Monday 10 April 2017

Chapter 10 - Augustine

General Comment

Augustine’s name has a place not only in the history of dogma but also in the general history of culture. In addition to theology, the fields of philosophy, literature, church government, and juridics have also been influenced by his writings.

Better than any other “Latin,” Augustine summarized the culture of antiquity and blended this heritage with Christian theology. He brought about, therefore, a synthesis of the philosophical heritage of antiquity and Christianity, but he also contributed something new and distinctive from out of his own personality. At the same time that he was deeply anchored in antiquity and the Christian tradition, he also exercised a creative impact upon both theology and philosophy. He represented a culture that was passing away—the Roman—but at the same time his ideas served as a basis for the age that was coming. In the centuries that followed, theologians have continued to wrestle with the problems Augustine set forth, to cultivate his ideas, or to use his work as source material. Both scholastic and mystic, both papal church politics and the reform tendencies of the Middle Ages found seminal suggestions in the thought world of Augustine of Hippo.

The first thing to do in this connection is to try to understand Augustine’s basic concept of Christianity, together with his significance in the development of the history of dogma.

Augustine’s theological position was linked up with that of the early church, which he brought to completion—at least as far as the “Western” portion is concerned. He assembled and articulated the Christian tradition. But at the same time he also contributed something new.

As seen from the philosophical point of view, Augustine was a Neoplatonist. This school of thought exerted a decisive influence on him, and he never ceased to present his Christian beliefs in categories derived from it. He related Christianity to the ideas of his own period, which were colored to a large extent by Neoplatonism. As perceived in a formal sense, Augustine’s theology is a synthesis of Neoplatonic and Christian thought forms, and the basic concept which characterizes his theology bears the imprint of this synthesis.

Augustine was a man of the West, and the most prominent facets of his theology are those which are found at the center of Western theology. The question of the church as well as the anthropological questions, for example, were answered by Augustine in such a way that his answers became basic to theological thought in the centuries that followed—and this was true even when Augustine’s position was not completely accepted.

There are four different elements in Augustine’s theology which are of particular interest in this context. These are his doctrine of the Trinity (treated above), his basic concept of Christianity (Neoplatonism and Christianity), his doctrine of the church (developed in his struggle with Donatism), and his doctrine of sin and grace (developed in his struggle with Pelagius).

Augustine’s Personal Development

In order to understand Augustine’s theology, it is important to know something about the course of his life and his inner development, which influenced the formation of his position. The best source of information is his well-known book Confessions, written about the year 400.

Augustine was born in Tagaste, Numidia, in 354. His father was a pagan, but his mother was a Christian, so he was introduced to Christianity at an early age. He was sent to Carthage in 371 to be educated. While there he lived a completely worldly existence until he read Cicero’s Hortensius, which created a love of philosophy within him. A desire for truth replaced the desire for wealth and fame. In later years he recognized this change of mind as a step on the way to Christianity. “O truth, truth, how ardently my soul sighed for thee from this time!” From the very beginning it was to some extent clear to Augustine that the truth could not be reached apart from Christ. What prevented him from believing was the unphilosophical and (as he saw it) barbarous language of the Bible. Neither could he bring himself to submit to the authority of the Bible, which faith presupposes.

A short time after the above-mentioned incident Augustine joined with the Manichaeans, a sect which was fairly widespread in Africa. This group, which was founded by a Persian, Mani, in the third century, had much in common with Gnosticism. But its dualism was even more radical; it was not simply a dualism between God and the world, but above all between God and evil. Evil was thought of by the Manichaeans as an original principle side by side with God, an independent power which limited God’s dominion and against which God struggled. Their system of salvation is reminiscent of the Gnostic plan, and in general this provided Manichaeism with a comprehensive, speculative explanation of the world. Manichaeism was also characterized by a strict, ascetic code of ethics, which often devolved into the exact opposite—libertinism—among its members. Augustine was attracted to Manichaeism by its rational explanation of the world, as well as by its ascetic code, which temporarily provided a solution to his problems. But the deceitfulness of the Manichaean position became progressively more obvious to him, and after 9 years he departed its ranks.

In that same year, 383, Augustine went across the sea to Italy. He lived in Milan, where he came in contact with the famous theologian and churchman Ambrose, who exerted a decisive influence on him. Ambrose was a representative of the Western theological position, but he had also been deeply impressed by the theology of the East, as well as by Greek philosophy. Among other things, he had appropriated the allegorical method of interpretation from Philo and Origen. This method came to have great significance for Augustine, inasmuch as it enabled him to set aside some of the passages of Scripture which he found objectionable. In his preaching, Ambrose strongly emphasized the Pauline concept of justification through the forgiveness of sins, and this too was of great significance for Augustine.

First of all, however, Augustine turned to Neoplatonism. It was largely this school of thought which led him away from Manichaeism. The Neoplatonic concept of God was diametrically opposed to the Manichaean concept. The former viewed God as the absolute, the unchangeably good, elevated above all change, the source of all that is. Such a view was incompatible with the idea that evil is an independent principle and with the assumption that God struggled with evil and would be to that extent changeable, exposed to the variations of existence. Evil cannot be something independent, a creative and effective principle. In the Neoplatonic context, evil was thought of as a negative quality, nonbeing, lacking the good. Augustine accepted this definition of evil, and it formed the background of his diagnosis of the nature of sin. The impact of Neoplatonic thought upon Augustine is clearly presented in this passage from his Confessions: “But having then read those books of the Platonists, and thence been taught to search for incorporeal truth, I saw Thy invisible things, understood by those things that are made …. Then I was sure that Thou art, and art infinite … and that Thou truly art, who art the same ever, varying in no part or motion; and that all other things are from Thee, on this most sure ground alone, that they are …. And afterwards, when my spirits were subdued through Thy Bible … I learned to distinguish between presumption and confession—between those who saw whither they were to go, yet saw not the way, and the way that leads not only to behold but to dwell in the blessed country.” (VII, 20)

As it turned out, however, it was a passage from Paul’s Letter to the Romans which destroyed the last vestiges of resistance and facilitated Augustine’s conversion to Christianity. These were the decisive words: “Let us conduct ourselves becomingly as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarreling and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.” (13:13–14)

These words impelled Augustine to depart from his worldly ways; they directed his desire toward the transcendental, not for temporal advantage but in order that he might understand and behold God. His will was broken, but it became whole again as a result.

Augustine’s conversion meant that he had to give up his ambition to become a famous rhetorician. Formerly he was held in thrall by worldly desires, but this now eased, and his thoughts were turned to spiritual things. At the same time, he submitted to the teachings and the authority of the church. It was faith in Christ which made the transcendental a living reality to Augustine.

