Religious is a tricky word here, but what immediately comes to my mind is Plato's Gorgias. There, he says that rhetoric should be used by a guilty person to confess and ask the judge to punish just like a sick person may communicate their sickness to ask a doctor for medicine. So there is a religious application in the context of confession, but there can be application outside of it. Not only for the good of social justice or familial peace, but also for the positive development of one's soul and acquisition of virtue, which isn't purely the realm of religion, even though religion offers what in my opinion is a more complete framework by which we can understand that development.
For a non-Christian exploration of St. Augustine, I would highly recommend Roosevelt Montas' book Rescuing Socrates: How the Great Books Changed My Life and Why They Matter for a New Generation (https://www.amazon.com/Rescuing-Socrates-Changed-Matter-Generation/dp/0691200394). Montas was raised in a religious context but no longer practices and can find much good in Augustine's autobiographical confession.
From my perspective, attempts to appropriate the benefits of confession sans religion may accomplish some very real goods but will always be somewhat incomplete. This doesn't mean I think it's fruitless; Dante spends a great deal of time in Limbo with the souls of the virtuous pagans and seems rather entranced by their beauty! Virtue is good, whether it's a Christian or a non-Christian who possesses it. But just like faith, hope, and love can elevate the other virtues, the same is true about the practice of confession: it's good when a person who has done wrong confesses what they did; how much better is it in when that confession is saturated in the theological virtues?
Ah yes, that's fair. The breaking up of a family is a big deal, and perhaps there was a way for Augustine to regularize his situation rather than breaking it off completely. I definitely understand your reasoning here. I was recently reading a book called True Humanism by Catholic theologian Jacques Martin and he offers an important reminder that when we look at the past, we can apply what we see analogously rather than equivocally. So I think there's good in Monica--though even Augustine would have told you she wasn't perfect--but we have to understand and follow the example of her goodness in a way that accounts for all those cultural differences you're citing. I too would rather live in a world where my marriage isn't arranged and where parents don't dictate to adult children what they should or shouldn't do!
In terms of the confessional mode, I can't divorce what I'm about to say as a Priest who both goes to and hears confessions regularly so I'm definitely coming to it from a particular point of view.
There are a few reasons we go to confession: we want our relationship with God restored by receiving his forgiveness and we want the grace to amend our lives and make progress towards the ultimate goal of becoming fully human through the imitation of Christ.
As human beings, I think we have a tendency to create a number of excuses, self-justifications, and explanations for our behavior that are often rooted in our attempt to grasp the good, but ultimately distract from or unhelpfully minimize the way we warp or pervert the good.
Before we go to confession, we prepare through hopefully rigorous self-examination. We are vulnerable and honest about our sins. But we do this not from a position of insecurity; quite the opposite: it's because we have such confidence in God's love and grace that we know his "property is always to have mercy." After we speak our sins, the priest gives some advice and counsel that is tailored to the confession, then provides a penance for the person to perform as an act of thanksgiving for the great gift of forgiveness they receive, absolves them, and sends them forth in peace.
Once one leaves the confessional, there should be no doubt that God does forgive them. They have been given the absolution from a priest with the authority to do so. To continue to dwell on the guilt or doubt one's forgiveness would be a form of sacrilege. In other words, once one has received forgiveness (a form of purgation), there is freedom to now pursue the good.
I think your diagnosis of examination/confession as lacking a healthy sense of self-love would be correct (and probably is correct in some cases) if that part of the process were disconnected from the whole thing. We could draw a parallel with our bodily health: if I start showing symptoms of a serious sickness that could be cured, but I tell myself "It's probably not a big deal" and don't go to the doctor, is that a way of handling it that's self-love *or* would it be more self-loving to go to the doctor and tell them everything that's wrong so they can prescribe you a course of treatment that will bring healing? Similarly, when we go to confession it is so that we can be healed.
I should also caveat, that the priest may point out some of the contextual things you should consider. Soren Kierkegaard has a great homily about confession where he says that in the confessional, only the penitent is there to condemn themselves, the priest and God are not condemning.
Hopefully that makes sense!
In terms of Monica, I can understand. I think his love for her and the role she plays in the story is such that she really does deserve to be a saint. Can you explain a little better: what about her wanting him to get rid of his mistress was problematic? The fact that she didn't want him to be with the woman he loved?
