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Philosophy As a Way of Life - Part I

5/25/2020

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In previous articles, I’ve stressed the fact that, at the dawn of Greek philosophy, the main goal of Presocratics thinkers was to find rational causes to natural phenomena, and that, through a constant attempt to understanding and explaining nature, they were also confronted with two major problems: the question of God and the question of man. As time went by, these two other topics grew in importance. As we will see later, anthropology and ethics became central issues with Socrates. Then, Platon and Aristotle each played a key role in the acquisition of enduring metaphysical knowledge. The study of the physical world led to the study of the soul and of God.  

Indeed, the search for an "archè", i.e. for a foundational principle explaining the cosmos, led Greek philosophers to define ever more clearly the nature of that underlying one cause of everything, which would be explicitly identified with God in Aristotle’ works (3rd century BC). Furthermore, the cosmological knowledge philosophers were trying to acquire couldn’t help but impact their understanding of man as a spiritual being, and of good human life as a way of properly interacting with the world as well as with other-worldly realities so as to achieve the philosophical ideal of wisdom, which alone allows human beings to live up to their spiritual vocation. 

All this makes Greek philosophy very interesting in the eyes of Christians, who consider that the knowledge of God is the climatic experience we are meant to live in Heaven (“Now this is eternal life, that they should know you, the only true God” (Jn 17:3)); and who are themselves in search of a way of life attuned to the highest knowledge possible, a way of life worthy of the wisdom they were blessed to receive through God’s graceful revelation. The only difference between Greeks and Christians here, is that the knowledge Christians rely on is primarily revealed, and that their effort to live wisely depends on their good will for sure, but mostly on God’s grace.

What we ought to understand about what was said so far is this: the philosophical quest for theoretical knowledge was really just the first aspect of a broader and engaging endeavour, that of living wisely a good human life, a life lived in accordance with the highest knowledge possible about human nature, the cosmos, and its ultimate principle. Therefore, we shouldn’t see ancient philosophy merely as an intellectual endeavour aimed at knowledge. It was an existential commitment to the pursuit of wisdom, understood as a way of thinking, behaving and being all together. In sum, it was seen as a way of life. So just as Christianity can’t be reduced to a simple theological worldview, ancient philosophy can’t be studied as if it were only a theoretical “game”.

The similarity between the Christian religion and ancient Greek thought goes even further. We know that Christianity is calling for conversion, that is to say for an inner and outer transformation of man. So does ancient Greek philosophy, especially from the moment Socrates (c. 470 – 399 BC) appeared on the stage of History, and focused most of his discussions and debates with other philosophers, not on cosmological problems, but on anthropological ones. If Christianity is not merely a way of thinking, but a way of life, the same thing is true about philosophy. And, in both cases, the purpose of preaching and/or teaching is the same: to urge or enable conversion. Christianity offers a path of inner enlightenment and moral improvement that reshapes the whole self and reorient it toward truth, goodness and happiness. Ancient Greek philosophy claimed to do the same, in its own ascetical and contemplative way.  

We are indebted to a French scholar named Pierre Hadot (1922-2010), for having rediscovered ancient philosophy for what it really was, namely, a school of spiritual and existential growth,  rather than a purely “scientific” attempt to better know the world. This understanding of “philosophy as a way of life” and as an ongoing effort to comply with the basic philosophical and ethical rules implied by this way of life, is particularly adequate and relevant when studying the Hellenistic period (332 BC - 30 BC), where six philosophical schools, offering six different “ways of life”, were flourishing. They were all presenting themselves as fellowship, where a master/disciple relationship, friendship among its members, and the constant practice of spiritual exercises (understood as the shaping of mental discipline through reflection, imagination, and sensitivity) were all used as levers allowing the disciple to advance on the path of true lived wisdom.

Platonism, Aristotelism, Stoicism, Epicurism, Cynicism and Scepticism were promoting different ways of life, the aim of which was, no matter the theoretical, ascetical or ethical differences between each school, to reshape one’s worldview and one’s behaviour, so as to master one’s passions and live in accordance with the cosmic law (oftentimes assimilated to a divine principle) and fairly with all men. This renewed way of looking at ancient philosophy helps us to relate more easily to these men of the past, because, as Christians, we can spontaneously identify with their eagerness to become better men, through the understanding of a new vision of the world and the putting into practice of a new spiritual and moral behaviour, strengthened by spiritual exercises aimed at a profound and complete transformation of the self. These men were looking for the truth. They were also looking for justice and happiness. Just like us.


