I frequently question, implicitly and explicitly, whether philosophy and the life of the mind are worthwhile pursuits, both in themselves and for purposes of life. They take effort and sacrifice, offer no guarantees of success or even answers to their questions, and to boot are frequently met with disapproval, jealousy, or animosity. There are at times strong social incentives to just go along, to not discuss, to not inquire. I hope I am not a beast, and I am certainly not a god. So, I am embedded in this our human life and frequently give in to its demands and temptations. And so, I get caught up in my sorrows and the hurly burly of daily affairs. I tuck the questions away in the closets of my mind, under blankets of troubles, lusts, vanities, and distractions.

And yet, after I have spent some time away from philosophy and then find myself confronted with it, it is like being presented with a beatific vision. Confronted with the nobility of the pursuit of the highest and the most fundamental things, it becomes clear to me again that they are things worth dedicating time and energy and focus to. I marvel at how I could have forgotten. Rilke and Augustine make me chuckle at myself.

Rilke’s remark to Franz Kappus about losing faith in God: “Glauben Sie, es könnte, wer ihn wirklich hat, ihn verlieren wie einen kleinen Stein?”

Augustine in his Confessions: “Et quomodo invocabo deum meum, deum et dominum meum, quoniam utique in me ipsum eum vocabo, cum invocabo eum? Et quis locus est in me quo veniat in me deus meus, quo deus veniat in me, deus qui fecit caelum et terram? Itane, domine deus meus? Est quicquam in me quod capiat te? An vero caelum et terra, quae fecisti et in quibus me fecisti, capiunt te? An quia sine te non esset quidquid est, fit ut quidquid est capiat te? Quoniam itaque et ego sum, quid peto ut venias in me, qui non essem nisi esses in me?”

When I see before me the contrast between my erstwhile spiritual scrabblings and the actualization that may be possible should we strive with humble boldness towards the fundamental, I am willing to assert, anxious though my faith be, that it’s more desirable to know the tiniest bit about the highest things than to have complete knowledge about things that aren’t really important. Or, as Strauss in “What is Political Philosophy?” recently reminded me of how Aquinas said it: “Minimum quod potest haberi de cognitione rerum altissimarum, desiderabilius est quam certissima cognitio quae habetur de minibus rebus.”