For people of faith, news about the latest scientific studies is often alarming or depressing. Granted, there are always many doctors and scientists performing basic research in important fields. But the topics most frequently reported by the mainstream media are also the most problematic. Are artificial wombs, three-parent babies, and robots performing gender transition surgery the only subjects of research today?
But scientific research is spearheaded by people, not robots, and perhaps we need more doctors and scientists who pattern their professional lives on that of a particular thirteenth-century saint.
He was born Albert von Bollstadt (c. 1206-1280) in Lauingen of modern Germany, and he was sent to study in Padua, Italy, when he was a young man. And study he did. Albert was a teacher’s dream, the sort of student who loved to learn.
Albert did not limit his learning to a classroom. He enjoyed hiking throughout the countryside of Padua, where he hunted, fished, and carefully examined and recorded all that he discovered. During his long life, Albert’s writings covered the sciences of anthropology, astronomy, chemistry, mineralogy, and physics. He wrote about (and classified) many varieties of birds, fish, and snakes. He was an expert on the diseases of horses. He knew the key components of gunpowder. His process of thorough examination and experimentation could have accelerated scientific discoveries by centuries if anyone had bothered to follow his example.
But Albert’s great curiosity was unlike that of many scientists of our day. He loved the natural world, but he loved it for the sake of the God who created it. Albert knew that God Himself was present in all the fascinating animals, plants, and rocks around him, and he simply wanted to know more. Some of his conclusions about the physical world have been disproven in the past seven centuries, and he certainly exceeded the bounds of medieval law when he (quietly) chose to dissect animals in his research. But Albert knew what our culture does not: that curiosity should be balanced so that it remains virtuous, not unbounded in such a way that it becomes a selfish and dangerous habit.
Albert, of course, was not a naturalist by profession. He had become a Dominican priest as a young man, and his order eventually assigned him to serve as a university professor at one of the greatest colleges in the world: the University of Paris. Albert’s decision to study the works of the Greek philosopher Aristotle was considered controversial at the time, but he carefully explained to his students how to learn from Aristotle’s philosophy and reconcile it with Catholic theology.
Although he taught many students during his career, his most famous disciple was Saint Thomas Aquinas. Albert outlived Thomas, and he publicly defended Thomas’ conclusions about Aristotle after Thomas’ death. This was hardly surprising or difficult since Albert himself had taught many of the same ideas. Both men were known as brilliant theologians and philosophers, and both were later named Doctors of the Church (Thomas in 1567, and Albert in 1931).
During his lifetime, he was known as Albert the German or Albert the Theologian. But after his death, his extensive knowledge of practically every science earned him the nickname of Albert the Great (Albertus Magnus in Latin), and later as Saint Albert. But he was also a member of a mendicant (begging) order, was subject to his Dominican superiors, and obediently served the Church and his order as a lecturer, preacher, peacemaker, provincial, and bishop of Regensburg. Modern researchers may envy his voluminous output—he wrote a total of about 20 million words—but they should also envy his humility. Albert did not write to merit awards, impress his peers, or make a profit, but to make the truths he had discovered available to others.
Perhaps the greatest lesson of Albert’s life is the same lesson found in the life of every holy man: his love of God. As a priest and scholar, Albert wrote commentaries about Sacred Scripture. He wrote about virtue and prayer. He wrote philosophical and theological treatises. His many works demonstrate his intelligence, but they also show his spiritual maturity and his ability to explain matters of faith to different audiences.
Although Albert’s writings were popular for many years after his death—and influenced other saints, such as Blessed Henry Suso—Albert’s work was eventually overshadowed by that of Saint Thomas Aquinas. Fortunately, many of his writings have returned to print in recent years, and new biographies of Albert have been published.
Albert the Great was more than a great scientist; he was a saint. May many researchers today be inspired by his example and learn to balance curiosity with respect for God’s creation and to humbly seek the truth more than tenure. And may the writings and witness of Saint Albert the Great help us to seek and love God, who is always waiting to be discovered in the world around us.
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Albert the Great true to Dawn Beutner’s description was a great scientist and saint. I learned from my German thesis director that Albert defined Man as more than a rational animal, that he’s also a moral animal. Saint Albert was the mentor of Saint Thomas Aquinas, both Dominicans.
The proposition that Man is both a rational, and a moral animal clearly distinguishes Man from all creatures in that he can, by capacity of his inherent nature apprehend good and evil. Aquinas’ philosophy and theology is imbued with the pursuit of that premise. That may explain why he didn’t compile his moral theology in a single text.
I chose Albert the Great as my Saint’s name when I first joined the Catholic Church. My choice has been further supported by this nicely written essay. Dr.MWANTHONY