Chapter VII — Faith and Understanding

The Doctrine of the Vatican Council on the Understanding of Faith

I. We must now consider how far we can understand the supernatural truths, or mysteries, we believe on the authority of God and the Church. Rationalists and Agnostics of every age have held that no understanding is possible of anything beyond the sphere of natural reason. Abelard, some theologians of the thirteenth century, and, in modern times, Günther and Frohschammer, held the opposite extreme — that nothing lies beyond the grasp of human reason, so that supernatural truths can be demonstrated by reason, and Faith replaced outright by knowledge. Other theologians allow Faith and knowledge to coexist, but suppose that reason adds some new certitude of its own to Faith.

II. Against both errors, the Vatican Council teaches that some understanding of the mysteries is genuinely possible, while laying down its conditions and rules: “when reason enlightened by faith maketh diligent, pious, and sober inquiry, she attaineth, by God’s gift, most fruitful knowledge of mysteries, both from the analogy of things naturally known and from the relation of mysteries with one another and with the end of man.” The Council goes on to insist that this understanding remains less clear and less perfect than our understanding of natural things: “still she [reason] is never rendered fit to perceive them in the same way as the truths which are her own proper object. For the divine mysteries, by their very nature, so far surpass the created intellect that, even when conveyed by revelation and received by faith, they remain covered by the veil of the faith and, as it were, hidden by a cloud, as long as in this mortal life we are absent from the Lord, for we walk by faith and not by sight” (sess. iii, c. 4).

III. Faith, then, “seeking after understanding” (fides quaerens intellectum), first adapts the mind’s natural notions to divine things by determining the analogies between the two orders — yielding an understanding of each mystery that varies in perfection with the perfection of the analogies used. Further, by comparing the mysteries with one another, and grouping them according to the order of causality, the mind, enlightened by Faith, comes to contemplate a magnificent cycle, beginning and ending in God, constituted after the manner of a living organism — a noble cosmos of supernature unified by the single terminus toward which every part of it is directed: the glory of God in the Beatific Vision, which is also man’s own last end.

IV. This Understanding of Faith cannot yield any independent certitude of its own, nor add anything to the certitude of Faith itself; its only effect is to facilitate and strengthen the act of Faith, by removing apparent difficulties and inclining the mind to accept truths so beautifully in harmony with one another and with the nature of both God and man. The Understanding of Faith accordingly has a moral character more than a purely logical one, corresponding to the pious dispositions of will that already incline us toward Faith — its moral persuasiveness is felt most in connection with the first principles of the supernatural order, its logical persuasiveness more in connection with truths inferred from them.

Theological Knowledge

I. The immediate object of the Understanding of Faith is to present the believer’s mind with a true, distinct, and comparatively perfect notion of what he must believe; its further object is to develop from Faith a wider, deeper knowledge, rooted in Faith yet not formally identical with it, possessing a certitude of its own akin to, though not exactly identical with, the certitude of Faith. Revealed truths, like natural ones, can serve as principles from which other truths are logically inferred; used this way, they are called Theological Reasons, as distinct from merely human or natural reasons. In natural science, the certitude with which we hold a conclusion is simply an extension of our certitude regarding the premises, and is of the same kind; but in the domain of Faith, our certitude regarding a conclusion results from two distinct factors together — Faith and reason — and is therefore essentially different from, and inferior to, our certitude regarding either premise alone. This distinctive kind of certitude is called Theological Certitude, and Theological Knowledge accordingly differs, on the one hand, from philosophical or natural science, and, on the other, from the knowledge of the revealed principles from which it starts. Like natural science, it possesses full scientific value only when its demonstrations rest on principles that are the real, objective causes of their conclusions — showing not merely that something is the case but why it is so. Since Faith as such requires us to know only what its subject-matter is, this marks a further difference between simple Faith and Theological Knowledge properly speaking.

