In a way, this describes what, over the centuries, theologians often have been doing—and even scientists, too! But, remember, getting more and more insight and information doesn’t mean we fully understand what ultimately remains a mystery and unknowable.
This is not a critique of faith. Believing and knowing are two different things. Knowledge is more a matter of exploring, learning, testing, and gaining understanding. On the other hand, belief is more a matter of confidence, trusting, and daring.
You may be my friend and I love and trust you, but that doesn’t mean that I had thoroughly investigated everything you thought, said, and did over the whole course of your life to reach this conclusion.
A classic example: the Bible. We often say that it is the revealed word of God. Does that mean, can that mean, that every single word of the Bible was said by, was communicated by God?
The Bible is not one unified book, but a collection of various kinds of writings and reflections by many different people over a span of many centuries—and translated by a variety of different translators.
You’re not meant to take every single sentence or statement in the Bible and trust that it is exactly what God said—but you can trust that what you read is somebody’s interpretation in good faith of what God inspired and how it is to be understood.
Another example: the Sacraments. We often presume that if the right person says the right words in the right language and performs the right actions certain spiritual things necessarily will happen.
But, that’s almost a definition of magic. These may be regulations for celebrating the particular sacrament, but the sacramental action remains mysterious and also requires prayer and acts of faith and trust in God and his revelations and his love.
The Summa Theologica of Thomas Aquinas is an outstanding example of the successes and the limitations of an in-depth investigation into the nature of the mysteries of our faith.
Using the intellectual concepts and tools of Aristotle, Thomas explored the meaning of the core expressions of our Christian beliefs, especially and notably the Eucharist.
He increased our understanding of what is ultimately not completely knowable. With the distinctions of matter and form, substance and accident, and other Aristotelian concepts, Thomas profoundly advanced our understanding of our faith.
But no matter how deeply he explored the mystery and how effectively he articulated his findings, he still did not have all the answers.
His concept of transubstantiation is brilliant, but it’s not a complete answer or a solution, in spite of its well-honed and respected deep insights, to this mystery of the Eucharist.
We know that Jesus broke and distributed bread and poured and shared wine at his last supper with his disciples, usually considered a Seder, a meal where the salvific acts of God were symbolically remembered.
Was he adding to the traditional symbols of salvific acts of God to be ever remembered and celebrated by his followers? Or, even more, was he saying that the partakers were somehow mystically sharing his very life, body and blood?
If you can’t quite fully understand, you’re in good company. Thomas didn’t either, although he did a great job of zeroing in on the unknowable. Ultimately it’s not a matter of knowledge, but of belief.
24 April 2022