Saint Thomas Aquinas, My Beloved Professor in Heaven: The four most important lessons I learned from the Angelic Doctor

 

            It’s been three years since I first discovered and seriously personally studied the works of Saint Thomas Aquinas, and I can happily say that I am far from really scratching the surface. The Angelic Doctor has this awe-inspiring gift of deep insight when it comes to philosophical and theological truths; this great awareness of both the metaphysics of the cosmos and the infinite divine power and love that moves the planets, of both what things are in themselves and He Who Is, of the words that come from the wisdom of antiquity and the Word that breathes forth Love, Who is the Logos of God through Which the Father expresses His design in creation and through Which the Father recreates us in redemption. In short, Aquinas’s thought is this one, big, wholesome vision of God, our First Cause and Last End, and His mysterious and astonishing relationship with the universe that one cannot really claim to be an “expert” when it comes to his teachings (one can have a specialty in a Thomistic idea or two, but hardly can anybody be a grandmaster in all of Thomism’s doctrines, except Aquinas himself). Nonetheless, despite my lack of authority in explicating properly his writings (and hence my great disability in writing an essay about him), I had the great pleasure of gathering Thomistic gems here and there so as to be able to tell you, in a nutshell, what, in these past three years, have been the four best lessons I have learned from the Dominican Master.

 

Belief in God is Rational and Defensible on Rational Grounds

          We live in a highly secularized, hyper-scientistic, ultra-skeptical world today. “To see is to believe” is modernity’s ontological shibboleth. No wonder a lot of us today lean toward agnosticism or atheism, because God “cannot be seen”, unlike the objects of this world, which can be sensed and therefore be empirically tested and examined. Not only that, but today, people are so fixated with scientific reasoning that they think it is the only legitimate form of reasoning, and hence judge philosophical arguments, such as those for (or against) God’s existence, as worthless. Edward Feser expresses a similar observation when commenting on the objections to Theism that are raised by atheists like Richard Dawkins, pointing out as well why such a position is erroneous:

Part of the problem with Dawkins’s criticisms of Aquinas, then (and of the other New Atheist’s criticisms of certain other religious arguments), is that they fail to understand the difference between a scientific hypothesis and an attempted metaphysical demonstration, and illegitimately judge the latter as if it were he former. Of course, they might respond by claiming that scientific reasoning, and maybe mathematical reasoning too, are the only legitimate kinds, and seek thereby to rule out metaphysical arguments from the get go. But there are two problems with this view… First, if they want to take this position, they’ll defend it not simply assert it; otherwise they’ll be begging the question against their opponents and indulging in just the sort of dogmatism they claim to oppose. Second, the moment they attempt to defend it, they will have effectively refuted it, for scientism or positivism is itself a metaphysical position that could only be justified using metaphysical arguments. (The Last Supersition: A Refutation of the New Atheism, ch. 3, pp. 83-4)

          But leaving aside the deep reasons why such a positivistic way of thinking is incorrect, the point is that, for most of us moderns, the wisdom that comes from the metaphysical demonstrations championed by people like Aquinas seem very alien to us, given our fixation towards purely empirical, purely scientific, facts and ways of reasoning. Luckily, for me, I never really bought into such propaganda (I think I almost adhered to scientism, but apologetics became the instrument that pulled me from it), and so it might have been easier for me to assent to Aquinas’ ontological claims compared to many others.

          And because of that, I saw that, even if I am living on a world that has erased the idea of the divine in many aspects, God indeed exists and is preserving the world in existence from moment to moment. For sure, even before I discovered Aquinas, I already knew a couple of arguments for Theism that has surely helped in solidifying my Christian faith, but these are arguments commonly defended by today’s pop apologists and, even if there’s a certain advantage in learning them and using them in debates and conversations with non-believers, are not founded upon a solid metaphysical framework, at least not as solid as that which I discovered in the work of Aquinas. His “five ways” of proving God’s existence are, you might say, the final nail in the atheistic coffin for me. I went from more probabilistic arguments, like the fine-tuning argument as defended by William Lane Craig, to a more metaphysics-based, more ontologically certain arguments such as the argument from essence-existence distinction presented in the Dominican Master’s philosophical work, the De Ente et Essentia.

