The Inadequacy of an Incomplete Theology of Spiritual Growth as a Theological Problem

Jean Khoury

Summary: The Catholic Church has always proclaimed holiness as the ultimate vocation of the Christian person. The Second Vatican Council reaffirmed this conviction with particular force, declaring the universal call to the fullness of Christian life and the perfection of charity. Yet a fundamental theological question arises: does the theology ordinarily transmitted through ecclesiastical education adequately explain the process by which the human person progressively reaches this fullness?

This article argues that a possible inadequacy in the theological understanding and transmission of spiritual growth must be recognised as a theological problem, rather than being treated merely as a deficiency in pastoral practice, spiritual direction or personal formation.

The argument does not suggest that Catholic Tradition lacks a developed theology of spiritual transformation. On the contrary, Scripture, St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Teresa of Jesus, St. John of the Cross and other great masters offer remarkably profound accounts of the progressive transformation of the human person by grace. The question concerns whether this theological knowledge has been sufficiently received, integrated and made operative within the broader structure of contemporary theological education.

The article examines theology’s formative authority, the possibility of transmitting an incomplete theological horizon across generations, and the consequences of proclaiming holiness without adequately explaining its attainment. It proposes a framework for making this deficiency intellectually perceptible and academically examinable, before presenting any particular theological synthesis as its solution.

The central contention is that an incomplete theology of spiritual growth cannot be adequately corrected through pastoral adjustments alone. If the deficiency concerns what theology understands, teaches and considers necessary to know, it demands a properly theological response.

Keywords: Spiritual theology; spiritual growth; mystical theology; theological education; holiness; grace; spiritual transformation; priestly formation; theological epistemology; Catholic Tradition.

Introduction: The Question We Have Not Sufficiently Asked

The Catholic Church teaches that every Christian is called to holiness. This conviction is neither marginal nor optional. It belongs to the very understanding of salvation, of the Church and of the Christian vocation. Nevertheless, an important distinction must be made between proclaiming a destination and possessing an adequate understanding of the journey leading towards it. It is one thing to affirm that the Christian is called to the fullness of love. It is another to explain how this fullness progressively becomes a reality within the human person. What happens within the person as grace operates? How does the Christian pass from an initial conversion to a deeper conformity with Christ? How are the faculties, the virtues, the will, the affections and the deepest roots of human behaviour progressively transformed? What distinguishes the different phases of spiritual growth? How does the action of the Holy Spirit develop, and what changes in the manner in which the human person cooperates with that action? These questions concern not simply the practice of Christian life but its theological intelligibility.

An educational system may transmit correct doctrines concerning grace, prayer, virtue, the sacraments, sanctification and union with God while leaving the relationship between these realities insufficiently articulated. Individual teachings may be sound, yet the theological understanding of their dynamic interconnection may remain incomplete. Consequently, the student may acquire considerable theological knowledge without receiving a correspondingly coherent understanding of how Christian holiness develops. The issue is particularly significant because theology does not merely describe the Christian faith. Through its teaching, it forms the intellectual framework within which the faith is subsequently understood, proclaimed and transmitted. Theology shapes what future priests, theologians, bishops and spiritual formators will recognise as important, what they will regard as secondary and, perhaps most significantly, which questions they will learn to ask. The problem investigated here is therefore not simply the absence of certain answers. It is the possible absence of a sufficiently developed question within the ordinary theological consciousness of the Church’s educators. If the inadequacy of our theological understanding of spiritual growth remains invisible, it can continue to be transmitted without being recognised as an inadequacy at all. This is the phenomenon that may be described as ignorance faithfully transmitted.

The purpose of the present article is to establish why such a situation, wherever it occurs, must be considered a theological problem. Before advocating a particular solution, we must first make the problem itself perceptible.

1. The Universal Call to Holiness and Its Theological Implications

The Second Vatican Council offers an indispensable starting point. In Lumen gentium, chapter V, the Council declares that all Christians are called to the fullness of Christian life and to the perfection of charity.[1] This statement is much more than a spiritual exhortation. It identifies the ultimate vocation of every baptised person and therefore establishes an essential criterion for understanding the entire Christian life. Theologically, holiness cannot be reduced to moral respectability, faithful religious observance, participation in ecclesiastical activities or the acquisition of doctrinal knowledge. These realities possess their proper value, but none constitutes in itself the fullness towards which the Christian vocation is directed. Holiness concerns the progressive transformation of the person through participation in the life of God, culminating in the perfection of charity.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church expresses this orientation with particular clarity in paragraph 2014, explaining that spiritual progress leads towards an increasingly intimate union with Christ. Significantly, it states that God calls all Christians to this intimate union, while distinguishing the universal vocation from extraordinary mystical signs, which are not granted to everyone.[2] This distinction is fundamental. Union with God is not simply an exceptional possibility reserved for a small number of privileged souls. It belongs to the horizon of the Christian vocation itself. If this is true, the theological explanation of the journey towards union cannot be considered merely an optional specialisation. It belongs to the theological understanding of what Christian existence is intended to become. The question then arises: if the fullness of charity constitutes the ultimate vocation of every Christian, what place does the theological understanding of growth towards this fullness occupy within the ordinary theological curriculum? A disproportion between the importance of the end and the intellectual attention devoted to the means of attaining it would reveal a difficulty in the structure of theological education itself. It would mean that theology affirms a truth of decisive importance without always ensuring that its implications are sufficiently developed. This possible disproportion constitutes the first indication of the problem.

2. The Difference Between Possessing Doctrines and Understanding Spiritual Growth

It would be inaccurate to suggest that Catholic theology lacks teachings concerning grace, sanctification, infused virtues, the gifts of the Holy Spirit, prayer, contemplation, purification and union with God. These subjects belong to a substantial theological inheritance. The question is whether possessing these doctrines, even when each is correctly explained, necessarily produces an adequate understanding of the progressive transformation of the Christian person. It does not. A collection of correct theological propositions does not automatically constitute an integrated theology of spiritual development. One may know the definition of sanctifying grace without understanding sufficiently how the life of grace develops through the different phases of spiritual growth. One may understand that charity is an infused theological virtue without being able to explain adequately the transformations that occur as charity approaches its perfection. One may study the gifts of the Holy Spirit without understanding their concrete role in the progressive transformation of the faculties. One may affirm that purification is necessary without adequately distinguishing its forms, its causes, its successive depths and the changes it produces within the person. Similarly, one may know that Christian prayer develops without possessing a sufficiently precise theological account of the transitions between different forms and modalities of prayer. These examples reveal a distinction between doctrinal possession and developmental intelligibility. The former concerns the possession of particular truths. The latter concerns understanding their relationships within the actual process of transformation. An adequate theology of spiritual growth requires both. This does not mean replacing dogmatic theology with spiritual experience. Rather, it means recognising that the truths concerning grace, charity and sanctification possess an intrinsically dynamic dimension. Grace is not simply something about which theology speaks. It is the divine gift through which God transforms the human person. Charity is not merely a virtue to be defined. It is a supernatural love capable of growth, purification and perfection. Sanctification is not only a doctrinal category. It names a real transformation that takes place throughout Christian life. Consequently, the theology of these realities remains incomplete in an important respect if their dynamic operation is not sufficiently understood. The question is therefore not whether theological education teaches grace, charity and holiness. It is whether it adequately explains their development and their interrelationship throughout the journey towards union with God.

3. Making the Deficiency Perceptible: A Theological Diagnostic

Before proposing a solution, the possible deficiency must be made visible through questions capable of testing the explanatory adequacy of theological formation. Imagine a student who has successfully completed several years of philosophical and theological studies. The student possesses a substantial knowledge of Scripture, dogmatic theology, moral theology, sacramental theology, ecclesiology and Church history. We might then ask this student to explain, in a coherent and theologically grounded manner, the progressive transformation of a Christian from the beginnings of spiritual life towards the fullness of charity. What stages or principal transitions can be distinguished in this journey, and what is their theological significance? What changes in the relationship between divine initiative and human cooperation as spiritual life develops? How does grace progressively transform the virtues and the deepest dispositions from which human acts proceed? What distinguishes the effort of a person who is growing in virtue, assisted by grace, from the deeper transformation in which God Himself purifies and renews the roots of the person’s activity? How does the theology of infused virtue relate to the gifts of the Holy Spirit and to the traditional teaching on contemplation? Why do the great spiritual masters distinguish between the purification of sense and the purification of spirit? How does spiritual growth involve not only the correction of individual behaviours but the transformation of the underlying principles from which those behaviours arise? How can the Christian distinguish authentic spiritual progress from its appearances, including religious enthusiasm, external observance, psychological satisfaction or the accumulation of spiritual experiences?

Finally, how do these different realities converge upon the perfection of charity? These are theological questions. They concern grace, theological anthropology, causality, virtue, divine action, human freedom, spiritual knowledge and the finality of Christian existence. They are not simply questions of technique. The purpose of asking them is not to impose a particular school of spirituality upon every theologian, nor to assume that there is only one legitimate account of spiritual growth. It is to examine whether theological formation possesses the conceptual resources necessary to explain realities belonging to the central vocation of the Christian person. A further question must therefore be addressed to the theological curriculum itself.

Where are these questions systematically treated? How are they connected to dogmatic and moral theology? What understanding should the graduate possess? How is that understanding examined? What theological sources are regarded as indispensable? The answers cannot be assumed in advance. The present article does not claim to have established, through a comprehensive empirical survey, that all or most theological institutions fail this examination. Such a conclusion would require an investigation of curricula, teaching practices, examinations and the competencies of graduates. Rather, it establishes a diagnostic criterion and identifies a possible deficiency of considerable theological significance. If these questions are not adequately addressed, the deficiency concerns more than an insufficient number of courses on spirituality. It concerns the explanatory capacity of the theological formation being transmitted. This is how an absence that might otherwise remain unnoticed can begin to become intellectually perceptible.

