On the eve of the third millennium, Pope St. John Paul II promulgated his Encyclical Letter Fides et ratio in order to reflect “on the theme of truth itself and on its foundation in relation to faith” (no. 6, emphasis original). Addressed to the Bishops, who “share the mission of ‘proclaiming the truth openly’ (2 Cor 4:2),”{1}, as well as to theologians and philosophers, and “all those who are searching,” the encyclical is widely considered the most important writing of John Paul II’s legacy.

Our purpose in the following pages is simply to come to know this magisterial document and to learn from it; to listen to the Philosopher-Pope-Saint; and to try to understand his purpose, insights, concerns, and wisdom. The Holy Father’s line of reasoning will be followed, chapter by chapter, with an effort toward simplicity and clear presentation of the key points. The numbers of the sections being considered or quoted are given in parentheses.

Pope St. John Paul II tells us that we are all seekers of the truth. May he guide us in the study of this document. With him, we offer this endeavor to our Lady, Seat of Wisdom, whose life, the Pontiff says, is a “true parable illuminating the reflection contained in these pages” (no. 108). May she enlighten our reflection upon it as well.

Introduction: “Know Yourself” (1–6)

Faith and reason are like two wings on which the human spirit rises to the contemplation of truth; and God has placed in the human heart a desire to know the truth—in a word, to know himself—so that, by knowing and loving God, men and women may also come to the fullness of truth about themselves. (cf. Ex 33:18; Ps 27:8–9; 63:2–3; Jn 14:8; 1 Jn 3:2)

The opening passage of John Paul II’s letter asserts that God has placed the longing to “know the truth” within the human heart. It is this knowledge which will ultimately set men free (Jn 8:32). To know truth, says St. John Paul II, is to know God, and knowledge of God leads to knowledge of oneself and of the answers to the questions which lie deep within every man and woman.

As pontiff and philosopher (see the bibliography for his major philosophical works), John Paul II always turned to these questions (see, e.g., John Paul II’s Encyclical Letters Dives in Misericordia, no. 10, and Veritatis splendor, no. 2), as he himself explained:

This is a theme which I have long pursued and which I have addressed on a number of occasions. “What is man and of what use is he? What is good in him and what is evil?” (Sir 18:8) . . . These are questions in every human heart, as the poetic genius of every time and every people has shown, posing again and again—almost as the prophetic voice of humanity—the serious question which makes human beings truly what they are. (Fides et ratio, note 28, citing General Audience, Oct. 19, 1983)

Note that John Paul II is saying that the question itself is what “makes human beings truly what they are.” The questions themselves, he says, are “the highest expression of human nature” (General Audience, 10/19/83, cited in Fides et ratio, 28). The human person is defined as “one who seeks the truth” (no. 28). Philosophy, whose particular task is to ask these questions and to seek their answer, is therefore “one of the noblest of human tasks” (no. 3).

John Paul II presents two steps of the philosophical process (no. 4). The first step is wonder aroused by the contemplation of the “book of nature” (nos. 4, 19), which draws man into the journey of discovery of himself and of the world around him. The second step is speculation, which requires a “rigorous” and systematic method of thought, pursuing “universal elements of knowledge.” Through speculation, man discerns “first universal principles of being” and “fundamental truths about human life.” The Holy Father lists the principles of non-contradiction, finality, causality, universal moral norms, and “the concept of the person as a free and intelligent subject” (as one who has the capacity for knowledge of the truth). He sees the fruits of speculation as a “spiritual heritage of humanity” which provides a “core of philosophical insight within the history of thought as a whole” (no. 4).

Though different schools of thought derived from different times and cultures exist within philosophy, each strain is obligated to “recognize the primacy of philosophical enquiry from which it stems and which it ought to loyally serve” (no. 4). In other words, the questions must remain primary, yet open to new consideration. That is, no philosophical system has all the answers. No one system has “the complete reading of all reality.” John Paul II warns against “philosophical pride.” Two points are key here: first, the importance of the question (the inquiry itself) and of philosophy’s having the humility to see its own limitations of vision; second, the focus on reality: the speculative dimension finds its base in the dimension of wonder at the whole reality in which man finds himself (no. 4).

Regrettably, modern philosophy has turned its focus to man, and, in doing so, has become myopic in its consideration of human subjectivity and knowledge. This has resulted in an abandonment of the search for a universal and transcendent truth, a “lack of confidence” in truth itself, and a “widespread distrust of the human being’s great capacity for knowledge” (no. 5). John Paul II challenges current perspectives “in which the ephemeral is affirmed as a value and the possibility of discovering the real meaning of life is cast into doubt” (no. 6).

The Pontiff calls upon bishops, theologians and philosophers to fulfill their duty of “‘proclaiming the truth openly’ (2 Cor 4:2),” being “witnesses of divine and Catholic truth.” Thus the Holy Father underscores his purpose in writing this encyclical: to consider truth itself in its relation to the faith. By addressing this theme, Pope St. John Paul II hopes to foster two most significant and far-reaching outcomes: the restoration of trust in the human person’s capacity to know, and the restoration of philosophy’s “own full dignity” (no. 6).

Chapter I: The Revelation of God’s Wisdom (7–15)

From the beginning of his encyclical, John Paul II sets the goal for humanity’s quest: the truth towards which man is driven and which transcends him. The Church, the Pope proclaims, has already “received the gift of the ultimate truth about human life” (no. 2). The truth of man which philosophy seeks is to be found in its fullness only in “the mystery of Jesus of Nazareth” (no. 11). Because of this, the Church is called to a diakonia of the truth (nos. 2, 48). This ministry entails a twofold responsibility: to be a “partner” to humanity in its search for truth and to announce the truth as it has been revealed to us in Jesus Christ, who is “the way, the truth, and the life” (Jn 14:6, cited in Fides et ratio, no. 2).

In Christ is found the complete revelation of God, who is Truth. Hence, the truth which man is seeking cannot be attained by human reason alone or by drawing on human experience. Having its “origin in God Himself,” this knowledge must be received as a gift. But how can man know a truth which is beyond his reason’s grasp? Pope John Paul II answers that there is a kind of knowing

which is peculiar to faith, surpassing the knowledge proper to human reason, which nevertheless by its nature can discover the Creator. This knowledge expresses a truth based upon the very fact of God who reveals himself, a truth which is most certain, since God neither deceives nor wishes to deceive. (no. 8)

The Holy Father is here paraphrasing the teachings of the First Vatican Council. In its Dogmatic Constitution on the Catholic Faith Dei Filius, the Council taught that there are two ways of knowing: the one by natural reason and the other by faith in a God Who makes Himself known. John Paul II cites the Vatican I Fathers:

There exists a twofold order of knowledge, distinct not only as regards their source, but also as regards their object. With regard to the source, because we know in one by natural reason, in the other by divine faith. With regard to the object, because besides those things which natural reason can attain, there are proposed for our belief mysteries hidden in God which, unless they are divinely revealed, cannot be known. (Dei Filius, Ch. 4)

Beyond our human reason, there is a source of knowledge which can grasp what our reason cannot reach on its own. That source is faith; its object is divine Revelation. Though the Fathers of Vatican I affirmed reason’s capacity to recognize the existence of God and to discern “his invisible nature” by observing His creation, Dei Filius declares that what is known in faith “utterly surpasses the understanding of the human mind” (Dei Filius, Ch. 2.1 and 3). God has chosen to reveal Himself to man and has provided the means by which man may come to know the very “mysteries hidden in God” (Dei Filius, Ch. 4.3). John Paul II underscores the freedom of the Father’s gift and its power:

This initiative is utterly gratuitous, moving from God to men and women in order to bring them to salvation. As the source of love, God desires to make himself known; and the knowledge which the human being has of God perfects all that the human mind can know of the meaning of life. (no. 7)

The path and the means of the seeker of truth who is man is twofold: faith and reason. John Paul II explains that “faith is of an order other than philosophical knowledge which depends upon sense perception and experience and which advances by the light of the intellect alone” (no. 9).

The First Vatican Council was engaged in a battle against rationalism, which denied the existence of any knowledge beyond natural human reason’s grasp. In response, the Council Fathers insisted that what is known in faith is “incapable of being known” by human reason unless revealed by God (Dei Filius, Chapter 4.3).

Whereas the Vatican I Fathers “stressed the supernatural character of God’s Revelation” (no. 8), the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council stressed that God’s Revelation is “immersed in time and history” (no. 11). In Jesus Christ, “the Eternal enters time.” History itself is the “arena” in which God reveals Himself to man (no. 12). The Incarnate Son of God, Jesus Christ, perfects and fulfills Revelation by everything He says and does: “through his whole work of making himself present and manifesting himself: through his words and deeds, his signs and wonders, but especially through his death and glorious Resurrection from the dead and finally his sending of the Spirit of truth” (Vatican II, Dei Verbum, no. 4, cited in Fides et ratio, no. 11).

