Letter 137: 1. I have read your letter, containing an abstract of a notable conversation given with praiseworthy conciseness. I feel bound to reply to it, and to forbear from alleging any excuse for delay; for it happens opportunely that I have a short time of leisure from occupation with the affairs of other persons.

Augustine of HippoVolusian|c. 408 AD|augustine hippo
conversioneducation booksillnessimperial politicsproperty economicsslavery captivitytravel mobilitywomen
Theological controversy; Persecution or exile; Travel & mobility

Augustine to Volusian, greetings.

I have heard that my earlier letter was well received and that you have further questions. I am delighted. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than a mind that keeps asking.

You want to know how the incarnation works — not just that it happened, but how it is possible. How can God, who is everywhere, be in a particular place? How can the infinite fit into the finite? How can the eternal enter time?

These are real questions, and I will not pretend they are easy. But I will say this: the difficulty you experience in comprehending the incarnation is not evidence against it. It is exactly what you should expect when a finite mind confronts an infinite reality. You would not expect to hold the ocean in a cup, and you should not expect to hold the incarnation in a concept.

That said, some analogies may help. Consider the human soul. Your soul is present in your entire body — it does not occupy your hand more than your foot. When you lose a limb, your soul is not diminished. The soul is present everywhere in the body without being confined to any part of it. If a created thing like the soul can be wholly present in something smaller than itself, why should the uncreated God not be wholly present in a human body without being confined to it?

Or consider the spoken word. A word exists in the mind of the speaker — fully, completely, without diminishment. When the speaker utters it, the word enters the physical world — it becomes sound, vibration, air. But the word in the mind is not diminished by its physical expression. The word spoken is the same word thought — but now it is accessible to others in a way it was not before.

This is what the incarnation is. The Word was with God. The Word was God. And the Word became flesh — not by ceasing to be God, but by adding humanity to divinity, so that what was hidden could be revealed, and what was distant could be near.

I know this does not answer every question. It is meant to clear the ground, not to build the whole structure. The structure is built by faith — and faith, for a man of your intelligence, is not the enemy of reason but its completion. Reason takes you to the door. Faith opens it.

Farewell, noble friend.

Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.

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