Faith and Reason: How the College General Education Curriculum Is Fundamental for a Catholic Renewal

The Death of Socrates by Jacques-Louis David

At last I went to the artisans, for I was conscious that I knew nothing at all, as I may say, and I was sure that they knew many fine things; and in this I was not mistaken, for they did know many things of which I was ignorant, and in this they certainly were wiser than I was. But I observed that even the good artisans fell into the same error as the poets; because they were good workmen they thought that they also knew all sorts of high matters, and this defect in them overshadowed their wisdom. . . .
Apology of Socrates, 22c–22d

The idols of the nations are silver and gold, the work of human hands. They have mouths but speak not; they have eyes but see not; they have ears but hear not; no breath is in their mouths. Their makers shall be like them, all who trust in them.
Psalm 135, 15–18

Faith and reason are like two wings on which the human spirit rises to the contemplation of truth; and God has placed in the human heart a desire to know the truth — in a word, to know himself — so that, by knowing and loving God, men and women may also come to the fullness of truth about themselves.
St. John Paul II, Fides et ratio (14 Sept. 1998), preface

Privileged to work in higher education, especially in matters involving the general education curriculum, I recently had a chance to re-read the seminal document given to the Church by Pope St. John Paul II, which passed its twenty-sixth anniversary last year, Fides et ratio (issued 14 September 1998). John Paul had been emphasizing a message to the University world since the very beginning of his pontificate. On all of his many foreign trips he made a point of speaking to a university audience, at a Catholic university if possible, or at least to university students and faculty, even if not at a university site. He had issued two apostolic constitutions affecting Church universities, faculties, and institutes: Sapientia Christiana (15 April 1979) and Ex Corde Ecclesiae (15 August 1990). Following the Second Vatican Council, he wanted to re-establish the University and its crucial role of leadership in world as well as Christian civilization, and he saw this task as strategically central to his role even as Pope and Successor of Peter. He emphasized many times that “the way of the Church” goes by way of the family, but also, one can see that his pontificate is a testament to the conviction that “the way of the Church” also goes by way of culture, which itself lives in and proceeds from the University. And so, the occasion in which he comprehensively collected the fullest meditation and teaching on the University was in this encyclical, addressed to bishops, the pastors and authorities in the Church, during that several-year period of preparation that he had requested of Church members prior to the coming of the new millennium.

At the very beginning of this work, indicating that it really was addressed to the whole world (although formally to Catholic bishops), he cites not only the usual Greek philosophers (Plato and Aristotle), but also, among others, Confucius, Lao-Tze, and Buddha.¹ The “quest for meaning” is a universal desire of the human heart and mind, and the Gospel, of which he was a leading proclaimer and spokesman, has something to say to this desire. Indeed, “through the Paschal Mystery” of Christ, the Church “received the gift of the ultimate truth about human life,” (FR, 2) and so she has a duty to witness to the truth which she has received even while proceeding with the rest of humanity “toward that fullness of truth which will appear with the final revelation of God.” (FR, 2)

The most important tool or means that humanity has to take part in this quest is philosophy. But philosophy as a discipline has become impoverished in the past several centuries by losing both its “wonder” in seeking to learn and discover the answer to “life’s meaning” and, related to this lowering of its vision, by focusing on the limitations and weaknesses in “the human capacity to know the truth.” (FR, 3, 4, 5) Less desire for its lofty object results in self-criticism. Can humans really know the truth? How effective is our faculty for knowing? So, in a way, John Paul II is exhorting philosophers to reclaim the preeminence of their field. Philosophy is not to be identified with one or another philosophical school, but rather with “the primacy of philosophical enquiry.” (FR, 4; stress in original) Furthermore, there are some philosophical principles — he mentions “the principles of non-contradiction, finality, and causality, as well as the concept of the person as a free and intelligent subject, with the capacity to know God, truth, and goodness.” (FR, 4) These keep philosophy rigorous and able to discover genuine knowledge. Philosophy need not fall back into a dependence on, or mixture of itself with, myth, with which it was connected earlier in humanity’s development.

