Just outside the ancient walls of Constantinople stands the ancient monastery church of the Holy Savior in the Country or, as it is more commonly known, Chora monastery. Once a place of solitude outside Constantine’s city, it is now in a quiet neighborhood of modern Istanbul. As visitors duck out of the warm sun and into the cool dark of the outer narthex, they are immediately greeted with the shimmering mosaic of Christ Pantocrator, the Word made flesh cradling Word of the Gospel in his left hand and raising his right hand in blessing. The words of Psalm 116:9 under the icon tell the visitor that the Pantocrator is “the land (chora) of the living,” from whence, legend has it, comes the name of the monastery. Along the surrounding the walls, ceilings, and arches of the exonarthex, glittering tesserae trace out scenes from the life of the Savior. Looking up, on the arch facing the Pantocrator sits the icon of Mary, hands raised in prayer, the infant Christ seated in the circle of her womb facing the viewer and raising his tiny hand in blessing. In Greek, this particular image is called Chora tou Achoretou, the Dwelling Place of the Infinite or Container of the Uncontainable. Throughout the Middle Ages, this revered image of Mary travelled westward into Europe where the name shifted from Container of the Uncontainable to shorter, more Western names, Our Lady of the Sign, Our Lady Seat of Wisdom, or Our Lady of the Word.
This particular icon leads us to meditation on its manifold meanings: Mary as Container of the Uncontainable, as the door to beckoning us into relationship with the infinite God and into contemplation of the universe He created; Christ the Logos, the Word and Wisdom of God; Christ who is Truth itself; the Word as legible, knowable, and communicating the mind of the Godhead, Wisdom as the capacity to see the whole in the many facets of created reality and reality’s relation to its Creator. It is also a reminder of the great dignity and freedom to which the human person is called as icon and iconographer, image and image maker, of God. For the Catholic educator, the icon of Our Lady of the Word is a reminder of the ends of classical liberal learning and what it seeks: union with Christ and wisdom through a deeper understanding of creation and its Creator in the study of the seven liberal arts. It is Christ who gives coherence to the study of the arts, and it is He, the ground of all reality and all Truth, who gives unity to our knowledge and ultimately draws us into union with Him.[1] St. John Henry Newman pointed out that it is the Unity of Truth lends unity to Knowledge and integrity to the mind. Truth is One, and all truths revealed in our study of the arts originate in Him and lead back to Him. I argue that it is Newman’s point that the Unity of Truth confers coherence to our knowledge that is distinctive in the Catholic approach to classical liberal arts education; it is this point that is clearly expressed in the icon Our Lady of the Word and which a Catholic classical liberal arts pedagogy must make explicit in the classroom.
There are many perspectives from which to teach classically. Generally, secular/public and faith-based comprise two general approaches, and within the latter, we find further distinctions Protestant, Jewish, and Catholic. The liberal arts are a way of coming to understand and describe reality that we find naturally coherent. The arts of the word seek to understand and express the human experience of reality, whereas the arts of the number aim understanding reality’s extension in space and time. Serious classical educators acknowledge that there is such a thing as truth, that it can be known by means of reason, and that it can be known with others—a radical claim in a post-truth world. However, if one argues that the truth of reality can be known, one must also ask from whence truth obtains its coherence? What—or Who—grants this world order, meaning, a rational consistency? The atheist might say “chance;” the agnostic would claim such knowledge not possible; the Jewish tradition would say “God,” pointing to Genesis; and the Christian would specify further, stating that it is in and through Christ, the second Person of the Trinity, that reality finds its coherence. The Prologue of St. John makes a radical claim that Christ the Word is the origin of all reality and the source of its fundamental unity: “In Him all things were made; without Him nothing was made that has been made.”[2] All things, from the smallest atom to the furthest galaxy, reflect Him and find the ground of their existence. Jesus Himself affirms this when He proclaimed to his followers that “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life…no one comes to the Father except through Me.”[3]
It is this claim that the icon Our Lady of the Word reaffirms: Christ, the ground of all reality, stands forth and greets His creation from her womb. She reveals Him to the world and is the seat from which the infant Christ reigns. In his Meditations and Devotions, St. John Henry Newman considered what it meant for Mary to be the revelatory “mirror” of the Divine Perfection and the “seat” of the Word of God. He noted that, in addition to carrying Him for nine months, she lived with Him in His divine sanctity for thirty years. He observed:
