Lent 2026 - Reading #31 - Faith
Reading
Saint Augustine, in his Enchiridion, reflects on the relationship between faith and understanding: "Understanding is the reward of faith. Therefore, seek not to understand that you may believe, but believe that you may understand. For unless you believe, you will not understand. Faith goes before; understanding follows. Let faith be your step, and understanding shall be your reward." Augustine elsewhere writes in his Tractates on the Gospel of John: "We must not suppose that believing is a small thing. What does it mean to believe in Him? It means by believing to love Him, by believing to esteem Him, by believing to go into Him and to be incorporated in His members. It is faith itself, then, that God exacts from us; and He finds not what to exact unless He has bestowed what He may find." For Augustine, faith is not opposed to reason but precedes and enables it. Just as a student must trust a teacher before understanding the lesson, so the soul must trust God before comprehending his ways. And this trust is itself a gift, even our capacity to believe is bestowed by the One in whom we believe. Augustine's vision of faith is thus profoundly humble: we contribute nothing to our own salvation that has not first been given to us.
Reflection
Thirty-three days deep in Lent, and Augustine offers us the radical humility that lies at the heart of faith. Our journey through the virtues reaches a turning point here: for the first time, we encounter a virtue that we cannot produce by our own effort. The cardinal virtues, though perfected by grace, are natural human capacities. Faith is supernatural, a gift from start to finish. "Believe that you may understand." This is not anti-intellectualism; it is the deepest realism about the human condition. We live surrounded by mysteries we cannot resolve by analysis alone, the mystery of suffering, the mystery of other persons, the mystery of our own hearts. At some point, every person must choose: either trust nothing beyond what they can personally verify, or open themselves to a Reality larger than their comprehension. Faith is that opening. In Lent, this takes practical form. Perhaps you have been praying and feeling nothing. Perhaps the readings and reflections of this journey have stirred your mind but left your heart cold. Augustine would say: keep going. Faith is not a feeling; it is a trust, and trust is proven not in moments of consolation but in moments of dryness. The very fact that you are still here, still reading, still fasting, still praying, is itself an act of faith. You are believing in order to understand. Understanding will come, perhaps not on your schedule, but it will come. God is faithful even when our faith falters.