II. Whether the certitude of theological conclusions is itself supernatural or merely natural remains an open question. If a conclusion can be no stronger than the weaker of its premises, theological conclusions would seem to be only humanly or naturally certain; yet such conclusions are organically connected with the Understanding of Faith, springing from it as their root and forming its natural expansion, and are supported, too, by the same pious, loving disposition to believe. The true theologian regards the rational, natural premise less as a partial, independent motive than as a means toward fuller comprehension of the revealed premise itself. God, who preserves His Church from error in proposing theological conclusions for our belief, will likewise extend His grace to the theologian’s own assent to similar conclusions reached by legitimate inference. In any case, all this shows that assent to theological conclusions carries a higher character than the assent heretics and infidels give on purely human motives — such assent can no more amount to true theological science than it can to genuine supernatural Faith — and that Theological Knowledge, in both its principles and its conclusions, enjoys a more sacred and inviolable certitude than any purely human science, before which every merely human certitude, unless intrinsically and extrinsically perfect, must ultimately yield.

§ 40. Scientific Character of Theology

I. A science, properly speaking, should be not merely a collection of facts or truths but a complete system, organically linked by fixed laws and reducible to objective unity. Theology fulfils these conditions in an eminent degree: its subjective principle of cognition is single, and its subject-matter is single as well — God, the supreme substantial unity — with created things treated only insofar as they tend toward God and form part of the divine order of things. It is sometimes said that science should deal only with necessary, eternal, universal truths, not with the contingent, temporal, and particular — rightly understood, this means only that science is concerned not with the transient and changeable as such, but with the ideas and laws governing and connecting such phenomena. In this sense, too, Theology is eminently a science: its primary object, God, is necessary and eternal, ruling over all things, and even the contingent facts it treats are considered as eternally present in the all-commanding will of God — many of them, the birth of Christ among them, carrying a lasting, indeed eternal, importance, and so possessing, in effect, a universal character of their own.

II. Theology is a distinct and separate science by reason of both its peculiar principle of cognition and its peculiar subject-matter — the first making it generically distinct from every other science, the second embracing, as it does, the whole supernatural order. This does not prevent Theology from including within its domain many truths that also belong to other sciences: deriving its knowledge from God’s own omniscience, it can throw light on everything knowable. But the supernatural remains its primary, direct, and proper subject-matter; the natural belongs to Theology only in certain respects, for a special purpose — insofar as it relates to the supernatural order. Theology, accordingly, does not treat the subject-matter of other sciences with the same exhaustiveness those sciences bring to their own proper domains (cf. St. Thomas, Contra Gentiles, II, c. 4; Cardinal Newman, Idea of a University, p. 430).

§ 41. The Rank of Theology Among the Sciences

I. By reason of the excellence both of its subject-matter and of its principle of knowledge, Theology is, subjectively and objectively alike, the highest and noblest of all sciences. Objectively, a science’s dignity and excellence depend on the dignity, universality, and unity of its subject-matter — three qualities we have just shown belonging to Theology’s subject-matter in an eminent degree. Subjectively, a science’s excellence is measured by the certainty it affords — and Theology, in both its principles and its conclusions, especially once guaranteed by the Church, possesses the highest certitude of all. Since it demonstrates its whole content on the ground of Eternal Reasons (rationes aeternae) — God and His own eternal ideas — it is, further, the most profound and thorough of all the sciences. It is, admittedly, inferior to some sciences in mere clearness and distinctness, since its evidence is not direct and its notions remain analogical — but this apparent defect, far from degrading Theology, is amply compensated by its other excellences, and is itself a further proof of Theology’s dignity, being simply a consequence of the exalted character of supernatural knowledge as such. This supreme excellence may fittingly be expressed by calling Theology the Transcendental Science — for, borne up by Faith and the pious boldness Faith gives, it genuinely attains what a godless, reckless modern science strives after in vain.