The Incarnate Son of God, Jesus Christ, “in his entire person reveals the Father” (no. 34, cf. Jn 1:14, 18). At the same time, as Son of Man, He reveals to each and every human person his or her own “most high calling,” which John Paul II describes as a vocation “to share in the divine mystery of the life of the Trinity” (no. 13). Here the Pope echoes the words and message of Vatican II’s Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World Gaudium et Spes:

The truth is that only in the mystery of the incarnate Word does the mystery of man take on light. For Adam, the first man, was a figure of Him Who was to come, namely Christ the Lord. Christ, the final Adam, by the revelation of the mystery of the Father and His love, fully reveals man to man himself and makes his supreme calling clear. (Gaudium et Spes, no. 22)

Throughout his pontificate, John Paul II announced this message again and again: the truth of Jesus Christ “enables all men and women to embrace the ‘mystery’ of their own life,” and thus to find the answer to the questions deep within their hearts (no. 15).

Faith is an act of “assent” to God as the One who knows the Truth—the Truth which human reason cannot by itself attain. Faith is an act of trust in Truth Himself. “The obedience of faith must be given to God who reveals himself.” John Paul II returns to this teaching of the Second Vatican Council (Dei Verbum, no. 5), which repeats and renews the teaching of Vatican I (Dei Filius, Ch. 4). To obey in faith is to “acknowledge fully and integrally the truth of what is revealed because it is God himself who is the guarantor of that truth” (Fides et ratio, no. 13).

On the part of man, faith begins with “the act of entrusting oneself to God” (no. 13). The obedience of faith is a fully human act, a choice which requires the full exercise of human freedom. “[T]he intellect and the will display their spiritual nature, enabling the subject to act in a way which realizes personal freedom to the full” (no. 14). It is only in the act of faith that “freedom reaches the certainty of truth and chooses to live in that truth” (no. 13). The certainty of faith is not the fruit of reason but comes to us as a gift (no. 15). Reason is “summoned” by Revelation: John Paul II says that the gift of Revelation “urges reason to be open to it and to embrace its profound meaning” (no. 13). Hence, God’s act of revealing Himself does not leave reason inactive:

Revelation has set within history a point of reference which cannot be ignored if the mystery of human life is to be known. Yet this knowledge refers back constantly to the mystery of God which the human mind cannot exhaust but can only receive and embrace in faith. Between these two poles, reason has its own specific field in which it can enquire and understand, restricted only by its finiteness before the infinite mystery of God (no. 14).

The Holy Father refers to “signs” which Revelation offers “to assist reason in its effort to understand the mystery,” by allowing an approach to mystery “by use of reason’s own methods” (no. 13). These signs are classically discussed as “motives of credibility” because they provide reason with “external indications” as “motives” for belief. As Vatican I’s Dei Filius explains:

In order that the submission of our faith should be in accordance with reason, it was God’s will that there should be linked to the internal assistance of the Holy Spirit external indications of his revelation, that is to say divine acts, and first and foremost miracles and prophecies, which clearly demonstrating as they do the omnipotence and infinite knowledge of God, are the most certain signs of revelation and are suited to the understanding of all. (<em>DF</em> ch. 3)

John Paul II emphasizes the depth of meaning within the sign itself, to which reason must reach if it is to attain the sign’s “hidden truth.” Here the Holy Father perceives the “sacramental character of Revelation” (no. 13). The sacramental mystery “impels” reason to reach beyond the confines of its own knowledge to a transcendent knowledge which only faith can supply in order to understand the revealed truth which confronts it (no. 14). The highest expression of this sacramental character is manifest in the Eucharist, “in which the indissoluble unity of signifier and signified makes it possible to grasp the depths of the mystery” (no. 13).

Chapter II: Credo Ut Intellegam (16–23)

The title of the second chapter comes from St. Anselm: “For I do not seek to understand that I may believe, but I believe in order to understand” (Proslogion, I). In this chapter, John Paul II considers the relation between faith’s knowledge and reason’s knowledge as seen in the Sacred Scriptures. The Pontiff finds the clearest consideration of this relationship in the Wisdom Literature, which, he says, draws on and expresses the “treasury of cultures” of the ancient Near East. John Paul II discovers in these texts “the conviction that there is a profound and indissoluble unity” between the two ways of knowing (no. 16). The wise man is “one who loves and seeks the truth” (no. 16; see Sir 14:20–27). What reason grasps in its “autonomy” and “scope” is set within the broader understanding of God’s action in relation to the world and mankind. To divide the knowledge of reason from faith’s vision is to reduce “the capacity of men and women to know themselves, the world, and God in an appropriate way” (no. 16).

The Old Testament presents reason as “able to open the path that leads to the mystery.” But this openness must abide by certain “rules”: reason must never rest; it must approach in humility and with the “fear of God,” whose “transcendent sovereignty” reason must respect. Only thus will reason be “true to itself” (no. 18).

The Book of Wisdom affirms the human person’s capacity to “philosophize.” Wisdom observes that man can “know the structure of the world and the activity of the elements . . . the cycles of the year and the constellations of the stars, the natures of animals and the tempers of wild beasts (Wis 7:17, 19–20),” and, further, that by this knowledge of creation, he or she can “rise to God,” arriving at the knowledge of a Creator (no. 19). Old Testament man and woman knew themselves as “beings in relation.” They understood that true knowledge was only possible in relation to God, who is Himself its source (no. 21).

Turning to the New Testament, John Paul II focuses on the Letters of St. Paul. Romans 1:20 affirms again that man, through his encounter with the natural world, can attain knowledge of God, “the origin of all perceptible reality.” John Paul II discerns in Romans a confirmation of “the human capacity for metaphysical enquiry” (no. 22). Reason’s ability is “restricted only by its finiteness before the infinite mystery of God” (no. 14). From the beginning, the Creator had gifted man with “an intuition of his ‘power’ and ‘divinity’ (cf. Rom 1:20)”—a capacity of human reason to reach beyond, to discern the presence of the Creator as the source and origin of all that is (no. 22).

But with the sin of original disobedience, “reason became more and more a prisoner to itself.” Because of sin, human reason became “wounded,” “distorted,” and “inclined to falsehood,” its capacity for true knowledge now “impaired by an aversion to the One who is the source and origin of truth” (no. 22). Hence, in his First Letter to the Corinthians, Paul teaches about the opposition between “the wisdom of this world” and the “wisdom of God,” which Jesus has revealed to us as the wisdom of the Cross (1 Cor 1:20–25, 3:19). John Paul II echoes St. Paul:

The crucified Son of God is the historic event upon which every attempt of the mind to construct an adequate explanation of the meaning of existence upon merely human argumentation comes to grief. The true key-point, which challenges every philosophy, is Jesus Christs death on the Cross. (no. 23)

On reason’s own terms, the self-sacrifice of Christ on the Cross seems to be “foolishness,” “folly,” and “a stumbling block.” Yet John Paul II once again affirms the human person’s “ceaselessly self-transcendent orientation towards the truth.” Human reason seeks the truth, which summons it; only the Cross of Christ can “give to reason the ultimate answer which it seeks.” The truth of the Cross is “the reef upon which the link between faith and philosophy can break up, but it is also the reef beyond which the two can set forth upon the boundless ocean of truth.” With the help of faith—and only with faith’s help—reason can be open to the truth of the Cross, which is “not only the border between reason and faith, but also the space where the two may meet” (no. 23).

Chapter III: Intellego Ut Credam (24–34)

“I understand so that I may believe”: The title of the third chapter takes the complementary approach to the previous one: reason’s quest for knowledge is seen as a path toward God. Here again John Paul II turns to St. Paul—this time to his address to the philosophers of Athens, recorded in the Acts of the Apostles. To those who would worship “an unknown God,” Paul proclaimed the God who “made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth,” who made men and arranged all things such that they might “search for God and perhaps grope for him and find him—though indeed he is not far from each one of us” (Acts 17:23–24, 27). John Paul II underscores Paul’s message: “in the far reaches of the human heart there is a seed of desire and nostalgia for God.” The Holy Father emphasizes the choice that human persons are called to make: the choice to seek the truth “even at levels which transcend the person”—to risk to reach beyond “what is contingent and set out towards the infinite” (no. 24 and 25).

John Paul II cites Aristotle: “All human beings desire to know” (Metaphysics, I, 1). The Pontiff immediately adds, “and truth is the proper object of this desire” (no. 25). The human person looks for the truth in every aspect of his life, including the practical, wanting to know the “real truth of what he perceives.” This can be seen in science particularly but also in the choices each person makes regarding his or her own actions (i.e., how to direct one’s life and according to what values). The Holy Father affirms: “It is essential, therefore, that the values chosen and pursued in one’s life be true, because only true values can lead people to realize themselves fully, allowing them to be true to their nature” (no. 25). Though the deep longing for the ultimate truth is expressed in all aspects of human endeavor, philosophy has the particular task to articulate this “intimate” and yet “universal” desire (no. 24).

