A Thomist?

The piece below is pulled from an article I wrote for Ad Fontes, originally made available in print and then online here. Rather fittingly, it is my last and, happenstantially, farwell piece for my friends at The Davenant Institute, as I depart next week. I’m reposting it here for those who might have overlooked it in Ad Fontes (which you should follow); there also, you will be able to find all the footnotes.

For years, I have said to my students: “follow Thomas; do what he says.” This piece fleshes out what I always meant. What is being a Thomist, actually? In simple terms, it is someone who habitually submits to Thomas as he determines contradictions. This definition, or perhaps style of definition, contrasts with another classical one, e.g., expounded in Manser’s famous Das Wesen des Thomismus—which after writing the article, I see has been translated and published by Emmaus, so English readers can happily read for themselves.

Please enjoy the following piece, and my thanks to Robin H for originally editing it. PS. The phantom Dominican at the beginning happens to be Fr Cajetan Cuddy.

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I once heard a lecture by quite a good Dominican intending to define what is a Thomist. His approach showed good sense and followed standard lines. Typically, we define, for example, an Aristotelian, as someone who holds to Aristotelian principles, instead of Platonic ones (insofar as these principles are distinct and, more properly, contrary). Thus, we must identify what principle(s) someone must hold in order to have the essence of a Thomist–and something among the 24 Thomistic Theses seems like a good candidate initially. There are at least two difficulties, however. One is how unified Thomists are with others (even, at times, with Scotists), which renders identifying something unique somewhat difficult. The other is how diversified Thomists have been among themselves, for excluding any of the noteworthies seems obviously wrong. In the end (if I recall), he argued that holding the real distinction between act and potency makes someone a Thomist. It is a common response, as is the real distinction between essence and being–not to mention others.

My own approach to this question is different, and perhaps more straightforward. Rather than define a Thomist based upon his current intellectual posture toward certain, especially principial propositions, I define him based upon his initial posture toward Thomas himself and his sayings or authorities–authorities which then eventually make a Thomist to hold these (and other) propositions. This approach has some resonance with that of John of St. Thomas, who identified two conditions of a true disciple of St. Thomas: “first, following his doctrine as true and catholic; and second, promoting it with all your powers.” Likewise for me, a Thomist is simply someone who follows Thomas. Or a bit more technically (I will be expanding this all throughout), it is someone who holds Thomas as trustworthy (credibilis) and so implicitly accepts his sayings as true, whereupon he habitually assents through them to various judgments or, by extension, propositions.

These approaches are not conflicting. One seems to follow how someone is called the son of another, intellectually speaking. A son is someone who has been generated (=taught) by another so as to have the same nature (=mind), which is why the act of teaching is sometimes called begetting, and the teacher is called a father and the student a son. This was the first approach identified above, again often used. We call someone, for example, an Aristotelian, who holds the very part held by Aristotle of a certain contradiction; and then ultimately, who has the very principles which Aristotle acquired and reverted to again and again as his “firsts.” Likewise, a Thomist–a true son of Thomas–is someone who, in the case of contrary opinions among scholastic masters, holds Thomas’s part rather than e.g., Scotus’s; and most ultimately, holds Thomas’s principles which are concluding such opinions rather than their opposites, not to mention other propositions. In short, on this line, a Thomist is someone who habet mentem Thomae, who holds the mind of Thomas on the matter.

My approach, by contrast, follows how someone is called the disciple of another. A disciple is someone who hears the voice of his master and willingly follows him wherever he goes. Intellectually speaking, when the master instructs him and says “this is true,” the disciple listens and obediently responds, “indeed.” On this line, a Thomist–a true disciple of Thomas–does not yet need to have “actually achieved in all [contradictions] the very mind of the Holy Doctor and understood him” and his reasons, as John of St Thomas reminds. Instead, it is sufficient if he reads Thomas’s assertions and, in acts of faith, asserts the same. In a word, a Thomist then is he who Magistrum Thomam sequitur, who follows Master Thomas; and for whom Thomas’s sayings are the authorities (auctoritates) which are used to determine contradictions.

