The “Shocking” Relation between Innocent Smith and Chesterton’s Jesus

During the time of the early Church, the Gospels were written in order to maintain the integrity and reality of Christ’s shocking presence here on earth. Of the many aspects depicted of Christ by the evangelists, one characteristic of Christ stands out. The Greek word θαύμα used by the evangelists, meaning “wonder” or “awe” or “astonishment,” can be found over twenty-five times within the Gospels to describe the manner of reaction from coming in contact with Christ. Whether they are his disciples, the Pharisees, the sick, the sinners, or agnostics, Jesus left people in θαύμα, in “shock.” There has been recent commentary on the shocking aspect of Jesus’ identity written by Catholic philosopher Peter Kreeft which is aptly named Jesus Shock. Kreeft describes the shocking nature of Christ and how man must choose to accept this shock into their life. It is from this vein of θαύμα which G.K. Chesterton creates the character Innocent Smith in his novel Manalive. Chesterton characterizes the man Jesus in writings such as Orthodoxy, Heretics, and The Everlasting Man, as a shocking man alive. Notably, Chesterton states, “We should be shocked if we really imagined the nature of Christ” (The Everlasting Man Chesterton 197). Innocent Smith, the main character of Chesterton’s Manalive, shocks and attempts to re-liven the other characters by performing actions which rattle and astonish. Although not a perfect Christ-character itself, Chesterton’s depiction of Innocent Smith throughout the novel draws from many qualities and insights that Chesterton sees in the figure of Christ: the man alive!

The first notable characteristic or image resonating in Innocent Smith from Chesterton’s writings on Jesus Christ must include his reference as a doctor. “In each case the scare was so wholesome that the victim felt that the victim himself has dated from it as a new birth. [Innocent] Smith, so far from being a madman, is rather a mad doctor—he walks the world curing frenzies and not distributing them” (Manalive Chesterton 75). Smith shocks the other characters within Manalive into realizing that their life is worth living, while treating them as the “sick”, those who need healing. Each person is boring, stale, and stagnant. To Smith, it is the bored characters who are maniacs, for they do not embrace a life worth living. In The Everlasting Man, Chesterton depicts Christ as “a strong-minded doctor dealing with homicidal maniacs” (The Everlasting Man Chesterton 189). To Chesterton, Christ has come to save man from the sickness of sin. Jesus said, “Those who are healthy do not need a physician, but the sick do. I have not come to call the righteous to repentance but sinners” (Luke 5:31-32). Christ desires a change of heart, lest man’s soul dies from the deathly wage of sin. Even Kreeft states, “The opposite of shock is boredom… The medievals called it sloth… [sloth] is spiritual anorexia” (Kreeft 43). Boredom, the lacking of shock, leads man to sin, a lacking of the good. Jesus came to bring shock as his main remedy. Similarly, Innocent Smith saves the lives of his “patients” through his shocking behavior by bringing them to new life.

One of the difficult quandaries which face the jury of Smith’s peers is this basic question: “Whether this [shocking] Smith is a man or a monster” (Manalive Chesterton 48). The fact that they have to explore whether Smith is real or mad demonstrates the inherent mystery of Smith’s shocking nature. Moon comments on Smith by saying, “I am by no means sure that I believe [Smith’s motives] myself, but I am quite sure that [Smith’s motives] are worth a man’s altering and defending” (Manalive Chesterton 122). Yet, the peers of Innocent Smith have only one conclusion: Smith is “really innocent” of any madness or lies (Manalive Chesterton 14). Even if someone is astonishing or wonderful, certainly their credibility will always be questioned.

