Father, you are a religious, a Dominican for the past 64 years (1930), a priest for almost 60 years (1936) and the founder of a new religious community, the Community of St. John. You have written a number of philosophical works and you taught a very long time in the department of philosophy at the University of Fribourg in Switzerland. How and why did a religious become a philosopher? Can a religious be a good philosopher? Does not philosophical research demand total openness to reality and thus abstraction from the certitudes of a believer ?

That's a very important question you ask, for I don't live my philosophical life in an absolute sense. I try to live a Christian life, and the Christian life all the way. But if the religious life, or the Christian life per se, is lived in an intelligent fashion--it doesn't hurt to live it this way, and there is no opposition between the two--one can have a philosophical reflection on the major problems of human life, of our experience as human beings; and from there one can--this requires great lucidity (not a critical outlook, but lucidity)--try to discern what one says as a Christian and what one says as a man, as a human person who wants to be intelligent, to search, to understand, who wants to open himself to dialogue with all men and women. It seems to me, in fact, that the question lies here. If one dialogues with a Christian, one can speak on a Christian level right away, in reference to Christ and to the Bible. If, on the contrary, one is before people who voluntarily forget these references or have never known them, one is then obliged to speak a language that corresponds to typically human reflection.
I would say that today, all intelligent Christians should have these two capacities. Otherwise, we will end in a perspective that has always struck me and who, among others, was that of Merleau-Ponty. He did not hesitate to say: "I hate to talk to Catholics, because they know everything." I would say that the Catholics he met were not good philosophers, that is, were not humanly intelligent enough. Otherwise, Merleau-Ponty would not have said this; he would have said: "It interests me a lot to speak with persons who have a culture different from my own, who have a Christian way of life, but who stay in contact with human problems." If we think, we can, in being attentive, place ourselves in a perspective that is properly philosophical.

Haven't you tried to work out a system that attempts to prove philosophically what you think to be true as a believer and communicable to all people ? Don't we have apologetics in germ ?

I don't believe so. Personally, I don't like apologetics at all. And I would easily say that the apologetic age which characterized the beginning of this century, is completely outdated today. When we use apologetic language today it is disastrous.

Young people don't like apologetics at all, and they smell it very quickly. They sense right away whether one is using direct language with them, whether one is speaking to their heart, to their intelligence, without hiding anything. I have never hidden the fact that I was Christian; that is why wearing a habit does not bother me at all. On the contrary, it helps me because then I don't have to worry about reminding people all the time that "I am Christian." It is visible. With young people I try to reflect on various human problems. Apologetical concern lasted until the middle of our century, and still exists with many Christians today. What strikes me, is that Jesus was not an apologist. Jesus appears to us as remarkably intelligent and always searching. Aren't there places, in the Gospel, where Jesus speaks as a philosopher? This interests me a lot. Perhaps we don't see it with Mark, Matthew and Luke. We see it, however, in John.

Where ?

Jesus has a wonderful capacity to adapt. I don't say apologetic but human adaptation. He knows to whom he is speaking, and he speaks so to be understood. We see this clearly in the conversation with the Samaritan woman. This is maybe the most eloquent place concerning the subject. The Samaritan woman (she is worthy of being ranked among the moderns!) tells him right away: "A Jew doesn't speak with a Samaritan" (Jn. 4:9). We might easily see people, today, saying openly: "A Catholic, a Christian, doesn't speak with those type of people." Jesus knows it. Nevertheless, he wants to awaken a certain curiosity in her. Perhaps it is curiosity or wonder that she has lost. Jesus awakens her curiosity concerning something she hasn't understood. Jesus adapts himself to this woman by asking her to give him something to drink. To others he speaks differently. And there is, in particular in the Gospel of John, a passage where Jesus speaks as a philosopher. It is a passage that I have always loved, but which I really had not understood until a couple of years ago. It has a philosophical aspect to it. Now it is clearer to me: if we look at the dialogue between Jesus and Pilate, we see that he speaks as a philosopher. He says explicitly: "I came into the world, to testify to the truth" (Jn 18:37). We habitually interpret this affirmation concerning the apostolic life of Jesus. If it were referring to his apostolic life, Jesus would have said that he came to bear witness that he is the Son of God. For Pilate, however, that Jesus be the Son of God means nothing. Jesus speaks to him about authority, power (Jn. 19:11), and the truth. Pilate understands very well: "What is truth?" (Jn 18:38). One must not forget that in Rome, in those days, the philosophy of Epictetus, a stoic philosopher, reigned. Stoic philosophy seeks truth, practical truth. Epictetus sought practical truth: how to be true, practically in one's life? How far can one go? The dialogue between Jesus and Pilate could be entitled: "Jesus, philosopher, meets a man of power." Jesus doesn't use his spiritual authority with Pilate. Pilate would not have understood. Even less would he have understood temporal authority, for it is outside of his perspective. He can, however, speak of truth, and he does speak this clear and precise language regarding the authority of Pilate.

