The Spirit Of Truth And The Advocate

The COVID-19 pandemic has forced our lives into isolation. However, one blessing this isolation has brought me is having some spare time. Last week, I used some of this extra time to open a medium-sized box that had not been opened for many years. The box contains some of my personal belongings with a lot of sentimental value. This box has travelled with me from one vicarage to another in NZ, then to Melbourne, then to Dubai, and back to Melbourne.

In the box, I found beautiful souvenirs. They included birthday cards sent to me in my teens by my grandmother, parents, and Godparents; my tenth-grade results sheet; testimonials (or references, as we call them nowadays) written by influential people in my life for my first job interview in 1983; my first laminated job ID, the type-written letter my Bishop wrote accepting me for training to the Priesthood; my first driver license and passport and the like. I was seeing these again after so many years. They made the years of my youth flash before me and flooded me with beautiful memories.

Among these precious mementos were three handwritten lecture notes on foolscap paper (no longer in use). As many of you may remember, in the 1970s and 80s, before the arrival of A4 paper, we used foolscap paper. These were notes that I had preserved from my philosophy classes between 1987 and 1988 at the Catholic Theological Seminary in Kandy, Sri Lanka.

The first two lecture notes were from Plato's Republic: one on his Allegory of the Cave and the other on his account of the near-death experience of the Armenian soldier Er (Plato's Republic -10.614–10.621).

The third set of lecture notes caught my special attention. They were notes on one of Plato's Dialogues called Phaedo, set in the last hours before Socrates was put to death by hemlock poisoning.

There was a reason for my special attention to this third set of notes. A young novice nun from my second-year senior philosophy class, a novice of the Holy Family Religious Order, wrote them for me. I was deeply attracted to her.

My attraction to her was not romantic but devotional. This novice had the spitting image of Saint Bernadette Soubirous, who lived in France in the middle of the nineteenth century. I learned about St Bernadette in Grade 9 at a Catholic School. I was -- and still is -- an ardent admirer of St Bernadette.

The novice's name was Sister Celeste. She had a special presence about her. In her countenance, eyes, and smile, I saw the same mystery, devotion, and otherworldliness that is seen in the face of St Bernadette. As expected of novices, she wore a head covering, enhancing the otherworldly mystery revealed on her face. Her name, Celeste, was perfect for her. Celeste means "heavenly."

Sr Celeste wrote the lecture notes on Plato's Dialogue Phaedo for me because I was too unwell that day to take notes. The notes were written – as we would describe a beautifully rounded script written by any female in colloquial Sinhalese – in "pearly letters." Upon discovering these notes last week, I excitingly read them all in one sitting.

The notes started with a declaration our professor frequently made: "Plato's dialogues are a great place to begin the pursuit of truth." Through the figure of Socrates, Plato raises numerous questions and discusses them in a penetrating way in the dialogues. The Dialogue Phaedo is such a great dialogue.

Plato's philosophical thought has influenced our Western culture in so many ways; the British mathematician and philosopher Alfred North Whitehead said: "All of Western philosophy is a series of footnotes to Plato." (Socrates and Plato lived about 400 years before Jesus)

I wanted to share this story of discovering the notes on Phaedo Sr. Celeste wrote for me for a special reason. In the evening of the same day, while these memories were still quite fresh in my mind, I read the Gospel reading for the day. When I read the Gospel, I was surprised to see the parallels between Socrates comforting his friends before his fast-approaching death and Jesus preparing his friends for his impending departure.

In Phaedo, when Socrates' friends came to see him for the last time, they were surprised to see his peacefulness on this fateful day. The friends had a plan to smuggle him out of jail and told him that it was ridiculous for him to die, leaving behind all the philosophy he had done all his life.

In the same way, in the Gospel reading (at the beginning of Chapter 14 from last week), we see Jesus' disciples perplexed about the calm way Jesus was telling them about his departure. They were reluctant to accept that Jesus had to go. Thomas was so confused that he asked Jesus where he was going. Philip, unsure of what Jesus was saying, asked Jesus to show the Father. (John 14: 5&8)