In Kreeft’s Jesus Shock, it states, “Jesus-shock breaks your heart in two and forces you to choose which half of your heart you will follow” (Kreeft 41). There is no middle ground. Either Christ is a loony man or Chris is the Lord. Just as how Smith’s good intentions are questionable or mysterious, Chesterton makes the point in Orthodoxy to remark that, “If a man says that he is Jesus Christ, it is no answer to tell him that the world denies his divinity; for the world denied Christ’s” (Orthodoxy Chesterton 15). To better demonstrate Jesus’ mystical identity, Chesterton comments, “I have imagined the monster that man [Jesus] might have seemed at first to the mere nature around him” (The Everlasting Man Chesterton 197). Also, Chesterton points out that, “The only explanation which immediately occurred to my mind was that Christianity did not come from Heaven, but from Hell. Really, if Jesus of Nazareth was not Christ, he must have been the Antichrist” (Orthodoxy Chesterton 86). Chesterton articulates that the shocking aspect of Christ, and Innocent Smith in Manalive, needed deliberation. Once again, just because Smith, like Jesus, induces θαύμα, “shock,” does not take away his credibility as one whose mission is to re-liven the hearts and souls of his peers.

And that, too, is something Jesus and Innocent Smith hold in common: A shocking mission. Reverend Raymond Percy offers this insight to Smith: “I believe the maniac was one of those who do not merely come, but are sent; sent like a great gale upon ships by Him who made His angels wings and His messengers a flaming fire” (Manalive Chesterton 94). In The Everlasting Man, Chesterton makes note that, “Jesus displayed a divine precocity and began his mission” (The Everlasting Man Chesterton 189). It is with this divine precocity and shocking methodology that Chesterton affirms Smith’s Christo-related mission: the “[shocking] Smith” holds a pistol to the head of Modern Man. But [he] shall not use it to kill him. Only to bring him to life” (Manalive Chesterton 74). Interestingly enough, Kreeft brings to light this insight into Christ’s mission here on earth: “So what did God do next? The craziest thing of all, the deed no sage, no saint.., and no devil ever dreamed of: He became a human zygote… And then He gave Himself… to our souls” (Kreeft 48).  Christ came to bring life. This wonderful parallel to Jesus can be plainly illustrated in the Gospels as well: “I came so that [man] might have life and have it more abundantly” (John 10:10). This clearly shocking mission of Jesus can be seen reflected by the mission of Innocent Smith to the characters of Beacon House: bring people to a greater fullness of life through mission received from a “divine revelation.”

Jesus and Innocent Smith, the shocking men alive, are also paradoxically plain. In Heretics, Chesterton articulates that because Jesus attracted crowds as a teacher and great mind, that he appealed to every person, everyman. “This plainness,” states Chesterton, “is the note of all very great minds” (Heretics Chesterton 132). Notably, Kreeft mentions, “Everything [Jesus] does is a surprise… [Jesus] would rather be known as crazy than rational” (Kreeft 47). Because of Jesus’ refreshingly original teachings, He can effectively carry out His shocking mission. In a similar way, the characters of Beacon House describe Smith as, “a man of business, a plain, practical man: a man of affairs; a man of facts and the daylight” (Manalive Chesterton 30). The plain aspect of Smith allows him to effectively façade his shocking agenda upon those of Beacon House. Smith sees very clearly the stale and hardened hearts of the Beacon House folk, and executes the only plain act: something maniacal. Now, Smith’s very “unorthodox” methods for shock, such as shooting his friends or traveling the world just to return home again, are the epitome of his originality, his plainness. “I don’t want people to anticipate me as a well-known practical joke,” says Smith,” I want both my gifts to come virgin and violent” (Manalive Chesterton 73). By being plain, both Jesus and Innocent Smith are paradoxically shocking and original.

            Although Innocent Smith is a married man, and Jesus is explicitly not, there is still much consistent with the shocking perspective of marriage held by both Smith and Jesus. The people whom Smith encounters hold very pessimistic views of marriage. For example, Michael Moon, an Irishman who desires to woo the rich young lady Rosamund Hunt, says the following about marriage:

Imprudent marriages!... And pray where in earth or heaven are there any prudent marriages? Might as well talk about prudent suicides…. You never know a husband till you marry him. Unhappy! Of course you’ll be unhappy!... Disappointed! Of course we’ll be disappointed! (Manalive Chesterton 31)

           