Every human person encounters the key questions of the meaning of life, of human suffering, and of the inevitable reality of death (no. 26). The universality of these questions leads the search for a truth that is also universal: “[I]f something is true, then it must be true for all people and at all times.” Moreover, the human person is looking for something beyond what is simply universally true: The human longing is for the “absolute,” for a “final explanation, a supreme value, which refers to nothing beyond itself and which puts an end to all questioning” (no. 27).

Indeed, John Paul II insists: “The thirst for truth is so rooted in the human heart that to be obliged to ignore it would cast our existence into jeopardy” (no. 29). Every man and woman must act as a philosopher of sorts, sketching out the basic values which guide their lives, aligned with the truth as they have come to understand it, and setting themselves on a course of life based in that understanding (no. 30). But, in fact, the human heart is weak and the human intellect subject to all kinds of misunderstandings which can undermine the search for truth and even cause people to “run from the truth as soon as they glimpse it because they are afraid of its demands” (no. 28). At all levels of human knowing—experiential, philosophical, religious—the human person strives to find the answers which, deep down, he or she believes must be there, in spite of the many doubts and anxieties which constantly threaten this certainty. The seeker must find a path through the multitude of answers which offer themselves at every moment.

Here the Holy Father makes a simple yet profound observation: “Human beings are not made to live alone” (no. 31). John Paul II affirms the act of entrustment which is inherent in the human act of knowing at all levels (no. 30). Human knowledge relies on trust or belief in another knower who has preceded us, as the Holy Father elaborates:

Who, for instance, could assess critically the countless scientific findings upon which modern life is based? Who could personally examine the flow of information which comes day after day from all parts of the world and which is generally accepted as true? Who in the end could forge anew the paths of experience and thought which have yielded the treasures of human wisdom and religion? This means that the human being—the one who seeks the truth—is also the one who lives by belief. (no. 31)

What does it mean to live “by belief”? The Latin text used here is alteri fidens, which indicates much more than belief in a theory or a declaration. The phrase means to trust in or rely on another. In the English translation, the “other” is not mentioned; a fuller translation might say the human being is one “who lives by trusting another” (Schmitz, 604). In our daily lives we rely on myriad acts of knowing which have been made by others before us, outside of our scope and consideration.

John Paul II recognizes the “tension” between knowledge based on evidence and knowledge based on entrustment and belief in another (no. 32). The latter, he asserts, is “humanly richer,” based, not upon the empirical, but upon a knowledge of the “truth of the person—what the person is and what the person reveals from deep within.” Human knowledge of the truth is sought in “a dynamic relationship of self-giving,” originating in an act of trust in the other, and in “the truth which the other declares to them” (no. 32). Human reason itself “needs to be sustained in all its searching by trusting dialogue and sincere friendship.” The act of personal freedom required for such an entrustment of oneself to another is extolled by John Paul II as “among the most significant and expressive human acts” (no. 33).

The martyrs are the supreme example of such an act of trust. They are “authentic witnesses to the truth” which they have discovered in their encounter with Jesus Christ—the truth which neither suffering nor death itself will force them to deny (no. 32). John Paul II seems to be making quite a leap here—from the mention of the trust required by scientific findings to the trust exemplified by the martyrs! But it is here that he says we have come to the “terms of the question” (no. 33). Man is a seeker of the truth. The fullness of truth which he seeks is not found on the level of experience or science, nor is it found in the values by which he chooses to direct his actions. The human person’s search for truth cannot find its fulfillment in empirical truths or even moral truths, but it “can reach its end only in reaching the absolute.” Here the knowledge of reason must meet the knowledge of faith. Only a reason which can risk to entrust itself in the act of faith can lead to the fulfillment of the human heart’s longing (no. 33).

Truth is one: “The unity of truth is a fundamental premise of human reasoning, as the principle of non-contradiction makes clear.” Faith and reason are one in the unity of truth, “natural and revealed” (no. 34). The one God who has created all things in the natural world wants to “make himself known” (no. 7). In Jesus Christ is found the fullness of the revelation of God who is Truth. The Holy Father proclaims:

What human reason seeks “without knowing it” (cf. Acts 17:23) can be found only through Christ: what is revealed in him is “the full truth” (cf. Jn 1:14-16) of everything which was created in him and through him and which therefore in him finds its fulfilment (no. 34). 

Chapter IV: The Relationship between Faith and Reason (36–48)

From her beginning, the Church has addressed the problem of philosophy’s relationship to faith in terms of both its positive contributions and its negative limitations (no. 41). In the fourth chapter, John Paul II briefly surveys key moments of the Church’s philosophical engagement.

Once again citing St. Paul’s encounter with the Epicurean and Stoic philosophers of Athens, John Paul II highlights Paul’s use of philosophical understandings, such as the natural knowledge of God and the universality of the human conscience (no. 36, citing Rom 1:19–21; 2:14–15; Acts 14:16–17). These philosophical concepts provided Paul with a bridge to a dialogue which opened the way to proclamation of the faith. The Pope reminds us of the caution with which those early encounters took place, citing Paul: “See to it that no-one takes you captive through philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the universe and not according to Christ” (Col 2:8). These words still find their mark: The Holy Father points to “various kinds of esoteric superstition widespread today” (no. 37).

The Pontiff recognizes the “positive engagement” of the apologists St. Justin Martyr and St. Clement of Alexandria with the philosophical thinking of their time, acknowledging as well their “cautious discernment” (no. 38). St. Irenaeus and Tertullian, on the other hand, are to be remembered for their arguments against philosophy’s attempts to “subordinate” the truths of the faith (no. 37). John Paul II also calls attention to Origen’s “outstanding” role in integrating elements of Platonic philosophy to elucidate the faith (no. 39), as well as the Cappadocian Fathers and Dionysius the Areopagite, who followed in the task of “Christianizing” Platonic and Neo-Platonic thought (no. 40). St. Augustine, who, prior to his conversion, had himself been involved with different schools of philosophy, receives John Paul II’s particular acclaim:

The Bishop of Hippo succeeded in producing the first great synthesis of philosophy and theology, embracing currents of thought both Greek and Latin. In him too the great unity of knowledge, grounded in the thought of the Bible, was both confirmed and sustained by a depth of speculative thinking. (no. 40)

John Paul II makes a remarkable observation: The early Church Fathers “succeeded in disclosing completely all that remained implicit and preliminary in the thinking of the great philosophers of antiquity” (no. 41). In other words, philosophical thought found its own fulfillment and its own explication in its encounter with faith through its encounter with the thought and living witness of the early Church Fathers. As John Paul II explains:

Theirs was the task of showing how reason, freed from external constraints, could find its way out of the blind alley of myth and open itself to the transcendent in a more appropriate way. Purified and rightly tuned, therefore, reason could rise to the higher planes of thought, providing a solid foundation for the perception of being, of the transcendent and of the absolute. (no. 41)

John Paul II commends the Fathers’ courage in acknowledging elements in the philosophies of their time as “consonant with Revelation.” This is not to say that the Fathers blessed all that philosophy held and presented. John Paul II states clearly: “Recognition of the points of convergence did not blind them to the points of divergence” (no. 41). Only a philosophy which is “open to the absolute” is capable of attaining the fullness of truth. John Paul II goes further to say that the Fathers understood that human reason, through its encounter with the knowledge of faith, may even “surpass” its own conscious goal and arrive at “the supreme good and ultimate truth in the person of the Word made flesh” (no. 41).

Regarding the Scholastic period, John Paul II focuses on St. Anselm and St. Thomas Aquinas. Anselm grasped the particular task of philosophy in relation to faith: “to find meaning, to discover explanations which might allow everyone to come to a certain understanding of the contents of faith” (no. 42). On the one hand, according to Anselm, “the intellect must seek that which it loves: the more it loves, the more it desires to know” (no. 42). On the other hand, he asks: “Is there anything so incomprehensible and ineffable as that which is above all things?” (Anselm, Monologion, 64: PL 158, 210, cited in Fides et ratio, no. 42). The intellect’s love of truth “spurs” it to reach beyond its natural limitations, “and at the summit of its searching reason acknowledges that it cannot do without what faith presents” (no. 42).

