AUGUST 28, 2026 FATHER BERNARD CARROLL
Today we celebrate the Memorial of Saint Augustine of Hippo, a man whose life was a dramatic journey, from the restless pursuit of worldly pleasures to a burning, unquenchable, love for God.
He spent the first half of his life chasing illusions. He sought happiness in career ambition, intellectual prestige, and physical pleasure. He looked for love in all the wrong places. He knew the empty ache of achieving everything you thought you wanted, only to find yourself completely hollow inside.
If Augustine were alive today, we would easily recognize him. He’s the person looking for validation in social media likes. He is the professional working 80 hours a week to prove their worth. He is anyone trying to numb their internal pain with temporary pleasures.
Augustine’s story captures the human condition. It speaks to us, because his restlessness is our restlessness. He famously wrote in his Confessions: “Our hears are restless, O God, until they rest in you.”
That restlessness is something many of us know. We search for happiness in success, in possessions, in relationships, in pleasure, in recognition. Yet, like Augustine, we eventually discover that none of these can satisfy our deepest longings of our human heart.
Human wisdom often seeks prestige, influence, and comfort. God’s wisdom is revealed in a very different way: in a crucified saviour. In today’s first reading we heard Saint Paul tell us: “The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.”
It took many years of worldly renown and pleasurable experiences before Augustine absorbed this truth. As a young man, he was exceptionally gifted. He mastered rhetoric, he sought fame, and he pursued every intellectual and worldly pleasure he could find.
With his concubine, he fathered a son whom they named Adeodatus, that is, “given by God.” He belonged for years to a religious sect that promised secret knowledge. He believed that truth could be mastered by human intelligence alone. But human effort alone could not break his addictions and his inner doubts.
Yet throughout Augustine’s years in the spiritual wilderness, God never stopped pursuing him. God’s grace was quietly at work, most notably through the tears and unceasing prayers of his mother, Monica. Her example reminds us never to lose hope or stop praying for those we love who have lost their way.
The turning point for Augustine came one day when he was in a garden in Milan, weeping under a fig tree, and crying out in anguish: “How long, O Lord?! How long?! Why not now?” Then, he heard the voice of a child nearby, repeating a chant: “Tolle lege, tolle lege…” Take and read, take and read…
So he picked up the scriptures, and he opened to Saint Paul’s letter to the Romans, and he read: “Not in orgies and drunkenness, not in promiscuity and licentiousness, not in rivalry and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provisions for the desires of the flesh.”
In that moment God’s grace broke through his procrastination and resistance. He realized that he did not have to make himself perfect to merit God’s love. He just had to stop running. God’s grace was already there, pursuing him.
From that surrender came one of the greatest saints in history. He famously wrote: “Late have I loved you, beauty so old and so new. Late have I loved you. you were within, but I was without.”
The truth of God’s breakthrough in Augustine is the lesson our world desperately needs today. We live in a world of constant movement, endless distractions, and relentless search for fulfilment. We are in an age that celebrates technology, expertise, and self-sufficiency. These are valuable gifts, but they alone are not able to quench our thirst for our deepest longings.
There are questions that science cannot answer, wealth cannot solve, and success cannot satisfy. The deepest questions. Who am I? Why am I here? What is the purpose of suffering? What happens after death? These questions find their answer only in faith in Jesus Christ crucified and risen.
Augustine, like the foolish virgins in today’s Gospel, knew what it meant to be unprepared. The oil in the lamps has often been understood by the Church as the life of grace, sustained through prayer, charity, faithfulness, and the sacraments.
For many years, Augustine postponed giving his whole heart to God. He admired Christianity, he respected the faith of his mother Monica, and he even desired conversion. But not yet. One of his famous prayers before his conversion was: “Lord, make me chaste. But not yet.”
How many of us make similar bargains with God? “I’ll pray when life becomes less busy.” “I’ll take a stand against injustice when I have more time.” “I’ll serve the poor when things settle down.” “I’ll become serious about my faith after retirement.”
As we celebrate Augustine, perhaps his life invites each of us to make one simple decision today. Not tomorrow, not next month, but today. Whatever area of our lives we have kept from God, let us place it in God’s hands in this Eucharist.
May Saint Augustine pray for us, that our restless hearts may find their peace in Christ. That our mind may seek his truth. That our lives may reflect his love. And that when the bridegroom comes, he will find our lamps burning brightly, and welcome us into eternal joy with his Father and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
