Augustine Overcomes Materialism

By Susan J. Fleck.  March, 1995.

The confession of evil works is the first beginning of good works. – Saint Augustine.

If sensuality were happiness, beasts were happier than men, but human felicity is lodged in the soul, not in the flesh. – Seneca.

God is more truly imagined than expressed, and He exists more truly than he is imagined. –Saint Augustine.

God enters by a private door into every individual. –Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Augustine Struggles

“Since nothing in existence could exist without you [God], does it therefore follow that everything that exists must contain you?  I too exist.  Why then do I ask you to enter into me?  For unless you were in me, I could not exist . . . .  Or where can you come from to enter into me?  . . . . You fill the heaven and the earth.  Do they therefore contain you?” (3, I-6)  These were some of the typical questions that Augustine was struggling with, that, indeed, many of us ask in our lifetime.  One of Augustine’s main battles was confronting and eliminating his assumption of a materialist view of the universe.  This paper will explain why this assumption was so prevalent within the three major world views in his time: Epicurianism, Stoicism, and Academic Skepticism.  We will then examine the history of Augustine’s liberation from his darkness of unknowing.

Epicurian Materialism

Melcher describes fundamental aspects of Epicurianism which demonstrates its hard core materialism.  Epicurus maintains that natural science is the key to removing fear and obtaining happiness.  Once man understands the makeup of the world, he can see that good and evil are merely measurements of pleasure and pain, and therefore, pleasure is the foundation for happiness.  The common religions of his day was the source of dreadful stories of the dead, of people caught in a material nightmare, such as Sisyphus having to incessantly roll a rock up a hill and have it crash down again and again. (1, 186)   These beliefs in meddling and vengeful gods were the source of man’s fears.  Epicurus’ gods have no influence over man’s affairs, so we do not need to fear them, nor are they worthy of any worship, and furthermore, since the soul is material and disintegrates with the body, then death is of no concern for us, since  “. . . all good and evil lie in sensation and sensation end with death.” (1, 187)

Cicero’s Velleius advises how man can get rid of the idea of divine intervention by considering . .

. . . the infinite immensity of boundless space in all directions. . . In this immensity of breadth and length  and height there swarms the infinite power of atoms beyond number. . .. . they cohere amongst themselves, and then are held together by a mutual attraction.  Thus are created all the shapes and forms of nature . . .  (2, 91)

Epicurianism ontology, we see, is the Atomism of Leucippus and Democritus which considers all of existence consisting of only atoms and void, where all entities are merely temporary hookings together of atoms.  These atoms impact our senses by the way of a kind of throwing off little eidola, which are pictures, or representations, of the atoms themselves.  The soul is material, albeit made of very fine atoms, and the gods are also composed of atoms, but of the very finest of atoms such that they dwell between the worlds.  These gods do not want to jeopardize their immortality, so they stay clear of man to minimize the chance of harming themselves by bumping into mans’ grosser atoms.  Thus we can see why these gods are not at all interested in human affairs.  This ontology dictates that whatever happens is mechanistically determined to happen according to the laws by which atoms hook together.  Epicurus modifies this aspect to allow for free will such that we might pursue our pleasures:  he posits that sometimes these atoms swerve unaccountably.  (1, 186)

Stoic Harmony with Nature

While Epicureans want to use their free will to pursue personal pleasure, Stoics profess a need to keep their wills in harmony with nature.  Melcher points out how the Stoics have an empiricist view in that whatever exists is material and that our only certainties come from sense experience.  However, this material world is not merely atoms hooked together, but rather it is a unified whole ordered by a rational principle, a logos.  This whole totality, then, is divine and the Stoic god is immanent in the world.(1, 191)  Cicero’s Balbus uses the argument from design and concludes a presupposed harmony in the universe, contending that it is preserved throughout by one omnipresent, divine spirit.  Balbus describes a kind of hierarchy of values, in which the whole is related to its parts, to infer other qualities of the divine such as rationality, eternality, wisdom, and consciousness.(2, 131) Heat, he further expounds, is the glue by which the universe maintains its homeostasis, and which is the substance which quickens into conscious life within creatures.  “. . . this universal fire,” Balbus declares, “is not stirred up from without, but is moved only from within by the power of its own will.” (2, 135)

