The Theologian with the Smell of the Sheep
by Cardinal Thomas Christopher Collins
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I: The Ecclesial Vocation of the Theologian
At his first Chrism Mass, Pope Francis spoke of the mission of priests to be true spiritual shepherds of the people of God: “This I ask you: be shepherds, with the “smell of the sheep”, make it real, as shepherds among your flock ...”.He emphasized that the pastors of the Church have an ecclesial mission: they must not be self-referential, but always act, and be internally disposed deep in their hearts, in a way that shows that they are aware that they are in the service of others, of their brothers and sisters in Christ. They, and not only the Pope, are called to be “servants of the servants of God.”
But this is not a Chrism Mass, or a pastoral assembly of priests or of bishops. This is the convocation of a Theology Faculty. It is a time to celebrate the years of fruitful intellectual labour that have led to the granting of the degrees and other signs of recognition which have been bestowed in this solemn academic ceremony. It is a time to rejoice with those who are completing their studies, or at least a significant stage in their formal studies, to wish them well, and to pray for God’s blessings upon them in the years ahead. This is a time to thank all of those in the Catholic Christian academic community which is the University of Saint Michael’s College who have assisted those who are graduating today, and to thank our friends and academic colleagues in the Toronto School of Theology and the University of Toronto, many of whom are present today to share in this celebration.
Nonetheless, on this celebratory academic occasion, it is most fitting to reflect, not perhaps on the image of the priest or bishop with the smell of the sheep, but of the theologian with the smell of the sheep. This is because all who are engaged in theological studies, or in the different ways in which the fruits of those studies are shared once the student graduates, have an ecclesial vocation. They too have a responsibility for the flock which is the People of God, which is the local Church (in parish or Diocese), or which is the Universal Church.
Teachers and students of theology come from among the people of God, and go to the people of God, to help them grasp more fully the deeper meaning of the action of God in their lives and in the world. I recall that in the foyer of the ancient theological University in which I studied there is a statue of Christ the Teacher, with the words “Go make disciples”, and those same words are written over the tabernacle in the University Chapel. The final exhortation of Jesus at the end of St Matthew’s Gospel is addressed to us all, but in a most emphatic way to those engaged in the study of theology: “Go therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the Age.” (Matthew 28: 19-20)
When faith seeks understanding, the natural gift of reason is treated most reverently when it used most effectively. The method of theology must reflect the most stringent requirements of academic integrity. The academic standards of the secular universities which have developed over the centuries from those which centuries ago arose out of the heart of the Church need to be met and surpassed by the theological faculties of the Church. We must not trifle with God’s gifts, and especially the gift of reason. But theological faculties need not be intimidated by the narrow secular field of vision that can be encountered in the academic world. Pope Benedict jokes, in one of his writings, that the German secular intellectuals he encountered in his professorial life were puzzled at the existence of two theological faculties at the university at which he taught: why have even one, they mused, to study a reality that does not exist? Theology of the highest academic standards has a rightful place in academia, but its mission encompasses more than academic legitimacy or productivity. Its mission is to help nurture the community it serves.
When the community which is the Church created universities in the Middle Ages for the service of the people of God, the consciousness of ecclesial vocation was strong. Universities are not for self but for other; to use another favourite expression of Pope Francis, they are not to be self-referential. If that communal identity and mission is true of Universities - and for a profound examination of this theme I refer you to “The Idea of a University” by Cardinal Newman - then it is even more true of theological faculties. It is noteworthy that a good portion of Newman’s great work is devoted to insisting on the importance of theological study in any University worthy of the name.
