My favorite theologian is Hans Urs von Balthasar. Being an artist, I've always been attracted to the beautiful and that's what I love about Balthasar. He says that yes God is Truth and Goodness, but He is also Beauty Incarnate . . . Love Incarnate.
As Fr. John Cihak stated . . .
"Talk of truth is often met with a yawn, and an assertion about what is good is met with a stare of incomprehension. Darkened to what is true and good, the post-modern heart is still captivated by beauty revealing love, and this may be the road to Christ for many citizens of the post-modern world."*
This is an elaborate echo of Dostoevsky's famously captivating line: "The world will be saved through beauty."
The fact that God is beautiful vivifies and engages the senses in the theological conversation (and conversion) that illuminates the Truth and Goodness of God revealing their Union with their sister Beauty. Balthasar's theology embraces the entire theologian, the entire human person, in order to bring him to fruition in terms of his thought, his prayer, and his love. In Seeing the Form (the the first volume of his 15 volume magnum opus that recapitulates enough cultural, theological, and philosophical material to crumble most bookshelves under its weight) Balthasar states . . .
"We no longer dare to believe in beauty and we make of it a mere appearance in order the more easily to dispose of it. Our situation today shows that beauty demands for itself at least as much courage and decision as do truth and goodness, and she will not allow herself to be separated and banned from her two sisters without taking them along with herself in an act of mysterious vengeance. We can be sure that whoever sneers at her name as if she were the ornament of a bourgeois past — whether he admits it or not — can no longer pray and soon will no longer be able to love." (p. 18)
Though he is apparently overwhelming in his scope and depth, he is thoughtfully energetic and inspiring, as though he were a marathon runner encouraging you ever step of your way on an afternoon jog. I would gladly take 200 pgs of Balthasar of 30 pgs of some theologians I've come by in my studies. He is work would be daunting if it were not for the conciseness and agility of his thought and his creative and quotable delivery. But what results is a progression of thought that is exponentially broad and deep which disposes the theologian to contemplation. Personally the wonder Balthasar inspires in me, reminds me that theology is as St. Anslem described it fides quarens intellectum or "faith seeking understanding," as he engenders faith that embraces his intellectum joyously.
Today in his Love Alone is Credible I swear Hans was praying for me. For the first time in my history of studying German, I read something within a scholarly without needing a dictionary, and kept on going edified and delighted (the grammar was a little odd, but I got it pretty quick). He quoted a poem both beautiful and lyrical . . .
"Wird Christus tausendmal zu Bethelem geboren
Und nicht in dir, du bleibst doch ewiglich verloren . . .
Das Kreuz zu Golgotha kann dich nicht von dem Bösen,
Wo es nicht auch in dir wird aufgericht', erlösen."**
Or translated . . .
"If Christ were born a thousand times in Bethlehem,
but not in you, you would remain lost forever . . .
The Cross on Golgotha cannot redeem you from evil,
if it is not raised up also in you."
Here I just wanted to talk about how happy I was that I read nice chunk of German poetry (Gedichte) fluently in a scholarly work, and off I went spilling digital ink in the name of Beauty. Sounds like something Hans would do.
Anyway, he's a man of towering intellect and culture, but his theology is so lovingly, prayerfully, and creatively crafted that these truths can be accessible to anyone with a little translation.
Tübingen Wörter
I. die Wahrnehmung: Perception (literally: "from where one takes their truth")
II. sich verlieren (verlor, verloren): to wander off, to be lost.
*My thanks to the blog Love Alone is Believable for bringing this quote to my attention.
**Notice how the verb erlösen (to save/ransom/deliver) was put off until the end of the sentence. This does several things I. It's grammatically correct II. It keeps the rhyme and rhythm in tact III. It causes a bit of suspense, where one can ponder "What can't the Cross do to Evil in me?" only to have salvation be the last resounding word in the line. The imagery of the poem is self is captivating (Raising the Cross of Golgotha in oneself) but the rhythm reinforces the theology in a very pleasing and edifying form.
No comments:
Post a Comment