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Two Reasons Why Catholics Should Bother About Ancient Greek Culture and Philosophy

5/21/2020

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One can understandably wonder why the Catholic faithful should familiarize themselves, at least at a basic level, not only with the Jewish roots of their faith, but also with ancient Greek culture and philosophy. After all, Pentecost happened in Jerusalem, not Athens. That is true, as it is true that none of this intellectual and cultural baggage is of absolute necessity to make our way to Heaven: “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Cor 12:9)

One could arguably say that sometimes it is even better not to pay attention at all to this complicated philosophical stuff, since, as the apostle Paul puts it in 1 Corinthians 8:1: “knowledge inflates with pride.” That is also very true. And this is why the entire Christian tradition is filled with testimonies of saints and great theologians, reminding us that holiness comes through the listening of God’s whispers, which we primarily find in silent prayer, not books. 

See, for instance, what Isaac of Nineveh (c. 613 – c. 700), a famous saint and theologian of the Orthodox Church, says on this topic: "Many seek eagerly, but only those who remain in constant silence do find... Every man who delights in the abundance of words, even if he says admirable things, is empty deep inside. If you love the truth, be a lover of silence." And this is only one among many reminders of our utter powerlessness to grasp God’s mystery with words.

But, at the same time, Jesus is called the “logos”, in the prologue of John’s Gospel. “Logos” is a Greek word, which we translate into English as “Word”. In coming to dwell among us, the divine Word not only acted, he spoke to us, using human words. And in doing so, he revealed something of God’s mystery to us. Which means that human words also are effective conduits of the divine truths, if filled with grace. Therefore, we shouldn’t underestimate the role of words. They can also foster an encounter with God. “Thus, faith comes from what is heard.” (Rm 10, 17)

The Catechism of the Catholic Church is pretty clear about both truths. Firstly, that “our human words always fall short of the mystery of God”. And secondly, that, “in speaking about God like [we do], our language is using human modes of expression; nevertheless, it really does attain to God himself, though unable to express him in his infinite simplicity.” (CCC, 42-43). In sum, human words echoing those of the divine Word offer a reliable glimpse of God's real identity. Just as the Word is a bridge between God and us, our human words can be bridges leading to God. 

It is also said: “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.” (Mt 22: 37). Which means that our whole self, our mind included, is meant to actualize our commitment to love God. And that’s exactly why Paul tells the Ephesians he is writing to that he prays for them, so “that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give [them] a spirit of wisdom and revelation resulting in knowledge of him.” (Ep 1:8). It follows from what we have said that thinking is also a means of knowing, loving and serving God.

It so happens that thought develops and unfolds through the use of language and that most early Christian thinkers meditated upon God’s unfathomable mysteries in Greek. The founding texts of our ecclesial tradition (namely the four Gospels, the book of Acts, the apostolic letters and the book of Revelation) were all written in Greek. The most sublime truths human beings were told by God were “imbedded” into a pagan language, into Greek words carrying with them an array of ideas, cultural references, linguistic possibilities that were originally foreign to the Biblical thought.

The Bible reveals us God’s heart. So, it is as if, to present himself before us, God clothed his heart first with the Hebrew language, because he wanted to speak first and foremost to his chosen people. But when he undertook the job of revealing to the whole world the greatest mystery of all (that of the Trinity) through the sending of his Son and his Holy Spirit, he decided to clothe his heart with the Greek language. That is the first reason why learning a few things about ancient Greek culture and philosophy is relevant to us. But there are many more...

One other good reason is that Judaism itself, though opposed to any kind of paganization of its faith (see the two books of the Maccabees), also underwent a process of Hellenization of their culture, i.e. a process of adaptation to Greek culture and adoption of some Greek cultural features), resulting, for instance, in the writing of some important biblical texts in Greek, those we call deuterocanonical (1). The Book of Wisdom, last book of the Old Testament to be written, was originally composed in Greek, “most likely in Alexandria, Egypt”, around the year 50 BC.

