Preached at St. Thomas Aquinas Church, Baltimore
The ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle
wrote that “all people by nature desire to know.”
Aristotle thought that what it meant to be human
was to be the kind of animal whose greatest desire
was to answer the question “why?”
Why does fire make things hot
and ice make things cool?
Why do crabs move the upper part of their claws
and not the lower part?
Why do we judge some actions
to be worthy of praise
and others to be worthy of condemnation?
Because this constant asking of “why?”
is built into our nature,
it appears in us
pretty much as soon as we learn to speak,
as any parent of a toddler can tell you.
wrote that “all people by nature desire to know.”
Aristotle thought that what it meant to be human
was to be the kind of animal whose greatest desire
was to answer the question “why?”
Why does fire make things hot
and ice make things cool?
Why do crabs move the upper part of their claws
and not the lower part?
Why do we judge some actions
to be worthy of praise
and others to be worthy of condemnation?
Because this constant asking of “why?”
is built into our nature,
it appears in us
pretty much as soon as we learn to speak,
as any parent of a toddler can tell you.
St. Thomas,
who referred to Aristotle
simply as the Philosopher,
agreed with him on this,
as he did on many things.
He too thought that what makes us different
from all the other animals in the world
is that we ask questions,
and we ask them because we want to know things,
and we want to know things because, ultimately,
we want to understand ourselves
and our place in the world.
We human beings desire wisdom
because wisdom leads to happiness.
who referred to Aristotle
simply as the Philosopher,
agreed with him on this,
as he did on many things.
He too thought that what makes us different
from all the other animals in the world
is that we ask questions,
and we ask them because we want to know things,
and we want to know things because, ultimately,
we want to understand ourselves
and our place in the world.
We human beings desire wisdom
because wisdom leads to happiness.
But Thomas did not need Aristotle
to tell him this.
He already had King Solomon,
who in today’s first reading
compares wisdom to a beautiful woman,
and says, “I preferred her to scepter and throne,
and deemed riches nothing in comparison with her…
I chose to have her rather than the light,
because the splendor of her never yields to sleep.”
Both Solomon and Thomas recognized
that we humans will never understand
ourselves and our place in our world,
until we know the whys
and the wherefores of things,
and not just of this or that thing,
but of everything;
not just the why of heating and cooling
and the claws of crabs
and human praise,
but why there is anything at all—
why there is something
rather than nothing.
And to know the why
and the wherefore of everything
is to know God,
for he is our creator and,
as Solomon tells us,
“both we and our words
are in his hand.”
to tell him this.
He already had King Solomon,
who in today’s first reading
compares wisdom to a beautiful woman,
and says, “I preferred her to scepter and throne,
and deemed riches nothing in comparison with her…
I chose to have her rather than the light,
because the splendor of her never yields to sleep.”
Both Solomon and Thomas recognized
that we humans will never understand
ourselves and our place in our world,
until we know the whys
and the wherefores of things,
and not just of this or that thing,
but of everything;
not just the why of heating and cooling
and the claws of crabs
and human praise,
but why there is anything at all—
why there is something
rather than nothing.
And to know the why
and the wherefore of everything
is to know God,
for he is our creator and,
as Solomon tells us,
“both we and our words
are in his hand.”
So Thomas Aquinas devoted his life to asking “why?”
and to teaching other people how to ask “why?”
until they arrived at the end of “why”
and there found God.
He sought wisdom everywhere:
in ancient pagan philosophers
like Aristotle,
in Jewish and Muslim thinkers
like Maimonides and Avicenna,
in Christian theologians
like Augustine and Gregory the Great,
but above all in the pages of Sacred Scripture,
where he found Jesus Christ,
the way and the truth and the life,
God’s wisdom in human flesh.
The story is told of a time
near the end of Thomas’s life
when he was praying in front of a crucifix
and Christ spoke to him from the cross:
“You have written well of me, Thomas.
What reward would you receive
from me for your labor?”
Thomas responded to the image of the crucified:
Non nisi Te, Domine— “nothing but you, Lord.”
and to teaching other people how to ask “why?”
until they arrived at the end of “why”
and there found God.
He sought wisdom everywhere:
in ancient pagan philosophers
like Aristotle,
in Jewish and Muslim thinkers
like Maimonides and Avicenna,
in Christian theologians
like Augustine and Gregory the Great,
but above all in the pages of Sacred Scripture,
where he found Jesus Christ,
the way and the truth and the life,
God’s wisdom in human flesh.
