51����

“Order in the 51���� Curriculum”

 

by Dr. Josef Froula (’92)
Tutor, 51����, New England
St. Vincent de Paul Lecture Series
Opening Lecture
August 28, 2026

“Sapientis est ordinare”[1]

I. The Twofold Order in the Curriculum 

There are many things that are characteristic of the education at 51����. We focus on the Great Books. We study the liberal arts. Everyone is required to take four years of mathematics, four years of science, four years of philosophy, and four years of theology. We use the discussion method of teaching. But the most distinctive characteristic of the education at 51���� and the most essential element of any course of studies is the order in the curriculum. The purpose of this lecture is to argue that this is the case, to expound further on what this means, and thereby to offer further support and defense for the principles and practices of the College. To manifest the central role of the order among the disciplines, it is first necessary to distinguish between two kinds of order. 

The first of these is the order among the parts of a whole, such as the order found among the parts of living things. For example, as the freshmen observe in natural science, when an embryo is growing, the heart is always the first organ that is formed. This is because it can exist without other organs, but no other organ can exist without it. Order among the parts is also found in artificial things such as a house. The foundation must be built first, then the walls, then the roof, because the foundation can exist on its own, but the walls cannot exist without the foundation and the roof cannot exist without the walls.  

The second kind of order is that of things to an end: a house, for example, is ordered to the end of providing shelter.  This second kind of order is superior to the first because the order of things to an end determines the order among the parts, and is the reason that the order among the parts exists.  The end of an axe, which is chopping wood, determines absolutely everything about the parts and how they are put together.  Its long, smooth, light handle and sharp, durable, heavy head are all dictated by its purpose.[2]   

Accordingly, “the end is everywhere the chief thing,”[3] uniting and governing everything else, dictating which parts are to be used and how they are to be ordered.  For this reason, the good of any whole, including a course of studies, is determined by how fittingly its parts are ordered to their proper end. This was foremost in the minds of the founders when they originally designed the curriculum to be implemented at 51����. Nothing is more important when establishing an institution than rightly determining the end or purpose of the whole and properly ordering the parts of the whole to the end.  

Because all liberal education aims at “intellectual perfection,”[4] the curriculum should be directed to this purpose. The intellect, however, is perfected most of all by knowing the highest truths.  The reason for this is that the highest good of anything is excellence in accord with its unique activity.  The highest good of a framing hammer is driving nails well. The highest good of an eye is seeing well.  The highest good of an ear is hearing well. And the highest good of the mind is knowing the truth. This is man’s unique activity which separates him from all other creatures on earth.  Because reason is our highest faculty, and God is the highest object of our knowledge, our perfection consists in contemplating the truth about Him.  But the highest truths about God are those truths of revelation that transcend the power of reason to discover or judge.[5] Because these truths are known most profoundly by the science of sacred theology, this science is the end of liberal education in its fullness.  Since theology is the end, it necessarily determines the order among the other parts of Catholic liberal education that exist for its sake, just as the end of providing shelter determines the order among the parts of the house that exist for this end. 

From this it follows that what is most essential to a Catholic college that is dedicated to liberal education is that all the arts and sciences be ordered by and ordered to the wisdom of the science of theology.  It is ordered by this wisdom in the sense that it establishes the order among the parts of the whole (the first kind of order) and ordered to this wisdom in the sense that all the other parts exist for its sake (the second kind of order).  This is in fact the central thesis of our founding document, A Proposal for the Fulfillment of Catholic Liberal Education,[6] which is stated at the beginning of Chapter X, and  reiterated throughout: "Thus theology will be both the governing principle of the whole school and that for the sake of which everything is studied." (p. 49) Theology is the governing principle because the other sciences are ordered by this science. It is also that for the sake of which everything is studied, which means that all of our studies are ordered to it. This twofold order in the curriculum, that of the parts among themselves and that of things to an end, therefore, is what most of all characterizes and defines 51����.    

Before presenting an account of how our curriculum is ordered to theology, it is necessary to make a distinction between two kinds of theology: natural and sacred.  Natural theology is founded upon the light of reason.  It begins with principles known by reason alone and proceeds by way of argument to further conclusions concerning the one God and the relation of creatures to Him.  All knowledge about the existence and nature of the First Cause that can be attained independently of divine revelation is included in natural theology. Sacred theology, or sacra doctrina, on the other hand, is founded rather upon the light of faith.  Its principles are divinely revealed truths which are transmitted to us in two distinct modes: Scripture and Tradition. Sacred theology is the higher science both because of its greater certainty and the greater dignity of its subject matter. Our curriculum culminates chiefly in the study of the Trinity, which is the central mystery of our faith, and that of the Word Incarnate, by Whom we are united with the Trinity through the grace of the sacraments.

