The will at war with itself
Why does a person will a thing and fail to do it, commanding their own self and meeting refusal? Augustine makes his own divided will the central puzzle of a life.
Our heart is restless, Augustine tells God at the opening, until it rests in you, and the narrative traces that restlessness through desires that could not settle him. The stolen pears are small on purpose: a boy takes fruit he does not want and throws it to pigs, wanting the wrong for its own sake, and Augustine will not stop worrying at what that means. Long habit hardens into a chain no resolve can break, so he wills chastity and cannot yet will it wholly, until the Milan garden and the child's voice, take up and read. The turn he credits to grace, not his own strength.
- desire
- will
- habit
- grace
- suffering
- conversion
- sin
Enter a dialogue
- For a person who knows exactly what they should do and still cannot make themselves do it, what does your divided will tell them is happening?
- You dwell on stolen pears you did not even want; isn't building a whole theology of sin on a boyish prank straining a trifle past breaking?
- How is the restlessness you say only God can settle different from ordinary discontent that a change of circumstances might cure?
- If the decisive turn came by grace and not your own effort, what does that ask a striving person to stop claiming as their own achievement?
- When a habit has hardened into something a person feels powerless against, does your own long struggle offer them anything but the counsel to wait?