Considering the contribution of St. Thomas Aquinas, John Paul II lauds the “enduring originality” of the “master of thought,” reconfirming the title given to the Angelic Doctor by St. Pope Paul VI: “Apostle of the Truth” (no. 44). The Holy Father first highlights Thomas’ encounter with Arab and Jewish thought. But most important to John Paul II is the Angelic Doctor’s recognition of the harmonious relationship between faith and reason: “Both the light of faith and the light of reason come from God, he argued, hence there can be no contradiction between them” (no. 44, citing SCG, bk. 1, ch. 7). In St. Thomas’ understanding, “[j]ust as grace builds on nature and brings it to fulfilment, so faith builds upon and perfects reason” (no. 43, citing ST I, q. 1, 8, ad 2).

Conversely, Thomas recognizes the role of nature, “philosophy’s proper concern,” in approaching the understanding of the divine (Fides et ratio, no. 43). John Paul II highlights St. Thomas’ view of knowledge as an encounter with reality: “Thomas could recognize the objectivity of truth and produce not merely a philosophy of ‘what seems to be’ but a philosophy of ‘what is.’” In philosophical wisdom, reason “explores reality.” In theological wisdom, reason receives the truths of faith through revelation, “entering the very mystery of God” (no. 44).

For Thomas, all truth flows from the living font of the Holy Spirit, as he explains: “Any truth that is uttered by anyone is from the Holy Spirit in the sense that it is from the one who pours the natural light [into the intellective soul] and moves a man to have intellectual understanding and to speak the truth” (ST I–II, q. 109, 1 ad 1, Freddoso translation). But Thomas teaches that the highest form of knowledge is the Holy Spirit’s gift of wisdom—an infused gift, distinct from the acquired virtue of wisdom—which “opens the way to a knowledge of divine realities” (no. 44), thus making possible “judgment according to divine truth,” (ST II–II, q. 45, 1 ad 2; and q. 45, 2, in Fides et ratio, no. 44).

The Holy Father recognizes the Patristic and Medieval thinkers for the “profound unity” of their thought, “producing knowledge capable of reaching the highest forms of speculation” (no. 45). However, John Paul II decries a “fateful separation” which ensued in the later Middle Ages, in which philosophy declared its independence from the knowledge of faith and developed an “ever deeper mistrust with regard to reason itself.” Since then, philosophy has increasingly distanced itself from Revelation, turning in opposition against the knowledge of faith and positing a “rational knowledge sundered from faith and meant to take the place of faith” (no. 45).

Much of modern philosophy has set itself “quite explicitly in opposition” to revealed truth. Included under this heading are forms of idealism which saw the contents of faith as “dialectic structures which could be grasped by reason,” and, on the opposite side, forms of atheistic humanism which, viewing faith as alienation, sought to replace religion and led to the development of “totalitarian systems which have been disastrous for humanity” (no. 46). Science too has rejected any metaphysical basis and resorted to a positivistic approach, which results in a loss of its ethical foundation and the sense of the dignity of the human person that goes with it. Science then resorts to a “market-based logic” or a drive to a “quasi-divine power over nature.” The Holy Father also points to nihilism, a philosophy of nothingness, which rejects all values and meaning of life. John Paul II sees the nihilistic attitude as “widespread” in our time, and demeaning any sense of hope or commitment due to the belief that all is “fleeting and provisional” (no. 46). The philosopher’s role as “lover of wisdom” and “seeker of truth” has been all but abandoned; the search for the deepest meaning of life has been replaced by a search for “subjective certainty” or “utilitarian ends.” Reason itself seems to be “no longer equipped to know the truth and to seek the absolute” (no. 47).

The effects of this rupture of the unity between faith and reason are twofold. On the one hand, the loss of the relation to faith deprives philosophical knowledge of its dimension of wisdom, turning it away from “what is” in reality and truth, and turning it into an “instrumental reason” based in a search for power or pleasure. On the other hand, faith itself, without the support of philosophy, is threatened by “weak reasoning,” and succumbs to the direction of “feeling and experience,” facing “the grave risk of withering into myth or superstition” (no. 48).

Assessing this sad state of affairs, John Paul II issues a “strong but insistent appeal” for the recovery and reaffirmation of the “profound unity” of faith and philosophy. Only in this mutuality can faith and reason each manifest their full, autonomous stature and dignity (no. 48).

Chapter V: The Magisterium’s Interventions in Philosophical Matters (49–63)

The Holy Father begins the fifth chapter by emphasizing philosophy’s autonomy. Philosophy must follow its own principles and methods in freedom if it is to be able to “arrive at truth.” The Church does not claim any philosophy as her own, nor does she seek to control its content—a task which would be outside of her Magisterial “competence” (no. 49).

However, the Church has a Magisterial obligation to “authoritatively exercise a critical discernment of opinions and philosophies which contradict Christian doctrine.” This “humble but tenacious ministry of service” must include assessing the fundamental tenets and conclusions of philosophical systems and schools, as well as judging particular elements within a particular philosophy for their compatibility with the faith (no. 50).

Faith makes “demands” on philosophy. Fides et ratio speaks in several places of the demands which Revelation itself makes on human reason (see nos. 43, 49, 50, 59, 77, 85). If philosophy is to be true to its mission of “recta ratio, or of reason reflecting rightly upon what is true,” it must respect the requirements of faith (no. 50). The Magisterium of the Church has the obligation to “discern in specific philosophical claims what is valid and fruitful from faith’s point of view and what is mistaken or dangerous” (no. 51).

Yet John Paul II is insistent that this Magisterial task is not a simply negative one. Even in her interventions, the Church intends to “encourage” and “stimulate” philosophical enquiry and discourse. He also asserts that philosophers are “the first to understand the need for self-criticism” and correction of their errors. Once again, the Philosopher-Pope calls upon his own to remember the limitations of their perspective, and to be aware of the “unity of truth” and the consequent call to philosophy’s own self-transcendence, achieved by reaching toward and being open to transcendent truth (no. 51).

The Pope then offers a survey of Magisterial interventions (no. 52), glancing briefly at those issued before the nineteenth century and focusing on philosophical developments from the mid-nineteenth century through the twentieth century. The reactions of Catholic philosophers to various philosophies which emerged during that time were themselves in need of surveillance and correction. Magisterial interventions addressed, on the one side, the tendency towards fideism and radical traditionalism for their “distrust of reason’s natural capacities,” and on the other side, those of rationalism and ontologism, “because they attributed to natural reason a knowledge which only the light of faith could confer” (no. 52). John Paul II summarizes the necessary arguments against both sides:

Against all forms of rationalism, then, there was a need to affirm the distinction between the mysteries of faith and the findings of philosophy, and the transcendence and precedence of the mysteries of faith over the findings of philosophy. Against the temptations of fideism, however, it was necessary to stress the unity of truth and thus the positive contribution which rational knowledge can and must make to faith’s knowledge. (no. 53)

The First Vatican Council answered these concerns in its teachings on faith and reason in the Dogmatic Constitution Dei Filius. John Paul II affirms this document as “a standard reference point for correct and coherent Christian thinking in this regard” (no. 52). The Vatican I Fathers clearly distinguished “two orders of knowledge, distinct not only in their point of departure, but in their object” (Dei Filius, IV). At the same time, the Council affirmed the inseparability of these two forms of knowledge, both of which are gifts of God. As Dei Filius proclaims:

Even if faith is superior to reason there can never be a true divergence between faith and reason, since the same God who reveals the mysteries and bestows the gift of faith has also placed in the human spirit the light of reason. This God could not deny himself, nor could the truth ever contradict the truth. (<em>Dei Filius</em>, IV, cited in Fides et ratio, no. 53)

Early in the twentieth century, in his Encyclical Letter Pascendi Dominici Gregis (1907), Pope Pius X faced the challenge of Modernism and its philosophical underpinnings, which John Paul II lists as “phenomenist, agnostic, and immanentist.” Pope Pius XI countered the threat of Marxism and atheistic Communism in his Encyclical Letter Divini Redemptoris (1937). Pope Pius XII addressed the errors of evolutionism, existentialism, and historicism in his Encyclical Letter Humani Generis (1950), urging Catholic theologians and philosophers to “come to understand these theories well” in order to “provoke a more discriminating discussion and evaluation of philosophical and theological truths” (Humani Generis, no. 9, cited in Fides et ratio, no. 54). The last reference in John Paul II’s survey of interventions is the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith’s “Instruction on Certain Aspects of the ‘Theology of Liberation’ Libertatis Nuntius” (1984), which warned theologians against the “uncritical adoption” of Marxist tenets (no. 54).

John Paul II declares in this 1998 encyclical that the “problems of other times have returned, but in a new key” (no. 55). What was previously limited to certain individual philosophical positions has become “widespread” and “common.” The Pope focuses on two particular problems: “the deep-seated distrust of reason” and the dismissal of metaphysics as a legitimate area of philosophy. Theology too is at risk, on the one hand in its tendencies toward rationalism (under the sway of “current parlance and culture”), and, on the other hand, in its leaning toward fideism and biblicism (no. 55). Indeed, we must consider in our current times what philosophical and theological issues are persistent or emergent and which ones might be considered “mistaken or dangerous” (no. 51) and therefore require the Church’s guidance and redirection.