II. The Fathers and theologians, following Scripture’s own example, express Theology’s peculiar dignity by calling it Wisdom pure and simple, or Divine Wisdom (Sapientia) — a knowledge far above ordinary knowledge, dealing with the highest principles and the most exalted things, yet with the greatest certitude; perfecting the mind and raising it to God, the highest Good and ultimate End of all; enabling us, practically, to direct every action and tendency toward its proper object, Eternal Beatitude. Human reason, of course, strives to attain a knowledge answering these same conditions — hence Aristotle’s own name for Metaphysics, “Wisdom,” it being for him the noblest of sciences. But the wisdom of this world is properly called Philosophy — a love of, and search for, wisdom — while Theology alone is true Wisdom itself; hence Scripture’s own frequent use of the name “Wisdom” for the knowledge contained in, or developed from, Faith (see especially 1 Cor. 1–2).

§ 42. The Three Great Branches of Theology — Fundamental, Positive, and Speculative

I. Theology may be called the science of Revelation. It tells us: (1) that there is a Revelation; (2) how we are to know what has been revealed; (3) what, in fact, has been revealed; and (4) the relations among these revealed things, and what may legitimately be inferred from them. Points 1 and 2 form the groundwork for 3 and 4; point 3 is positive in character, dealing with fact; point 4 is more subtle and metaphysical than the rest. Hence the three great branches of Theology: Fundamental, Positive, and Speculative.

II. The existence and attributes of God are proved within that branch of Philosophy called Natural Theology — matters accessible to unaided reason, requiring no supernatural Revelation to manifest them (cf. Rom. 1:20; 2:14–15; Acts 14:14–16; Wis. 13:1–9). But God has freely bestowed on us a higher way of knowing Him and His dealings with man: He has spoken directly, by His own voice and the voice of His Son, and indirectly through Prophets, Apostles, and inspired writers (Heb. 1:1–2). Those who originally heard God, or His envoys, were convinced of the divine origin of what they heard by the working of miracles and the fulfilment of prophecies; those living in later ages had first to be convinced of the truthfulness of the record of these words and deeds, handed down by word of mouth or in writing, before they could infer that they had truly come from God. It is Fundamental Theology’s business to prove the trustworthiness of these records, to examine the evidence for the various miracles and prophecies, and so to establish that God has indeed spoken “at sundry times and in divers manners to the fathers by the prophets,” and afterward by His own Son. But the evidence for the fact of Revelation is not merely a matter of history — we have before our eyes a standing, present proof that God has spoken and worked supernaturally: the Catholic Church herself, by her wonderful propagation, her eminent sanctity, and her inexhaustible fertility in every good work, stands as an unanswerable argument for her own divine origin and mission. The dogmatic constitution issued in the Vatican Council’s third session summarizes the scope and function of Fundamental Theology under four headings: God the Creator of all things; Revelation; Faith; and Faith and Reason.

Once we know that God has spoken, we naturally ask how we are to discover what He has actually revealed — the very question that turned on the sixteenth-century controversy between Catholics and Protestants, and was settled by the Council of Trent (sess. iv). The branch of Theology treating this question may be called fundamental, since it concerns the very basis of our belief, though it is more usually termed Polemical or Controversial Theology. The other branch of Fundamental Theology is sometimes called Apologetic Theology, its function being to defend Revelation against Rationalists, Deists, Atheists, and their kind.

III. Once it is established that God has made a Revelation, and the means of knowing what He has revealed have been identified, the next step is to ask what these revealed things actually are. Positive Theology takes for granted everything Fundamental Theology, both Apologetic and Controversial, has already established; it examines the various sources of Revelation, written and unwritten, and tells us that there are Three Persons in God, that God raised man to the supernatural order, that man fell, that God the Son took flesh and died for us, and so on through the other great mysteries. Its proper function is to establish the truths of Revelation, not to penetrate their inner, deeper meaning or mutual relations — though writers who treat of it do not, in practice, always confine themselves to this narrower task.

