Late have I loved you, Beauty so ancient and so new, late have I loved you!
Lo, you were within,
but I outside, seeking there for you,
and upon the shapely things you have made
I rushed headlong – I, misshapen.
You were with me, but I was not with you.
They held me back far from you,
those things which would have no being,
were they not in you.
You called, shouted, broke through my deafness;
you flared, blazed, banished my blindness;
you lavished your fragrance, I gasped; and now I pant for you;
I tasted you, and now I hunger and thirst;
you touched me, and I burned for your peace.
St. Augustine’s Confessions is one of the most profound spiritual works of the Catholic tradition. In it, Augustine offers a deeply personal testimony of conversion, repentance, and the unending pursuit of God’s grace. A powerful excerpt from this work is the poem: “Late have I loved you, Beauty so ancient and so new, late have I loved you!” Here, Augustine captures the essence of the human condition—our tendency to seek fulfillment in the wrong places and the joy that comes when we finally discover God’s presence within us.
Augustine begins with a lament: “Late have I loved you!”—a cry familiar to anyone who has felt the weight of wasted time spent chasing after worldly pleasures. Augustine sought God in external things—in the “shapely things” that God had created—but found himself misshapen by them. While creation is inherently good because of its Creator, it can become an obstacle to our salvation if we allow it to take God’s place in our hearts.
In our own lives, we often find ourselves distracted by the allure of success, material wealth, or pleasure. These things, as Augustine reminds us, would have no being if they were not created by God. Yet, when we place them above God, they lead us away from Him.
The turning point in Augustine’s reflection comes when he describes God’s intervention: “You called, shouted, broke through my deafness; you flared, blazed, banished my blindness.” This is a profound moment of grace, a reminder that conversion is not merely a human effort but a divine initiative. God’s grace breaks through our defenses, opening our eyes to His presence.
After his awakening, Augustine expresses a deep longing for God: “I tasted you, and now I hunger and thirst; you touched me, and I burned for your peace.” This language evokes the Eucharist, for just as Augustine hungers and thirsts for God after tasting His presence, so too ought we to hunger for Christ in the Eucharist, where we receive His Body and Blood as spiritual nourishment.
The Eucharist is a foretaste of the eternal banquet, and Augustine’s burning desire for peace reflects the soul’s ultimate longing for union with God. In the Eucharist, we encounter Christ’s true presence, and like Augustine, we are transformed by this encounter, drawn ever deeper into the mystery of God’s love.
St. Augustine’s reflection is a timeless reminder of the journey of faith—one of continual conversion, grace, and renewal. His words invite us to turn away from the distractions of the world and to seek God within, where His grace is always at work. As Catholics, we are called to embrace this journey through the sacraments, prayer, and a deepening relationship with Christ.
In the end, Augustine’s lament is not one of despair but of hope. It is a testament to the fact that it is never too late to turn to God, to love the Beauty who is both ancient and ever new. Through God’s grace, we are called to the fullness of life in Him, and like Augustine, we can find the peace that only He can give.
