The Day Aquinas Stopped Writing

Christian history, Theology

Near the top of the list of the most influential Christian theologians in history is Thomas Aquinas. His writings form the cornerstone of Roman Catholic theology and have exerted a lasting impact not only on Christian thought but also on the fields of ethics, metaphysics, and natural law.

In his Summa Theologica—which he never completed—Aquinas created one of the most far-reaching theological works in history. He harmonized divine revelation and human reason through Scripture, tradition, and Aristotelian thought, articulating a comprehensive vision of Christian doctrine.

Simply put, the magnitude of Aquinas’ theological legacy is often regarded as second only to Augustine of Hippo in the history of Western Christianity.

But in the final year of his life, around the age of 48, Aquinas was rocked by an extraordinary, life-altering experience. On December 6, 1273, Thomas attended Mass, as he did every day. But during the eucharistic service he was seized by an unexpected mystical encounter so powerful that he could neither describe it nor resume his scholarly pursuits. We do not know the precise content of Aquinas’s experience. Sources describe it as a vision or revelation during Mass, but Aquinas himself never detailed it.

But from that day forward, he stopped teaching.

He stopped writing.

His great tome, Summa Theologica, would go unfinished.

People close to Thomas immediately noticed a profound change. They were concerned about him. His dear friend and confidante, Reginald of Piperno, asked him, “Father, how can you want to stop such a great work?” Thomas merely replied that he could no longer continue writing. Reginald assumed that perhaps he was physically or mentally exhausted. He probed further. Again, Thomas replied, “Reginald, I can write no more.” But then he explained, “All that I have hitherto written seems to me nothing but straw.”

Thomas withdrew into silence. Later, during a visit to his sister, the difference in him was unmistakable. Turning to Reginald, she anxiously asked what had shaken her beloved brother so deeply.

This time Thomas elaborated further, “All that I have written seems to me nothing but straw . . . compared to what I have seen and what has been revealed to me.”

A short while later, on March 7, 1274, Thomas Aquinas would pass away.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about this anecdote from Aquinas’ life. No matter how profound our scholarship, the divine cannot be fully captured in words. Yes, we cannot help but theologize. As incomprehensible as God is, we must find ways to conceptualize thoughts and articulate ideas if we are to enter into this relationship. Therefore, theology is not only necessary; it is unavoidable for those who wish to engage with God. So we do our best.

But let us not kid ourselves. Much of what we claim to know, we know only in part. We construct our systems, our doctrines, our statements of faith—and we must. Yet no matter how true those statements may be (and there is no record of Aquinas repudiating his earlier work), they remain words spoken about the Source of all that is, seen and unseen. The ever-expanding universe itself bears witness to this truth: God is immeasurably vast, and our belief statements are, by comparison, astonishingly puny.

Over the last few centuries, discoveries in cosmology, geology, biology, and other disciplines have burst old theological wineskins. And ready or not, there will likely be more Copernican-like revolutions in the centuries to come.

But among the theologically-minded, the wise and humble are open and flexible. They stand upon our creedal foundations while speaking slowly and thoughtfully about the divine mysteries.

Those who speak of sacred truths with flippancy, as if all were self-evident and trivial, profane what is most holy. Glib, unreflective certitude desecrates the sacred.

Some of the most spiritually hollow words appear in formulaic discipleship curricula, shallow worship songs, or the pages of popular Christian bestsellers. If Thomas Aquinas looked back upon his prior work as nothing but straw, I’m not sure what language could adequately describe these (actually I am, but I’d rather keep this piece PG-rated).

When we truly encounter the God who is ultimate transcendence, like Thomas Aquinas we cannot help but lay our ink pens down (or put our phones away), and to be still and behold. And we’ll know we are on the right track when our thinking and our conversation are infused with plenty of wonder, mystery, and awe—an awakening that comes from what we most need: profound encounters with Christ that leave us mystified.

The Way Begins Here: A Pastoral Invitation to New Believers

Jesus, Spiritual Disciplines, Spiritual Growth, The Bible

I often meet people who are brand new to Christianity and want to follow Jesus, and they are looking for guidance on how to go about it. Certainly there is a bunch of resources (both printed and online) that are published for this purpose. But for several reasons, I’ve been feeling inspired to write my own concise, curated response. So this simple post will serve as something I can offer these people as I encounter them.

Four thoughts.

1 // Find, join, and invest yourself in a local church community.

Christianity is not an individual exercise. It can only be lived faithfully within gathered communities of people. The individuals within this church will not always agree on every particular cultural issue or theological idea. They will most likely represent a wide range of perspectives, backgrounds, and life stages. However, this kind of difference is actually healthy, necessary, and conducive for our spiritual growth. Healthy churches are communities of “differents” who otherwise unite around their common allegiance to Jesus as Lord.