Other popular beliefs of the day were folded into the umbrella of Stoicism, making it a widely accepted and tolerant philosophy.  Since the circle epitomized the ‘model of perfect symmetry’, it followed, to the Stoics, that there is something special about the heavenly bodies and their movements, therefore astrology was given credence.  Stoicism also provided for veneration of gods by turning them into various aspects of the universe.  Balbus explains an almost Platonic view of gods in that the gods “. . . have no bodies such as ours, vulnerable to accident and injury. . . . But the gods in which we believe are clothed in the most beautiful of forms and dwell in the purest regions of the heavens . . .”  (2, 146)   Gods were given the name of substances, such as corn and wine, and also of qualities, such as faith, hope and reason.

Balbus portrays a Master Artist, in explaining how Stoicism metaphysics differs from Epicurianism:

But when we Stoics say that the universe is formed and governed by nature, we do not mean that it is just stuck together mechanically, like a lump of earth or a piece of stone or something of that sort, but organically, like a tree or an animal, in which there is nothing haphazard but an appearance of order which is akin to art. . . . But all of them together comprise a single nature and a universal continuum. . . . the harmony of the universe . . . from these natural elements, of which all things are made, in their movement up and down and to and for.  This universal harmony must either continue to all eternity . . . or at least endure for a long and almost infinite period of time.     (2, 156, 157)

If one would ask Balbus why, for whose sake, was this marvelous universe created, he would respond:  “Surely for those living creatures who are endowed with reason .  . [the universe] has been created for the gods and for mankind.” (2, 177)   The gods not only care for mankind as a whole, but for each and every individual.  We can see the attraction to Stoicism when we compare it with St. Pauls’ saying about God “in whom we live and move and have our being.”   This ontology leads to the Stoic ethics of accepting what unfolds in this teleological art-world, a kind of a ‘letting go and letting God’ attitude, but with the proviso that our wills are in line with the harmony of nature.

Academic Skepticism

We have reviewed two opposing forms of materialism, so let us turn to Academic Skepticism, the third prevailing viewpoint of Cicero’s time.  Even the skeptics did not question materialism: they did not even think in those terms since this thinking was so pervasive, i.e., whatever exists is simply a composite of basic material things; whatever exists is either matter or entirely dependent on matter.  What distinguished the Academics was, though they thought there was a natural, sensual basis for reality, they just did not think you could get at and know the underlying reality of just what this was.  Cicero’s Cotta would agree that it is not valid to assume the mind can figure things out, i.e., from a God’s eye point of view. (4, Feb. 2 & 21)

The problems of knowledge, according to the skeptics, relates to our modes of perception and to the criterion which serves as a basis for claims to knowledge and truth.  For example, the sense organs of animals differ among species.  Or take the fact that one person likes broccoli and another doesn’t: this points out how men are differently affected by the same things.  Melchert articulates how a skeptic considers claims about how things really are, independently of their appearance to our senses - these claims are dogmatic since one must lapse into either arguments of infinite regress or circular reasoning to attempt to support such claims.(1, 196)  For example, Cotta argues against the Epicurean’s metaphysics: 

But to start with, these atoms do not exist.  A thing that has no mass is nothing.  In the second place the whole of space is filled with matter, from which it follows there can be no void and no individual atoms.  (2, 95)