 

II. A Curriculum Ordered to Sacred Theology

If the arts and sciences we study, however, are ordered to theology as to an end, then it necessarily follows that we study them primarily for the sake of theology.  This, in fact, is how both our founders and Aristotle himself speak of theology.  First, our founding document says, “The inferior sciences prepare the learner for the superior, while the superior sciences strengthen and illuminate the inferior.  Yet the value of the inferior sciences is not exclusively (even though chiefly) in contributing to the learning of the superior.”[7] And Marcus Berquist put it this way in the Second Day of the Three Dialogues on Liberal Education: “We don’t study philosophy only for the sake of theology; and yet we study it more for the sake of theology than for its own sake.”[8]

Also, Aristotle himself says that wisdom is the only science which is for its own sake. He says in the Metaphysics, “but as the man is free, we say, who exists for himself and not for another, so we pursue this as the only free science, for it alone exists for itself.”[9] [I should pause here to mention that though it has been a practice since the middle ages to refer to the highest philosophical science as “metaphysics” Aristotle never used the word.  When he refers to this science, he calls it “wisdom,” “first philosophy”, or “theology”.]

 

Objection: The ordering of philosophy to theology precludes philosophy being for its own sake. 

But saying that only the highest science is for its own sake does not seem to be consistent with the way we speak about our courses, nor with the way that we go about studying them.   

For example, in the article on our website entitled “An Education for its Own Sake,” we say, “knowledge such as this [that is, mathematics, natural philosophy, and metaphysics] is theoretical, something desired for its own sake, in which the student can rest and take great satisfaction, even delight in knowing.”[10]   This also seems to be the way that our patron speaks of mathematics and natural philosophy in his commentary on the De Trinitate of Boethius, where he says that speculative philosophy is divided into three parts: natural, mathematical, and divine.[11]  What sense does it make, then to characterize mathematics as a science that we study for its own sake, when our founders say that we study it primarily for the sake of something else and when Aristotle himself says that wisdom is the only science which exists for itself?  Is mathematics for its own sake or isn’t it? 

Solving this difficulty is crucial to understanding not only the way in which our curriculum is ordered to theology, but also how we proceed on a day-to-day basis in the classroom. 

 

Answer: Two senses of “for its own sake” 

First of all, when Aristotle says that only the science of wisdom is for its own sake, he could either mean that no other science is for its own sake in any way whatsoever, or that the science of wisdom alone is first and essentially for its own sake and thus that it is in the highest way for its own sake.[12] It is much more sensible to understand him in this latter way.    For nothing prevents a thing from being at the same time for itself and for the sake of something else.   Baptism is like this. Certainly we would want to say that being washed clean of the ugly stain of original sin and becoming a member of the mystical body of Christ is perfective of the soul in itself and something to rest and take delight in.  But as great as it is, baptism is not the greatest sacrament.   It is, however, the most necessary sacrament, and required for our reception of the greatest Sacrament which is Christ Himself.  Thus baptism, while it is perfective of the soul in itself, is for the sake of an even greater perfection and a more sublime union with Christ. 

Accordingly, two meanings of “for its own sake” can be distinguished.   First, knowledge “for its own sake” is said of lesser knowledge when it perfects the mind even if it is not applied to some greater knowledge.  This is knowledge for its own sake in a qualified and lesser sense.  Second, “for its own sake” can mean knowledge that perfects the mind and is not ordered to any other knowledge because it is the highest knowledge that we can have.  It is for its own sake first and essentially.  St. Thomas speaks of knowledge for its own sake in this more exalted sense as knowledge which is   “propter se tantum,”[13] for its own sake alone, or “maxime propter se,”[14] most of all for its own sake. It is the knowledge of God that we seek most of all for its own sake and what defines and dictates our efforts in the classroom.   

Aristotle unites these two senses when he distinguishes speculative philosophy from practical philosophy on the basis of the end that is proper to each.  He says, “It is right that philosophy should be called knowledge of the truth.  For the end of theoretical knowledge is truth, while that of practical knowledge is action . . . “[15] 

 

How the Study of the Lower Arts and Sciences is Fittingly Ordered to Theology 

Should we not, then, just to avoid confusion, speak of the lower speculative sciences as being ordered to truth and reserve “knowledge for its own sake” for the highest knowledge of God Himself?  It is my conviction that referring to the lower speculative sciences in this way is especially important for understanding how they should be taught and how they are best ordered to theology.   