And there are many more reasons... 

__________

(1) Hellenization, for better or for worse, started with the expansion of the Greek Empire and the Macedonian conquest of Judea and Samaria by Alexander’s army in the year 333 BC. Prior to that, the Jewish people had been living under Persian rule for about two centuries. 

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The Love of Knowledge and the Desire for God in Ancient Greece - Part II

5/15/2020

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Kalamitsi beach, Lefkada island, Ionian sea, Greece.
Because of their revolutionary method (empirical and logical rather than merely traditional and mythical) and the type of causation they sought in their inquiry into nature (natural causes rather than supernatural), the first generations of philosophers, those we call the Presocratics, have undermined traditional beliefs based on mythical thought. Nonetheless, they remained forever indebted to religion in that they attempted to answer questions religion had formulated in the first place from time immemorial (questions about the ultimate origins and foundations of things).

In their attempt “to explain the world in terms of its own inherent principles” (1), the first philosophers mainly dealt with cosmological problems, but also ethical and theological ones. Why exactly? Firstly, because their desire to know knew no boundaries. Secondly, because they believed these questions were interconnected, just as all existing things were. In doing so, they  were again the inheritors of another particular aspect of mythical thinking, which was keen to detect analogies and explain interactions between the natural and the supernatural realms.      

Before we go any further in this little account, in which the emphasis is placed on the innovative aspect of philosophy, it may be useful to recall that ancient Greek philosophy never ceased, throughout its history, to measure itself against mythical thought, sometimes to criticize and reject it, but also, like Plato did, to borrow from it something of its evocative force, and share in its power to grasp the mysterious depth of things. That said, it’s undeniable that a group of perceptive men has forced the Greek people to drastically change its outlook on the divine.

This group of inquisitive minds comprised all Presocratic thinkers, including the very first ones, who lived in Miletus. In the 6th century BC, Miletus was a prosperous coastal city of Asia Minor (Present day Turkey). Between c. 640 and c. 523, three important philosophers/scientists (the distinction between science and philosophy didn’t yet exist) lived there, making this port of Ionia the cradle of Greek philosophy.

Their names were Thales, Anaximander and Anaximenes. The three of them attempted to answer the same question, based on the same method of examination of the physical world. That question was: “What “single enduring material stuff” (2) is nature made of?” The idea was that, starting with an acute observation of the natural world, one could rationally determine what basic element every natural creature was made of.

The question the Milesians asked was revolutionary. It implied that there was not only a chaotic plurality of things and causes in the universe, but rather that what they called the “cosmos” (the Greek word for “order [of the  universe]”) was characterised by its fundamental unity and harmony. Which means, firstly, that all things were forming an orderly and beautiful totality (i.e. a single, though complex, entity) and secondly, that this one entity was explicable by one single systematic physical cause. To better appreciate its scope, we can rephrase the Milesian interrogation like this: “What is the primary physical cause of all what is in nature, understood as a unified and harmonious, though complex, orderly system?” Thus began the history of science. 

The three Milesian philosophers diverged in their proto-scientific responses. Thales concluded that all things were made of water, since water is absolutely vital to all living things. Anaximander had a more abstract and complex approach, when he suggested that the archè (i.e. the first principal, the root cause of everything) had to be construed as an “undefined” (we’ll get back to that somewhere else). Ananximenes, for his part, put forward the idea that “air” was the material cause of all natural realities, since all living things were sustained by a “breath” (a “pneuma”, in Greek). These physical explanations, based on the study of the elements, shouldn’t lead us to the conclusion that Milesians were “materialists” in the modern philosophical sense of the word.