The story is told of a time
near the end of Thomas’s life
when he was praying in front of a crucifix
and Christ spoke to him from the cross:
“You have written well of me, Thomas.
What reward would you receive
from me for your labor?”
Thomas responded to the image of the crucified:
Non nisi Te, Domine— “nothing but you, Lord.”
For all his great learning,
for all his scholarly accomplishments,
Thomas, like Paul in our second reading,
in the end “resolved to know nothing…
except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.”
Nothing but you, Lord.
Nothing but you,
not because I no longer desire
to know the whys and wherefores of things,
not because I no longer yearn
to understand myself
and my place in the world,
not because I have fallen out of love
with the beautiful Lady Wisdom,
but because I am more deeply in love with her
than ever before,
and have come to see that God’s wisdom
is not the wisdom of the rulers of this age
but is a wisdom mysterious and hidden,
a wisdom wrapped within your cross, O Jesus,
a wisdom that seems like foolishness to the world
because it says that the greatest among us
must become the servant of all,
that “whoever exalts himself will be humbled;
but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”
for all his scholarly accomplishments,
Thomas, like Paul in our second reading,
in the end “resolved to know nothing…
except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.”
Nothing but you, Lord.
Nothing but you,
not because I no longer desire
to know the whys and wherefores of things,
not because I no longer yearn
to understand myself
and my place in the world,
not because I have fallen out of love
with the beautiful Lady Wisdom,
but because I am more deeply in love with her
than ever before,
and have come to see that God’s wisdom
is not the wisdom of the rulers of this age
but is a wisdom mysterious and hidden,
a wisdom wrapped within your cross, O Jesus,
a wisdom that seems like foolishness to the world
because it says that the greatest among us
must become the servant of all,
that “whoever exalts himself will be humbled;
but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”
All people by nature desire to know,
and what St. Thomas desired to know
was the wisdom of the cross.
All our knowing amounts to nothing
if we do not take for our teacher
Jesus Christ and him crucified;
for he is the why
and the wherefore of everything.
St. Thomas says in one of his sermons
that whoever wishes
to live a fully human life
must reject what Christ rejected on the cross
and embrace what he embraced:
we must reject the false wisdom of the world
and embrace a wisdom
that might look like foolishness,
a wisdom that rejects pride and embraces humility,
a wisdom that rejects the desire to dominate and control
and embraces faith in the power of God.
For to embrace the wisdom of the cross
is to know the God who can sustain us
at the lowest points in our lives:
when it seems that hope is lost
and darkness has eclipsed the light.
To embrace the wisdom of the cross
is to know also the resurrection
and the power of God to save;
it is to know the light
whose splendor never yields to sleep.
and what St. Thomas desired to know
was the wisdom of the cross.
All our knowing amounts to nothing
if we do not take for our teacher
Jesus Christ and him crucified;
for he is the why
and the wherefore of everything.
St. Thomas says in one of his sermons
that whoever wishes
to live a fully human life
must reject what Christ rejected on the cross
and embrace what he embraced:
we must reject the false wisdom of the world
and embrace a wisdom
that might look like foolishness,
a wisdom that rejects pride and embraces humility,
a wisdom that rejects the desire to dominate and control
and embraces faith in the power of God.
For to embrace the wisdom of the cross
is to know the God who can sustain us
at the lowest points in our lives:
when it seems that hope is lost
and darkness has eclipsed the light.
To embrace the wisdom of the cross
is to know also the resurrection
and the power of God to save;
it is to know the light
whose splendor never yields to sleep.
All people by nature desire to know.
As we seek to grasp
the why and wherefore of all things,
let us learn from St. Thomas,
not because he knew
how to draw subtle philosophical distinctions,
not because he knew the writings
of Aristotle and Avicenna and Augustine,
not even because of his superb knowledge
of God’s revelation in Sacred Scripture;
let us learn from him
because he knew the wisdom of the cross.
Let us learn from him how to say to Jesus,
Non nisi te, Domine—nothing but you, Lord.
Let us learn to live in the light
whose splendor never yields to sleep.
As we seek to grasp
the why and wherefore of all things,
let us learn from St. Thomas,
not because he knew
how to draw subtle philosophical distinctions,
not because he knew the writings
of Aristotle and Avicenna and Augustine,
not even because of his superb knowledge
of God’s revelation in Sacred Scripture;
let us learn from him
because he knew the wisdom of the cross.
Let us learn from him how to say to Jesus,
Non nisi te, Domine—nothing but you, Lord.
Let us learn to live in the light
whose splendor never yields to sleep.