While the skeptics subscribe to the view of knowledge originating in the senses, they think that you would still get variations in different ‘evolutions’ of society.  In other words, they do not have the empiricist flaw in which everyone should come to the same conclusions based on evidence and classifications of knowledge.(4, Feb. 9)   But what is valuable and practical for man, is processed knowledge, based on the validity of our senses. (4, Feb. 2)   Cotta questions Balbus why he had to argue at such great length about harmony in the universe, when he had said that the matter needed no argument because it was obvious and generally agreed.  Cotta declared: “For me one [argument] was enough, that this was the traditional belief of our ancestors.” (2, 196)  The skeptical school gives rise to a practical relativism resulting in a very conservative view, providing for happiness by adapting to customs and laws which appear to be the best way to live.(1,198)   J. M. Ross summarizes the skeptical position:

If one cannot reach truth one must at least make decisions, and after hearing both sides of a question one can at least determine what is the reasonable course of action to pursue.  For a virtuous and happy life this is sufficient. . . . If we cannot have knowledge, surely we can have a lower degree of certainty; if we cannot reach truth, surely we can arrive at probability.   (2, 49)

Augustine's Search for Certainty

Augustine, however, was not satisfied with mere probability.  He sought true understanding of his faith, and his faith was come by a seemingly agonizing search for truth and certainty.  If this seems rather circular, it is, because Augustine’s quest started with the axiom of Christ, and wandered around the path through Epicurean earthly delights; the Manichean view of good and evil; Stoic acceptance of the impermanence of things; Academic skepticism and doubt that he ever could come to an understanding of the real nature of god and from whence evil came; the neoplatonic realization of the incorruptibility of good; and, finally, back to the bosom of Christ through Catholicism, with a radically new understanding of God and the universe.  This long path did not offer a turning point until Augustine realized he was steeped in materialism, which steered him in the wrong directions initially.  But once he threw off this assumption about the makeup of the universe, he was prepared to meet the love of his life, to whom he wrote his Confessions.  Let us look more closely at Augustine’s journey and how he rid himself of the materialist anchor.

Early in his life he was swayed by the love of career, prestige, money and lust, as he explains: “. . during all that time when, being turned away from you, the One, I lost myself in the distractions of the Many . . .” (3, II-1)   When he was introduced to Cicero, he was on fire for the “immortality of wisdom,” being held back only by “the name of Christ [which] was not there.” (3, III-4)   Although he was weaned on the name of Christ, when he turned to the Scriptures at this juncture, this did not satisfy his thirst, for he found them to be lacking in the sophistication of Cicero and of his great intellect, and he was too proud to “become a little child.” (3, III-5)   The Manichees tempted him saying:  “. . . it would be better to love the actual sun, which is real to our sight at least, than those false fantasies . . . . since I thought that these were you, I fed on them . . .” (3, III-5)   At this stage, he thought of God as something with parts extended in length and breadth.  He was also impressed with the authority of the astrologers, whom he thought were scientific, and whom did not make sacrifices and make prayers to spirits to assist them.  Within this scheme, all guilt was upon the creator and the stars, and Augustine could not be held accountable for his life and actions.  He discloses a further attraction to the Manichean doctrine:

And as in virtue I loved peace and in vice I hated discord, so I noted the unity in the one and the division, as it were, in the other, and it seemed to me that in the unity lay the rational mind and the nature of truth and the supreme good; but in the division I was wretched enough to imagine that I saw some sort of substance of the irrational life and a nature of the supreme evil, which was not only substance but actually life - yet not proceeding from my God . . .   (3, IV-15)

Then he lost his best friend to death and his thoughts turned to concepts of the whole versus the parts.  He talks to his soul:

Whenever you perceive through the flesh you perceive only in part, and you are ignorant of the whole, of which these are parts; yet still these parts delight you.  But if your bodily sense were capable of comprehending the whole - instead of being, for your punishment, justly restricted itself to a part of the universe - you would wish that everything in existence at the present moment would pass and go, so that you might have the greater pleasure of perceiving the entirety of things.  (3, IV-11)

This seems similar to the eastern philosophy of the Hindu moksha (release of the individual soul into the universal One being, Brahman), or the Buddhist nirvana (extinguishing the individual soul-flame and becoming one with the Universe).  This Stoic phase was probably inspired by the passing of his friend and the realization of the transience of things.  His was disenchanted with the Manichees, but was not attracted to the Scriptures, especially since he thought that to be in the Church meant you had to accept the view that God was bound by a human body.  At that time, he could only think of God as a mass of bodies.  He also thought that evil was a substance “with its own foul and hideous bulk,” and, since he believed that a good God could not create anything evil, therefore, there must be two masses opposing one another.  Furthermore, he could not see how Jesus could be part of God and still have come from a woman “mingled with her flesh” and therefore defiled.  (3, V-10).

