[1] http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0192833723/thinkblogorg-20

Augustine: Confessions II.iv.9

I find echoes of Lewis from Mere Christianity here: Augustine illustrates the awareness of natural law in every man’s heart by pointing to the thief who cannot abide being stolen from; Lewis mentions two chilren, one of whom cuts in front of the other in line or who takes more than his share. No one, says Lewis, need be taught that that is an instance of unfairness.

Performing wicked acts is rewarding in and of itself to the unsaved. This is another instance that illustrates why drug addiction is such a good picture of sin itself: the more evil we do, the more we wish to do; and there is a certain rush in doing wicked things (e.g., stealing, as Augustine points out), regardless of the outcome.

I think Augustine’s description of how he “loved the self destruction, [he] loved [his] fall, not the object for which I had fallen but the fall itself” is echoed in the attitudes of many who are apart from God, whether they be Christians or not. I know Christians suffering apart from the brightness and love of God—at least the experience thereof—who are unwilling or at least reluctant to turn because they love their own angst, that rush of pain and personal anguish by which they pity themselves and feel more “alive.” I would know, I did that my first year in college: when the sick taint of damnable acts turns one’s stomach, there can be no doubt that (1) one is alive and (2) that God exists and is holy, because the rancor of conviction is like the smell of death so pungent there can be no question as to the functionality of one’s nose. The beloved fall, for unbelievers, is simply a rush as when one jumps for a high place and his stomach leaps into his throat. But there seems to be some kind of connection between the existential paradigms of this day and the revelling in one’s own pain some Christians perform. (This could be, on the other hand, due to something wholly separate from existentialism or postmodern thought, but this remains my tentative hypothesis for the time being.)

I found information on Catiline (mentioned in Chadwick’s footnotes as being the type of villain Augustine was trying to describe himself), but it was in Latin(!); nevertheless, I caught the drift from the brief introduction on the page. http://users.ipa.net/~tanker/catiline.htm

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References.
Augustine, St. Confessions. Henry Chadwick, trans. ISBN [2] 0-19-283372-3 (Paperback).

[3] http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0192833723/thinkblogorg-20

Augustine: Confessions II.iv.9

I find echoes of Lewis from Mere Christianity here: Augustine illustrates the awareness of natural law in every man’s heart by pointing to the thief who cannot abide being stolen from; Lewis mentions two chilren, one of whom cuts in front of the other in line or who takes more than his share. No one, says Lewis, need be taught that that is an instance of unfairness.

Performing wicked acts is rewarding in and of itself to the unsaved. This is another instance that illustrates why drug addiction is such a good picture of sin itself: the more evil we do, the more we wish to do; and there is a certain rush in doing wicked things (e.g., stealing, as Augustine points out), regardless of the outcome.

I think Augustine’s description of how he “loved the self destruction, [he] loved [his] fall, not the object for which I had fallen but the fall itself” is echoed in the attitudes of many who are apart from God, whether they be Christians or not. I know Christians suffering apart from the brightness and love of God—at least the experience thereof—who are unwilling or at least reluctant to turn because they love their own angst, that rush of pain and personal anguish by which they pity themselves and feel more “alive.” I would know, I did that my first year in college: when the sick taint of damnable acts turns one’s stomach, there can be no doubt that (1) one is alive and (2) that God exists and is holy, because the rancor of conviction is like the smell of death so pungent there can be no question as to the functionality of one’s nose. The beloved fall, for unbelievers, is simply a rush as when one jumps for a high place and his stomach leaps into his throat. But there seems to be some kind of connection between the existential paradigms of this day and the revelling in one’s own pain some Christians perform. (This could be, on the other hand, due to something wholly separate from existentialism or postmodern thought, but this remains my tentative hypothesis for the time being.)

I found information on Catiline (mentioned in Chadwick’s footnotes as being the type of villain Augustine was trying to describe himself), but it was in Latin(!); nevertheless, I caught the drift from the brief introduction on the page. http://users.ipa.net/~tanker/catiline.htm

---

References.
Augustine, St. Confessions. Henry Chadwick, trans. ISBN [4] 0-19-283372-3 (Paperback).