A debate over whether God predestines to make some people reprobate broke out in the ninth century. No one taught this view, but it was presumed by several churchmen at the time to be the position of those who called themselves double predestinarians. In part, this article explains why two double predestinarians, Gottschalk of Orbais and Ratramnus of Corbie, were mistaken for proponents of this view. They had been trying to explain Augustine’s phrase, “those predestined to punishment”, which they found in no fewer than ten of Augustine’s texts. Gottschalk points out Augustine used the phrase interchangeably with the term reprobate. Thus, to Gottschalk, it is not a statement about what God predestines; rather, it is a statement about the effect of predestination (i.e., God predestining to judge sin) on certain people. Likewise, to Ratramnus, the phrase referred to the effect of God’s ordering of both the good and evil acts of persons. That Gottschalk and Ratramnus identified Augustine’s use of the phrase with a belief in double predestination was due to their reading Augustine through the lens of Isidore of Seville’s Sententiae II.6.

This essay examines Augustine’s notion that a person can transcend temporal “distention” by “extending” his soul to God by way of “intention” (intentio). Augustine conceived of intentio as an activity of the will that functions to connect the soul to beings and objects in the world (thus allowing one to perceive, remember, think). Augustine links his notion of “intention” to the activity of “extending oneself to God” (based on Paul’s Philippians 3:13). How do the soul’s “intention” and “extension” work together to combat temporal “distention”? Augustine suggests that Paul extended himself to God but could not fully overcome distention. In his vision of God in Confessions 9, by contrast, Augustine (briefly) transcends distention. Here, Augustine’s memory and self have been transcended as his soul “extends itself” to God “through intention.” Even in this state of self-transcendence, his intentio directs and connects his soul to God.

Many have observed that Augustine casts Monica, both in the Cassiciacum dialogues and in the Confessiones, as a representative of Catholic piety and/or a figure of the church. But what is the relationship between Monica the type and Monica the individual? This article suggests that the literary trope of synecdoche supplies the most adequate answer to this question. Reading Monica as an individual who, precisely in and through her individuality, represents the church as a whole also illumines Augustine’s ecclesiology, both in its early stages at Cassiciacum and in a more developed state in the Confessiones. In the latter we find Augustine fully embracing an understanding of the pilgrim church as a community that knows itself, not as an aggregation of spiritual adepts, but always and only as “on the way,” i.e., in the process of being redeemed, and for just this reason as the privileged vehicle of transformation by the grace of Christ.

Toward the beginning of De magistro, Augustine and his son undertake a brief philosophical exercise using a line from Virgil’s Aeneid. That exercise seems to end in failure when father and son jokingly give up on their task. In this essay, I show that neither the selection of the particular line nor the failure of the exercise are accidental. I unpack the context of the Virgilian line, showing its resonance with Augustine’s own life, and I explain how the content of the line stands as a challenge to the very argument Augustine seems to want to use it to make. On the basis of this analysis, I argue the dialogue is best read as a dramatization of a false idealization of words—an idealization Augustine hopes his son (and, presumably, the reader) might be freed from. I conclude with the suggestion that interiority functions in the dialogue as a way of describing an intimate, shared space of meaning.

Augustine’s political theology is characterized by two apparently contradictory impulses: his harsh moral critique of non-Christian political communities, and his approbation of Christian participation in these communities. I argue that Augustine’s ecclesiology illuminates the coherence of his thought on these matters. Augustine’s assertion against the Donatists that Christians do not contract guilt from ecclesial fellowship with sinners reflects his larger vision of the relation between the earthly and heavenly cities. Association with sinners is no more avoidable in the civic sphere than in the ecclesial, and the vicious character of non-Christian political orders does not taint Christians who participate in them. Indeed, Christian rulers exercise authority over the earthly city faithfully when they direct their civic authority toward heavenly ends. This perspective funds Augustine’s defense of religious coercion. Since the Christian ruler ultimately belongs to the heavenly and not the earthly city, he should use his earthly power to enforce church unity according to ecclesial and not civic duty.