This approach I would propose as not just fruitful for defining a Thomist, but as in fact superior for doing so. Three “pay-offs” immediately come to mind which make this superiority plausible. First, this approach enables us to include with the great masters of Thomas’s doctrine even the most junior Thomists who have not yet apprehended the principles of Thomas’s system, but are still aware of his seemingly inexhaustible light and are dutifully following him. It likewise reflects the organic growth of that junior Thomist as his bearing toward Thomas increases and he assents thereby to more (and more principial) propositions, gradually acquiring mentem Thomae on all contradictions. Second, this approach sidesteps the problem of identifying the right principle(s) whose assent makes someone “in” or “out,” but still leaves intact the insight that certain principles and not others are constitutive: everyone knows that a Thomist is different from a Scotist is different from a Suarezian based upon what each actually holds in certain and important cases. And finally third, it easily distinguishes a Thomist from someone else who shares some principles, e.g., even a Scotist (who would be defined the same mode, mutatis mutandis). And indeed, this approach seems to align better with how, within the unified movement of scholasticism, medieval schools actually developed, viz., through listening to a certain master.

But what does this “following Thomas” really look like? Let me flesh out what I mean.

Imagine that you stand before the universe of all possible contradictions–say, to keep it manageable, just all contradictions involving God and so “housed” under de deo uno et trino. Your intellectual task is straightforward: determine each and every one of those contradictions as to its true part, and hold that part as true as firmly as possible. This of course is merely the scholastic task, if not the intellectual one.

Throughout your life, you have acquired many inclinations, some of them good and inclining to the true, and others bad and inclining to the false. But despite this, by nature you stand neutral to these contradictions and have, in each case, no inherent inclination either to the right or to the left. Moreover, although your everyday inclinations (suspiciones) and ultimately determined holdings (opinio; assensus) can and do have different sorts of motive causes or “pressures” which induce you to them, still intellectually speaking, there are only two sorts of motives to consider, to “allow yourself” to become determined through. The one is rationes, arguments made to the intellect and which make it to judge. The other is auctoritates, authorities (or quite roughly, prooftexts), sayings from someone who is trustworthy. These authorities ultimately make addresses to the will, which then constrains intellect to judge–rendering this assent the act which is natural faith or believing (credere). Scholastics call fielding arguments, proceeding through rationes (proceditur per rationes); and fielding “prooftexts,” proceeding through auctoritates (proceditur per auctoritates). Thus in sum, as someone engaged in the scholastic task, you face this universe of contradictions and are fielding arguments and authorities which could determine your intellect, which could make you to hold or assent to one only part of this contradiction as true.

A Thomist, then, is someone facing that universe, fielding authorities from Thomas, and readily being determined through them. The various sayings from Thomas’s corpus arise in his mind and “populate” this part and not the other of the various contradictions: this saying from Thomas that God is populates the affirmative of this contradiction that he is and is not; this saying from Thomas that God is simple populates the negative of this contradiction that he is and is not composite; etc. In each case, a Thomist chooses to assent to the part merely because thus saith St. Thomas. In clichéd terms, a Thomist is someone for whom Thomas’s sayings form the sed contra of every question. In terms more technical, he is someone who implicitly but then also explicitly assents to Thomas’s sayings and holds such as representative of the true.

To be sure, how this works must be carefully explained; here, we must content ourselves with a gesture. When Thomas writes e.g., that God is simple, you must first apprehend the intellectual content (intelligentia; sensus) of this saying–the certain concept signified by the predicate; the judgment either composing or (as in this case) dividing that concept. When you have done this task (interpretatio, Thomas would call it) and have that judgment firmly in mind, now it is time to either posit that judgment in reality as true, or remove it from the field of facts as false–what Thomas often and also calls, to judge (iudicare), but what many today might call (anemically) identifying the truth value. However, for this judgment about this division, you do not reflect upon rationes or intellectual evidence for the division’s truth and resonance with reality (e.g., that every composite requires a mixture of act and potency; but in God is only act). Instead, you reflect upon the saying from Thomas, particularly the fact that he it was who asserted this indeed to be–that Thomas himself had posited this division in reality as true. And knowing this, you choose to trust Thomas and likewise posit the same division; you then verbally respond and say, “God indeed is simple,” and when asked for your argument why, admit, “because Thomas said that God being simple is the case.” Doing this across the board for all contradictions outs you as a Thomist. You are indeed his discipulus, and he your magister.

This gesture has uncovered two major difficulties which every Thomist must resolve if he indeed wants to follow Thomas in the mode just outlined. Those difficulties are interpreting Thomas’s sayings, and then certifying that he indeed posited or asserted such to be. Let us consider these in turn.

First, a Thomist must carefully and rightly interpret Thomas’s sayings, to ensure that they are really relevant for the contradiction being considered. He must know that Thomas asserted indeed this proposition which he has understood, rather than another which has the same form but a different understanding.

