¹ Today, dearest brothers, we celebrate the deposition of our lord and father, Bishop Augustine, of blessed memory. As I silently marvel at his apostolic merits, the image of the high priest Aaron comes to my mind—his attire and vestments, which prefigure the various graces and virtues. According to the ordinances of the Old Testament, in reverence for the mysteries of the ancient law, the great high priest, when about to enter the Holy of Holies, was adorned with various insignia.

² Among the splendid ornaments—which, to the eyes of onlookers, appeared miraculous but, to the discerning, revealed mysteries—there was a hem of the robe extending to the very edges, with a row of bells skillfully fastened along the lower border. These bells solemnly resounded as he walked, so that his very attire declared that it was not permitted for the holy priest to remain silent. Moreover, as the priest entered the Holy of Holies, the bells did not sound from any other part of his garments but specifically from the edges. This undoubtedly signified that whenever the priest entered the temple of God, he should never cease to cry out about the rewards of the righteous and the punishments of sinners—speaking of the end of this world and the conclusion of the present age. Thus, by proclaiming these truths, he would both encourage the just toward good and deter the wicked from evil, so that all might together attain eternal rewards.

³ Therefore, I do not now fear being presumptuous in boldly preaching about our special patron, the great and holy Augustine. I say “boldly,” for I do not consider it presumption if I, who am spiritually unworthy, declare myself to be but a single bell at the hem of his garment. Clinging, as it were, to the very edges of his doctrine, may I receive from his merits the sound of a voice. And stirred by his example, may I—though with a faint and feeble ring—nonetheless echo something of his virtues. By recalling his merits, may I strike a chord in your hearts, awakening them with the remembrance of this holy man.

⁴ Following this, as we have mentioned, the ornaments that divine mercy granted to Saint Augustine with the light of his merits, we find yet another likeness in the Old Testament. On the forehead of the high priest was a gold plate that shone brilliantly, symbolizing the purity of conscience through the gleam of the metal. Likewise, he wore a jeweled ephod upon his shoulders and a precious breastplate over his chest, signifying that the dignity of his external appearance was meant to remind him of the refinement he must cultivate within. On this breastplate, the priest Aaron bore the names of the sons of Israel, woven into it with the skill of a gem-cutter.

⁵ Thus, we rejoice to see the magnificence of Aaron’s sacred vestments reflected in the praiseworthy virtues and the spiritual gems of grace that adorned our lord of holy memory, Augustine. Yet, in him, these ornaments shone far more brightly and truly. What was merely represented in the vestments of Aaron was manifest in Augustine, either by the evident grace he received or by the merits he attained.

⁶ In Aaron, the gold plate adorned his physical forehead, but in Augustine, it was the golden radiance of modesty and the precious brilliance of sincerity that illuminated the forehead of his soul. The ancient adornments of rare stones and the insignia of elaborate craftsmanship were merely placed upon the priest. But in Augustine, the largesse of grace bestowed these virtues upon him as permanent gifts. What was once merely a crafted figure in Aaron became, in Augustine, a living reality perfected by the hand of the Creator.

⁷ Aaron wore these vestments only once a year, and then laid them aside. But Augustine knew how to clothe himself with these virtues as part of his very nature, never to cast them off—even when laying down his mortal body. Instead, he would bring them with him to the Creator, united with his spirit. In Aaron, these ornaments were but a passing symbol; in Augustine, they were an enduring truth.

⁸ It remains, therefore, that you should make progress in all things by following the heavenly teachings and unique examples of Saint Augustine. For in him, you have everything abundantly available—whether it pertains to edification, calls to life, or exalts to glory. If you seek the disposition of good will in him, the works of mercy cry out. If you desire patience, the ornaments of gentleness appear. If you inquire into the secrets of a pure conscience, the emblems of chastity respond. The balm of kindness exudes fragrance, the spices of piety give off their aroma, and the jewels of knowledge and wisdom shine brightly.

⁹ Amidst all this, we greatly fear that the merits of Saint Augustine, while conveyed through the affection of preaching, may be obscured by the inadequacy of our words. For before he cast off the secular way of life to become a follower of the heavenly one and took up the standard of holy service, he secretly lived as a soldier of the Lord, in fear and awe, hidden for a time. Though still present in this world, he was, in a sense, already on its outermost edges. Thus, when he eventually embraced public life, he did not so much become what he was not, but rather revealed what had previously been hidden.

¹⁰ Therefore, during his youthful years, when the allure of lust sought to paint and impress upon him the fleeting charms of transient things, he perceived the fleeting sweetness of passing and destructive pleasures. Though the world sought to bind him with the varied chains of its enticements, adding its violent snares, and though it strove to embrace him with the splendour of his lineage, wealth, character, sharpness of mind, and great memory—displaying the diverse gifts of grace he possessed—the enticements of this life were as many fetters to him. Feeling these pleasures to be bonds, he resolved not to trust in uncertainties, determining that he could not consent to them.

¹¹ For in slippery evils, it is precisely because they pass quickly—like a flower that briefly shows itself and then fades—that they are believed to be delightful. Yet, for that very reason, they were all the more suspect to him, for they captivate their pursuer with their appearance, destroy him with their pleasure, and abandon him with their swiftness.

¹² Thus, considering the emptiness of all the things in this present world, and gathering them before his eyes, he looked down on them from the height of wisdom. Comparing them with eternal realities, he rejected them as nothing. With his heart already infused with God, he fortified himself with the consolations and meditations of faith, saying to the passing figure of this deceitful world: “I will have nothing more in common with you. I will gain victory over you by abandoning you. In doing so, I will suffer no loss, but instead, through my renunciation of you, I will claim the prize of triumph over you.”

¹³ Oh, how nothing you are, and how much, at times, the vanity of earthly things deceives! You seem so great when you are held on to, but you offer far more when you are rejected. You captivate your followers by being sought, but you glorify your despisers by being scorned—bestowing great riches on them through their hatred and flight from you. What more can be said? Amidst the shipwrecks of this life, Saint Augustine, enclosed and tossed about by the waves of this world, was like Jonah in the jaws of that devouring and monstrous beast. Yet, even though unwilling, the world was forced to vomit him out as he cried out to the Lord from the depths. And so, it cast him forth to the benefit of all the churches, for whose edification he had been prepared.

¹⁴ For such is the nature of justice and virtue: the more earnestly they seek to remain hidden, the more brightly they become known. Their very concealment becomes a revelation. Thus, the fame of his goodness, known to all, spread among the people, and the fragrance of his most delightful sweetness shone far and wide. Even in a humble place, he stood out in the admiration of all, like a city set upon a mountaintop. No longer could the lamp be hidden under a bushel basket, nor could the brilliance of his greatness be confined or contained. It overflowed with a star-like radiance.

¹⁵ Thus, a great lamp is not lit for itself, but to cast its beautiful light far and wide, illuminating all around with the fiery brilliance of doctrine. By the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns as God forever and ever. Amen.