[C]onsider too she had Him all to herself for thirty years. Do we not see that, as she was full of grace before she conceived Him in her womb, she must have had a vast incomprehensible sanctity when she had lived close to God for thirty years? –a sanctity of the angelic order, reflecting back the attributes of God with a fullness and exactness. [4]
Her intimacy with Jesus from His infancy through to His resurrection and ascension, was of such depth, Newman writes,
that though she was a poor woman without human advantages, she must in her knowledge of creation, of the universe, and of history, have excelled the greatest of philosophers, and in her theological knowledge the greatest of theologians, and in her prophetic discernment the most favored of prophets… . [A]ll that is obscure, all that is fragmentary in revelation, would, so far as the knowledge is possible to man, be brought out to her in clearness and simplicity by Him who is the Light of the World.[5]
Here, Newman is a guide to understanding the unique role the image of Our Lady of the Word has in communicating and mediating visually what Christ teaches about Himself and why she is particularly fitting for imitation in the pursuit of Truth, Who is a person, and who is the source of unity of all that exists. The Virgin reveals what she knows to be true: all that exists mirrors in some way its Maker and partakes in His goodness.
If Our Lady of the Word is a guide to our meditation on and wonder of Christ’s work in the world, then Newman is a guide to help us think about how to instantiate Christ the Logos at the center of our schools. Scattered throughout his writings but particularly prominent in The Idea of a University, Newman’s elaboration of the relationship between Truth and Knowledge helps us to understand what is distinctive about classical liberal arts education in relation to postmodern, post-truth education. Without a proper metaphysics to account for the nature and modes of being and existence, and without a consequent inquiry into ultimate causation allowing for even the most natural theistic position, there can be no stable, shared conception of Truth. The rejection of metaphysics and philosophically informed theology in sixteenth-century Protestantism, the rise of a preference for solely scientific, material explanations of phenomena in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and the triumph of secularism in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries paved the way to our present postmodern, relativist, post-truth ChatGPT moment in which we are not certain of the truth of anything, much less our capacity to know anything true together. Newman was convinced that it is philosophy and theology that provides unitive coherence to the study of reality through the disciplines, and that without them, knowledge in the arts and sciences tends toward fragmentation.
Thus, the unity of Truth gives coherence to knowledge as it is accessed through the disciplines, enabling a vision of the whole of reality. In a lecture titled “Knowledge its Own End,” Newman argued,
I have said that all branches of knowledge are connected together, because the subject-matter of knowledge is intimately united in itself, as being the acts and works of the Creator. Hence it is that the Sciences, into which our knowledge may be said to be cast, have multiplied bearings one on another, and an internal sympathy, and admit, or rather demand, comparison and adjustment. They complete, correct, balance each other. This consideration, if well-founded, must be taken into account, not only as regards the attainment of truth, which is their common end, but as regards the influence which they exercise upon those whose education consists in the study of them. I have said already, that to give undue prominence to one is to be unjust to another; to neglect or supersede these is to divert those from their proper object. It is to unsettle the boundary lines between science and science, to disturb their action, to destroy the harmony which binds them together. Such a proceeding will have a corresponding effect when introduced into a place of education. There is no science but tells a different tale, when viewed as a portion of a whole, from what is likely to suggest when taken by itself, without the safeguard, as I may call it, of others.[6]
In other words, if Truth is One and all creation is an overflowing act of that One Truth, then any study of an aspect of that creation should reflect in some way the unity of its origin. Each discipline reveals truth about creation and the Creator and possesses its own object and method of inquiry in order to arrive at that truth as disclosed by specific phenomena. Botany is the study of plants by means of the scientific method; music is the study of number extended in time and space; history is the study of human acts using historical methods; theology is the study of the acts and works of God by means of various interpretive methods, and so on. The more one studies various aspects of creation from the vantage of the different disciplines, the more one grasps the unity of all reality. Furthermore, each discipline with its methods is needed to grasp the whole, and the boundaries between the disciplines ought to be respected even while unity is maintained. Newman cautions against confusing the coherence of the liberal arts for their collapse into one method or approach to. Method is not the guarantor of coherence. The guarantor of a coherent, integrated vision of reality that resists fragmentation is Truth Himself, who is Christ.