4. Why This Is a Theological Problem, Not Merely a Pastoral One

A difficulty arises when deficiencies in spiritual formation are treated primarily as pastoral problems. It may be suggested that priests need more retreats, religious communities need better spiritual directors, seminarians need longer formation, or the faithful need more effective programmes of catechesis and accompaniment. These proposals may be valuable. They may also be necessary. However, they cannot by themselves resolve a deficiency that exists at the level of theological understanding. If those responsible for formation do not possess an adequate account of spiritual growth, increasing the duration or frequency of formation does not necessarily correct the underlying problem. More time spent transmitting an incomplete understanding does not automatically make that understanding complete. Similarly, pastoral experience, although indispensable, cannot replace theological clarity. Experience itself requires interpretation, and theological inadequacy may affect the interpretation of experience. We must therefore distinguish the symptoms of a problem from its intellectual roots.

A priest who cannot adequately explain the journey towards holiness may need further formation. But if the theological curriculum through which he was educated did not provide the necessary understanding, the problem precedes the individual priest.

A spiritual director who cannot interpret the progressive action of grace may lack experience or discernment. Yet the difficulty may also reflect the absence of adequate theological preparation.

A religious community may struggle to connect the external observances of its rule with the spiritual transformation towards which those observances are directed. But the answer cannot consist exclusively in changing the observances if the theological understanding of their interior finality has been weakened.

In each case, practical difficulty may reveal a deeper intellectual deficiency. The Second Vatican Council had already recognised the necessary relationship between theological education and spiritual life. Optatam totius, no. 16, requires that theological doctrine become the “food of their own spiritual lives”.[3] This is an important theological criterion. The study of theology is not intended merely to produce doctrinal competence detached from Christian existence. The mysteries studied are the mysteries by which the Christian lives and is transformed. This does not abolish theology’s scientific character or reduce academic theology to devotional instruction. It requires theology to remain faithful to the full reality of its object. The inadequacy of a theology unable to account sufficiently for spiritual growth would therefore be an internal theological deficiency, not merely an unfortunate pastoral consequence. A theological problem requires theological investigation.

5. Theology as the Formative Intelligence of the Church

At this point, the argument reaches its institutional centre. Theology occupies a decisive position within the life of the Church because it helps shape the intellectual formation of those who will subsequently teach, preach, govern and guide others. Its influence is therefore not confined to universities. Theology forms seminarians. Seminarians become priests; some eventually become bishops. Theology forms future professors, spiritual directors, religious formators and those entrusted with the intellectual and spiritual education of the faithful. Through these persons, theological understanding enters ecclesiastical institutions, pastoral decisions, preaching, spiritual direction and the ordinary life of Christian communities.

Theology is, in a very real sense, the head of the Church’s intellectual and formative life. Or put simply, theology is the real head of the Church. This affirmation does not concern juridical authority, but something that precedes and profoundly influences its exercise: the formation of the mind. Theology determines, to a considerable extent, how future priests, bishops, theologians and spiritual formators understand the faith, conceive the Christian vocation, recognise the possibilities of spiritual growth and interpret the mission entrusted to them. It establishes the intellectual horizon within which they think, judge, teach and guide others.

When that horizon is incomplete, the consequences extend far beyond the classroom. An entire ecclesiastical culture may progressively come to regard as normal an understanding of Christian life that is itself incomplete. The danger is not simply that certain truths are insufficiently taught. It is that their absence ceases to be perceived. Theology can thus become the means by which a theological deficiency is faithfully transmitted from one generation to the next.

The categories transmitted during theological education help determine what future pastors consider important, what they recognise as possible and what they are equipped to discern. Theological education therefore establishes not only a body of knowledge but also a horizon of understanding. What lies beyond that horizon may become difficult even to recognise as a question.

Here the possibility of a particularly serious phenomenon emerges. A theological deficiency can be transmitted faithfully, precisely because those transmitting it may not recognise it as a deficiency. The professor teaches what he has received. The student learns what the curriculum considers necessary. The student subsequently becomes a priest, professor or bishop and transmits the same intellectual framework to the next generation. Each person may act conscientiously and responsibly within the boundaries of the knowledge available to him. Yet the original deficiency remains. It is reproduced through a process of faithful transmission. This is not necessarily culpable ignorance. It may be structural ignorance: an intellectual limitation sustained by the organisation of knowledge itself. The consequences may become especially serious when this limitation concerns the understanding of spiritual growth, because those who have not been adequately prepared to recognise the journey may become responsible for guiding others along it. The Gospel warning concerning the blind leading the blind, expressed in Luke 6:39 and Matthew 15:14, acquires here a particular relevance. The warning is not used to accuse individual theologians or pastors of bad faith. It identifies the danger inherent in attempting to guide another person without adequate vision. The central issue is not moral condemnation but formative responsibility. If theology shapes those who subsequently guide the Church, theology itself must be willing to examine the adequacy of its understanding.

6. The Richness of Tradition and the Problem of Its Reception

An important objection must now be considered. One might argue that Catholic theology already possesses a profound understanding of spiritual growth and that the problem described here therefore does not exist. The first part of this objection is correct. The theological tradition contains substantial and highly developed accounts of the growth of charity and the transformation of the human person. St. Thomas Aquinas, for example, examines the increase of charity and distinguishes between beginners, those making progress and the perfect. In the Summa theologiae, II–II, question 24, articles 4–9, he provides a theological account of charity as an infused virtue capable of intensification and development.[4] This is not merely moral exhortation. It is a theological explanation of supernatural growth.

St. Teresa of Jesus, particularly in The Interior Castle, presents spiritual life as a progressive journey towards union with God. She distinguishes different forms of prayer, stages of interior transformation and the increasingly profound action of divine grace.

St. John of the Cross provides an extraordinarily penetrating account of the purification through which the human person is prepared for transforming union. In The Dark Night, book II, chapter 2, he distinguishes the superficial imperfections from those remaining deeply rooted within the spirit. His analysis concerns not simply individual faults but the underlying dispositions which must be purified if the person is to attain the fullness of union.[5] In book II, chapter 10, he develops his celebrated comparison between a log of wood and the fire which progressively penetrates and transforms it. The process of purification is inseparable from the process of transformation. This image conveys a decisive theological insight: the final aim is not simply the correction of external behaviour but the transformation of the person through the action of divine love.

St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus offers another profound witness to the primacy of divine action. Her writings, particularly Manuscripts B and C and her Act of Oblation to Merciful Love, illuminate the relationship between spiritual poverty, confidence, surrender and the transforming work of God.

These authors do not merely offer edifying spiritual reflections. They make substantive contributions to the Church’s understanding of grace, virtue, purification, divine action and union with God. The problem, therefore, cannot be described as an absence of theological resources within Catholic Tradition. It concerns their reception. To what extent has this wisdom been integrated into the ordinary theological understanding transmitted by ecclesiastical institutions? Has it been treated as knowledge capable of illuminating the entire Christian vocation, or has it sometimes been confined to a specialised field, separated from the main structure of theological education? Are the writings of the great Doctors of spiritual life studied merely as historical expressions of spirituality, or are they also received as theological sources capable of deepening the understanding of Christian transformation? These questions require careful investigation. It would be unjustified to assume that every theological institution treats spiritual theology superficially. There are significant differences between institutions, traditions and programmes. Nevertheless, the existence of excellent specialist teaching does not by itself establish that the theology of spiritual growth is adequately integrated throughout theological education. A treasure may be preserved without being sufficiently appropriated. The question of its reception remains open.

7. The Deeper Issue: What Kind of Transformation Does Theology Explain?

The theological problem becomes particularly evident when we examine the relationship between divine grace and human activity throughout the different phases of spiritual life. Christian theology rightly affirms that all authentic supernatural growth depends upon grace. The Christian does not attain holiness through autonomous human effort. Nevertheless, this affirmation does not eliminate the need to distinguish different modalities of divine action and human cooperation. A person may practise humility, obedience, patience and charity under the assistance of grace while still retaining deeply rooted imperfections in the manner in which these virtues are exercised. It is possible to perform genuinely good and even supernatural acts while remaining insufficiently purified at the deepest levels of one’s interior dispositions. St. John of the Cross examines precisely this difficulty when he explains why the spiritual person, even after considerable progress, continues to require the profound purification of the spirit. The roots of behaviour must themselves be transformed. Here a distinction deserves particular theological attention: that between the action of grace in a modality in which human faculties principally exercise their own operations under divine assistance, and a deeper modality in which the divine initiative progressively transforms the very manner of their operation. This distinction must not be understood as separating an initial life without grace from a later life possessing grace. Both belong to the supernatural economy of salvation. Nor does the primacy of divine action abolish human freedom. The deepest transformation of the person remains a transformation of a free creature whose faculties are healed, elevated and perfected by grace. The distinction concerns the manner and depth of divine operation. In the teaching of St. John of the Cross, the dark night of the spirit possesses particular importance because it concerns the purification of those roots which the person’s previous efforts have been unable fully to transform. A comprehensive treatment of this distinction requires further theological analysis and cannot be presumed to be identical in formulation across all spiritual authors. Nevertheless, it illustrates the kind of question that an adequate theology of spiritual growth must be capable of addressing. How does the action of grace differ across the phases of spiritual life? What does divine purification accomplish that previous spiritual efforts have not accomplished? How does this affect the exercise of the virtues? What does it mean for love, humility and obedience to undergo a profound transformation in their very manner of operation? The issue is not simply that the person becomes more virtuous quantitatively. It concerns changes in the depth, purity and manner of participation in divine life. To neglect these questions would risk presenting spiritual growth as a continuous accumulation of good acts without adequately explaining the profound transformations described by the great spiritual masters. Such an account could contain many truths and yet remain insufficient as an explanation of the journey towards transforming union.

