The Philosopher-Theologian, Thomism, and Analogy

Prefatory Remark: The following reflection considers themes found in the recent publication: Intelligibility of Nature: A William A. Wallace Reader (edited by John P. Hittinger, Michael W. Tkacz, and Daniel C. Wagner – The Catholic University of America Press, 2023). Specifically, the observations and analysis below examine themes that Father Wallace outlined in the final chapter of this volume.

In 1969, the American Catholic Philosophical Association named William Augustine Wallace, O.P., as its president. In his presidential address, Wallace identifies himself as a Thomist who is both a philosopher and theologian. In this respect, he suggests that his viewpoint about the current status of Catholic thought is “unique.” Wallace observes that his election as president of the Association perhaps suggests that the Association’s members want “a philosopher-theologian as president” (p. 247). Wallace’s comments were meant to address the association in light of “the existential situation in American philosophy and American theology” (p. 247, fn. 12). Wallace notes a peculiar phenomenon: “in philosophy, Catholic thinkers have made it a point never to discuss theological issues; whereas in theology, Catholics seem to have made it a point to avoid philosophy” (p. 247, fn. 12).

This essay remains interesting several decades later because of when it appeared shortly after the close of the Second Vatican Council. Wallace references numerous times the project of renewal that had begun to occupy theologians and their interests after the Council. He identifies an underlying phenomenon of change that is evident to all Catholic thinkers during this period. He observes that some—the pessimists—might characterize this phenomenon as one of crisis. Others, however, characterize what is happening as an instance of renewal.

Wallace brings his remarks to a close by observing that it is one of the tasks of philosophy in general—and of Catholic philosophy in particular—to keep theology and theologians honest. What did Wallace mean by this? Wallace was seemingly skeptical about theology’s ability to retain its own native and proper orientation and purpose.

With tact and subtlety, he points to examples in which Catholic theology—and even Protestant theology for that matter—during this period was already beginning to succumb to fanciful confusions about its own proper identity. The evidence that supports this claim lies in the peculiar re-envisioning of traditional Catholic doctrine. Specifically, Wallace identifies efforts to reframe the Eucharist in a non-substantial manner. Moreover, with regard to Vatican I, he points to peculiar conceptions of the nature of human intellection. He does not have to look far to find prominent examples of creative re-envisioning to illustrate his point. Moreover, he proposes that the Council of Trent and Vatican I both depend upon the philosophical realism that Aquinas carefully articulated seven centuries before the Second Vatican Council.

It is worth noting, however, that Wallace was not against the Second Vatican Council. One senses in his prose a desire—indeed the desire is explicit—to serve the Church and Catholic doctrine as a philosopher. The particular service of Catholic philosophy is precisely philosophy’s orientation toward the real and the true. Without such a realist foundation it would be possible for theologians to lose their bearings.

If we consider the situation today, things are both different from and yet similar to the state of things in 1970. With regard to the differences, Wallace was writing in a moment when Thomism was beginning to fall out of favor with Catholic intellectuals. Today, we recognize that Thomism has yet again emerged as a significant force that attracts intellectuals of both sacred and secular persuasions. So, in this regard, Wallace’s underlying concerns no longer apply—at least not in our present moment. Thomas and the Thomists have once again attracted the interest of philosophers and theologians.

With regard to similarities between now and then, however, we can point to the ongoing desire propagated amongst Catholic theologians and philosophers for renewal within their respective disciplines. Here, ironically, is where one would expect to find discontinuity with the context in which Wallace found himself in 1970. One would expect that the project of renewal begun in the mid-20^th century was already reaching culmination. Such is not the case, however. The project of renewal is something still heralded as an unrealized yet perennially important prerogative of the Second Vatican Council. Even two generations or so later, the project of renewal has not achieved its final term. Thus, our present situation shares more in common with Father Wallace’s analysis then, perhaps, he would have anticipated in 1970.