And so philosophy, if it again lifts its eyes up to the mystery, hints, or “signs” (FR, 13) of which human reason becomes aware, can guide the human person to discover truth with finality: “It is unthinkable that a search so deeply rooted in human nature would be completely vain and useless.” (FR, 29) John Paul cites St. Paul at the beginning of the First Letter to the Corinthians² as identifying the “the true keypoint, which challenges every philosophy, . . . Jesus Christ’s death on the cross.” (FR, 23) Hinting perhaps how the death of Socrates is foundational for the development of Greek philosophy in the thought of Plato and Aristotle, John Paul observes, “The preaching of Christ crucified and risen is the reef upon which the link between faith and philosophy can break up, but it is also the reef beyond which the two can set forth upon the boundless ocean of truth. Here we see not only the border between reason and faith, but also the space where the two may meet.” (FR, 23) The meaning of human life points beyond itself, when it is sacrificed, to something greater.

Thus, philosophy (and all knowledge) should be open to answers that come from a source beyond and above human reason. Belief is not unreasonable, and humans (realistically) believe in the knowledge offered by trusted sources all of the time:

. . . there are in the life of a human being many more truths which are simply believed than truths which are acquired by way of personal verification. Who, for instance, could assess critically the countless scientific findings upon which modern life is based? Who could personally examine the flow of information which comes day after day from all parts of the world and which is generally accepted as true? (FR, 31)

Belief that is based on a trusted personal relationship can validly reveal truth. And God, with whom we can have a personal relationship, as revealed in the life of Christ, can be trusted. The truth of philosophy also does not contradict the truth offered by belief.

John Paul considers and analyzes several of the problems that have beset philosophy, and beyond it, the many sciences which have branched out from it over the past several centuries. Singling out the natural sciences for praise, because of their outstanding accomplishments, but also for blame, he suggests that they exemplify the excessive fragmentation which has especially contributed to the intellectual and academic ills that he is targeting: “Perspectives on life and the world, often of a scientific temper, have so proliferated that we face an increasing fragmentation of knowledge. This makes the search for meaning difficult and often fruitless.” (FR, 81) Philosophy should assist all the sciences as a whole to overcome the rigid boundaries which deaden the search for deeper meaning. By recovering its own original character, it

will be not only the decisive critical factor which determines the foundations and limits of the different fields of scientific learning, but will take its place as the ultimate framework of the unity of human knowledge and action, leading them to converge toward a final goal and meaning. (FR, 81; also 85)

More detailed knowledge and specialization, which have produced great scholarly and practical results, should not obscure an education which leads to deeper understanding of purpose, meaning, and mystery.

So, how can teachers and educators implement these insights? The most important substantive and meaningful way that a college creates an imprint on its students and faculty is the general education curriculum, or core curriculum, which students are required to take in order, along with a major (which could include more than one), to fulfill the requirements of a baccalaureate degree. This is the most important way that the school creates a community, a shared experience, among students (who will specialize in a plethora of different majors) and faculty (who will perhaps teach the core curriculum in addition to their specialties). This shared experience — sharing in a common way of seeking and witnessing the truth — will also exemplify the mission of that particular university, whether church-affiliated (and, further, if associated with a religious community, such as the Jesuits, Benedictines, or Franciscans, etc.), or public (and if public, connected to the identity of a state or a region, etc.), or private and nonsectarian, etc. This is where the mission is most obviously illustrated. This is where that particular community of scholars comes to share and grow in the vision of its founders, and its community and thinkers over time. But all of these particular communities are studying to discover and understand the same truth. Their variety of perspectives even contributes to a certain dynamism in the search for truth.

General Ed./Core Curriculum Credit Hours

Reflecting upon my greatly varied experience in my own professional life in higher education, I started to compare the core curricula or general ed. requirements in the four very different schools at which I have worked. Only one of them has truly corresponded to the inspiring call of Fides et ratio that I heard as a graduate student working on a doctoral dissertation in the late 1990s. Before building a thriving university in southern Florida, the Ave Maria Foundation had (among other things, including building a law school, initially in Michigan) affiliated with St. Mary’s College, the undergraduate school associated with the Polish seminary (formally known as the Orchard Lake Schools in Orchard Lake, Michigan), which historically had recruited, educated, and provided priests for Polish ethnic Catholic parishes in the United States and Canada from 1885 until the post-World War II era. Following the Ave Maria Foundation mission, this college, under a committed new leadership,³ formed a special faculty committee which compiled a new core curriculum specifically responding to several ideas presented by John Paul II in his document.