Newman was not the first to argue that the unity of Truth gives rise to the unity of knowledge, but he is its most cogent advocate in an ideological age in which the highest aims of education are to train students to be “college and career ready.” His is a rallying cry for education as the pursuit of wisdom, the ability to “see the whole,” to understand reality as knowable and coherent, and to act accordingly.[7] Newman reminds our fragmented world of a conception of the universe that was widely accepted in ages past. Medieval scholars visually represented of the unity of knowledge in the Liberal Arts through an image of a circle or a tree to convey the integral relations between the various arts. Perhaps the best-known image of the Liberal Arts comes from the twelfth-century manuscript, the Hortus Deliciarum (Garden of Delights), in which the seven liberal arts are arranged in a circle, with philosophy at the center. The arts are styled as ladies in waiting around philosophy, depicted as a Queen with her scribes, Socrates and Plato. Outside the circle of true knowledge sit magi and poets whose claims are nothing more than “fabulosa commenta” or fictious claims.[8] Another example is Ramon Llull’s description of the Arbor Scientiae (Tree of Knowledge) have philosophical principles as the roots of the various branches of knowledge. The clear theme is that philosophy or metaphysics provides unity to the whole.
Newman was also aware that education in wisdom or the capacity to see the whole was not obtained solely through the accumulation of knowledge, but through cultivation of Truth in one’s life and through according one’s actions to that Truth through the practice of virtue. In Discourse Eight of Idea of a University, Newman outlines the perils of study without religious belief and practice in his portrayal of the gentleman of the world and the gentleman of Christian virtue, drawing a bright distinction between the two. After thoroughly describing both types, he writes,
Such are some of the lineaments of the ethical character, which the cultivated intellect will form, apart from religious principle. They are seen within the pale of the Church and without it, in holy men and in the profligate; they form the beau-ideal of the world; they partly assist and partly distort the development of the Catholic. They may subserve the education of a St. Francis de Sales or a Cardinal Pole… . [St.] Basil and Julian [the Apostate] were fellow-students at the schools of Athens; and one became the Saint and Doctor of the Church, the other her scoffing and relentless foe.[9]
Newman thus reminds us that Truth in all its facets is the object of education and that it is not merely the acquisition of knowledge that is the goal but the attainment of wisdom, which is to recognize the unity of Truth in the pursuit of knowledge and to accord our lives to it.
This brings us back, then, to Our Lady of the Word and the task of Catholic classical liberal arts educator: just as Mary shows forth Truth as One, the source and origin of all creation and the object of all our study and affection, so too must the Catholic educator. How can we make explicit the relations among the disciplines in our classrooms? How can we help students grasp the whole while leading them toward a deeper understanding of poetry, music, history, or biology? How can we help them to recognize Truth and integrate it into their lives? To set out on the path to wisdom? I would like to propose a return to four principles, two of which are ancient and two of which are newer, and none of which are my own bright idea.
The first principle is hilaritas or cheerfulness. In his treatise on catechizing the uninstructed, St. Augustine recommended that teachers convey their gaudium de veritate, their joy in the truth, and he called this quality hilaritas.[10] It is an expression of confidence that the Truth can be known and loved. Newman called this the “catching force” of personal influence and it inspires students to love and delight in the Truth through their teachers’ own obvious affection for it. Far from being a “tick-box” approach to the tradition that confuses quantity for rigor, Augustine’s and Newman’s approach is fundamentally relational and demonstrates to students that true wisdom and joy are to be found in friendship with and love for the Truth.