After his conversion, Augustine and a few other faithful Christians retired to a place called Cassiciacum, outside of Milan, and after some time he was baptized there in 387. In the following year he returned to Carthage. While he was on the way, his mother died—an event which affected him for a long time.

After living in Carthage for a number of years, Augustine was elected to serve as presbyter in the church at Hippo. Later he became bishop in this same city (395). And there he stayed until his death, which took place when the Vandals invaded the area and laid siege to Hippo in 430.

Many interpretations of the meaning of Augustine’s conversion have been given. A number of Protestant researchers, including Harnack, have claimed that his conversion did not signify a break with his former position. They feel that he remained a Platonist even after his conversion. Such postconversion writings as his Soliloquies are cited as evidence. On the basis of this book (written at Cassiciacum), the significance of his conversion has been minimized—which is quite the opposite of what Augustine himself says of this experience. Catholic researchers support the claim made in the Confessions and point to the conversion as a genuine transformation, as a result of which Augustine came to possess the Christian faith and submitted to the teachings of the church. As a result of the investigations of Nörregaard and Holl, the latter interpretation is now commonly accepted. Holl has shown that Augustine’s philosophical studies, which he obviously continued after his conversion, then had a different orientation.

Augustine’s Basic Concept of Christianity

In his Confessions Augustine describes his pilgrimage to the Christian faith. He tells how he wandered, blindly, on the paths of error. All the while, however, he was subject to the drawing power of grace and was more and more attracted by the love of truth, until finally, through his conversion, this love became permanent and his desires were directed toward spiritual reality. Prior to this, he was able only to glimpse the truth in the distance, and his love for it was too evanescent to enable him to overcome his love for the world. The kaleidoscopic nature of secular interests held him captive and exerted a divisive influence upon his desires. He knew no peace until he came to have faith in Christ, until he submitted to Scriptural truth. Only then did he find that for which he had been groping in vain. This was the experience Augustine summarized in these well-known words: “Thou hast made us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless till they find rest in Thee.” (Fecisti nos ad te et inquietum est cor nostrum, donec requiescat in te. Confessions, I, 1)

As we have already noted, Augustine did submit to the authority of the church and did accept the teachings of Scripture subsequent to his conversion. His baptism and his choice of a new way of life testify to the decisive nature of this change. In his writings, however, we can see a certain amount of continuity; what he wrote after his conversion is to some extent related to what he wrote before. Even the things he wrote immediately after his conversion (the Soliloquies, e.g.) are obviously influenced by Neoplatonism. As time went on, he did turn more and more to the Christian tradition, but he never broke completely with Neoplatonism (as he did, for example, with Manichaeism). As he saw it, Christianity and Neoplatonism were not mutually exclusive. He rather believed that Neoplatonic ideas had enabled him to find the way to Christianity and to understand its profoundest implications. As a result, the fundamentals of his theological position were always in part determined by Neoplatonic presuppositions.

Augustine’s basic attitude toward philosophical speculation did, however, alter after his conversion. Prior to this, philosophy had held out to Augustine the possibility of finding the truth via rational means, through the use of speculation. After his conversion Augustine understood the relationship between theology and philosophy in accordance with the formula, “I believe in order that I may understand” (credo ut intelligam). Submission to authority now held first place in his life. He no longer held that philosophical speculation was the way to the goal. He now believed that one could truly come to know God only by faith, by accepting revealed truth. He did not thereby conclude, however, that the possibility of considering faith in rational terms was precluded; he felt that the truth of faith could also be the object of comprehension, at least to some extent. But philosophical thought no longer enjoyed pride of place in Augustine’s life; it had been replaced by faith and by submission to the authority of Scripture.

For Augustine, logical thought based on faith (the intelligere) and related to submission to the teachings of the church took the form of a synthesis between Christianity and Neoplatonism. As he saw it, these two were in harmony with each other; they were not mutually exclusive. That is not to say that Augustine looked upon Neoplatonism as a religion on the same level as Christianity. Quite the contrary; he considered the latter the only source of truth. But they were related in his mind in the sense that Christianity alone can provide the proper answers to the questions posed by Neoplatonism or philosophy in general. Philosophers seek the truth, but they cannot find it. They recognize the goal, but they don’t know the way that leads to it. So when Christianity provides its answers to the deep questions asked by philosophy (the only valid answers to be found), it finds itself in a bifurcated relationship to philosophy. On the one hand, the attitude of faith reveals the falseness of philosophy by exposing its emptiness, its inability to satisfy man’s deepest longings. On the other hand, Christianity accepts the questions raised by philosophy, and thereby recognizes the basic attitude toward life which is characteristic of philosophy. This bifurcation is typical of Augustine’s understanding of Christianity. On the one hand, he acknowledged the truth of revelation and the Christian tradition in opposition to reason and philosophy. On the other, he presented Christianity in the categories implicit in the philosophical presuppositions which he accepted. Augustine created a synthesis which involved both Christian and Neoplatonic elements in mutual interaction. These lines of thought can be isolated and distinguished one from the other, but in Augustine’s mind they formed a unitary point of view, simultaneously Christian and Platonic.

Neoplatonism taught that the most elementary tendency to be found in man is his search for happiness, and it is this idea, above all, which connects Augustine with it. As he saw it, the basic presupposition of all human striving is to be found in man’s concentration upon an objective which promises to bring him certain benefits. “We certainly all wish to live happily.” (De moribus ecclesiae catholicae, I, 3, 4)

Furthermore, Augustine desired to prove that this concentration of the human will is not simply confined to casual and temporal goals. What man longs for above all other things is the highest good (summum bonum), and even though he might satisfy his desire for temporal advantages, this will not satisfy him completely. This is revealed by the fact that man is constantly directing his attention toward new goals. He is not satisfied with that which is only partly good, which offers values of an inferior variety. That which fully corresponds to human destiny and toward which his deepest aspirations are directed must be the highest good, something of absolute worth, not qualified by anything higher. Augustine also believed that if a man strives for and reaches a certain level of achievement, his longing will not be stilled, for he must always live in fear of losing what he has gained. For the good he has won is changeable and perishable. Only what is enduringly and unchangeably good can satisfy the heart of man. And it is God alone who is such a summum et incommutabile bonum. Hence there is in all men a natural longing for God, the highest good. This desire expresses itself even in perverted forms of love. “God, who is loved by everything that is able to love, either knowingly or unknowingly ….” (Soliloquies, I, 1, 2)