8. Humility, Truth and the Conditions of Theological Knowledge

The problem also has an epistemological dimension. Theology seeks truth. Yet theological understanding can be limited not only by insufficient information but also by the categories and assumptions through which information is interpreted. A theologian may be unaware that a question is missing from his intellectual framework. This is particularly delicate because the possession of substantial knowledge can create an impression of completeness. One may know many correct things without knowing what one does not yet understand. The recognition of a deficiency therefore demands intellectual humility. St. Teresa of Jesus establishes an important relationship between humility and truth. In The Interior Castle, Sixth Mansions, chapter 10, she identifies God as supreme Truth and declares that “humility is the truth”.[6] For Teresa, humility is not merely an attitude of modesty. It involves a truthful relationship with reality: with God, with oneself and with what one has genuinely received. Applied to theology, this principle requires the courage to recognise both the richness of the knowledge already possessed and the limits of our present understanding. It would be false humility to deny the value of centuries of theological reflection. It would equally be a failure of intellectual humility to assume that, because a doctrine has been repeatedly taught, its implications have necessarily been adequately understood. The theologian must be willing to distinguish between what is known, what is assumed and what remains insufficiently explained.

The Second Vatican Council offers a significant foundation for this attitude in Dei Verbum, no. 8. The Council explains that the Church grows in her understanding of the realities transmitted through Tradition by means of study, contemplation and a deepening understanding arising from spiritual experience.[7] This teaching does not make private experience an autonomous authority over Revelation. It identifies a legitimate contribution of lived spiritual reality to the Church’s growing understanding of the truth she has received. Theological investigation into spiritual growth must therefore move in a disciplined relationship between Revelation, Tradition, theological reasoning and the concrete realities of spiritual life. The experience of the saints is not a substitute for theology. Properly interpreted, it is one of the privileged places in which the operation of grace becomes perceptible and can be theologically examined. Theological humility thus requires more than acknowledging that further research is possible. It requires an active willingness to recognise the questions that existing intellectual habits may have obscured. The courage to seek truth includes the courage to discover the incompleteness of our present theological understanding.

9. Discussion: Possible Objections and Their Implications

The argument developed here may encounter several objections.

The first is that spiritual growth already belongs to spiritual theology and therefore requires no further attention within other theological disciplines. This objection correctly recognises the existence of spiritual theology as a distinct field of study. Nevertheless, the existence of a specialised discipline does not automatically guarantee that its principal insights are integrated into theological education as a whole. If spiritual growth belongs to the central purpose of Christian existence, its theological intelligibility has implications for dogmatic theology, moral theology, sacramental theology, ecclesiology and theological anthropology. The relationship between these disciplines therefore deserves examination.

A second objection is that academic theology is concerned with understanding revealed truth, not with producing spiritual experience. This distinction must be preserved. Academic theology cannot manufacture holiness. Neither can intellectual competence guarantee sanctity. However, it does not follow that theology may remain indifferent to the process through which the truths it studies become operative in Christian existence. Theology may study the nature of sanctification without causing sanctification. Yet its explanation must remain adequate to the reality being studied.

A third objection concerns the variety of spiritual paths. The Church recognises different vocations, temperaments, forms of prayer and manifestations of grace. A single rigid model of spiritual growth could fail to respect this diversity. This concern is legitimate. An adequate theology of spiritual growth must distinguish between fundamental principles of supernatural transformation and their diverse concrete realisations. It must not confuse theological structure with uniformity of personal experience. Nevertheless, diversity does not eliminate the possibility or necessity of theological understanding. The existence of different spiritual journeys does not mean that nothing coherent can be said about grace, purification, charity and union with God.

A fourth objection is that the Church’s principal crisis is practical rather than theoretical. The faithful need conversion, priests need holiness and religious communities need renewal. More theology, it may be argued, is unlikely to resolve such difficulties. This objection rightly insists that holiness cannot be achieved through intellectual reform alone. Nevertheless, it fails to recognise the formative consequences of theological understanding. If the knowledge transmitted to spiritual formators is inadequate, their capacity to guide others may be limited even when their personal intentions are excellent. Theology cannot substitute for conversion, but deficient theology may make the path of conversion more difficult to understand and communicate.

Finally, one might object that the argument risks attributing too much power to theology, overlooking the work of the Holy Spirit, the sacraments, personal sanctity and the living Tradition of the Church. The objection would be justified if theology were presented as the source of holiness. It is not. The Holy Spirit is the principal agent of sanctification. Theology serves the Church by seeking to understand the mysteries through which God acts. The argument concerns the responsibility accompanying that service. Precisely because theology is not the source of grace, it must remain attentive to the reality of divine action rather than reducing spiritual life to the limits of its established explanatory categories.

10. Theoretical Consequences: Towards a More Integrated Theological Understanding

If the problem described in this article is established, several consequences follow for theological research.

First, the progressive transformation of the human person must be recognised as a major theological subject in its own right. The question is not simply what grace is, but how grace progressively transforms the person throughout Christian life. This requires sustained attention to the theological relationship between divine initiative, human cooperation, infused virtue, the gifts of the Holy Spirit, purification, contemplation and the perfection of charity.

Secondly, the separation between the different theological disciplines must be examined wherever it obscures their common finality. Theology possesses legitimate specialisations. Their existence is indispensable to scientific precision. Nevertheless, specialisation can produce fragmentation when the relationships between disciplines are insufficiently developed. A theology of spiritual growth requires the different fields to contribute to an integrated understanding of the Christian person’s transformation in Christ.

Thirdly, the theological status of the writings of the great spiritual masters deserves renewed attention. St. Teresa of Jesus and St John of the Cross are not merely historical witnesses to particular forms of religious experience. Their writings contain substantive theological analyses of the operation of grace. Their contribution must therefore be evaluated not simply according to their place within the history of spirituality but also according to their capacity to illuminate fundamental theological questions.

Fourthly, theology requires an adequate methodological relationship between doctrinal reflection and spiritual experience. Neither doctrinal abstraction detached from the reality of spiritual transformation nor an uncritical appeal to experience can provide a sufficient method. The movement must be reciprocal and disciplined: theological principles illuminate spiritual realities, while the carefully interpreted teaching and experience of the saints help deepen our understanding of those principles.

Fifthly, the theology of spiritual growth must clarify its own explanatory claims. It must distinguish what belongs to established Catholic teaching, what constitutes a recognised theological interpretation and what remains the subject of legitimate research or debate. This distinction protects the intellectual integrity of the discipline while making further development possible.

Finally, the very understanding of theological completeness must be reconsidered. A theology is not complete simply because it has treated a number of recognised doctrinal subjects. Its adequacy must also be considered in relation to the realities those doctrines are intended to explain. If theology proclaims sanctification as central to Christian existence, it must be capable of giving a correspondingly serious account of sanctification as a progressive reality.

11. Practical Consequences: Reform Begins with Theological Formation

The practical consequences of this argument are considerable, but they must be approached in the correct order. The temptation is to move immediately towards programmes, institutional reforms and new structures. Yet if the problem is theological, reform must begin by examining theological understanding itself. The first practical requirement is therefore a serious assessment of existing theological curricula. Such an investigation should examine not only whether spiritual theology is taught, but also how the progressive transformation of the person is explained, how it is integrated with other disciplines and what level of understanding students are expected to acquire. The assessment must include learning objectives, required readings, actual teaching, examinations and the intellectual preparation of those responsible for formation. Its purpose would not be to condemn institutions or impose an artificial uniformity. It would be to establish, through verifiable evidence, where theological formation adequately addresses spiritual growth and where important deficiencies remain.

A second consequence concerns the preparation of theological educators. Reforming a curriculum without adequately preparing those who teach it may accomplish little. Professors and spiritual formators require access to the theological wisdom of the Church’s great masters, together with the intellectual means necessary to interpret and communicate that wisdom.

A third consequence concerns priestly formation. The Second Vatican Council and subsequent magisterial teaching insist upon the relationship between intellectual, spiritual, human and pastoral formation. St John Paul II, in Pastores dabo vobis, no. 45, describes spiritual formation as the unifying centre of priestly life. In no. 53, he explains that authentic theological formation proceeds from faith and is directed towards its deepening.[8] The implications are significant. A priest must not only know what the Church teaches concerning holiness. He should receive an adequate theological understanding of the spiritual journey so that he can discern, explain and support spiritual growth in those entrusted to his care. This competence does not replace personal holiness, lived experience or the indispensable work of the Holy Spirit. It belongs to the intellectual preparation necessary for responsible pastoral service.

A fourth consequence concerns religious life. External structures, observances and constitutions possess their meaning in relation to the spiritual reality they are intended to foster. If the understanding of that interior reality becomes obscured, reform can become excessively concentrated upon external arrangements. The restoration of a community’s spiritual vitality cannot be secured simply by modifying its structures or extending the period of initial formation. It requires renewed understanding of the transformation towards which the form of life is directed.

A fifth consequence concerns spiritual direction. Those who guide souls require more than goodwill, psychological sensitivity and familiarity with spiritual practices. They must possess sufficient theological understanding to recognise the principal operations of grace, the characteristic difficulties of different phases of spiritual growth and the distinction between authentic transformation and its possible appearances.

Finally, the formation of the laity must be reconsidered in the light of the universal call to holiness. The Church cannot proclaim that every Christian is called to the fullness of love while treating the deeper understanding of the journey towards that fullness as the exclusive concern of specialists. Theological knowledge must be communicated according to the capacities and responsibilities of different persons, but its fundamental orientation must remain available to the whole People of God. St. John Paul II’s Novo millennio ineunte, no. 31, speaks of the necessity of a genuine “training in holiness”.[9] Such training requires not merely enthusiasm for holiness but also the wisdom necessary to understand and support its development.