          Not only did Aquinas solidify my theistic commitments, but he also provided good answers to naturalistic/atheistic objections and gave solutions to many perennial philosophical problems related to the issue of God and His nature. It is not my aim to lay out and explain them all here, one by one, but allow me to give an example. The doctrine of Divine Simplicity, amazingly articulated and defended by Aquinas and Thomists (and classical theists in general, including me), has provided a convincing solution to what has been called the Euthyphro Dilemma: Is something good because God wills it, or does God will it because it is good? For me, the idea that the divine essence is identical to divine goodness gave a highly compelling answer to the question: it’s neither. God wills what is good because He is Goodness itself.

          Through Thomistic natural theology, one also sees that all of the popular atheistic slogans are nonsense and stupid. I mean, questions like “Who created God?” or “If God is omnipotent, can He create a heavy stone He cannot lift?”. Aquinas has provided great analyses on topics such as Divine eternity and Divine omnipotence that will surely prove that these apparently powerful knockdown statements against theism are indeed impotent after all. Besides that, one can also see the impact of Thomistic natural theology in contemporary philosophy of religion. There are many philosophers today, such as Gaven Kerr, Eleonor Stump, and (as mentioned above) Edward Feser, that champion classical theism presented specifically through the Thomistic tradition. No true philosophical scholar, believer or otherwise, can deny the major contributions in today’s philosophical sphere of Aquinas’s thought. The medieval doctor’s arguments for God’s existence, such as the argument from motion, are hence far from dead. The opposite is indeed true: his arguments remain rationally defensible and worthy of serious consideration until today, which brings me to another important lesson I have learned from Aquinas.

 

The Vital Role of the Intellect and Arguments in the Christian Faith

          I encounter so much anti-intellectualism in the internet. There are a lot of people who, when expressing their thoughts about a particular issue (especially when it pertains to society and culture), tend to sound disagreeable and apathetic, without any interest in learning about the truth of things. People are so emotional on social media that, instead of arguing logically and charitably, they tend to fight. I think they are better in expressing themselves with boxing gloves and knives than with their social media accounts. It’s better for them to enter a ring than to hold a smartphone.

          When it comes to disagreements, particularly when it comes to doctrine (or religion in general), the common attitude and method of argumentation seen in the internet is not the Christian way. As Saint Peter has written, “always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect” (1 Pet 3:15). We should always be charitable and respectful in defending our faith, properly understanding the position of our opponents, but we should always have a reasonable response as well. In other words, Saint Peter is encouraging is to study, to learn the reason for our hope, so that we may have something good to say when it comes to talking about our faith. Remember that we are rational animals, we are intelligent beings, and so if one really wants to win someone over, the best way is to win over someone’s mind. Many of the saints that we revere in the Church’s magnificent history. Whether it’s Justin Martyr of the early Church or John Paul II of recent memory, one can see that many of the holiest men are also the brightest, most intelligent men, recognizing the importance of intellectual discussions and debates in evangelization and converting people to Christ. After all, Christ is “the Truth” (Jn 14:6), and the truth is received by the head.

          Aquinas is one amazing example of a person who indeed took the apostle’s words seriously. His life was (as I pointed out above) defined by his amazing effort to communicate truth in a convincing and honorable way. Looking at his works, you can really see the zeal of the man in teaching the people whatever he knows and believes. Not only that, but he also formulates great objections to his own positions (as evident in his magnum opus, the Summa Theologiae)! In reading Aquinas, you indeed see that he is a great servant of the truth, whose objective is not simply knocking down his opponent’s ideas for arguing’s sake, but to get to the heart of the matter, regardless of what everybody else thinks or wants to think.

          Speaking of the Summa Theologiae, the massive, five-volume work presents, for us, a good model for settling disagreements, theological or otherwise. The Summa is divided into questions, which is, in turn, divided into articles, which is, in turn divided into objections, the sed contra (“on the contrary”), Aquinas’s appeal to an authoritative text (commonly taken from Scripture), the body of the article, and finally, his responses to the objections. When one properly sees the inner logic as to why Aquinas would construct his Summa that way, one also sees the usefulness of such a construction in dialogue. For a conversation involving a disagreement to be fruitful, one should first know where the disagreement lies. Only then can you formulate your own reason as to why you think your opponent’s position is wrong. Appealing first to a common ground as a starting point where you can both reason from is a great help a lot of the time. From this, one can then proceed in communicating his reasons as to why the other side is wrong. All of this, when done for the sake of the truth and with love for one’s neighbor, can be effective steps in dealing with the position of other side.