In general, I recommend taking some time to determine which church to join. Churches come in many forms, shapes, and sizes. Personally, if I was in the position of looking for a church to join, there are numerous things I would be looking for. But I’ll offer two things that I consider to be extremely important.

First, find a church that makes a big deal about Jesus. Look for a church in which the pastor and primary leaders seem utterly fascinated with Jesus. Not just with the Bible. But with Jesus himself (Seriously. This is not always the case.). Jesus, his life, his teachings, his vision, and his present work in the world should somehow be the ultimate focus of every single sermon.

Secondly, find a church that is caring for you as a human being rather than merely counting you as a statistic. This doesn’t mean a church should not be large and/or growing numerically. But regardless of size, it should be easy to connect with people and build relationships. And hopefully someone very soon will be recognizing you, learning your name, and helping you find your way into the community.

From the very beginning of Christianity, the formal entry point into the community of Christ’s followers is water baptism. So once you’ve decided to join a local church, ask the pastor about the next opportunity to get baptized.

2 // Develop a healthy rhythm of prayer.

Your ultimate goal is not merely to become a Christian, but to become Christian. You’re learning to embrace a new way of life. So not only are we going to join a local community of Christ’s followers, but we are going to embrace formational practices that will, over time (by God’s grace), empower us to become people who increasingly reflect Jesus in the world.

Prayer is an indispensable means of formation into the image of Christ. We pray not simply to get God to do what we think God ought to do, but to be properly formed. You are misshapen. There are things that are fundamentally wrong with your inner life. And the purpose and practice of prayer (primarily) is to form you in a correct and healthy way.

If you have never prayed or are not quite sure where to start, I would encourage you to begin by memorizing and praying the Lord’s Prayer. The Lord’s Prayer belonged to the church long before it became canonized scripture. It is older than the books of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

Try to take about 10-15 minutes with it. Pray it slowly with deep intentionality. Meditate on it section by section. Perhaps pray it a second time, substituting your own words, stretching it out a bit. Maybe eventually from there you might consider adding a second element, such as Psalm 23. Sometimes in prayer we want to jump immediately into making requests. And there’s plenty of opportunity for you to express yourself extemporaneously and pray from your heart. I’m not taking that away from you. I’m just suggesting placing it within a formative context. Before you pour concrete, you must build forms, or else it just goes everywhere and it ends up a mess.

The primary purpose of prayer is for the human being to encounter God and be formed by God. Because left to ourselves, a selfish person is going to pray a selfish prayer. A greedy person is going to pray a greedy prayer. A manipulative person will pray a manipulative prayer, a fearful person will pray a fearful prayer. You must not leave prayer up to your own self. We need the help and wisdom of scripture and our forefathers and foremothers in the faith.

For much more from me on prayer, I’ve written this book. Twice a year, I also give free one-day Prayer Workshops at Village Church in Burbank, CA.

3 // Become friends with the Bible.

Like prayer, the Bible as our sacred text is essential to Christian formation. The word Bible simply means “book.” And this book is comprised of two main sections, the Hebrew Scriptures, with its 39 books that we call the Old Testament, and the Christian scriptures, with its 27 books that we call the New Testament. The Old Testament is the story of God’s revelation of himself to a chosen people, and his interaction with them all leading up to Messiah.

The Bible is not an end unto itself. What the Bible does is lead us to Jesus who is the Savior. The Bible is the inspired and sacred revelation of Jesus, who alone is the perfect and quintessential revelation of God (Jn. 5:39, Heb. 1:1-3). So that we read the Bible, not as an almanac, not as an encyclopedia, not as a law book, but as our most trusted guide to revealing Jesus to us.

There are plenty of approaches to reading the Bible. One of the methods I teach in the Scripture Workshop I give once a year involves reading the Bible according to the Christian calendar. Here’s the guide I use. I begin by spending roughly 15 minutes reading from the Old Testament (until I find a good stopping point), and then I do the same with the New Testament.

Reading the Bible this way provides enormous benefit. It keeps the larger story of the Bible fresh in my mind. Also, pairing the Old Testament reading with the New Testament often helps me identify interesting connections that I may not otherwise have seen. I also like this method of reading because it gives privilege to the Gospels, anchoring me to the life and teachings of Christ. (As a Christian why would I spend just as much time reading Leviticus as I read the Gospel of Luke, for example?) Finally, reading the Bible this way keeps me tethered to the Christian calendar and the richness it provides through its various seasons (Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, and Eastertide). If you’d like more information on the Christian calendar and when the various seasons begin and end, you can learn more here.

4 // Finally, give yourself lots of patience.