12. Conclusion: Before Changing Formation, We Must Change What Theology Recognises as a Necessary Question

The purpose of this article has not been to offer a complete theology of spiritual growth. Nor has it been to establish that contemporary Catholic theology universally neglects this subject. Its purpose has been more fundamental: to identify a possible theological deficiency, establish why it matters and develop a method by which its existence and extent can be examined. The decisive question concerns the adequacy of the theological understanding through which the Christian journey towards holiness is explained and transmitted. The Church possesses a rich doctrinal and spiritual tradition. She teaches the universal call to holiness, the primacy of grace, the necessity of conversion and the vocation to the perfection of charity. Yet the existence of these teachings does not automatically ensure that their dynamic interrelationship has been adequately integrated into ordinary theological formation. A theological education may be doctrinally correct and intellectually demanding while remaining insufficiently developed in its explanation of the progressive transformation of the Christian person. Where this occurs, the deficiency is not simply pastoral. It belongs to theology itself. Its consequences can extend through generations, because theology forms the intellectual horizon of those who subsequently teach, preach and guide the Church. What is absent from that horizon may remain absent from the formation they transmit. The deficiency may consequently be perpetuated through an otherwise conscientious process of ecclesiastical education. This is why the problem cannot be solved simply by asking individuals to be more generous, by multiplying programmes or by extending periods of formation.

These measures may have considerable value, but they cannot replace an adequate theological understanding of the reality towards which formation is directed. The reform of formation therefore depends, in a decisive respect, upon the reform of theological understanding. This is not a demand that theology abandon its scientific character. It is a demand that theology take seriously the full implications of the truths it professes. The fundamental task is to make the problem visible. We must bring theologians to recognise that explaining the progressive transformation of the human person by grace is not an optional addition to theological knowledge. It belongs to the understanding of the Christian vocation itself. Only when this question has acquired its proper place within theological consciousness can a particular theological synthesis be adequately considered, examined and received. The first task is therefore not to persuade theologians to accept a proposed answer. It is to establish why the question itself must be asked. For a theology that proclaims the fullness of holiness but cannot adequately explain the journey towards it remains incomplete precisely where the ultimate purpose of Christian life is concerned. And when that incompleteness shapes the formation of those entrusted with guiding others, it becomes a question of responsibility for the entire Church.

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Notes

[1] Second Vatican Council, Dogmatic Constitution Lumen gentium (21 November 1964), nos. 39–42, particularly no. 40. Chapter V establishes the universal vocation to holiness and identifies the perfection of charity as the goal of Christian life.

[2] Catechism of the Catholic Church, nos. 2012–2016, particularly no. 2014. The distinction between the universal vocation to intimate union with Christ and extraordinary mystical signs is particularly important for the present argument.

[3] Second Vatican Council, Decree Optatam totius (28 October 1965), nos. 14–16. No. 16 connects theological study with the nourishment of spiritual life and requires the renewal of the theological disciplines through their living relationship with the mystery of Christ.

[4] St Thomas Aquinas, Summa theologiae, II–II, q. 24, aa. 4–9. Article 9 treats the distinction between beginners, those progressing and the perfect. Articles 4–8 address the increase and perfection of charity. See also II–II, q. 45, on wisdom.

[5] St John of the Cross, The Dark Night, book II, chapters 1–2, 5–10. Chapter 2 treats the imperfections remaining in the spirit after earlier purification. Chapter 10 explains purification and transformation through the comparison with fire acting upon wood. See also The Living Flame of Love for the theology of transforming union.

[6] St Teresa of Jesus, The Interior Castle, Sixth Mansions, chapter 10, particularly section 7 in some editions. Section numbering varies between translations. The passage explicitly relates humility to truth and insists upon truthful self-knowledge before God.

[7] Second Vatican Council, Dogmatic Constitution Dei Verbum (18 November 1965), no. 8. The Council describes the growth of understanding within the Church through contemplation, study, spiritual experience and the teaching of the successors of the apostles.

[8] St John Paul II, Post-Synodal Apostolic Exhortation Pastores dabo vobis (25 March 1992), nos. 45, 51–55. Particular attention should be given to the relationship between spiritual and intellectual formation.

[9] St John Paul II, Apostolic Letter Novo millennio ineunte (6 January 2001), nos. 30–39, particularly nos. 31, 32 and 38. The document connects the universal vocation to holiness with training in holiness, prayer and the primacy of grace.

[10] Pope Francis, Apostolic Constitution Veritatis gaudium (8 December 2017), Foreword, especially nos. 3–4. The document calls for renewal in ecclesiastical studies and for an integrated theological approach grounded in the mystery of Christ.

[11] Pope Francis, Apostolic Letter Ad theologiam promovendam (1 November 2023). The letter, promulgated in Italian, calls for a renewal of theological work attentive to the Church’s mission, contemporary contexts and the relationship between theological reflection and lived reality.

[12] The theological diagnosis proposed in this article must be distinguished from an empirically demonstrated conclusion concerning existing institutions. Establishing the extent of the alleged curricular inadequacy would require comparative research into theological programmes, assessment methods and graduate competencies.

[13] The distinction between different modalities of divine action and human cooperation, mentioned in section 7, is introduced as an area requiring further theological investigation. It should not be assumed that the terminology employed represents an identical technical distinction in all classical authors.

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Bibliography

Primary theological sources

Aquinas, Thomas. Summa theologiae. Particularly I, q. 1; I–II, qq. 109–114; II–II, qq. 23–24 and 45.

John of the Cross, St. The Ascent of Mount Carmel. Particularly books II and III.

John of the Cross, St. The Dark Night. Particularly book II.

John of the Cross, St. The Living Flame of Love.

Teresa of Jesus, St. The Book of Her Life.

Teresa of Jesus, St. The Way of Perfection.

Teresa of Jesus, St. The Interior Castle.

Thérèse of the Child Jesus, St. Story of a Soul. Particularly Manuscripts B and C.

Thérèse of the Child Jesus, St. Act of Oblation to Merciful Love, 9 June 1895.

Ecclesiastical documents

Second Vatican Council. Lumen gentium. Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, 21 November 1964.

Second Vatican Council. Optatam totius. Decree on Priestly Training, 28 October 1965.

Second Vatican Council. Dei Verbum. Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation, 18 November 1965.

Catholic Church. Catechism of the Catholic Church. Particularly nos. 1987–2029.

John Paul II. Pastores dabo vobis. Post-Synodal Apostolic Exhortation, 25 March 1992.

John Paul II. Novo millennio ineunte. Apostolic Letter, 6 January 2001.

Francis. Veritatis gaudium. Apostolic Constitution on Ecclesiastical Universities and Faculties, 8 December 2017.

Francis. Ad theologiam promovendam. Apostolic Letter issued motu proprio, 1 November 2023.

Selected online editions

Lumen gentium: https://www.vatican.va/archive/hist_councils/ii_vatican_council/documents/vat-ii_const_19641121_lumen-gentium_en.html

Optatam totius: https://www.vatican.va/archive/hist_councils/ii_vatican_council/documents/vat-ii_decree_19651028_optatam-totius_en.html

Pastores dabo vobis: https://www.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/apost_exhortations/documents/hf_jp-ii_exh_25031992_pastores-dabo-vobis.html

Novo millennio ineunte: https://www.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/apost_letters/2001/documents/hf_jp-ii_apl_20010106_novo-millennio-ineunte.html

Veritatis gaudium: https://www.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/apost_constitutions/documents/papa-francesco_costituzione-ap_20171208_veritatis-gaudium.html

St Thomas Aquinas, Summa theologiae, II–II, q. 24: https://www.newadvent.org/summa/3024.htm

St John of the Cross, The Dark Night: https://www.ccel.org/ccel/john_cross/dark_night.toc.html

St Teresa of Jesus, The Interior Castle: https://ccel.org/ccel/teresa/castle2/castle2.x.xi.html

See here Articles on Reforming Theology

Addendum: The Museum of Theology — Recovering the Practical and Incarnational Dimension of Theological Education

The Call of Pope Francis for a Living and Practical Theology

The concerns addressed in this addendum are not foreign to the Church’s own understanding of theology. Pope Francis himself repeatedly called for a profound renewal of theological studies, warning against the danger of reducing theology to academic knowledge disconnected from the living reality of Christian faith. In his Letter to the Grand Chancellor of the Pontifical Catholic University of Argentina, dated 3 March 2015, he stated: “We must guard against a theology that is exhausted in academic dispute or one that looks at humanity from a glass castle. You learn so as to live: theology and holiness are inseparable.” In the same letter, Francis warned against the figure of the theologian who remains confined to historical and theoretical knowledge, describing such a person as: “Certainly not a ‘museum’ theologian who gathers data and information on Revelation without, however, really knowing what to do with it.” Eight years later, in his Apostolic Letter Ad Theologiam Promovendam (1 November 2023), Francis returned to the need for a renewal of theological methodology, stating: “Without opposing theory and practice, theological reflection is called to develop through an inductive method, beginning from the different contexts and concrete situations in which people find themselves.” These statements are particularly significant. Pope Francis does not simply ask theology to become more accessible or pastorally relevant. He calls into question a way of practising theology that can remain enclosed within academic knowledge without sufficiently engaging the living reality of faith. The image of the “museum theologian” is especially revealing. It identifies the danger of accumulating knowledge about Revelation while losing sight of what Revelation is intended to accomplish within the human person.

The present addendum takes this concern a step further. If theology is to serve the actual Christian life, and if all Jesus’ words are destined to be received and put into practice, then every theological discipline needs a developed practical complement. This complement must not be left to improvisation, but should be provided by a systematic, mature, and practical Spiritual Theology. The proposal developed here is therefore to give the practical dimension of theological education a place comparable to that of its historical, doctrinal, and conceptual dimensions, so that theological knowledge can genuinely lead towards the transformation of the person and union with God.

