In his chapter “What’s Wrong with the School?” G.K. Chesterton writes that educators have “the responsibility of affirming the truth of our human tradition and handing it on with the voice of authority.” This responsibility flows from the claims our children have on us: if we do not hand on to them this human tradition, we are depriving them of their birthright. As Catholics, the responsibility is even more serious. We have the responsibility not just of passing along cultural wisdom, but the inheritance of their faith.
In Catholic academic circles, this inheritance is often called the “Catholic intellectual tradition.” But what is the Catholic intellectual tradition? Is it a body of knowledge - such that someone who has read a ton of Church documents or studied a lot of Church history can be said to have acquired it? Is it limited only to Catholics, or can non-Catholics participate in or be studied as part of it as well? Is it limited to certain subjects - say theology, philosophy, and history - or can science and math be part of it, too? If an earnest, practicing Catholic happens to be engaged in some kind of academic work, is that enough for it to be included in the “Catholic intellectual tradition”? Or does it mean something more definitive than that?
These questions are explored in some depth by David Paul Deavel, associate professor of theology at the University of St. Thomas in Houston, in the preface to the Fall 2021 edition of the journal Logos (Vol. 24:4). Deavel argues that the term is often “bandied about continually” with no effort at defining its meaning “in a confident and robust manner.” He writes that it cannot simply mean “whatever Catholics are doing intellectually”:
Catholic intellectuals studying ants or sound can still be participating [in the Catholic intellectual tradition]. . . [but] non-Catholics who are doing honest intellectual work that coheres with Catholic teaching and uses its sources are similarly part of [it]. Yet Catholics who are studying other things and claim there is no connection to the Church's teachings or understanding are not in the [tradition]. Nor are non-Catholics whose teachings directly thwart the Catholic understanding of the world (p. 7).
So, then, the Catholic intellectual tradition seems to be defined not by what someone is studying or even by who is doing the studying; rather, it seems to have something to do with adopting a certain “Catholic understanding of the world.” But what does such an understanding entail? Based in part on Deavel’s argument, I would argue that the Catholic intellectual tradition must encompass at least the following understandings:
The truth is knowable. It must affirm the philosophical conviction that there are knowable truths. Within this claim are two embedded ones: first, that the truth is objectively real (not merely subjective or relative); and second, that the human person can come to know it - not fully, completely, or exhaustively, but truly. In other words, human claims have meaning, and the relationship of those claims to the truth can be objectively evaluated.
The world is created, and not by us. The Catholic intellectual tradition must also affirm the createdness of the world and of human beings: we did not create ourselves, nor did we create the world around us. There is a “givenness” to creation that we must accept and that makes certain intellectual and moral claims on us. (Indeed, it is from this conviction that the first one flows: the reason that we believe human beings can come to know the truth is because we are created in the image of God, who is the source of all truth and who wants us to come to know Him. God therefore “built into” us the capacity and desire to know the truth.)
Faith is a legitimate avenue to knowledge. The Catholic intellectual tradition also takes seriously the fact that there are some truths beyond our reason’s ability to know unaided. In other words, the Catholic intellectual tradition acknowledges that faith, in addition to reason, is an authentic avenue by which to pursue genuine knowledge.
Revelation is a legitimate source of truth. As a corollary to the above, those working within the Catholic intellectual tradition also must acknowledge that those truths not accessible to us by reason come through revelation. With the Church, the Catholic intellectual tradition believes that God reveals Himself through both creation, in history, and definitively in the person of Jesus Christ. This conviction justifies the Catholic study of nature in the sciences, the Catholic study of human history and culture, and the Catholic study of theology: all of these pursuits are, in the end, a search for God. Such a worldview - which sees “God in all things” - can be called a sacramental worldview.
The legacy of the Church deserves respect. The Catholic intellectual tradition respects the Catholic Church as a repository of the truths of revelation. Thus, those working within the Catholic intellectual tradition exhibit humble respect for and submission to the dogmatic and doctrinal teachings of the Church. They take seriously what the Church takes seriously: the Church Fathers, the ecumenical councils, papal teachings, the Doctors of the Church, and the witness of the saints.
The truth should be pursued with courage, charity, and humility. Finally, those working within the Catholic intellectual tradition must pursue the truth in a Christ-like manner - with love and conviction, or with “fierce charity” as Deavel puts it (p. 15). Christ was never afraid to speak the truth - and indeed, such courage cost Him His life! Yet His proclamation of the truth was always out of a genuine love for those to whom He was proclaiming it. He desired their genuine good - their salvation and freedom as sons and daughters of God: "You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free." For us mere mortals, we must also add to charity a certain humility - an awareness of our own sinfulness, of the very real possibility that our fallen intellects are wrong, and of the need to learn from others.
So, when we say as Catholic educators that we want to hand on the “Catholic intellectual tradition” to our students, we mean that we want to give them not only knowledge of the Church and her teachings (which is, of course, essential!) but also we want to pass on to them particular philosophical commitments and a particular worldview through which to approach the world and their studies - no matter what they are studying. Chesterton asserts - correctly, I think - that “every education teaches a philosophy.” This is the philosophy that the Catholic intellectual tradition wishes to convey.
The task of a Catholic school is to pass on this way of seeing and understanding the world to its students, and to empower them to participate fully in this tradition in pursuit of the truth. It is an education that requires academic rigor both in terms of content and the cultivation of intellectual skills. But it also demands cultivating a love for the intellectual richness of the Church as well as a deep moral character. To set our students on fire with this love and instill in them this virtue in their pursuit of true wisdom: this is the weighty responsibility of the Catholic educator. Only when this vision inspires a school can it be truly said to provide a Catholic education.
Cover image:
Raphael, Disputation of the Holy Sacrament, Fresco, 1509, Vatican Museums. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
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