Thank you for this beautiful write up. People do tend to forget the end of the story, though as Catholics I think we are afforded a little more hope in our efforts both to escape from the cave, and draw others with us! And the idea of "Show them beauty, and then just answers questions," can work marvels of grace in escaping from the caves wherein new ideas first presented would normally sound crazy.
Yes, "they certainly would." When one's 'third eye' is active and the marks of the Holy Trinity are found as triune truth revealed in good creation, it is in many ways a death sentence.
Time...future, present, past
Father, Son, Holy Spirit is a great one to ponder.
The other detail about the Allegory that is often overlooked is that it is not so much a call for the converted to enter back into the cave and clumsily preach light to the blind, but rather a call to go back in to rule those still trapped in the darkness with the truth and justice of the light. This holy rule based in the true light is a duty placed on the chosen soul, and is a great act of mercy and charity for those in chains. This is why Christendom should be longed for — out of pity for souls who need their sighted Father & Captain to steer the boat over the flood waters they don’t recognize and away from the cliffs they don’t see.
That's a good point, Sherry. The Allegory reminds us that the ancient Greeks had no illusions about the need for hierarchy and authority in human life. Whereas modern societies were determined to obtain "freedom" and "rights" at almost any cost, the ancients wanted order, peace, and true happiness. Plato's philosopher-king in the Politeia is not some sort of benign overseer who looks on as the city-state's personal "liberty" devolves into license and anarchy. He is a 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘳 who pursues the common good through justice, virtue, and wisdom.
Yes. And in a world increasingly crafted of shadows—pixels without weight, sounds without silence, truths without substance—it is no small thing to speak of turning the soul toward what is more real. Still, I am reminded that in a world where abstraction reigns, what we need is not just a flight upward toward light, but a God who descends into the cave itself.
This, for me, is the radiant scandal of incarnational mysticism, which I explore in Desert and Fire: not that man is asked to climb toward the divine, but that the Divine has walked downward into our very dust—has sat among us, broken bread in the flicker of our torches, and died by our hands under the illusion of our light.
Christ, the Logos, does not merely liberate us from unreality—He sanctifies the cave from within it. His incarnation reframes Plato’s ascent: the truth is not only above, but among. Not merely Form, but Flesh.
And so education—real education—is not only the soul’s turn toward abstract truth, but the training of the eyes to see God in the grain of things. In the child’s face. In the bread on the table. In the silence between two friends. The Light does not annihilate the world; it transfigures it.
Thank you for this stirring reminder that the ascent must begin in the painful honesty of turning—and that it may end, paradoxically, in a deeper descent: into the world God so loved, and into communion with the Crucified One whom the world still calls a fool.
I very much appreciate the distinction between things as we know them and things as God knows them. For such theological masterminds as Maximos the Confessor, this is the distinction between tropoi (those things as they are in the world of experience - fallen experience in our current condition) and logoi (the true final cause of things as God has intended them to be).
This is the best definition of modernity I have ever read: "postmodernity—the Age of Unreality."
I will have more to say about the "Age of Unreality" on Tuesday!
Thank you for this beautiful write up. People do tend to forget the end of the story, though as Catholics I think we are afforded a little more hope in our efforts both to escape from the cave, and draw others with us! And the idea of "Show them beauty, and then just answers questions," can work marvels of grace in escaping from the caves wherein new ideas first presented would normally sound crazy.
I agree, we must never overlook the power of beauty in helping others (and ourselves) to transcend the darkness of the Cave.
This was a fine take on the Cave of Socrates. Thank you, grace and peace to you Amigo. ✍🏼
Thank you for this beautiful essay. Well timed!
You're very welcome!
Yes, "they certainly would." When one's 'third eye' is active and the marks of the Holy Trinity are found as triune truth revealed in good creation, it is in many ways a death sentence.
Time...future, present, past
Father, Son, Holy Spirit is a great one to ponder.
Matthew 24:36 "only the Father knows"
Eternity awaits, when the Father says so.
So be it.
(Boy is this a beautiful Sunrise right now.)
The other detail about the Allegory that is often overlooked is that it is not so much a call for the converted to enter back into the cave and clumsily preach light to the blind, but rather a call to go back in to rule those still trapped in the darkness with the truth and justice of the light. This holy rule based in the true light is a duty placed on the chosen soul, and is a great act of mercy and charity for those in chains. This is why Christendom should be longed for — out of pity for souls who need their sighted Father & Captain to steer the boat over the flood waters they don’t recognize and away from the cliffs they don’t see.
That's a good point, Sherry. The Allegory reminds us that the ancient Greeks had no illusions about the need for hierarchy and authority in human life. Whereas modern societies were determined to obtain "freedom" and "rights" at almost any cost, the ancients wanted order, peace, and true happiness. Plato's philosopher-king in the Politeia is not some sort of benign overseer who looks on as the city-state's personal "liberty" devolves into license and anarchy. He is a 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘳 who pursues the common good through justice, virtue, and wisdom.
Yes. And in a world increasingly crafted of shadows—pixels without weight, sounds without silence, truths without substance—it is no small thing to speak of turning the soul toward what is more real. Still, I am reminded that in a world where abstraction reigns, what we need is not just a flight upward toward light, but a God who descends into the cave itself.
This, for me, is the radiant scandal of incarnational mysticism, which I explore in Desert and Fire: not that man is asked to climb toward the divine, but that the Divine has walked downward into our very dust—has sat among us, broken bread in the flicker of our torches, and died by our hands under the illusion of our light.
Christ, the Logos, does not merely liberate us from unreality—He sanctifies the cave from within it. His incarnation reframes Plato’s ascent: the truth is not only above, but among. Not merely Form, but Flesh.
And so education—real education—is not only the soul’s turn toward abstract truth, but the training of the eyes to see God in the grain of things. In the child’s face. In the bread on the table. In the silence between two friends. The Light does not annihilate the world; it transfigures it.
Thank you for this stirring reminder that the ascent must begin in the painful honesty of turning—and that it may end, paradoxically, in a deeper descent: into the world God so loved, and into communion with the Crucified One whom the world still calls a fool.
This is a wonderful comment, Steve, thank you for taking the time to write it.
I very much appreciate the distinction between things as we know them and things as God knows them. For such theological masterminds as Maximos the Confessor, this is the distinction between tropoi (those things as they are in the world of experience - fallen experience in our current condition) and logoi (the true final cause of things as God has intended them to be).
💫 Saint Maximus the Confessor,
pray for us! ☀️ 🌐🌙 🌳 ⛲ 🔥 ☦️