Theology does not exist in a vacuum; it is an ecclesial vocation. Indeed the 1990 Instruction “Donum Veritatis”, of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, is subtitled “On the Ecclesial Vocation of the Theologian.” Referring back to the great commission at the end of the Gospel of Matthew, the Instruction notes that “… the Lord sent forth His apostles to make "disciples" of all nations and teach them (cf. Mt 28:19 f. ). Theology, which seeks the "reasons of faith" and offers these reasons as a response to those seeking them, thus constitutes an integral part of obedience to the command of Christ, for men cannot become disciples if the truth found in the word of faith is not presented to them (cf. Rom 10:14 f.). ” ( Donum Veritatis 7) A key mission of theology is to use the gift of reason to reflect upon the truth of the word of faith, and to offer to fellow disciples and to all people the service of presenting that truth more clearly. This is an ecclesial service, not an self-enclosed intellectual endeavour .
That is why, building on the image used by Pope Francis, I will offer some reflections on the theme of “The Theologian with the Smell of the Sheep.”
II: There are two ways
I have always loved the opening line of the Didache, that great early Christian text. It is even more striking than “It was a dark and stormy night.” The Didache begins: “There are two ways, the way to life, and the way to death, and there is a great difference between them.” We must not be simplistic, but from the blessings and curses of Deuteronomy, to the two paths outlined in Psalm 1, to the beatitudes and woes and the sheep and the goats of the Gospels, to the contrast of Jerusalem and Babylon in the Apocalypse, to the Didache, and beyond that to the Ignatian choosing which standard to follow in life: the highlighting of contrasting paths helps us to navigate through life. Like the dye used in medical tests to reveal what is happening in the body, such artfully constructed contrasts reveal a reality which might otherwise escape recognition.
So here are a few contrasts chosen to reveal something about the ecclesial mission of theologians, and of a theological faculty.
The way of individualism and the way of community. This contrast touches on the idea of an ecclesial vocation. There is a solitary dimension to the scholarly life, and that is both necessary and healthy; the scholar, the theologian, reflects as an individual on what he or she studies. To be fruitful, however, the theological enterprise must be set in a communal context. Obviously, in one sense, that is true of all scholarship: the scholar engages in discussions with colleagues and students, and so refines initial ideas, benefits from the intellectual cross-pollination of scholarly discourse, and must be ready to submit to the critique of scholarly peers. There is a further communal dimension, however, to theological scholarship: the theologian is engaging in the study of the common faith of the Church, and often is preparing laity and clergy for the service of the community of faith. Not only that: in these days theological speculations are communicated instantly, unlike in the past, when professors debated one another Latin in the enclosed context of academia. This communal dimension places a burden of responsibility upon the individual theologian.
The way of abstraction and the way of concreteness. By its very nature, intellectual activity is abstract. It is a matter of ideas. But more than in the case of subjects such as mathematics, theological intellectual activity engages the whole person. We do not live from the neck up. So theological activity, if it is to be fruitful, and truly of service to the community, needs a leavening of experience and a broadening of perspective. Newman was a better theologian because he did not focus entirely on theology, and indeed saw much of his most profound intellectual work as a humble effort to help people in their daily struggles as believers in the midst of an increasingly secular world. The work of the theologian will be fruitful as theology to the degree that the theologian is not simply learned or intellectually brilliant, but is actively engaged, in parish, in family, in the service of the needy, and in the life of the diocese. Engagement in the life of the scholarly community of university or college itself is also, of course important, but the horizon afforded within academia is not, in itself, broad enough to enliven scholarly work in theology. The mixed life, the varied life, the engaged life: these are necessary conditions for fruitful theology.
The way of self-sufficiency and the way of repentant adoration. The primordial flaw of academia is pride. Smart people, and learned people, have to watch out for that. Pride, of course, is the chief of the seven deadly sins, and all of us, no matter what our vocation in life, must battle with it daily, whether it comes in its most harmless form as vainglory or whether it comes more subtly and more dangerously as an unconsciously hardened ego. Among religious folk it can be tinged with the arrogance of the false prophet, when “Thus says the Lord …” gives added legitimacy to the enforcement on others of what are really no more than the dictates of the ego of the prophet. Whether in the pulpit or in the classroom, one can get drunk on the experience of pontificating to others. A writer on preaching describes a preacher finishing a homily, and being told by a parishioner “That was a wonderful homily!” The preacher said “You are the second person to tell me that.” “How can that be? You have just finished speaking.” The preacher replied: “The devil told me first.” Those who are caught in the web of words, and engage in the trade of language and ideas, need to be especially alert to the demon of pride. Pride leads to blindness, to self–absorption, to arrogant posturing, to gossip, to intrigue, to hardness of heart towards the sufferings of others, and to isolation from the wider community and its needs. So, especially because it can have a great effect upon the life of the whole community of faith, theology must be done in a spirit of repentant prayer. Priests are urged to get to confession frequently, for they suffer temptations similar to those of theological scholars. Students and professors of theology should do the same.