          We also have to remember that Aquinas wrote the Summa Contra Gentiles (the original title is actually Liber de veritate catholicae fidei contra errores infidelium, or Book on the truth of the Catholic faith against the errors of the unbelievers). It is written to aid missionaries (and preachers in general) in explaining and defending the Christian faith against unbelievers. As he himself has written in the books chapter I.2:

I have set myself the task of making known, as far as my limited powers will allow, the truth that the Catholic faith professes, and of setting aside the errors that are opposed to it. To use the words of Hilary: 'I am aware that I owe this to God as the chief duty of my life, that my every word and sense may speak of Him' (De Trinitate I, 37)

          For Aquinas, exposing the truth of his faith and answering objections and errors that are contrary to it, is the “chief duty of (his) life”. This shows Aquinas’s dedication and seriousness when it comes to propagating the Catholic religion and providing reasonable responses to intellectual stumbling blocks that may hinder one to believe in Catholicism.

          For us, this gives us a magnificent realization: that Christian faith is not merely a “religion of the heart” whatever that means. Christianity is not just about “what you feel”. It’s not just about being psychologically or emotionally stable, like a form of therapy. If that’s all Christianity is, then it’s not worthy of our serious consideration when it comes to the intellectual sphere. But no, that is not what it is. Christianity is centered on the Logos, the Word, the Reason behind all things, and hence there is nothing to fear about the concerns coming from non-believers. Whatever is true is ours, and it is in Aquinas that we find a great enthusiasm in spreading this good news.

 

The Importance of Morality in Human Happiness

          As humans, we set goals with regards to our actions. That’s the truth of teleology/final causation (from the Greek telos, meaning end). In his general metaphysical framework, Aquinas never leaves out the truth of teleology: “every agent acts for an end” (Summa Theologiae I.44.4). Not only that, but Aquinas doesn’t look at it as merely a trivial, or unimportant, feature of beings. For the Dominican Master, final causality is “the cause of all causes” (Sententia super Physicam II.5.186). It is what drives and determines the other types of causality, whether it’s formal, material, or efficient causation. And we need not be expert metaphysicians to know this. In our every day lives, our actions are driven by goals or ends: we eat in order to gain nourishment, we walk so that we will arrive at our desired destination, we hang out with friends because we want to enhance our social life, and so on. Teleology is an unerasable aspect of human life.

          Together with final causation, we also have formal causation. Or, to be more precise, besides the truth of goals and ends in human life, we also have a human nature. It is that objective reference point as to what we really are. All our characteristic human operations and abilities come from the human essence. It is in essence that we are able to know what a thing is, “that through which makes it the sort of a thing it is” (De Ente et Essentia 1). Our rationality, our ability to think, remember and conceptualize; and our rational appetite, the human will, flows from the human essence. It all comes from human nature.

          There is an intrinsic connection between what we are and to where are we directed to. Just as the essence of a ball implies its telos of being able to bounce, it is in the human essence that we find the blueprint for our final causality, and hence the objective fact that our actions can be evaluated morally, depending on whether or not we actively pursue or frustrate the realization of these ends. Unlike other beings, we are rational: we can know what is our objectively good for us i.e., what pertains to our final end, and choose to either pursue it or not. This forms the basis for ethics. Just as a ball that is unable to bounce properly is a dysfunctional ball, so does a human being who chooses to frustrate his ontological growth be considered a dysfunctional, or, to be more precise, an immoral, vicious, person.

          There’s more to these metaphysical principles where Aquinas grounds his ethics, and even until today they are still subject to debates among ethicists and philosophers in general. The point, though, that I want to make is this: for Aquinas, morality is not just a form of legalism, it’s not just “follow these rules or else”. For the Angelic Doctor, morality plays an essential part in personal growth. In fact, to be truly moral is to be truly happy.