Besides corrections and censures where error occurs, the Magisterium’s service includes fostering the renewal of philosophy. John Paul II gives particular attention to Pope Leo XIII’s Encyclical Letter On the Restoration of Christian Philosophy Aeterni Patris (1879). Up until Fides et ratio itself, Aeterni Patris was the only document of this level of authority devoted entirely to philosophy. John Paul II emphasizes its perennial relevance (no. 57).

In Aeterni Patris, Leo XIII takes up and confirms the message of Vatican I regarding the relationship of faith and reason. But John Paul II gives particular emphasis to the importance of Leo XIII’s fervent endorsement of the philosophy of St. Thomas Aquinas as “a philosophy consonant with the demands of faith” (no. 57). John Paul II refers to Pope Leo’s call for a resurgence of Thomistic study as an “insistence” and a “summons,” as can certainly be seen in the following quote from Aeterni Patris:

We exhort you, venerable brethren, in all earnestness to restore the golden wisdom of St. Thomas, and to spread it far and wide for the defense and beauty of the Catholic faith, for the good of society, and for the advantage of all the sciences. (<em>AP</em> no. 31)

Pope Leo’s efforts proved fruitful in the establishment of new Thomistic schools, the new publication of St. Thomas’ works, and the renewed focus on Thomistic scholarship within Catholic education and formation as a whole. John Paul II goes so far as to say that “the most influential Catholic theologians” who helped to shape the thought of Vatican II, were “products” of this Thomist revival, as were a “powerful array of thinkers” up to the time of the promulgation of Fides et ratio at the end of the twentieth century (no. 58). In the next chapter, John Paul II will give particular mention to Jacques Maritain and Etienne Gilson, who might be considered as two within this “array” (no. 74).

However, the renewal of philosophy was not limited to Thomists.  John Paul II also recognizes the contribution of Catholic philosophers whose works, which engaged more recent philosophical approaches, were “of great influence and lasting value” (no. 59). Later on in the encyclical, the Holy Father acknowledges John Henry Newman, Antonio Rosmini, and Edith Stein, as well as Eastern Orthodox scholars Vladimir S. Soloviev, Pavel A. Florensky, Petr Chaadaev, and Vladimir N. Lossky, for their “courageous research” which evidenced the fruitful relationship “between philosophy and the word of God” (no. 74).

Next, John Paul II turns his attention to the Second Vatican Council’s engagement with philosophy (no. 60). Focusing first on the “rich and fruitful teaching” found in the Pastoral Constitution Gaudium et Spes, the Holy Father, who was himself a participant in the drafting of this document, highlights various key points of the document’s first chapter. These include what John Paul II calls a “virtual compendium of biblical anthropology” as well as teachings on the dignity of the human person, and on the “transcendental capacity of human reason.” For the third time in this encyclical, John Paul II quotes Gaudium et Spes, no. 22 (cited above), which the Pontiff sees as the climax of the chapter, recognizing it as “profoundly significant for philosophy” (no. 60, cf. no. 12). The Holy Father acknowledges that this passage is one of the “constant reference points” of his pontificate.

The second point that John Paul II underscores from Vatican II is its insistence on the study of philosophy as a requirement for the formation of seminarians (no. 60)—a stipulation that the Pope would also apply to “Christian education as a whole,” in particular to those in theological studies. John Paul II cites Vatican II’s Decree on Priestly Formation Optatam Totius:

The philosophical disciplines should be taught in such a way that students acquire in the first place a solid and harmonious knowledge of the human being, of the world and of God, based upon the philosophical heritage which is enduringly valid, yet taking into account currents of modern philosophy. (<em>OT</em> no. 15).

Though the Council’s mandate of philosophical training for candidates for the priesthood has been “reiterated and developed” many times, including by John Paul II himself (see Fides et ratio, note 84), these directives have had minimal response (no. 61). The Council’s call for theology’s engagement with science and for the study of cultures may be two possible sources of conflict which have contributed to a marginalization of philosophy in priestly formation. Yet, the Pope argues, these engagements in themselves depend upon a strong philosophical foundation, without which “serious gaps” occur in the formation of priests and of theologians (no. 62).

John Paul II restates his own sense of duty and the urgency of his purpose in writing this encyclical: “to state principles and criteria which in my judgement are necessary in order to restore a harmonious and creative relationship between theology and philosophy” (no. 63). Only thus will an adequate foundation for the encounter between theology and today’s philosophical proposals be ensured.

Chapter VI: The Interaction between Philosophy and Theology (64–79)

Having considered the demands which faith makes upon philosophy, the Pope now looks at theology’s dependence on philosophy for an adequate grasp and articulation of the faith. Theology needs philosophy. The Holy Father clearly states that “there are some specific tasks of theology which, by the very nature of the revealed word, demand recourse to philosophical enquiry” (no. 64).

John Paul II presents theology as a twofold endeavor, which includes the auditus fidei and the intellectus fidei (no. 65). These might be seen as analogous to philosophy’s two steps of wonder and speculation. The phrase auditus fidei (meaning, literally, “the hearing of the faith”) calls to mind St. Paul’s teaching in Romans 10:17: “So faith comes from hearing, and hearing by the word of Christ.” Auditus fidei is receptivity to the word of God—the hearing of, or perhaps better, the active listening to the word of God. It is theology’s openness to the truth as revealed by God: to all that has been given in Scripture, Tradition, and Magisterial teachings. (See Vatican II’s Dogmatic Constitution Dei Verbum, 10, on these three as “one sacred deposit,” which is “so linked and joined together that one cannot stand without the others.”) Hence, auditus fidei is theology’s receptive act, whereby theology “makes its own the content of Revelation” (no. 65).

To receive the word requires the capacity to hear and to understand correctly what is being said. Philosophy’s grasp of the ways of knowledge and communication can assist here. Furthermore, the content of the faith—including the teachings of Scripture, the Fathers, dogmatic pronouncements, and the Creed itself—is rich in philosophical terms and meanings which have been taken up from the beginning in the proclamation and explication of the Christian faith. Theology, therefore, relies on a philosophical understanding in order to fully engage its own sources.

The intellectus fidei is theology’s endeavor to understand and explain what it receives from Revelation, i.e., to make the word of God more accessible to believers by providing a “reflective and scientific elaboration of the understanding of God’s word in the light of faith” (no. 64). The role of philosophy in this work is extremely important, as theological understanding depends upon philosophical concepts—for example, the notion of nature and of person—as the Holy Father clearly explains:

Without philosophy’s contribution, it would in fact be impossible to discuss theological issues such as, for example, the use of language to speak about God, the personal relations within the Trinity, God’s creative activity in the world, the relationship between God and man, or Christ’s identity as true God and true man. (no. 66)

In each branch of theology, the “speculative inquiry” necessary to an adequate intellectus fidei depends upon the conceptual tools and methods of philosophy. The list of topics given in the quote above primarily belongs to the domain of dogmatic (systematic) theology (no. 66). Moral theology’s list includes, among others, the notions of natural law, freedom, and conscience (no. 68). As the Holy Father observes, the intellectus fidei depends upon an understanding of nature itself and of the human person, in order, by analogy, to explain the meaning of what is received from Revelation (no. 66, cf. no. 83, 84). Fundamental theology deals with some of the same concerns that Fides et ratio discusses: the relationship between faith and philosophical thought, the capacity to know the existence of God and His nature, etc. (no. 67).

John Paul II considers the recurring objection that theology should focus less on philosophical understanding and more on history and the social sciences. The Pope agrees that these fields have much to offer, but he holds firmly that theology needs, not an “array of human opinions,” but a grasp of universal principles. He explains, “What I wish to emphasize is the duty to go beyond the particular and concrete, lest the prime task of demonstrating the universality of faith’s content be abandoned” (no. 69).

Another objection raised relates to faith’s encounter with culture. The Pope urges theologians to explore the traditions of various cultures rather than to exclusively study philosophies of the West. John Paul II argues that philosophy is also necessary here in order to help discern what is of value within a particular culture in relation to universal truth (no. 69). As the Pontiff stated early in this encyclical, philosophy bears “the great responsibility of forming thought and culture.” Indeed, this is philosophy’s “original vocation” (no. 6).

We tend to think of culture as the artistic and linguistic expression of a society. This is certainly true. As Gaudium et Spes teaches, culture is “everything whereby man develops and perfects his many bodily and spiritual qualities; he strives by his knowledge and his labor, to bring the world itself under his control.” Therefore, the Council Fathers affirm that “man comes to a true and full humanity only through culture” (Gaudium et Spes no. 53).

