354 - 430 )

THE EXAMINED LIFE  - The Confessions changes focus at this point and becomes more philosophical and theological. Here we begin to hear the self-examination of the Bishop of Hippo - Saint Augustine - and his interpretation of the nature of knowledge and of creation itself. -

- Page Ten - Yet these are not all that the immeasurable capacity of my memory retains. Here also is all that I have learned of the liberal sciences and have not yet forgotten - removed as it were to some inner place, which is yet no place. In this case, it is not the images which are retained, but rather, the things themselves. For whatever literature, whatever art of debating, however many kinds of questions I know, they exist in my memory as they are - I have not taken in their image and left out the thing itself. It is not as though it had sounded and passed away like a voice retained in the ear, which can be recalled as if it still sounded when it no longer sounded. Nor is it like an odour that evaporates into the air as it passed, affecting the sense of smell, and from it carries an image of itself into the memory which we renew when we recall it. Nor is it like food, which verily has no taste in the belly, but yet still tasted in some way in the memory; nor as anything which the body feels by touch and which the memory still conceives when removed from us. For those things themselves are not transmitted into the memory, but their images are caught up and stored, with an admirable swiftness, as it were, in wonderful cabinets, and from there wonderfully brought forth by the act of remembering.

But now when I hear that there are three kinds of questions - whether a thing is, what it is, of what kind it is - I do indeed hold the images of the sounds which make up these words, and I know that those sounds passed through the air with a noise and then ceased to be. But the questions themselves which are conveyed by these sounds, I never reached with any sense of my body, nor do I ever see them at all except by my mind. Yet I have not laid up their images in my memory, but these very questions themselves. How they entered into me, let them say if they can; for I have gone over all the avenues of my flesh, and cannot find how they entered. For the eyes say, "If those images were coloured, we reported about them." The ears say, "If they made a sound, we gave you knowledge of them." The nostrils say, "If they have any smell, they passed by us." The taste says, "Unless they have a flavour, do not ask for me." The touch says, "If it has no size, I did not handle it, and if did not handle it, I have no account of it."

Whence and how did these things enter my memory? I do not know. For when I learned them, I gave no credit to another man's mind, but recognised them in mine; and approving them as true, I commended them to my mind, laying them up as it were, where I could get at them again whenever I wished. There they were then [in my mind] before I stored them in my memory. Where then, or why, when they were spoken, did I acknowledge them and say, "So it is! It is true," unless they were already in the memory, But so thrown back and buried as it were in deeper recesses, that if the suggestion of another had not drawn them forth, I may have been unable to conceive of them? [Augustine here is very near the Platonic teaching, that learning is remembering. In his Retractions (1, 8:2) he gave up this opinion, saying rather that the mind has a natural affinity for the things of the intelligible world.] 

Thus we find that to learn those things whose images do not come to us by the way of the senses, but which we know by themselves as they are, without images, is nothing more than taking the things the memory already has - scattered and unarranged. By marking and careful attention we gather them, as it were in that same memory where they lay unknown before scattered and ignored, so that they can readily occur to the mind now familiarized with them. And how many things of this kind does my memory hold which have already been discovered and as I said, placed as it were handily, which we are said to have learned and come to know? And if I for some short space should cease to call them back to mind, they would again be so buried, and glide back, as it were, into the deeper recesses, that they would have to be drawn out again as if new from the same place. For there is nowhere else for them to go, but they must be drawn together again that they may be known. That is to say, they must be collected together from their scattering. From this the word to cogitate comes. For cogo [I collect] and cogito [I recollect] have the same relation to each other as ago [I do] and agito [I do frequently], facio [I make] and facito [I make frequently]. But the mind is appropriated to itself this word, cogito, so that, not what is collected anywhere, but only what is recollected, that is, brought together in the mind, is properly said to be cogitated or thought upon.

The memory also contains innumerable principles and laws of numbers and dimensions, none of which have been impressed upon it by any bodily sense, since they have neither colour, sound, taste, smell nor touch. I have heard the sound of the words by which they are signified, but the sounds are other than the things themselves. Fir the sounds are different in Greek than in Latin, but the things are neither Greek nor Latin, nor other language. I have seen the lines of architects, the very finest, like a spider's thread; but the truths they express are not the images of those lines, which my physical eye saw. The architect knows them without any use whatsoever of a body, by recognizing them within himself. I have perceived, also, with all the senses of my body the numbers of the things which we count, but those numbers themselves by which we count are different. They are not the images of the things we count, and therefore they simply are. Let him who does not see these truths laugh at me for saying them. While he derides me, I will pity him.