References

Francis, Letter to the Grand Chancellor of the Pontifical Catholic University of Argentina on the 100th Anniversary of the Founding of the Faculty of Theology, 3 March 2015. Official Vatican English translation: https://press.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/letters/2015/documents/papa-francesco_20150303_lettera-universita-cattolica-argentina.html

Francis, Apostolic Letter issued motu proprio, Ad Theologiam Promovendam, 1 November 2023, no. 8. English translation of the Italian original. Official Vatican text: https://www.vatican.va/content/francesco/it/motu_proprio/documents/20231101-motu-proprio-ad-theologiam-promovendam.html

1. The strange disappearance of practical knowledge from theology

There is something profoundly strange about the way we teach theology today, and indeed about a certain way of teaching subjects at university. Almost everything is presented in the form of a history. We study the history of a subject, the history of its development, the history of its different schools, the history of its great representatives, the history of the controversies surrounding it, and the history of its interpretation. We seem to have developed a remarkable ability to turn almost any subject into a historical subject. But what happens when the subject is essentially practical? What happens when the reality we are studying is something we are supposed to do, to live, to practise, and eventually to master?

Take ceramics, for example. Imagine somebody spending five years at university studying ceramics. They learn the history of pottery, its origins, its development through different civilisations, the various schools of ceramic art, the evolution of its techniques, and the lives and achievements of the greatest potters. They become capable of writing an excellent doctoral thesis on ceramics. Yet, after five years, they have never made a single piece of pottery! Worse still, nobody has taught them how to make one. Would we consider this satisfactory? Would we say that this person has been properly trained in ceramics? Would we call them a potter? Certainly not. We would recognise that they possess considerable historical knowledge about pottery, but that they have not learnt the art of pottery.

Let us take another example: physiotherapy. Imagine that a university offers a course in physiotherapy, but that the entire programme is dedicated to the history of physiotherapy. Students learn the various schools, the evolution of therapeutic methods, the biographies of famous physiotherapists, and the controversies concerning different approaches. They pass their examinations, obtain their degrees, and eventually become professors of physiotherapy. Yet they have never learnt how to examine a patient, identify a physical dysfunction, or carry out an appropriate therapeutic intervention. Such a situation would be absurd. The education would have failed to address the very reality it claimed to teach. And yet, when we come to theology, and particularly to spiritual theology, we seem strangely content with precisely this type of education.

We study the history of contemplation, but do we learn how to contemplate? (In fact we have no clue! or leave it to the private sphere.) We study the history of prayer, but do we learn how to pray? We study the history of spiritual direction, but do we learn the practical art of directing souls? We study the theological virtue of faith, its definition, its object, its development throughout the centuries, and its treatment by different theologians. But are we ever systematically taught how to make a genuine act of faith?

Faith is not simply a concept to be understood. It is a living theological virtue, something we are called to exercise. The Christian must make acts of faith throughout life, especially when confronted by uncertainty, darkness, suffering, or the demands of God. Yet an entire course on faith can be completed without ever addressing the practical question: how does a person actually exercise faith today? What is an act of faith from a practical point of view? What takes place within the person? How do the intellect and the will cooperate with grace? What are the obstacles? How can faith be strengthened through its exercise?

We know a great deal about the virtue, but we do not necessarily know how to practise it, ie the act! There is something seriously wrong here.

2. Keeping the subject at a safe distance

This way of approaching a subject reminds me of something I have observed in British social behaviour. There is a certain reluctance to look directly at somebody in the street, to stare, to look another person in the eyes. We avoid direct confrontation with the other person, maintaining a respectful distance. Something similar seems to have happened in academic theology, although with much more serious consequences. We never really face the subject itself. We approach it indirectly, through its history, its descriptions, its interpretations, its bibliography, and the debates surrounding it. We remain at a safe distance. We look at everything that has been said about the reality, but somehow avoid the reality itself. It is almost as though we have placed the entire Christian tradition in a museum. Every object is carefully labelled, dated, classified, and protected. We know where it comes from, who produced it, how it developed, and what other scholars have said about it. Everything is preserved behind glass, or under a transparent plastic covering. We are allowed to observe, analyse, compare, classify, and discuss. But we are not expected to touch it, use it, enter into it, or allow it to transform us.

We have transformed the living realities of Christian life into museum exhibits.

And the most astonishing aspect of this situation is that we seem perfectly satisfied with it! We have become so accustomed to this way of studying and teaching theology that we hardly notice the absence of the practical dimension. Nobody seems particularly troubled by the fact that we can produce highly qualified specialists in the history of prayer who may not know how to teach somebody to pray. We have become so clever that we have managed to transform almost the whole of theology into a history of theology. Certainly, historical study is indispensable. We need to know the history of doctrine, the development of theological language, the writings of the Fathers and Doctors of the Church, and the circumstances in which particular teachings emerged. Christianity is inseparable from history. But history is supposed to lead us towards the reality it describes. It cannot replace that reality. The history of contemplation is not contemplation. The history of faith is not the exercise of faith. The history of spiritual direction is not the art of spiritual direction. And the history of theology is not the entirety of theology. This distinction appears so obvious when applied to ceramics or physiotherapy that nobody would dream of questioning it. Why, then, do we so readily accept its disappearance when studying the Christian spiritual life?

3. The fundamental principle: All Jesus’ words are incarnable

Here we reach the theological principle that, in my view, should govern the whole question.

All Jesus’ words are incarnable.

By this I mean that everything Jesus teaches us is destined to become a living reality within us. His words are not simply propositions to be understood, doctrines to be classified, or historical statements to be examined. They are words of life, addressed to human beings, calling for a response and intended to be received, assimilated, and put into practice. The Word became flesh in Jesus Christ.

– Is John 1:14 About the Incarnation?

This unique and unrepeatable mystery of the Incarnation is the foundation of our salvation. But the Word also wishes to dwell in us, to transform us, to shape our thoughts, our desires, our decisions, our actions, and the whole of our being. We are not speaking here of another Incarnation in the strict Christological sense, but of the Word becoming operative and bearing fruit within us through grace. Christ wishes His words to take flesh in our lives. This is precisely what we mean when we speak of putting the Word of God into practice. Jesus does not say, “Study my commandments and become specialists in their historical development.” He says, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (Jn 14:15, RSV-CE). He also says, “If you know these things, blessed are you if you do them” (Jn 13:17, RSV-CE).

The entire teaching of Jesus is directed towards this passage from hearing to doing, from receiving to living, from understanding to allowing the Word to transform us. This principle has immense consequences for theology.

If the words of Jesus are incarnable, theology cannot consider its task completed when it has explained their meaning, established their historical context, or analysed their doctrinal implications. It must also ask how these words can become a reality in the person who receives them. How is this word to be put into practice? What act does it call for? What transformation does it require? What obstacles will the person encounter? How does grace enable this transformation? How does the exercise of this word develop through the successive stages of spiritual growth?

These questions are not secondary to the theological task. They belong to the very nature of Christian revelation.

A theological teaching that explains the Word without explaining how it can become life within us remains incomplete.

The problem is therefore not simply that we have neglected practical exercises. It is that we have lost sight of a fundamental property of the teaching of Jesus: it is given to us in order to be lived. The Word must pass from the page to the heart, from the mind to the will, from understanding to action, and from action to a stable transformation of the person through grace. In this sense, the task of theology is not only to study divine revelation, but also to illuminate the ways in which the human person receives revelation, cooperates with it, and is transformed by it.

4. A necessary consequence: Every theological discipline needs its practical complement

If we take this principle seriously, it becomes impossible to leave practical Spiritual Theology in a marginal position within theological education. I would go further: every theological discipline should be accompanied by a substantial practical complement, provided by a developed, systematic, and practical Spiritual Theology. I would even propose a 50–50 principle.

– See Integral Theology Project

For every theological subject, there should be a corresponding practical formation of comparable importance. Half the educational effort should be dedicated to understanding the reality through Scripture, Tradition, history, doctrine, and theological analysis; the other half should address how that same reality is to be received, exercised, lived, and developed within the Christian person.

The 50–50 principle is not intended as a mechanical division of every lecture into two equal parts. It expresses a fundamental demand concerning the completeness of theological education. Neither dimension should be treated as incidental. The practical and spiritual dimension deserves the same seriousness, intellectual rigour, preparation, and educational resources as the doctrinal and historical dimension.

Let us be clear: I am not proposing that theology should become less scientific or less demanding. Quite the contrary. I am asking theology to develop a dimension of its own knowledge that has remained gravely underdeveloped. A complete theological education should bring together two inseparable questions.

The first is: What is this reality? What has God revealed about it? How has the Church understood it? How have the Fathers, Doctors, and theologians explained it?

The second is: How does this reality become operative in us? How do we practise it? How do we cooperate with grace? How does it develop, mature, and bear fruit in our lives?

The first question is indispensable, but the second is equally indispensable. And the second requires its own developed theological knowledge. It cannot be reduced to an occasional practical suggestion at the end of a lecture, nor can it simply be entrusted to the private initiative of the student.

For this reason, Spiritual Theology must be developed sufficiently to provide every theological discipline with its practical complement.

It would have to become a genuinely operative theological science, capable of describing the functioning of grace, the cooperation of the human faculties, the different stages of spiritual growth, the obstacles encountered, and the concrete ways in which the Word of God is progressively incarnated in the human person.

It would not replace dogmatic theology, biblical studies, moral theology, sacramental theology, or liturgical theology. Rather, it would accompany and complete them, helping each discipline reach its proper fruit in the spiritual life of the student. This would profoundly change the organisation of theological education. The student would no longer be invited merely to understand a particular doctrine. They would also be guided towards its actual exercise. And this practical formation would not be improvised. It would require a properly articulated body of knowledge, competent teachers, appropriate methods, examples, diagrams, exercises, and a progressive pedagogy adapted to the stages of the spiritual life.

5. What would this look like in actual theological teaching?

Let us take some concrete examples.