Not infrequently, a saying might seem relevant to the contradiction which you understand, but it involves another which you do not. The most common–or first realized–examples of this involve equivocal predicate terms. When trying to determine e.g., whether God is or is not powerful, you will easily find in Thomas many sayings that he is powerful (est potens). But before any of these is considered probative for the affirmative, you must ensure that your definition of power (potentia) matches Thomas’s in that saying (and potency is said in many modes!).

This example is so simplistic, that one could underestimate how difficult Thomas’s sayings are to interpret, and how easily he is abused and his sayings “forced” to argue something foreign to their intention. To better realize the difficulty, consider the fact that not only must you watch the definition signified by the predicate term, but you must also watch what lies behind the “is” of Thomas’s propositions (“is” is also said in many modes!). Continuing with contradictions involving God, when Thomas says that God is simple, this is probative for the negative judgment that he is not composite. When he says that he is a rock, this would be probative for the affirmative that we are supported by him; when he says that he is our peace, this for that he makes us to have peace; when that he is just, sometimes only for that he does justice; when that he is merciful, usually for that he acts akin to a merciful man; when that he is knowledgeable (est sciens), only for that he has the certitude, not the conclusionality of knowledge (scientia); when that he is good, not for (as so usually in English) that he does/did something good to you, but sometimes for that he is not evil, sometimes for that he makes all goods, sometimes for (roughly) that all goods desired are found in him.

These examples are straightforward when compared to others. I list them only to insinuate the difficulty of interpreting Thomas, how pervasively the external form of his proposition belies its “meaning.” This is despite the fact that Thomas writes maximally formally, as Cajetanus says, whereupon the external form of Thomas’s sayings betray their “meaning” far more readily than that of, for example, patristic sayings. A Thomist, if he would proceed through Thomas’s sayings as his authorities, must first learn to interpret them, to acquire Thomas’s understandings from them all. Others will play at “prooftexting” for whatever understanding they have in mind and for which Thomas’s words are a convenient match. Others will hijack witless words, force-feed them a meaning foreign to Thomas’s intention, and take advantage of his name to hammer people to their own positions. A Thomist despises all of this, and instead interprets–something which Thomas also helps with, as he constantly clarifies the concept he intends, and also teaches, as he interprets texts, and alerts you to different senses of propositions, and so on. Still, even with Thomas’s own crystalline clarity, the need to “determine his sense of the question” (a related mode of putting this) carries on.

Second, a Thomist must also evaluate Thomas’s sayings, not all of which are created equal. Particularly, even after successfully interpreting, he must certify that Thomas indeed asserted this proposition–rather than e.g., just recited it as another’s opinion.

This second difficulty is also important to take seriously and resolve, yet frequently overlooked. Reciting opinions held by others is quite common in philosophical tradition, as well as among the fathers. So too among scholastics and especially bachelor commentators on the Sententiae, the practice is not uncommon. An author takes a certain contradiction; but instead of determining it himself, he merely recites another’s opinion regarding it–often without betraying that he has done so, and simply writing e.g., “that its affirmative is to be held as true.” This mere recitation is easily mistaken as the author’s own determination, but it is not; it is another’s opinion which is plausible (probabilis) given e.g., that he is trustworthy or otherwise notable.

This phenomenon means that even when you rightly interpreted Thomas’s saying and have the same understanding as he, you must still continue to ensure that Thomas took this very judgment and posited it as so; that he firmly assented to it and understood reality so to be; that when he then uttered this proposition, it was his firm assertion or sententia (as scholastics would call it) about this contradiction. The proposition in question could be another’s opinion, not Thomas’s own. This happens more times (especially in his earlier Sententiae commentary) than many are aware of, let alone factor for (although great commentators of Thomas, such as Cajetanus, will occasionally point this out).

Or there is a different, but similar phenomenon to factor: the author gives his own epistemic “feelings” on the contradiction, but it is only his opinio, opinion; not his sententia, firm assertion. This practice occurs even more frequently among scholastics. An author takes a contradiction and, for whatever reasons, merely opines (=loosely holds) e.g., that its affirmative is true. Other masters then arise and evaluate respective arguments for contrary opinions (Thomas often does this), and identify one as opinio magis probabilis, the more plausible opinion given the actual argument (ratio) used. This identification is a laudable way-station along the path of discovering truth; but it is not the termination of that path: the question remains open, needing further determination. Only when an author has firmly assented to one only part does he give his sententia, his absolute determination about the contradiction. All scholastics, Thomas not excepted, engage in these and related practices with the expectation that their readers evaluate things differently: an opinion is only their “maybe so,” whereas a sententia is their “definitely this.”