Religious is a tricky word here, but what immediately comes to my mind is Plato's Gorgias. There, he says that rhetoric should be used by a guilty person to confess and ask the judge to punish just like a sick person may communicate their sickness to ask a doctor for medicine. So there is a religious application in the context of confession, but there can be application outside of it. Not only for the good of social justice or familial peace, but also for the positive development of one's soul and acquisition of virtue, which isn't purely the realm of religion, even though religion offers what in my opinion is a more complete framework by which we can understand that development.
For a non-Christian exploration of St. Augustine, I would highly recommend Roosevelt Montas' book Rescuing Socrates: How the Great Books Changed My Life and Why They Matter for a New Generation (https://www.amazon.com/Rescuing-Socrates-Changed-Matter-Generation/dp/0691200394). Montas was raised in a religious context but no longer practices and can find much good in Augustine's autobiographical confession.
From my perspective, attempts to appropriate the benefits of confession sans religion may accomplish some very real goods but will always be somewhat incomplete. This doesn't mean I think it's fruitless; Dante spends a great deal of time in Limbo with the souls of the virtuous pagans and seems rather entranced by their beauty! Virtue is good, whether it's a Christian or a non-Christian who possesses it. But just like faith, hope, and love can elevate the other virtues, the same is true about the practice of confession: it's good when a person who has done wrong confesses what they did; how much better is it in when that confession is saturated in the theological virtues?
Ah yes, that's fair. The breaking up of a family is a big deal, and perhaps there was a way for Augustine to regularize his situation rather than breaking it off completely. I definitely understand your reasoning here. I was recently reading a book called True Humanism by Catholic theologian Jacques Martin and he offers an important reminder that when we look at the past, we can apply what we see analogously rather than equivocally. So I think there's good in Monica--though even Augustine would have told you she wasn't perfect--but we have to understand and follow the example of her goodness in a way that accounts for all those cultural differences you're citing. I too would rather live in a world where my marriage isn't arranged and where parents don't dictate to adult children what they should or shouldn't do!
Hey Monique,
These are excellent questions.
In terms of the confessional mode, I can't divorce what I'm about to say as a Priest who both goes to and hears confessions regularly so I'm definitely coming to it from a particular point of view.
There are a few reasons we go to confession: we want our relationship with God restored by receiving his forgiveness and we want the grace to amend our lives and make progress towards the ultimate goal of becoming fully human through the imitation of Christ.
As human beings, I think we have a tendency to create a number of excuses, self-justifications, and explanations for our behavior that are often rooted in our attempt to grasp the good, but ultimately distract from or unhelpfully minimize the way we warp or pervert the good.
Before we go to confession, we prepare through hopefully rigorous self-examination. We are vulnerable and honest about our sins. But we do this not from a position of insecurity; quite the opposite: it's because we have such confidence in God's love and grace that we know his "property is always to have mercy." After we speak our sins, the priest gives some advice and counsel that is tailored to the confession, then provides a penance for the person to perform as an act of thanksgiving for the great gift of forgiveness they receive, absolves them, and sends them forth in peace.
Once one leaves the confessional, there should be no doubt that God does forgive them. They have been given the absolution from a priest with the authority to do so. To continue to dwell on the guilt or doubt one's forgiveness would be a form of sacrilege. In other words, once one has received forgiveness (a form of purgation), there is freedom to now pursue the good.
I think your diagnosis of examination/confession as lacking a healthy sense of self-love would be correct (and probably is correct in some cases) if that part of the process were disconnected from the whole thing. We could draw a parallel with our bodily health: if I start showing symptoms of a serious sickness that could be cured, but I tell myself "It's probably not a big deal" and don't go to the doctor, is that a way of handling it that's self-love *or* would it be more self-loving to go to the doctor and tell them everything that's wrong so they can prescribe you a course of treatment that will bring healing? Similarly, when we go to confession it is so that we can be healed.
I should also caveat, that the priest may point out some of the contextual things you should consider. Soren Kierkegaard has a great homily about confession where he says that in the confessional, only the penitent is there to condemn themselves, the priest and God are not condemning.
Hopefully that makes sense!
In terms of Monica, I can understand. I think his love for her and the role she plays in the story is such that she really does deserve to be a saint. Can you explain a little better: what about her wanting him to get rid of his mistress was problematic? The fact that she didn't want him to be with the woman he loved?