Biblical studies: From exegesis to listening to the Living Word

We have developed extremely sophisticated methods of exegesis. We study the original languages, literary structures, historical contexts, sources, redaction processes, and theological intentions of the biblical authors. These are genuine achievements, and I have no intention of dismissing their value. But after years of studying Scripture, are students taught how to listen to the Living Word of God? I do not mean merely understanding the meaning of a biblical passage. I mean learning how to stand before the living Christ, who speaks to us today through Scripture, and how to listen to what He is asking of us. There is an enormous difference between dissecting a biblical verse and listening to the living Word. A student may be capable of explaining the grammatical structure of a Gospel passage, identifying its literary sources, comparing different interpretations, and discussing its theological meaning. Yet when asked, “What is Jesus saying to you today through this Word? What is He asking you to do? How are you going to put His Word into practice?”, the student may have received no formation enabling them to answer. But is this not precisely what Scripture is for? A complete course in biblical studies should therefore include a practical complement in Lectio Divina. Students should be taught how to approach the Word in faith, how to gather their attention, how to put aside competing concerns, how to ask Jesus what He wishes to communicate, and how to persevere in listening until they perceive the particular light He is giving them. They should learn to move from a general understanding of the readings towards a more precise light, and from that light towards one concrete act to be accomplished.

They should learn to recognise that listening is not complete until the Word has been put into practice. This practical formation would require actual exercises. Students could be guided through the process of Lectio Divina, learn to distinguish between studying a passage and listening to Christ through it, write down the light they believe they have received, identify the concrete act it calls for, and later examine whether they have put it into practice.

Simple diagrams could help them understand the relationship between the written text, the living Christ who speaks, the light received by the intellect, the movement of the will, and the concrete act. The objective is not to teach students to manufacture divine inspiration or to identify their own thoughts automatically with the voice of Christ. It is to form them in a responsible supernatural relationship with the Word of God, guided by faith, discernment, and the Church’s teaching.

True listening demands the whole person. It involves the intellect, the will, the heart, and the decision to obey. It is already an act of love, because we are placing the will of Jesus above our own. Biblical exegesis would then be complemented by the practical art of listening to the Living Word.

Dogmatic theology: From studying faith to making acts of faith

Let us take the theological virtue of faith. A student can study its definition, its object, its theological structure, its relationship with reason, and the historical debates concerning it. All this is necessary. But what about the exercise of faith? What is an act of faith? How do we make one? How does it involve the intellect and the will? What takes place when we choose to believe God in a situation where our natural understanding is insufficient? How does faith operate in darkness? How does it develop through repeated acts? How is it purified through the action of God? These questions should be systematically addressed. A practical complement to the theology of faith would provide examples taken from ordinary Christian life. It would present actual situations requiring acts of faith, explain the inner movements involved, distinguish faith from mere optimism or psychological reassurance, and guide the student towards its exercise. Diagrams could illustrate the relationship between the intellect, the will, the theological virtue, the assistance of grace, and the supernatural act. Exercises could help students identify situations in which they are called to exercise faith, formulate the act required, and understand what it means to adhere to God rather than to their own immediate perceptions. The same approach should be applied to hope and charity, to humility, obedience, patience, and the other virtues.

Moreover, students must understand that the virtues themselves undergo a profound transformation during the stages of the spiritual life. Their exercise is not identical before and after the deep purifications brought about by God. A developed Spiritual Theology must explain the passage from their exercise in the human mode to their exercise in the divine mode, particularly through the dark night of the spirit.

Thus, a course on the theological virtues would not simply describe them. It would help students understand how these virtues are actually exercised, strengthened, purified, and brought to maturity.

This is precisely the measure of a healthy, living, and workable theology: its capacity not only to explain a theological reality, but also to show how it can be put into practice. Otherwise, theology remains intellectually articulated but practically ineffective. It is confined to the conceptual and theoretical level, without adequately addressing the practical realisation of the truths it teaches or their transformative effects upon the Christian life. Such a theology becomes sterile: it fails to bear the fruits towards which theological knowledge is ultimately directed and does not adequately equip students to bear fruit in their own spiritual lives. The ultimate purpose of theology is not merely to communicate knowledge about God, but to lead the human person, through an ever-deepening understanding of divine Revelation and cooperation with grace, towards the knowledge and love of God, progressive transformation in Christ, and ultimately the fullness of charity and union with Him. Theology must therefore serve not only the understanding of revealed truth but also its incarnation in the life of the believer. When it fails to provide the practical knowledge necessary for this transformation, it ceases to fulfil an essential dimension of its vocation. Instead of serving as a guide towards the actual exercise of the Christian life and progressive union with God, it remains essentially descriptive, providing knowledge about spiritual realities without sufficiently enabling students to enter into them, practise them, and be transformed by them.

Liturgical theology: From the history of the Mass to the art of participating in it

The same difficulty appears in liturgical theology. We study the history of the Mass, the development of the Roman Rite, the origins of the Eucharistic prayers, the theological meaning of the different parts of the celebration, and the changes introduced at different periods of the Church’s history. All this is important. But what about the practical spiritual act of participating in the Mass? How do we enter spiritually into the liturgy? How do we prepare ourselves interiorly? How do we listen to Jesus during Mass? How do we unite ourselves to His offering? How do we lift up our hearts to the Lord, not merely by pronouncing the liturgical response, but by actually making the corresponding interior movement? How do we receive Holy Communion fruitfully? How do we welcome the Lord who gives Himself to us? How do we allow the grace of Communion to remain active within us? How do we prolong that communion with Him, instead of simply moving on to the next activity of the day? These are not secondary questions. They concern the very purpose of liturgical participation. The practical complement to liturgical theology should therefore explain how to live each part of the Mass spiritually. Students should be shown, through examples and diagrams, the relationship between the external liturgical action and the corresponding interior act. They should learn how to prepare themselves before Mass, how to receive the Word during the Liturgy of the Word, how to participate in the offering during the Eucharistic liturgy, and how to prolong their union with Christ after Communion (See St. Teresa of Avila. This is still Theology!). Practical exercises should help them understand and develop these interior dispositions.

The objective would not be to introduce subjective practices that compete with the liturgy. It would be to help the faithful enter more deeply into the very reality celebrated by the Church.

This is precisely the direction indicated by the Second Vatican Council. Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 11, insists that the faithful must “cooperate with divine grace lest they receive it in vain”. The same paragraph calls for participation that is conscious, active, and fruitful.

The Council does not ask merely for a better historical understanding of the liturgy. It asks for a formation that enables the faithful to live it.

Eucharistic adoration: From recommending prayer to teaching prayer

The example of Eucharistic adoration makes the problem even clearer. We may be fervent Christians. We love the Lord, we believe in His presence in the Blessed Sacrament, and we generously decide to spend an hour in adoration. But what are we supposed to do during that hour? Nobody may ever have taught us. We sit in silence. Perhaps we say some prayers, read a spiritual book, recite the Rosary, or simply remain there. These practices can be good and fruitful. But who has taught us what adoration actually involves as a spiritual act? How do we direct our attention towards Jesus? How do we offer ourselves to Him? How do we listen? How do we respond to His presence? How do we deal with distractions? How do we distinguish between what we can do through our own activity, supported by grace, and what God Himself may begin to accomplish within us? What does it mean to adore with our whole being? We are encouraged to adore, but we are not necessarily taught how to adore. A developed practical Spiritual Theology should address precisely these questions. It should explain the faculties involved in prayer, their proper use, the difference between meditation and contemplation, the different forms of God’s action, and the way the person cooperates with grace. It should provide practical exercises, examples of difficulties and their solutions, diagrams illustrating the functioning of prayer, and guidance adapted to the different stages of spiritual growth. This is not about imposing a rigid technique upon prayer. It is about providing the knowledge necessary for a person to enter responsibly into a living relationship with God. Why should the most important activity of our life, our relationship with the living God, be left so largely to improvisation?

Moral theology: From knowing what is right to learning how to do it

Moral theology provides another particularly revealing example. We study the commandments, moral principles, virtues, sins, conscience, freedom, and responsibility. We learn how to identify the moral character of human actions and how to distinguish right from wrong. But how do we actually become capable of doing what is right? How is conscience formed? How does a person develop a genuine love of truth? How do we learn to recognise the layers of self-deception that we can place between our conscience and reality? How do we purify our intentions? How do we become capable of acting according to the truth even when it challenges us? How do we practise humility? How do we confront pride? How do we become increasingly transparent before God and before our own conscience? These questions require much more than moral definitions. A practical complement should teach students how to examine their intentions, recognise interior resistance, form their conscience, exercise freedom responsibly, and cooperate with grace in the development of virtue. It should also explain the successive stages through which God purifies the roots of our behaviour, so that the virtues themselves are progressively transformed. In this way, moral theology would be complemented by a theology of the actual transformation of the person.

Spiritual direction: From knowing its history to learning the art of guiding souls

Finally, let us consider spiritual direction. A future priest or spiritual director may study its history, its development through the centuries, its major schools, and the writings of the great spiritual masters. But does this prepare the person to guide a soul? How does a director recognise the stage of spiritual development of the person before them? How does he navigate in the internal forum of the directee? How do they distinguish between an ordinary difficulty in prayer and a deeper purification brought about by God? How do they recognise whether the person is responding generously to grace or resisting it? How do they help someone move forward without imposing their own ideas or interfering with the action of the Holy Spirit? A genuine formation in spiritual direction requires a developed theology of spiritual growth, a practical knowledge of the different stages of the spiritual life, and supervised exercises in discernment and accompaniment. Case studies, diagrams of spiritual development, concrete examples, and supervised practical work should be essential components of the curriculum. Historical knowledge remains indispensable, but it must lead towards the acquisition of the practical and sapiential competence necessary for the responsible guidance of souls.

