Augustine, on God

Augustine of Hippo is the most influential Christian thinker between the apostle Paul and the Reformation (although Thomas Aquinas may be able to give Augustine a run for his money).  This excerpt from the beginnng of Augustine's Confessions is an example why.  It offers more insight for contemplation than you'll find in entire books of theology, or an entire lifetime of a preacher's sermons.  While translators typically present it as prose, I've laid it out in a poetic form to make it easier to reflect upon.  (The translation from the original Latin is by R. S. Pine-Coffin).

You, my God, are

      supreme,

      utmost in goodness,

      mightiest and all-powerful,

      most merciful and most just.

You are the most hidden from us and yet the most present amongst us,

the most beautiful and yet the most strong,

ever enduring and yet we cannot comprehend you.

You are unchangeable and yet you change all things.

You are never new, never old, and yet all things have new life from you.

You are the unseen power that brings decline upon the proud.

You are ever active, yet always at rest.

You gather all things to yourself, though you suffer no need.

You support, you fill, and you protect all things.

You create them, nourish them, and bring them to perfection.

You seek to make them your own, though you lack for nothing.

You love your creatures, but with a gentle love.

You treasure them, but without apprehension.

You grieve for wrong, but suffer no pain.

You can be angry and yet serene.

Your works are varied, but your purpose is one and the same.

You welcome all who come to you, though you never lost them.

You are never in need yet are glad to gain,

never covetous yet you exact a return for your gifts.  

We give abundantly to you so that we may deserve a reward;

      yet which of us has anything that does not come from you?

You repay us what we deserve, and yet you owe nothing to any.

You release us from our debts, but you lose nothing thereby.

You are my God,

      my Life,

      my holy Delight.

But is this enough to say of you?

      Can any man say enough when he speaks of you?

Yet woe betide those who are silent about you!

      For even those who are most gifted with speech cannot find words to describe you.