Plato and Aristotle had some famous disagreements about what the truth is. But they agreed that the quest for truth begins with wonder:

Θαυμάζειν or “thaumazein” is the Greek word translated in both quotes as “wonder”, and it isn’t simple curiosity.

We’re talking about a state of being astonished, experiencing something marvelous. Encountering something with a hint of divinity that deserves respect, fear and perhaps even worship.

The concept isn’t foreign to Christians. “Thaumaturge” is one ancient title for a certain class of saints, which is just the Greek word for “wonderworker”.

The common root here is θαυμά- or “thauma-“.

Saint Gregory Thaumaturgus and Saint John the Wonderworker of San Francisco both carry the title of “Thaumaturge”. The Greeks and the Church agree: Wisdom flows from wonders like their miracles.

The schools of Plato and Aristotle quickly diverge, but they agree on the starting point: being struck with wonder at something marvelous. We must love something before we know it. In order to love it, it has to astonish us first. The motivation must precede the knowledge.

Some marvel has to strike us so deeply that it leaves an impression we remember. We dwell on that impression - our attention keeps returning to the memory; it keeps appearing in our imagination, and we keep thinking about it. Our internal senses focus upon the impression, and as we contemplate it, we learn about the marvel that impressed.

Here’s one way to imagine what happens. Our intellect “crowns” the marvelous object with our full attention, which is why one theologian named this ability our “Coronative Power” (“corona” means ‘crown’ in Latin 👑).

The name comes from Father Michael Maher SJ, who wrote on psychology in the days of William James. Maher’s book was incredibly popular in his day; it went through eight editions, but now it’s nearly lost to time.

Father Maher’s work on the Coronative Power, how our intellect guides our attention, has gotten no attention since his death, not even amongst his fellow Catholic Scholastics.

I found Father Maher’s work to be essential for defending free will in my dissertation, but for all I know, I’m the first person to build on his work since his death. I’ll give you a full walkthrough of his work later.

Let’s continue the technical explanation. Our Coronative Power keeps our attention on the marvel. In the same action, attention points us in two directions; inward and outward.

We draw inward as we crown the marvel’s impression with our attention. Our impression becomes clearer with every pass-over of our imagination. We contemplate and see some aspect we didn’t notice before.

The marvel also draws us outward in the same act of thought. We become inspired, seeking to experience the marvelous reality again. We want to know it, so we seek out its natural dwelling. The marvel’s impressions pull us out of our default existence, pulling us in new directions.

If something truly inspires us, we never stay in bed. The marvel pulls us out of our default life. It makes us ecstatic.

“Ecstatic” literally meaning in Greek: “out-of-our-place”

(ἐκ “out” + στάσις “place”).

Genuine learning is more than data retention. Genuine learning is a manifestation of genuine love. Put another way, wisdom is founded upon a relation. Wisdom begins in our being and our relations to other beings, or it doesn’t begin at all.

Casual curiosity won’t cut it, and I’m sure we all have plenty of experiences to back up the assertion, on top of the writings of Greek philosophers and their Christian interpreters.

A marvel impresses us, then we change our life to understand it, and after a lifetime of study we leave our impression on it through our knowledge. Wisdom is a relation between a marvel and a mind. Both act upon the relation, but the relation also acts upon both.

The marvel leaves its impressions on us, but it becomes an object of love and knowledge. The mind receives impressions, expresses its wisdom, and changes other minds.

Finally, the relation needs both the marvel and mind to exist, and it develops as both perfect their qualities. With time and effort, the relation becomes more intimate.

We must “be” in a certain way before we learn; we must be astonished. Reality must “be” a certain way too; it must be wondrous, which implies it must be good. All involved must be active and good.

We cannot be inert, and creation cannot be inert either. Have you ever noticed that “being” is a verb we repurpose as a noun?

In conclusion, it shouldn’t surprise us to discover that wonder is the common root of all the sciences. Every discipline revolves around the study of some distinct marvel.

Theology begins with marvels of God. Natural sciences begin with marvels of the natural world. Their objects differ, and there lies the fundamental difference between all disciplines.

The basic method driving the disciplines doesn’t change: we encounter a marvel, we’re impressed, we crown the marvel with our attention; we deepen the relation, and eventually we learn the truth of its being.

Every creature is a sign of the God who maintains it. No matter which marvel captures our attention, if we follow it to the depths of its being, we end up contemplating the Being that gives being.

Being is good. If being was bad, we’d never learn. Within every being is some marvelous good that inspires learning. We learn because we see the good.

When's the last time you saw something for the marvel it really is?

On the saying that philosophy begins in thaumazein John Llewelyn. Afterall: A Journal of Art, Context and Enquiry 2001 4:, 48-57. DOI link here

Maher, Michael. Psychology: Empirical and Rational. United Kingdom: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1908. Specifically Part II, Chapters XV - XIX). 6th edition free to read through Google Books

Simon, Yves René Marie. An Introduction to Metaphysics of Knowledge. United States: Fordham University Press, 1990. Mainly Ch 3, starting at section "Passivity of Sense and the Immanent Act of Knowing" to end of chapter.

Maritain, Jacques., Adamson, Margot Robert. The Degrees of Knowledge. United Kingdom: G. Bles, The Centenary Press, 1937. Specifically Chapter 3, Part III "Concerning Knowledge Itself".