 The same memory contains the feelings of my mind - not in the same way that my mind contains them when it feels them, but in quite a different way, according to a power peculiar to memory. For without rejoicing, I remember that I have rejoiced. Without sorrow, I recollect my past sorrow. And what I once feared, I review without fear; without desire, I call to mind past desire. Sometimes, on the other hand, I remember my past sorrow with joy, and my past joy with sorrow.

This is not to be wondered at as regards the body, for the mind is one thing, the body another. If I therefore remember some past pain of the body with joy, it is not so strange. But this very memory itself is mind - for when we want something remembered, we say "See that you keep this in mind." And when we forget, we say, "it did not come to my mind," or "It slipped my mind," calling the memory itself the mind.

 Since this is so, how is it, that when I remember my past sorrow with joy, the mind has joy while the memory has sorrow? The mind rejoices over the joyfulness which is in it, while the memory is not sad while retaining the sadness in it. Does the memory perchance not belong to the mind? Who will say so? The memory then is, as it were, the belly of the mind, and joy and sadness are like sweet and bitter food. When these are committed to the memory, they are, as it were, passed into the belly, where they may be stowed but not tasted. It is ridiculous to consider this comparison, but yet they are not totally unalike.

But, consider this. It is out of my memory that I say there are four basic emotions of the mind - desire, joy, fear and sorrow. Whatever I may discuss about them, by dividing each into its own particular kind, and by defining what it is, it is from my memory that I find what to say and bring it out from there. Yet I am not disturbed by these emotions when I call them to mind and remember them. Yes, and before I recalled and brought them back, they were there, and so could be brought forth by recollection. Perhaps as meat is brought up out of the stomach by chewing the cud, these things are brought out of the memory by recollection. Why, then, does the man who is thinking of them not taste in his mouth the sweetness of joy or the bitterness of sorrow? Does the comparison fail in this because it is not alike in all respects? For who would ever willingly speak of it, if every time we named grief or fear we should be compelled to feel sad or fearful? And yet we could not speak of them if we did not find in our memory, not only the sounds of their names according to images impressed on it by our bodily senses, but also the notions of the things themselves, which we never received by any avenue of the flesh. But the mind itself recognized them through the experience of its own passions, committed them to the memory; or else the memory itself retained them without having them actually assigned to it [by the conscious mind].

But whether this is done by images or not, who can readily say? Thus, I name a stone, I name the sun, and the things themselves are not present to my senses, but their images are present to my memory. I name a bodily pain, yet it is not present with me when nothing aches. Yet, unless its image was present in my memory, I would not know what to say of it, nor how to tell pain from pleasure. I name bodily health. When I am sound in body, the thing itself is present with me; yet unless its image were also present in my memory, I could not recall what the sound of this name signified. Nor would the sick, when health was named, recognize what was being spoken of, unless the same image were retained by the power of memory, although the thing itself was absent from the body. I name numbers by which we count; and it is not their images but the numbers themselves that are present in my memory. I name the image of the sun, and that are present in my memory. For I do not recall the image of its image, but the image itself is present to me when I call it to mind. I name memory, and I recognize what I name. But where do I recognize it but in the memory itself? It is also present to itself by its image, and not by itself?

When I name forgetfulness and recognize what I name, how could I recognize it if I did not remember it? I do not speak of the sound of the name, but the thing which it signifies. If I had forgotten, I could not recognize what that sound meant. When I remember memory, memory itself is, by means of itself, present with itself; but when I remember forgetfulness, there are present both memory and forgetfulness: memory by which I remember, and forgetfulness which I remember....... - Page Ten -

BY  SAINT AUGUSTINE OF HIPPO  

-   WELCOME TO SACRED SCRIPTURE / WORD OF GOD / HOLY BIBLE READER'S COMMUNITY   - 

Wishing you, 'Happy Reading', and may God, the Father, the Son of the living God, Jesus Christ, fills your heart, mind, thoughts, and grants you: The Holy Spirit, that is, Wisdom, Knowledge, Understanding, Counsel, Piety, Fortitude, Fear of the Lord, and also His fruits of the Holy Spirit, that is, Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Trustfulness, Gentleness and Self-Control. Amen! God blessing be upon you!

