You wrote quite a bit there! I did read it all, but I picked just the one point to reply to. If you’d like to revisit or re-mention some other part, I am more than happy to do so.
My apologies. Since my first typing class way back in high school, I’ve been a bit of a keyboard phenom. In my heydey I could sustain well over 100 wpm. Typing at the speed of thought means you get pretty much every random impulse that wanders down my synaptic pathways.
One, you’re frustrated in your search for answers and your process doesn’t seem to be working, maybe you need some combination of patience and a new process.
Perhaps it boiled down to patience. But there I was in the midst of graduate theological studies, which meant I was applying myself to the process pretty much 24x7x365. Three or four iterations down the road I began to chronicly second guess myself on everything. “OK, this is what I believe. But what if I’ve missed some important data?” (that would send my back scouring the school libraries), or “What if I’ve messed up in my calculus?”, or “What if I’ve jammed two puzzle pieces together in the wrong way?”, and so forth.
Two, maybe you’re not very good at this but other people are.
But that sword cuts both ways. On the one hand, I recognize that history and the Church are full of people much better at it all than I was – from the great theologians of history right down to my professors. And yet even they couldn’t seem to agree on anything. So something wasn’t working for them, either.
On the other hand, while I may not be the next Thomas Aquinas, I’m better than 90+% of the pew warmers around me on any given Sunday morning, so if
I can’t get this all figured out, what hope have they? Surely God couldn’t have intended it to be
this hard?
So you stop trying to become one of the experts
See above. I didn’t see that becoming “one of the experts” was going to provide any greater certitude. It wasn’t simply a frustration that something wasn’t working for ME; but that it didn’t appear that anyone else was faring any better. Further, when I raised these concerns with my professors, they didn’t seem to have any better answers than, “That’s just the way it is.” You just have to make your own choices about what you believe. They were, so far as I could tell, comfortable with – or at least resigned to – their state of affairs.
Or number three- you were unable to line up certitude with Truth concerning the questions that are important to you, therefore it cannot possibly be done without direct divine assistance given to a college of cardinals that enjoy supernatural protection from error sometimes.
Well, at that point I wasn’t nearly so far along as “a college of cardinals” or even necessarily “divine protection from error”, but I was rapidly approaching the conclusion that if there was a reliable guide to Truth, wherever or whatever it was, it had to lie somewhere outside of me. Private certitude had failed me often enough that I had abandoned all faith in it; and in any case I was beginning to recognize the utterly subjective nature of private certitude. I was (and am) enough of a Cartesian to believe that the subjective is by nature incapable of being a reliable guide to objective Truth. Though, on the other hand, not enough of an epistemological sceptic to abandon all hope of knowing the Truth.
If all one cares about is subjective certitude, there’s always fundamentalism.
And now, instead of chasing psychological certitude on your own, you have chosen to place your faith in the teachings of the Magisterium … I’m also curious to know if you see yourself as one who’s finally been given a psychological certitude that never needs to be questioned … It seems like you’re trusting an infallible guide to help you have confidence in the certitude you were looking for all the way at the beginning…
Not quite. And this gets to the “certain advantages” I mentioned in a previous post.
If it were simply a matter of abdicating my personal responsibility for the quest for Truth to another (not-more-reliable) entity – that is, if I chose to believe in something like the Magisterium simply as an article of faith because I was weary of the quest – that would amount to little more than fideism, which some argue is in itself a sin.
One of the great advantages of a teaching authority such as the Magisterium is that it functions independent of any individual. By way of analogy, it is much like open-source software. Linus’s Law asserts that, “Given enough eyeballs, all bugs are shallow.” That is, with a large community of experts pouring over every detail, bugs and errors any single individual had failed to see are quickly discovered and fixed. In a sense, then, the Catholic Magisterium is “open-source theology”, which literally billions of Catholic eyeballs have been pouring over for two millennia (give or take a few centuries).
That doesn’t work out to a guarantee of Truth, of course, and I wasn’t nearly so far along as this in my thinking in graduate school. But I had begun to realize that, if any trustworthy guide to Truth did exist (and I didn’t believe in a God who, if he existed, would leave humanity without a way to know it), it must exist independent of any one individual’s psychological certitude.
but it also seems like you’re really down on psychological certitude overall.
Depends. A good Cartesian might argue that ultimately it’s all we have, and on the one hand I’d have to agree. But on the other, relying on subjective certitude as a guide to objective Truth is like having a compass that always points to itself. If I say, “I believe in the Trinity,” and someone asks, “But how do you know you’re correct?” what good does it do to merely reply, “Because I’m certain I’m correct.”?