There is a eudemonism in Augustine, but it is not the philosophical eudemonism which holds that the satisfaction of desire or the fulfillment of one’s own pleasure is the loftiest goal. According to Augustine, the loftiest goal is union with the highest good, with something transcendent, not to be found in the human sphere. “For me the good is to cling to God” (Sermon 156, 7). The vision of God is the supreme objective. When all of one’s spiritual powers are directed toward God and eternity, then it is that one’s mind is properly disposed, that one’s soul can experience peace and clarity. This kind of love is the highest command, which embraces all the others. “Love, and do what you will.” (Dilige, et quod vis, fac. In epistolam Joannis, VII, 8)

Augustine distinguished between love for the highest good, caritas, and love for the world—the desire, that is, which seeks the good in the temporal. This later came to be known as cupiditas. These are related to each other as good and evil. Caritas is the only true form of love; cupiditas is a false, perverted form. It can be said, therefore, that the power of desire is itself the same in both cases. In the natural man it is directed toward the world, toward the sensual and the variable. When conversion takes place, this striving is replaced; the Christian man is directed toward the heavenly and eternal. His life has been changed by the fact that his love for God has been awakened, and this love gradually overcomes his love of the world.

Augustine thought of love (amor) particularly as that which coincides with man’s inner will. This might either be directed upward towards God and the eternal (ascendit), or downward (descendit) towards that which is subject to the will—creation, the temporal order. The former is caritas, the latter cupiditas. Man can attain his destiny and come to know peace only after his love is wholly directed towards God. In one passage Augustine compares love (amor) to a stream of water which, instead of running down into a sewer where it can do no good, ought to be sprayed on the garden to refresh all that is there. As he understood it, the element of striving is essentially the same in both caritas and cupiditas. The love which is lavished on the things of the world ought to be directed towards God instead, for He is the highest good, the enduring good.

It might appear, in the light of this, as though man should break his relationship with the world and devote himself exclusively to that which is eternal. Such, however, is not the case. Augustine did place a high estimate on a life of seclusion, and he gladly conceived of the religious relationship as an intimate fellowship of the soul with God—a vision of God which is a foretaste of eternal blessedness. But Augustine did not disdain life in this world in itself. It is only when the temporal is given first place in a man’s heart that it becomes objectionable. God’s creation is good, and man has been put here to care for the gifts God has made available to us. But how then is man’s position in the world related to his fellowship with God? Augustine answered that question by drawing a distinction between uti and frui, to use and to enjoy. Even that which is created can be the object of love in its own way, but man must not find his ultimate goal therein. These things should only be used as means in the service of the higher form of love. God alone should be the object of that love which rests, without question, in the loved one. Such love is perpetual absorption in God—fruitio Dei. The difference between frui and uti is the difference between loving because of a thing itself (diligere propter se) and loving because of something else (diligere propter aliud).

Man’s life can be compared to a pilgrim’s journey to the fatherland. The goal of his wanderings is that land which alone offers him true joy. In his journey he must use ships and wagons to reach his goal. If he were to search for his joy in the pleasures of the journey, that which ought merely be a means would thereby become the goal. In the same way, the world in which the Christian lives should be used, but it must not become the object of joy. That love which uses the things of the world but finds its true joy nowhere but in the heavenly fatherland, is caritas. That love which seeks for satisfaction in the world, by using God as a means of temporal enjoyment, is cupiditas. “The good use the world that they may enjoy God; the wicked, on the contrary, wish to use God that they may enjoy the world.” (The City of God, XV, 7)

The distinction between uti and frui provided the basis for a comprehensive system respecting man’s deportment vis-à-vis God and the world. This is thought of as being arranged according to a scale of values where everything has the place it deserves, depending on its own value and depending on its nearness to or distance from that which is of absolute value. Love is to be adjusted according to this scale of values, and thus becomes an ordinata dilectio. A well-ordered love is one which loves God as He deserves, and loves the world only because of its relation to the highest good, only because it is a means of attaining to that which is of supreme value.

Augustine did not thereby deny, however, that the creation, too, could be the object of love. But such love must be adjusted according to the value of the thing in question, which is determined not by what it does for us here but by the fact that it points ahead to the highest good. Even self-love (amor sui) has its place according to Augustine. For when we are told, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” this suggests that man is also to love himself. Augustine introduced this idea into the dilectio ordinata doctrine. One should love his own life according to its worth in the scale of value.

But the amor sui concept also meant other things to Augustine. It might be used as a synonym for love in general, inasmuch as all love is basically amor sui—a concentration upon one’s own welfare or upon the highest destiny. It was in this sense that Augustine said that proper self-love is to love God and deny oneself.

But amor sui can also be used to designate a false kind of self-love, in which man seeks only his own pleasure, and loves himself instead of God. Such love is one facet of human cupiditas, and as such it is opposed to the true form of love. In Augustine’s writings, therefore, amor sui can be understood in three different ways: as legitimate, “well-ordered” self-love; as concentration upon the highest destiny (in this sense the term is synonymous with amor Dei); or as a false self-love.

The decisive contrast is to be found between caritas and cupiditas. As a created being, man is obliged to seek for his good outside of himself. In his corrupt condition, he seeks for it in the world, in temporal things and pleasures. Sin is precisely this, that the deepest concentration of the human will is diverted from God to the world, so that man loves the creation instead of the Creator. The change which takes place in conversion is that cupiditas, the improper love of the world, is transformed into caritas. Such a man is saturated with the love of God.

Man is unable to bring about this change by himself. He is captive to his desire for temporal good. If the love of God is to be awakened within him, it must come to him from the outside as a gift. It must be “infused” into him (infusio caritatis), an expression which Augustine derived from Rom. 5:5: “God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.” Man can overcome his love of the world only after the love of God has been given to him.

Did Augustine understand this infusion of love in a physical sense, as the conferring of a power? He has been interpreted in this way, chiefly by the liberal school of theology, which generally proceeds on the basis of the physical-ethical antithesis. But this conclusion is not correct. Grace and love are poured into man’s life, but this is done through the Holy Spirit, not in any magical way. In fact, it can be said that the caritas which is bestowed on man is coincident with the Holy Spirit. It is God who gives Himself to man, and it is through His presence that man is filled with the kind of love which enables him to overcome evil desires.

In later Roman Catholic theology this infused grace is conceived of as an inner power, which is conferred through the sacraments. As a result, this is frequently thought of as a magical, supernatural occurrence. But it cannot be said that the personal, ethical way of looking at things is lacking in the writings of Augustine. Grace is looked upon as a real transforming power, and this power is God Himself, the Spirit who is given through faith in Christ.