The characters feel that marriage is nothing more than a contract between two people who cannot keep up their ends. That is why they are unhappy; that is why they are disappointed. Their unhappiness and disappointment derive from a stale understanding of what marriage was created for. They are bored with the concept of marriage. In light of Kreeft’s concept of boredom, he states that, “Recognizing beauty is the only remedy for boredom. Beauty relieves boredom because beauty is the object of love” (Kreeft 56). Beauty is more than just an abstraction: it is a tangible object of a loving communion in the example of marriage. Now, Innocent Smith combats this decayed concept of marriage by having engaged in multiple honeymoons with the same woman under different names. Although he is charged with adultery and polygamy, such awful charges, the jury comprising of the other characters come to the conclusion that, “It is just because he does not want to commit adultery that he achieves the romance of sex; it is just because he loves one wife that he has a hundred honeymoons” (Manalive Chesterton 123). It is by love, coming into communion with his wife, that Smith shocks life into his marriage. Meanwhile, Chesterton mentions in The Everlasting Man that, “[Christ] does not suggest anything at all, except the sacramental view of marriage” (The Everlasting Man Chesterton 194). Jesus calls mankind to a higher standard, living in the goodness created by God. And although Smith’s marriage is not explicitly sacramental, it is “holy” in the sense that it is set apart from other marriages for a greater good. Instead of having sex for sex’s sake, in adultery, or marrying for the sake of marrying, in polygamy, Smith does not commit adultery or polygamy so that he can better live the good of sex and the good of marriage. The shock of life injected by Smith into his marriage through faithfulness and unity also injects life into the vision of the other characters’ marriages.

Now, one of the most obvious parallels between Innocent Smith and Jesus is that they are shockingly connected to death. Jesus and Innocent Smith have this distinct and wonderful relationship to death by attaching their ministry in such a way that death becomes a spouse of these men to produce a “fecundity” of shock, of θαύμα. Chesterton describes the relationship of Jesus and death by articulating “We are meant to feel that Death was the bride of Christ as Poverty was the bride of St. Francis. We are meant to feel that His life was in that sense a sort of love-affair with death, a romance of the pursuit of the ultimate sacrifice” (The Everlasting Man Chesterton 207). Chesterton recognizes that death is the ultimate sacrifice one human being can make. Jesus makes this “ultimate sacrifice” by dying on the cross for man so that he may live. Death, as the bride of Christ, is joined by Christ to produce the greatest of human gifts from God: eternal life. Once again in Kreeft’s Jesus Shock, he states that Christ’s God-nature made his death even more shocking: “This man who has nerve endings all over his body and gets hungry and tired and bloody and nailed to a cross and dies—that is the ‘holy God, holy strong one, holy immortal one,’ the eternal Word of the eternal Creator Who spoke all time and space and matter into being” (Kreeft 49). That does sound quite shocking, indeed! While Chesterton recognizes this marital connection of Jesus and Death, the fecundity produced from the relationship of Innocent Smith and Death can only be described as really shocking!

 Smith utilizes his partner, Death, to motivate the characters especially by means of wildly swaying, swinging, and shooting the pistol within close proximity of them. Dr. Eames’s encounter with Smith and his gun results in Eames exclaiming, “Do you mean to kill me?” (Manalive Chesterton 69). Eames is fearful for his life, and yet detects no remorse or reluctant movements in Smith’s pistol twirling. Instead Eames detects a crazed madman who embraces Death and wants his friends to encounter Death as well. When Inglewood asks Smith, “Why do you deal death out of that machine gun?" (Manalive Chesterton 19), Smith is not disconnected to Death, but, if anything, in a “love-affair” with Death. He works with Death, not to kill, but to bring life. Just like Jesus, Smith uses this romance with Death to give, to love, and to shock. In fact, the only time explicitly mentioned where Smith falls in love is with a woman who has provoked Death.

