I recently overheard a freshman marveling about the student body’s collective pursuit of virtue “even at the Niedfeldt homecoming party” — where playing “Low” by Flo Rida was the extent of vice. I had to chuckle to myself. It was the most freshman conversation I’d heard yet.

It’s only natural for upperclassmen to be amused by freshman naivete, forgetting we were in their shoes not long ago. It’s tempting after two, three, or four years of liberal arts education to think we know so much more than they do. But freshmen often retain what we tend to forget: the need for wonder.

Looking back, I was once like this enthusiastic freshman. Aristotle used to excite me. I often had long discussions on moral philosophy and St. Augustine’s “Confessions” with friends in high school. But, after attending a college dedicated to teaching these very same topics, I grew — to my chagrin — jaded. Reading the same books over and over again, constantly hearing about pursuing virtue for its own sake, and rejoicing in challenges is… challenging. And I’ve talked with enough upperclassmen friends to know I’m not the only one struggling.

It’s true, Hillsdale students eat, sleep, and breathe the Great Books. Many do care about pursuing truth and virtue, even with the same degree of enthusiasm as this particular freshman. But for others, it’s become so repetitive that it’s lost its meaning. The good, true, and beautiful feel more like a cliche than the purpose of our existence.

One could argue it’s just the maturation process: that the older one gets, the less passionate one becomes. Maybe. Here’s another perspective. About a month ago, I attended an Intercollegiate Studies Institute conference where college sophomores, juniors, and seniors from around the country discussed philosophy, theology, and politics with more enthusiasm than I’d ever witnessed before. Many came from schools where they intentionally have to seek out the same books and teachings Hillsdale students often take for granted. It’s not about age. It’s about actively cultivating wonder and loving the truth.

Students should continually seek the true, good, and beautiful. Yet we can ponder these transcendentals every day of the rest of our lives and still know little more than when we started. God willing, we’ll spend the rest of eternity contemplating them and still won’t get to the bottom of it. It’s much greater than human minds can comprehend.

St. Thomas Aquinas devoted his work to seeking theological and philosophical truth. After a mystical experience, he said “all that I have written appears to be as so much straw after the things that have been revealed to me.” After the vision, he stopped writing his “Summa Theologica.”

Like St. Thomas, it’s time to rediscover our littleness, to wonder at what we don’t know and revel in the tiny bit that we do know. Getting older isn’t a sufficient reason to be apathetic. It’s good to have lively conversations about what we learned in class and seek knowledge outside of class. It’s good to wholeheartedly love the mysteries of God. And it’s even good to marvel at the virtue of Niedfeldt partygoers.

While we’re still in Hillsdale’s mission-driven environment, let’s not waste the opportunity to pursue the good, true, and beautiful. To the enthusiastic freshman: Thank you for putting me in my place. You were right. Pursuing virtue is pretty amazing. And to have just half your enthusiasm for the true, good, and beautiful? That’s more valuable than any college degree. 

 

Adriana Azarian is a junior studying politics and journalism.