And this is why his essay retains value and interest for us in our time. His diagnostic and prognostic analyses of Catholic intellectual thought in general—and of the relationship between Catholic philosophy and theology in particular—are still relevant. He cautioned—indeed he exhorted—Catholic philosophers to take up the mantle of their traditional role of serving theologians. (Of course, we also presume that Wallace would further distinguish the distinction between philosophers serving theology and philosophy serving theology…) And he did this through a reminder that any philosophy that is truly valuable—that is truly worthy of the name “perennial”—will retain a fundamental orientation towards reality as well as an openness to the questions and concerns of a given period. The balance, thus, that one finds Wallace’s essay are most applicable to our 21^st-century situation.

Another interesting detail that Wallace homes in on is the question of analogy. Indeed, this emphasis and focus in his essay lies at the heart of the questions he engaged in 1970 and the questions that remain vibrant in the 21^st-century. Why analogy? Analogy within Wallace’s presentation comprises the dynamics of both being and knowledge. As Wallace suggests, it is difficult to find a topic more foundational to the link between philosophy and theology than the question of analogy. He highlights the Thomistic tradition as being particularly relevant for Catholic intellectuals of the 20^th century. To speak in a way that is, perhaps, slightly provocative, one could say that the question of being and knowledge in relation to the real distinction between God and his creation is even more foundational to speculative discourse than questions of human understanding or of the reality of the Eucharist. One might see in Father Wallace’s address the suggestion that the peculiar innovations that, at that the time of its composition, characterized Eucharistic theology and questions of human understanding find their origin in a lack of appreciation for sound teaching about the doctrine of analogy or a lack of awareness or disregard for the doctrine of analogy.

Thankfully, in recent years, the question of analogy has reemerged as both interesting and important for Catholic thinkers. There has been admirable work on the nature of analogy from reputable presses. What remains to be done however is the application of the intellectual work—usually of a speculative-historical nature—to the questions that theologians of the 21^st-century are asking or, perhaps, more accurately stated should be asking. Indeed, everything that a theologian says about God reflects continuity and discontinuity between creatures and God. All of theology proceeds according to some conception of predication. Whether or not one is a Thomist is irrelevant to this point. Even if one embraces a univocal understanding of predication, predication is still essential. In this way the univocal and the analogical bear essential similarity. Both univocism and analogy affirm that a rational human person can state true things about God. Only those who endorse an equivocal understanding of divine predication would fall outside of this unity. The ironic thing about equivocism, however, is that equivocism stands in an awkward situation: it denies what it itself seeming does. In other words, to argue vociferously that one cannot stay true things about God—at the very least—places the arguer paradoxically close to saying something true about God.

Thomism is back in style. There are many reasons which account for its return. No doubt its dialectical utility is one of the main reasons. Moreover, its ability to integrate with the teaching and doctrine of the Catholic Church makes it easy for intellectuals, who wish to be Catholic, to think in union with the Church.

The most important thing about Thomism—this I believe is what Aquinas himself would have wanted us to realize about his thought—is that it’s simply true. Truth reflects the human person’s grasp of the way things actually are. The truth is both objective and subjective in its connotations. Objectively, the truth terminates in reality—even divine reality. The human person’s intellect can really be conformed to the way things truly are. Truth changes the human person. This is what Thomas Aquinas is all about. He was not merely an intellectual who pursued a system of thought simply for the process of thinking itself. Rather, his system of thought was proportioned to the way things actually are. For Aquinas, reality—as known and loved—is the ultimate standard for all Catholic thought.

Because Aquinas recognized the importance of reality and truth, he also recognized the importance of analogy. Of course, his doctrine of analogy was not as fully developed as his readers would have liked. Subsequent Thomists assumed the task of clarifying the Aquinas’s thought in pursuit of a “Thomistic doctrine of analogy.” The Thomistic doctrine of analogy, thus, comprises themes that are both timely and timeless: being, truth, knowledge, philosophy, and sacred theology.