Why do you call Me, "Lord, Lord" and not do what I say?' "Everyone who comes to Me and listens to My words and acts on them - I will show you what he/she is like. He/She is like a man/woman who when he/she built his/her house dug, deep, and laid the foundations on rock; when the river was in flood it bore down on that house but could not shake it, it was so well built. But the one who listens and does nothing is like the man/woman who built his/her house on soil, with no foundations: as soon as the river bore down on it, it collapsed; and what a ruin that house became!" - Luke 6:46-49 - 

If we live by the truth and in love, we shall grow in all ways into Christ Jesus, who is the head by whom the whole body is fitted and joined together, every joint adding its own strength, for each separate part to work according to it function. So the body grows until it has built itself up, in love." - Ephesians 4:15-16 - 

I still have many things to say to you but they would be too much for you now. But when the spirit of truth comes, he will lead you to the complete truth, since he will not be speaking as from himself, but will say only what he has learnt; and he will tell you of the things to come. He/She will glorify me, since all he/she tells you will be taken from what is mine. Everything the Father has is mine; that is why I said: all he/she tells you will be taken from what is mine." - John 16:12-15 -   

THIS is the business of our life. By labour and prayer, to advance in the grace of God, till we come to that height of perfection in which, with clean hearts, we may behold God. - Saint Augustine of Hippo - (354 - 430)

OUR actions have a tongue of their own; they have an eloquence of their own, even when the tongue is silent. For deeds prove the lover more than words. - Saint Cyril of Jerusalem - (315 - 386)

REMEMBER that nothing is small in the eyes of God. Do all that you do with love. - Saint Therese of Lisieux - (1567 - 1622)

It is not the actual physical exertion that counts towards a man's/woman's progress, nor the nature of the task, but the spirit of faith with which it is undertaken. - Saint Francis Xavier - (1506 - 1552)

Our business is to love what God would have done. He wills our vocation as it is. Let us love that and not trifle away our time hankering after other people's vocations. - Saint Francis de Sales - (1567 - 1622)

We should remember that a cheerful disposition goes a long way towards making the burdens of life bearable.

CHEERFULNESS strengthens the heart and makes us persevere in a good life. Therefore  the servant of God ought always to be in good spirits. - Saint Philip Neri - (1515 - 1595)   

We need no wings to go in search of Him, but have only to find a place where we can be alone and look upon Him present within us. - Saint Teresa of Avila - (1515 - 1582)

AT this very moment I may, if I desire, become the friend of God. - Saint Augustine of Hippo - (354 - 430)

THE EXAMINED LIFE  - The Confessions changes focus at this point and becomes more philosophical and theological. Here we begin to hear the self-examination of the Bishop of Hippo - Saint Augustine - and his interpretation of the nature of knowledge and of creation itself. -

- Page Nine - You, Lord, are my judge, because, although  no man/woman knows the things of a man/woman but the spirit of a man/woman which is in Him, yet there is something of man/woman which the spirit of man/woman that is in Him, itself, does not know. But you, Lord, know him/her completely, for You made him/her. And although I despise myself in your sight and account myself dust and ashes, I know something of You which I do not know of myself. Truly, now we see through a glass darkly, not face to face as yet. As long, then, as I am absent from you, I am more present with myself than with you. And I know that you cannot be violated, but I do not know which temptations I can resist and which I cannot. There is hope, because you are faithful, who will not allow us to be tempted beyond our ability; but will with the temptation also make a way of escape, so that we may be able to bear it. I will confess then what I know of myself, I will confess also what I do not know of myself. What I know of myself I know by your light shinning upon me; and what I do not know of myself, I continue not to know until my darkness becomes as the noonday in the light of your countenance.

I love you, Lord, without any doubt, but with assured certainty. You have stricken my heart with your Word, and I love you. Yes, also, heaven and earth and all that is in them on every side bid me to love you. They will not cease to say to everyone, so that they are without excuse. But more profoundly, you will have mercy on whom you will have mercy, and compassion on whom you will have compassion. Otherwise, the heaven and the earth speak your praises to deaf ears.

But what do I love when I love you? Not the beauty of bodies, nor the fair harmony of time, nor the brightness of the lights, so gladsome to our eyes; not the sweet melodies of various songs, nor the fragrant smell of flowers and ointments and spices; not manna and honey; not the limbs that physical love likes to embrace. It is none of these that I love when I love my God. Yet I love a kind of light, a kind of melody, a kind of fragrance, a kind of food, and a kind of embrace when I love my God: the light, the melody, the fragrance, the food and the embrace of the inner man/woman, where their shines into my soul what space cannot contain, and there sounds what time cannot carry away. I breathe a fragrance which no breeze scatters, and I taste there what is not consumed by eating; and there I lie in the embrace that no satiety can ever separate. This is what I love when I love my God.