The uprush of [Smith’s] released optimism burst into the starts like a rocket when he suddenly fell in love. …What was worse, he found he had equally jeopardized a harmless lady alone in a rowing boat, and one who had provoked death by no professions of philosophic religion… He seems to have proposed to her on the bank. (Manalive Chesterton 93)

            It is from this unique relationship that Smith has with Death that fruitfulness and fecundity spring forth. This fruit is the shock into life other people have gained by encountering Innocent Smith and Death. This fruit can only be appreciated in light of how the other characters, such as skeptical Dr. Pym, view the importance and origin of Death. “Brighter days, however, have dawned, and we now see death as universal and inevitable, as part of that great soul-stirring and heart-upholding average which we call for convenience the order of nature,” said Pym (Manalive Chesterton 57). Dr. Pym takes for granted the importance of death during the opening of Smith’s trial. His pessimistic attitude toward death as a problematic necessity minimizes the awareness of the goodness life brings about. Death is wrong, according to Pym, because it is inevitable and ordered; it is not shocking. And yet, it is only after the trial where the characters of Beacon House realize “we have come to think certain things [death] wrong which are not wrong at all” (Manalive Chesterton 122). The ordering and inevitability of Death is not wrong: the people of Beacon House merely needed something or someone outside themselves [Smith] to shock [Death] into their souls with life. That is the most basic paradox. And that is what, according to Chesterton, Jesus Christ did.

            Jesus shocks life into humanity by His very act of death. Chesterton brings this to light by articulating, “With [the death of Christ] we come face to face with the essential fact to be realized. All the great groups that stood about the Cross represent, in one way or another, the great historical truth of the time; that the world could not save itself. Man could do no more” (The Everlasting Man Chesterton 210). Just as how the world is dead without Jesus’ self-sacrifice upon the Cross, so too does the world of Innocent Smith lack any vivacity, ambition, or energy. It takes such a man alive, full of θαύμα, to awaken these people from their slumber. They need him. For, at the beginning of Manalive, Diana Duke asks, “What is there to wake up to?” (Manalive Chesterton 28). Kreeft can point toward an answer: “Joy. Joy always includes surprise, sometimes even shock” (Kreeft 45). Smith’s shocking nature and mission demonstrates the fullest answer: Duke and the rest of the characters must be shocked into life before they die.

Finally, both Innocent Smith and Jesus are the teachers of shock. Both give instruction interpersonally. For, it is only when persons are directly addressed do they change their hearts and minds. Especially in Raymond Percy’s letter, Innocent Smith says, “Until a pistol-barrel was poked under their very noses they never even knew they had been born. For ages looking up an eternal perspective it might be true that life is a learning to die. But for these little white rats it was just as true that death was their only chance of learning to live” (Manalive Chesterton 92). The characters of Beacon House are taught how to live, being shocked by death, through the original and novel teaching style of Smith. On the other hand, Chesterton describes Christ as a great teacher by having the “habit of assuming [His] point of view to be one which was human and casual, one which would readily appeal to every passing man” (Heretics Chesterton 132). Jesus, the great teacher, used such commonplace methods of teaching, such as parables, to illustrate His shocking truths. Kreeft notes that, “Christ teaches us joy… but [sometimes] we don’t listen” (Kreeft 65). The reason Jesus and Innocent Smith appeal to every man is due, once again, to their “shock”, their θαύμα. Although not every man is changed by this shock, like Dr. Warner for Innocent Smith or the Pharisees for Jesus, every man must admit that they had to either re-affirm their hard hearts or accept an invitation to new life. That is why Kreeft says, “Those who meet Jesus always experience either joy or its opposites, either foretastes of Heaven or foretastes of Hell. Not everyone who meets Jesus is pleased, and not everyone is happy, but everyone is shocked” (Kreeft 45). Jesus gives an opportunity for life to those who accept his shocking teaching. For Jesus teaches, “I am… the Life. Anyone who believes in me shall not die, but live forever” (John 11:25).