Unlike some Modern scientists, they never held it to be true that the world was made of matter alone, to the exclusion of any other principle. Their views were “materialists” in the sense that their inquiry, (guided by some fundamental methodological options) relied on empirical research, and therefore on the examination of matter. In order to explain a physical effect, they looked for a physical cause. But one must never overlook the fact that their cosmological theories, however “materialistic” they may appear to us in comparison to mythology, “encompass what we today call physics, chemistry, geology, meteorology, astronomy, embryology, and psychology (and other areas of natural inquiry), as well as theology, metaphysics, epistemology, and ethics.” (3)

This remark helps us understand why Thales, for instance, also shared the view that “all things are full of gods”, thus acknowledging that the divine was everywhere at work in the physical world. The same also thought that the “psychè” (the soul) was “mingled” to everything that is. Beyond nature and beneath the surface of matter, non-physical “forces” were at work, he assumed. This is why we cannot describe him or others Presocatics as proto-scientists whose theories have anticipated those of the atheistic positivists of the 19th and 20th centuries. And this is why a fair presentation of the Presocratics must always highlight both the embryonic or unfinished aspect of their views, and the complexity (and sometimes confusion) we find in them.

Consequently, we cannot declare one-sidedly that theological matters didn’t matter anymore because of the new Presocratics approach. A more systematic and methodological use of reason, characteristic of the philosophical endeavour, and it’s demythologizing effect, only opened the way to the development of a new type of knowledge about the divine.  Through their sometimes very surprising and bizarre reflections of the world, the Presocratic enquiries progressively shaped both the way later thinkers would formulate the problem of God and the way rational answers would be given to it. Their pioneering works gave birth and contributed tremendously to the development of a specialist branch of philosophy traditionally labeled as "natural theology".

From this turning point in the history of Western thought, the desire for God - a desire “written in the human heart” says the Catechism of the Catholic Church - takes more and more clearly the form of an ever deeper and purer empirical, logical and rational quest, aimed at acquiring knowledge about this "first principle" we name God. After an exclusive reliance on mythos, the logos becomes the privileged instrument of this search. Up until Aristotle's culminating speculations, collected in his Metaphysics and in his Ethics, the desire for God will have the countenance of reason. And contemplation (“theoria”, in Greek), will be defined as the ultimate form of human activity, thus preparing the way to the coming Christian spiritual life. 

__________   
Quotes (1) (2) and (3) are from Prof. Patricia Curd’s presentation of the Presocratics we find in the online Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy:  

(https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/presocratics/#Bib)

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The Love of Knowledge and the Desire for God in Ancient Greece - Part I

5/13/2020

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Dimitra Papadimitriou / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)
I started studying philosophy in 1995, at a Montreal University. I received a lot from the two years I spent discovering the history of Western thought. One of the greatest gifts I received from a course on Ancient Greek thinkers is the idea that “nature” is a foundational reality, which ought to be treated not as if it had no consistency, but as a yardstick by which we human beings are meant to measure ourselves, instead of measuring all things according to our own will.

So my undergraduate years in philosophy were rewarding. But one thing I grew uncomfortable with is the philosophical bias I gradually noted in the teachings I received. Indeed, the idea that undergirded all what was said about the rise of rationality in Ancient Greece was that philosophy had appeared in these ancient times dominated by mythology as a light whose vocation was to dispel the darkness maintained by groundless religious beliefs.

There is certainly something true in the idea that philosophy, understood as a rational quest for universal truths, appeared as a competing worldview, challenging the mythological understanding of the divine, of the cosmos and of man that was predominant. But seeing the development of rational thought merely as an “antireligious” phenomenon is somewhat misleading in that rational thought never ceased to deal with the “big questions” primarily asked by religion.

Like religion, ancient philosophy aimed at finding the causes of all what is. It aimed at disclosing the ultimate foundations of the world. But it did so by taking a different path, that of the logos (i.e. rational thought), leaving behind the more common path (at the time) of the mythos (i.e. mythical thought). Through the rational use of language, philosophers went on to conquer the truths the Greek religion and the poetical tradition had attempted to capture through a keen exploration and exploitation of mythological belief, imagination and literary invention.

In the process, traditional Greek mythology was challenged to the point of appearing rationally baseless to Greek philosophers, that is for sure. And thus, it is also true that the rise of philosophy is contemporary to a certain decline of religion, a process scholars call demythologization. That being said, this growing demythologization never meant that man was done with his religious quest once and for all. It rather reoriented it in such a way that, in that quest, systematic rationality and critical thinking had to be used as new searching tools.