It may seem strange to some that even though we study mathematics and natural philosophy primarily for the sake of theology, it is entirely conceivable, and even desirable, that throughout the entirety of our study of freshman mathematics and sophomore philosophy courses we do not discuss how what we are doing will be of the utmost importance to our study of natural and sacred theology. If we attempted to study mathematics from a Catholic or theological perspective, or with constant references to its usefulness for theology, it would become a blinding distraction. An approach of this kind is less suited, not more suited to the study of theology.  We must love and embrace the liberal arts and lower speculative sciences by themselves and for themselves in order for them to be useful and properly ordered to the most exalted knowledge of God Himself. This is one of the reasons why we stay focused on the texts before us. Age quod agis. Focus on the task at hand. We embrace, then, a certain pedagogical paradox. The more a student pursues the lower arts and sciences for their own sake, the more useful they are for the sake of knowing higher sciences. And the more we desire the truths of philosophy only for their usefulness, the more useless they become.   

The reason for this is that there is a proper and immediate end of every art and every science that we must embrace as our own habit of knowledge in order for it to be useful for a higher science. Unless we see the truths of philosophy independently of their application to theology, they lose their power of being so applied.  For the truths of philosophy are not true because they are useful for theology. Rather, they are useful for theology because they are true.   

As St. Thomas observes, “faith presupposes natural knowledge, just as grace presupposes nature and perfection something to be perfected.”[16]  We cannot have faith in what has been revealed without first having knowledge of natural things because the belief in a truth divinely revealed always includes or presupposes something that we know by reason alone.  For instance, we cannot have faith in the teaching of the First Vatican Council[17] that the existence of God can be known with certitude by natural reason alone unless we first know the more universal truth that the mind can come to know with certainty the existence of things outside itself.  If we deny the possibility of having natural knowledge of things in reality, or of proving the existence of anything at all, as some modern philosophers do,[18] we must also deny that we can know the existence of God by a proof that relies on reason alone.   

One example of the way that philosophy is ordered to theology in our curriculum is our treatment of relation in freshman year.  In Chapter 7 of the Categories the student is introduced to relation considered more universally and then comes to know much more intimately the relations in both continuous and discrete quantity in the study of Euclid’s Elements. Little does he know how heavily he will rely on this knowledge in the senior theology tutorial when he begins the study of the Trinity.  The better a student understands relation in the natural world, the better his understanding of relation in God can be; and the more deficient his understanding of relation among creatures is, the more deficient his understanding of relation in God will be. In fact, without a solid grounding in philosophy, theology is not just difficult, but impossible.  Pope Saint John Paul II makes this point in Fides et Ratio: He says, “Without philosophy’s contribution, it would in fact be impossible to discuss theological issues such as, (for example,) the use of language to speak about God, the personal relations within the Trinity, God’s creative activity in the world, the relationship between God and man, or Christ’s identity as true God and true man.”[19]   

 

Consequences of Reversing the Order 

Failing to observe this proper ordering of philosophy to theology can lead to dire consequences in the life of the mind.  A friend once recommended a book to me by Father Jean Galot, a world-renowned Christologist whose books are highly regarded and still in print by a reputable publisher.  In The Person of Christ: Covenant Between God and Man, Galot says, “Ontologically he [i.e. every human being] is a hypostatic relation, and that is why his personality deserves respect.”[20]  He continues, “But we must not confuse the hypostatic relation, which formally constitutes personality, with relations that can be called accidental or occasional . . . “[21]   Later, he explains why he makes this claim:  “In God, the various “I’s” [i.e. first person singular] are formed by relations, and in man the “I” is likewise essentially constituted by relation.  Relation does not merely enter into the being of the “I”; it formally constitutes the ‘I’ of the person.”[22] [end quote] Galot is claiming here, in no uncertain terms that the relation in man that makes him to be a person is not an accident, but his substance.  Because man is a person, Galot maintains, relation is what he is. 

 Galot’s error consists in making a bogus distinction concerning the way that relation naturally exists among created things. He thinks that in nature we find some relations that exist as accidents and others that exist as substances or hypostases, namely  persons.  This is a grave error because Galot is attributing to man something that is uniquely true of God.  It is true that because God is his own nature, everything that is in God is His essence.  So the relations of the Trinity are God Himself and therefore subsistent and not accidental.  But this is true of God alone.  In creatures, relation is always and everywhere an accident.  Galot is right to emphasize the supreme importance of relation in man.  He is right that man cannot exist without relation and that our perfection consists in having the proper relationship to our Creator and to our neighbor. These relations should mean more to us than life itself.  So relation, though it is an accident, is of supreme importance.  But it is still an error to confuse this importance with the kind of existence that relation has among creatures by saying that relation is what we are.  

