At the heart of philosophical and theological reflection lies a question as simple as it is decisive: what is something in its essence? When we ask what a human being is, or what it means to be made in the image of God, we are posing ontological questions – that is, questions about being, about the deepest nature of things, prior to any action, function, or behaviour.
Ontology, in simple terms, is the study of being as being. Unlike morality, which guides us on what we ought to do, ontology seeks to understand what we are. To ask “Should I be good?” is an ethical question. To ask “What is goodness?” or “What does it mean to be good?” already brings us into the ontological realm. This distinction is essential for Christian theology, as it concerns not only human behaviour, but the identity of the creature before its Creator.
In the context of Christian faith, this question becomes even more radical: God does not merely do good – He is Good. His essence is perfection itself. To say that God is ontologically perfect is to recognise that in Him there is no separation between being and acting, between essence and existence. He is absolute, eternal, necessary Being. Everything that exists outside of Him exists in a participated, dependent, contingent way.
It is within this perspective that Saint Augustine develops his theology of being. In his reading of Genesis, Augustine observes that the soul, while not turned towards God, remains in a state of “darkness”. This darkness is not merely moral, but ontological. The soul exists, yes, but its existence is somehow “diminished”, incomplete, lacking light and form. He calls this ontological informity — the absence of fullness in the being of a soul that has not yet returned to its origin.
For Augustine, evil is not a substance, not a “thing” created. Evil is, ontologically, a deprivation of good — an absence, a lack of order, beauty, and form. This means that sin does not “add” anything to being, but rather disfigures it. A hardened heart does not gain a new substance, but has lost something that once made it more fully human. Being, therefore, is not static, but something that intensifies the more the creature unites itself to God, the source of Being.
This thought is expressed clearly in his Confessions, when he states: “If we exist, it is because we were created. If we were created, it was by the Being who is in Himself.” The creature does not possess being on its own — it receives, it participates. And its greatest dignity lies precisely in recognising this dependence, in turning back to the source that sustains it. The soul, in turning away from God, does not become something else — it merely becomes less than it was called to be.
Thus, Christian ontology invites us to think of conversion not merely as a moral adjustment, but as an ontological return. To convert is to rediscover the fullness of being. It is not enough to merely exist — one must fully be, and this only occurs in the light of God. In this way, Augustine’s theology of being teaches us that the spiritual life is an interior exodus: from chaos to form, from darkness to light, from fragmented existence to union with the absolute Being.
This is the true vocation of man: not merely to act well, but to be good – to be whole, true, and enlightened, because he is united to the One who is, by essence, Goodness itself.
Throughout his work De Genesi ad litteram, Saint Augustine is not merely commenting on the verses of Genesis; he is constructing a theological edifice that blends exegesis, metaphysics, and spirituality. In interpreting the opening verses of Scripture, Augustine offers more than a symbolic reading – he presents a true ontology of creation. In other words, he teaches that Genesis speaks, above all, about being, about what it means to exist in the light of God.
In the first paragraph of his work, he draws attention to the manner in which Scripture should be read. The Bible is not a mere chronological record of ancient events. It is the living Word, which forms us within time, yet is rooted in eternity. For this reason, it must be read on multiple levels: literal, moral, allegorical, and anagogical. The events narrated carry figures, and these figures point to eternal realities. This approach does not relativise the text; on the contrary, it renders it more true. Scripture, for Augustine, reveals not only what happened, but what is, and how it is – in the deepest sense of being.
This interpretive key leads us to the second paragraph, where Augustine explores the theological depth of the phrase “In the beginning.” He asks: is this the beginning of time, or the eternal Word, as affirmed in John 1:1? And more profoundly, how can the immutable God – who is the same yesterday, today, and forever – bring forth that which changes, which transforms, which has a beginning? Here, Augustine reaches the heart of Christian metaphysics: God is the absolute, eternal, and perfect Being, and all that exists does so because it shares in His being. Creation, therefore, is not a necessity in God, but a free gift. Time begins with the world, but the principle of all things lies in the Word – eternal, immutable, the source of all light and order.
This eternal principle also illuminates the third paragraph, in which Augustine turns to the condition of creatures. He suggests that the heavens mentioned in Genesis may symbolise the spiritual creature – the angels – while the earthrepresents corporeal matter, still formless. But he goes further: he proposes that both – spiritual and corporeal – were in darkness, not because they were evil, but because they had not yet fully turned towards God. This initial condition is what he terms ontological informity – a state of being still incomplete, lacking light, form, and fulfilment.
Here we find the deepest point of Augustine’s theological anthropology: the soul only finds its fulfilment when it is oriented towards God. Outside of Him, it remains in a state of abyss – it exists, but not in the full sense of being. Sin, in this context, is not a substance but a privation. It adds nothing to being; it merely disfigures it, like a shadow that exists only by the absence of light.
Centuries later, Saint Thomas Aquinas would systematise and deepen this ontological framework with metaphysical precision. For Thomas, being – esse – is the most fundamental act of everything that exists. He distinguishes between essence (what something is) and existence (the fact that something is). Only in God do these two realities coincide perfectly: in God, being and essence are one and the same. All creatures, however diverse – from a stone to an angel – participate in being because they receive this gift from God. He is the Actus Essendi – the Pure Act of Being – and everything that exists, exists by participation in Him.
This understanding has direct implications for human dignity. For Thomas, the human being does not have value because of utility, but because of nature: man is the image of God because he is capable of knowing the truth and loving freely. This capacity to know and to love is not merely a psychological function – it is an ontological mark. Even an unborn child in the womb, who has not yet spoken or thought consciously, is already a person. His dignity lies in what he is, not in what he may one day do.
Contemporary theology – particularly through thinkers like Joseph Ratzinger (Benedict XVI) – recognises that the modern crisis is, at its core, a crisis of being. When man ceases to ask what he is, he also loses the sense of how to act, why to live, and where he is heading. The forgetting of ontology leads to moral relativism, the dissolution of identity, and the loss of life’s ultimate meaning. Therefore, returning to ontology – to the foundation of being – is also a return to the truth about God, about man, and about creation.
All of this helps us understand why Augustine insists so strongly on the spiritual reading of Genesis. When he speaks of the earth as “formless and void”, covered in darkness, he is telling us more than the initial state of the universe – he is revealing the condition of the soul that has not yet been illumined. Conversion, in this context, is not merely a moral change, but an ontological return to the source of being. It is the soul ceasing to be shadow in order to become light – not by its own merit, but through grace received. God creates the soul, but the way in which it participates in the light depends on the openness it offers to the Creator.
This is why the reading of Genesis proposed by Augustine is both cosmic and personal. It speaks of the universe, but also of the soul. It speaks of time, but also of eternity. It speaks of the creation of the world, but above all, of the re-creation of man. By bringing together Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, and the living theological tradition of the Church, we come to understand that Scripture reveals a fundamental truth: only God is in Himself. Everything else is truly only to the extent that it returns to Him.
In summary, the Bible – and especially Genesis – does not merely reveal what happened, but what is, how it is, and why it is. It teaches us that creation is a continuous act of love, that being is a gift, and that the spiritual life is a process of ontological formation: from darkness to light, from abyss to fulfilment, from existence to communion.
The Anthology of Divine Creation
An essay based on Chapters 1 and 2 of De Genesi ad litteram by Saint Augustine. Ideal for a deeper understanding of the theme of creation, in light of the Catechism of the Catholic Church.