A Thomist knows the difference between these things. Others will perform the task of interpreting a certain saying and finally apprehend the judgment in Thomas’s mind–say, a certain composition signified by such. But he will then then hastily assume (!) that Thomas (because he did utter this saying!) posited that composition, that he actually himself judged, and that his judgment was a firm assent. A Thomist knows that Thomas had much in his mind, seemingly innumerable compositions and divisions both; and that his mind “felt” different about them. His epistemic posture could be more neutral, yet he still uttered the proposition recitatively because it was the opinion of someone credible; it could be fairly favorable, and so he uttered the proposition plausibly (probabiliter) because he has some plausible reason (probabiliss ratio) for it. Or it could be locked solid and firm, whereupon he uttered the proposition definitively as his sententia. A Thomist knows the difference between these. And he evaluates Thomas’s sayings properly so that he can assent to what Thomas actually assented to. He primarily proceeds through those sayings which are Thomas’s sententiae, and only secondarily (and as appropriate) through those which are his opiniones; he favors commonplace treatments over those “out of the way”; he knows the difference between a respondeo (the response) and a resolution to an objection; etc.

Following Thomas, therefore, is not so simple a matter. You must interpret his sayings and apprehend the compositions and divisions in his mind; you must then evaluate and ensure that these are his firm assertions signifying his own judgments about these compositions and divisions. Only then can you proceed, properly and faithfully, through his authorities, and “ape” Thomas’s judgments with your own–no need to have the whys and wherefores, only to trust. And if you choose to do this and have begun to be a Thomist, then you can be congratulated for achieving a notable state of knowledge, for now you possess even many compositions and divisions which you yourself have posited in reality. And given that these judgments are true, your intellect has become highly resonant with reality itself.

Yet Thomas would be the first to inform you that this state of knowledge, yes laudable, is decidedly subpar. And everyone knows that it is subpar, which is why we despise anyone who says, “I just know that it is so; I don’t have any idea why”; or who argues, “This just is the case because so-and-so says it is the case.” Nobody likes a Thomist who continually says, “because Thomas says so.”

It is so subpar that Thomas himself even calls it empty-headed. His reason for doing so is clear. Given that you proceeded through authorities, you were constrained to assent through something extrinsic to your intellect, under the force of your will and objects unique to it. Accordingly, although you do have judgments and perhaps even many, there is no intellectuality “behind” those judgments upon which you could reflect for evidence for (or even explanation of!) their truth. This is the emptiness which Thomas refers to: you currently lack rationes.

Nobody ought to assent through authorities and leave it there. And nobody wants to by nature: intellect still desires its own satisfaction, even when the will has drawn it forth and “pinned” it to one part. Indeed, this initial lack of intellectual satisfaction is why so many “intellectuals” today are unwilling to humble themselves and proceed through authorities at all, imagining themselves the more intellectually respectable for refusing this childlike trust! They can be praised for prizing reasons; but they know not how knowing works. They consider only what for a moment would be missing, and forget what would already have been gained. When someone refuses all authorities and proceeds through reasons alone (per rationem solam, as Anselm says), he does not yet know which part of the contradiction is true. Reasons pull him hither and thither. His intellect struggles under many doubts (dubia), which Aristotle reminds are so many chains impeding the progress toward finding truth. These doubts are intellectual fears; and fear is the mind killer. His intelligence is thus shackled, and he must find these reasons while also still struggling to know which part is even which. The scholastics knew that it is far better to first proceed through authorities and firmly hold a position upon the word of someone credible. And then, from that place of strength–intellectual quiet, not disturbance–you are best enabled to revert and begin to discover reasons (invenire rationes) bearing upon what you already know (through authorities) is the case.

And here is a greater secret. When you do proceed through authorities, you first search for precisely those reasons which motivated the intellect of the very person whose authority just constrained, by way of your will, your own intellect. This is the natural extension of what it is to assent through another’s mind, viz., to have now those rationes in another’s mind bearing upon your assent.