You are beginning a life-long journey of discipleship, becoming who Jesus wants you to be. And the journey itself is integral to the becoming. It will be happening even when you don’t know it’s happening. In fact, much of the time you are in the process of becoming when you least are aware of it. When you’re just involved in the mundane humdrum of following Jesus, praying prayers, coming to church, hearing sermons, reading your Bible… it may not always seem very exciting. But in the midst of all of that, you are in fact, becoming. It’s not a destination, but transformation that Jesus has in mind.

And in following Jesus throughout your life, some of the pain, some of the sorrow, and some of the failures that we experience are a necessary part of the journey. This is a complex issue that will not yield to simplistic answers. Does God cause all this evil to come? No, I’m certainly not saying that. But there are things that are allowed into our lives that are unpleasant, that we do not want to experience, but we do. And they are, in fact, necessary for us to become what we are intended to become. They’re not the end of the story. But they are part of the process, the journey of becoming.

So be patient with yourself. And even in your failures and sorrows, let the heavenly artisan go to work.

“Hosanna!” and “Crucify Him!” From the Same Crowd?

Cross, Jesus, The Bible

A bit earlier today on Threads, someone posed the following question:

The text doesn’t really give us much reason to think the “Hosanna!” crowd and the “Crucify him!” crowd were the same people, right?

It’s an interesting question. I’m not sure how much, if anything, is at stake here. But I’ve often heard the statement, “The same crowd that chanted ‘Hosanna!’ on Palm Sunday was chanting ‘Crucify him!’ on Good Friday.” It preaches well.

But is it true? To be honest, I can’t say for sure. But I seriously doubt it.

First, the Palm Sunday crowd seemed to be made up mostly of Passover pilgrims who had been traveling with Jesus from Galilee and from other places who joined along the way. Note the example of Bartimaeus, who after being healed, “followed him on the way” (Mk. 10:52). Also, notice how Matthew contrasts the Palm Sunday crowd with the inhabitants of Jerusalem:

When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” (Mt. 21:10).

The city of Jerusalem, which normally maintained a population of around 20,000-30,000 people, during Passover season would swell up to about 2 million pilgrims from around the world. That’s a whole lot of people. So the multitudes who gathered in Jerusalem that week were not a monolith. And on that basis alone, it’s a significant leap to conflate the Palm Sunday crowd with the Good Friday crowd. It would be like me shopping at Target one afternoon, then returning a few days later, and assuming that the crowd of shoppers on both days was identical.

Secondly, all throughout the week, the Temple establishment had been plotting to arrest Jesus and kill him. But they realized that they had to do so by stealth. They were concerned a public arrest would cause a riot (Mt. 26:3-5). All the way up to Good Friday, Jesus remained a hugely popular figure with his followers.

This is the whole reason why the Temple hierarchy was willing to pay Judas. The arrest needed to take place in secret, under cover of darkness, away from the public eye. Judas knew Jesus’ movements. He knew he could find Jesus in the privacy of Gethsemane in the evening. From there, Jesus would be led straight across the Kidron Valley to the home of Caiaphas where he would undergo a sham, overnight trial.

Then very early in the morning, Jesus is handed over to Pilate, who at some point presents a gathered crowd with the choice of releasing either Jesus, or a violent revolutionary named Barabbas. Here’s how John describes it:

After he had said this, he went out to the Jews again and told them, “I find no case against him. 39 But you have a custom that I release someone for you at the Passover. Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?” 40 They shouted in reply, “Not this man but Barabbas!” Now Barabbas was a rebel. (Jn 18:38-40)

Numerous times throughout John’s account of Passion Week, he uses the phrase “the Jews.” This is a quite unfortunate reality that has been used to promote and support abhorrent antisemitism throughout history. Nevertheless, whenever we see this phrase in the Gospel of John, he’s using this phrase as shorthand to refer to the Jewish leadership in Jerusalem who stood in opposition to Jesus. Not to Jews in general. Again, John’s use of this phrase has had terrible ramifications throughout history. And I think translators need to come up with other options.

Regardless, it tells us something about the composition of this crowd. Keep in mind that the whole point of staging a secret arrest followed by an overnight “trial,” along with handing Jesus over to Pilate in the wee hours in the morning was to get him convicted and sentenced before the public could assemble and influence anything.

If everyone in Jerusalem (all 2+ million!) had turned on him by that point, then there would be no need for any of that nonsense. But that’s not the case.

So, I don’t think there’s any reason to think they were the same crowd, and plenty of reason to assume they weren’t. It doesn’t preach as well, but I think it’s probably the truth.

Nevertheless. Have a meaningful Holy Week. Don’t rush to Easter. Embrace the story.

(The painting is “Ecce Homo” by Antonio Ciseri)