The Incarnation was necessary for salvation. The Cross of Christ tells us that God debased Himself even to death for man’s sake. It is this alone which can break human pride (superbia). Pride holds us captive in ourselves, and this is the cause of our misfortune and unhappiness. Nothing can break these bonds except the humility of Christ, which provides us with an example and a remedy for our superbia.

Augustine brought two lines of thought together into a synthesis: salvation results from God’s work, His prevenient grace, and His coming down to us in the incarnation of Christ; this is the one major idea. The other is characterized by the caritas-cupiditas dialectic: the striving after the highest good, which is hidden in every man. This striving is corrupted by an improper love of the world and the self, and it must, as a result, be redirected to its highest goal and so find satisfaction in the Christian love of God. Thus it was that Augustine combined a basic Neoplatonic concept (the eros doctrine) with the Christian doctrine of salvation in an attempt to provide answers to man’s deepest questions and at the same time to summarize the content of the Christian Gospel. (Cf. Anders Nygren’s Eros and Agape, trans. Philip S. Watson [London: SPCK, 1953], II, 449–562)

Augustine’s Doctrine of the Church

With respect to the doctrine of the church, Augustine continued to develop the Western tradition which had originated, above all, with Cyprian. It has been possible to interpret Augustine’s position in a variety of ways. This can be illustrated by the fact that both the hierarchical concept and the antipapal tendencies of the Middle Ages found support in Augustine’s ecclesiology.

What prompted Augustine to develop his concept of the church more carefully was the Donatist controversy, which had had a divisive influence on the church in North Africa ever since the end of the third century. It might be said that Donatism was the first significant “free church” movement. Some of its ideas are remindful of Cyprian and Novatian (see above), as well as of the more ancient separatist tendencies.

This schism, which took its name from Donatus the Great, bishop of Carthage (d. 332), began during the Diocletian persecution. Certain practical questions related to the persecution formed the basis of the difficulty. For example: should copies of the Scriptures be surrendered to the heathen? The stricter party said no, that the Scriptures should not be so surrendered. Others took a milder view and said that such an action could not be called treachery. But when this latter opinion was injected into an episcopal election in Carthage, the opposing group rallied their forces and elected their own bishop. The schism continued from that point, and eventually the entire church in North Africa was divided. At times more than half of the bishops in that area belonged to the Donatist party. Donatus was one of the bishops of Carthage who upheld the stricter point of view.

Originally this controversy also involved a personal question: a bishop of Carthage had been consecrated by one who had surrendered the Scriptures during a period of persecution. The stricter party was of the opinion that such an act was invalid. Subsequently the controversy was expanded to include the question of valid baptism, of the holiness of the church, etc. The Donatists formed their own church body, which they held to be the only true church. This group grew extensively in North Africa, but only there. Augustine, too, became involved in this controversy. In a series of writings he refuted the Donatist point of view and went so far as to say that the secular powers ought to assist in forcing the Donatists back into the church. Discussions were held with the Donatists in Carthage in the year 411, and from that point on the movement began to diminish in numbers and influence. Finally it died out altogether. But essentially the same attitude as that held by the Donatists has come up time after time in the history of the church. Sectarian or free-church points of view are generally based on a Donatistic ecclesiology. For this reason the struggle between Augustine and the Donatists is of great significance also from the point of view of principle.

The Donatists perpetuated the old pneumatic tradition: the only valid incumbents are those who possess the gifts of the Spirit. Like Cyprian, they associated the office and the Spirit, and concluded that the bishop’s office possesses the gifts of the Spirit. They recognized as true bishops only those who demonstrated by their blameless lives and their gifts that they were bearers of the Spirit. This position, in itself, need not have given rise to a schism. But later on it was also concluded that the pastoral acts of an unworthy bishop are invalid. Those ordained by such a man could not, as a result, be true bishops. Those baptized by an unworthy, heretical incumbent are not properly baptized, inasmuch as such pastors do not have the gifts of the Spirit. Donatism therefore represented a point of view which used to be called theologia regenitorum: the spiritual influence of (for example) the sacraments was thought to depend on the holiness of the officiating clergy. (The opposite: theologia irregenitorum)

The position of the Donatists as reflected in the above-mentioned practical questions was related to their concept of the church. They conceived of the church as a fellowship of saints. And inasmuch as the existing church tolerated hypocrites and those who had once fallen away or had a milder view about penance, it was necessary to sever connections with this church. The Donatists insisted that those who left the existing church to affiliate with their own organization had to be rebaptized. Only the ordination given by approved bishops was held to be valid. Like Cyprian, the Donatists emphasized the importance of the Spirit-filled episcopacy, but since they also agreed with Novatian in thinking of the church as a fellowship of pure saints, they became separatistic.

One of Augustine’s predecessors in the fight against Donatism was Optatus of Mileve, to whom he dedicated one of his polemical writings. In a number of writings produced around the year 400 (e.g., De baptismo), Augustine set forth his major ideas on the question of the church and the sacraments in opposition to Donatistic doctrines.

The chief problem in this controversy had to do with the validity of baptism and ordination. As noted above, the Donatists insisted on rebaptizing those who joined their church. They argued, in this connection, that only one who was truly holy could provide a valid and effective baptism; only thus could the baptized be sanctified. In opposition to this, Augustine maintained that the church had to recognize as valid even the baptism performed by a schismatic. For baptism is, in itself, a sacred act, and it is not dependent upon the holiness of the one who gives it. “There is a great difference between an apostle and a drunkard; but there is no difference at all between a Christian baptism performed by an apostle and a Christian baptism performed by a drunkard …. There is no difference between a Christian baptism performed by an apostle and that performed by a heretic” (Epistle 93, 48). “The water used in a heretical baptism is not adulterated; for God’s creation is not in itself evil, and the Gospel’s Word ought not be faulted by any false teacher.” (De baptismo, IV, 24)

Through baptism a man is marked as belonging to Christ; he receives a character dominicus, just as slaves and cattle are marked to show that they are the property of a certain individual. In the same sense, baptism implies that a man belongs to Christ. This mark is—in the medieval term—indelible (character indelebilis). The same holds true for the ordination of pastors and the consecration of bishops. Therefore, according to this point of view, rebaptism is never necessary, and neither is reordination. Augustine, therefore, was a representative of a theologia irregenitorum (see above).

In this respect Augustine was at odds with Cyprian. The latter held that only a baptism performed within the church, where the Spirit is to be found, could be effective for salvation. And therefore a heretical baptism would not be valid, and those who came to the church from a heretical background must be rebaptized.

