There are indeed theologians who appear to think that theology (that is, the exposition of revelation in human concepts) has progressed so far that it stands virtually before its conclusion.  The house seems to be built and the walls already papered; a smaller and more subtle work remains for each coming generation: the decoration of the finished rooms and of the spaces (becoming smaller all the time) between these rooms, and keeping order in the drawers.  In the end, only the dusting will remain.  Such a view is the result of looking only at tradition. But when the saint (or indeed, anyone who believes and who receives grace in a living manner) compares the tradition with the immensities of revelation itself, does not all that has been attained collapse into a miserable little heap of thoughts and concepts, scarcely the ABC of revelation? Si comprehendis, non est Deus, Augustine repeated this a hundred times. In reality, even - and precisely - the theologian who has intensively studied the endeavors of the learned divines will be overwhelmingly aware, when he contemplates revelation, that as yet almost nothing has been done, that immense areas remain to be investigated, whole continents on this map remain white spaces (pp. 27-28).

To honor the tradition does not excuse one from the obligation of beginning everything from the beginning each time, not with Augustine or Thomas or Dabney, but with Christ.  And the greatest figures of Christian salvation history are honored only by the one who does today what they did then, or what they would have done if they had lived today. The cross-check is quickly done, and it shows the tremendous impoverishment, not only in spirit and life, but also quite existentially: in thoughts and points of view, themes and ideas, where people are content to understand tradition as the handing-on of ready-made results.  Boredom manifests itself at once, and the neatest systematics fails to convince, remains of little consequence.  The little groups of those who have come to an understanding with one another and cultivate what they take to be the tradition become more and more esoteric, foreign to the world, and more and more misunderstood, although they do not condescend to take notice of their alienation. And one day the storm that blows the dried-up branch away can no longer be delayed, and this collapse will not be great, because what collapses had been a hollow shell for a very long time (p. 28).