Both Jesus and Innocent Smith share many similar characteristics, using methods by which those people whom they encounter can only describe as shocking. The Gospels describe Jesus by using the word θαύμα, for his “wonderfulness” was recognized by all. Even Peter Kreeft’s book Jesus Shock offers evidence to support Chesteton’s thoughts on how shocking and wonderful Christ is. In the depiction of Innocent Smith, Chesterton plainly states: His creed of [shock] was Christian (Manalive Chesterton 92). Although not Jesus Christ himself, Innocent Smith does bring to flesh the “wonder and awe,” the θαύμα aspect of Jesus Christ. As a teacher, doctor, missionary, and lover, Smith’s figure is Jesus’ reflection, a “man alive” shocking life into a people of stagnancy.  

The Art of Teaching: The Method

             Within the preface for The Art of Teaching, Gilbert Highet includes that, “Teaching is not like inducing a chemical reaction: it is much more like painting a picture or making a piece of music, or… like planting a garden or writing a friendly letter.” And, although there are certain prescribed characteristics of “good teaching”, there is no such thing as a scientific method for teaching—instead there is a “teaching method.” Highet includes two essential components for a successful method of teaching—preparation and fixing the impression.

            The first stage of methodical teaching includes a preparation of the subject. Of course, no successful teacher cannot prepare for a class (note: double negative). Contrapositively, therefore, only a successful teacher prepares for a class. Now, preparation of a class includes three vital sections: a broad explanation of the class material’s importance, maintaining a firm grasp on contemporary issues pertaining to the class’s material, and an outline of anticipated material to be covered during the class. Highet warns, however, “A teacher who maps out his course badly, and neither sees where he is going nor tells his class what to expect, usually fails because he does not quite command his material” (147).

            Many times, a teacher will begin class by “diving right into the material.” Students, however, remain bewildered as to the subject’s importance or relevance to his life—much less the subject itself. During my senior year in high school, my Calculus teacher neglected to tell me what a “derivative” was. I spent the whole first semester calculating derivatives, not knowing what they were or why they were important to the subject of Calculus. Had he simply said, “A derivative is a slope of a function,” on the first day of class, I would have understood Calculus with greater clarity—and perhaps received a better grade. Even Highet mentions that, “[A teacher] must explain [the subject], allow its merits to display themselves, fill in a suitable background” (73).

            Next, Highet emphasizes that, “teaching the same old stuff year after year,” should be, “avoided at all costs by every good teacher” (81). Because most subjects are “living subjects”—meaning that information or perspectives change on the subjects over time—a teacher ought to grow and live along with the subject. In particular, teaching requires assimilation of contemporary issues relevant and pertinent to the subject—for fear that a student refers to the class as monotony. Even Highet exclaims, “Monotony in teaching is a fault” (81)!       

            Now, by constructing an outline of expected material to be covered during the semester, the students gain a better understanding of interconnectedness with respect to the subject. Also, an outline provides an adequate pacemaker—and just like a heart’s pacemaker, regulates the “beat” of the class—creating both expectations for the teacher and students. For, with a class outline, the class gains a purpose—and can visibly see its design for an end. Even Highet articulates that, “One of the aids to learning is the sense of purpose. One of [purpose’s] chief rewards is the sense of achievement” (69).

            Highet makes note of historically successful educators—the Jesuit Order. Although Highet comes from a secular university (i.e. Columbia), he recognizes the Jesuit perfection of “fixing the impression.” One word, coined by the Jesuits, can sufficiently create an impressionable mark upon a student—repeat, repeat, repeat! (cf. 148) As a student who has experienced Jesuit education, I can attest to the effectiveness of the “repeat” strategy. For, the Jesuits “watch carefully and vary his questions to ensure that there is nothing mechanical about this repetition, but then urge once more repeat and once more repeat” (148). Obviously, repetition imprints the information upon a student’s mind and, in turn, remains readily available due to retention.

            Hopefully, a teacher aspires to more than just giving information to his students. As Highet alludes, the methods of a teacher ought to bring a classroom into a “joint enterprise of a group of friendly human beings who like using their brains” (153)—for this is what Highet describes as the “best type of teaching.”

