Valuing the language of intergenerational wisdom in the spiritual education of children

Living in Malta, at the centre of the Mediterranean, I have always been fascinated with how different people, with all their different religions, have settled on this tiny and almost bare rock and have constructed a particular identity, many a time building on the identity left by their predecessors. In particular, I have always been intrigued by an archaeological site present at Tas‐Silg, in the southern part of the island. This site, whose foundations go back to some 5000 years, was the sacred place for the veneration of the Neolithic ‘Fat Lady’, then for the Phoenician goddess Ashtart, then for the Carthaginian counterpart Tanit, then for the roman goddess Juno, until it was finally transformed into a Christian basilica (Buhagiar, 1996). While there is not always evidence of direct continuity or transformation in cults, it is interesting how the sacrality of the site has been maintained, even if not continuously, for more than three and a half millennia. This intricate superseding of beliefs and ritual systems, all of which involve a female divinity or a saint, points to what is fundamentally human, that is, the need of community and the awareness and experience of transcendence, and thus the formation and preservation of memory and meaning. In some peculiar way, they have influenced each other, even if indirectly.

Indeed traditions do influence each other, especially since they are the concrete codification of intergenerational wisdom of why and how to live and how to be in harmony with self, others, and, in most cases, with the supernatural. In today's world, this wisdom is not always correctly evaluated, or at least it is not plainly appreciated.

Ten years ago the European Union proposed that Europe should move from information to knowledge. It had come to realise that the generation of information is not equal to the ‘generation or acquisition of knowledge, still less of wisdom’ (European Commission, 1997, p. 17). It thus exhorted that ‘society would shift more and more towards a wise society’ which is capable of distilling knowledge ‘derived from the experience of life, as well as from the natural and social sciences and from ethics and philosophy’ (European Commission, 1997, p. 17). However, this ideal has been tainted with too much emphasis on the economy and by devaluing the meaning of the human individual, who is now understood as being a subagent of the state, of society, and above all of the economy (Commission of the European Communities, 2001; Education Council, 2001).

Since the very dawn of civilisation, and probably even before, as witnessed by the paintings of Trois‐Frères, among others, humans have always tried to answer the most fundamental questions of who and why they are and what are their relationships with others, creation, and with the supernatural. They have passed on the wisdom that ensues from this reflection through narratives, rituals, theologies, and philosophies.

The ‘language’ which traditions have developed has sustained generations throughout the past millennia by giving meaning, identity, and the ability to transcend. This wisdom has been sought after by humans throughout the ages, and in some traditions, the wisdom that has ensued has begun to be understood as itself an emanation of the divine, or the same as the incarnation of God. Indeed, wisdom is commonly associated with spirituality, since it has to do with interiority and relations, and many times brings about wellness.

This language has provided a concrete way of expressing and living the spiritual dimension. With their ability of experiencing awe and wonder, children are to open wisdom. For instance, in the Christian tradition, the synoptic gospels depict Jesus praising God for revealing his wisdom to children, ‘I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children’ (Mt 11, 25). It is in fact children who acclaim Jesus as being Son of David, thus recognising his ministry and identity (Mt 21, 15). But although the gospels recognise children's aptitude of being wise and of being models of spiritual life, it is only very recently, for instance, that the Catholic community has been starting to realise children's profoundness in spiritual wisdom. The list of children who are being proposed for canonisation is on the increase. But what astonishes most is not just their ability of entering into a deep relationship with God and of giving themselves to others but more than anything their wisdom, especially in spiritual matters. For instance, Antonietta Meo, a Roman child who died at the age of six had already understood that humans have a seed of the divine (Del Genio, 2000) and comprehended the mystery of suffering (De Carolis, 2004). Her 162 little ‘letters’ are a testimony of children's potential of being deeply mystical and wise (Borriello, 2001).

But this wisdom, and the wisdom of so many other children, can only be expressed if there is a language. It is unthinkable that the language that has been developed over millennia should be lost or devalued. The construction of knowledge through the modern disciplines does not have to mean the elimination or decrease in the importance of wisdom passed on from generation to generation through traditions. It is precisely the dialogue between disciplines and traditions that can enrich and ‘improve all aspects of the quality of life’, as has been hoped for by European Union (European Commission, 1997, p. 17). It is only through this dialogue that the human person can be understood correctly and that consequently we can hope that society and the state respect children's spiritual dimension and potential.