It is noteworthy that the most distinctive element of the St. Mary’s Core Curriculum, not present in the other three, was a three-course requirement in philosophy. And the particular philosophy courses themselves were devoted to educating students in philosophical enquiry, which has primacy over an education in philosophical systems, or any particular philosophical approach.⁴ Next, a basic three-course theology requirement would give students the foundation for understanding Revelation. Because all students would have the same philosophical grounding, the theology education could be built by theology faculty with the “tools” which philosophy at its best offers the human search for truth.

Another key element was the interdisciplinary seminars, focused on great works encountered in their historical chronology (Ancient World, Medieval World, and Modern World: freshman, sophomore, and junior years). They especially broke down the rigidity and fragmentation of academic disciplines for the students and allowed them to see that the pursuit of truth is unified. Disciplines do not “compete” against each other. Science is not hostile to theology. Theology does not limit or constrain art and the work of human aesthetic creativity. Philosophy and science can acknowledge non-empirical ways of discovering knowledge. The seminars were team-taught by two professors from different academic disciplines and were focused on reading great works written during the period covered by the seminar. Students would witness directly how faculty could discuss and teach these works from alternate disciplinary perspectives. Students could and would test concepts from the foundational philosophy and theology courses in the sort-of “laboratory” provided by the seminar. In practice, the cohort nature of the seminars and small class sizes created a genuine community among students and faculty, and a real esprit de corps within the College.

Some of the other components of the Core Curriculum were analogous to normal areas covered in any core curriculum such as writing, natural science, and mathematics. But faculty teaching these courses adjusted their presentations to integrate with the “Fides et ratio” structure and spirit of the rest of the curriculum.

Finally, in recognition of the “Renaissance man” qualities of John Paul II himself, a senior capstone course was envisaged which could integrate with various majors. According to the catalog description:

Its goal is to allow students to achieve a full integration of faith and life and to view their major or their professional interest from a theological perspective. Every student will study the thought of Pope John Paul II. Topics include John Paul II on human rights; business ethics and the morality of markets; the medical profession in light of John Paul II on The Gospel of Life; psychology and models of the human person in light of John Paul II’s Redemptor Hominis; John Paul II on science and technology; John Paul II on art and literature; John Paul II on faith and reason; and the teaching profession in light of John Paul II on education.⁵

Thus, again, faculty from different disciplines would teach their majors with this curriculum philosophy, inspired by John Paul II, in a position of overall intellectual leadership in the school. Academic specializations would be in harmony (or would at least strive for it).

Sad to say, the program would not last. Ave Maria University relocated to Florida and the affiliation with St. Mary’s College came to an end. The Ave Maria Foundation awarded a substantial grant to St. Mary’s College as part of a new affiliation with another local Catholic university, Madonna University, which shared common roots, through the Felician Sisters, with the founder of St. Mary’s College.⁶ The Catholic Integrated Core Curriculum (CICC), as it was known, was continued for a time, but, soon thereafter, the Madonna University leadership decided to end the program. The CICC did not have the option to move to Florida, since it belonged to St. Mary’s College.

Madonna University’s decision is understandable. Faculty of the CICC possibly did not want to become one (of many) options as a distinct program of Madonna University. That is one way that several Catholic universities, in fact, responded to Fides et ratio: by creating “Catholic studies” programs. But this can be seen as in conflict, really, with Fides et ratio, the purpose of which was to animate the entire spirit of the curriculum and common search for truth of the University. The dialogue of faith and reason cannot only be confined to one niche-type program.