It strikes me that this error arises not only from a deficient understanding of relation, but also from a reversal in the proper order of learning.  Rather than beginning with and respecting relation among creatures, which is known by philosophy, as Pope John Paul II attests,  Galot begins with relation as it exists in God and then attributes this understanding of relation to natural human existence.  He says, “We shall also have to demonstrate how this definition of the person, which we are drawing from Trinitarian Theology, corresponds in fact to our psychological experience of the human person. “[23] In other words, Galot reverses the order of moving from the more known to the less known, and from knowing creatures to knowing God and from naming creatures to naming God.[24]  For Galot, it seems as if the natural knowledge of common experience presupposes faith, and not the reverse.  While it is certainly true that divine revelation can guide, strengthen and perfect our understanding of natural things, it never destroys it and forces us to hold something contrary to common experience. And certainly such things as walking relations and hypostasized doubleness are contrary to common experience. St. Thomas explains it this way in his commentary on the De Trinitate of Boethius:  “Although the natural light of the human mind is insufficient to reveal those things revealed by faith, yet it is impossible that those things which are divinely handed down to us by faith should be contrary to those which are imparted to us by nature (natural knowledge).  For one or the other would necessarily be false: and since both (kinds of truth) are (given to us) from God, God would be for us the author of falsehood, which is impossible.[25]  This passage is worth reflecting on.  The reason that natural knowledge is perfective of the mind at all is that it is from God and leads us to Him. This prompts St. Paul to say in Romans 1:20, “Ever since the creation of the world his invisible nature, namely, his eternal power and deity, has been clearly perceived in the things that have been made.” All perfections of creatures pre-exist in God in pre-eminently;  what is divided and complex in creatures is united and simple in God.    In the proper ordering of philosophy to theology, we must first understand the complexity in created things in order to see clearly the simplicity of God.  

 

St. Thomas: The Prime Example of Ordering Philosophy to Theology 

St. Thomas is a much better model in this regard.  Respecting the difference between God and creatures, he acknowledges that relation is an accident in creatures but essential in God.  He says, “Whatever has accidental being in created things, when transferred to God, has substantial being; for nothing exists in God as an accident in a subject. But whatever is in God, is His essence.”[26]   Because nothing is said univocally of God and creatures, whenever a name is carried over from creatures and said of God,  it is said analogously.  Relation in man always inheres as an accident in a substance and as what is toward or in regard to another.  When applied to God, we retain the notion of relation being toward another, but abandon the notion of it being an accident inhering in a substance.  

 

The Order Within the Sciences 

The importance of moving from the more known to the less known and from the sensible to the purely intelligible is evident not only in the way that philosophy is used in theology, but also within the sciences themselves. 

 I once was visited on campus by a friend who thought our curriculum strange and outmoded.  He asked me why we spent so much time studying scientists of old whose discoveries were rudimentary and in many cases have been superseded by contemporary scientists.  Wouldn’t it make more sense to be conversant with the most recent scientific innovations? I think the answer to his question really has to do with the order of learning.   

 In the study of modern sciences almost universally, an attempt is made to begin with what is most simple.  Biology textbooks most often begin with the study of the cell and single-celled organisms and then proceed to a study or tissues, organs, systems, and then finally to individual animals and to ecosystems at the very end. Chemistry textbooks, in similar fashion, begin with the study of atomic structure and then proceed to the periodic table, then to chemical bonding and compounds and then to chemical reactions and such things as acids and bases.  The rationale present in the order of both of these disciplines seems to be that what is most simple in itself is also what is easiest for us to understand and that what is first in things is also first in our knowledge about those things.  Even a cursory glance at the historical order of discovery is enough to make us pause and wonder whether this is actually true.  

Those who have completed sophomore year will recognize that the order within our freshman and sophomore science tutorials is a complete reversal of the conventional order.  The reason for this is that in reality, what is most simple in itself is most often not what is easiest for us to understand.  Nothing is more simple than God Himself, yet nothing is more difficult for us to understand.  This is also true of the natural world.  The smallest parts of a thing are certainly simpler in themselves than the complex wholes that are composed of those parts.  But living organisms and unified inorganic bodies are perceptible by the senses and far easier for us to know than the smallest parts that constitute them.    There is a certain priority of hydrogen and oxygen in the composition of water.  For hydrogen and oxygen can exist without water, but water cannot exist without hydrogen and oxygen.  But we know water as a whole long before we know that it is composed of two elements.  By tracing the order of discovery in our natural science courses, we proceed in such a way that we can follow the arguments of those who first broke new ground in the discovery of the truth about the natural world and were moved by necessity from the more known to the less known.  I have always been struck by the following statement of Antoine Lavoisier, the father of chemistry, in his memoir of 1774: He says, “It has just been seen that a portion of the air is susceptible to combination with metallic substances to form calces, while another portion of this same air always refuses to combine thus.  This calcination has made me suspect that the air of the atmosphere is not a simple substance at all, but is composed of very different substances, and the work that I have undertaken . . . has singularly confirmed me in this opinion.”[27]  By studying Lavoisier and making his arguments and experiments our own, we follow the path from the more known to the less known and we move to certain knowledge that air is not a single substance, but a mixture of many substances rather than holding this as a mere opinion that we take on human faith.   

