Certitude or Understanding

In a recent seminar at NTS titled "Is the Reformation Over? A dialogue among friends," Father David Burrell, C.S.C., proposed a dichotomy that stuck with me. He suggested that all people might be divided into those who "need certitude" and those who "seek understanding." This is a summary that he has taken from the work of Bernard Lonergan.

At first, it seemed like an overly simplified platitude to describe the human condition. However, the more that I thought about it, the more this simple division made sense. Can the world truly be divided into two camps - those who need certitude (a psychological need) and those who seek understanding (an intentional quest)? And if this division is true, which camp do I belong to?

As I contemplated these questions more and more, it became evident that my life has been a process of wavering back and forth between these two spheres. There have been times when my need for certainty dominated everything (typically in times of change or transition). But there have been other times when I was on a journey toward deeper understanding. This dichotomy is quite telling of our spiritual condition. Further, I would suggest that the overarching forces in our culture impress upon us a deeper need for certainty than encouraging us in the open-ended quest for meaning. A pressure that, I believe, stunts our growth in Christ and impedes our ability to be obedient to Him.

Our need for certitude is a natural human response to fear. "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." (John 14:27) Again and again, Jesus comforts us with these words "Do not be afraid." Yet, I think our desire for certainty is deeper than simply our response to fear - I think it actually comes out of our desire to control. We want to master and control all of life, rather than walking into the unknown trusting in the Lord of life. Especially in the West (modern post-enlightenment world) we have an overarching need for certainty and control, illustrated by our ubiquitous use of mechanistic rather than organic metaphors. This vision leaves us without the understanding or language to engage the mysteries of life and more importantly the mystery of God. Ultimately, this need for certitude is rooted in the primordial human sin - our attempt to replace God.

Yet, it seems to me that when we truly come into the presence of the Holy One all of our false certainties unravel and our true condition is illumined. Think of Isaiah's encounter with the Lord in the temple. Here is Peterson's translation of that encounter:

"In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Master sitting on a throne—high, exalted!—and the train of his robes filled the Temple. Angel-seraphs hovered above him, each with six wings. With two wings they covered their faces, with two their feet, and with two they flew. And they called back and forth one to the other,

Holy, Holy, Holy is God-of-the-Angel-Armies.
His bright glory fills the whole earth.

The foundations trembled at the sound of the angel voices, and then the whole house filled with smoke. I said,

"Doom! It's Doomsday!
I'm as good as dead!
Every word I've ever spoken is tainted—
blasphemous even!
And the people I live with talk the same way,
using words that corrupt and desecrate.
And here I've looked God in the face!
The King! God-of-the-Angel-Armies!"

Then one of the angel-seraphs flew to me. He held a live coal that he had taken with tongs from the altar. He touched my mouth with the coal and said,

"Look. This coal has touched your lips.
Gone your guilt,
your sins wiped out."

And then I heard the voice of the Master:
"Whom shall I send?
Who will go for us?"

I spoke up,
"I'll go. Send me!"

Everything that Isaiah might have been certain of as a member of the "Chosen People" was revealed to be empty and void in the presence of the Wholly Other. His very life and existence was even called into question. But, in this unraveling he is called into a deeper understanding of God, himself, the community, and creation. His life swept up into the theological quest.

Let me explain what I mean by that last sentence. You see, theology is simply our "God-talk." It literally comes from the Greek words: Theos = God and Logos = word or rationality. So, we might say that theology is a word about God. However, a better way to think of theology is to think of it as the science of God, which is one way that St. Thomas Aquinas describes theology in his Summa Theologica (I just began reading through the Summa this week. It is fascinating and I would encourage anyone with even a minimal interest in the history of Christian thought to pick up a recent translation of this monumental work). What he means by science, though, is not the way that we tend to think of science today. We tend to narrowly define "science" as only referring to the "natural sciences" and those fields of study that are limited by the "scientific method." The word that Aquinas is using, is actually the Latin term scientia meaning "knowledge" and the ways human knowledge is received and formed is in no way limited to the so called "scientific method" from his perspective.

A better definition for theology or the science of God might be "the articulation of our knowledge of the Lord God as He has revealed Himself to us." (T. A. Noble) The theological quest that Isaiah is compelled to embark on is the quest to truly encounter and know the Lord. It is then our desire to seek understanding and articulation for this relational knowledge that we might engage one another along the journey. As Augustine and Anselm both said in various ways, theology is "faith seeking understanding."

We will never truly achieve certainty as we encounter the mysteries of life and a fortiori (even more so) as we encounter the mystery of God. If we allow the need of certitude to consume us it will hinder and quite possibly destroy our engagement with the Creator. Instead, I invite you to join me on the theological quest to release our need for control and manipulation and instead open our lives up to the Mystery! As we go deeper into the life of mystery may we seek understanding and articulation for that which we cannot "fully" know. It is a risk, that is to be sure, because we don't know what we will find, but if Jesus is who He said He is then it is a risk worth taking. Step out of the boat leaving certainty behind and join us in the adventure of following Christ.