Theology and Holiness

Theology is an academic endeavor whose subject matter is God.  This does not mean, however, that a theologian is automatically going to be a holy or pious person.  In chapter 5 of The Great Divorce, C. S. Lewis presents a portrait of a theologian who was consigned to Hell.  At one point in the course of this theologian's career, theology became a means of exercising his intellect rather than a subject that contains truth.  For him, theology was merely a cerebral game and had ceased to be the search for answers to his deepest questions.

Even the best theologians often struggle with their learning and the quest for holiness through humble faith.  Cardinal Ratzinger (Pope Benedict XVI) expresses the tension St. Paul experienced as a theologian in the following passage:

How does Paul reconcile his scorn for the wisdom of the Greeks with his own spiritual struggle to comprehend the content of faith - a struggle that would have been unthinkable without the legacy of Hebrew and Greek learning?  How are the two combined in the history of faith - the constant reference to the unlearned and the steady development of scholarly theological knowledge?  The question is of prime importance because it reflects the debate that is still in progress, despite the lapse of time, about the foundation, the possibility and the direction of a coexistence of faith and learning.¹

An extremely erudite Jew, Paul had the Jewish Scriptures echoing in his mind.  He knew of the praise it heaped on the wise man who sought to know and follow the Law.  Yet, Paul was also aware of the sayings of Jesus, who extolled simplicity over learning when he declared in prayer, "I thank thee, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to babes" (Luke 10:21, RSV).  Paul himself was aware of the dangers of learning when he wrote to the Corinthians, "'Knowledge' puffs up, but love builds up.  If any one imagines that he knows something, he does not yet know as he ought to know.  But if one loves God, one is known by him" (1 Cor. 8:1-3).  Although Paul is divided between learning and a simple faith, one thing is clear for him: knowledge is nothing compared to charity, which is at the heart of Christianity.

At the same time however, Paul understood that charity includes sharing with others the saving truth of Jesus Christ, a truth which theology seeks to understand as fully as possible (cf. 1 Tim. 2:4).  Ratzinger expresses the same idea when he explains, "The love that is required by faith and that belongs to its innermost nature does not exclude the other's need for truth . . . faith that reaches out to the other reaches out of necessity to his questioning as well."²

Fast-forwarding to today, the academic discipline of theology has multiplied extensively. There are many theology graduate students throughout the world who are or will be vying for the top faculty positions at various institutions of higher education.  Theologians should keep in mind that theology is intrinsically related to holiness since the subject of theology is God.  The same tension that existed in Paul nearly two-thousand years ago also exists in many theologians today.

Cologne Cathedral, image courtesy of Connie on Pixdaus

In the 20th century, the theologian whose theology was perhaps the most explicitly related to the quest for holiness is Hans Urs von Balthasar.  Von Balthasar described his theology as a "kneeling theology."³  Edward T. Oakes compares von Balthasar's theology to a Gothic cathedral which can function as a sort of museum for secular visitors, but which was intended to be a place of worship for the Faithful.⁴  Von Balthasar insists that theology should not merely be an academic exercise but should be something edifying and sanctifying.

Von Balthasar's example should lead theologians to reflect on the reasons why he or she does theology.  Is it just to acquire or keep a job?  Is it to occupy one's mind with intellectually scintillating information?  Is it to be able to boast to others about one's advanced degrees?  Is it just to do something rather than nothing so as to ward off boredom?  Or is it for reasons that are altogether on a higher plane of nobility?

Is it to constantly remind oneself of God?  Is it to consider the universe from the divine perspective? Is it to come into contact with edifying information so as to build up oneself and others?  Is it to mold, shape and carefully develop students who will in turn become teachers of other students?  Is it to serve the people of God, utilize one's God given talents and, in so doing, to fulfill one's vocation?⁵

A Dominican once imparted to me the following words of wisdom: "My desk has been my cross. Although it has been hard work, my life as a Dominican has been very rewarding."  The cross is indeed the image of every theologian's vocation.  Just as Christ gave himself up for the Church, so too should theologians give up themselves so as to serve the Church.

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1. Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, Principles of Catholic Theology: Building Stones for a Fundamental Theology, trans. Sister Mary Frances McCarthy, S.N.D. (San Francisco: Ignatius, 1987), 336.^↩

2. Ibid., 337.^↩

3. Edward T. Oakes, Pattern of Redemption: The Theology of Hans Urs von Balthasar (New York: Continuum, 1994), 7.^↩

4. Ibid., 7-8.^↩

5. For more information on what the Catholic Church teaches about the vocation of theologians, see Donum Veritatis: On the Ecclesial Vocation of the Theologian.^↩