We are drawing near the end of our journey. We have analyzed the philosophy, adopted the disciplines, and rejected the heresies. But before we paint our final portrait of the Christian Stoic, we must look at one last pairing of lives.
On the nightstand of Western civilization, there are two small books that have comforted millions for centuries.
One was written by the most powerful man in the world—a Roman Emperor campaigning on the Danube frontier.
The other was written by a North African bishop—a former playboy turned theologian.
They are the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius and the Confessions of Saint Augustine.
At first glance, they seem remarkably similar. Both are intensely personal. Both are brutally honest about human weakness. Both are searching for peace in a chaotic world. But when you look closer, you see that they are moving in opposite directions.
While Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations offers a noble strategy of retreating into the “inner citadel” of the self to endure a godless world, Augustine’s Confessions reveals that the self is a trap, and that true peace is found only when the “restless heart” breaks out of the citadel to find its rest in God.
The Emperor: Talking to Himself
Marcus Aurelius never intended his book to be published. The original title was simply Ta eis heauton—”To Himself.” It is a diary of self-coaching.
As we read it, we see a man under immense pressure. He is fighting barbarians, dealing with a plague, and tolerating a scheming court. He feels the weight of the world. And his response to this weight is to talk to himself.
When you wake up in the morning, tell yourself: The people I deal with today will be meddling, ungrateful, arrogant, dishonest, jealous, and surly…[1]
Notice the dynamic. Marcus is split in two. There is the Teacher (his Reason) and the Student (his Emotions). The Teacher constantly lectures the Student, telling him to settle down, stop complaining, and accept his fate.
The “Inner Citadel” is the refuge. Marcus writes:
Nowhere you can go is more peaceful—more free of interruptions—than your own soul.[2]
The resulting tone is one of grim, majestic endurance. It is the loneliness of a man who believes he is the only adult in the room. He cannot lean on God (who is just impersonal Nature), and he cannot lean on people (who are foolish). He can only lean on his own spine.
The Saint: Talking to God
Two centuries later, Augustine writes his masterpiece. But the very first sentence signals a total collapse of the Stoic project.
Great art Thou, O Lord, and greatly to be praised; great is Thy power, and of Thy wisdom there is no end. And man, being a part of Thy creation, desires to praise Thee,—man, who bears about with him his mortality, the witness of his sin, even the witness that Thou “resistest the proproud,”—yet man, this part of Thy creation, desires to praise Thee.[3]
Augustine is not talking to himself. He is talking to God. The entire book is a prayer.
Augustine had tried the Stoic path. He had tried Neo-Platonism. He had tried self-mastery. And he found that his “Inner Citadel” was not a sanctuary; it was a torture chamber. Why? Because of Sin.
- Marcus assumes his Reason is clean and can command his passions.
- Augustine knows his Reason is darkened and his Will is bound. He famously prays, “Give what Thou commandest, and command what Thou wilt.”[4]
The most famous line in the book—perhaps in all of Christian literature—defines the difference:
Thou movest us to delight in praising Thee; for Thou hast formed us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless till they find rest in Thee.[5]
The Pivot: Containment vs. Communion
The difference between the two men comes down to the direction of the cure.
Marcus: The Way of Containment
When Marcus feels pain or desire, he seeks to shrink the problem. He uses the “view from above.” He reminds himself that he is a tiny atom in a vast universe. He tells himself that fame is “clattering of tongues” and death is just “nature.”
His peace comes from making the self smaller and harder. He is trying to become a rock that the waves cannot hurt.
Augustine: The Way of Communion
When Augustine feels pain or desire, he seeks to expand the solution. He pours out his heart to an Infinite Person. He does not deny the pain; he brings it to the Physician.
His peace comes from making the self larger by uniting it to God. He is not a rock; he is a sunflower turning toward the light.
The Problem with the Citadel
We love Marcus because he is the ultimate “Delta”—stoic, strong, uncomplaining. We read him when we need to toughen up. And there is common grace wisdom there.
But there is a tragedy in the Meditations. It is the tragedy of a man who is essentially orphaned. He has to parent himself. He has to soothe his own fears. He has to be his own god.
It is exhausting. You can feel the fatigue in his writing. He is constantly propping up a heavy roof with his own arms.
Augustine, by contrast, admits he cannot hold up the roof. He lets it collapse, only to find that he is standing under the open sky of God’s grace. His book ends not with grim endurance, but with doxology.
Conclusion: The Peace of the Son
The Christian Stoic reads Marcus Aurelius, and he learns Discipline. He learns to wake up early, to do his duty, to ignore the “clattering of tongues.” He admires the Emperor’s spine.
But then he reads Augustine, and he learns Dependence. He learns that he doesn’t have to talk to himself forever. He learns that there is a Father who listens.
We respect the Emperor, but we follow the Saint. We do not seek the peace of the “Inner Citadel,” where we are safe because we are alone. We seek the peace of the Temple, where we are safe because He is here.
In our final article, we will bring this entire series to a close. We will draw the final portrait of the Christian Stoic Man: a man who possesses the discipline of Marcus and the heart of Augustine, living for the glory of Christ.
Key Terms
- Meditations (Ta eis heauton): The personal journals of Emperor Marcus Aurelius (AD 121–180), written as spiritual exercises to maintain his Stoic discipline amidst war and political stress.
- Confessions: The spiritual autobiography of Augustine of Hippo (AD 354–430), written as a sustained prayer to God, detailing his conversion from Manichaeism and sinful ambition to Christianity.
- Cor Inquietum: (Latin, “Restless Heart”). The concept from Augustine’s opening prayer (“our heart is restless until it rests in You”), arguing that human beings are designed with a God-shaped capacity that no finite created thing (Stoic virtue, pleasure, fame) can satisfy.
- Inner Citadel: The Stoic metaphor for the ruling center of the soul (hegemonikon), which must be fortified against external impressions so that the Sage remains safe regardless of circumstances.
[1] Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, trans. Gregory Hays (The Modern Library, 2002), 2.1.
[2] Ibid., 4.3.
[3] Augustine of Hippo, “The Confessions of St. Augustin,” in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, ed. Philip Schaff, trans. J G Pilkington, vol. 1 of 1 (Christian Literature Company, 1886), 1.1.
[4] Ibid., 10.29.
[5] Ibid., 1.1.