I had not seen this phrase since graduate school days. Unlearned ignorance is a phrase from the late-medieval theologian, Nicholas of Cusa. Nicolas was a bridge figure---culminating the end of the medieval period and representative of the emerging Renaissance and Reformation period. And unlike much of medieval theology, Nicholas still has something to say to us in the twenty-first century. I met up with him again in an article I was reading in a periodical I routinely read. The article was called, “Nurturing the cosmic perspective of learned ignorance,” by Alex Mikulich.
This article fits in with my quest to continue to learn more about the world of science and, thus, to be a reasonable conversationalist with my contemporary scientists. Too often, people of faith are incredibly ignorant of the science of our day and, therefore, increasingly irrelevant to important discussions going on in our world. And too often, people of faith arrogantly dismiss science as irrelevant. The irony is too much!
And so I resonate with the opening words of Mikulich when he laments, “One piece of the conundrum we are in as a society is that we have lost a sense of wonder about our true role in the whole of the cosmos. Instead of nurturing wonder at our place within the cosmos, we tend to assume, arrogantly, that we are at its center. This arrogance blinds us to the multiple ways that we are destroying ourselves and the whole fabric of life.” When someone talks about self-destruction, I listen.
And so it was, Mikulich soon came to the thoughts of Nicholas of Cusa. Nicholas was concerned about a comparable ignorance in his own time and its twin, arrogance. He “called this self-centered arrogance "unlearned ignorance," the ignorance of those who trust in their human intelligence and who, through pride and presumptuousness, close themselves off to the path of divine wisdom. This is the worst form of ignorance because it represents a smug knowing that cuts itself off from the divine origin of life itself.” The phrase, unlearned ignorance, calls for a little analysis.
Of course, the key word here is “ignorance.” Literally, ignorance means “not to know.” The irony is ignorant folks often think they know! The problem is what the ignorant think they know is not really knowledge----or it is knowledge that is not sufficient or deep enough for a particular situation. A good example of that is our round earth. Probably none of us really experiences the earth as round. I drive down the highway, assuming the flatness of the earth. This assumption is unlearned ignorance.
Of course, many of us now have seen pictures of the earth from space. We “know” the earth is round. We have learned things to be true, that we may have no direct experience that seems to corroborate this knowledge that the earth actually is round. In so doing we know experience what Nicholas of Cusa calls “learned ignorance.” Let’s circle back and listen to him teach us.
Nicholas portrays learned ignorance “as a step toward understanding our true role in the cosmos. It means recognizing oneself as ignorant in relationship to the infinity of divine truth and it invites a spirituality of humility.” We can unpack these couple sentences and be led further into the process of learning that befits our age. It is clear ignorance is still the noun. But the adjective has changed. Now it is “learned” ignorance. We realize we are ignorant of everything, but we have learned we know some things and we know we don’t know everything. This replaces arrogance with humility.
I notice some verbs in the last couple sentences from Nicholas. We “recognize” ourselves as ignorant---at least in relationship to the infinity of divine truth. And this recognition “invites” a spirituality of humility. I am attracted to a spirituality of humility. It does not mean I give up hope that I can learn, but it nevertheless invites me into a spirituality of knowing I am in a position of learned ignorance.
Mikulich offers the exciting finishing touch from Nicholas of Cusa. He says, “Ultimately, Nicholas argues that there is a third form of ignorance that retains a deep sense of human finitude and unknowing, as with learned ignorance, but it gains mature illumination through the sight of another. This illumination is the work of grace, God's seeing Godself in and through us, and indeed through the whole of the cosmos.” I like the idea of mature illumination. That is an appropriate form of knowing and one worth human aspiration.
I love that mature illumination is a matter of grace. That befits God and asks that we be humble enough to be able to accept a gift---for that is what grace is. This kind of divine enlightenment---illumination---enables us to understand ourselves cosmically. We are the vehicles of God’s presence. In and through us God is seen. We are revealers of the creative and illuminating God and that is exciting news.
In humility I pray to be delivered from unlearned ignorance.
This article fits in with my quest to continue to learn more about the world of science and, thus, to be a reasonable conversationalist with my contemporary scientists. Too often, people of faith are incredibly ignorant of the science of our day and, therefore, increasingly irrelevant to important discussions going on in our world. And too often, people of faith arrogantly dismiss science as irrelevant. The irony is too much!
And so I resonate with the opening words of Mikulich when he laments, “One piece of the conundrum we are in as a society is that we have lost a sense of wonder about our true role in the whole of the cosmos. Instead of nurturing wonder at our place within the cosmos, we tend to assume, arrogantly, that we are at its center. This arrogance blinds us to the multiple ways that we are destroying ourselves and the whole fabric of life.” When someone talks about self-destruction, I listen.
And so it was, Mikulich soon came to the thoughts of Nicholas of Cusa. Nicholas was concerned about a comparable ignorance in his own time and its twin, arrogance. He “called this self-centered arrogance "unlearned ignorance," the ignorance of those who trust in their human intelligence and who, through pride and presumptuousness, close themselves off to the path of divine wisdom. This is the worst form of ignorance because it represents a smug knowing that cuts itself off from the divine origin of life itself.” The phrase, unlearned ignorance, calls for a little analysis.
Of course, the key word here is “ignorance.” Literally, ignorance means “not to know.” The irony is ignorant folks often think they know! The problem is what the ignorant think they know is not really knowledge----or it is knowledge that is not sufficient or deep enough for a particular situation. A good example of that is our round earth. Probably none of us really experiences the earth as round. I drive down the highway, assuming the flatness of the earth. This assumption is unlearned ignorance.
Of course, many of us now have seen pictures of the earth from space. We “know” the earth is round. We have learned things to be true, that we may have no direct experience that seems to corroborate this knowledge that the earth actually is round. In so doing we know experience what Nicholas of Cusa calls “learned ignorance.” Let’s circle back and listen to him teach us.
Nicholas portrays learned ignorance “as a step toward understanding our true role in the cosmos. It means recognizing oneself as ignorant in relationship to the infinity of divine truth and it invites a spirituality of humility.” We can unpack these couple sentences and be led further into the process of learning that befits our age. It is clear ignorance is still the noun. But the adjective has changed. Now it is “learned” ignorance. We realize we are ignorant of everything, but we have learned we know some things and we know we don’t know everything. This replaces arrogance with humility.
I notice some verbs in the last couple sentences from Nicholas. We “recognize” ourselves as ignorant---at least in relationship to the infinity of divine truth. And this recognition “invites” a spirituality of humility. I am attracted to a spirituality of humility. It does not mean I give up hope that I can learn, but it nevertheless invites me into a spirituality of knowing I am in a position of learned ignorance.
Mikulich offers the exciting finishing touch from Nicholas of Cusa. He says, “Ultimately, Nicholas argues that there is a third form of ignorance that retains a deep sense of human finitude and unknowing, as with learned ignorance, but it gains mature illumination through the sight of another. This illumination is the work of grace, God's seeing Godself in and through us, and indeed through the whole of the cosmos.” I like the idea of mature illumination. That is an appropriate form of knowing and one worth human aspiration.
I love that mature illumination is a matter of grace. That befits God and asks that we be humble enough to be able to accept a gift---for that is what grace is. This kind of divine enlightenment---illumination---enables us to understand ourselves cosmically. We are the vehicles of God’s presence. In and through us God is seen. We are revealers of the creative and illuminating God and that is exciting news.
In humility I pray to be delivered from unlearned ignorance.
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