Loving A Hidden God
DISCOVERY THROUGH FAITH
There are two kinds of things that are known directly: those things that the mind perceives through the senses and those things that the mind perceives in its "self" (for example, the fact that I am alive). Now I would (in most cases) never doubt the truths revealed through the senses. Only through them do we learn of the heavens and the earth. Similarly, I would (in most cases) not doubt what I have learned from the testimony of others. Without such testimony we would not know that there is an ocean. We would not know that there are famous lands and cities celebrated in foreign places. We would not know of the men and their works that we have learned about from reading history. We would not know the news of the world that is daily brought to us and is confirmed by consistent and convincing evidence. Finally, without believing others we would not know even the place where we were born nor the parents who generated us. All such things we have believed because of the testimony of others. But it is most absurd to deny that we know such things. Indeed, the testimony of others has added very much to the extent of our knowledge.
The Trinity, 15.12.21
Every act of faith involves a "leap into darkness". This is so because we are speaking about knowing something which we have never directly experienced. We must take the word of another that this has happened or is happening or will happen. The act of faith thus does not rest on evidence of the event so much as evidence of the reliability of the witness who tells us about the event. We do not have direct experience of the truth proclaimed; our direct experience is only of the "proclaimer", a person who (like ourselves) is wrapped in mystery. It is no wonder then that the theologian Kierkegaard would speak of the "leap of faith" and why the bishop Augustine would define faith as ... thinking with assent. (Predestination of the Saints, 2.5)
Certainly faith is a "thinking". It is not an ecstatic movement of the emotions, a good feeling for no good reason. Faith is an exercise of the mind, a judgment that "this indeed is so". Faith must in some sense "be reasonable" for it to exist at all. This priority of reason over faith is the reason for Augustine's famous principle:
Intelligam ut credo
(I understand in order to believe)Letter 102, 38; Psalm 118/18, 3
Faith depends on reason in various ways. First of all, it would be impossible for us to believe anything if we were not rational animals, if we did not have a mind with the power to reason and understand. Secondly, in order to believe the testimony of the one who tells us something we must trust them. For this trust to be warranted, there must be some reason for believing that they know what they are talking about and that they are not deceiving us. We are born with such a trusting attitude. When I was a little fellow, I cannot remember ever doubting what my mother and father revealed to me about the world. I even believed their testimony about that wonderful man, Santa Claus, though (to tell the truth) I was somewhat mystified by his appearance in every store we visited during Christmas-time.
Most of us lose this trusting attitude as we grow older. We begin to ask for credentials and save receipts. Even in our disbelief there should be good reasons for not believing and before we come to the point of belief or unbelief reason must first understand what we are called upon to believe. We must understand the content of an article of faith before we can believe it. To believe that "God is incarnate in the person of Jesus Christ" we must first understand the meaning of the statement. As Augustine observed:
No one can believe unless they first think that there is something to be believed.
On the Predestination of the Saints, 2.5
Just as reason is at the foundation of faith, so faith has as its goal an "understanding" of the truth believed. Coming to believe a truth through the intermediary of a trusted witness, the mind is driven to possess it, not simply by faith, but by reason. When it makes an act of faith, the mind does not yet see the thing it believes in but at least it knows that it is "there" and also knows that it does not "see" it. Then, because of our natural inquisitiveness, when we "know" something to be true through faith but do not yet "understand" it we are driven to try to understand it. (Letter 120, 2.8) This is the meaning of Augustine's equally famous phrase:
Credo ut intelligam
(I believe so that I might understand)On Freedom of the Will 2.2.6; Letter 120, 1.3
This somewhat odd principle is verified even in our ordinary experience. Day after day belief opens the door to great vistas of knowledge that we only later come to understand. Take the example of a growing child. A baby left to its own direct experience and its purely personal interpretation of it would not progress very far in its knowledge of reality. None of us would have survived our early years without the trust we had in the friendly giants who were constantly telling us what was and was not good for us.
When it comes to more sublime matters, matters that pertain to our eternal happiness, the priority of faith is even more evident. As a "cracked Christian" I cannot know much about God except by believing. But once I come to believe the mysteries of faith as proclaimed by Christ and the Christian community, I can then go on to try to understand what those mysteries mean, especially as they give insight into how I should live day by day. (Cf. Letter 120; Letter 147)
Such insight does not come easily. Though the content of faith resides in the mind, its creation depends on an act of the will. Rather than "seeing the truth" as we do when we directly experience it, we must "assent to the truth", that is, we must choose to believe. For example, when someone says "I love you" we can never know for sure that they do. To believe that we are loved is indeed a belief rather than a directly perceived truth. Our supposed lover may indeed show us signs of affection, may indeed "act as though" they love us, but we can never see what is going on inside them. Love is an act of the spirit and their spirit is forever hidden from us. For one who is by nature suspicious, it is very easy to choose to disbelieve any proclamations of affection from others, especially when you do not consider yourself worthy of love. This is not the case with matters of direct experience. We may not think ourselves worthy of seeing the sun, but we are blinded none the less on a bright, sunny day.
Faith begins with a series of choices: the choice to pay attention to what is being said, the choice to try to understand what is being said, the choice to trust that the "sayer" has the knowledge of the event and is not a deceiver. It is difficult sometimes to make that choice. One can understand why Peter and John, when told by first-hand witnesses that Jesus' tomb was empty on Easter morning, ran off to see for themselves. One can understand why Thomas would not believe in the risen Christ until he had direct experience of him. Strangely enough, it is sometimes harder to believe good things than bad things. For Thomas and the other disciples the resurrection of their Lord seemed just too good to be true.