          Aquinas, like Aristotle before him, defines happiness as rational activity grounded in virtue (Nicomachean Ethics 1. 13. 1102a5; quoted in Summa Theologiae I-II, q. 3, a. 2). This definition of happiness is so alien to the modern, hedonistic understanding of happiness, which simply means “doing whatever you think you like” or “being emotionally high”. The Thomistic definition of happiness is so objective, so properly grounded ontologically, unlike the modern definition, which is so subjective, so egoistic. I would even go so far as to say that because our minds are so marinated by the modern definition, we are now suffering its destructive consequences, one of which, as the philosopher Alasdair McIntyre has pointed out in his book After Virtue, is the loss of a common moral language: our terms have become so complicated when it comes to discussing what’s good or bad, up to the point that we can’t even agree to their definitions and proper use: terms like “love”, “justice”, and “toleration” come to mind when it comes to this point. Not only that, there are also a sudden invention of new terms simply for the reason that it fits into our own ego-centered form of ethics (this is rampant when it comes to the issue of sexuality: terms like “gender”, “transsexual”, “pansexual”, “asexual”, etc. are actually relatively new words), but for now, I digress.

          For Aquinas, happiness requires a proper subordination of the lower powers and functions of the soul to its highest power, namely, the intellect. To live happily, one must live intelligently. Otherwise, a person will be imprisoned by vice, or addiction. If the passions control the man, he will merely engage in self-gratification. Instead of him controlling himself, his addictions will take over, up to the point that he can’t control his impulses to his own detriment. A person addicted to porn, for instance, will always give in to the temptations of the flesh, regardless of how much objectification he witnesses in pornography and regardless of how deviant and animalistic the types of porn he watches. The vicious man is therefore a prisoner to his own desires, unable to escape the room which is locked from the inside because the doesn’t have the key, or at least he hasn’t found them yet.

          Contrast this to a man of virtue. For Aquinas. A man of virtue is a happy man, because he is not a puppet to his impulses and desires. He knows to control them and properly work alongside them. When he knows it’s time to stop eating so as to remain healthy, he stops eating. When he sees an old lady struggling to cross the street, he helps her.

          Not only that, but a virtuous man, for Aquinas, is also a man who does good things with ease. For the virtuous man, doing good – for himself and for others – is not a matter of struggle. The good is attained and realized in an easy fashion, without any difficulty in the actor. There’s no pressure of any kind for a man infused with virtue. Whether it’s advocating against abortion for the sake of justice or feeding the hungry for the sake of charity, the virtues become a great guide for man to live his life in accordance with his nature. Saint Augustine said it best in his work, The City of God: “Thus, a good man, though a slave, is free; but a wicked man, though a king, is a slave."

          The man of virtue is a happy man because he lives a beautiful life, a life of meaning. Aquinas helped me realize that happiness is the goal of life, but to be truly happy, one has to live in conformity to the demands of his nature. We should not be ontological anarchists, constantly rebelling against our humanity simply for the sake of the stupid impulse of easy, but cheap, gratification, because this will lead to our lives being lived upside down, without a proper moral compass to guide our everyday living. A truly happy man is a man of principle, a man who knows his goals in life and is able to pursue it in a trouble-free way. This is the message of Aquinas to modernity, which constantly aches for fulfillment and joy. But for him, man’s ultimate source of happiness does not just come from right actions, but in God alone, which brings me to my fourth and final point.

 

Learning, Especially Learning Theological Truths, is More Than Just “Gathering New Information”

          The Dominican priest and theologian, Fr. Dominic Legge, OP, said it best when it comes to Aquinas’s intentions in writing his works:

Although at times they are rather technical and demanding, St. Thomas (Aquinas) did not write his theological works only as an academic exercise, but also to draw his readers into the search for the highest truths - and into the delightful contemplation of the divine mystery - that animated his own life. (The Trinitarian Christology of Saint Thomas Aquinas, p. 7)

            Remember that the subject of theology is centered on God and His inner mystery, revealed to us by way of Divine Revelation. Also take note that God is not just an interesting abstract idea that is worthy of discussion. God has a personal nature. He, in fact, has a name: I AM (Exodus 3:14), and He has communicated Himself to us, sharing the divine secret, just like a friend who loves us so much so as to want to dwell within us, within our hearts and minds.

          True theology, then, is ultimately not just something done in the classroom, but is best done in prayer and contemplation. There’s no better source of theology than Theos Himself. It is necessary that, if one is really passionate about theology, he has to fix his mind, his will, his life, to the One Thing Necessary.