When he speaks to Nicodemus (Jn. 3) Jesus speaks as a theologian. Is it apologetic to adapt in this way? Not at all. To be attentive to the experience of the one to whom we are speaking, to his way of receiving things, is not apologetic. It is to enter into a rapport with him, and to wish seeing born a bond of friendship--whereas when one does apologetics, one doesn't invite friendship. In fact, quite the opposite: one seeks to convince and thus draw and reduce all to self.

For young people there is nothing worse. As soon as a young person perceives this, he turns his back. On the contrary, if one shows interest in him and wishes to journey with him and be close to him, then he listens, and is interested. Jesus does this. He never hesitates in saying openly from where he comes and who he is. Yet, in his apostolic life he has an astonishing capacity to be very close to those who are listening to him.

If one looks closely in St. John one sees a place for philosophy in the life of a Christian. And for me, the Second Vatican Council was a sign that the Church was asking for this, since Vatican II asks for openness to the world. One can't understand openness to the world without philosophy, that is to say, without an understanding of man. I speak of an understanding of man in the deep sense, not as with a system! With a system of thought one finds apologetics. One pleads for his own system. But one ought not to plead for or defend a system: we seek truth and we seek it everywhere. We possess it more or less, or rather we are more or less possessed by it--but this is another question. If we search for truth, what is important to know is whether the person with whom we speak is interested in what we say. Having taught all my life, I can say this, and I will, doubtless, say it again: I never ask a student "Do you understand?"; I ask him: "Is the class interesting for you?" Those who say "no" can be on their way. To those who answer "I have a tough time understanding, but it interests me a lot," I say "Great, keep going!"

Man, therefore, is what interests the philosopher ?

Yes, man who exists, in all his singular and universal dimensions. And what is it that interests the Christian? It is man as capable of being redeemed by Christ, called by him to a vocation as beloved child of the Father. John Paul II's affirmation at the beginning of his pontificate "Man is the road of the Church" (Redemptor Hominis, 4)--scandalized certain people. In reality, it cannot be otherwise, for the mystery of the Incarnation is for the Redemption. Jesus has come to save man, and to show that he has a gaze upon man, more penetrating and more human than anyone else. In this regard, he is unbeatable. And when we read the Gospel in this perspective, we see that the Gospel is both the most philosophical and the most mystical. There is a gaze of Jesus upon man that remains human. Obviously, there are other things; I am not reducing the gospel of John to philosophy, but I see in it the possibility for a Christian to speak as a philosopher.

You are a Christian, you are a philosopher, but you forbid yourself Christian philosophy. Can you explain this?

Christian philosophy is still apologetic. Our culture is Christian, but what does that mean ? Christians constructed cathedrals ; but if these cathedrals become museums ? Cathedrals were not built to be museums, but rather to be the house where we pray, where we come to encounter God. Christian culture today is constantly diverted from its true end. I am first of all a Christian, i.e., a disciple of Christ, and I seek to love Him. But being a disciple of Christ today, and being Dominican (the Dominican vocation is simple: it is truth-the motto of the order is: Veritas) having prodigiously loved this vocation and continuing to love it, I try to understand truth at all levels, without exclusion. If we begin to exclude a level of truth, it is no longer the search for truth. It is exclusiveness and very quickly we become partial, just the opposite of the search for truth.

This search for truth at all levels is very difficult to maintain in one's life. It is wonderful, however, for there is a constant openness to this search. I would almost say that there is, as it were, a temptation of curiosity: when we see persons who, in fact, have a culture totally different than our own and who are men like us, we would like to know them truly, in other words, without camouflaging ourselves for it is man whom we meet. One is not afraid of meeting another man who simply says what he is. When I meet a person, I would like to know whether he is married or not, or if he has kids because that changes everything (or at least a lot). A Marxist with children speaks a totally different language than a Marxist who doesn't have children. With someone who lives true love, it is totally different than with someone who doesn't live true love. With someone who lives only according to a system, with a man who follows an ideology it is horrible. One feels as though before a wall, for anything which is not of his ideology, he excludes. Even in the Church, there are people who have ideologies; and these are sometimes farther off than others.

As a Christian, how can one claim to possess an ultimate truth on man and his finality and at the same time search for truth, the meaning of human life as a philosopher ?

I believe that it is easy, if one respects what faith is. Saint Thomas wrote a marvelous article on the necessity of faith. He does not say that faith is necessary in order to know man, nor to know the universe, the world, nor to know what the family is. No. Faith is necessary because I am oriented towards the beatific vision. This is clear: if I want to speak of the beatific vision, faith is necessary; I am not able to say much from a philosophical point of view. But if I want to speak of man, I search first of all to understand what he is, and then I will see whether faith gives me other certitudes. If faith gives me other certitudes, it would be in another area: no longer human but in the supernatural realm, that is, that which is directly oriented towards the beatific vision.