We do aim not at advancing as far as possible, but only at making a good beginning by focusing on the right principles and the proper method.  Aristotle puts it this way at the beginning of The Parts of Animals:  “For an educated man should be able to form a fair off-hand judgment as to the goodness or badness of the method used by a professor in his exposition.  To be educated is in fact to be able to do this; and even the man of universal education we deem to be such in virtue of this ability.”[28]  We also proceed in such a way that we attain, as much as possible, certain knowledge about nature rather than memorizing and repeating the claims of contemporary scientists.  It is only this certain knowledge of creation that begins with the right principles, uses the right method, and proceeds in the right order that can be directed to the higher knowledge of God Himself. 

Our study of Lavoisier is an example of one of the many ways that favoring great books over text books is an aid to the order of learning and to seeing the world through the eyes of those who understand it best.  The great books foster and satisfy wonder, which is so necessary for the pursuit of wisdom.  We seek the hidden beauty in and truth about nature.   For this reason, we eschew a humanism that emphasizes not objective reality, but the life, the times, the culture of the author.  As C.S. Lewis says of the study of a great mind, “I must make of him not a spectacle, but a pair of spectacles.”[29]  He continues to say that a great author is like a window, “But windows are not put there that you may study windows, rather that you may forget windows.  And if you are forced to attend to the glass rather than the landscape, then either the window or your eye is faulty.”[30]  Nature is God’s book; but to read this book, we need the spectacles of a great mind to unfold the ordered reality that both perfects the mind and leads us to the immeasurably greater perfection of knowing God Himself.  In contrast, textbooks, though perhaps indispensable at earlier stages of education, tend to emphasize purely practical and mechanical applications at the expense of understanding. 

(Before I give this next example, I must enter a guilty plea for having used and taught from the Saxon algebra series myself.)  In the introduction to his Algebra II  textbook, John Saxon says, “There is no requirement to like algebra.  I am not especially fond of algebra—and I wrote the book—but I do love the ability to pass through doors that knowledge of algebra has unlocked for me. . . . I enjoyed being an Air Force test pilot. A degree in engineering was a requirement. . .  My knowledge of mathematics enabled me to obtain this degree.” [31]  That the student need not delight in his education is a mantra of the modern educator. But if man by nature desires to know, man by nature also delights in knowing.  And sacrificing beauty and truth on the altar of utility is a sure way to quell any modicum of delight.  

 To make matters worse, Saxon excludes any formal treatment of geometry. In an attempt to justify this lacuna, he says “These students are not prepared for, nor do they have the maturity for a full appreciation of Euclidean geometry.”[32] Euclid is abandoned in favor of force-feeding students bland and dry facts and memorizing formulas and rules without understanding them. Later, when he introduces his “change sides, change signs” rule, which we know as Euclid’s second and third common notions, he says, ”it is . . . important not to let the emphasis on understanding interfere with our ability to do.”[33] Though John Saxon may be right that beginners in mathematics will not fully appreciate Euclid’s geometry, they are certainly capable of grasping the principles, following the arguments, and drawing certain conclusions. Because it begins with self-evident principles, Euclid’s geometry presupposes no prior knowledge of mathematics, and it is particularly suited to beginners because its objects are imaginable. We revere Euclid as the best teacher of mathematics that we know, primarily because of the order in which he proceeds and how well suited his work is to perfecting and delighting the mind in favor of any practical application that mathematics has. This perfection and delight of the mind which we pursue for its own sake, is paradoxically, indispensable for pursuing theology. 

This concludes the consideration of the ordering of the parts of the curriculum to sacred theology.  This treatment of how our curriculum is ordered to theology is certainly not exhaustive: many more examples could be given. But for your sake, I have tried to keep the lecture under an hour. Now I will attempt to manifest further the ordering of our curriculum by sacred theology.