John Paul II takes this thought further: “Different cultures are basically different ways of facing the question of the meaning of personal existence” (Encyclical Letter Centissimus Annus, no. 24). This is the basic question which resides in the deepest core of man: “the desire to discover the ultimate truth of existence” (Fides et ratio, no. 4)—a desire placed within the heart of man by God himself. Culture is the means by which man expresses this longing, as the Pontiff explains:

In different ways and at different times, men and women have shown that they can articulate this intimate desire of theirs. Through literature, music, painting, sculpture, architecture and every other work of their creative intelligence they have declared the urgency of their quest. (Fides et ratio, no. 24)

All true culture, the Pope teaches, is founded upon the human person’s inherent “openness to the universal and the transcendent” (Fides et ratio, no. 70). This openness is the root of the first of three criteria which John Paul II provides for the engagement between faith and a particular culture. “[T]he universality of the human spirit, whose basic needs are the same in the most disparate cultures” is a principle to be upheld and a beacon which should guide the work of evangelization of a culture (no. 72).

The second criterion is related to the Church’s first experience of cultural engagement: the encounter with Greek culture and philosophy which took place in the Church’s earliest days and continued in a particular way through the time of the early Church Fathers. The fruits of this dialogue must be revered as intended by God. Therefore, what has been handed down from this encounter must be sustained, both today and into the future, as John Paul II insists:

[T]he Church cannot abandon what she has gained from her inculturation in the world of Greco-Latin thought. To reject this heritage would be to deny the providential plan of God who guides his Church down the paths of time and history. (no. 72)

The third criterion cautions that the need to uphold and respect the particular expressions of any given culture should not be mistaken for a need to preserve that culture as closed unto itself, “opposing other traditions” as though the Gospel represented a threat to its originality and identity (Fides et ratio, no. 72). Cultures are “fed” by the encounter with the universality of truth, and they “flourish” in that encounter only “insofar as they remain open” to the newness that encounter offers to them (no. 71). The Gospel demands an obedience of faith, a trusting adherence to its truth, which is the “fullness of truth”—a truth not “confined to a particular place or culture” but which answers all the burning questions in the heart of the men and women of every culture (Fides et ratio, no. 12).

Vatican II considered the encounter between individual cultures and the truth of the Gospel in the Decree on the Missionary Activity of the Church Ad Gentes. The Council Fathers discerned “a sort of secret presence of God” within individual cultures, wherever “truth and grace are to be found.” The Fathers explained:

And so, whatever good is found to be sown in the hearts and minds of men, or in the rites and cultures peculiar to various peoples, not only is not lost, but is healed, uplifted, and perfected for the glory of God, the shame of the demon, and the bliss of men. (<em>Ad Gentes</em>, no. 9)

The relationship between culture and faith is one which must span the tension between unity and diversity, between the universal and the particular. John Paul II underscores the “difficulties created by cultural differences” in bridging between a culture’s own individuality of belief and expression and the “universality” of the Gospel message (Fides et ratio, no. 70). Yet the Holy Father holds that the truth of faith calls forth and frees the truths of any particular culture:

The Gospel is not opposed to any culture, as if in engaging a culture the Gospel would seek to strip it of its native riches and force it to adopt forms which are alien to it. On the contrary, the message which believers bring to the world and to cultures is a genuine liberation from all the disorders caused by sin and is, at the same time, a call to the fullness of truth. (no. 71)

Cultures are not diminished by their encounter with faith. On the contrary, the universality of the Gospel message “can embrace every culture,” fostering “whatever is implicit in them to the point where it will be fully explicit in the light of truth.” The Gospel calls on all peoples to preserve the truth of their own “cultural identity,” while, at the same time, they must “open themselves to the newness of the Gospel’s truth” and the newness of life that springs from it (nos. 71, 72).

Theology enters here, at its “source and starting point” in the active listening to the revealed word of God—auditus fidei (no. 73). Theology must “respond in different historical moments to the demands of different cultures, in order then to mediate the content of faith to those cultures in a coherent and conceptually clear way” (no. 92). From this point of departure, theology must seek its “final goal,” the intellectus fidei, to achieve a profound grasp of the contents of faith and to offer that renewed and deepened understanding to “serve evangelization more effectively” (no. 92). As we have seen, theology requires the assistance of philosophy along the entire journey.

John Paul II presents the path between theology and philosophy as a “circular” movement between faith and reason. Faith (and, more specifically, theology) receives the word in obedience (“entrusting” itself), and, with the aid of reason (philosophy), it seeks a better grasp of the meaning of the word it “hears.” Reason, in this movement, is drawn by faith (theology) to “explore paths which of itself it would not even have suspected it would take” (no. 73). Thus, theology and philosophy enable or empower one another, bringing each other to a deeper understanding than either could attain on its own.

John Paul II discerns three “stances” of philosophy in relation to Christian faith. The first is a philosophy that maintains its total autonomy—a complete independence from Revelation (no. 75). The Holy Father sees here a “valid aspiration” on the part of philosophy to exercise the capacity and rules of reason as far as possible. Despite reason’s “inherent weakness,” the Philosopher-Pope holds that reason’s aspiration should be “respected,” and “supported and strengthened,” because natural reason’s orientation to truth maintains an openness to the transcendent, and thus, “at least implicitly—to the “supernatural” (no. 75). Following its own rules and criteria, natural philosophy can attain universal truths. However, the Pope cautions that an autonomous philosophy is not to be confused with a “self-sufficient” philosophy, which considers itself “separate” and therefore, is closed off from the truly transcendent. This stance, says John Paul II, “is patently invalid” (no. 75).

St. John Paul II assures philosophy that it has nothing to fear in its encounter with theology. Rather than lose its autonomy, “reason is set free” from its “fragility and limitations” (no. 43) and enabled to attain the fullness of the truth it seeks, now made available to it by revealed Truth. “Faith is in a sense an ‘exercise of thought,’ and human reason is neither annulled nor debased in assenting to the contents of faith, which are in any case attained by way of free and informed choice” (no. 43). Drawing again on St. Thomas’s dictum that “grace does not destroy nature but perfects it” (ST I, 1, 8, ad 2), the Holy Father explains that the intellect and free will of the believer are activated and perfected in the “yes” of faith (no. 75).

 “Christian philosophy” is based in this understanding and founded upon the philosopher’s risk to be open to faith’s demands. This is the second “stance” of philosophy discussed by John Paul II. Christian philosophy is not a philosophy “of the Church” (which claims no philosophy as its own), but rather “a Christian way of philosophizing” (no. 76, my italics). John Paul II views this stance from two angles. In its subjective aspect, “faith liberates reason from presumption, the typical temptation of the philosopher.” In its objective aspect, the Christian philosopher’s enquiry is able to approach truths which only faith can make available to it. Among these John Paul II includes the notion of a Creator, the problem of evil, human dignity, equality, and freedom, and history as event (no. 76). Though the concepts themselves are given in Revelation, Christian philosophy considers these concepts from the point of view of natural reason, not from the theological point of view originating from the revealed word.

The third stance concerns philosophy as it is engaged by theology in its pursuit of intellectus fidei (no. 77). Though it must respect philosophy’s autonomy, theology must also recognize its need for philosophy’s collaboration. The fruits of their common work, however, must come under the gaze and discernment of the Magisterium and its “divine commission” of protecting the deposit of faith from error (Dei Verbum, 10, 12).

Here again John Paul II recognizes St. Thomas Aquinas as a “guide and model for theological studies” and, indeed, for all seekers of the truth (no. 78). In Thomas’ work, “the demands of reason and the power of faith found the most elevated synthesis ever achieved by human thought” (no. 78). From the perspective of Fides et ratio, no higher praise can be offered to any human endeavor. St. Thomas recognized and clearly taught the unity of faith and reason, that is to say, the unity of truth.

This is a point that John Paul II stresses as he closes this chapter. In fact, the unity of truth is the key point which the Holy Father stressed throughout Fides et ratio (see, for example, Fides et ratio, no. 13, 34, 51, 53). “The truth . . . can only be one” (no. 79). The content of the faith—revealed Truth—can take nothing away from philosophy. Philosophy must be “consonant” with Revelation (no. 79, cf. no. 41, 57). It must express the truth to its fullest capacity, recognizing at the same time that its capacity is limited. Philosophy must acknowledge that there is a transcendent truth to which it aspires but which it cannot attain on its own. Truth is one; philosophical truth and theological truth are one in a “reciprocal relationship.” Revelation is “the true point of encounter and engagement” between them (no. 79).

Chapter VII: Current Requirements and Tasks (80–99)

Revelation answers the question of life’s meaning, but its answer demands that philosophy stretch beyond its own limits and accept a “logic” which transcends its most extended reach (no. 80). In the first part of the final chapter, the Philosopher-Pope considers “certain requirements” which the word of God makes of philosophy (no. 79).