And by examining the core curriculum of Madonna University,⁷ we can see important differences with the CICC of St. Mary’s College. There is no philosophy requirement at all. The analogue of theology courses are really religious studies courses. There is no required inter-disciplinarity, and no integration of the disciplines with an intellectual perspective open to faith. The amount of coursework in the core curriculum is much less, due to pressure from students to allow more time for multiple majors, geared toward greater professional options and success. The Madonna University core curriculum is understandable as the product of a community which pays some respect to its heritage within the broad Franciscan family, but with no overall Catholic leadership of the curriculum.

Another portion of my professional life has been in public colleges in the Commonwealth of Virginia. As might be expected, the focus is very different again. I have served in both a four-year liberal arts college (the University of Virginia College at Wise) and a community college (Danville Community College) within the Virginia Community College System (VCCS). Neither have philosophy, theology, or even religious studies requirements. While the community college ethos is more responsive to pressure to keep general education limited, due to pressure from students who want to emphasize professional preparation, the four-year college⁸ emphasizes catering to student choice. Real interdisciplinarity is not present, but students are encouraged to choose from different options especially in arts and humanities fields. Subjective preferences are encouraged. Looking inward is more emphasized than looking outward and upward (in a metaphysical way). Instead of creating community, this philosophy of education is likely to produce division. It reinforces the bias of the overall culture toward atomistic individualism. The two great dangers on the horizon for these types of schools will be that of Socrates’ artisans, who know a great deal about their trades but also think they understand serious matters, and that of those who create false gods, who are gods for their creators only because they were chosen by individual preferences.

So, how can we get out of this dead end? When matters are difficult, inertia usually triumphs. But it triumphs only in the absence of real crisis. Small and medium-sized Catholic colleges, like all such schools, are facing serious enrollment pressure. With the 18-year-old population in many areas not increasing, and with a reduction in student enrollments from abroad, colleges and universities reliant on tuition revenue are now competing against each other for students. Private institutions also have no taxpayer-supported revenue to supplement tuition revenue. Their tuitions are often higher than other nearby public options. From the point of view of the student, why attend the more expensive Catholic school? There has to be something to be gained from that extra sacrifice. But if the school is mostly like other public institutions, what is that?

Pope St. John Paul II foresaw that the University, especially the Catholic University, like so many other parts of the Church after the Second Vatican Council, had to reform and restore itself on basic foundations. In Fides et ratio he addressed the world’s bishops, because he knew that the task would be long and would require cooperation over a multiyear period. The bishops are the Church’s authorities who can sustain support for long-term goals for the good of the Church. It would also require support from religious communities, particularly those which had colleges and universities within their religious families. Ideally, the Successor of Peter himself would be able to keep this large project in his vision over time. But even John Paul II was slowing down a bit by 1998, and a vast program of events and trips was on his horizon for ushering in the next millennium and the Jubilee Year of AD 2000.

Fides et ratio did set off, for a few years, a period of thought and (limited) creative efforts among some Catholic colleges and universities, but not the majority. Other problems and issues have crowded out the somewhat abstract issue of strengthening the Catholic mission of schools by restructuring curriculum. Most religious orders which have colleges and universities in their ministry have not assumed a leadership role in this movement. As the years have gone on, the glow and afterglow of the Millennium Jubilee have faded, and usual mundane preoccupations have again assumed the focus of attention.

Ultimately, the strengthening of higher education is necessary for society as a whole. Without a remake of the Catholic university, the higher education world in general has become a locus of either magnified emphasis on serving economic growth (“having more” rather than “being more”) or political-cultural conflict rather than a community focused on the higher faculties of the human person and the hope to which he is called. This remake is necessary for evangelization by the Church, since the Church passes by way of culture which passes by way of the University. But necessary reform probably cannot take place in a piecemeal fashion. It requires a bold and strong leadership commitment.

This year of 2025 is another Jubilee Year in the Church, a jubilee dedicated to hope. Hope looks ahead to the good that can be achieved but has not yet been achieved. It therefore inspires us to make or construct that good. Seeing all the false hopes surrounding us in society, the real but often meaningless divisions, and yet the genuine needs calling out for attention that are ignored, perhaps we can once again turn to healing the culture, which grows out of the University. The foundation of this effort would be the general education curriculum which builds the community of the University, uniting the present with the past, and looking to form future generations in that community.