A Sixth Sense
A Review of Luigi Giussani's The Religious Sense
S. Joel Garver
an earlier version of this review appeared in re:generation quarterly 4:3 (fall 1998)
Not long ago I sat talking with a student on the steps leading to the main quad of the college where I teach. In class we had been analyzing one of Augustine's more complicated arguments for God's existence. The student did not think we could know that God exists, and wondered how so many apparently reasonably people could put their faith in such an unknown being.
In his book, The Religious Sense, newly published in English and the first in a trilogy, Monsignor Luigi Giussani seems convinced that in some way we all already know God. This conviction is the basis of his defense of the reasonableness of faith. Giussani's is not a mere natural theology, based on a human reason standing neutral to God and setting aside any uniquely Christian claims. And it is just as well, for, among others (most notably Karl Barth), I do not find such projects very helpful. Instead, Giussani presents a distinctively Christian picture of the human person as created by God, for God, in whom knowledge of God and self are inextricably linked.
Though often phrased in the terms of twentieth-century existentialism and phenomenology, Giussani's discussion has an informal simplicity and general clarity familiar to readers of Francis Schaeffer, whose writings, like Giussani's, grew out of extensive discussions with young people. Moreover, Giussani's text effectively pulls in snatches of poetry and other literature that illuminate his central points.
The theme is an exploration of what he calls the "religious sense"--the uniquely human sense of openness to God. To Guissani, we are a question to which God alone is the answer. He begins with the nature of reason and knowledge, broadening the concept of reason to embrace the diversity of its objects, the multiplicity of its own procedures, and its essentially ethical component. He continues to explore the structure of the human heart, and concludes that "[o]nly the hypothesis of God, only the affirmation of the mystery as a reality beyond our capacity to fathom entirely, only this hypothesis corresponds to the human person's original structure."
The ultimate question is posed by the very fact of being human. And it is a question to which all respond by "affirming the reality of an 'ultimate'...either consciously and explicitly, or practically and unconsciously." But not all have faith. What is the origin of this unbelief? According to Giussani, "one suppresses the question if one does not admit to the existence of any answer." We have found many ways to avoid the ultimate question: theoretically by philosophy, actively in personal and social projects, practically in various distractions and denials. Giussani faces each of these in turn, concluding that these efforts at evasion result in a loss of any meaning--annulling personality, dismantling communication, leaving the human person in a condition of solitude and slavery.
Unbelief comes from the triumph of preconceptions. Of course, all knowledge involves preconceptions, but proper knowledge also involves openness to asking questions (a point that Gadamer likewise draws). The preconceptions of unbelief, on the other hand, isolate part of reality and absolutize it, cutting us off from true experience of God. They claim for reason the ability to "measure the real, identify, and thus define, what the meaning of everything should be." For Giussani, this is nothing less than idolatry. But idolatry is self-defeating. Idols "do not keep their promises or fulfill their claim to give a total answer."
How, then, can we address unbelief? We must recognize that unbelief "does not lie in the fragility of the reasons, because the entire world is one great reason." Instead, it is a matter of will, attitude, and value. To know God, Giussani suggests, a person must have a sense of awe in dependence upon an "Other," an attraction to the harmonious beauty of the cosmos, an awareness of providence, and a consciousness of good and evil as written on our hearts.
But fallen people cannot easily engage in the attention, acceptance, and risk involved in such reasoning. And this is where Giussani leaves off, pointing to an astonishing possibility: "that God, in some way, should enter human history," to reveal himself to humanity in a manner comprehensible to us, answering the question posed by out nature. The explication of this revelation is the subject of Giussani's next book, At the Origins of the Christian Claim.
Monsignor Giussanis work is a helpful meditation on knowing God, unbelief in our modern world, and the presence of God in human experience. Sometimes I wish he would explain further. In some places I find his prose a bit continental, pedantic, or redundant. And the categories of sin and grace might have furthered his presentation. Nevertheless, Giussani's thoughtful words will no doubt assist intelligent believers to sense God's hand in their own condition and better to articulate that Faith to persons at a time when many are lost in apathy, ideology, and other distractions.
I'm left, however, wondering about my student on the steps. You see, the truly difficult task is not to read a book--arguments only get one so far--but rather to come beside another to tell and be the parable of Gods attractive presence. In the face of the apathy and lifestyle of many of my students, how is one to make the risk of faith seem worthwhile? But that is not the task of a book, but of the life of Gods people together. Giussani, as the founder of the movement Communion and Liberation, knows this too.