John Paul II presents the “exceptional philosophical density” of the Scriptures, which dispels “every illusion of autonomy which would deny the essential dependence on God of every creature.” Sacred Scripture teaches us that “God alone is the Absolute.” We and the world around us are “not absolute,” not “self-sufficient,” not “uncreated,” and not “self-generating.” Rather, we are made in the image of God. From the Bible, we learn of man’s freedom, his immortality, his moral will, his choice of evil, and the effects of that choice (no. 80).

The revealed Word of God answers philosophy’s question in and through the Word made flesh. The Incarnate Son of God is the “central point of reference for an understanding of the enigma of human existence, the created world and God himself.” This is the “fundamental conviction” made known to us by the “philosophy” of the Bible: “the world and human life do have a meaning and look towards their fulfilment, which comes in Jesus Christ” (no. 80).

John Paul II once again calls on philosophy to be “consonant with the word of God” (nos. 81, 79; cf. 42, 57). Furthermore, the word of God itself calls philosophy to this consonance. This is the “indispensable requirement” which Revelation makes of philosophy: consonance—literally, a “sounding together” in harmony. Philosophy is called to this unity of truth.

However, rather than attuning itself to the transcendent word, philosophy is tending to close in on itself, contributing to “an ever-deepening introversion” of the human spirit which has lost “reference of any kind to the transcendent” (no. 81; cf. nos. 15, 23, 25, 41, 67, 70). This “crisis of meaning” entails a “radical doubt” in which even the question itself is at risk:

A philosophy which no longer asks the question of the meaning of life would be in grave danger of reducing reason to merely accessory functions, with no real passion for the search for truth. (no. 81) 

The overarching requirement of consonance with Revelation carries within it three essential requirements for an adequate renewal of philosophy today, as specified by John Paul II. First, philosophy must “recover its sapiential dimension”—the dimension of “philosophical wisdom” (nos. 81, 44). John Paul II specifically aligns this requirement to reason’s search for the ultimate meaning of life. Only by reclaiming its orientation to transcendent truth will philosophy “conform to its proper nature” (no. 81).

The second requirement for the attainment of consonance with Revelation is that philosophy must recognize reason’s ability to know truth. John Paul II cites St. Thomas Aquinas (ST, I, 1. 16, a. 1; cf. De veritate, q. 1, a. 1) and St. Bonaventure (Collationes in Hexaemeron, 3, 8, 1) as Scholastic proponents of the principle “veritas est adaequatio rei et intellectus” (usually translated as “truth is the conformity [or equation] of thing and intellect”). Human persons “can with genuine certitude attain to reality itself as knowable” (Gaudium et Spes, 15, cited in Fides et ratio, no. 82). To say this is to acknowledge two things: first, that there is an objective reality to be known; second, that the human person has the capacity to know it. The human knower can penetrate, “not only to particular and subordinate aspects of reality—functional, formal or utilitarian—but to its total and definitive truth, to the very being of the object which is known” (no. 82).

Consequently, the third requirement for consonance with Revelation is one which is “as necessary as it is urgent”: Philosophy must attain “a genuinely metaphysical range.” By this the Holy Father means that philosophy must reach beyond the empirical and experiential to “things which transcend human experience and even human thought” (no. 83). The Pope observes:

Wherever men and women discover a call to the absolute and transcendent, the metaphysical dimension of reality opens up before them: in truth, in beauty, in moral values, in other persons, in being itself, in God. (no. 83)

John Paul II declares that “we cannot stop short at experience alone” (no. 83). In much of his philosophical writing, he (Wojtyła) has focused on experience as key to understanding the human person. He has urged an integration of the subjective dimension into our philosophical view rather than limiting its vantage point to the objective dimension. (See, inter alia, his essay, “Subjectivity and ‘the Irreducible’ in Man” in Person and Act and Related Essays, 536–45). But here he is issuing a caution against taking experience as the only point of reference, thereby excluding any knowledge which transcends experience. The Philosopher-Pope explains:

I want only to state that reality and truth do transcend the factual and the empirical, and to vindicate the human being’s capacity to know this transcendent and metaphysical dimension in a way that is true and certain, albeit imperfect and analogical. (no. 83)

The Holy Father asserts that he “insists so strongly” on the need for metaphysics because it provides the only philosophical route out of the “crisis of confidence in the powers of reason” which is widespread in philosophy, and therefore in society (no. 84). He speaks of a “segmentation” of knowledge, a “splintered approach to truth,” and a “fragmentation of meaning” (no. 85). This denial of the unity of truth is a cause of a loss of an “interior unity” within the human person. John Paul II cries out to his brother bishops: “How could the Church not be concerned by this? It is the Gospel which imposes this sapiential task directly upon her Pastors, and they cannot shrink from their duty to undertake it” (no. 85).

The Philosopher-Pope then exhorts philosophers to practice their discipline “in organic continuity with the great tradition” which extends from “the ancients” through the Fathers and Scholastics and includes “the fundamental achievements” of modern and contemporary philosophy. Though it may be said that this philosophical inheritance “belongs to all,” John Paul II presents the insight that, in fact, “it is we who belong to the tradition,” cautioning that this heritage “is not ours to dispose of at will.” Rather than viewing a return to tradition as a turning to the past, the Pope assures philosophers that tapping into the great flow of tradition will be the source of an “original, new and constructive mode of thinking” (no. 85). The Pope also challenges theologians, whose source must be the living Tradition of the Church, to bring forward “the enduring tradition of that philosophy which by dint of its authentic wisdom can transcend the boundaries of space and time” (no. 85).

John Paul II sees a renewed rootedness in tradition as the antidote to certain contemporary philosophical currents which present a danger. He briefly considers eclecticism, historicism, scientism, pragmatism, and nihilism “to point out their errors and the consequent risks for philosophical work” (no. 86). Eclecticism is a philosophical method which draws on various philosophies, making use of terms and concepts without regard for their systematic or historical context. Historicism denies “the enduring validity of truth,” seeing truth as bound by its cultural and historical period. “What was true in one period, historicists claim, may not be true in another” (no. 87). Scientism “refuses to admit the validity of forms of knowledge other than those of the positive sciences; and it relegates religious, theological, ethical and aesthetic knowledge to the realm of mere fantasy” (no. 88). Pragmatism “precludes theoretical considerations or judgements based on ethical principles.” The Pontiff gives particular attention to a pragmatist concept of democracy, “which is not grounded upon any reference to unchanging values: whether or not a line of action is admissible is decided by the vote of a parliamentary majority” (no. 89, cf. Evangelium Vitae, nos. 69–71).

Though he takes a moment to recognize the enrichment of philosophy in various contemporary philosophical fields (no. 91), John Paul II issues an alert regarding certain philosophical approaches considered “postmodern.” The term itself is somewhat vague and has varied applications, but the Pope emphasizes that these philosophies “merit appropriate attention.” The Holy Father focuses on nihilism, which maintains that “the time of certainties is irrevocably past, and the human being must now learn to live in a horizon of total absence of meaning, where everything is provisional and ephemeral” (no. 91). John Paul II’s words on nihilism contain a profound and unequivocal warning, and, though the passage is somewhat lengthy, deserve a careful reading:

[N]ihilism is a denial of the humanity and of the very identity of the human being. It should never be forgotten that the neglect of being inevitably leads to losing touch with objective truth and therefore with the very ground of human dignity. This in turn makes it possible to erase from the countenance of man and woman the marks of their likeness to God, and thus to lead them little by little either to a destructive will to power or to a solitude without hope. (no. 90)

Once people have succumbed to “the denial of all foundations and the negation of all objective truth,” the Holy Father warns, “it is pure illusion to try to set them free” (no. 90). Elsewhere, John Paul II has spoken of “an honest relationship with regard to truth as a condition for authentic freedom” (Encyclical Letter Redemptor hominis, no. 12). Here he admonishes, “Truth and freedom either go together hand in hand or together they perish in misery” (Fides et ratio, no. 90, cf. Redemptor hominis, no. 12).

Having surveyed the urgent tasks required of philosophy in our time, the Holy Father turns to theology, whose primary task is “to provide an understanding of Revelation and the content of faith” (no. 93, original italics). Theology must exercise this service at a particular moment in history, addressing the questions and concerns of particular cultures. John Paul II quotes John XXIII: “[T]his certain and unchangeable doctrine, always to be faithfully respected, must be understood more profoundly and presented in a way which meets the needs of our time” (Address at the Opening of the Second Vatican Council, cited in Fides et ratio, no. 92). John Paul II finds here a “dual task” for theology. First, there must be a continual updating (“aggiornamento”) of theology’s methods in order to meet the challenge of evangelization. Second, theology must remain faithful to its “prime concern” of articulating a profound and true understanding of Revelation (no. 92).