Such reasons are usually signified “within” the authority itself (again, quite roughly, a prooftext). Rarely does a great thinker say, “X indeed is Y,” without continuing, “because Z.” Before, you were not adverting to such a reason; you were assenting merely because he had asserted something to be, not through his argument for it being. Yet now is the time to revert to his reason and assent through it; the reason(s) which once determined his intellect ought now also determine yours. Indeed, this is the exact process which all bachelor students followed when they commented on Lombard’s Sententiae, a sort of mind meld with the fathers: facing a new contradiction, they first assented to one part through the auctoritas of e.g., Augustine; and then they assented to the same through the very ratio of Augustine, which the Master of the Sentences often highlights within the quotation he used.

What then of a Thomist? He does not merely assent through Thomas’s authorities and leave it there; rather, he immediately reverts to also Thomas’s rationes, expressed exteriorly in his arguments. And the Thomist finds them in abundance, for his master sends none away empty. Immature disciples Thomas first leads through authorities, so as to reveal to them truths and remove from them errors; but more mature disciples in his school, Thomas continues to teach–now “not for removing error” and determining contradictions alone, “but for instructing his hearers so that they are led unto the intellectuality of the truth which they believe.” Thus, Thomas gives many “rationes investigating the root of the truth” which you discovered through an authority–and supremely, rationes which “make you to scientize as to how such is true.” None “leave empty” who trust him; everyone “acquires something of scientia and something of intelligentia” both.

The Angelic Doctor was not in the business of training parrots. Actually following him as your master means properly interpreting his sayings; variously evaluating them as sententiae, opiniones, etc; and appropriately proceeding through these authorities to determine contradictions. But it also means reverting to the rationes in Thomas’s mind which bore upon the judgments “behind” these sayings–rationes which are now scattered throughout his entire corpus and which now must be carefully collected.

Yet again there are difficulties, and following Thomas is not so simple a matter as “collecting” might suggest. There are reasons, and then also reasons. There are various reasons merely showing that (ὅτι; quia), and then the reason or explanation why (διότι; propter quid) the moon is eclipsed, we recall. There are rationes cognoscendi, arguments for knowing something to be; but then rationes essendi, reasons or causes why or how something actually is. There are reasons explaining how something is suitable (rationes convenientiae), which lack probative force and indeed assume that something was already proved; and then actually probative reasons, those making something plausible (rationes probabiles) or even demonstratively certain (rationes demonstrativae). And then again there is the formal reason or cause why something is (ratio formalis). Others will confuse these; but a Thomist understands the difference between one ratio versus another, and what the difference amounts to. Others will mistake what ratio Thomas is actually giving him; but a Thomist knows what he has received–when Thomas was showing something fitting, but not arguing; when he was making something plausible, leading you by the hand; when he was demonstrating, locking you down; when he was explaining; etc.

But here especially intellectual differences spring up between the disciples of other masters and the Thomist who draws from Thomas’s well. Admittedly, some differences already arose from proceeding through Thomas’s authorities, rather than those of others. It is true that sometimes another master holds an opinion contrary to the one held by Thomas; and his disciple and a Thomist become distinguished as each proceeds through his respective authorities and thus assents to opposite parts. But these differences, real and sometimes important, are nevertheless minimal. Thomas is called doctor communis, the universal teacher for good reason. In the vast majority of cases and certainly the most important ones, Thomas’s opinion is the same as that of the fathers. Indeed, it is most often the same as that of the other and greatest scholastics masters. You would be hard pressed to find Thomas and, for example, Bonaventura, on opposite sides of any contradiction; and surely it is almost impossible to find a “common opinion among scholastics” which has Thomas as its opponent. All this is precisely why Pope Leo XIII presented Thomas as the model for all to follow, as the surest guide to the truth found wide and writ large, and the safest guide to the truth yet cloaked in shadow. But this prompts the question: if following Thomas and proceeding through his authorities so regularly terminates in the position commonly held by anyone who matters, then how does following him rather than another master still make for any great difference?

The response is the rationes which Thomas gives and which a Thomist receives from his authorities, reasons which can greatly differ from those of other masters. Intellectual differences especially accrue not regarding which part of the contradiction is held, but over the reasons bearing on that part.