 

III. A Curriculum Ordered by Sacred Theology 

The sciences have no existence independent of a mind.  At the very beginning of the mind’s journey along the natural road to wisdom are common conceptions to which all later conclusions can be traced.  As one advances from a lower science to a higher one, as from the knowledge of sensible things to purely intelligible ones, the higher knowledge necessarily depends upon and in some way includes the lower. For example, the knowledge of the first cause that we attain from metaphysics or natural theology cannot be attained without the knowledge of mobile being, as when we argue to God’s existence from motion. But the science of mobile being does not depend upon or include the knowledge of its first cause. Thus, knowledge of the higher sciences requires knowledge of the lower ones, but not the reverse.  It is therefore within the scope of the metaphysician to say how his science differs from natural philosophy, but the natural philosopher is not in a position to speak about metaphysics.  Because the order among the parts of a whole is determined by the end, it must be that the end of philosophy determines the order among the parts of the whole of philosophy. 

Thus, distinguishing the lower sciences of philosophy and establishing the order among them belongs to metaphysics or natural theology.  And if there is a science that surpasses metaphysics, it must belong to this science to judge the others and to distinguish between itself and the others.  Therefore, because the knowledge of sacred theology surpasses all the other sciences, it belongs to this science to order and guide the disciplines beneath it.[34] The founders of the College say,

 

This view [that Catholic education is superior to any other education deprived of the teaching Church] demands that the intellectual life be conformed to the teachings of the Christian Faith, which stand as the beginning of one’s endeavors because they guide the intelligence in its activities, and as the end (which we will see later) because those endeavors are undertaken so that the Divine teachings themselves may be more profoundly understood. (Proposal, p. 18) 

 

The Faith guides and guards the human mind even in its progress through the lower sciences known by reason alone.  Therefore, these lower disciplines are also ordered by sacred theology.  St. Thomas puts it this way: "sacred doctrine does not take its principles from another human science, but from divine science, by which, as from the highest wisdom, all our knowledge is ordered." [35] 

This sapiential function of theology is principally what distinguishes a Catholic liberal education from a secular one. Expounding on this point, the Proposal says,

 

The Catholic school, therefore, if it is to be faithful to the teaching of Christ, will differ from its secular counterpart in two essential respects.  First, it will not define itself by academic freedom, but by the divinely revealed truth, and second, that truth will be the chief object of study as well as the governing principle of the whole institution, giving order and purpose even to the teaching and learning of the secular disciplines.  (Proposal, p. 30)

 

So, not only is the understanding of divinely revealed truth the primary purpose of the lower disciplines, but it also serves as a governing principle, “giving order” to those disciplines.  

 One of the most prominent ways that the order among the parts of the curriculum manifests itself at 51���� is the sequence in which the sciences are studied. St. Thomas speaks of the order in which the disciplines of philosophy should be studied in his commentary on Aristotle's Ethics: 

 

Therefore this will be the proper order of learning:  first, boys should be instructed in logical matters, because logic teaches the way of the whole of philosophy.  Second, they are to be instructed in mathematics, which neither requires experience nor transcends the imagination.  Third, they should be taught the natural sciences which, although they do not exceed sense and imagination, do nevertheless require experience.  Fourth, they are to be instructed in the moral sciences, which require both experience and a soul free from the passions, as is maintained in the first book.  Fifth, they should be taught matters concerning wisdom and divine science, which transcend imagination and require a vigorous mind.[36]  

 

That the curriculum at 51���� should follow this order is no coincidence:  the sequence of the philosophical sciences was arranged to follow St. Thomas's order as closely as possible. In Learning and Discipleship, Marc Berquist says, "Our entire course of studies, therefore, the order [in] which we take things up, and the end to which we direct our efforts, is determined by the method, the principles, and the doctrine of Saint Thomas Aquinas." [37]   

 Because the order among the lower disciplines does not depend on revelation, it is certainly knowable by reason alone. Yet, because we cannot know this order without already being wise, it is nearly impossible to attain this knowledge on our own: we must know the disciplines in order to follow them in the right order, yet we must follow them in the right order in order to know them.  To escape this quandary, students must trust in the authority of a teacher if they are to make genuine progress toward wisdom. When placing our trust in a teacher, Catholics have the benefit of not having to rely on purely human authority: the Magisterium guides us even in matters of philosophy. This is because, as explained earlier, understanding revelation as well as we can is not possible without the natural knowledge that philosophy supplies. Pope St. John Paul II says in Fides et Ratio, " . . . philosophy, like theology, comes more directly under the authority of the Magisterium and its discernment, because of the implications it has for the understanding of revelation, as I have already explained. The truths of the faith make certain demands which philosophy must respect whenever it engages theology." (#77) Therefore, because philosophy comes under the authority of the Magisterium, the teaching office of the Church whereby divine revelation is clarified, there is a way in which the order among the sciences falls under the purview of divinely revealed truth and therefore within the scope of sacred theology.[38]    