IV. The noblest branch of Theology is that concerned not with proving the contents of Revelation but with comparing revealed truths and entering into their very essence, so far as reason, guided by Faith, allows. Speculative Theology begins where Positive Theology ends: Positive Theology proves a dogma; Speculative Theology examines it closely, views it in connection with other dogmas, and strives thereby toward a deeper insight into both. Protestant attacks on the Rule of Faith, and Rationalist attacks on the very existence of Revelation, have naturally drawn attention away from this profound, sublime study for a time — but signs are not wanting today that it is once more being cultivated. The deep, many-sided insight it gives into divine things is itself a desirable enrichment of the mind, letting us share more fully in the blessings and fruits of Faith; it aids Faith too, not by increasing its certainty, but by presenting revealed truths to better advantage, in the light they throw on one another and in the harmony of their mutual relations. Even against heretics it carries real value, since their chief strength lies in confused ideas, falsified notions, and the abuse of logic — precisely the points on which Speculative Theology renders the greatest service to truth. The great controversialists of the last three centuries have, without exception, also been profound speculative theologians.

V. An example may help clarify these distinctions — the dogma of the Blessed Trinity: (1) Natural Theology, itself a branch of Philosophy, proves that God exists; (2) Apologetic Theology proves that He has revealed to us truths above our reason; (3) Controversial Theology proves that the testimony and authority of the Catholic Church is the means of discovering what God has revealed; (4) Positive Theology proves that it has been revealed that there are Three Persons in God; (5) Speculative Theology teaches how a single Divine Essence is possessed by Three distinct Persons — one possessing It as uncommunicated, a second possessing It as communicated by knowledge, a third possessing It as communicated by love. This present Manual deals chiefly with Positive Theology, rising occasionally into Speculative Theology, notably in the later treatment of the mystery of the Trinity.

§ 43. Relation Between Reason and Faith

I. Human reason, like Faith, has its own proper subject-matter and province; it lays the foundation of Faith, and helps develop revealed doctrine, yet there remains a certain territory common to both. This whole subject has been clearly expounded by the Vatican Council (sess. iii, c. 4), whose canons we need only quote and explain:

1. “if any one shall say that in Divine Revelation no mysteries properly so-called are contained, but that all the dogmas of the Faith can be understood and proved from natural principles by reason duly cultivated, let him be anathema.”
2. “if any one shall say that human sciences are to be treated with such freedom that their assertions, although at variance with revealed doctrine, can be received as true, and cannot be proscribed by the Church, let him be anathema.”
3. “if any one shall say that it can come to pass that at some time, according to the progress of science, a meaning should be attributed to the dogmas proposed by the Church other than that which the Church hath understood and doth understand, let him be anathema.”

These three canons condemn the principal Rationalist claims: (1) the right to treat revealed truths exactly as natural ones, on purely natural principles and with purely natural certitude; (2) the right of human reason to hold its own scientific conclusions notwithstanding their opposition to revealed doctrine, independently of the Church’s authority; and (3) the right to substitute new meanings for old ones in the Church’s own definitions of Faith. These claims not only entirely emancipate Reason from the control of Faith, but invade Faith’s proper domain outright and destroy its supernatural character.

II. The Council states the fundamental principles governing the relation between Faith and Reason as follows: (1) Reason is a genuine principle or source of knowledge, possessing its own domain; Faith, too, is a principle of knowledge, higher in dignity than reason, likewise possessing its own proper domain. (2) Since both Faith and Reason come from God, they cannot truly oppose one another or arrive at genuinely contradictory conclusions. (3) From these two principles the Council infers that any conclusion opposed to enlightened, supernatural Faith is altogether false, and only apparently reasonable — a Catholic accordingly has both the right and the duty to reject such a conclusion once informed, by the Church’s own infallible teaching, that his Faith on the point in question is indeed enlightened. Faith and Reason, further, combine for mutual aid and support, each retaining its own character and comparative independence: Reason assists Faith by demonstrating its credibility, contributing to the understanding of its subject-matter, and developing it into theological science; Faith, in turn, serves Reason by rescuing it from many errors, even within purely human science, and guiding it toward a deeper, more comprehensive knowledge of natural truth. This influence of Faith upon Reason implies a certain weakness and dependence on Reason’s part, but interferes with neither its legitimate conclusions nor its legitimate freedom — it is only a false liberty, a mere licence, that submission to Faith cannot tolerate.