This cultural phenomenon is in clear display in the works (or rather in what remains of these works, i.e. a myriad of small fragments) of the early Greek philosophers we call the Presocratics. These two or three first generations of philosophers who lived before Socrates (c. 470 – 399 BC) or were contemporaneous with him, are considered to be the “founding fathers” of this new type of inquiry and understanding that ended being called “philosophy”. And their appearance on the stage of History is truly a momentous event. In what way?

Their main contribution is that they shifted man’s attention from divine causes to natural causes, in this immemorial attempt to find an explanation to what is. Prior to them, supernatural causes were sufficient, so to speak, to explain everything nature contains. Whence a systematic recourse to the divine (e.g. to Zeus) to find an explanation for all the different natural phenomena (e.g. thunder). From the Presocratics on, this type of explanation no longer sufficed.

And so the Presocratics endeavoured to find natural and rational causes to cosmic phenomena (which included man, as a natural reality). In doing so, they promoted a change in method (from mythos to logos) but also a change in objects, since the causes they were looking for were not supernatural, but natural. It flowed from that that their main focus was on natural reality, conceived as intelligible in itself. They methodically studied natural realities with their reason alone, so as to find natural causes explaining the cosmological order.

That is the reason why the philosophical tradition started to call them “physicists” (from the Greek “physis”, nature). That being said, Presocratics also (to a lesser extent, one must say) inquired into the mystery of God and the mystery of Man. In doing so, they set the course of the philosophical tradition for the next two millennia. Indeed, all subsequent philosophy will unendingly ponder upon these three main subjects, God, nature and man, trying to grasp the mysterious connection between them.

Up and down the centuries, philosophy students have been initiated to these three main branches of philosophy: metaphysics or natural theology (as a rational approach to the problem of God), cosmology (as a rational approach to nature) and anthropology (as a rational approach to man). This last branch also includes a sub-disciple: the study of the inner man, that is, the study of the soul (“psychè”, in Greek). And this theoretical approach of man’s being was to be completed by a rigorous reflection on man’s action (ethics).

It follows from what we’ve just said that presocratic philosophy contains not only an obvious cosmological doctrine, but also, in germ, a theology and a spiritual anthropology. And this is true right from the beginning of Ancient Greek philosophy. In fact, the first and most ancient group of presocratic philosophers we call the Milesians (because they all lived in a city called Miletus) sketched out theories on the first principle and on man which will later be refined and integrated into more elaborate and comprehensive philosophical systems.

We’ll look at these first theological sketches in my next blog article.

Reviewed and updated at 5:18 pm, on 05-14-2020

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A New Pentecost

5/8/2020

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Lazzaro Bastiani, Pentecost (between 1484 and 1490)
The integrity of the Catholic Church is being severely tested today, and at times tragically damaged. Its moral integrity, its doctrinal integrity, its spiritual integrity: all aspects of the Church's life are under tremendous social, political, ideological and cultural pressure. This pressure obviously comes from the outside, but also from within, from the community of the (not always) faithful. This double assault on faith, moral and Tradition to match them with worldly standards, dangerously fragilizes the ecclesial edifice and compromises (or at least complicates) God's plan of Salvation for our time.  

The result is serious failures, not only in the moral behaviour of Christians, but also in their theological understanding of the faith, and above all in their spiritual life, which is dreadfully lethargic sometimes. Weakened by a series of scandals, the conflict between progressives and conservatives, and the loss of the sense of God (which comes from an absence of contemplative life), the Church struggles to remember where she comes from, what she is and where she is going. By taking too much interest in the distracting noises of the world, she has unlearned to listen to the whispering voice of God.

Too often, she looks like a sheep sent out in the midst of wolves (see Mt 10:16) who hears only the howling of the pack and is tetanized by fear. Unless she gets overtly excited about all sorts of social and political projects that have too little to do with her primary mission, to the point of squandering her meager resources in battles that are not primarily hers. Her alienation sometimes goes so far that she contributes to political projects that are posing a threat to her very existence (e.g. the Marxist utopia, during the 60’s and the 70’s).      

Towards Renewal

Catholics who share this view have been trying for decades to find a solution to this seemingly desperate situation. The first and most important solution proposed so far is the one put forward by all our Popes since the Second Vatican Council. This solution has two complementary components, a contemplative one and an active one. On the one hand, it implies a renewal of our spiritual life through a new Pentecostal experience, and, on the other hand, a renewal of our missionary life through the implementation of a new evangelization project.