Expanding on this point, the founders of 51���� were convinced that adhering to the method [of which the order within and among the disciplines is a component], the doctrine and the principles of St. Thomas is not just a preference, or even merely a recommendation, but a directive of the Magisterium. The Proposal for the Fulfillment of Catholic Liberal Education says, "following the teaching of the Church, . . . the philosophical studies in this school will be governed by the method and doctrine of St. Thomas Aquinas."[39] 

Thus, to be a theologian who is faithful to the teaching Church, one must follow St. Thomas Aquinas.  Speaking of the kinds of discipleship that define 51����, Marc Berquist explains, "We are disciples of the revealed word of God, of the teaching authority of the Church, of St. Thomas Aquinas, and of Aristotle.  These discipleships are not equal, they are not of the same kind, and in fact one is derived from the other."[40]  One of the points being made here is that our discipleship of St. Thomas is derived from our discipleship of the teaching authority of the Church.  That we must take St. Thomas as our teacher in philosophy and theology, is itself, then, a teaching of the Church. 

This teaching has been enunciated many dozens of times by nearly every pope throughout the centuries since the time of St. Thomas.   Pope St. Pius X says, “If the doctrine of any author or saint has ever been approved at any time by Us or Our predecessors with singular commendation joined with an invitation and order to propagate and defend it, it may easily be understood that it was commended only insofar as it agreed with the principles of Aquinas or was in no way opposed them.”[41]  Pope St. Pius X  also urged, “That no one, in any way whatsoever, depart from the regulations of the Church in the matter of teaching.  Rejecting modernistic fallacies, let them deal only with the sources of Sacred Doctrine and well-based philosophy from the rich vein of the Angelic Doctor.”[42]   Reiterating the teaching of his predecessors, Pope Benedict XV made the study of St. Thomas a law of the church by inserting this passage into the 1917 Code of Canon Law:  “Professors shall teach theology and philosophy and train students in these studies entirely according to the method, doctrine and principles of the Angelic Doctor, which they shall hold inviolately”[43] Following him, Pope Pius XI revived and solidified the title of Universal Doctor:  “Indeed, We so approve of the tributes paid to his almost divine brilliance that We believe Thomas should be called not only Angelic, but even Common or Universal Doctor of the Church. As innumerable documents of every kind attest, the Church has adopted his doctrine as her own.”[44] And the current code of canon law requires seminarians to take St. Thomas as their teacher:  “There are to be classes in dogmatic theology which are always to be based upon the written word of God along with sacred tradition, in which the students may learn to penetrate ever more profoundly the mysteries of salvation, with St. Thomas as their teacher in special way…”[45] 

In addition to these and many other magisterial statements insisting upon the discipleship of St. Thomas, two recent popes have made sure to use the word "magisterium" when requiring that we take St. Thomas as our guide, model, and teacher in both philosophy and theology.  First, in Lumen Ecclesiae, Pope Paul VI says, "A little time later, we called our attention to the 'return to St. Thomas,' an unexpected return certainly, but marvelous, which confirms what the supreme magisterium had said about him, that he is the authorized and irreplaceable guide of philosophical and theological studies."[46]   Second, Pope St. John Paul II says in Fides et Ratio,  

 

The philosophical disciplines should be . . . based upon the philosophical heritage which is enduringly valid [the philosophia perennis] . . .
          These directives have been reiterated and developed in a number of magisterial documents in order to guarantee a solid philosophical formation, especially for those preparing for theological studies. (#60)
          If it has been necessary from time to time to intervene on this question, to reiterate the value of the Angelic Doctor's insights and insist on the study of his thought (doctrina), this has been because the Magisterium's directives have not always been followed with the readiness one would wish. (#61)
          It should be made clear in light of these reflections why the Magisterium has repeatedly acclaimed the merits of St. Thomas's thought (doctrina) and made him the guide and model of theological studies. (#78) (emphasis added)

  

That St. Thomas should be our guide and model, and that we should follow his method, doctrine, and principles in both philosophy and theology, therefore, is a requirement for "following the teaching of the Church" as the founders maintain.[47]   

It is necessary here to make some important qualifications. First of all, the Church nowhere says that St. Thomas is the only theologian that we should study. In fact, following St. Thomas faithfully requires studying the philosophers and theologians that he himself studied.   

Second, it would be a mistake to say that we find in St. Thomas the whole of philosophy or theology and that he has the complete and final word on all matters.  Clearly discoveries and developments have been made in natural science and in answer to theological questions since the time of St. Thomas, who famously subjected his writings to the judgment of Holy Mother Church.  

