The Maritains And The Perennial Philosophy
By JOHN YOUNG
Two young people sat in the Jardin des Plantes in Paris and reached a decision: If they could not find a meaning in life, they would commit suicide while still young. They were students at the Sorbonne at the beginning of the twentieth century, and the philosophy they encountered there seemed to lead to the conclusion that life is meaningless.
Their names were Raissa Oumansoff and Jacques Maritain. They found what they were looking for in Catholicism, particularly as manifested in the lives of the saints. Jacques Maritain later became one of the best philosophers in the twentieth century, an eminent follower of St. Thomas Aquinas.
What would have become of them had they never escaped from the materialism of the Sorbonne? Of course we don’t know, but the outlook was bleak. And it was bleak then and still is in major secular universities. When Raissa confided to one of her professors that she was seeking through philosophy to know the deep meaning of things, he was horrified and exclaimed: “But that’s mysticism!”
They were led away from materialism through attending the lectures of Henri Bergson, a very impressive lecturer. (Archbishop Fulton Sheen relates an occasion when he was leaving the lecture hall after listening to Bergson, and an American woman said to him: “Wasn’t he wonderful!” He got into conversation with her and found she didn’t understand French. Sheen’s comment was: “She hadn’t understood a word Bergson said, but she still thought he was wonderful!”)
After their conversion to Catholicism, Raissa, following the advice of her spiritual director, began reading the Summa Theologiae of St. Thomas Aquinas, and she speaks of the trepidation with which she began. Surely even the Prince of the Schoolmen would throw some dust on their new faith! She describes her reaction as she read.
“From the very first pages I understood the emptiness, the childishness of my fears. Everything, here, was freedom of spirit, purity of faith, integrity of the intellect enlightened by knowledge and genius” (Raissa Maritain: Adventures in Grace, p. 182).
That response shows the character of her mind. Most cradle Catholics, whom one might expect to be more attuned to the thought of St. Thomas, would think him too abstract at their first reading.
Many young people, seeking the truth, are still today in the same situation as the Maritains: They are confronted with skepticism and tempted to think that there is no ultimate truth. Especially in philosophy, the typical courses in the typical university lead away from the truth.
I attended an open day at a university, and the vice chancellor asserted in his welcoming speech that the university student should begin by questioning every proposition — including that one!
The result of this attitude, and the opinion that there is no ultimate truth, is that instead of being educated the university student is de-educated. The natural commonsense truths which should provide the framework for a deeper understanding are instead weakened by skepticism.
Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) foresaw the coming of a universal skepticism affecting, however, only the learned. We are not too far from that today, except that with universal education it is not only “the learned” but the whole population who are affected. And Kant’s philosophy shares a large part of the blame. People accept the ordinary realities of everyday life but the thinking of most lacks a solid foundation, so when questions arise about the deeper realities, such as the existence of God and questions of morality, most people easily become uncertain.
It should be clear to everyone, for example, that abortion is intrinsically evil, and therefore always wrong, but most people are uncertain of this or deny it (and are uncomfortable if the question is raised).
In 1936 a young philosopher, A.J. Ayer, published the very influential book Language, Truth, and Logic, in which he argued that our minds are incapable of getting beyond sense knowledge. So if we claim to think about a Being beyond all sense knowledge we are mistaken. That is, our minds are incapable of forming an idea of such a Being.
So he concludes that theism, atheism, and agnosticism are equally nonsensical. To illustrate Ayer’s position: A dog is not a theist, an agnostic, or an atheist: It can’t have these concepts. And neither can we if we have only sense knowledge.
I heard a lecture by a university professor who claimed, correctly, that much modern philosophy rules out questions such as the existence and nature of God. And this is because, according to that philosophy, our minds are incapable of handling those questions.
So the dilemma about ultimate questions confronting the young Jacques and Raissa continues today, and young people seeking the truth are exposed to the same uncertainties. The Maritains found the answer in the scholastic philosophy of which St. Thomas Aquinas is the greatest Master.
But they came to it through their study of the saints, through the holiness shining in the lives of those who have given themselves wholeheartedly to Christ.
Jacques Maritain’s best work, I believe, is in metaphysics and philosophical psychology, not in social science. And after Vatican II, particularly in his work The Peasant of the Garonne, he deals well with the theological disruptions in the Catholic Church due to the distortions of the teachings of Vatican II.
I owe him a great debt for the enlightenment I got from the first book of philosophy that I read: Maritain’s Introduction to Philosophy. It is not an easy book for beginners but is well worth the effort.
Jacques and Raissa came to the Faith through the holiness shown in the lives of the saints, and near the end of his life, after Raissa and her sister Vera had died, he said: “I have lived with two saints.