The Art of Teaching: Bridge Building

           According to Gilbert Highet, The Art of Teaching was named such because, “I believe that teaching is an art, not a science… You must throw your heart into [teaching], you must realize that it cannot all be done by formulas.” There, then, seems one aspect of Highet’s teaching method which differentiates from a scientific method—the human personality. It is one thing to build a bridge by constructing mathematical formulas and correlating those formulas to the material, however, there is such an admiration for beauty in visionary design meant for a greater aesthetic value than merely a formula. Highet advocates creative “bridge-building” by integrating the human person with the teaching method.

            First of all, Highet describes the most vital attribute of a good teacher—knowing the subject. What good is there for a teacher who knows the same amount of information, if not less, than his students? Simply, there is none. Knowing the subject also means keeping tabs upon current growth in the subject and continually gaining knowledge pertaining to the subject. Now, Highet poses the question—“Why can a teacher not simply learn the rudiments of the subject, master them thoroughly, and then stop?” (13). The best answer to this is: one cannot understand the rudiments of an important subject without knowing its higher levels.

            Now, how does knowing the subject relate to bridge-building? Without knowing how to build a bridge, one cannot build a bridge. There is no direction for which the bridge to start or stop, there is no knowledge of needed materials for building, and one knows not the purpose of the bridge! In the same way, without knowing a subject, there is nothing a teacher can give to a student—no direction, information, or purpose. Highet articulates, “The neglect of [knowing the subject] is one of the chief reasons for the bad teaching that makes pupils hate schools and universities” (14).

            Now, Highet proceeds to discuss a second important characteristic, quite related to the first—liking the subject which one teaches. Now liking a subject does not mean liking all of a subject, but how trusting would one be of a doctor who disliked medicine? In the same parallel, liking the subject means a continued interest and total immersion in topics pertaining to the subject—even Highet proclaims, “If you do enjoy the subject, it will be easy to teach even when you are tired, and delightful when you are feeling fresh” (20).

            The way a teacher “builds a bridge” between the students and the information requires mastery of especially contemporary knowledge. He is the architect who knows the recent advances in engineering while also maintaining the aesthetic integrity and beauty of the bridge. Highet asserts that, “A wise teacher will choose particular areas of his subject which he believes will be both interesting and illuminating, and will find that his increasing knowledge of them will give him a sense of mastery” (24). By keeping interested, the teacher also peaks the interest of his students—and, in turn, increases their ability to retain information.

            Highet addresses the final mark of a good teacher—knowing and liking his students. He notes how, “The good teacher feels that same flow of energy [from the youth], constantly supplied by the young” (27). He admits, however, that there are some devil youths—whom he names as “eccentrics.” If anything, Highet encourages an impersonal relationship with these students—for fear that they would “explode” (42). But, by knowing the students, whether they are eccentric, viscerotonic (pleasure-drive), somatotonic (image-driven), or cerebrotonic (thought-driven),  the teacher can better design the bridge over the gap* between the students and information.

            Highet explicitly mentions two functions of the teacher—which distinguishes him from a business man or the likes. The first function includes, “Making a bridge between school or college and the world” (49). That means the teacher makes whatever subject to be taught—whether be Latin, Theology, or Mathematics— relatable and applicable to contemporary society, and having students recognize that respective subject in their daily lives. Secondly, the teacher must, “Make a bridge between youth and maturity” (52). This is the ability to structure the class to access the students’ youthful energy while not allowing frivolity to ensue.

            Finally, Highet makes the statement, “Difficult though this bridge-building between two worlds may be, it is possible; it is necessary; it is done by the best teachers” (52). Obviously there is more to teaching than lesson plans and subject matter—just as how bridge-building requires more than just a knowledge of mathematics, engineering, and architecture. The best bridge-builders are artists (e.g. the Golden Gate Bridge). In a similar way, the best teachers are also artists, infusing their souls and hearts into teaching.