Third, though the Magisterium has consistently enjoined upon us the obligation to take St. Thomas as our teacher, this does not mean, of course, that he is inerrant.    Certainly St. Thomas made mistakes, though remarkably few, and on rare occasions, even changed his mind about the answers to theological questions. So the Church is not demanding that we adhere to every conclusion in every work of his.  

The Church's teaching on St. Thomas does mean, however, that we cannot go wrong in adhering to his fundamental method, principles, and doctrine.    

One such example of a fundamental doctrine that cannot be mistaken is the distinction between a substance, which cannot exist in another subject, and its accidents, which cannot naturally exist by themselves, but only in a subject. This philosophical principle is part of the Church's teaching on the Eucharist, which is that bread is changed into the substance of Christ, while only the accidents of bread remain.  If one denies altogether the existence of substance, and thinks that substances are really just conglomerations of their accidents, it is not possible to have faith in the Eucharist. For there would be no difference between the accidents of bread and bread itself. Yet we must believe that the accidents of bread in the Eucharist are not bread. One must adhere, therefore, to Aristotle’s distinction between a substance and its accidents in order to accept the Church’s teaching on the Eucharist.[48]  So, we need not adhere to every assertion of St. Thomas, but we must adhere to his fundamental principles, method, and doctrine in order to be his disciples and disciples of the teaching Church.  

This discipleship of St. Thomas, though borne of a steadfast adherence to the teaching of Christ and His Church, is confirmed in our ability to grasp the truth that we learn from St. Thomas. Though we begin our studies by trusting the Church to choose our teacher for us, as we progress along the path to wisdom, we can see more clearly the necessity of following this path.  After proceeding from logic to mathematics to natural philosophy to ethics to metaphysics, one is able to see the necessity of studying logic first because it is continually needed in all the other disciplines.   One also sees the necessity of following the natural order of learning from sensible things to purely intelligible ones, progressing from the study of the visible natural world to the knowledge of the invisible First Cause.  

Therefore, in order for a program of Catholic liberal education to be true to its name, it must be ordered to understanding divinely revealed truth and the science of sacred theology that adopts this truth as its principles.  Further, this truth must serve as a guide[49] and ordering principle of the other disciplines that are necessary for understanding it. And we can conclude with certainty that in Catholic liberal education, the entire curriculum must be ordered to and ordered by the theology of St. Thomas Aquinas.  More than anything else, it is this that defines 51����. This fits with our motto, fides quaerens intellectum.  Theology, the queen of the sciences, begins with faith and guides the intellect in seeking the understanding even of those truths that we can attain by reason alone.  Further, the philosophical sciences, as ordered to  theology, are necessary for seeking the understanding of the divinely revealed truths of the faith. 

As we begin the year, I encourage all of our students to trust the wisdom of our founders, who saw the necessity of spending a great deal of time on the lower disciplines without which the intellectual perfection of theological wisdom is simply impossible. 

In seeking this intellectual perfection, we seek beatitude.  St.  Thomas says in his proemium to his commentary on the metaphysics:  “All arts and all sciences are ordered to one thing; to man’s perfection, which is his beatitude.”[50] 

This beatitude is nothing other than being united to God Himself.  St. Thomas says, “since the perfection of man consists in his union with God, it is necessary that man, by everything [every faculty] within him and as much as possible, strive to attain the divine, so that his intellect may rest in contemplation and his reason may delight in the investigation of the things of God, in accord with Psalm 72:28, “It is good for me to adhere to my God.”[51]    

 I see our moral, intellectual, and spiritual lives here at TAC as parts of a larger whole, all of which are directed to this union with God.   St. Thomas is clear that the moral virtues properly dispose and perfect the contemplative life.[52] And he says, “This is the ultimate perfection of the contemplative life: that the divine truth may be not only seen, but also loved.”[53]  

So often when he spoke to students, our founding president emphasized not only the importance of the intellectual life, but how that life fosters our spiritual lives.  On April 27th, 2012, on a sunny and cool evening in front of St. Joseph’s Commons, Ronald McArthur spoke these words: 

“It is inconceivable to me that someone could profit from this kind of education . . . without . . . turning to Christ with an interior life and a life of prayer.” 

“If this kind of education does not lead to more prayer and more of an interior life with Christ, then, . . . it is stunted.” 

“Therefore, it is really important that you pray more, you think of God more, [and] you use all your resources to serve God.  You do not serve man.  You use your time well, you study, and then you let God take care of you.” 

Our Faith is both the beginning of our path to wisdom because it orders and guides our progress, and the end because all of our efforts are directed to understanding it.  The importance of rightly determining the necessary steps to the knowledge of God can hardly be overemphasized; for it is in this knowledge that our perfection and happiness principally consist.[54]  

“And this is eternal life, that they know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom Thou hast sent.”[55]

 

 

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