How to Think with God

Augustine, prayer, and the life of the mind

Photo by Anthony Tori on Unsplash

“I have already affirmed this and will say it again: I tell my story for love of your love.”

I’ve been re-reading Augustine’s Confessions, and have found myself lingering over the final few chapters. Confessions is considered to be the first Western autobiography, and most of the popular attention it gets has to do with Augustine’s ruthlessly honest look at his own sin. In the early chapters, Augustine invites God into every dark crevice of his inner life. He holds back no detail, inviting God to shine his purifying light into every part of him. At every turn, he invokes God’s presence, healing, and forgiveness.

In the later chapters, Augustine explores various philosophical and theological questions. What’s the nature of time? Of God’s sovereignty? Of the soul? How should we read the opening words of Genesis? As he considers these different matters, it’s clear that he sees himself as undertaking his lines of inquiry with God. It’s not that he dedicates his work to God, or is thankful that God gave him that work to do. God is not simply in the background, providing the structure or starting point for his philosophizing. Augustine thinks toward, from, and with his God. Augustine’s God is personal, immediate, and fully in his task of uncovering truth.

I am investigating, Father, not making assertions. My God, protect me and rule me. Who will tell me that there are not three times, past present, and future, as we learnt when children and as we have taught children but only in the present, because the other two have no existence? (XI.xvii (22)).

As moderns, it’s very easy for us to feel disconnected from God. As my good friend Joe Minich has pointed out, the industrial revolution put distance between us and nature, giving us the illusion of being in control, of creating the world we live in. We feel that we have built this world for ourselves, and have to remind ourselves to “touch grass” and reconnect with nature, as if nature were some supplemental add-on, rather than basic ground-level reality. This disconnect, this illusion of living in a human-constructed reality, makes God feel like a hypothetical, rather than the most obvious and fundamental reality. Minich postulates that this is the reason atheism was not really a “thing” until civilization advanced to a certain point.

Even for those of us who believe in God, it’s easy to have a sense that our intellect and heart are divided, and that when we undertake thinking and studying, we are doing something non-native to spiritual reality. Some Christian circles have such a strong bias away from the life of the mind, that it can feel almost transgressive to spend time studying, reflecting, and thinking deeply about the nature of God and humanity.

For Augustine, the task of thinking was not something that took time away from being in God’s presence. Neither was it something he did to impress God or earn his approval. Augustine showed us what it’s like to think with God.

Augustine took theological puzzles and lifted them to God for inspection. He recognized that his curiosity and zeal to find things out was a gift from God. He acknowledged that God was the gatekeeper to all truth. He couldn’t find anything out apart from God. If God closes a door, who can open it?

My mind is on fire to solve this very intricate enigma. Do not shut the door, Lord my God. Good Father, through Christ I beg you, do not shut the door on my longing to understand these things which are both familiar and obscure. Do not prevent me, Lord, from penetrating them and seeing them illuminated by the light of your mercy. Whom shall I ask about them? And to whom but you shall I more profitably confess my incompetence? You are not irritated by the burning zeal with which I study your scriptures. Grant what I love. For I love, and this love was your gift. Grant it, Father. You truly know how to give good gifts to your children. (XI. xxii (28))

Just like experiencing and studying nature can be a pathway to reconnect with God, deep study and thought and contemplation are pathways to intimacy with God. Before modern philosophers saw their minds as standing apart from nature, apart from and distant from God, the norm was for philosophers and theologians to see their work as totally infused with divine presence. Those who were called to the life of the mind were often cloistered off from the cares of the world. They had regular rhythms of worship and work that punctuated their studies. Studying was a fundamentally spiritual undertaking. As moderns, we can recover this posture of thinking with God. This is a big theme in the writing of Sarah Coakley:

If one is resolutely not engaged in the practices of prayer, contemplation, and worship, then there are certain sorts of philosophical insight that are unlikely, if not impossible, to become available.

The division between mind and heart, intellect and spirit, was only ever arbitrary. It was only ever a scam. We can and should invite God into every aspect of our lives, not least the life of the mind.