The Intellectual Life (Chapter 3-5 Summary)

        The Jesuit Order is one of the most influential Catholic orders of religious vocations in the world. They are known for many charisms—one, however, best summarizes A.G. Sertillanges’s commentary on the intellectual life—“Finding God in All Things.” Although Sertillanges was not a Jesuit (he was a Dominican), his The Intellectual Life surely overflows with encouragement for alertness to God’s beautiful creation, goodness, and truth.

            Beginning chapter three, Sertillanges reaffirms that “the intellectual life” is a vocation—a calling from God to direct one’s life. And yet, he directly applies this vocation in context of another vocation—Christian Marriage. Among his many assertions concerning the married life, Sertillanges includes, “[a wife] can produce much by helping her husband produce…consoling him for his disappointments… soothing his sorrows… being his sweet reward after his labors” (Sertillanges 45). The wife ought to support the husband in his vocation, for that is her vocation in the marital relationship. Living in a Christo-centric relationship reveals God’s true presence.

            Another way that Sertillanges offers the intellectual worker a glimpse into God’s presence includes Solitude. “Solitude enables you to make contact with yourself, a necessity if you want to realize yourself—not to repeat like a parrot a few acquired formulas, but to be the prophet of the God within you who speaks a unique language to each man” (Sertillanges 50). Certainly, Sertillanges suggests that within this prayer-state God grants the intellectual true inspiration. Sertillanges warns, however, “By carrying the cult of silence too far, one would reach the silence of death” (Sertillanges 63). For, a body motionless too long gets atrophy—in the same sense, silence and solitude must be balanced with intellectual work. Ultimately, articulates Sertillanges, the Truth (found in Jesus Christ) must be the intellectual’s final goal or end.

            Because truth must be the goal of the intellectual, he must keep every eye out in observance for truth. Interestingly enough, the truth is everywhere—as long as one keeps looking.

Truth is commoner than articles of furniture. It cries out in the streets and does not turn its back on us when we turn our backs on it. Ideas emerge from facts; they also emerge from conversations, chance occurrences, theatres, visits, strolls, the most ordinary books. Everything holds treasures, because everything is in everything, and a few laws of life and of nature govern the rest. (Sertillanges 73).

What a better exemplification of “Finding God in All Things!” The alertness of truth must be the greatest attribute of the intellectual—for without alertness, the intellectual falls into a mind of a “commonplace man” (cf. Sertillanges 74).

            Rich Mullins, a notable Christian musician, once said that he first invited Christ into his life at the age of four by singing, “Into my heart, into my heart, come Lord Jesus, into my heart.” In a similar way, Sertillanges alludes to the importance of inviting Christ into the intellectual’s life. “Children are taught ‘to give their hearts to God’; the intellectual, a child in that respect, must in addition give his heart to the truth” (Sertillanges 88). Throughout chapters three, four, and five, Sertillanges gives examples of how to allow God into the intellectual’s life: The Mass (cf. 90), Prayer (cf. 89), and studying Theology (cf. 110).

            Sertillanges finishes by asserting that studying Theology supersedes all other fields of study, because it is from Theology that all other subjects flow. “The sciences and philosophy without theology discrown themselves more lamentably, since the crown they repudiate is a heavenly one” (Sertillanges 107). Historically, great thinkers like Aristotle, Francis Bacon, Leonardo da Vinci, and Leibnitz were “renaissance men” because they broadened their field of study, or as Sertillanges would describe, a “Comparative study” (Sertillanges 102)— linking their studies to general philosophy and theology. For, “Theology has inserted a divine graft into the tree of knowledge, thanks to which this tree can bear fruits that are not its own” (Sertillanges 110). Overall, all other subjects, fields, and areas of study serve the purpose of supporting Theology—the study of God and His presence in man’s life.

In recognizing the truth of one’s life, the intellectual will surely “Find God in All Things.” The intellectual must remember this important maxim provided by Sertillanges—“The half-informed man is not the man who knows only half of things, but the man who only half knows things” (Sertillanges 122).