And what is it? I asked the earth, and it answered me, "I am not He." And whatever is in the earth confessed the same. I asked the sea and its deeps, and the living, creeping things, and they answered, "We are not your God; seek Him above us." "I asked the moving air; and the whole air with its inhabitants answered, "Anaximenes was deceived; I am not God," ( From Cicero: "After Anaximander came Anaximenes, who taught that the air is God." On the Nature of the Gods. ) I asked the heavens, sun, moon, stars. "No," say they, "we are not the God whom you seek." And I replied to all the things that throng about the senses of my flesh, "you have told me of my God, that you are not He. Tell me something of Him." And they cried, "He made us." My questioning of them was my thoughts about them, and their form of beauty gave the answer. And I turned myself to myself, and said to myself, "What are you?" And I answer, "A man." And behold, in me there appear both soul and body, one outside and the other within. By which of these should I seek my God? I had sought Him in the body from earth to heaven, as far as I could send my eyesight as messengers. But the better part is the inner, for to it, as the ruler and judge, all the bodily messengers reported the answers of heaven and earth and all things in them, who said, "We are not God, but He made us." These things my inner man knew by means of the outer. I, the inner man, knew them. I, the whole frame of the world about my God; and it answered me, "I am not He, but He made me."

Is not this outward appearance visible to all who have use of their senses? Why then does it not say the same thing to all? Animals small and great see it, but they cannot ask it anything, because their senses are not endowed with reason, so they cannot judge what they see. But men can ask, so that the invisible things of God may be clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made. But in loving them, they are brought into subjection to them, and subjects cannot judge. ( Plotinus said that to admire, to take as an object of pursuit anything different from one's own nature, is to acknowledge one's inferiority to it. ) Nor do these things answer unless the questioners can judge. The creatures do not change their voice, they do not appear one way to this man, another to that; but appearing the same what to both, they are dumb to one and speak to the other. Rather, they speak to all, but only those understand who compare the voice received externally with the internal truth. For truth says to me, "Neither heaven nor earth nor any other body is your God." This, their very nature says to him who sees them, "They are a mass; a mass is less in part than in the whole." Now I speak to you, O my soul, your are my better part, for you quicken the whole mass of my body, giving it life. Nobody can give life to a body. But your God is the Life of your life.

What do I do, then, when I love my God? Who is He who is so high above my soul? But my very soul I will ascend to Him. I will soar beyond that power by which I am united to my body, filling its whole frame with life. But I do not find God by that power, for then, so could horse and mule that have no understanding find Him, for it is the same power by which their bodies live. ( The Latin word is anima - physical life. Augustine sees animals as possessing the interior sensus which correlates the data of sense perception, but lacks ratio - the reason, which forms judgements. ) But there is another power, not only that by which I am made alive, but that, too, by which I imbue my flesh with sense, which the Lord has made for me, commanding the eye not to hear and the ear not to see; but commanding the eye that I should see through it, and the ear that I should hear through it, and the several other senses, what is to each their own proper places and functions. Through these different senses, I, as a single mind, act. I will go beyond this power of mine, too, for the horse and mule also have this power, for they also perceive through their bodily senses.

I will move on, then, beyond this power of my nature, rising by degrees to him who made me. And I come to the fields and spacious palaces of my memory, where the treasures of innumerable images are stored, brought there from all sorts of things perceived by the senses. Further, there is stored up in memory whatever thoughts we think, either by enlarging or diminishing, or changing in any other way those things which the senses have brought in; and whatever else has been committed and stored up, which forgetfulness has not yet swallowed up and buried. When I enter there, I ask what I want brought forth, and some things appear instantly; others must be sought after longer, and are brought, as it were, out of some inner storage place. Still others rush out in crowds, and while only one thing is desired and asked for, they leap into view as if to say, "Do you perhaps want me?" I drive these away from the face of my remembrance with the hand of my heart until what I wanted is unveiled and appears in sight out of its secret place. Other things come up readily, in unbroken order, as they are called for - those in front giving way to those that follow; and as they make way, they are hidden from sight, ready to come back at my will. All of this takes place when I repeat something by heart.