His thoughts then wandered to the Academics, whom, he thought, “. . . were wiser than the rest, because they held that everything should be considered doubtful . . . that no truth could be comprehended by man.” (3, V-10)  In retrospect, he realizes that since he only thought in terms of bodies, “. . . it was chiefly these “masses” which held me down a prisoner and were practically stifling me . . .” (3, V-11)   It was Ambrose who became the vehicle to turn him around back to Christ, when Augustine realized that Scripture could be interpreted figuratively, instead of literally.    Since the Church showed more modesty and honesty and did not make unsubstantiated claims like the Manichees did, he became a catechumen in the Church, but since he was still searching for God outside of himself, he had no confidence in discovering the truth. (3, VI-1)   He also employed some Academic practicality in that he accepted the authority of Scripture since they were accepted all over the world. (3, VI-5)

Nevertheless, he was still in a limbo state as far as finding the truth.  Where shall he find it?  What books shall he read? When shall he find time?  (Does this strike a personal chord? It does with me!)   At this time he was in a position to obtain a governorship and soon to be married; he was torn between the lure of earthly delights and continuing on his search - he did not think he could do both.  He confesses a temptation towards Epicurianism, but was held back by his fear of the consequences in the afterlife. (3, VI-16)   He tried various different ways to think of God’s being, but all were tied to substance and spatiality to one degree or another.  Thoughts of the devil were literally bedeviling him. If God was good and infinite, then where was evil?  If He was omnipotent, why didn’t he fix the whole so no evil remained?  Why would He use evil material for anything in the first place? (3, VII-5)

Solution: Platonism

In this search, he discovered works by Platonists with much writing paralleling ideas from the Scriptures.  This was the breakthrough he needed to rid himself of materialism:

And it became clear to me that things which are subject to corruption are good. . . . all things which suffer corruption are deprived of something good in them.  Supposing them to be deprived of all good, they will cease to exist altogether. . . Therefore, so long as they exist, they are good.  Therefore, all things that are, are good, and as to that evil, the origin of which I was seeking for, it is not a substance, since, if it were a substance, it would be good.  (3, VII-12)

Augustine finally came to realize that evil was merely a privation of good.  His conception of Jesus also was changed from that of a man of the highest wisdom, to a recognition of the mystery contained in “The Word was made flesh.”  Augustine credits the Platonists:  “. . . which taught me to seek for a truth which was incorporeal.  I came to see your invisible things, understood by those things which are made.(3, VII-20)   He hungrily read the scriptures, especially St. Paul’s writings, and discovered much of what the Platonists talked about, only expressed to God’s glory.(3, VII-21)   He was finally prepared for his conversion experience which loosed him of his remaining earthly desire and enabled him to enter a life of service to the Church and his beloved God.

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BIBLIOGRAPHY

  1. Melchert, Norman.  The Great Conversation : A Historical Introduction to Philosophy. Mountain View, California: Mayfield Publishing Company, 1991.
  2. Cicero.  McGregor, Horace C.P., trans.  The Nature of the Gods.  Introduction by J.M. Ross.  London:  Penguin books, 1972.
  3. St. Augustine.  Warner, Rex, trans.  The Confessions of St. Augustine.  New York: Penguin Books, 1963.
  4. Philosophy 291 : Medieval Philosophy, lecture notes.  Spring, 1995.  Dr. David Depew, instructor.

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