Saturday, July 27, 2013

The Challenge of Thomistic Philosophy

I hope my readers have been enjoying the time off since my last blog post as much as I have.  It’s good to take a vacation every so often.

Gearing back up for another academic year, I have been able to knock some of the rust off and bring you a new post.  It is, however, the beginning of the “season,” and this post is more of a warm-up jaunt than an end-of the season playoff effort.  I hope you enjoy.

As many of you know, I majored in theology in college.  It was a bit of an involved decision between the regina scientiorum and the ancilla theologiae.  One of the draws of philosophy was that it had a rather robust department, and very excellent professors.  But it was a conversation about philosophy with one of the theology faculty that made me change my mind and do theology.

Say “philosophy” nowadays and people will take you to mean anything from a personal approach to cooking broccoli to The Matrix.  But at Christendom College, and a good deal of other Catholic colleges, “philosophy” generally means Plato, Aristotle, and most importantly, Thomas Aquinas.

Also known as “The Angelic Doctor,” Thomas Aquinas has the distinction of being one of the most revered minds in the Catholic intellectual tradition.  From Leo XIII to John Paul the Great, there have been many people around the world who have chosen to adhere to the bellowings of the “Dumb Ox.”

Students at Christendom College are exposed to much of the writings of Thomas Aquinas in the philosophy “core curriculum.”  And while at first I was rather taken by the erudition and clarity of thought in the very excellent Thomist philosophers at that school, it was ultimately the thinking of the greatest Thomist philosopher that made me major in theology.  No, I’m not talking about Henri de Lubac; I’m talking about Thomas Aquinas.

In the very beginning of St. Thomas’ magnum opus, the Summa Theologica, he discusses the relationship between philosophy and theology, which he calls Sacred Doctrine (S.T. I Q. 1 a. 1-2).  A few of his points can be summarized as follows:

1.  Philosophy and theology study the same thing.  Theology literally means “the study of God.”  Philosophy has a division in it that studies God (natural theology).  Later he calls those truths of the faith that philosophy can demonstrate the “preambles to the articles of faith” (S.T. I Q.2 a. 1).

2.  Philosophy and theology are different in the means through which knowledge is obtained.  Philosophy gains knowledge through man’s experience and his exercise of reason, with the use of logic.  Theology gains knowledge by God’s supernatural action called Revelation.

3.  Theology contains certain truths which are above the ability of human reason to come to know.  These truths, accepted by faith, are necessary to guide man to his final end.

Based on these principles, it would seem that a true Thomist philosopher would be able to study God, but would not be able to make use of any principle from revelation, and would not be able to demonstrate articles of faith (those revealed truths that surpass human capacity to discover).

For me, there was an enormous evangelistic appeal to doing philosophy in this way.  The exclusion of revelation makes arguments about God more accessible to the unbeliever.  The way I figured it, the person who rejects the God of faith could be led by philosophy to an acceptance of the God of the philosopher, and thereby to the God of faith.

But ultimately, I think that this approach to philosophy is internally inconsistent, and opposed to the thought of St. Thomas Aquinas himself.

In the first place, a Christian who is a Thomist cannot really exclude revelation.  If he really is a Christian, he believes in the Incarnation, and any number of things on the spectrum of revealed truth.  Contrary to certain attitudes in modern society, what you think actually influences who you are, and who you are influences how you act.  So a Christian doing Thomism cannot actually exclude principles of revelation from his philosophy.  He may construct arguments, perhaps even very long ones, but at the foundations of what he is pursuing, why he is pursuing, and how he has chosen to pursue it will have been profoundly influenced by revelation.

Imagine the unbeliever who has entered into a dialogue with the Christian Thomist under the agreement to stay away from topics of faith or revelation.  How would he react when he discovers this hidden, unconscious element of Christianity that has been guiding and shaping the direction of their conversations all along?

In the second place, Thomas Aquinas himself did not take this approach to philosophy. 

It is interesting to note that the flagship source for Thomistic philosophy contains the word “theology” in the two word title.  The other word isn’t “philosophy.”  As a matter of fact, Thomas wrote the Summa in the mid 1200s primarily as an introduction to theology for students and seminarians at the University of Paris. 

Although the Summa is very clearly a theological work, the bent isn’t purely theological.  What’s called the “First Part of the Second Part” is largely philosophical, with its treatises on actions, passions, habits and law.  But the fact that there is a harmonious blend of philosophy and theology indicates the absence of a very strong division between the two sciences.  Philosophy was known as the “handmaiden of theology” exactly because it could be so useful in helping make more understandable or communicable the concepts of revelation.

So far, we have seen that theology must be part of Thomism, and that it is inseparable from philosophy.  But St. Thomas goes further than that in his estimation of the worth of theology: he calls it “necessary.”

It was necessary that man should be taught by a divine revelation; because the truth about God such as reason could discover, would only be known by a few, and that after a long time, and with the admixture of many errors. Whereas man's whole salvation, which is in God, depends upon the knowledge of this truth. Therefore, in order that the salvation of men might be brought about more fitly and more surely, it was necessary that they should be taught divine truths by divine revelation.  (S.T. I Q.1 a. 1).

The necessity of revelation to man’s final end means the necessity of theology in Thomistic philosophy.

But if we are to abandon the principle that reason cannot admit revelation into its processes, how can we continue to call what we're doing "philosophy"?

Many good Thomists will say that the use of philosophy as the handmaiden of theology gives enough grounds for the name philosophy.  And, in the proper Thomistic sense, that certainly can be the case.

But the modern sense of “philosophy” certainly might take issue with this dynamic.

In modern terms, “philosophy” is the action of Critical Reason whose brilliance is dimmed by an admixture of impurities, such as superstition, bias, or faith.  Reason must be purged of these crutches until man can stand on the grounds of his own reason alone, the master of his fate.

In an era where not only is Thomas and his intellectual predecessors rejected as backwards, but where faith is directly targeted for assassination, the correct response cannot stop with a defense of Thomistic “philosophy,” especially when some might argue it doesn’t even begin there.  Christians everywhere need to find real and convincing grounds in this modern world on which to defend the reality, the beneficial nature, and the necessity of faith.

Now go read Lumen Fidei.

1 comment:

  1. I have a few comments. But I suspect you may have written this partly to get some commentary out of people like me. I'm feeling contrary...

    ReplyDelete