6. The need for a real pedagogy: Examples, diagrams, and practical exercises

The proposal I am making is therefore not simply to include occasional spiritual reflections in theological courses. I am proposing the development of a genuine practical pedagogy within theological education. If the Word of God is to become incarnated in our lives, students must be given the means to understand how this happens and how they are called to cooperate with it. This requires more than listening to lectures and passing examinations. It requires examples that show how theological principles operate in actual situations. It requires diagrams that make the inner structure of spiritual acts intelligible. It requires practical exercises through which students learn to use their faculties, identify obstacles, make decisions, and cooperate with grace. It requires the repeated exercise of what has been learnt, together with appropriate guidance and correction. Consider what happens when somebody learns a musical instrument. The teacher does not simply explain the history of music or describe the structure of the instrument. They demonstrate, explain, correct, and guide the student through repeated practice. The student gradually acquires the art. Something analogous is needed in theological education, while always respecting the essential difference between a human art and the supernatural action of God. A student learning about Lectio Divina should actually be guided in Lectio Divina. A student learning about acts of faith should be taught how to make them. A student learning about humility should be shown how humility is exercised and how it develops. A student learning about the Eucharist should be helped to understand and practise the interior participation required by the liturgy. In each case, the practical exercise is not a decorative addition. It belongs to the educational process itself.

The diagrams would not replace the spiritual reality, but would help explain its structure. The examples would not exhaust the richness of grace, but would help the student recognise its operation. The exercises would not produce supernatural contemplation, but would teach the person how to dispose themselves and cooperate with God. The objective is to give the student access to a practical theological intelligence of the Christian life.

This would also require a rethinking of assessment. If the curriculum includes practical spiritual knowledge, we cannot examine students only on their capacity to repeat definitions or describe historical developments.

We should also examine their capacity to explain the practical exercise of a theological reality, distinguish its different operations, identify obstacles, propose appropriate means, and apply sound theological principles to concrete situations.

Such assessment must respect the mystery of the person’s relationship with God. It would be neither possible nor appropriate to award academic marks for holiness, the degree of charity, or the reception of infused contemplation. What can be assessed is the student’s understanding of the practical teaching, their discernment, their ability to explain it, and their competence in applying it responsibly.

This is how the 50–50 principle could become a serious educational proposal rather than a vague aspiration.

7. Where is the Master Artisan?

This brings me to another important point: the disappearance, or at least the marginalisation, of the master practitioner. When we learn pottery, we need somebody who knows how to work with clay. A master potter knows the material, its resistance, its possibilities, and the difficulties encountered by a beginner. Such a person does not merely describe pottery. They know how to make pottery, and they can teach another person how to acquire the art. The same is true of physiotherapy, medicine, music, and countless other practical disciplines. We expect the teacher to possess practical competence, not simply historical or theoretical knowledge. But what happens in theology? We may find ourselves studying contemplation under the guidance of somebody who has an excellent knowledge of the history of contemplation, but who has no substantial practical competence in the contemplative life.

This is not a criticism of the person’s intellectual abilities. Their historical knowledge may be exceptional. The problem is that historical knowledge and practical spiritual competence are not identical. Knowing everything that St Teresa of Avila said about prayer does not automatically mean knowing how to pray as she taught, or knowing how to guide somebody through the difficulties of prayer.

A professor may explain the different stages of spiritual growth described by St John of the Cross without being capable of recognising these stages in the concrete life of a person, discerning the action of God, or helping that person cooperate with grace.

The difficulty is particularly serious because the spiritual life is not simply a human technique. We cannot produce infused contemplation through exercises, just as we cannot manufacture the supernatural action of the Holy Spirit. God is the principal agent. His action is free, personal, and sovereign.

Nevertheless, this does not eliminate the need for practical knowledge. On the contrary, it makes such knowledge even more demanding.

We need to understand how grace operates, how human freedom cooperates with it, how the person prepares for God’s action, how obstacles are removed, how discernment is exercised, and how the different stages of spiritual growth unfold.

We need to distinguish between what can be accomplished through human activity with the ordinary assistance of grace and what requires a more direct, transforming action of God.

These are not merely historical questions. They concern the actual operations of grace within the human person.

They require theological understanding, but also practical and sapiential competence.

Where are the master artisans of the spiritual life? Where are the teachers who know not only what the great spiritual masters wrote, but also how their teaching illuminates what God is doing in souls today?

And, even more importantly, how does our theological education prepare such teachers?

If every theological discipline is to receive its practical complement, we shall also need to form professors who possess the competence to teach it.

A developed practical Spiritual Theology requires teachers capable of bringing together doctrinal accuracy, knowledge of the spiritual tradition, discernment, practical experience, and pedagogical skill.

Without such teachers, the reform will remain theoretical.

8. The ethical responsibility of teaching

There is an ethical question here that deserves serious attention. In education, we have a responsibility to distinguish between knowing about something and knowing how to do it. We cannot responsibly offer a purely historical education in a practical subject and then behave as though the student has acquired the necessary practical competence. In medicine, this distinction would be obvious. A person who knows the history of surgery is not thereby qualified to perform surgery. Why should spiritual theology be exempt from this elementary distinction? If somebody has studied the history of spiritual direction, we cannot simply assume that they are capable of directing souls. If somebody has studied the history of mystical theology, we cannot conclude that they are competent to accompany a person undergoing deep spiritual purification. There is a responsibility towards the student, but also towards those whom the student will eventually serve. This becomes particularly serious in priestly formation.

A future priest may study the history and theology of prayer without knowing how to teach a parishioner to pray. He may learn the doctrinal meaning of conversion without knowing how to accompany a person through an actual conversion. He may study the different stages of the spiritual life without knowing how to recognise them or help somebody progress through them.

What kind of formation have we given him?

It would be unfair to blame the priest alone for these deficiencies. We must first examine the education he received. What questions were considered important during his years of study? What knowledge was required? What practical capacities were expected? Who taught him, and what were those teachers themselves trained to do? This is precisely why I maintain that the problem is fundamentally theological. Theology forms our future priests, bishops, theologians, and teachers. It shapes their understanding of the Christian life, determines the questions they consider important, and establishes the horizon within which they exercise their ministry. If theology does not adequately address spiritual growth as a living, practical reality, we should not be surprised when the same inadequacy appears throughout the life of the Church. We cannot expect to transform the formation of the faithful without first examining the theology that forms their formators.

9. An intellectual education that can conceal its own inadequacy

Perhaps the most troubling aspect of this situation is that our academic system can continue to function perfectly well while this essential dimension remains absent. Students attend lectures, read books, write essays, pass examinations, and obtain degrees. Professors publish articles, participate in conferences, supervise doctoral research, and advance in their academic careers. Institutions maintain their standards and receive recognition for the quality of their teaching. Everything appears to function. But what exactly are we measuring? We measure the student’s capacity to understand and reproduce historical and conceptual knowledge. We examine their ability to compare authors, analyse arguments, interpret texts, and discuss theological controversies. These are valuable intellectual achievements. Yet they do not necessarily tell us whether the student has learnt how to exercise the Christian virtues, how to listen to the Word of God, how to pray, how to participate fruitfully in the liturgy, or how to help another person grow spiritually. And if such questions are absent from the curriculum, they will probably also be absent from the examinations. This is how an educational system can become incapable of recognising its own inadequacy. It judges itself according to the criteria it has established. If historical and conceptual mastery are treated as sufficient, then success in acquiring them will be taken as evidence that theological education has achieved its purpose.

The practical absence remains invisible.

We can therefore produce generations of academically qualified theologians who reproduce the same understanding of theology, train future teachers according to the same criteria, and perpetuate the same omissions.

The problem becomes self-reproducing.

This explains why the inadequacy may persist without provoking any substantial crisis within the academic institution. The institution is able to meet all its own requirements. It is simply not asking some of the questions that ought to determine whether its teaching is complete.

We may be satisfied with the academic quality of theology precisely because we have restricted our understanding of what theological quality means.

The proposed 50–50 principle would oblige institutions to confront this problem. Every discipline would have to answer not only for the accuracy of the knowledge it transmits, but also for the practical theological formation that accompanies it.

We would no longer consider a course complete simply because its historical, doctrinal, and conceptual content had been covered.

We would also ask whether the student had been taught how the theological reality in question can become operative in Christian life.

This would introduce a new criterion of completeness into theological education.

10. We have separated what Jesus has united

Ultimately, this situation reveals a profound contradiction between our way of teaching Christianity and the way Jesus Himself teaches. Everything in the teaching of Jesus calls for a response. His words are not intended to remain simply objects of intellectual consideration. They are to be believed, received, obeyed, and put into practice.

The Gospels constantly unite hearing and doing, knowing and living, faith and obedience, love and the keeping of His commandments.

Jesus says, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (Jn 14:15, RSV-CE).

This is not merely a moral exhortation added to an intellectual teaching. It reveals the very nature of the relationship between Christ and His disciples.

Listening to Jesus, receiving His Word, and putting it into practice are fundamental acts of the Christian spiritual life. Through them, the person enters into an increasingly profound relationship with Him and grows in love.

Yet we have developed a way of studying His teaching that can remain almost entirely at the level of description.

We explain what Jesus said, how His words were transmitted, how the Fathers interpreted them, how the scholastic theologians developed their meaning, and how modern scholars understand them.

But the decisive question, “How do I actually put this into practice today?”, can remain unanswered.

It is almost as though we have created a forbidden area within theology: the practical exercise of the realities we are studying.

We are allowed to know everything about the subject, provided we do not ask too insistently how it is actually done.

This is a strange situation for a religion whose Founder continually calls His disciples to put His words into practice.

And it is precisely here that the incarnability of Jesus’ words becomes the decisive criterion.

If His words are destined to take flesh in our lives, then every theological explanation should remain open towards their actual realisation within us.

Theology should help us pass from the knowledge of the Word to its reception, from its reception to its exercise, and from its exercise to the progressive transformation of our being.

The contradiction is even more striking when we remember the stated intentions of the Church herself.

The Second Vatican Council, in Optatam Totius, no. 16, teaches that theological disciplines should enable students to penetrate Catholic doctrine profoundly and “make it the food of their own spiritual lives”.

Theology must therefore nourish the spiritual life. It cannot be satisfied with the accurate transmission of information.