          Aquinas’s works has helped me so much in praying and the contemplation of Divine truth. The more you learn about Saint Thomas’s thoughts on The Trinity, Christ, the Sacraments, the Church, the Beatific Vision, and the like, the more you cannot help but realize that the person of Thomas Aquinas fades away more and more from the picture, until the only thing that’s left is the mystery of God, now staring you in the face. This is what makes Aquinas such a great theologian: he knows that, as a teacher of sacred doctrine, he has to “disappear” and direct his students and readers to Christ, the Truth. All of Aquinas’s theological works is an echo of Saint John the Baptists words, “He must increase, I must decrease” (John 3:30). Another brother of Aquinas in the order, Fr. Thomas Joseph White, OP, writes in his book The Incarnate Lord, that “(a)n understanding of the ultimate meaning of human existence is possible only in light of the mystery of Jesus Christ” (p. 1). Aquinas’s works are a great embodiment of this fact.

          Aquinas’s life itself is a great example of a theocentric life, and there is a story in his life that can back this up. The great Dominican Master was once praying, in tears, before a crucifix in his priory chapel in Naples. One of his contemporaries, Brother Dominic of Caserta, secretly watched him pray. And as he was praying, suddenly a voice from the crucifix was heard, saying to Saint Thomas, “You have written well of me, Thomas. What reward will you receive from me for your labor?”

          It was Christ Himself – the God-man Who Aquinas loved so much and devoted his whole intellectual life and priestly ministry in the service of – Who was speaking to Aquinas, from the crucifix. The Lord is asking Thomas what reward would he like to have because he was a great expositor of theology.

          As a philosopher, Aquinas could’ve said that he would like to acquire the lost works of Aristotle or Plato. As a theologian, Aquinas could’ve said that he would like to understand better the mystery of the Holy Trinity, or that he would like to have a definitive answer against a heretical position. But no, Aquinas would have none of those. His answer to Christ is the same answer that we should all give if we’re asked the same question: Non Nisi Te, Domine. “Nothing if not Thyself, Lord.” “Lord, nothing except you.”

          What really makes Aquinas a great teacher of the faith is that he knows that all of his ideas, learnings, and teachings, are all subordinated to and are in service of the Logos of God, Jesus the Christ, through Whom “all things were made” (John 1:3). All that we know is useless if not directed towards the Word made Flesh; the Author of our sanctification; the Way, Truth, and Life; the Image of the Father; the God of the Universe. This is an example that we, as Christians, should follow, always and forever.

Aquinas’s life and works are lived and done through this Christocentric lens. He is not just a great exemplar for us Christians in particular, but for all learners in general. This puts a great responsibility towards teachers, and the university system as a whole, to form students to be authentic servants of God, with the zeal to spread and defend the truth whenever necessary. This calls for a “reconsecration” of the modern university, which is unfortunately “desacralized” due to false concepts and ideologies being taught and drilled into the students’ heads.

This means that, for Aquinas, the university isn’t just a place where people prepare for their future professions or jobs. As John Paul II taught us about the sacramentality of the body, the Angelic Doctor teaches us about the sacramentality of the university. The university (and all forms of learning system in general) can be an instrument through which God reveals Himself. The university, in being a way for us to see and serve truth, can be a way for us to see and serve God and His self-communication.

 

Conclusion

It all boils down to Aquinas’s faith and sanctity. The supernatural virtue of faith allowed Aquinas to pierce into the life of God. It allowed him to direct his words and actions to no one else but towards the divine, thus giving him an amazing framework according to which he was able to reach his goal: the beatific vision. The God Who Aquinas thirsted for in this life; Whom he desired to know, serve, and love, is now seen by him, face to face. Christ, Whom Aquinas wrote and read and talked about on earth, is now eternally outpouring to him the everlasting and all-satisfying divine knowledge in heaven. Every other thing that makes Thomas Aquinas great and influential, even though it’s been over seven hundred years after his birth, is all funneled by this one great fact: Aquinas is a saint. May all of us, who are born to run after Truth and zealously pursue it and love it, be like Saint Thomas Aquinas, who fulfilled his great mission in a manner satisfying for himself and for us, and in a way pleasing to God.

 

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