Is it true, then, that Augustine made no distinction between a schismatic baptism and a baptism performed in the church? He definitely believed that both baptismal acts were equally valid, but, like Cyprian, he also felt that only the church’s baptism had a redemptive influence. Baptism confers the forgiveness of sin and regeneration only where men adhere to the one church. For it is only within the church that the Holy Spirit is given, and with Him the gift of love (caritas). Augustine solved the problem of combining these two thoughts by distinguishing between the sacrament itself and the efficacy of the sacrament (something which Cyprian did not do). “The sacrament is one thing; the efficacy of the sacrament is another thing.” The effect of the sacrament, which can be found only where the unity of the church is preserved, is love. “No one has the love of God who does not love the unity of the church, and because of this it is correct to say that one can receive the Holy Spirit only in the Catholic Church” (De baptismo, III, 21). But the sacrament itself exists even if its efficacy does not: “The baptized person does not lose the sacrament of Baptism if he separates himself from the unity of the church. By the same token, an ordained man does not lose the sacrament to administer Baptism if he separates himself from the unity of the church” (De baptismo, I, 2). Baptized heretics receive Baptism in the same way as the righteous; but they do not have love.

Augustine used the word “sacrament” in a wider sense than we do. He did agree, however, that Baptism and the Lord’s Supper are the chief sacraments. They have come to us from Christ, and with the Word they form the basis of the church (el. John 19:34). Augustine drew a sharp line of distinction between the external signs, or elements, used in the sacraments and their spiritual meaning. In the same way, he also distinguished between the external Word and the Spirit who speaks in the Word. The external signs are symbols that point to the spiritual realities. Augustine conceived of spiritual efficacy as being parallel to the external reality. They belong together as a result of God’s command, but at the same time, they are distinct. This “symbolical” conception in Augustine’s thinking was derived from his Neoplatonic background. External things were deafly separated from the spiritual, and yet they could serve as symbols pointing to the divine, the means by which the divine comes near to us. The sacraments are external signs which contain a spiritual content. But they are not necessarily attached to these signs.

Opposition to Donatism also involved the concept of the church in general. As already mentioned, the Donatists thought of the church as consisting of perfect saints, a description which fits their group alone. Augustine objected by saying that they thereby restricted the church to Africa. As he saw it, the entire church of Christ is found in the entire world. This is the church based on the Word of Christ, in which His sacraments are administered. The ungodly and the hypocrites cannot be cast out of this group by other men. Those who belong to this church in an external sense must be considered a part of it, even though the Spirit or love are lacking in some. These do not belong to the communion of saints, to the church in the true sense of the term. According to Augustine, the true church is composed of the pious, those in whom the Spirit of God is at work and in whom He has ignited the flame of love, caritas. They are bound together by an inner, invisible fellowship, “the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” By virtue of their mutual concern, they give expression to the love poured out through the Spirit of Christ, and as a result they form a spiritual unity in Christ. They are the body of Christ. This inner church, held together by the invisible bonds of love, is not the equivalent of the external church organization—Christendom on earth. This, too, forms a community, a community of all who confess the name of Christ and partake of the sacraments. This external ecclesiastical community is constituted by the sacraments and is sanctified through Word and Sacrament. Its holiness does not consist in the holiness of the members or in the charisma of the clergy. In this church true Christians and hypocrites are found side by side, and they live together just as the weeds and the wheat grow together until the time of the harvest.

The church, therefore, meant two things to Augustine: the external organization and the communion of saints (or the community of true believers). These are not the same, for there are many who belong to the church in an external sense who are not numbered among the true believers. But they are nevertheless related, inasmuch as the communion of saints is always present within the external organization. The true faith can be found only where men live in churchly unity. Apart from this communion there is no salvation, for the Spirit of Christ is not to be found apart from it, and neither is love.

On occasions Augustine also referred to a third definition of the church, when he spoke of it as the numerus praedestinatorum. This group of believers coincides neither with the external organization nor with the communion of saints. It is not identical with Christendom either, for one can conceive of the fact that God may elect even those who are outside of the church (Job, who was not an Israelite, is mentioned here as an example) or who do not receive the sacraments (such as the penitent thief). Neither are the elect precisely the same as those who now belong to the community of believers. For it is possible that some of these will fall away in the future, inasmuch as they do not possess the gift of perseverance. The elect are those who have shared in grace and remained faithful to the end. That no man is able to see or judge who it is that belongs to the group of predestined is explained by the very nature of the case. Augustine’s threefold concept of the church can be illustrated in the following manner:
A. The external institution of salvation, Christendom.
B. The communion of saints, the bride of Christ, the invisible fellowship of love.
C. The predestined.

Augustine’s doctrine of the church was significant not only in relation to the Donatist controversy but also for his description of the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the world presented in his famous volume The City of God. Its 22 books, completed during the years 413 to 426, were written particularly as an apology directed against the heathen who blamed Christians for the misfortunes of society. It is also a description of world history, envisioned by Augustine as a struggle between two states or communities represented by heathendom and Christendom. “The city of God” and “the city of the world” are not presented here as two administrative units, whose power is to be regulated vis-à-vis one another, but rather as two societies, which have contended with each other from the beginning of time. This contention has determined the course of history and has formed its inner continuity. Both societies are held together by the bonds of love: in the one case there are persons who love God even to the point of self-contempt, and in the other, persons who love themselves to the point where they despise God. This difference was found even in the world of the angels (there were good angels and bad), and this same difference took form in the world of men beginning with Cain and Abel. We are told that Cain built a city, while Abel lived as a stranger on the earth. Through Christ, the godly society took concrete form in the church, the fellowship of believers, just as the earthly society has appeared in the form of the Roman Empire and other heathen states.

It would not be proper, therefore, to compare Augustine’s “city of God” and “city of the world” with the modern contrast between church and state. Augustine’s view was broader. He spoke of two lines of development, of two societies, which are active in the events of history. He was not simply referring to external powers or communities.

“The city of God” is not the external ecclesiastical organization or hierarchy, but above all the communion of saints, the inner church, which is hidden and yet concretely present in the external organization. “For the commonwealth of the saints is above, even though it provides citizens here below, who dwell here as strangers until the dominion of the heavenly commonwealth is manifested.” (The City of God, XV, 1)

By the same token, “the earthly city” is not identical with the state; it rather designates the society of evil and godless men, who have been the driving force behind the formation of the pagan state.

