This underestimated virtue is what our minds and hearts yearn for, and children are paving the way to teach us all about it.
If you have ever heard of the University of Kansas Integrated Liberal Arts Program, you are unlikely to forget it. This is a legend in the world of Catholic education:
Nearly 50 years ago, the University of Kansas introduced a new liberal arts curriculum. It lasted only about 10 years. But those 10 years have inspired conversions, priestly callings, and so many Catholic initiatives that the program is still making its mark in the life of the Catholic Church.
There was something visionary and inspirational about this program, as evidenced by its enormous impact. As an educator, I’ve been thinking a lot about the program’s motto lately, which was Naskantur in admiration: “Let them be born in a miracle.”
The motto caught my attention, especially after I read some of the writings of Sofia Cavaletti, the founder of the Good Shepherd Catechesis method of religious education. She wrote,
“Early childhood develops under the sign of a miracle”; for a child, everything is a source of wonder, because everything is new. Surprise is an extremely important stimulus to the human spirit, so much so that Plato said, “This feeling of wonder is the mark of a philosopher.” Philosophy really has no other origin.
Why do we have to be “born in a miracle” in order to enter into the immeasurable riches of intellectual life?
I think this is because wonder is the starting point of all forms of inner life, kindling not only the intellectual life of the mind, but also the spiritual life of faith and prayer.
In this sense, surprise is the most underestimated virtue. Like the spark of a match that ignites wood, surprise prompts the mind and heart to begin to search for that which is good, true, and beautiful.
What does life with wonder look like in practice?
It begins with the cultivation of a sense of reverence for the created world. He calls to slow down to notice the good things that surround us.
This thrill can start from the smallest things. When I cut open a pomegranate, I encourage my children to see its bright, gem-like seeds. When we cut an apple in half to find a star, we marvel at the beauty hidden within every part of God’s creation.
These are trivial examples, but in many similar ways I try to pursue the sense of wonder that comes so naturally to my children. Children are leading the way.
Surprise is closely related to gratitude. When we admire beauty, it’s hard not to feel gratitude towards the One who made it all.
The creators of the Integrated Humanities Program understood that many of their students entered college exhausted and burnt out. Like many young people today, they had endless information, but there was no meaning or purpose behind it.
We live in a knowledge-rich culture, with all the facts of the world available at our fingertips. But knowledge alone is not enough without wisdom, without prudence and, above all, without the humility of understanding how little we really know.
As G. K. Chesterton realized, “We perish for lack of a miracle, not for lack of a miracle.”
So I wonder if the answer to the great joy and sense of purpose lies in the brilliant Latin motto of that 1970s college program. Perhaps our hearts and minds yearn to be reborn in a miracle even more than we realize.
