Letter 231: 1. You requested an answer from me as a proof that I had gladly received your letter. Behold, then, I write again; and yet I cannot express the pleasure I felt, either by this answer or by any other, whether I write briefly or at the utmost length, for neither by few words nor by many is it possible for me to express to you what words can never ...

Augustine of HippoDarius|c. 424 AD|augustine hippo
education booksfriendshipproperty economics
Barbarian peoples/invasions; Travel & mobility; Military conflict

Augustine to Darius, greetings.

You have sent me another letter, and this one asks about my Confessions. You want to know: did I really do all those things? Was I really that lost?

Yes. Every word of it is true.

I stole pears I did not want, for the sheer pleasure of stealing. I kept a mistress for years and fathered a child by her. I devoted my best years to the Manichaean heresy — nine years of my life given to a lie that I was too proud to examine and too lazy to abandon. I pursued worldly ambition with an energy I should have given to God. I delayed my conversion not because I doubted the truth but because I did not want to give up my pleasures.

I wrote it all down because I believe that the truth about ourselves is the beginning of the truth about God. A man who cannot face his own past cannot face his own savior. And a man who presents himself to the world as better than he is has already built a wall between himself and grace.

The Confessions were not written to shock. They were written to praise. Every sin I committed reveals, by contrast, the mercy that forgave it. Every wrong turn I took reveals, by contrast, the hand that redirected me. The story of my life is not, in the end, the story of my wandering. It is the story of God's patient pursuit of a man who was determined to run in the wrong direction.

"You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you." I wrote that at the beginning of the Confessions, and it remains the truest thing I have ever said. Everything else — every chapter, every confession, every prayer — is a footnote to that one sentence.

Farewell, dear friend.

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

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