November 13, 2009

• Happy Birthday, Augustine of Hippo

  Following on the heels of Richard Baxter's birthday, we've got another birthday to celebrate, Augustine of Hippo's... (HT: llamalima)

  Many of us are familiar with Augustine's words about our hearts being restless until they find their rest in God. Here's the quote in context (from Augustine's Confessions 1.1):
  

  Great art Thou, O Lord, and greatly to be praised; great is Thy power, and Thy wisdom infinite. And Thee would man praise; man, but a particle of Thy creation; man, that bears about him his mortality, the witness of his sin, the witness that Thou resistest the proud: yet would man praise Thee; he, but a particle of Thy creation. Thou awakest us to delight in Thy praise; for Thou madest us for Thyself, and our heart is restless, until it repose in Thee. Grant me, Lord, to know and understand which is first, to call on Thee or to praise Thee? and, again, to know Thee or to call on Thee? for who can call on Thee, not knowing Thee? for he that knoweth Thee not, may call on Thee as other than Thou art. Or, is it rather, that we call on Thee that we may know Thee? but how shall they call on Him in whom they have not believed? or how shall they believe without a preacher? and they that seek the Lord shall praise Him: for they that seek shall find Him, and they that find shall praise Him. I will seek Thee, Lord, by calling on Thee; and will call on Thee, believing in Thee; for to us hast Thou been preached. My faith, Lord, shall call on Thee, which Thou hast given me, wherewith Thou hast inspired me, through the Incarnation of Thy Son, through the ministry of the Preacher.

  
  

  
  

  And here's Charles Wesley (most likely Charles, not John) expressing the same sentiment in Wesley's Hymns and Sacred Poems, 1740:

  The Same [Looking unto Jesus].

  1 God of love, incline thine ear!
  Christ my King,
  Haste and bring
  Thy salvation near.

  2 Thee my restless soul requires;
  Restless till
  Thou fulfill
  All its large desires.

  3 Only thou to me be given;
  Thou be mine,
  I resign
  All in earth and heaven.

  4 Jesus, come, my sickness cure;
  Shew thine art,
  Cleanse a heart
  Full of thoughts impure.

  5 Painfully it now aspires
  To be free,
  Full of thee,
  Full of hallow’d fires.

  6 Lo, I tread on deaths and snares,
  Sinking still
  Into ill,
  Plung’d in griefs and cares.

  7 When, O when wilt thou appear?
  O draw nigh!
  Say, “’Tis I;”
  And I will not fear.

  8 Hasten, hasten the glad hour,
  Come and be
  Unto me
  Health, and love, and power.

  9 Christ, my life, my inward heaven,
  Thro’ the whole
  Of my soul
  Spread thy little leaven.

  10 Make me to the end endure;
  Let me feel
  Love the seal:
  Love shall make it sure.

  11 Love, thine image love restore:
  Let me love,
  Hence remove,
  And be seen no more.

  
  

  • 8:24 AM
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