III: Models for Theologians
The lives of the saints instruct us, which is why the popes recently have been canonizing more saints. There are many theologian saints who can show us different aspects of how to do theology, conscious of the essential ecclesial context: to be theologians with the smell of the sheep. Here are a few:
Saint Augustine: he was learned, brilliant, and creative, and his writings have shaped western civilization. But theology was not all that he did. His theological writings are profound, not just because of his natural gifts and his diligence, but because he spent a lot of time settling mundane disputes between his parishioners. Some of his most profound writings were sermons preached while he literally sat in the midst of the congregation on Sundays in his cathedral in Hippo.
Saint Teresa of Avila: she was a sublime mystic, and was lifted up in rapture as she prayed. But she also was a hard headed administrator, constant traveller across the plains of Spain, and loving though feisty letter writer, engaged in profound affective friendships with men and women in all states of life. She is a Doctor of the Church, but she did her writing when she could, as a sideline to her day job.
Blessed John Henry Newman: not yet a Doctor of the Church, he did almost all of his writing as a response to pastoral needs. He did not set his own agenda, but used his astonishing intellect and remarkable human sensitivity in the service of individuals and of the Church. I mention sensitivity: it might more accurately be called excessive sensitivity – yet from this human flaw, from this grain of sand in the oyster, Newman by God’s grace produced the pearls of wisdom which he shared with his contemporaries, and continues to share with us. Because in his suffering he knew his own heart, he could see into the hearts of others: Cor ad cor loquitur – heart speaks to heart. He was massively learned, and astonishingly brilliant, but his theological writings were a humble offering of love for God and neighbour. That is why he is great.
III: Implications
Today we celebrate the Convocation of the Theological Faculty of the University of Saint Michael’s College, and congratulate those whose academic achievements we acknowledge with joy. It is indeed a time to rejoice, but also to think deeply of the purpose of the study of theology. A great book on the priesthood by Bishop Sheen is called “The Priest is not his Own”, a sharp reminder to priests that their life finds meaning in humble service of God and neighbour. In a similar way, the scholarly community that forms a theological faculty finds meaning by moving outward, and by adopting a spirit of humble service to the wider community of the Church, which provides the fundamental context within which it lives and flourishes. That spirit of humble engagement of the theologian with the smell of the sheep is what we celebrate above all today, as we hear the prayer of a truly great theologian who understood profoundly the meaning of his intellectual vocation as a servant of the community of faith. Saint Thomas Aquinas writes, in his prayer before study:
Ineffable Creator,
Who, from the treasures of your wisdom,
Have established three hierarchies of angels,
Have arrayed them in marvellous order above the fiery heavens,
And have marshalled the regions of the universe with such artful skill,
You are proclaimed the true font of light and wisdom,
And the primal origin raised high beyond all things.
Pour forth a ray of your brightness into the darkened places of my mind;
Disperse from my soul the twofold darkness into which I was born:
Sin and ignorance.
You make eloquent the tongues of infants.
Refine my speech and pour forth upon my lips the goodness of your blessing.
Grant to me
Keenness of mind,
Capacity to remember,
Skill in learning,
Subtlety to interpret
And eloquence in speech.
May you guide the beginning of my work,
Direct its progress,
And bring it to completion.
You who are true God and true Man,
Who live and reign, world without end. Amen.
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