In week 20 of the humanities crash course, I read the remaining chapters of Saint Augustine’s Confessions, the story of his quest to find God. I also watched a classic movie about a similar journey set in the Middle Ages, but reflecting a more modern perspective.
Readings
Written between 397–400 CE, Confessions is one of the world’s first autobiographies. But it’s a spiritual autobiography, combining personal narrative with theology. The work consists of thirteen books that trace Augustine’s life from his birth through middle age.
Augustine addresses God in the text, confessing his many failings. They’re relatable. In one memorable episode, he steals pears not because he’s hungry, but to impress his friends. He gives in to carnal desires. He’s proud and overly intellectual. In his search for meaning, he embraces Manichaeism and astrology.
His mother and companion, Monica, is a Christian. She prays for his conversion and influences him in various ways. They travel from their home in North Africa to Rome and then Milan, where, under the influence of Bishop Ambrose, he learns to interpret scripture metaphorically.
Eventually, he suffers a spiritual break leading to his conversion. Shortly after, Monica dies and the autobiography ends. From then on, the Confessions changes: it becomes an abstract and philosophical exploration of memory and God’s nature through an analysis of the early chapters of the book of Genesis.
I was surprised by the book’s relevance. I read Maria Boulding’s Translation for the 21st Century, which struck an excellent balance between reverence and relevance. While not using slang, the text’s language and cadence felt accessible and engaging.
I also listened to this translation’s audiobook, which uses different narrators for each book. The audiobook felt discontinuous and included at least one editing error. But it helped me get through this longer text by allowing me to listen during my daily walks.
Audiovisual
Music: Bach’s St Matthew Passion. I’d heard this work before, and it always evokes Paul Simon’s American Tune, which quotes it:
Arts: The Bayeux Tapestry, an embroidered cloth that depicts the Norman Conquest of England in 1066. The Bayeux Museum provides an online version so you can explore the 70-meter (230-foot) artifact scene by scene.
](/assets/images/2025/05/bayeux-tapestry-detail.jpg)
A scene from the Bayeux Tapestry depicting Bishop Odo rallying Duke William’s army during the Battle of Hastings in 1066, via Wikimedia
Cinema: Ingmar Bergman’s 1957 classic, THE SEVENTH SEAL. I watched it in college, but it’s been a while. Given this week’s reading, I thought it the perfect opportunity to re-visit this movie about looking for God.
Antonius Block, a knight, and his squire Jöns return home after the Crusades to find the country ravaged by the Black Death. Disillusioned, the knight wants proof of God’s existence. He plays a literal chess game with Death, who is a major character in the movie.
Almost seventy years on, the themes and images of this beautiful movie still influence new works. For a relatively recent example, see the music video for Depeche Mode’s Ghosts Again (2023):
Reflections
Block and Augustine are both looking for God. The knight wants empirical evidence; Augustine wants faith, which he initially sees as irrational.
While Block doesn’t find God, he finds peace in compassion by acting as if God existed. Augustine overcomes simplistic interpretations, parsing teachings through a more metaphorical lens. In modern parlance, they both transcend their egos by surrendering — in Augustine’s case, to divine truth, and for Block, in the human condition.
I was surprised by Augustine’s open-mindedness and pluralism. In the latter books of the Confessions, he acknowledges multiple possible interpretations of scripture. But this isn’t a postmodern free-for-all: for Augustine, interpretations can be true so long as they align with core doctrines. Where Derrida grounds plurality in language’s instability, Augustine grounds it in divine revelation.
The results are very different. Augustine’s view leads to generative order through inclusion; Derrida’s veers toward nihilism. Derrida, of course, stands on Sartre’s shoulders. In THE SEVENTH SEAL, Jöns reflects the existential void that began to erode the foundations of Western societies around the mid-20th century, when the film was made.
Augustine offers an alternative to the suck.
Notes on Note-taking
This week, I tried something new with ChatGPT. I’ve already mentioned that I partly “read” the Confessions as an audiobook. After listening to book ten, where the work’s tone pivots towards more introspective philosophizing, I thought to ask ChatGPT a question via its voice UI.
We ended up having a long dialog about the relationship between Augustine’s openness toward alternative interpretations and postmodernism. I brought in Derrida, and ChatGPT outlined the similarities and differences between their approaches.
Admittedly, this is risky stuff. I haven’t read Derrida since college (and not much then,) but I think I understand his core ideas. But still, ChatGPT expressed opinions I can’t evaluate. Here’s the relevant part of our dialog; it gives you a taste of what this is like. Keep in mind these words were spoken during our interaction:
ME: Would it be fair to contrast Augustine’s approach with someone like Jacques Derrida? Would he be an example of the more relativistic reading of the text? And how does Augustine know what God’s ground truth is in this case?
CHATGPT: Yes, you’re right to contrast Augustine with someone like Derrida. Derrida famously questioned the very idea of stable meaning, especially in written texts. He saw language as inherently slippery—always deferring meaning rather than delivering it. For him, interpretation becomes an endless play of signs, with no final authority grounding the meaning. So yes, that’s much closer to relativism.
Augustine, by contrast, trusts that there is a stable ground—namely, God’s eternal truth—even if human readers access it partially or from different angles. So for Augustine, meaning isn’t infinitely deferred; it’s just infinitely deep. We’re limited in how much we can grasp, but that doesn’t make the truth any less real or objective.
Now, how does Augustine know what God’s “ground truth” is? Good question. He would say we come to it through a combination of Scripture, tradition, reason, and inward illumination—what he calls the “inner teacher,” or magister interior. He believes the Holy Spirit helps guide interpretation when one reads prayerfully and humbly within the context of the Church.
So while Derrida leans into the instability of meaning, Augustine leans into mystery—but it’s a mystery anchored in a knowable God. Does that help clarify the difference?
Note the followup question. The system prompt for this modality must include an explicit instruction to ask one at the end of each response; I saw the pattern in every voice UI interaction with ChatGPT.
Talking with ChatGPT proved surprisingly effective. I was able to deepen my understanding and appreciation of the Confessions while away from my desk. I’ll be using this technique in the future.
Up Next
Gioia recommends readings from the Canterbury Tales and Le Morte D’Arthur. I recently re-watched MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL, so I’ll look elsewhere for my cinematic pick. (Perhaps Boorman’s EXCALIBUR?)
Again, there’s a YouTube playlist for the videos I’m sharing here. I’m also sharing these posts via Substack if you’d like to subscribe and comment. See you next week!