For an initial example, Thomas sometimes differs from other masters regarding the formal reason for something. Keeping with doctrine of God, a good example is the formal reason why God is present in all creatures, including all places. Scholastic masters do not disagree over whether God indeed is or instead is not present; but they greatly differ over why or on account of what is this so. Some masters–Scotus, most notably–even reject the possibility of giving a formal reason, and hold that the affirmative of this contradiction can only be shown through supernatural authorities–and never explained. Others accept the possibility of explaining it, but identify as the explanation e.g., God’s infinity. As for Thomas, he not only holds that God indeed is present (as do all), and not only accepts the possibility of explaining why (as do most); but he explains that God is present particularly because he efficiently causes all creatures to be, and as Aristotle reminds, every efficient cause or agent is in its patient inasmuch as it is a patient. As a result, the disciples of all schools will conclude from their respective authorities that God indeed is present; but their understandings as to why or how will greatly differ. By contrast to many others, a Thomist will understand God’s presence after the fashion of the agent’s causal “touch” of its patient or recipient–a formal reason which, in the history of this doctrine, has a unique attachment to the Thomist school, given that it is Thomas’s ratio formalis.

But besides formal reasons, likely even more important are Thomas’s demonstrative or scientific ones–inducing scientia about the proposition and particularly its truth. To be sure, not every natural truth, and no supernatural one can have such a ratio demonstrativa; for such propositions, you can only show their truth proceeding through authorities, particularly supernatural ones. But some truths (and very many) can have such rationes–even and firstly, the truth of this proposition that God is, as Thomas most carefully shows (although admitting that it receives only ratio quia, not propter quid) against those who hold otherwise and so refuse to render theology scientific.

For every truth which can have such a ratio (otherwise said, for every proposition which is demonstrable), Thomas is uniquely discontent to proceed through authorities alone; for intellectually speaking, arguments from authorities are the weakest rationes. Rather, he wants also to proceed through rationes, filling the intellect with its fodder unto the maturation of its judgment. But not just any rationes!; Thomas wants supremely the prized rationes demonstrativae, whereupon the sort of knowledge called scientia is had. Thus, throughout his career, Thomas searches for such a reason in favor of each truth, and indeed many such and better and better ones (e.g., from higher principles) in favor of one and the same truth. This is why he often critiques the rationes of other masters as insufficient (ratio est insufficiens), being only (at most) probabiles and yielding opinio, not scientia. (Similarly, later Thomist commentators frequently defend Thomas’s rationes precisely as sufficient–defending him against the withering fire of later scholastic masters such as Scotus.)

Although this goal of scientizing is certainly shared with other masters, Thomas pursues it with unique intensity and ability, and so also results. Consequently, someone who especially follows Thomas will, after proceeding through his authorities and then reverting to his rationes, become more and more sciens, scientific toward the proposition. And being so scientific likely distinguishes a Thomist most from the disciples of other masters, e.g., Bonaventura, who intend other rationes or not as much these rationes. It is not so much which part of the contradiction is held, but Thomas’s unique road to it which distinguishes a Thomist from those who follow the roads of others. There are signs of this distinction. A Thomist finds his intellect increasingly strong about propositions: it is the nature of scientia. He thus often “codes” as more “dogged” about things than others. A Thomist is enabled to not just prove, but even demonstrate to others that this part of the contradiction is true, as he proceeds from principles through premises certainly unto such as his conclusion. He thus is especially “argumentative.” And with scientia making him so inflexible, a Thomist is equipped to handle dubia, the intellectual doubts of those who are not yet determined; or even the objections of those who hold the opposite part. He thus reads as quietly confident to some and aggressive to others.

Of course, scientia (involving conclusions) is not everything; there is also intelligentia or understanding, involving principles. And through Thomas’s rationes, his disciples “acquire something of scientia and something of intelligentia” both. As the Thomist collects Thomas’s rationes, he begins to discover principles and have knowledge of them inasmuch as they are such. He begins to see these principles for what they are, even as he also experiences them for what they can “do” regarding other propositions concluded in Thomas’s system. Thus Thomas gradually unfolds his own and entire mind into another–something which he was given the grace to marvelously do.

And this returns us to our beginning, where I flagged in fact two approaches to defining what is a Thomist. The one defines a Thomist as someone who held certain principles–principles which are variously identified, as one tries to navigate between differentiating a Thomist from e.g., a Scotist, versus unifying or exhibiting the unity among Thomists who often differ among themselves (even regarding more principial propositions). The other approach, which we have followed and expanded throughout, defines a Thomist as someone who holds Thomas as trustworthy and his sayings as authorities for determining contradictions, and then reverts to Thomas’s rationes as they bear upon these determinations. It now appears that the former approach merely defined the end, and the latter the beginning of a Thomist’s life, as someone first encounters Thomas and thence proceeds from darkness to Angelic light.