Man is formed of a dual nature, at once being drawn to his highest calling and heavenly nature, while conversely being dragged into the deepest of depths. That man is capable of reaching such heights is, for Mirandola, an incomparable gift of the divine - yet it requires the cultivation of each person to realize such a possibility. Philosophy (and the Liberal Arts), Mirandola writes, empowers man to know what within him, and the world, is best. In the dialectic of good and evil, base and laudable, philosophy allows us to unmask the dual faces of the world, and see rightly. Once this has been accomplished it is through theological study that we will become the best people - most like the angels in all of material creation. With a soul purified through the study of moral philosophy, the grace of God might descend.
While such a theo-philosophy might seem eminently Christian in aspect, for Mirandola such conclusions are brought about by the contemplation of three central (and thoroughly Greek) precepts. First, a premise most famously explored by Aristotle (but resonant within Eastern philosophy) is that of the Golden Mean, or the Middle Way. Whereas absolute faith may yield a type of fanaticism, finding the balance between extremes is seen as a more rational and humanistic approach. Second, that famous dictum supposedly broadcast to Socrates by the Oracle at Delphi, "Know Thyself". Again we can see that this may contradict a theology whose central teaching would read: know God. The third precept is a bit more obscure, and reads, "Thou Art". This can be taken two ways (at least). If read as "You exist" or, "You are you" (an assertion that empowered the Greek mind in pursuit of arete, or, excellence) it ties in to the affirmation of human capability and the potential of all to move towards a human dignity through our own education and betterment. Another (and perhaps more compelling reading) would be to interpret the phrase as a mutual identification with creation around us. This is given voice throughout eastern tradition with the Sanskrit phrase "Tat Tvam Asi," or, "Thou art that." Found in the Upanishads, such a precept not only links us to the world we inhabit, but speaks to a total subsuming of the self to an ultimate reality (what Northrop referred to as the "undifferentiated aesthetic continuum"). "See that object in front of you? Thou art that." It was written in many places in the East that enlightenment was to be achieved if one had a true understanding of this third dictum. If this is what Mirandola meant, then his work is rightly thought explosive and revolutionary.
At its core the Oration is a document heaping praise on the possibility of human achievement. That we might grow and come closer to the divine, not simply by a contemplation of another substratum of existence, but by knowing the world and our place within it, certainly colors the Christian experience (especially the Renaissance one) in a different light. Mirandola's work is a forerunner of the Enlightenment (western) and humanistic studies. In an age of widespread mechanization and techno-science we would do well to remember when it was a dangerous to assert the right to think broadly and that many fought, and died, to enable us to pursue our higher angels here on Earth.