St. Augustine's The Confessions: The Original Tell-All Celebrity Autobiography
The Phrase "Too Much Information" Wasn't In His Lexicon
Have you ever sat down and thought about your entire life and said, "Yeah, I should write a book about this." That’s what happened here. Augustine—this preacher man from North Africa in the 4th century (that’s after JC Superstar was born)—had one of those big realizations. The kind where you rethink your entire existence. He says, “I need to tell everyone how I went from wild child to super pious church dude,” And not just tell them, but tell them with a capital "T." I think he invented the first tell-all memoir, except instead of scandalous celebrity gossip, it’s, "Here’s how I spent years ruining my life, and spoiler: God saved me!"
Book 1: Baby, Baby, Baby
Augustine’s the original Captain Obvious, "I was a baby once." Which—yeah, weren’t we all? But he’s not just saying this in a cute, “Aww, goo-goo ga-ga” way. He’s all, “Even as a baby, I was sinning.” I know, right? What was baby Augustine doing that was so bad? Stealing extra milk? Crying too much? Augustine believes, "Even babies have original sin," which is a wild concept if you think about it. Babies! Sinners! The man says, "I was crying for no reason, and that’s selfish, and selfishness is sin." He’s the kid who’d say, "Why do I exist?" while holding a sippy cup.
Book 2: The Teenage Dirtbag Years
The teen years were not Augustine’s finest moments. And he admits it! He says, "I was a little too into the party life." You know that kid in high school who goes a little too far at every party? The one guy who’s always up for a good time. That’s Augustine. But instead of just making bad decisions like every teenager, he smiles and says, "I stole pears. And not because I was hungry, but because I liked doing bad things." This guy stole fruit to impress his friends, which is probably the 4th-century equivalent of saying, "Yeah, we TP’d the neighbor's house for the rush."
Years later, he’s still haunted by the pear situation. It’s weird how much the pears bothered him. Go to therapy, man. Do you know why I think he finally stopped stealing pears? He realized he could bear fruit in other ways. HA! HA! HA!
Book 3: Philosophy? Meh, Let’s Try Heresy
Augustine was a brainiac. The guy loved to learn, and at one point, he got into philosophy. He’s reading, he’s debating, he’s being intellectual. You know, like those kids in college who say, "I took one philosophy class, and now I know everything." That was Augustine. He’s hanging out with this group called the Manicheans—a trendy cult back in the day—because they were hip with their fancy ideas about light and darkness (and that same dichotomy was mirrored in the ratio of soy milk to espresso in their lattes). But then he realizes, "You know what? No, this isn’t it. These people are weird. Something’s off here."
He bought into a self-help trend and said, "Wait a second. None of this makes sense. Am I in a cult?"
Book 4-5: The Work Hard, Play Hard Phase
Augustine gets a job teaching rhetoric, which is similar to being a speech coach but fancy. He’s still living this split life—super into his career and partying hard. Augustine is that guy who goes to work in a suit, then hits up the clubs later, thinking, “No one will notice.” But he’s also still searching for meaning, so he’s flirting with Christianity now. He’s on the fence, “Maybe God’s got something for me after all, but can we make it quick? I have things to do.”
This whole time, he’s feeling empty inside. Imagine Augustine as that friend who’s always telling you, "I’m fine," but you know he’s not. He’s spiraling. He doesn't know it yet.
Book 6-8: I’m Going Through Some Stuff Right Now
Here’s where it gets good. Augustine’s crisis mode is full-on, and he’s struggling. He’s in Milan, hanging out with Ambrose—this big church guy—and realizes, “Oh no, I might have to change my life. Ugh.” There’s this constant back-and-forth where he’s so close to becoming a Christian but always says, "Maybe tomorrow."
But then, BAM! He has this dramatic "come to Jesus" moment in a garden. He hears a child saying, "Take up and read," he picks up the Bible—very conveniently placed nearby—and reads some verses that hit him hard. It’s like that rom-com moment where the protagonist realizes, “I’ve been wrong all along! She’s right here in front of me. I love Karen from accounting.” Except it’s not about love (or Karen); it’s about Augustine realizing, "Oh, God’s been waiting for me this whole time." Cue the big dramatic montage of him turning his life around. It’s emotional, it’s beautiful, and it’s Augustine’s aha moment.
Books 9-13: It’s All About the Afterglow
Augustine’s done with his wild years and entirely on Team Jesus. He gets baptized, and his mom, Monica, who has been praying for him forever, says, “FINALLY.” There’s a touching moment where Augustine and Monica are having this deep, spiritual conversation before she dies, and you want to cry because they made it through so much together. It’s like the emotional climax of every Hallmark family drama—except instead of being about reconciling differences, it’s about reconciling their lives with God. Okay, maybe it’s the same.
And after that? Augustine says, “Let me spend the rest of this book talking about God and time and creation and—oh yeah, how cool God is.” He’s writing a theological dissertation now, and we’re sitting here going, “Wow, Augustine, way to go from zero to 100.”
Augustine’s Confessions is the original “redemption arc” story. He’s the guy who made all the mistakes, realized his life was a mess, and then turned it all around in the most dramatic way possible. It’s the story of someone who thought he could do it alone, only to discover, “Yeah, I need help—divine help.”
If Augustine were here today, he’d be that guy at a dinner party telling stories about his wild past, and you’d say, “Dude, you’ve lived.” And then he’d go, “Yeah, but God was really the one living through me,” and you'd nod politely while reaching for another drink.
Augustine’s Confessions is part memoir, philosophy, and spiritual reflection. It’s raw, relatable (minus the ancient Roman stuff), and all about finding your way in a world that often feels spinning out of control. And honestly, who can’t relate to that?
Love your very funny and witty take on St. Augustine's Confessions! It's one of my favorite books but one I haven't read in a few years, and I absolutely loved this part of your post: "If Augustine were here today, he’d be that guy at a dinner party telling stories about his wild past, and you’d say, “Dude, you’ve lived.” And then he’d go, 'Yeah, but God was really the one living through me,' and you'd nod politely while reaching for another drink." Thanks for the great read!
I read his "Confessions" very many years ago and it struck home for me.
Augustine was a bad boy and his mama always stayed by his side in prayer, and she was used to bad boys because her husband wasn't any better than her son. Monica wasn't declared a saint because she thought she was a great mom but because she loved God, her kid and never lost faith or hope.
Augustine became my hero because I too went through the same kind of life as he did, including a whole bunch of partying, sketchy relationships, alcohol and whatnot, after being raised by a dad who wasn't the best example, and a mom who did her best to hold the family in her arms and prayers as well. I feel like he is my spiritual brother.
Augustine, because of the faith and prayers of his mama on his behalf, was hit over the head a few times (not sure, but thinking he needed some blows to his inner noggin more than once) until he finally recognized that he was on a path toward destruction and misery and that he wasn't going to escape God's love forever, so he might as well give God a listen.
And I'll bet he had his moments before and after writing "Confessions" when he thought he was on a strange and unfamiliar path and had no idea where it would lead him, but he stuck it out because he realized that God wasn't going to let him go.