In my last post, "My Theological Journey: Part I," I outlined the biographical details that led to my interest in theology, going all the way back to times even before my own memory begins. I ended with the two most important parts of my development as a child and how they must bolster each other for sound theology: intellectual honesty with rigor and prayer. Those themes will likely recur many times throughout my blog posts. For now, however, I'd like to move on to discussing key influences in my theological development in addition to those already mentioned: my father and mother and Peter Kreeft.
Other figures were my extended family. My dad's brothers were really interested in deep philosophical, theological, and political discussions. I only half-jokingly say--and have for decades--that they are the only group of people I know that can argue passionately with one another even when they agree. They're all extremely intelligent, and they love to ponder and debate and discuss deep questions that many of us wouldn't even think to ask, let alone have a passion for. That love for intellectual conversation and rigorous debate left an impression on me. Many of my mother's siblings were a bit different. They were knowledgeable in their faith and they loved their faith, but they didn't enjoy arguing. They more shared the faith and focused on the essentials rather than debating the finer points. This too had an effect on me. I feel blessed to have witnessed both styles, as I think each has its place. That gave me an ability to enter into either kind of dialogue as the situation warrants. I'm not perfect in either regard, but I think the witness of both sides of the family were complementary and formed me deeply, and for that I am grateful. Likewise, my grandparents were a huge influence, especially my maternal grandparents with whom I lived for many years. I think many of our family members still look at them as the ideal of Catholic Christian marriage and parenting, something any of us could only hope to approximate.
Extra-familially, I began reading--probably in middle school and early high school on, more books. Another one by Peter Kreeft that greatly affected me was A Refutation of Moral Relativism: Interviews with an Absolutist. Again written in a dialogue format, Peter Kreeft provides an extremely readable presentation of the main errors of moral relativism and leads one logically to a sound grasp of the necessity of moral realism. In this day and age, it might be his most important book that I've read.
Other works in the realm of apologetics included: Scott and Kimberly Hahn's Rome Sweet Home, David B. Currie's Born Fundamentalist, Born Again Catholic (probably my favorite apologetic work, actually), and Karl Keating's Catholicism and Fundamentialism. Additionally, I started listening to audio works by Catholic converts, especially Scott Hahn. That former anti-Catholic fundamentalist Protestant preacher turned Catholic Bible Scholar has done more to help cradle Catholics in the English speaking world more than almost anyone else. His lectures on "The Fourth Cup" were a positive, biblical, and enthralling exposition of the Mystery of the Eucharist that opened my eyes to the deep roots in Judaism. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever heard. (I need to listen to it again!) Similarly, his audio bible study on the Gospel of John is phenomenal. There are any others of his talks that I can't even begin to remember them all. Fr. Bill Casey of the Fathers of Mercy had some great ones for those already Catholic: he really knows how to invigorate other Catholics in the faith. (He may be hard for those only beginning to think about Catholicism, though.)
Of course, like many Cradle Catholics, my default favorite theologian was St. Thomas Aquinas. That was true before I ever really read anything he wrote, simply because one always heard that he was the epitome of Catholic thought and raw intellectual ability. There's a great case to be made for that. But I can't pretend it was due to my actual study of Aquinas that I felt that way. It was more in the milieu. However, the general thrust of his work, the rigorousness with which he explicated his opponent's positions as honestly as he could before refuting them and presenting his own position (a staple of the Scholasticism of his day and not unique to him, per se) was something to behold, even if only from a bird's eye view. What also struck me was the story of how after he had written some of the most erudite, scholarly, and well argued theological texts in the entire history of theology, he was granted a mystical experience of being told by Christ Himself "You have spoken well of me!" only to then be given a glimpse of heavenly glory, which led him to proclaim that all his theological works were as mere straw in comparison to the glory of the reality. That says more about the all-surpassing greatness of God and of blessedness than it does about the weaknesses of Aquinas's theology. That has stuck with me, and I think we would all do well to realize that when we speak, read, discuss, even argue and debate these matters, that we ought never to get puffed up and arrogant enough to think that we've mastered it all. Arguably the greatest theologian who ever lived had to admit that the reality far surpasses even his most learned and intelligent descriptions thereof.
Thus, we can now add to the list of intellectual honesty/rigor and prayer, the virtue that prevents all other virtues from become vice (pride): humility.
In the next post, I will delve into how I wound up majoring in Theology after first studying the sciences, which I am still greatly interested in and always have been. Then we can get more into the academic influences to my thought that entered once I began to study theology more formally.
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