The Taboo of Contemplationis 06/16/14

The Lonely Ones (1899) by Edvard Munch

There has never been an issue more controversial than contemplation. Not controversial in the sense of making news headlines or anything of that sort. Most people, in fact, would not put the controversy in those terms. They might gossip about close relatives or associates who bear that term's characteristic form, saying something like, "What's he doing studying philosophy or reading literature? Kid needs to get a job." A Logic professor once stated that he would start conversing about Descartes' epistemological skepticism in order to privately shoo away people he didn't like. But why the controversy? Something so benign and unobtrusive ought not to attract as much private attention as it does in the minds of many. So what is contemplation, really? And what does it have to do with religion, if there's any connection at all?

Contemplation specifically refers to an intellectual habit typically involving God as its object. And it doesn't have to be God. The habit often involves speculating about His effects in history through His Church or about His creation: humans, angels, and the like. Most of the time, and with most people, contemplation will take on more secular forms: reading poetry, solving math puzzles, performing science experiments, etc. So contemplation will take on those natural forms, but there's also another kind that is altogether unique and distinct. This is what the Catholic tradition calls infused contemplation. Infused contemplation is an intellectual habits of ours where, instead of being acquired through our own efforts, is infused into our souls by God with our cooperation. The effects of this divine infusion come through in what the saints call a sublime gaze of our Lord, a perfect--so far as possible--union with God at the deepest level of the soul. The Carthusian order, for instance, one of the more strict religious orders in the world, clearly states that high mission in all caps: "The only goal of the Carthusian way is CONTEMPLATION, by the power of the Spirit, living as unceasingly as possible in the light of the love of God for us, made manifest in Christ." (The Carthusian Order). Through their lives of austerity (viz. fasting, watching, solitude, and intense prayer), they achieve their order's sublime purpose.

But what do those outside religion, and outside of monotheism for the most part, have to say about contemplation? Aristotle, pre-Hellenistic pagan philosopher, locates contemplation as that activity which is most distinctive of human happiness and fulfillment:

If happiness is activity in accordance with virtue, it is reasonable that it should be in accordance with the highest virtue; and this will be that of the best thing in us. Whether it be reason or something else that is this element which is thought to be our natural ruler and guide and to take thought of things noble and divine, whether it be itself also divine or only the most divine element in us, the activity of this in accordance with its proper virtue will be perfect happiness. That this activity is contemplative we have already said. (Nichomachean Ethics, Book X, Chapter 7)

Aristotle finds that the telos or goal of the human agent lies chiefly in contemplation because of man's rational nature. That's his function. And though man busies himself with noble and praiseworthy tasks, like fighting wars and working a nine-to-five job for his family, these are only secondary modes of happiness. These activities are performed for the sake of something else, which was already implied. Plato, moreover, thought that through contemplation the soul may ascend to knowledge of the Form of the Good or other divine Forms, allegorizing it in The Republic (viz. "Allegory of the Cave"):

No question, he said. This entire allegory, I said, you may now append, dear Glaucon, to the previous argument; the prison-house is the world of sight, the light of the fire is the sun, and you will not misapprehend me if you interpret the journey upwards to be the ascent of the soul into the intellectual world according to my poor belief, which, at your desire, I have expressed whether rightly or wrongly God knows. But, whether true or false, my opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last of all, and is seen only with an effort; and, when seen, is also inferred to be the universal author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light and of the lord of light in this visible world, and the immediate source of reason and truth in the intellectual; and that this is the power upon which he who would act rationally, either in public or private life must have his eye fixed… Whereas, our argument shows that the power and capacity of learning exists in the soul already; and that just as the eye was unable to turn from darkness to light without the whole body, so too the instrument of knowledge can only by the movement of the whole soul be turned from the world of becoming into that of being, and learn by degrees to endure the sight of being, and of the brightest and best of being, or in other words, of the good. (Book VII)

Flammarion engraving (1888) by Anonymous

Both religious and non-religious traditions praise the contemplative dimension as the highest beatitude for the human person. Yet, both traditions also recognize that most people tend to shun that sublime calling. They tend to judge by the senses and see that those who are most happy are those with wealth or honor. Those who manage others rather than those who manage themselves are those to whom the hoi polloi give undue praise. Yet, they are right in saying that our lives cannot be completely dedicated to praying, studying, and the like. We're not celestial, self-sufficient beings who can manage that kind of life completely. We have sensuous--if you want to call it that--needs that need to be met, but what gives? We ought to still try to create a larger sphere in our lives for contemplation. This fulfills us now--to the degree that we can achieve it--and transforms us in the end.

Two Men Observing the Moon (1819-1820) by Caspar David Friedrich