Likewise, Pope Francis, in Veritatis Gaudium, no. 4(a), identifies contemplation as the first criterion for the renewal of ecclesiastical studies and insists upon an intellectual, spiritual, and existential introduction to the Gospel.

The same passage speaks of the Gospel continuing to take flesh within the life of the Church and humanity.

The Church’s own principles point towards a much more integrated understanding of theological education than one in which the historical and conceptual dimensions dominate to the exclusion of the practical.

The real question is why we have not sufficiently translated these principles into the actual content and methods of our theological teaching.

11. Spiritual Theology as the necessary practical complement of all theology

We must therefore reconsider the place of Spiritual Theology within the organisation of theological knowledge.

Spiritual Theology is frequently treated as one discipline among others, sometimes as an optional or relatively specialised subject. It may be studied towards the end of a theological programme or offered as a particular field of interest.

But if the entire Christian revelation is intended to become life within us, then the practical knowledge of how this happens cannot remain confined to one marginal discipline.

Spiritual Theology has a responsibility towards the whole of theology.

It should provide the developed understanding of spiritual growth necessary to connect each theological subject with its actual exercise in Christian life.

This is why I propose that every discipline should have its practical complement, developed in collaboration with Spiritual Theology.

The relationship should not be one of competition. Dogmatic theology would continue to investigate and explain the mysteries of faith. Biblical studies would continue to examine Scripture with all the rigour of their scientific methods. Liturgical theology would continue to study the nature, history, and meaning of Christian worship. Moral theology would continue to examine human action in the light of revelation and reason.

But each discipline would be accompanied by the practical theological knowledge that helps the student enter into the reality being studied.

In this way, Spiritual Theology would become an essential partner in the entire process of theological education.

It would also require a much more complete development of Spiritual Theology itself.

We need a systematic account of the spiritual life, from its beginnings to its maturity, capable of explaining the successive stages of growth, the functioning of the human faculties, the action of grace, the obstacles encountered, the role of purification, and the progressive transformation of the virtues.

We need a clear understanding of the difference between the human and divine modes of the Holy Spirit’s action. We need to understand how the person cooperates with grace during the earlier stages and how the more direct transforming action of God brings about a profound purification of the roots of behaviour, particularly through the dark night of the spirit.

We need to understand how the Christian advances towards union with God and the fullness of love, not simply as an abstract ideal, but as a real possibility offered by grace.

Only such a developed Spiritual Theology will be capable of providing the practical complements required by the other theological disciplines.

This is not a proposal to reduce theology to spirituality. It is a proposal to restore the organic relationship between theological knowledge and the actual Christian life.

Theology should not merely explain the path to holiness. It should provide the knowledge necessary for that path to be understood, followed, and taught responsibly.

And because the path is supernatural, the explanation must be theological, rooted in revelation, enlightened by the experience of the saints, and attentive to the action of the Holy Spirit.

12. The reform required is theological before it is pedagogical

One possible response to this criticism would be to propose a few practical sessions alongside existing historical courses. We might add an introduction to prayer, a workshop on Lectio Divina, or a short programme on spiritual accompaniment.

Such initiatives can certainly be useful. But they do not necessarily address the root of the problem.

The question is not simply whether we should add a little practice to an otherwise complete theoretical education.

The question is whether our conception of theology itself is complete.

If theology understands its task as the study of doctrines, texts, historical developments, and conceptual systems, while treating the actual growth of the spiritual life as a secondary or supplementary concern, the addition of a few practical exercises will not fundamentally change the situation.

We need to reconsider what a complete theological treatment of a subject requires.

The reform I am proposing is therefore theological before it is pedagogical.

We must first recognise that the practical exercise of revealed truth belongs to the subject matter of theology. Once this is acknowledged, the necessary educational consequences follow.

We shall need properly developed practical courses, suitable teaching materials, examples, diagrams, and exercises. We shall need to form teachers capable of providing this instruction. We shall need to rethink the criteria by which theological education is judged complete.

The 50–50 principle gives concrete expression to this reform.

It means that the practical dimension is no longer treated as an optional consequence of theological study, but as an integral part of it.

Every theological discipline would be required to show how the truth it teaches is destined to be received, exercised, and brought to maturity within Christian life.

Of course, the actual distribution of hours and teaching methods would vary according to the nature of the discipline. But the principle of an equally serious commitment to understanding and living the truth should govern the whole curriculum.

Such a reform would not weaken academic theology. It would give theology a more complete understanding of its own task.

See here Articles on Reforming Theology

13. Conclusion: From the museum back to the living reality

We have managed to create a strange situation. We study the history of almost everything, but frequently fail to learn how to do the very things we are studying. We study the history of pottery without making a pot. We study the history of physiotherapy without treating a patient. We study the history of contemplation without learning how to contemplate. We study the history of faith without learning how to make an act of faith. We study the history of the Mass without learning how to enter spiritually into its celebration. We study the Bible without learning how to listen to the Living Word. And we seem quite happy with this arrangement. It is an extraordinary absence of practical sense. Yet the consequences are far more serious in theology than in most other disciplines, because theology has a decisive responsibility in shaping the life and mission of the Church. It forms those who will teach, preach, guide, and accompany the faithful. It establishes the intellectual horizon within which the Christian spiritual life is understood and communicated. If that horizon is incomplete, the consequences will be felt throughout the Church. The fundamental issue, therefore, is not that we study too much history. It is that we have allowed historical knowledge to occupy the place of a more complete knowledge of the living reality. We have become highly competent at preserving, describing, and interpreting the treasures of Christian spirituality. But we must also recover the capacity to make those treasures available as a living path of transformation. The great spiritual masters were not merely authors whose writings deserve historical examination. They were practitioners, teachers, and witnesses of the transforming action of God. Their works were written to help human beings progress towards union with Him. To study their writings without seriously attending to this practical purpose is to risk missing something essential in the very nature of their teaching.

We must therefore return from the museum to the living reality. And we must begin with the fundamental conviction that all Jesus’ words are incarnable. They are destined to become life within us. They are given to us to be received, exercised, and put into practice, so that Christ may progressively transform the whole of our being. This is why every theological discipline needs its practical complement. A developed Spiritual Theology must be capable of providing this complement, not as an occasional addition, but as an essential part of a complete theological education. I propose, therefore, a genuine 50–50 principle: an equal seriousness given to the understanding of theological realities and to the knowledge of how they are lived.

We need examples. We need diagrams. We need practical exercises. We need competent teachers who possess not only historical and conceptual knowledge, but also a practical understanding of the spiritual life. We need to teach students not only what faith is, but how to exercise faith; not only what prayer is, but how to pray; not only what the liturgy means, but how to participate in it spiritually and fruitfully; not only what spiritual growth has meant throughout history, but how a person can actually grow towards holiness today.

This is not a call for less theology. It is a call for a more complete theology.

And this brings us back to the fundamental question underlying the present article: How can we continue to regard our theological education as sufficiently complete when it does not systematically address the actual growth of the Christian spiritual life, the concrete cooperation of the human person with grace, and the path leading towards the fullness of love and union with God?

Until this question is recognised as a necessary theological question, rather than merely a pastoral or pedagogical concern, we will continue to treat the symptoms without addressing their cause.

Theology must recover its responsibility towards the living reality of the Christian spiritual life.

For Christianity is not a museum of truths once believed and practices once followed. It is the living presence and action of Jesus Christ, who continues to call every human being to listen to Him, follow Him, and be transformed by His love.

Theology must not stop at explaining the Word. It must also teach us how to receive it, how to put it into practice, and how to allow it to become life within us.

Only then will theology fully serve its purpose: to lead human beings towards union with Christ and the fullness of love.

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Notes and references

1. Second Vatican Council, Optatam Totius, Decree on Priestly Training, 28 October 1965, no. 16. The Council states that theological disciplines should enable students to “make it the food of their own spiritual lives”. It also insists that daily reading and meditation upon Scripture should provide spiritual nourishment.
2. Second Vatican Council, Sacrosanctum Concilium, Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, 4 December 1963, no. 11. The Council teaches that proper interior dispositions and cooperation with divine grace are necessary for fruitful liturgical participation. See also nos. 17–19 concerning liturgical formation and the interior and exterior participation of the faithful.
3. Francis, Veritatis Gaudium, Apostolic Constitution on Ecclesiastical Universities and Faculties, 8 December 2017, Foreword, no. 4(a). Contemplation is identified as the first criterion for the renewal of ecclesiastical studies, within a spiritual, intellectual, and existential introduction to the Christian mystery. See also Articles 69–70 concerning the purpose of theological faculties and the unity of theological instruction.
4. John 13:17; Matthew 7:24; John 14:15. Biblical quotations are taken from the Revised Standard Version, Catholic Edition. These passages express the intrinsic relationship between hearing, knowing, loving, and putting the teaching of Christ into practice.
5. The expression “all Jesus’ words are incarnable” is used here in a spiritual and participatory sense. It does not imply a repetition of the unique Incarnation of the eternal Word, but expresses the capacity of Christ’s teaching to be received, lived, and made fruitful within the believer through grace. See John 1:14; John 14:23; John 15:4–10; Galatians 2:20.
6. The proposed 50–50 principle is a curricular recommendation advanced in this article, not a numerical requirement established by the Magisterium. It calls for comparable seriousness and educational investment in doctrinal understanding and practical spiritual formation.

Bibliography

Second Vatican Council. Optatam Totius. Decree on Priestly Training. 28 October 1965.

Second Vatican Council. Sacrosanctum Concilium. Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy. 4 December 1963.

Francis. Veritatis Gaudium. Apostolic Constitution on Ecclesiastical Universities and Faculties. 8 December 2017.

Teresa of Jesus. The Life; The Way of Perfection; The Interior Castle.

John of the Cross. The Ascent of Mount Carmel; The Dark Night; The Spiritual Canticle; The Living Flame of Love.

The Holy Bible. Revised Standard Version, Catholic Edition.

See here Articles on Reforming Theology