There is no doubt that the new Pentecost has happened, and continues to happen, where Christians do not hesitate to invoke the Holy Spirit. The entire history of the Catholic Charismatic Renewal proves this point brilliantly. Through it, Jesus has been casting fire upon the Earth. This renewal has had, of course, some regrettable drifts, but there is nothing surprising about that. Where God manifests Himself with power, the spiritual battle to be fought for His glory is merciless... and we sometimes lose it.

But where we are successful, that is to say, where missionaries remain small and humble before the work of salvation carried out in them and through them; where the joy of being saved leads to renewed zeal for evangelization; where divine charity is poured into distraught hearts in search of fulfillment; where souls are given this grace of encountering Jesus who makes himself mysteriously present, mysteriously alive, mysteriously active in the depths, the Charismatic Renewal fulfills its role adequately.

The Charismatic Renewal's greatest contribution to the life of the Church has been this:  it helped us rediscover the third person of the Trinity, which had been somewhat forgotten by a breathless Christendom. Through a new outpouring of the Spirit, that is, a renewed invocation and welcoming of the Spirit, we are given the most precious gift: that of a living relationship with God. And through this relationship, the whole Christian life is transfigured. The longing for God, for great liturgies, for lectio Divina, the compassion for the poor, everything is rekindled.     

A Few Books Recommendations

Just as the zeal for mission and the willingness to proclaim the Good News are rekindled. A renewed missionary impulse is the second part of the pontifical and ecclesial response to the crisis we are going through. But in this time of preparation before the feast of Pentecost, it is fitting to dwell on the first aspect: renewal in the Spirit. A good way to do this is to revisit the early years of the Catholic Charismatic Renewal, by reading one of the books that have accompanied the development of this movement. Here, then, are some book recommendations.

The Catholic Charismatic Renewal was originally influenced by the one which occurred in the Pentecostal Movement. One book in particular caught the attention of Catholics seeking revitalization: The Cross and the Switchblade (1963), by Pastor David Wilkerson. Once the revival began in the American Catholic Church (at Duquesne University (Pittsburgh) in 1967), testimonies and studies of the phenomenon started to hit the shelves. Among them, Catholic Pentacostals (1969), by K. and D. Ranaghan, is worth mentioning. 

The Church’s hierarchy very quickly showed an interest in this new surge of fervour. So much so that, in 1974, a book by L.-J. Cardinal Suenens entitled Une nouvelle Pentecôte? is released in France (English translation: A New Pentacost? (1975)). Finally, mention must be made of Émilien Tardif’s stunning testimony, Jésus a fait de moi un témoin (Jesus Lives Today!), published in the early 80’s. This book is really like a new Gospel, full of miracle accounts. It is therefore an excellent therapy for those who "suffer" from acute rationalism.      

And what about you? Do you have any books recommendations to help us (re)discover the vivid beginnings of the Catholic Charismatic Renewal? 



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John the Baptist, the Christian Paradox and the Specificity of Biblical literature

5/4/2020

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PictureVittore Carpaccio - Saint John the Baptist (1505)
John the Baptist

John the Baptist, a spirit-filled man, who lived apart from the world, represents, because of his humble and stark way of life in the wilderness, the archetype of the monk or desert father, devoid of material goods but rich in spiritual goods. The whole tradition that will take him as its model, along with Elijah and Elisha, invites us to discover what we usually call the desert spirituality.

This type of spirituality focuses on the search for inner spiritual richness, an inner abundance which remains hidden under humble exteriors ( John the Baptist "wore a garment of camel's hair") to those who seek only the glittering and the noisy, but which is revealed to those who have a heart well-disposed to receive it.  


Based on this observation, I would like, first, to link what we just said about the desert spirituality with the mystery of the Incarnation, where we"ll find the same process at work, the same paradox: a special kind of poverty which becomes a source of (spiritual) wealth. Second, I'll like to compare that paradoxical cultural phenomenon with the brillant but not supernaturally inspired culture of the Ancient Greeks. 