III. The relation between Reason and Faith may be summed up in the well-known formula: “Reason is the handmaid of Faith” — meaning that Faith, and its theological development, constitute the highest science, the supreme object and highest end toward which human activity can be directed. St. Thomas expresses the same doctrine: “seeing that the end of the whole of philosophy is lower than, and ordained to, the end of theology, the latter should rule all the other sciences, and take into her service what they teach” (Prol. in I Sent., q. 1, a. 1). St. Bonaventure puts it memorably: “theology takes from nature the materials to make a mirror in which Divine things are reflected, and she constructs, as it were, a ladder, the lowest rung of which is on earth, and the highest in Heaven” (Prol., Breviloquium).

IV. It follows that philosophy must be, in a certain sense, Christian and Catholic in spirit, principle, and conclusion. Its spirit is Catholic when the philosopher is guided by the doctrines of Faith, aims at fuller knowledge of the natural truths already contained in Revelation, and prepares the way for the scientific development of supernatural truth; its principles and conclusions are Catholic when they agree with Faith, or at least do not clash with it, and can be put to use in Speculative Theology. In other words, philosophy is Christian and Catholic precisely when it is really true and sound philosophy. Non-Christian philosophy can, of course, be true and sound to a certain degree; nevertheless the nature of philosophy itself, and its own history, show that its proper development depends on a Christian spirit. In pre-Christian times, Socratic philosophy — meaning the due combination of its Platonic and Aristotelian forms, each correcting and supplementing the other — attained a high degree of perfection, becoming the very foundation on which Christian philosophy was later built; the Fathers recognized in this fact the hand of God preparing the way for the science of the Gospel. Christian philosophy blends the two traditions together, though at times giving more prominence to one than the other, and the Church’s own continued use of this combined system is itself a guarantee of the truth of its main principles and conclusions — any attempt to substitute an entirely new or different system must accordingly be viewed with distrust, all the more since every modern attempt of the kind has, so far, failed conspicuously.

§ 44. Theology as a Sacred Science

I. A supernatural illumination of the mind is needed, first of all, to help it overcome the difficulties naturally inherent in knowing supernatural things — difficulties arising from the nature of the human mind itself, which draws its notions from the sensible world and remains subject to the influence of passion and prejudice. St. Paul alludes to both kinds of difficulty: “the sensual man perceiveth not these things that are of the Spirit of God: for it is foolishness to him, and he cannot understand: because it is spiritually examined. But the spiritual man judgeth all things” (1 Cor. 2:14–15). The divine assistance needed to remove these difficulties is often mentioned in Scripture — “his unction teacheth you of all things” (1 John 2:27; cf. Eph. 1:17).

The Holy Ghost’s own action, further, is required, at least morally, to produce the purity of disposition and humility of heart indispensable for all moral and religious knowledge, above all knowledge of the supernatural. This assistance is often so effective that it contributes more to the perfection of spiritual science than the best-developed, but merely natural, ability unassisted — hence children and uneducated people sometimes perceive the mysteries of Faith more clearly than those who call themselves philosophers: “I give thee thanks, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them to little ones” (Matt. 11:25; cf. Wis. 1:4).

