Imitation I, 2

 

Aristotle opens his book on Metaphysics with the observation, “All men by nature desire to know.” From the emphasis we place today on education and information gathering (not identical things, by the way) we have ample confirmation of our innate and fundamental yearning to know. Yet this aspiring to possess knowledge doesn’t discriminate between knowledge that is good or that is evil; knowledge that is useful or not useful. What is required to tame and direct this aspiring-to-know is a virtue–and its name is prudence. It is only the prudent man, the man of sound judgment, who wisely chooses the objects of his knowing. Since one could become proficient in the knowledge of evil, or of what is trivial, there must be the guidance gained from prudence to steer man towards the knowledge of what is truly worthy of being known. (It’s tempting to make a digression on how much of college attending today is foolishness, but I’ll keep to the main course here.)

 

Religion is certainly a great boon for acquiring the needed prudence because religion constantly nags at us, making us question ourselves whether or not we may be doing the right thing. This disposition, well-cultivated, leads one to what we call “the examined life”. It is the good habit of being self-critical, of evaluating oneself in the performance of all one’s actions, that enables a man to arrive at perfection. In summary: the desire to know, guided by prudence, leads to perfection which is goal of the good life.

 

But, as we have said before–in our sermons on the commandments–the aim of the Christian life has to be more than merely being a good person. In the end, we are meant to become saints, not only just men and women. To come to the blest state of sainthood, however, requires a higher kind of prudence, and the higher knowledge than one can attain even from the most demanding studies. It necessitates knowing God and the things of God.

 

When Saint Paul addressed the Corinthians (reading number two for today), he knew that the Greeks had a predilection for the specific science devoted to the attainment of wisdom, philosophy, the love of truth. Saint Paul does not deny value in such a praiseworthy human endeavor as the study of philosophy. (He even says that he came among the Greeks with “fear and trepidation”–a revealing statement that he knew he was addressing an audience of what we would call intellectuals.) Nevertheless, Saint Paul proposes to them a higher kind of knowledge, one that they formerly did not know, could not have known: the knowing of Jesus Christ crucified. And he says, later in the same letter to the Corinthians, that even if someone would possess all knowledge but lack charity, it would count for nothing.

 


Just how valuable is this knowledge of Christ? It won’t get you a better job necessarily (aside: how unfortunate, that this is often the first thing that comes to mind when people estimate the advantage of learning: will help you get more money?). Knowing Christ will not of itself make you smarter, brighter, more admired. This knowledge does not even require a high mental capacity. I quote the Imitation of Christ here: “The humble countryman who serves God is more pleasing to Him than a conceited intellectual who knows the course of the stars, but neglects his own soul.” Faith gives us a real knowledge, but a knowledge of another kind and–we must insist–of a kind superior to all other forms of knowledge, and one that is accessible to all men regardless of their native capability for learning. This knowledge encompasses the self-realization that oneself is nothing and that were he to acquire all things but without God, this would make him a very poor man indeed.

 

Knowing Christ will not necessarily mean that you will praised or esteemed–some may even deride you for pursuing a spiritual life. But religion has to do with salvation, the attainment of something that, if it exists–an eternal life of joy and fulfillment (and certainly it does exist), then one ought to go about getting it with all his available strength. Moreover, pursuit of the spiritual life “refreshes the mind” and brings the great relief of a pure conscience–things which cannot be had merely by gaining much knowledge.

 

Those who have great minds and who gain much knowledge will have the more to answer for before God: and this is OK, if along with knowledge, they have become holy through the grace and the practice of the faith. One reason that religion is often eschewed by intellectuals is that it imposes the uncomfortable reminder of human limitation–that limitation that should make the spiritual man humble....and humility comes especially hard for the intellectually gifted. Religion goes yet further. It encourages one to cultivate taking delight in being unknown and repudiated. (How our faith makes us war against our native disposition towards pride!)

 

The Imitation here offers some beneficial thoughts. When we think about others we should have only good thoughts about them. Should we find them doing evil, we should not account ourselves any better than they since “we cannot tell how long we will remain in a state of grace.” All are frail. Wisdom leads us to think of ourselves as the frailest among men.

 

This Christian kind of talk will not win over those whose hearing is not attuned to Christ. But for anyone who has that Pauline sort of ‘knowledge’ recognizes truth in these counsels to humility. This is the virtue that brings down the mercy and blessing of God. No matter who you are, nor the number or quality of your natural gifts, you all have the vocation to holiness, a “call to holiness” that leads to eternal life.

 

Let’s rival one another for attaining first place in this school where Jesus Christ is the one and only subject that must be mastered.