The Intellectual Life

            “I would put The Intellectual Life on the desk of every serious, and most of the unserious ones,” claims Fr. James Schall, SJ in his Foreword (Sertillanges xiii). Although Fr. Schall includes a humorous tone to his overall perception of The Intellectual Life, nevertheless he stresses and strains throughout the Foreword about the book’s importance and vitality to the life of an intellectual, much less a Catholic intellectual. Now, Fr. Schall, SJ is a professor of Political Philosophy at Georgetown University. He realizes the wisdom of thought and how it affects the way people execute political agendas and persuade others. Notably, Fr. Schall’s significance of endorsement alludes to the fact that the reader ought to realize how much of a positive effect this book encloses between its paper covers. Even more so, Fr. Schall claims, “[The Intellectual Life] will have an abiding, concrete effect on our lives” (Sertillanges xiv).

            According to Schall, The Intellectual Life’s most astounding characteristic comprises in truth. Whether it is the truth about applicable study habits, effective note-taking, organization skills, or moral truths, Schall notes that, “[Sertillanges] does not hesitate to warn us of the intimate relation between our knowing the truth and our not ordering our souls to the good” (Sertillanges xii). Significantly, Schall makes continual references to how The Intellectual Life supersedes and transcends the times —“This book allows us… to know why we need not be dependent on the media…” (Sertillanges xiii). Just as how truth remains truth regardless of times and customs, so too, articulates Schall, does The Intellectual Life— this book “allows [the reader] to be free [from the times]” (Sertillanges xiii).

            Vocation comes from Latin word “voco” meaning “to call.” Therefore, it follows that a vocation translates to a calling—usually defining one’s purpose in life. According to Sertillanges, a vocation more specifically, “comes from heaven and from our first nature” (Sertillanges 4). God plays an immense role in defining our purpose—from making us in his image, imago Dei, to revealing Himself in everyday life, and during mankind’s experience for coming to know ultimate truth. “If we are here, it is because God has placed us here” (Sertillanges 14). Our purpose totally and wholly depends upon God’s will and desire for us in our life. Although, it is our free will that, at times, gets in the way for answering our vocation, or call, to be effective intellectuals. And yet, this free will, articulates Sertillanges, is the most vital attribute and characteristic of being a human person—“[the will] is the most important thing!” (Sertillanges 10).

Not surprisingly, Sertillanges’s featured common virtues for intellectual workers can be summarized by the three Theological Virtues: Love, Faith, and Hope. “Tell me what you love, I will tell you what you are” (Sertillanges 19). Ultimately, as Catholic intellectual workers, love must be appropriately placed toward the desire of the Truth—namely Jesus Christ. The Jesuits have a phrase— “Finding God in all things.” Namely, God reveals himself through ultimate truth, and by using the intellect out of love for the Truth, the intellectual worker finds God—more than what he was expecting!

 Faith flows from a deep trust that the intellect will not fail, even if it seemingly cannot reveal fully the truth at any one given time. Sertillanges asserts, “One has no faith in jewel merchants who sell pearls and wear none” (Sertillanges 18). Yet, Jesus Christ claims the truth and, according to Dr. Peter Kreeft—a philosopher at Boston College—Jesus revealed new himself as more Truth—leaving his followers thaumazō “to wonder.” Jesus fulfilled this truth gained through the faith in intellect inspired by the Holy Spirit. He is the trustworthy, faithful provider of The Truth.

And from this faith, Hope clings on to the promise of Christ that the Truth will be fully revealed. Once again, “By practicing the truth that we know, we merit the truth that we do not yet know. We merit it in the sight of God…when we pay homage by living the truth of life” (Sertillanges 19). In essence, the fullness of God’s truth in our lives will be gained when Christ comes again, during the parousia. This will only be gained, however, if we practice the truth, and live in the Truth— “the Truth is God” (Sertillanges 30)!

Ultimately, Sertillanges connects all studious virtues to flow from the Truth revealed with the help of the three Theological virtues. Whether it be through concrete note-taking, sufficient sleep patterns, or prudent interest in knowledge, the intellectual must remember this important maxim provided by Sertillanges—“To accept ourselves as we are is to obey God and to make sure of good results” (Sertillanges 28).