Augustine’ wrote this book primarily to defend the communion of saints against the pagan Roman state. This antithesis is of fundamental significance. The godly society is a spiritual fellowship of the pious believers. The earthly society is a fellowship of evil men, all the enemies of God. This did not mean, however, that Augustine was completely opposed to the secular state. He recognized, for example, that even an evil, pagan state, which in itself embodies the earthly city, is of value, inasmuch as it supports external order and thus provides certain benefits. He also referred to the Christian state as the ideal, for it not only provides the external structure but also serves at the same time as a means by which the kingdom of God can grow and advance. The goal of such a state is found in the kingdom of God; in itself it is but a means of promoting the Kingdom. It is therefore in principle subordinate to the kingdom of God and is obligated to obey its laws.

It can be seen from the foregoing that the relation between “the city of God” and “the earthly city” is the same as that between caritas and cupiditas. Cupiditas is something evil, for it loves only the world and forgets God. This does not mean, however, that all love for temporal things is reprehensible. But this love must be subordinated to the higher love, and it must use temporal things as a means for reaching the higher level. In the same sense, the earthly state is not evil in itself but it may become so. For if the state becomes an end in itself, or if it becomes the only society in which men are involved, or if it is directed only toward earthly advantage—then it becomes evil. If, on the other hand, a state is controlled by Christian laws and is subordinate to the fellowship of believers as its highest goal, for the achievement of which it serves as a means—then it fulfills its God-given function. Then the state assumes the position designed for it, and is good and useful both in the service of secular purposes and for the growth and development of the kingdom of God.

“The city of God” is not, therefore, the equivalent of the external church, but neither did Augustine conceive of these entities as being antithetical. Those who believe in Christ, who are filled with His Spirit and who live in God’s love, share in a spiritual fellowship. It is through this group of faithful that Christ brings His kingdom to victory. As such, this group is representative of Christ’s dominion on earth. And while this inner community is invisible, it is at the same time a tangible association, a “life of the saints together.” “The city of God” can also be identified with the kingdom of God, in so far as this has been realized here on earth. But this “city” will at some time in the future blend into the eternal kingdom, which lies beyond the boundaries of time and which involves the perfection of the communion of saints.

As far as the relationship between the godly state and the earthly state are concerned, Augustine maintained that the latter ought to be subject to the former. This is consistent with the general presuppositions. The earthly state has been designed only to serve earthly objectives. It exists for the sake of external order. In addition to this, the earthly state ought also support the community which includes God’s elect, the holy ones. The kingdom of God is the objective of the entire human race. And the earthly state should serve this purpose too, in the depths of its being, if it is to be a truly Christian state. This trend of thought does not, in itself, imply that the state should be subject to the church (the external ecclesiastical structure, that is), for Augustine is speaking here of the communities themselves and their inner purposes. During the Middle Ages, however, Augustine’s thought was interpreted to mean that the state is subject to the church, and The City of God did form the basis of the doctrine of papal supremacy over secular authority. Emperors and kings were said to have received their power from the pope, and it was the pope’s privilege, therefore, to establish them in their orifices. Augustine did not endorse this concept of ecclesiastical rule, but there was nothing to prevent such a development. Augustine did, as a matter of fact, feel that the fellowship of believers is manifested in the external ecclesiastical clergy and organization, and he drew no specific line of demarcation between “the city of God,” the inner spiritual community, and the external structure of the church. The former presupposes the latter. The hierarchical concept therefore represents a reinterpretation of Augustine’s point of view, but it is at the same time a logical extension of certain facets of his theology.

Augustine’s Doctrine of Sin and Grace

There is a certain inner analogy between, on the one hand, the Trinitarian and the Christological controversies which raged in the East during the fourth and fifth centuries and, on the other, the Pelagian controversy in the West during the fifth century. Both involved the same question: What is the basis of our salvation? Subsequent to the repudiation of Arianism and the monarchical heresies, the following argument came to the fore: If Christ is not true God, He cannot save man; if He is not true God and true man in one person, He cannot free man from the dominion of sin and death. In a similar manner, Augustine asserted, in opposition to Pelagius, that salvation is God’s own work; it is not of human origin. In the one controversy, the major question was concerned about the relationship between the divine and human natures in Christ; in the other, about the relationship between God’s grace and man’s free will (cf. Ragnar Bring, Kristendomstolkningar, 1950, p. 230 f.). Just as Athanasius taught that Christ is truly God, so that the work which He carried out is God’s own work, so also did Augustine teach that it is the grace of God alone which can accomplish man’s salvation. But for Augustine this was not a purely theological question; it also had anthropological overtones. In Western theology the doctrine of sin and grace, like the doctrine of the church, came to occupy the center of interest.

Pelagius, a native of Ireland, appeared in Rome shortly before the year 400 as a very strict preacher of penitence. Later he worked in North Africa also. Caelestius was one of his disciples, and somewhat later Julian of Eclanum became the foremost representative of Pelagianism. Pelagianism was widely accepted, but it also elicited strong opposition, especially in Augustine, who wrote against it. The Eastern theologians were also persuaded to reject Pelagius, and at the Council of Ephesus in 431 (where Nestorianism was condemned) the Pelagian point of view was repudiated as heretical.

In his preaching, Pelagius appealed to man’s free will. He assumed that man of himself has the ability to choose between good and evil. He felt that if man did not believe that he was able to carry out God’s commands he never would be able to do so, and as a result would never change for the better. It would be futile to expect man to do what appears impossible.

In the theology of the early church the idea of the freedom of the will was a basic presupposition both in the West and among the Greeks. The preaching of the Law was done with this in mind; so also with the process of rearing and educating. Apart from this freedom one could not hold man responsible for his acts; neither could his transgressions incur guilt.

But in the controversy between Augustine and Pelagius this entire question of the freedom of the will entered a new stage and became one of the main issues in the question of salvation itself—the problem of sin and grace. In the mind of Pelagius, the freedom of the will was given much more significance than in the earlier tradition. To him it was not simply man’s ability to choose and act in freedom (not simply a formal or psychological freedom, to use more modern terminology). It also implied, as far as Pelagius was concerned, that man was free to choose between good and evil; if confronted by a number of alternatives, he might choose the right way to act as well as the evil way.

In other words, man has the possibility and the freedom to decide in favor of the good. Sin, according to Pelagius, consists only in isolated acts of the will. If a man wills what is evil, he sins. But there is nothing to prevent him from choosing the good, thereby avoiding sin. Pelagius rejected the idea that sin should be thought of in terms of man’s nature or character. Sin is not a fault of nature but of the will. As a result, he also refused to accept the teaching of original sin. Sin consists only of what man does, and because of this it cannot be transmitted by heredity, it cannot be implicit in nature. Pelagius was able to assert human responsibility only on these terms; he could envision man’s improvement only against such a background. Small children, who are unable consciously to choose that which is evil, are therefore free of sin, according to Pelagius. As a result, Baptism need not imply deliverance from sin.

