A division between the rational, communicable but superficial, and the intuitive, which moves us and determines our will, but which is incommunicable – a division between the objective and the subjective as Kierkegaard understood that distinction – resolved at the level of the saint, or more exactly at the level of the saintly life, resolved not in a concept, but in a life, or an act, or a succession of acts, acts which are lived not in a clarity they attain to, but through a darkness and confusion of ‘dim apprehension’. It seems to me that this draws together some of the themes we have been considering and points us to a more fundamental unity.
Andrew Louth, Discerning the Mystery. An Essay on the Nature of Theology, (Oxford: Clarendon, 1983). 135-136.
In the concluding chapter of this book, Father Louth summarises the movement of the various chapters, highlighting the theme of division and the search for an underlying unity. He then turns to the work of von Hügel who explored the contrast between reason, logic and abstraction, on the one hand, and instinct, intuition, feeling, and the concrete and contingent, on the other. While the former is necessary for expression, the latter moves us and determines the will although it is seemingly neither transferable and nor repeatable. The solution, for von Hügel, lies not in theory but rather in life, and more specifically in the life of the saint, for religion is not constituted by holding particular views, but rather by
holding this view and this life to proceed somehow from God Himself, so as to bind my innermost mind and conscience to unhesitating assent. Not simply that I think it, but that, in addition, I feel bound to think it, transforms thought about God into a religious act. (134-135)
In this process, the first cheery clarity must disappear to be followed by a dreary confusion and obtuseness of mind before a second clarity arises from the depths of the unconscious. The soul realises, gradually and passing through “dim apprehension”, that all that it does and is is somehow given to it, and that “inasmuch as it is permanent at all, it is grounded upon, environed, supported, penetrated and nourished by Him who is its origin and its end. (135)
Theology is thus a supremely practical wisdom, and is necessarily linked to a life of the virtues and a life of asceticism. While it is true that theologians work in “libraries not laboratories,” as Louth had argued in chapter three, this should not allow us to see it as something abstract. The monuments of the ancient faith that we find in our libraries were very often texts (such as sermons and letters) that were directly concerned with fostering the spiritual life. This connects also with Gadamer’s emphasis on interpretation as performance, for understanding takes place for him not simply in conceptual understanding but in application and it is this application that involves a process of undeceiving us from those of our prejudices that do not fit reality.
In the next post I will continue with Louth’s discussion of Newman.
A vow of conversation 
August 18, 2008 at 1:23 pm
Thank you Sister for your post. As always, I find your thoughts most interesting.
Thinking about the importance of application in theology, I recall my own shift from theology to the human sciences as one that took me from the library to the laboratory. When I was a student I found, and still find, great inspiration in Orthodox theology, I am increasingly concerned with how little we value the application of theology as a source of serious theological research.
Given my sympathies with Louth’s comments, I can’t help wonder if Orthodox theology–at least here in the States–hasn’t abandoned its own sources in practice. These sources, as you point out, are primarily the words of preachers, pastors of souls concerned with the salvation of concrete communities and the men and women who constituted those communities.
Look forward to Louth’s discussion of Newman.
Again, thank you for your blog.
In Christ,
+FrG
August 18, 2008 at 7:45 pm
Father Gregory, thank you for your kind words.
Actually, I have been told that St Teresa of Avila compared a monastery to a laboratory! I’m not sure that I like the analogy, but it does perhaps convey a point.
I must confess that I have become increasingly hesitant about (and irritated by!) an emphasis on “spirituality” or an “application” that is seen as separated from theology, which is then reduced to some sort of arid intellectual knowledge. And this is one of the reasons why I have found this book so helpful. For what Gadamer and Louth are arguing here is not simply that understanding exists as something abstract which is then applied, but rather that understanding occurs in the application, that that is where theology takes place.
I realise that this is probably very different in different contexts, and one of the things that I am seeking to understand better is how we got to the situation where we are in the West, and will hopefully pursue more at some stage.
But I value your comments, and also related things on your blog, because as a Catholic I tend to look to Orthodoxy as having preserved the unity of theology and prayer and life (and the patristic tradition) better than the West, so it’s perhaps salutory to be reminded not to look at it through rose-coloured spectacles! I suppose that human beings are capable of abstracting and idealising even the best of traditions.
August 19, 2008 at 12:39 pm
I hope you will gather all these posts together at some point in your “complete series” section. I unfortunately don’t have time to read them all at the moment but would love to do so at some point. Lowth is on my self-imposed required reading list (along with these books)
August 20, 2008 at 10:07 am
Phil, yes, I plan to do that once I finish posting on the book – which I hope will be soon!