This challenge to believe is no easier for rest of us. Indeed, it is even more difficult for us than it was for the apostles. We cannot "rush off" someplace to see the truth for ourselves: the truth that Jesus existed, the truth that he died, the truth that he rose from the dead, the truth that he ascended into heaven. It is equally difficult to believe the truths he left behind: the truth that a personal God exists, that God exists in this "messed up" world, that he exists in the "messed up" us, that despite our imperfection he is calling us to eternal happiness, that the path to that happiness is to lead a good life supported by his grace. It is indeed a leap of faith to believe all of these great good things. As one theologian once said of the resurrection: "The real miracle was not that it occurred but that anyone believed that it occurred."
There are good reasons for leaving ourselves open to the possibility of faith. No one is "forced" to believe but without faith the extent of what we "know" becomes narrow indeed. There is very little we know "for sure" if by "for sure" is meant something that is impossible to doubt. Considering the alternatives of living a faith-enlarged life or a life limited to what we can be absolutely sure of, it seems at least impractical, if not unreasonable, to choose the latter course. We simply must believe in something to get through life. To those who cry "I will not accept anything on faith", "faith is unreasonable", Augustine responds:
Look at your daily life. What truths do you in fact experience directly? If these alone will count as true knowledge, then indeed there will be very few things that we can be said to know.
The Trinity, 15.12.21
I know by direct experience of myself that I exist but that I am a "mixed breed" of Irish and English roots. I can only take on faith. Even in ordinary matters, it does not make sense to say "I will not accept as true anything that I cannot see for myself." Such an attitude of disbelief makes life in society impossible. As Augustine observed:
There is no part of society that can remain firm once we have decided to believe in nothing beyond that which we can perceive through our senses.
On the Utility of Believing, 12.26.
Faith rests on the same trusting attitude as love, friendship, and respect for others, those elements that are (or should be) the foundation of any human society.
If faith is thus necessary to know ordinary truths about our ordinary life, it is not surprising that it should be needed to know the extraordinary truths preached by Christianity. To understand our place in the universe and get a clear idea of what God is like and what he demands of us, we need the ability to discover the truth through the testimony of a reliable witness. For Augustine that witness was Jesus Christ himself and knowledge of what Christ said and did depended on a further act of faith in the testimony of the Christian community, a community of cracked human beings. Considering what we are called upon to believe as Christians and the imperfection of those who preach the message, it is no wonder that faith is a fragile gift. In some mysterious way it enables us to believe the unthinkable proclaimed by a cracked human community. As another theologian observed: "The real miracle of Christianity is that it has lasted so long with so many flawed members."
Even under the best of circumstances faith in anyone or anything is easily destroyed and even more easily ignored. When it comes to matters that are truly extraordinary (for example, that God should become a human being, that he should die for our sins, that he calls us to an eternal life in union with him) it is even more fragile especially since such belief demands a radical change in our everyday life, living no longer dominated by physical needs, living an unselfish life out of love for God and other humans.
Because his own experience in searching for faith, Augustine was convinced that personal purification is necessary for faith to be possible. This is why, in his outline of the steps towards seeing the hidden God, Augustine puts final purification from earthy concerns as the necessary final step before wisdom, the "seeing of God". (City of God, 8.3; The Trinity, 1.2.4)
As the story of Eden demonstrates, even before human sin the challenge to be faithful to God and the will of God was not an easy task. After sin, it is even more difficult. Now there are obstacles in knowing the truth and choosing the good. Our minds are covered by cataracts of the spirit which make even the most brilliant truths seem cloudy and gray. Our unaided wills are now too weak to focus attention on eternal truths for any great length of time. Considering our present "cracked" condition it is no wonder that we need healing before we can believe. As Augustine says:
Will you be able to lift up your heart to God? Must it not first be healed in order that you may see? Do you not show your pride when you say: "First let me see and then I will be healed"?
Commentary on Psalm 39, 21
We cannot give ourselves faith, but we can prepare to receive it by leading a decent life, by trying to purify ourselves of the selfishness and laziness that can stand in the way. As Augustine says, we must be "healed" first and then through the grace of God we may come to believe. How do we initiate the healing process? By wanting to live and trying to live a good life in accordance with the guidance given by the life and teachings of Jesus Christ as recorded in the pages of the Sacred Scripture and the traditions of the Christian Community that he formed. The memory of Jesus taught first to him as a child by his mother Monica kept Augustine searching until he found a place where that Christ was revered. Once he found that place in the Christian community, his continuing study of the works and words of Jesus gave him the knowledge he sought: knowledge of himself, his world, and his God.
When Augustine finally came to know Jesus Christ, he was not disturbed by his inability to "see" the face of God through what has come to be known as the "Beatific Vision". His faith brought with it the conviction that God was both outside and inside his "self". He did not yet understand that presence, but he believed in it. Like the faithful on Calvary, he was able to look at the crucified man Jesus and see God. Thereafter it was such faith that allowed him to survive the times ahead when all he could see was the darkness of God and all he could hear was the silence of God. Through his prayerful faith in Christ he was able to truly believe the consoling thoughts he once wrote to his friend Italica when she was mourning the death of her beloved husband:
You must not think of yourself as left alone. Deep inside your very "self" you have Jesus Christ present in your heart through faith.
Letter 92, 1.
For Augustine it was his coming to know the person of Jesus Christ that finally allowed him to move beyond his times of darkness and listening.