Pelagius also contended that man, generally speaking, can advance toward sinlessness, that one can increasingly avoid evil and choose the good. How then did he explain the universality of sin? Why does free man so often choose what is evil? Confronted by such questions, Pelagius referred to mankind’s long-standing habit of sinning (longa consuetudo vitiorum). Because of repeated acts of the will, man’s propensity to sin has been increased.

But man is nevertheless able to choose the good by an act of the will. Does he then have no need of the grace of God? No, not even Pelagius would say that; he, too, spoke of grace, although not in the same way as Augustine. To the latter, grace is something that alters the will of man, which fills him with love for God and thereby changes the entire direction of his will. To Pelagius, God’s grace means that man has been equipped from the beginning with a will that is free to choose the good. The work of grace is a benefit of nature (bonum naturae). Furthermore, God’s grace facilitates the choosing process and enables man to attain that which is good. This assistance is provided through the preaching of the Law and through the example of Christ, as well as by the forgiveness of sin, which enables a man to continue his course without being encumbered by the past. It is necessary, therefore, that man’s will be supported by God’s grace. But at the same time man is able to choose the good of and by himself.

Augustine was sharply opposed to such ideas. His concept of freedom and of sin and grace was presented in a number of writings directed against Pelagianism (cf. De spiritu et littera, 412; De natura et gratia, 415; and Contra Julianum, 421). The controversy was concerned for the most part with the following points: the freedom of the will, original sin, the acquisition of salvation, grace and predestination.

As seen from one point of view, this entire facet of Augustine’s theology constitutes a description of man and of man’s position relative to God. At the same time, however, Augustine’s theological anthropology was also inserted into his teaching of the order of salvation. Chief attention is given to God’s dealings with man and to man’s varied conditions in the course of that event which is known as God’s plan of salvation for the world. Statements concerning the freedom of the will and the work of grace are conditioned by the different stages in which man has found himself in his development from creation to perfection. Augustine distinguishes four such stages, inasmuch as he speaks of man ante legem, sub lege, sub gratia, and in pace (or, in more recent terminology, “before the fall,” “after the fall,” “after conversion” and “in perfection”).

In the so-called original state, i.e., at the time when the first man was created, man possessed a full measure of freedom. His will was then free not only in the realm of action; it was also able to choose between good and evil. In other words, man then possessed freedom in the formal sense as well as the ability to choose the good. This kind of freedom implied, therefore, the ability to refrain from sin (posse non peccare). This ability was not man’s because of his natural endowment; it was his only because of the assistance of divine grace. It was prima gratia alone which gave man the freedom to choose the good.

But freedom also contains the possibility of a fall, and the first sin was occasioned by free will. The Fall implies that man, in a spirit of arrogance, turned himself away from God and set himself in the direction of evil. Caritas was replaced with cupiditas in man’s life. Man thereby lost the gift of grace, and with it the freedom which constituted the ability to choose the good. For when grace was lost, human nature was altered. Reason and will no longer control the baser powers of the soul; on the other hand, these powers have assumed a dominating position, and man, as a result, has been ensnared in the toils of desire and driven by concupiscence. This is a condition which he is powerless to change. In isolated instances the will can overcome concupiscence, but the direction of the will nevertheless remains the same. Man is unable to overthrow the thralldom of concupiscence, because in this condition the world is the ultimate objective of his will, and God.

The Fall, therefore, means that man has lost the freedom to choose the good. In place of this, man now has a compulsion to sin (necessitas peccandi). His posse non peccare has been changed to non posse non peccare. Here is Augustine’s opposition to Pelagius. Augustine denied that man, after the Fall, continued to have a free will in the true sense, the freedom to choose the good, that is. He rather stands under conpulsion to sin, which is to say that he acts in such a way that corruption is inevitable. Isolated good deeds can be carried out, but these do not change the evil intent of his will. At the same time, however, Augustine did not deny freedom in a formal sense. His concept is not deterministic. Man acts freely. But his condition being what it is, man is free only to sin. In other words, his freedom is sharply limited, or distorted. Man’s tendency to choose the evil determines the course of his conduct and prevents him from doing the good. To be sure, man is free as far as individual acts of the will are concerned. At the same time, however, his basic attitude, shaped by his will, is something he cannot change—and to that extent he is not free.

Man’s evil volitional tendencies express themselves as concupiscence, or desire. But at the same time, the first sin was an offense (culpa) which incurred guilt before God. For this reason, original sin implies a perpetual condition of guilt (reatus). It is this guilt which is the essence of sin, or that which makes sin sin (its formale). Inherited guilt is removed by Baptism, so that original sin is no longer counted as sin. Nevertheless, one’s sinful condition remains even after Baptism; concupiscence, attributable to the influence of original sin, is still there. The nature of man itself is injured by the corruption implicit in original sin; it is, as a result, a “nature vitiated by sin.” Sin is not simply a series of isolated willful acts; it is a real corruption of nature, resulting from the fact that the direction of the will has itself been distorted. Luther emphasized this by saying that sin not only refers to outward acts; unbelief and enmity to God form its essence. In a similar manner, Augustine described sin as a perversion of the will. In this we see the main point at issue between him and Pelagius.

The claim that sin is implicit in human nature is suggested by the very idea that corruption is inherited. The first false step resulted from man’s free will. But the entire human race was involved in Adam’s fall. The Biblical Adam is “man” in general; all are epitomized in him, so that all of his descendants form a unity in him. As a result, all share in Adam’s guilt, even though the presence of original sin in the individual is not dependent on an act of the will; it is there before the will begins to exert itself. The condition of guilt is inherited, and is removed from the individual through Baptism.

And so with human depravity; it, too, is inherited as a result of Adam’s disobedience. That is to say, that it is propagated in a real way from one generation to the next. Augustine believed that in and with natural propagation evil desire was also passed on from one generation to the next. In this way, mankind has become a massa perditionis. The entire race is in thrall to desire and afflicted by the corruption which results from it.

