Spirituality

Image by Pete Linforth from Pixabay

Friday, October 10, 2025Spirituality

Submit a Letter to the Editor

... where in that scheme, St. Augustine asks, are we enjoined to love the holy angels? Do the angels fall outside Christian charity?

Michael
Pakaluk

It is evidence of the greatness of St. Augustine's mind as a Catholic thinker that he poses a question about fundamentals of the Christian life that few ask but which, once raised, obviously needs to be asked. In his short treatise, "On Christian Doctrine," he raises the following problem.
All of the law and the prophets, we are told, hang up on the two commandments, to love God with our whole heart, soul, strength and mind, and to love our neighbor as ourself. These are the two precepts of charity. Charity is the supreme virtue for a Christian. And these two precepts, St. Augustine argues so elegantly in that same treatise, also imply a structure of love in a Christian's life -- which is called traditionally the "order of charity" -- God in first place; one's self next, for the sake of God; then one's neighbor, as oneself; and fourth and finally, one's body for the sake of one's neighbor.
The scheme looks comprehensive, true enough. But where in that scheme, St. Augustine asks, are we enjoined to love the holy angels? Do the angels fall outside Christian charity? Surely, we should love them. And yet the two precepts don't tell us to love them.

You cannot say that in being commanded to love God, we are by implication commanded to love the angels, on the grounds that the angels are in the image of God. If this reasoning were sound, no second precept would be necessary, because we, too, are in the image of God. Similarly, if the love we should have for our fellow human beings deserves its own precept, then the love of the angels presumably deserves its own precept, too.
If this difficulty does not bother you, then it could be that you do not have a sufficiently lively sense of the reality of angels, or you do not appreciate that the two precepts are meant as the comprehensive commandments for ordering the whole of a Christian life. The saints have lived in a world of angels. They "see" them at work, surrounding the tabernacle in a church, for instance, or standing guard beside them or over a household. And in ancient law codes, for a commandment to be "first" meant not that it came first in a list, but that it was pervasive and fundamental in its force.
However, the two precepts do enjoin us to love the angels, St. Augustine insists. The reason (and this is how he solves the difficulty) is that the angels count as our "neighbors." Consider the parable of the Good Samaritan, he says (which was read as the Gospel for us, last Sunday in Mass). In the parable, a priest sees the distressed man and deliberately takes a detour around him, and so does the Levite. But the Samaritan, when he sees him, goes directly to him and tends to his injuries. "Who was neighbor to that man?" Our Lord asks. The Samaritan, obviously -- which is to say, St. Augustine comments, that "neighbor" means not someone who is close by in space, but rather anyone who has a duty to care for another. However, the holy angels clearly have such a duty towards us. Therefore, they are neighbors to us.
But the relation of "neighbor," St. Augustine points out, is symmetrical by its very meaning. "Neighbor" simply means "near to," and if A is near to B, then B must be near to A. It follows, then, that the holy angels are among our neighbors, because we are among their neighbors. Therefore, whenever we say, "Love your neighbor as yourself," we should consider that this term, "neighbor," includes the angels.
Such a reflection also serves as a corrective to our conceptions of self-love, because angels have no needs. To love them, therefore, can only mean loving them "for the sake of God," that is, affirming and wanting their union with God, which is how we should love ourselves also.
St. Augustine's interpretation seems to have been corroborated by the liturgical year, in the wisdom of God. One week ago, we lived through the days when the church observed the feast of the Archangels (Sept. 29) and of the Guardian Angels (Oct. 2). And then, immediately following, in Sunday Mass (Oct. 5), we heard the parable of the Good Samaritan -- the very Gospel passage which, St. Augustine thinks, implicitly enjoins love of the angels.
St. Augustine, as is typical of him, next carries the argument a step further, to raise a new difficulty. In the parable, he says, the figure of the Good Samaritan clearly stands for the Lord and his mercy towards us. He has borne our sins; he has washed our feet; and he waits for us in the tabernacle. The Lord has made himself neighbor to us; therefore, he is our neighbor. Therefore, the second precept of charity commands us to love God. Why, then, is a first precept needed?
"As the Divine nature is of higher excellence than, and far removed above our nature," the saint replies, "the command to love God is distinct from that to love our neighbor. For he shows us mercy on account of his own goodness, but we show mercy to one another on account of his -- that is, he shows us mercy that we may fully enjoy himself; we show one another mercy that we may fully enjoy him."

- Michael Pakaluk, an Aristotle scholar and Ordinarius of the Pontifical Academy of St. Thomas Aquinas, is a professor in the Busch School of Business at the Catholic University of America. He lives in Hyattsville, MD, with his wife Catherine, also a professor at the Busch School, and their eight children. His latest book is "Be Good Bankers: The Economic Interpretation of Matthew's Gospel."