Comments on the Virtue of Faith
In this article, I’d like to make some comments as to the importance of the theological virtue of faith. As faith is not one of the four cardinal virtues, I cannot prove its importance to a non-Christian. For the four cardinal virtues (prudence, justice, courage, and temperance) are suitable for every man to attain his end, regardless of what one believes man’s end is. The three theological virtues (faith, hope, and charity) are only applicable if, borrowing from the Westminster Shorter Catechism, “Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him forever.” I believe this to be man’s chief end, and so therefore the starting point for our discussion on faith.
Well, why is our faith so crucial? It is because salvation cannot be reached by solidarity with the human race. “In Adam all die… only those who are cut off from Adam’s tree - and to this, unlike plant cuttings, they must consent freely - and grafted into the new olive tree of Christ can hope to live.” Salvation, then, is a matter of individual decision to respond to God’s calling. For the rational creature is not only concerned with attaining its chief end, but at achieving it by its own free choice. Salvation is a matter of (individual) faith. So, faith is necessary for us to attain our chief end.
Having established the ultimate importance of faith for us, let us remark on its importance in other aspects.
Faith in Dogmas
Does faith compel us to accept mysteries, dogmas, that we do not fully understand? Christian tradition holds that the answer is yes, and I shall defend that view. But we must tread carefully for it must not be defended for the wrong reason. Many argue that we should accept dogmas because we are simply in a philosophical quagmire about the terms involved.
Take the doctrine of the Trinity. The Catholic philosopher Peter Geach highlights a theological argument he once heard that we do not really have the least idea what a human personality is, much less a Divine personality, and that we should therefore not be overly concerned about these terms and just believe in the doctrine. A similar argument exists for Transubstantiation: we do not have the least idea what the substance of bread is, or even what the phrase ‘substance of x’ means. And so we are not in any position to raise doubt on the matter.
I disagree. As Geach points out regarding the apparent contradiction of dogmas, “we need not adopt the maxim of the legendary Scottish minister to his junior; look them firmly in the eye and pass them by! On the contrary, from the first we may be certain in principle that, as Aquinas said, arguments against the Faith are not proofs but fallacious reasonings; if we are wise enough, we shall be able to show the fallacy; to expose it as sinning against the rules not of some ‘baptized reason’ but of ordinary logic. Credo ut intelligam. without an initial venture of faith the mysteries remain permanently opaque; once that venture has been made, they more and more enlighten and strengthen the mind that contemplates them.”
I hold that a mystery of faith is not blankly unintelligible. Even the most simple-minded believer, and we do not mean this as a condemnation, has some understanding of the mystery to which they can give real assent. Yet even the wisest theologian knows there is infinitely more to be learned. “The mystery is not chaos and darkness visible, but a sea of light, depth beyond depth."
If the mysteries of the faith are true, then knowledge of them should shed understanding on other matters. Just as the sun, too bright to look upon directly, illuminates all other things we see. And just this, it may be argued, is what we do find. The very idea of what a person is was hammered out in controversies over the Holy Trinity, with the main contributors being St Augustine and St Boethius. Boethius’ definition of a person, “an individual substance of a rational nature,” is one of which no equivalent can be found in the philosophy of Plato and Aristotle. It is a genuine advancement in our knowledge of the world.
There are many other possible illustrations of this, but one more will suffice for our purposes. St Aquinas, a theologian, was a far more careful and rigorous logician than William of Ockham, who wrote treatises on formal logic. The main reason being that Aquinas needed a logical framework that would not simply break down when dealing with matters such as the Trinity and the Incarnation. Ockham, on the other hand, was willing to concede that syllogisms formally valid were liable to lead one astray if the subject matter were one of the Divine Mysteries. A view that Aquinas would have found abhorring; far too similar to the Two Truths theory which he so valiantly fought against. Aquinas’ rebuttal of Two Truths theory being another advancement in our knowledge
I think a very good case could be made that the mind of Western man has been strengthened by the intellectual work of elucidating the mysteries of faith. This suggests (though it does not prove) that God illuminates the mind of the faithful like the sun lighting up the Earth, though too bright to gaze upon with direct vision.
The Man of Faith
The true test of the virtue of faith is hanging on to the truth once received, despite all temptations. Even in the face of seemingly decisive counterevidence. “The man of faith must act like the hero of a romance who says to his love when her innocence is triumphantly shown, ‘I always believed you were innocent, even when I knew you were guilty.’” But what matters most is not that he stand strong when assailed by philosophical doubts, but during the contingencies of everyday life. For prosperity may make God seem superfluous; adversity may make His existence appear incredible. But the truth about God cannot change with such accidents. One may pity an individual when his faith is shattered by terrible events, but no respect is due to those who talk about a re-appraisal of our faith due to horrors near us in space and time. “Such talk is solemn, but it is not serious. The world has always had much grimness in it; but the lives of the Saints, and the sure prophetical word, have always shone like candles in the dark.”
Bulgakov's Behemoth