A few years before Peter Jackson’s film adaptation of The Fellowship of the Ring came out, I read the whole trilogy for the first time. Many striking aphorisms stuck with me afterwards, among them “Not all who wander are lost.” 

Of course, the release of the films resulted in an enormous wave of interest in the story of The Ring, with the result that “Not all who wander are lost” started appearing on bumper stickers, Facebook pages, Christmas ornaments, you name it—which pretty much separated the original statement from nearly all its true pith. I found myself one night in a Target holding a pillow embroidered with the saying loudly explaining to my 10-year-old that a lot of people who wander actually are lost.  

Maybe something similar has occurred with St. Augustine’s beloved observation, “our hearts are restless until they rest in you.” Christians of all stripes are understandably drawn to this maxim. But for those familiar with The Doctor of Grace and his Confessions, there must arise a little frustration akin to that which preceded my Target outburst. For, while it is true that our hearts are restless—anyone with a teaspoon of self-reflection can discover this—Augustine’s famous phrase is only the first rung on a lofty ladder. 

Instead of my obvious conclusion that there are loads of wandering and lost people in the world, the student of Augustine would observe that the famous quote about restless hearts—which appears extremely early in his spiritual autobiography—raises the crucial question, “How may we bring our hearts to rest in You?” So vital a question is this that the great theologian spends the remaining books of his masterwork laying a foundation for answering it; answering it; and contemplating the answer. 

In a slim but masterful volume, C.C. Pecknold has created a unique companion to Confessions that walks readers through St. Augustine’s classic spiritual memoir, laying bare a beautiful but too-often overlooked thread woven throughout: it is the Sacrifice of the Mass that has the power to bring us to rest in God.

In Fire on the Altar: Setting Our Souls Ablaze Through Augustine’s Confessions, Pecknold relays the essence of each of the 13 books of the work, causing them to hang together in a way I’ve never had the privilege of reading before. Many summaries of Confessions characterize the first part of the work (books 1-9) as autobiographical and the latter part (books 10-13) as philosophical and spiritual. Pecknold instead elucidates a framework that seems much more likely to explain the great Saint’s intentions. It becomes clear that Augustine, far from breaking with one message and shifting gears to another around book 10, was driving toward a single argument: the saving Sacrifice of the Mass enables man to unite himself with and find the true rest he so earnestly needs in the Almighty God who made him and holds him in existence. 

Immediately Pecknold characterizes the restless heart as an objective, not a subjective, reality. This is the first step in realizing that Augustine is taking us on some kind of intentional journey—the restlessness of our hearts (like Aragorn’s wandering) has a purpose. There is an objective answer for the restlessness.

Again, while the autobiographical incidents relayed by Augustine may seem like a subjective wandering along the path his life has taken, Pecknold reveals a throughline within the text that makes the famous incidents of his youth—the pears, the mother of Adeodatus, his sneaky journey across the Mediterranean—revelations of the nature shared by all men and of the roots and consequences of sin.

We see that Augustine repeatedly returns the reader to the theme of sacrifice. Man is a creature of sacrifice and offering. When he sins, he offers a foul sacrifice; the evidence for this is abundant. Prayer and contemplation are also sacrifices and offerings, good ones at that. But do they provide the final answer for our restless hearts? (This is where Protestant admirers of Augustine should really take heed.) Because even the highest forms of prayer and contemplation are temporary endeavors, it is evident that they fall short of what the heart truly seeks: total union.  

Since Christ is the one true and perfect Sacrifice, what our hearts need is a means to latch on, to connect, to somehow become one in essence with him; to be so immersed in the river of his grace that we become Who it is.  Since Christ is the one true and perfect Sacrifice, what our hearts need is a means to latch on, to connect, to somehow become one in essence with him; to be so immersed in the river of his grace that we become Who it is. Tweet This

This essential means, Augustine makes abundantly clear, is the Eucharist. Finally, instead of a foul sacrifice, instead of a sacrifice like prayer and contemplation from which we must constantly “fall back” to ourselves or to the physical world (see books 4 and 7), we have discovered not only the highest, most pure Sacrifice, but a way to unite ourselves with it. To turn the altars of our hearts around to Our Lord, away from the foul offering of sin. Placing on the altar a “heart contrite and humble (Ps 51),” our souls are set ablaze; consumed by his fire, we become like the fire.

The faithful owe a debt of gratitude to C.C. Pecknold for providing this genuinely, thoroughly Catholic explication of Augustine’s masterpiece in a slim volume that will intimidate no one. The depth of meaning he unpacks will have students of the great Father nodding and cheering him on, while those new to Augustine’s writings will find a trusty guide. 

Thanks be to God, we need not wander. We can bring him our restless hearts in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.