It was in 1966 that I first held a book by Thomas Aquinas in my hands. An Ursuline school near my house was selling old books from its collection, and I—a bibliophile even in adolescence—went to look for some bargains. After selecting three or four titles of more general interest for my small library, I came across a rather unusual book, published in “The Modern Library” edition:
I flipped through the book’s pages (over 700 of them!) and was struck by the small print, the sheer volume of the tome, and the variety of topics covered (body and soul, intellect, justice, temperance, God, creation, etc.). Unfortunately, I put the book back on the pile of volumes for sale. Only the saint’s name stayed etched in my memory.
It wasn’t until the early 1970s that I took up the serious reading of the works of Thomas Aquinas. Since then, Thomas’s thought has become a permanent fixture in my intellectual activity. During my years of study at the Angelicum in Rome, I benefited from the expertise of a great scholar of Thomas, Clemens Vansteenkiste OP (for years the editor of the only review journal entirely dedicated to Thomas, Rassegna di letteratura tomistica—in any language). He was my mentor for some years, and I also had the privilege of meeting and speaking several times with the great Cornelio Fabro (the two did not agree on everything, already presaging what I would soon learn!).
A few years later, I began teaching, always drawing nourishment from the pages of Thomas’ works. From 1989 until today, I have taught several disciplines inspired by Thomas’ theses (especially metaphysics, epistemology, logic, and philosophical anthropology). Additionally, for almost 30 years, I have taught the History of Medieval Philosophy, dedicating a good portion of each semester to the Angelic Doctor. Alongside a few articles published in Brazil specifically on Thomas (on the relationship between Plato and Aristotle in his writings, on the relationship between intellect and reason, and on the notion of signum), my engagement with the challenges posed by Eastern Philosophy led me to the works of another great student of Thomas, Richard De Smet SJ. De Smet spent 50 years in India, confronting Thomas’ metaphysics and anthropology with the philosophy of Shankaracharya, from the Vedantic tradition. I have also published two articles on this pioneer and his work (for example, here: Scholia) , and I hope to do more.
But now, in 2024, I realize that my love for Thomas (still going strong) is not always accompanied by a comparable appreciation of the various “Thomisms” generated in the 20th century under the influence of Leo XIII’s encyclical Aeterni Patris (1879)—not to mention the self-proclaimed “Thomists.” It was this pope who mandated, as a general rule, the use of Thomas’ works as the basis for the teaching of philosophy and theology in Catholic academia. With the pope’s vast influence and the global network of Catholic institutions of higher learning, the past century has produced a cornucopia of dissertations, theses, books, dictionaries, conferences, studies of all kinds, and on all imaginable subjects—everything that, in any way, touches upon Thomas Aquinas.
But there was an unforeseen outcome. Thomas’ fertile mind sowed so many paths of thought, so many possibilities for developing his ideas, that today we find ourselves with at least eight Thomisms: 1) neo-scholastic (Garrigou-Lagrange); 2) “transcendental” Thomism (Maréchal); 3) “existentialist” Thomism (Gilson); 4) “phenomenological” Thomism (Wojtyla, von Hildebrand); 5) “Platonizing” Thomism (Fabro); 6) “Aristotelian” Thomism (de Koninck, River Forest); 7) “analytical” Thomism (Haldane); and 8) “semiotic” Thomism (Deely). (Some labels may be disputed, and other representatives could be cited for each variety, but the wealth of versions transcends nomenclature.)
However, rather than viewing this as a symptom of a lack of identity and inevitable fragmentation, I see this breadth of approaches and methods as something positive in itself. What I lament is that members of one orientation or another tend to absolutize their path and disqualify others as “non-Thomists” (or tainted by foreign influences). Especially in the style of Baroque, Counter-Reformation Catholicism—we are always prone to exaggeration when defining ourselves against others—there have been tendencies less faithful to Thomas’ spirit. Hyper-juridical inclinations, sometimes obsessed only with sharp definitions and overstressed determinations, have crept into Thomistic expositions. This easily evolved into a dogmatism of repeated formulas, anathemas against anything modern, and all this pursued with very little theoretical depth.
But it is the owl, with its large open eyes, that symbolizes wisdom, not the parrot. Thomas would have detested such ideological misuse of his thought—so open, adventurous, and daring. The rise of ressourcement theologies served as a healthy counterpoint to some Thomisms that grew too dictatorial—such as the transcendental, the neo-scholastic, and the insistently Aristotelian. The time has now come to take advantage of the proven insights and discoveries of each of these branches of Thomism. Personally, I see semiotic Thomism as one of the most promising.
I also want to remind everyone that Thomas Aquinas is not—nor can anyone be, except the Incarnate Word Itself—the Alpha and Omega of all wisdom, all philosophy, and all theology. There were over a thousand years of Christian thought before Thomas, and more than 700 years of reflection after him. He himself would have emphasized the importance of this legacy from the past and the need for a profoundly open attitude toward the future.
I have always understood the papal recommendation of Thomas as motivated—at least on the part of the Holy Spirit—by this openness of his thought. Josef Pieper, one of the best guides to reading Thomas, highlighted the Fragmentcharakter (the characteristic of being only a fragment) of the famously unfinished Summa Theologiae, and by implication, of all of Thomas’ works. With this, Pieper merely sought to emphasize that the thought of a giant like Thomas is always imperfect, incomplete, and even capable of error. The fact that Thomas could not complete his masterpiece is perhaps a warning for us not to conclude too quickly our philosophical and theological investigations. Important new insights may be right around the corner.
Now for an undeniable assertion, but one which may scandalize some Thomists: Thomas was not a conservative. In his time, he stood at the perilous edge of the intellectual novelties of the day. And he suffered considerably for his courageous defense of Aristotle, a Greek pagan, and—to add insult to injury—commentaries produced by Muslims. I am entirely confident when I state the following: if Thomas were alive today, he would be at the forefront of interreligious philosophical and theological dialogues, also intensely studying contemporary sciences, both natural and social. He would be reading and commenting on the texts of the Second Vatican Council, refuting distortions in their interpretation, and challenging Catholics who dare attack an ecumenical council of the Church. This great saint would have refused to become the guru of any ultra-conservative sect, but equally reluctant to serve as a captain for progressive movements of whatever stripe. He would have remained stationed on the peak of that towering mountain that lies serenely between the two monotonous and tedious valleys of the Right and the Left.
Thomas is formidable; the many Thomisms are plausible but imperfect attempts to emulate the breadth and openness of this singular master. The self-proclaimed Thomists, however, form a far more dubious group—sometimes unbearable in their “certainties,” running the risk of transforming philosophy and theology into catechesis. Now, catechesis undoubtedly has its place, but it is not in the academy. The only good Thomist would be a deeply humble person, open to growth and correction, compassionate toward adversaries (as Thomas was on a monumental scale), and eager to learn the truth in due measure, at the right time, and motivated by Aquinas’s spirit of capax universi: a mind in the presence of everything, above and beyond any school of thought.
Saint Thomas, pray for us. And open for us the paths of wisdom that take us far from ideology. Rather than turning Left or Right, let us move forward, for it is there that the God of Truth awaits us.
