Sunday, June 20, 2010

Theology on Tap: "The Siren Song of Science"

Reflections

I gave the following talk in May.  I was horribly nervous, mostly because as I stood in front of the microphone and looked out into the crowd, I realized it was the first time I had publicly professed my faith.  But it was worth it, if only for the huge swell of calm that poured over me after I finished the talk.  This was a chance for me to form my ideas into something coherent, something understandable.

But it was also a chance for me to find my limitations.  My nervousness was not only a sign of being a novice, but also of being unconfident.  Why the lack of confidence?  Because in some parts I could only form a first-order approximation of what I wished to express, unaware of the secondary or tertiary meanings.  So for instance, when I wanted to talk about the inconsistencies in the Bible, I meant to say that there are passages in the Bible which do not easily agree with one another.  The finding of the empty tomb is the canonical example.  But I did not mean to suggest that the Bible is filled with incompatible passages, unable to be reconciled by anyone but the Catholic hierarchy.  I meant to imply only that finding the real meaning of the Bible is very difficult, so difficult, in fact, that many atheists see this as a sign that Christianity cannot be right, because it cannot put forth a coherent set of Biblical axioms.  But this very real difficulty is not troubling to most Catholics because of sacred Tradition.  I wanted to say this argument in as few words as possible, and so I called this difficulty "inconsistencies".  There is probably a better word.  

What this tells me is that I have to be more Bible literate.  I have to have a better appreciation of where my faith comes from.  So I have started to read Fr. Raymond Brown's Introduction to the New Testament again, beginning with the epistles of St. Paul.  Beginning with St. Paul is important, because, in my haste to reject Protestant Christianity, it is easy to have a distaste for St. Paul.

But what I also came to understand was that I have a fundamental hunger for philosophy, not the fake philosophy of the Internet age, but true metaphysical thought.  I want to know philosophy in the sense that it is the love of wisdom, a love of understanding.  I had begun this journey with St. Thomas Aquinas, who achieved the height of Medieval thought, but who drew upon Aristotle.  That leads me to Plato and Socrates.  In other words, I want a knowledge of classical thought.  So I am beginning to read Plato and Aristotle in that hope that, with this basis, I can feel more comfortable with my own understanding.  Again, I want to know where my faith comes from, and in many ways, it comes from the ancients.  The church often holds up Socrates as a man who, although pre-Christian, is in heaven.  I have a lot I can learn from him.