Furthermore, as Augustine understood it, our inherited sinful condition also makes us guilty before God; on the basis of original sin man is worthy of divine condemnation. In the light of this, Augustine concluded that unbaptized children are liable to damnation. Later Roman Catholic theology mitigated this assertion in various ways, and even Augustine suggested that the prayers of the family could in some cases replace Baptism. The concept of inherited sinfulness has often been misunderstood. Naturally enough it does not suggest a denial of childish innocence as seen from a purely human point of view. It is not a question of actual sin; it rather points to a condition in which man finds himself as a result of the perversion of his will. The doctrine of original sin also presupposes the unity of the human race in Adam. For how else could guilt or responsibility be ascribed to an individual for something he did not do? The Augustinian position in this matter does not distinguish between children and adults; the same offense applies to all. To think of original sin as imposing guilt is equally difficult in both cases. It must be assumed, in this connection, that original sin as such lies beyond the boundaries of empirical knowledge and therefore cannot be appraised from the point of view of the experience which reason has at its command.

In his doctrine of original sin, Augustine describes sin as a condition which involves the entire man; it is not just isolated acts. Sin is the turning away of the will from God (perversitas voluntatis a summa substantia). This intimates that evil is something negative, lacking in substance, and cut off from God’s fellowship, but at the same time something that implies guilt and produces depravity in no uncertain terms.

In connection with this concept of sin, it is logical to conclude that after the Fall man’s will has been incapable of the good. To be sure, man can occasionally do that which is good and useful here on earth. But as long as the perversion of the will holds sway, this cannot be something truly good, for man himself remains evil and his actions are directed at that which leads to corruption. This doctrine of the unfree will (which should not be confused with determinism) implies that man is unable to cooperate in the interest of his salvation.

That which is the only source of man’s salvation, the grace of God, was revealed in the work of Christ. He made atonement for our sins, and through faith in Him man can share in grace. This is the only road to right living: “What the Law commands, faith accomplishes” (Quod lex imperat, fides impetrat. De spiritu et littera, 13, 22). The function of grace consists partly in the forgiveness of sin, partly in regeneration.

Through the work of mediation carried out by Christ, the broken fellowship with God has been restored. Guilt is removed through the forgiveness of sin, and man recovers the spiritual life which was lost through the Fall. As Augustine understood it, salvation is found in the forgiveness of sin, and grace is the loving will of God which works this forgiveness.

But grace does not only remove sin; it also brings about man’s regeneration. Human nature is actually depraved by sin. This injury can be healed only by grace (gratia sanans). Life returns when man’s relationship to God is restored. Grace creates a new will in man. This implies an “infusion of love” (infusio caritatis). The evil will, oriented toward the world, is replaced by a good will, by caritas. As a result, man can obey God’s commands; formerly, he was unable to do so. His freedom, i.e., his ability to do good, is restored (libertas restituta). As long as earthly life lasts, this freedom is merely beginning. For in this life man must fight against desire and is restored only by degrees. What can bring about the good in man? Only love, the new will. Without the assistance of grace, man can never do that which is good. As a result, the fulfilling of the Law, which God requires, is possible only as God Himself supplies the power. “Give what you command, and command what you will” (Da quod jubes, et jube quod vis. Confessions, X, 29). Such love goes together with faith. To believe in God is to love Him and to hope one day to see Him. Faith, hope, and love belong together; they are the essentials of Christianity.

Salvation results from the forgiveness of sin, by faith, quite apart from human merit. There is nothing that man can do by himself to bring about this salvation. This was Augustine’s main argument against Pelagius; Augustine took this basic idea from Paul, whose teaching of justification by faith had a decisive influence on Augustine. Man’s will is incapable of good, and therefore salvation must be God’s own work. But for Augustine grace includes the regeneration of man. Man’s will is altered, love is poured into him; as a result of this, man can truly do that which is good and can become God’s co-worker in faith. As seen from certain points of view, Augustine appears to say that this regeneration is the goal. God’s love (caritas) is the presupposition of man’s salvation. This interpretation of Paul is somewhat different from that of the Reformers. According to Luther and the Lutheran tradition, it is only faith in Christ and His merits which justifies man; human works do not enter in. Augustine, too, said that man is saved by faith, but this faith also does that which is good; it is connected with and expresses itself in caritas. Deeds that originate in love are thought of as being meritorious and will eventually be rewarded. But Augustine also emphasized at the same time that such merit can be won only by grace. Said he, “When God rewards our merits, He is actually rewarding His own gifts.” (Epistle 194, 19)

Augustine did not say, however, that forgiving grace is the only cause and presupposition of salvation; he also recognized the importance of the love which God pours into man’s heart. The actual basis of salvation is grace alone (not man’s free will), but that which is of note in the work of grace is not so much the “alien” righteousness of Christ which is imputed to us but rather the change which takes place in the life of the newborn individual because of the love of God which has been poured into him.

Augustine’s opposition to Pelagius was expressed most strongly in his doctrine of predestination. The grace which is the sole source of man’s salvation is God’s loving will; it is, at the same time, almighty. The omnipotence of this grace implies that a man’s salvation depends solely on God’s will and decree. God in eternity chose certain men to be snatched out of the corrupted masses and to share in His salvation. The work of grace in the order of salvation is therefore the execution in time of God’s eternal, hidden decree. Augustine based this conclusion on Rom. 8:30: “And those whom He predestined He also called; and those whom He called He also justified; and those whom He justified He also glorified.”

The ultimate basis of human salvation, therefore, is not to be found in our merits or free will but rather in the will of God. To Augustine, this meant that those who have been chosen will one day be saved. Those who once come to believe cannot conceivably fall away. Grace supplies them not only with faith but also with the gift of perseverance (donum perseverantiae). This trend of thought has given, rise to a consideration of what is called “irresistible grace” (gratia irresistibilis; the term itself was not used until later). Augustine even believed that the predestined can be found outside of the church. Such persons, he maintained, would be saved by the power of grace operating apart from the available means. (Cf. above, p. 129)

Augustine also concluded in this connection that if one is not saved, this too has its basis in the will of God; God did not will salvation for such a person. For nothing can be done apart from God’s will and power. How can this idea be related to the claim that “God is love”? Such questions cannot be answered. The words in 1 Tim. 2:4, God “desires all men to be saved” (which have been difficult for all who teach double predestination), were interpreted by Augustine to refer only to all “classes” or “kinds” of men.

Augustine’s doctrine of predestination represents the ultimate consequence of what he believed about grace as the sole basis of man’s salvation. Later theology has not usually followed him in drawing such conclusions. The teachings of irresistible grace and double predestination have been more often than not rejected. These ideas have continued to provide sharp competition for Pelagian tendencies, however, and they have often been accepted by theologians who have wanted to be consistently faithful to Augustine on this point.

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