Although it is because of the beatific vision, therefore, that I need faith, I am also agree in saying that faith leads towards an extremely elevated and vertical summit (the beatific vision is very high!) and enlightens everything from the summit. It gives no philosophical knowledge, i.e. no typically human knowledge. Now, in order to be able to dialogue with man, it is necessary to be human. It is necessary to be close to him from a human point of view. If I have to deal with a scientist, I try to know what science is and to understand what interests him. It doesn't bother me because the certitudes that faith give are in a realm which the philosopher cannot reach. Where the philosopher cannot reach, faith gives certitudes. But these certitudes are not obvious: I believe, I adhere to them in obscurity, and out of love. These truths are certain for the believer (the Christian), yet, they remain obscure. They are not obvious for him during his earthly pilgrimage. However, he has the certitude that one day the obscurity will disappear to yield to a beatifying vision of the revealed mysteries.

If among these revealed truths, certain can be discovered through research connatural to human intelligence (the existence of a God-Creator), the believer, the Christian is all too happy, for they are part of revealed truth. Scripture unceasingly reminds us that our human intelligence can discover invisible reality, starting from visible reality. Isn't this properly the question of the vitality of the intelligence? All that our intelligence can discover by itself, it must--even if it has received it previously through a gratuitous channel, i.e., Revelation. Christian faith--and this is perhaps what characterizes it when compared with other beliefs--respects and loves all that human intelligence is capable of discovering by itself. Does not Christian faith awaken in us an authentic search for truth, both in the order of Revelation as well as that of philosophy?

Yet one sees many believers who think they have an answer to everything with their faith.

They are perhaps believers, but not good ones, for their faith does not awaken their intelligence enough to the search for truth. Can we not say that their faith lacks vigor? If indeed they were a bit more curious, a bit more avid, and intellectually awake they would not be saying this. I understand well how one might question Scripture by asking (if I had the time I would do it): What anthropology is revealed in Scripture? If I had the time, I would read the Bible as a philosopher. This would fascinate. In fact, I do it from time to time. I've done it for Saint John, but in so doing I know very well that I have a reading of Scripture at my horizontal level. Even though this horizontal is very elevated, it remains horizontal. Reading Scripture as a believer is another thing. Not reading it as such reduces faith to philosophy, reduces theology to philosophy; while if one maintains this distinction, there is no danger.

There are many "floors" that need to be distinguished. There is your philosophical thought, your theological thought, and then there is the spiritual life?

Yes, but there is a unity which is man. Since you take this comparison, let us then use it but instead of "floors," let us speak of "levels." Something very simple illustrates this: airplane flights are at different levels. This is the best of comparisons. Once you are at a certain level and see the landscape, then at another level, you see the same landscape. Is it bothersome? Not at all.

Yes, but one can say: is it necessary for the pilot who sees the mountain from above to climb its summit starting from the base, tiring himself as the philosopher ?

I believe that the pilot who sees from above will have an intense desire to see the mountain from the base angle, because this does not do away with anything.

It is a bit like what you have done. You have faith, you are a theologian, and you have worked all your life to become a philosopher. Can you give me a definition of a philosopher ?

There is none. For me, the best definition, which I use all the time, is that of Péguy who wasn't a philosopher. It is the best, not in the absolute sense, but in the sense of being the most understandable for people. In his own way, Péguy says that there are only two kinds of persons, those who descend with the river and those who re-ascend to the source. This is how he distinguishes philosophers from non-philosophers. A lot of persons descend with the river current, and it is easy. The dead also descend, and corpses descend even faster than the rest (in this descent, let us then be corpses!) One does as everyone does, goes with the flow. When I ask someone: "Therefore you descend with the flow? Be a corpse, and you will go even faster." In other words, think no longer, descend, do as everyone else does and that is it!" On the contrary, there are those who want to re-ascend to the source. And Péguy adds: "It is difficult to re-ascend to the source, it is arduous. One must accept to be alone. This is very exact. Péguy doesn't give a definition, but describes an interior attitude which consists in searching for truth. For me, such is the philosopher: one who "madly" searches for the truth. Not in order to possess it but to be possessed by it, to be taken hold of by it. That is why I readily define the philosopher as the one who struggles against all "a priori": political, moral, indeed all "a priori". One can have, and one has many of them. There will always be a priori. It is necessary to struggle against them in order to be capable to stand before another man, a friend, a saint, before nature, a little violet. I was fond of a great painter who used to say: "A painter is someone who knows how to look at an apple as if he had never seen one." I wanted to say to him: that is a philosopher!

Philosophy implies above all a purification of the intelligence ?

Yes, a purification of the intelligence, so to try to understand things in depth. Péguy says: "at the source; 'in depth' is really 'at the source.'" It is not seeing things as everyone else does. Everyone, in fact, looks at reality, or at least believes to be looking at it but very often we confuse that which is deepest in the reality, in such-and-such reality, with that which is visible, its appearances. That is why the philosopher can say--as Merleau-Ponty did at the end of his life--that philosophy seeks to grasp the invisible through the visible. This definition is very beautiful. It meets up with what is said about the faith of Moses "(...) he persevered as if seeing the one who is invisible" (Heb. 11:27).
The believer is placed in the presence of the invisible by means of the invisible. The philosopher is the one who tries to always go deeper, to discover the truth about realities, of a particular reality, and most of all of man.