And all these things are preserved distinctly and under general heads, each having entered my memory by its own particular avenue: light and colours and forms of bodies, by the eyes; all sorts of sounds by the ears; all smells by the avenue of the nostrils; all tastes by the mouth; and by the sensation of the whole body, what is hard or soft, hot or cold, smooth or rugged, heavy or light - either external or internal to the body. All these things the great recesses, the hidden and unknown caverns of memory receive and store, to be retrieved and brought forth when needed, each entering by its own gate. Yet the things themselves do not enter, but only the images of the things perceived are there, ready to be recalled in thought. But how these images are formed, who can tell? It is plain, however, which sense brought each one in and stored up. For even while I dwell in darkness and silence, I can produce colours in my memory if I choose, and I can discern between black and white. Sounds do not break in and alter the image brought in by my eyes which I am reviewing, though they also are there, lying dormant and stored, as it were, separately. I can call for these, too, and they immediately appear. And though my voice is still and my throat silent, I can sing as much as I will. Those images of colours do not intrude, even though they are there, when another memory is called for which came in by way of the ears. So it is with other things brought in and stored up by the other senses - I can recall them at my pleasures. Yes, I can tell the fragrance of lilies from violets, though I smell nothing; I prefer honey to sweet wine, smooth surface to rough ones - at the time neither tasting nor handling, but only remembering.

These things I do inside myself, in that vast hall of my memory. For present there with me are heaven, earth, sea and whatever I could think on them, in addition to what I have forgotten. There also I meet with myself, and recall myself - what, when and where I did a thing, and what my feelings were when I did it. All that I remember is there, either personal experiences or what I was told by others. Out of the same store I continually combine with the past, fresh images of things experienced, or what I have believed from what I have experienced. From these I can project future actions, events and hopes, and I can reflect on all these again in the present. I say to myself, in that great storehouse of my mind, filled with the images of so many and such great things, "I will do this or that, and this or that will follow." "Oh, would that this or that might be!" "May God prevent this or that!" This is the way I talk to myself, and when I speak, the images of all I speak about are present, out of the same treasury of memory. I could not say anything at all about them if their images were not there.

Great is the power of memory, exceedingly great, O my God: a large and boundless chamber! Who has ever sounded the depths of it? Yet this is a power of mine, and belongs to my nature. But I do not myself comprehend all that I am. Therefore the mind is too narrow to contain itself. But where can that part be which it does not itself contain? Is it outside it and not inside? How then does it not comprehend itself? A great wonder arises in me; I am stunned with amazement at this. And men go outside themselves to admire the heights of mountains, the mighty waves of the sea, the broad tides of rivers, the width of the ocean and the circuits of the stars, passing by themselves. They do not wonder at the fact that when I spoke of all these things, I did not see them with my eyes, yet I could not have spoken of them unless I then inwardly saw with my memory the mountains, waves, rivers and stars which I have seen, and that ocean which I believe to exist, and with the same vast spaces between them as if I saw them outside myself. Yet I did not actually draw them into myself by seeing them, when I beheld them with my eyes, but only their images. And I know which sense of the body impressed each of them on me.

Yet these are not all that the immeasurable capacity of my memory retains. Here also is all that I have learned of the liberal sciences and have not yet forgotten - removed as it were to some inner place, which is yet no place............... - Page Nine -  

BY  SAINT  AUGUSTINE  OF  HIPPO  

-   WELCOME TO SACRED SCRIPTURE / WORD OF GOD / HOLY BIBLE READER'S COMMUNITY   - 

Wishing you, 'Happy Reading', and may God, the Father, the Son of the living God, Jesus Christ, fills your heart, mind, thoughts, and grants you: The Holy Spirit, that is, Wisdom, Knowledge, Understanding, Counsel, Piety, Fortitude, Fear of the Lord, and also His fruits of the Holy Spirit, that is, Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Trustfulness, Gentleness and Self-Control. Amen! God blessing be upon you!

Why do you call Me, "Lord, Lord" and not do what I say?' "Everyone who comes to Me and listens to My words and acts on them - I will show you what he/she is like. He/She is like a man/woman who when he/she built his/her house dug, deep, and laid the foundations on rock; when the river was in flood it bore down on that house but could not shake it, it was so well built. But the one who listens and does nothing is like the man/woman who built his/her house on soil, with no foundations: as soon as the river bore down on it, it collapsed; and what a ruin that house became!" - Luke 6:46-49 - 

If we live by the truth and in love, we shall grow in all ways into Christ Jesus, who is the head by whom the whole body is fitted and joined together, every joint adding its own strength, for each separate part to work according to it function. So the body grows until it has built itself up, in love." - Ephesians 4:15-16 - 

I still have many things to say to you but they would be too much for you now. But when the spirit of truth comes, he will lead you to the complete truth, since he will not be speaking as from himself, but will say only what he has learnt; and he will tell you of the things to come. He/She will glorify me, since all he/she tells you will be taken from what is mine. Everything the Father has is mine; that is why I said: all he/she tells you will be taken from what is mine." - John 16:12-15 -