John Paul II counters the now-common stance (based in relativism) that to claim “to know a universally valid truth” is “to encourage intolerance.” Rather, the Pope sees belief in universal truth as “the essential condition for sincere and authentic dialogue between persons,” which alone answers “the specific form which the call to unity now takes” (no. 92). The Pope sees philosophy as key to this endeavor:

This task…challenges philosophy as well. The array of problems which today need to be tackled demands a joint effort—approached, it is true, with different methods—so that the truth may once again be known and expressed. (no. 92)

Since theology relies on the sources of Revelation for its primary task, John Paul II sees the analysis of the texts of Scripture and Tradition as “a basic and urgent need” (no. 93). Here he calls upon philosophy to assist theology in exploring “the relationship between fact and meaning . . . which constitutes the specific sense of history” (no. 94). The sacred texts hold meanings which transcend the limitations of human speech and historical events—meanings which convey the truth of salvation history. John Paul II elaborates:

This meaning presents itself as the truth about God which God himself communicates through the sacred text. Human language thus embodies the language of God, who communicates his own truth with that wonderful “condescension” which mirrors the logic of the Incarnation (no. 94; cf. <em>DV</em>, no. 13).

Theology must receive the text as presented, with all its cultural and historical expression, accepting it as divinely inspired, and seeking to understand and foster its true salvific meaning. In light of this, John Paul II posits a provocative and crucial question (no. 95): How can one “reconcile the absoluteness and the universality of truth with the unavoidable historical and cultural conditioning of the formulas which express that truth”? To answer the question, the Pope urges “the use of a hermeneutic open to the appeal of metaphysics” (no. 95). Though human language is subject to the effects of human history and culture, it maintains its ability to convey truths which are universal, as the Holy Father affirms:

Human language may be conditioned by history and constricted in other ways, but the human being can still express truths which surpass the phenomenon of language. Truth can never be confined to time and culture; in history it is known, but it also reaches beyond history. (no. 95)

The same principle can be applied to the conceptual language used in dogmatic statements and in the Church’s Conciliar definitions (nos. 95, 96). Though the meaning of the terms used may present cultural and historical difficulties, “the history of thought shows that across the range of cultures and their development certain basic concepts retain their universal epistemological value and thus retain the truth of the propositions in which they are expressed” (no. 96; cf. CDF, Mysterium Ecclesiae, no. 5). John Paul II calls on philosophy to “deepen the understanding of the relationship between conceptual language and truth” (no. 96).

John Paul II again exhorts theology to rely on “the intimate relationship which exists between faith and metaphysical reasoning.” Dogmatic theology in particular requires a philosophy of being in order to adequately articulate the faith “without lapsing into sterile repetition of antiquated formulas” (no. 97). The need for a recovery of metaphysics is “no less urgent” in moral theology. The Holy Father recalls his Encyclical Letter Veritatis splendor, in which he called for a “turn to a philosophical ethics which looks to the truth of the good, to an ethics which is neither subjectivist nor utilitarian” (no. 98).

Theology’s primary task of developing and transmitting its understanding of the mysteries of the faith bears fruit in the kerygma (proclamation of the faith) and in catechesis. The Holy Father speaks of catechesis as a formation of the person, which requires a “unique bond between teaching and living” the faith (no. 99). The catechumen must be taught the fullness of doctrine, but at the same time he or she must be guided and accompanied in living the faith in all its dimensions. The “philosophical implications” which John Paul II discerns in relation to catechetics are presented in a brief closing paragraph which is remarkable for its succinct elucidation of the profound call of philosophy in relation to the faith of the believer:

Philosophical enquiry can help greatly to clarify the relationship between truth and life, between event and doctrinal truth, and above all between transcendent truth and humanly comprehensible language. This involves a reciprocity between the theological disciplines and the insights drawn from the various strands of philosophy; and such a reciprocity can prove genuinely fruitful for the communication and deeper understanding of the faith. (no. 99, cf. <em>Catechesi tradendae</em>, no. 59)

Conclusion

In its defense of human dignity and in its work of proclaiming the Gospel, the Church relies on philosophy. John Paul II sees “no more urgent preparation” needed today than “to lead people to discover both their capacity to know the truth and their yearning for the ultimate and definitive meaning of life” (no. 102). This is the diakonia of the truth which is the core message of this encyclical (no. 2).

John Paul II underscores the powerful influence of philosophy on human behavior in its personal and social ethos and, in the broader perspective, on the development of culture itself. Philosophy has the potential—and, more than that, the vocation—to offer a “fundamental and original contribution in service of the new evangelization” (no. 103).

In order to bring this about, theology and philosophy must “mutually support each other,” by offering to each other “a purifying critique and a stimulus to pursue the search for deeper understanding” (no. 102, cf. Dei filius, ch. 4). Philosophy must rediscover its own dignity and vocation. The Philosopher-Pope calls for “a philosophy which is also true wisdom” (no. 102)—one which recognizes “the limits [it] faces when it neglects or rejects the truth of Revelation” (no. 100). The Holy Father urges philosophy to “explore more comprehensively the dimensions of the true, the good and the beautiful to which the word of God gives access” (no. 103).

Current crises call out for a philosophy of truth: “[E]cology, peace and the coexistence of different races and cultures” are specifically named by John Paul II. These concerns call for the witness of Christian thinkers, whose “philosophical thought is often the only ground for understanding and dialogue with those who do not share our faith” (no. 104).

Addressing theologians, the Holy Father reminds them that the “intimate bond” between theological and philosophical thought is “one of the Christian tradition’s most distinctive treasures.” John Paul II issues a broad challenge to theologians to “enter into a demanding critical dialogue” with philosophy. The range of their outreach must extend to all philosophy—”whether consonant with the word of God or not” (no. 105). To do so requires theologians to develop a profound understanding of the “metaphysical dimension of truth.” Formation of future priests in this understanding is particularly mentioned as a “grave responsibility” (no. 105).

To philosophers and teachers of philosophy, the Philosopher-Pope says: “Have the courage” to take up once again the philosophy of wisdom and truth, to “be open” to the challenge of the “impelling questions” which faith puts forward, and to “be strong enough” to answer that challenge with a philosophy that “always strives for the truth, alert to the good which truth contains” (no. 106).

To scientists, “to whom humanity owes so much of its current development,” the Holy Father offers encouragement, at the same time cautioning them never to abandon “the sapiential horizon” which aligns and unites their own work with “the philosophical and ethical values which are the distinctive mark of the human person” (no. 106).

To each and all, John Paul II issues an appeal “to look more deeply at man, whom Christ has saved in the mystery of his love, and at the human being’s unceasing search for truth and meaning” (no. 107). Warning against philosophies which have “lured people into believing that they are their own absolute master,” the Holy Father assures all that the true “grandeur” and full freedom of the human person can be found “only in choosing to enter the truth, to make a home under the shade of Wisdom and dwell there” (no. 107). Only here, in the knowledge and love of God who is Truth, can the human persons find the “supreme realization of their true self” (no. 107).  

Finally, Pope St. John Paul II turns to our Lady, addressing her as “Seat of Wisdom.” Acknowledging a “deep harmony” between Mary’s own vocation and that of “true philosophy,” the Holy Father draws a twofold analogy. First, as the Blessed Virgin gave herself totally in order that the Word might become flesh, so philosophy must “offer its rational and critical resources” in order that theology may bear fruit. Second, as Mary’s “Fiat” to the Angel’s message was an act of “true humanity and freedom,” so philosophy’s openness to the transcendent word of God does not in any way lessen its “autonomy,” but rather enables “all its enquiries [to] rise to their highest expression” (no. 108).

The Holy Father cites an ancient homily which calls Mary “the table at which faith sits in thought” (no. 108, citing Pseudo-Epiphanius, 43). An alternate translation says that “the intellectual table of faith which furnished the bread of life to the world” (cited in Allen, “Mary and the Vocation of Philosophers,” 53, no. 13). Though he does not unpack the meaning of the phrase for us (see Meconi, Montovani, Allen), John Paul II immediately places Mary before us as “a lucid image of true philosophy,” recognizing Mary’s life as “a true parable illuminating the reflection contained in these pages.” In other words, the “Handmaid of the Lord” lives the perfect diakonia of the truth. All that the Philosopher-Pope has taught within, regarding receptivity, wonder, speculation (“But Mary kept all these things, pondering them in her heart” [Lk 2:19]), humility, openness to transcendence, and the sapiential dimension, etc., may find its perfect model in Mary. Thus, with the ancient Fathers, John Paul II exhorts us: “philosophari in Maria” (no. 108). May all seekers of the truth look to Mary, who, from her table of faith, points the way to her Son, Jesus Christ, “who is the Truth” (no. 33).