Approach the truth with reverence

I'm reading a book by Fr. Benedict Groeschel, CFR which, to be frank, doesn't do a whole lot for me. Mostly a matter of taste. I prefer arguments to allegories, and syllogisms to sentiment. De gustibus non disputandem.

However, in the midst of it he cited this passage from Ven. John Henry Newman:

For is not this the error, the common and fatal error, of the world, to think itself a judge of Religious Truth without preparation of heart? "I am the good Shepherd, and know My sheep, and am known of Mine." "He goeth before them, and the sheep follow Him, for they know His voice." "The pure in heart shall see God:" "to the meek mysteries are revealed; " "he that is spiritual judgeth all things." "The darkness comprehendeth it not." Gross eyes see not; heavy ears hear not. But in the schools of the world the ways towards Truth are considered high roads open to all men, however disposed, at all times. Truth is to be approached without homage. Every one is considered on a level with his neighbour; or rather the powers of the intellect, acuteness, sagacity, subtlety, and depth, are thought the guides into Truth. Men consider that they have as full a right to discuss religious subjects, as if they were themselves religious. They will enter upon the most sacred points of Faith at the moment, at their pleasure,—if it so happen, in a careless frame of mind, in their hours of recreation, over the wine cup. Is it wonderful that they so frequently end in becoming indifferentists, and conclude that Religious Truth is but a name, that all men are right and all wrong, from witnessing externally the multitude of sects and parties, and from the clear consciousness they possess within, that their own inquiries end in darkness? (University Sermons 10.43)

And it struck me just how much I take for granted -- no, really I consider myself entitled to -- understanding the truth about the world and other people and God. Which reminded me of something that Pope Benedict XVI noted in his recent encyclical Caritas in veritate (34):

Truth — which is itself gift, in the same way as charity — is greater than we are, as Saint Augustine teaches. Likewise the truth of ourselves, of our personal conscience, is first of all given to us. In every cognitive process, truth is not something that we produce, it is always found, or better, received. Truth, like love, “is neither planned nor willed, but somehow imposes itself upon human beings”

In other words, truth is not something that belongs to me, that I can possess or control, that I can require of the world or of other people. My first attitude toward the truth -- the truth of anything, whether it be science or history or other people -- my first attitude should be humility; and my attitude upon learning anything -- again, anything at all -- should be gratitude.

Moreover, when I have been given a truth, even the truth about my own experience, that is a treasure that I am responsible to use wisely, as a steward. It is a gift that I can and should give to others who need it. I may give different gifts to my close friends (e.g., the truth of my deep experiences) than I give to strangers on the street (e.g., the truth of the time of day) or to partners in a discussion (e.g., the truth of some knowledge or of my perspective), but in every case, I only give what I have received as a gift.

This is rather a new way of looking at things for me. As I mentioned, I have an overly-developed sense of entitlement, and a woefully under-developed sense of gratitude. But, thank God, I do seem to have some capacity to learn.

Indeed, thank you, all of you friends and strangers who have given me the gift of truth throughout my lifetime. I will endeavor to use your gifts well.