“And does anyone know what Gospel this is from? …Kevin?”
This familiar exchange has been enacted throughout my years as a Lewis student. After realizing I was a theology major, the professor never failed to call on me whenever any religious topic entered the classroom. On the one hand, this is to be expected and seems only logical in light of theology’s quest for “faith seeking understanding.” Nevertheless, I have always had an unsettling feeling that I need to confess: most of what I know about my Catholic faith I didn’t learn in a Theology classroom.
The background of my religious education is very sketchy and incomplete. I went to CCD. (You’re right. It wasn’t fun.) I went to public schools my whole life. I was never particularly religious. I’m fairly certain I slipped by without memorizing the Apostles Creed, let alone the Nicene. When my priest interviewed me before my Confirmation he asked me what change I might like to see in the Church. Quite fittingly, I replied that I would think it wise to cut an extra ten or 20 minutes off Mass (so we could all get out of the parking lot and off to dinner in a more efficient manner). The priest was speechless. Only by the grace of God was I confirmed. Or perhaps God has a much more refined sense of humor than I cared to admit.
When I began to see my faith as a source for a deeper meaning and purpose in my high-school years, I knew I needed to rediscover the basics. I immersed myself in the readings at Mass and looked over the Catechism. I learned the many prayers that I had neglected.
The irony of all of this is that most of the questions I receive a theology major touch on these very basic elements of the Catholic faith. The questions aren’t about the divine processions in Trinitarian doctrine or concerns with the relationship between Christ’s dual natures. They’re simple questions about basic religious literacy. How do we know God exists? What is the Gospel message? What happened in the Bible?
When I am looked to for these answers, I must admit that I do not usually draw on anything I learned from a theology class. These basic questions come from my own attempt to learn what I was not taught in my religious education. Generations of poor catechesis have produced a nearly unprecedented level of religious ignorance. Any Catholic person should be able to answer the questions posed to me. One need not be a theology major.
Even as I have advanced in theological studies, I find myself having to return to the basic gaps in my religious education. In his first letter to the Corinthians, St. Paul tells his fledgling congregation that “I could not talk to you as spiritual people, but as fleshly people, as infants in Christ. I fed you milk, not solid food, because you were unable to take it” (1 Corinthians 3:1-2). Are our theology classes providing a more advanced knowledge while neglecting to cover the very basics many have been denied?
Moreover, most of my knowledge comes from my experience of living the Christian spiritual life. I have learned far more from my time spent in a classroom of silent prayer and meditation on the life of Christ than in a classroom at the university. The experiential knowledge of the heart that comes from prayer becomes more real and living than my theological research. By participating in a community of faith and engaging others on my spiritual journey, I have learned the Christian faith in a far more personally meaningful way. Some professors marvel at my knowledge, but I simply try to live the life the Church offers for all of us. I pray for wisdom and understanding. I immerse myself in the beautiful ancient liturgy of the Church. I try to be gentle, caring, and pure of heart.
At times, I feel tension between academic theology and my growth in the Catholic faith. Academic theology has enriched my understanding of the faith by providing me with knowledge about God, and we can only love what we first know. At other times, I find academic theology as separate business apart from (if not harmful to) my faith.
Faith and reason remain in constant dialogue, but the tension is not always so easily resolved, which has led me to one of the greatest epiphanies of my college years: Theology does not make you holy. It is possible to know much about God without really knowing God.
One of the greatest theologians, St. Thomas Aquinas, realized at the end of his life that all of his theology was straw compared to the beatific vision of God. Whether I become a theologian or not, I simply want to love God and serve Him. I just want to be a good Catholic and a good man. And if all of my knowledge simply comes from this, then I know I’ll be okay.
Kevin D. Magas, Staff Writer
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