II. The Holy Ghost’s influence on our spiritual knowledge reaches its perfection when He diffuses through our soul the supernatural life of Divine Love. This life draws us into the most intimate connection with the mysteries of Faith, keeps them continually before our mind, and, in effect, identifies us with them. Divine charity, fruitful in good works, is equally fruitful in an increased knowledge of spiritual things — transforming elementary understanding into a perfect Wisdom that is itself a foretaste and beginning of the Beatific Vision. Charity gives keenness to the spiritual eye and fixes it on the Divine Love; Charity gives us a sense of the Divine Beauty and Sweetness; Charity likens us to God Himself, inasmuch as He is the principle of the greatest mysteries — the more we love, the better we understand the love of others. The spiritual contentment Charity produces in the soul helps us grasp the perfect harmony between revealed truth and the noblest aspirations of our own nature; the fire of Divine Charity is naturally accompanied by a divine light, by which God manifests Himself in a marvellous manner (cf. 1 Cor. 2:13–16; 2 Cor. 3:16–18; Eph. 3:14ff.).

§ 45. Progress of Theological Science

I. The possibility, indeed the necessity, of progress in Theology results, in general, from the inexhaustible riches of revealed truth, the perfectibility of the human mind, the wise dispensation of Providence in gradually unfolding Revelation, and the ongoing necessity of combating heresy and infidelity.

II. Progress in Theology necessarily differs from progress in the human sciences. Theology can never desert the standpoint of Faith to substitute purely rational principles for it; it cannot abandon or alter anything once formally defined; nor, since Revelation itself has been closed, can it discover any genuinely new province, except in certain auxiliary branches of research. Positive progress is possible only in three directions: (1) what is uncertain, indefinite, or obscure may be made certain, definite, and clear; (2) erroneous opinions held by some may be corrected; and (3) demonstration and defence may be remodelled or improved. Broadly speaking, progress is made chiefly in the correction of partially erroneous opinions.

III. Progress in Theology is not as constant and steady as progress in dogma itself, since theology depends, far more than dogma, on the abilities of individual members of the Church — epochs of profound theological learning have been followed by epochs of comparative sterility. Mathematics, the natural sciences, and history progress more steadily than Theology, since they deal with fixed formulas and facts; yet Theology advances more steadily than Philosophy, since its fundamental principles are themselves fixed, and since the Holy Ghost’s assistance, working through the Church, preserves it from straying far from the truth.

IV. In recent times, the enemies of Theology — and even some of her less prudent friends — have tried to give sacred science a “liberal” foundation. Liberalism in Theology consists in questioning its own principles, either categorically, doubting them until natural science has proved them true (as Hermes did), or hypothetically, accepting them but subject to future scientific ratification (Günther). In both cases the very principle of Faith is denied, and progress in Theology rendered as impossible as progress in a philosophy that denies its own first principles. The only permissible doubt is Methodic Doubt: a Catholic theologian may treat truths he firmly believes as though still uncertain, purely for the purpose of discovering, for his own benefit or an unbeliever’s, the grounds on which they actually rest. A third, less serious form of liberalism is simple rejection of the scholastic theologians’ own method and principles (cf. Syllabus, prop. 13) — to do this would insult reason itself, no less than the Church’s own vital power and Divine Providence, and, besides, no real progress is possible except on the basis of results already achieved. Liberalism, on the whole, opposes authority as such, viewing it as an obstacle to progress, and demands unlimited freedom in method, principle, and conclusion alike — yet a comparison of Theology’s state in Germany and in Spain shows that progress springs from authority, not licence: in sixteenth-century Spain, when the Congregation of the Index governed theological science, Theology reached an unparalleled height of splendour; in eighteenth-century Germany, when “freedom of thought” flourished instead, Theology fell into a pitiable state of decay.

The true conditions for fruitful progress in Theology are: (1) firm adhesion to the Faith; (2) acceptance of the progress already made; (3) willing submission to the Church’s authority; (4) prudence in the use of auxiliary sciences hostile to the Church; and (5) exactness and thoroughness of method.