The second principle to guide our practice is what we might call Contact with Reality in the Age of the Unreal. Most teachers have experienced students who have succumbed to the siren song of the internet, social media and gaming platforms. Their lives are increasingly shaped by the virtual and unreal, whether virtual worlds or online “friendships.” When parents and teachers encourage contact with reality, whether it is reading books outside, blowing things up in a chemistry lab, putting on a play, taking part in a team sport, doing a nature study, making music, hiking, biking, or star gazing, it draws students out of the unreal and into the real. The cultivation of wonder through contact with nature is essential to growth in wisdom.[11]
A third principle that lends great depth and power to the efforts of teacher, and that is Friendship—with each other and with the Truth.[12] Newman notes that we should not underestimate the role of virtuous friendship, as good friends encourage growth in the virtues and help integrate and give stability to the personality. True friendship grants sturdy shelter for students as they struggle toward maturity, just as stakes around a young tree uphold it as it seeks to establish roots. Additionally, intellectual friendship among faculty is likewise a powerful witness to the stability and joy that come from pursuing truth with friends. Many young people want to belong to a community, and thrive when welcomed into a community of scholars based on friendship with the Truth.
The final principle is Fostering a Philosophical Habit of Mind.[13] It is the role of the teacher to point out the connections between the disciplines and to demonstrate the unity of knowledge rooted in the Unity of Truth. One way to do this is to name for students the kinds of questions they are asking so that they can recognize the boundaries of the disciplines and recognize the value different kinds of questions bring to the study of a thing. For example, in a history class, a student might ask a question that is not historical, but is theological, philosophical, or scientific. By naming the type of question, the teacher has done two things: they have established a point of connection between the disciplines and they have named the different approaches the disciplines take to some aspect of creation. This, of course, requires a teacher to have familiarity with other disciplines, a familiarity which is best obtained through intellectual friendship among faculty. Our ability as teachers to see the relations between things and to grasp the unity of knowledge in the Unity of Truth is essential to helping students open their eyes to it as well.
If Catholic classical liberal arts schools pursue these principles, whether they are K-12 or post-secondary, they will guide students along the path to wisdom and to happiness. It is such a joy and a consolation to know true things with friends and to integrate them into a stable life; and in this regard, Catholic classical liberal arts schools must be ports in the postmodern storm that enable such knowledge and such experience. Like Our Lady of the Word, Catholic schools, school leaders, and educators must show forth the Unity of the Truth Who is a Person, who is One, who revealed Himself through His creation, and who can be known through the study of the classical liberal arts.
[1] Reinhard Hütter, “University Education, Unity of Knowledge, and (Natural) Theology: John Henry Newman’s Provocative Vision,” Nova et Vetera, 11:4 (2013), 1019.
[6] John Henry Newman, Idea of a University, ed. Martin Svaglic (Notre Dame: Notre Dame University Press, 1960), 75.
[7] Reinhard Hütter, “University Education, the Unity of Knowledge, and (Natural) Theology: John Henry Newman’s Provocative Vision,” Nova et Vetera, 11:4 (2013): 1019-1025.
[8] A 12th c. illuminated miniature from the Pierpont Morgan collection, probably accompanying a copy of Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy or Martianus Capella’s Marriage of Philology and Mercury, depicts Queen Philosophy as a mother encircled by her children, the seven liberal arts, whom she feeds from seven streams of milk flowing from her breast. MS M.982 “Philosophy Nourishing the Seven Liberal Arts”
[10] St. Augustine, De Catechizandis Rudibus (On Catechizing the Uninstructed), trans. SDF Salmond. Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers Series, ed. Philip Schaff (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co, 1887): Chapters 2 and 10.
[11] John F. Boyle, MasterThomas Aquinas and the Fullness of Life: University of Dallas Aquinas Lecture (South Bend, IN: St. Augustine Press, 2013).
[12][12] John Henry Newman, “On the Love of Relations and Friends, a Sermon Preached on the Feast of St. John the Evangelist,” Parochial and Plain Sermons, vol. 2, (London: Longmans, Green, and Co., 1908); John Henry Newman, “Personal Influence, the Means of Propagating the Truth,” Fifteen Sermons Preached before the University of Oxford (London: Longmans, Green, and Co, 1909).
[13] John Henry Newman, “Knowledge its Own End,” in Idea of a University, ed. Martin J. Svaglic (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1960), 76.