“This Great Unfolding of Truth Under the Guidance of the Holy Spirit”

by the Most Rev. Robert Barron
Auxiliary Bishop of Los Angeles
Homily from the Mass of the Holy Spirit (transcript)
Convocation 2016
 

Once again, a very pleasant good morning to everybody, and thank you, President McLean, and to the whole faculty and to all the Board of Governors, for inviting me to this wonderful occasion. Thank you for having me.

Why, precisely, do we call the Mass at the commencement of an academic year in a Catholic institution the Mass of the Holy Spirit? Well, you could say, in general, we are praying for the Holy Spirit to guide us, lift us up, literally inspire us. There is a more specific reason, I think. And in the Gospel for today, which is one of the most precious texts in the whole Tradition, taken from that wonderful high priestly prayer of Jesus in the Gospel of John (14:23-25), this text gives us a clue: Jesus speaks of the gift of the Holy Spirit, Who will “teach you all things and remind you of everything that I have said.”

In a very real sense, the Father spoke all that He could possibly speak in speaking the Son, Who is properly called the Logos. So in this Logos, the full treasury of the Divine Being and wisdom is, indeed, disclosed to us. It would be inappropriate to look for any further revelation. The Father spoke everything in the Son. Nevertheless, the unfolding of the meaning of that revelation takes place only over large swaths of space and time. Think of the way the acorn grows into the mighty oak, or how a river over much space and time deepens and broadens. Think of the radical difference between the source of the Mississippi and the mouth of the Mississippi, the latter being far more impressive than the former.

John Henry Newman, in his great text on the development of Christian doctrine, said the deposit of Faith is not passed on dumbly, like a football. Rather, Newman said, it is like a diamond, which is tossed up into the air, to catch the light in different ways, revealing different facets. And then when it is caught, it is thrown up again. This is the long process of debate and argument and sifting and wondering that goes on in the great tradition. I love this line from Newman’s text. He says, “A real idea is commensurate with the sum total of its possible aspects.” There is a whole semester course in that one line. The content of a real idea — an idea like the Incarnation, an idea like the Eucharist — is commensurate with the sum total of its possible aspects. In other words, we never get it all at once, we in our finite and historically conditioned minds.

No, but as the aspects of this great idea gradually unfold — and the process of throwing that diamond up to catch the light in different ways — that’s how a real idea emerges. Newman (here he anticipates people like Lonergan in the 20th century) says the mind is empty at first, but not empty like a box, just dumbly empty. It is empty more like a stomach; it is empty but it know what it wants. In other words, when the mind takes in an idea, it plays with it, Newman says, in a lively way, thinking about it, turning it over, wondering about it, looking at it from different perspectives. And then, when one lively mind finishes its work, it tosses the idea to another lively mind, which then engages in a similar set of operations. And then it is tossed to another, and then to another, and then to another. And in this long, sustained play of conversation, the contents of a real idea gradually emerge.

So, with Newman’s image in mind, think of this wonderful play of the Catholic intellectual tradition over the centuries. St. John knew the Incarnation personally. St. John knew the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, and he said, “What our eyes have seen, what we have looked upon, what our eyes have touched,” — that was St. John’s direct contact, if you want, with the idea of the Incarnation. But then John, who certainly turned that idea over in his very lively mind — witness the Gospel — John tossed that idea to St. Polycarp, who tossed it to St. Irenaeus, who threw it to Origen of Alexandria, who passed it on to Augustine, who gave it to Thomas Aquinas, who shared it with Robert Bellarmine, who spoke it to John Henry Newman, who tossed it, passed it in on to Congar and de Lubac and Rahner and von Balthasar, who have finally given it to us — the contents of this real idea of the Incarnation emerging in this lovely play of minds, over much space and time, and finally passed on to us.

Now, what guarantees that this process does not devolve into chaos? What is the guarantee that, in this play of lively minds over the centuries, development does not devolve into corruption? Newman’s answer: the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit. Now, remember the words of Jesus: We will give you this gift of the Holy Spirt, Who will lead you into all truth. Later on in that same discourse, Jesus says, You cannot bear the fullness of truth now, but the Spirit will lead you into all truth. It is the Spirit of God that guides and directs this great conversation of the Tradition, Who disciplines it, allowing it to move forward with confidence.

Now here is an uplifting truth that brings us back squarely to this day and to the patron of this place. Thomas Aquinas said that God “delights in using secondary causality.” I know it sounds like a bit of dry, scholastic academicism, but think about that. God could accomplish all He wants by Himself. Of course He could! God doesn’t need the world. God could achieve all He wants on His own. God could make sure all this happens at once. But God delights in using secondary causality. That means people like us. He gives us, if you want, the great privilege of carrying the conversation forward. I love how he speaks of the dignitas causalitatis, the dignity of causality that we, too, can participate in His own causality as we move the great conversation forward.

We listen to all the voices — honoring what Chesterton, of course, as you all know, called the “democracy of the dead.” We listen to this great conversation, and then we inherit it, and we ourselves enter into it.

You know what Origen, Augustine, Aquinas, Bonaventure, Bellarmine, Newman, Chesterton, Balthazar all have in coming? They are all dead.

Now, I mean no disrespect. They are alive in Christ! What I mean is, they are not in the arena any more. But we are … but we are … but we are. And this great conversation, this great unfolding of truth under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, has been now entrusted to us. See, friends, that is why you are here. That is why you are here at an institution like this, so that you can learn this lively conversation, so as to enter into it for our time.

You learn the moves. You study the masters. You hone your own skills. You train your minds. You discipline your hearts. And then, today, at this Mass, you say, Veni Sancte Spiritus, come, Holy Spirit, to guide us into all truth.