The Christian Paradox

In becoming human in Jesus, God impoverished himself and, at the same time, kept all his divine treasures intact within Himself. To this day, this incomparable divine wealth remains hidden from the eyes of men who know how to see nothing but worldly realities (wealth, pleasure, power, and honor), and others who cling to competing non-Christian worldviews. This is why Jesus himself is often overlooked as a mere prophet, and the Church, the mystical body of Christ, seen as an ordinary human institution. In truth, all Catholic theology is based on this paradoxical reality: namely, that the most "luminous" thing there is, i.e. the divine glory of God, has come to be hidden in a human body, not to remain hidden though, but to be revealed.

From a divine standpoint, the Earth is a kind of desert compared to Heaven, that is to say, a place of sobriety and poverty, where the glory of God dwelling in Jesus Christ is perfectly preserved, but hidden. Through the Incarnation of the Son of Man, the hidden God of Isaiah (cf. Is 45:15) is revealed, but only in part. The simplicity of his human appearance on Earth still hides him from those who have no eyes to discover his divine identity.  And what is true for the very being of Jesus, is true for the words of Jesus as well. Behind the apparent simplicity of the words of John the Baptist and parables of Jesus, lies the deepest and most inexhaustible wisdom.

This paradox prolongs that of the divine Revelation in general, that is to say, that of a divine Wisdom who, in order to make Himself known, has wrapped Himself in human words and reveals Himself to those who are well-prepared and well-disposed to receive Him in all His richness, but who remains hidden from others, ill-prepared to receive Him and ill-disposed to detect and perceive some transcendent and sanctifying reality behind the surface.

Thus, at first glance, the apparent cultural poverty, or rather the simplicity and rusticity of the Jewish culture of someone like John the Baptist or Jesus, has nothing to do with the scholarly/scientific/literate culture of the Ancient Greeks. But paradoxically, when it comes to the meaning of life, all the sophisticated wisdom of the Greeks ultimately contains less richness than the small culture/memory/biblical hope of a desert recluse like John.  

Comparison between Biblical literature and ancient Greek culture

Having said this, the gap between Greek complexity and Jewish simplicity, between Greek sophistication and Jewish rusticity, should not be exaggerated. For the Jews, as great readers of the Scriptures, are far from pertaining to a purely oral culture. Their religious culture is in fact based on the Sacred Scriptures, which preserve and revive the national memory, even if illiteracy characterizes at least part of the people.

The Jewish collection of sacred books we now call the Bible, developed and enriched over ten centuries, took on greater importance after the Exile in Babylon, in 587 BC. In a context of radical dispossession, the sacred corpus replaced, in a symbolic way, the temple, destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar. And after the Exile, the Jews continued to "inhabit" the word more than ever, so that the word would inhabit them.

That said, the sacred books of the Jews retain something of the simplicity of popular wisdom, for example in the Sapiential Books. This literature of wisdom remains close to the practical experience of which they are, in a certain way, the distillation. It does not reach the same level of abstraction than Greek moral philosophy. Obviously, this biblical sapiential literature presents an absence or "lack" of abstraction, structuring and systematization, if not an absence or "lack" of rationality.

But there is on both sides, on the Jewish side as well as on the Greek side, this common “natural desire to know", mentioned by Aristotle in his Metaphysics. In biblical Judaism, the experience of life leads to wisdom in practical ways, but this knowledge rises to the truth while remaining “colored”, so to speak, by the whole existential context it emerges from. Philosophical enquiry also leads to wisdom, but in theoretical ways, based on practical experience, whose sensitive origin it obliterates, in order to raise to the level of abstraction.

There is also something candid in the Gospels. These four books have an extremely stripped-down and naive aspect, with their short miracles accounts. And, according to the categories of the literary theory of genres, they belong to a type of literature which we call “marvelous”.  But mysteriously, these little sacred fables, fashioned centuries ago, have the power to shape us from within over the course of days and years. Such is the Christian experience of biblical revelation, that it brings inner transformation to a whole new level.

reviewed on updated on 05-14-2020

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    Alex La Salle is currently working as a pastoral agent for the Saint John Paul II Pastoral Unit, which is part of the Diocese of Saint-Jean-Longueuil, Quebec.

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