Early Fall Reading

The Concept of Woman: Volume III: The Search for Communion of Persons, 1500-2015. By Sister Prudence Allen, R.S.M., Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2016. 546 pages. Reviewed by Joshua M. Evans, Ph.D.

Revelation. Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture. By Peter S. Williamson. (Ada, MI: Baker Academic, 2015) 379 pages; $22.99. Reviewed by Matthew Rose.

Christ’s Descent into Hell: John Paul II, Joseph Ratzinger, and Hans Urs von Balthasar on the Theology of Holy Saturday. By Lyra Pitstick (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmann Publishing Company, 2016) 135pp. Softcover, $12.00. Reviewed by Matt Chicoine.

Reading the Sermons of Thomas Aquinas: A Beginner’s Guide. By Randall B. Smith. Steubenville,OH: Emmaus Academic, 2016. Reviewed by Matthew K. Minerd, Ph.D.

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The Concept of Woman: Volume III: The Search for Communion of Persons, 1500-2015 by Sister Prudence Allen, R.S.M., Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2016. 546 pages. Reviewed by Joshua M. Evans, Ph.D.
Sister Prudence Allen’s latest and final book in her three-volume series, The Concept of Woman, is a fitting capstone to what has been an immensely important philosophical project. The three books ambitiously trace the Western world’s intellectual discussions about women’s nature—from Aristotle to the twenty-first century—with her most recent offering covering the period from 1500-2015.

Sister Prudence is a philosopher who is deeply versed in theology (since 2014, she has been a member of the International Theological Commission). She is also a teacher whose long years forming Catholic seminarians, and providing guidance to an influential women’s apostolate, have given her a deep sensitivity to the intersection between the theoretical and the pastoral aspects of Faith. This sensitivity comes out in crucial ways in a book that deals with some of today’s most controversial topics.

As Sister Prudence Allen shows, disagreements over the concept of womanhood have always been a proxy for fundamental debates over the proper understanding of body, soul, and human identity, that have been, and continue to be, at the heart of the West’s intellectual journey. Sister Prudence’s third volume comes at an opportune moment, when issues of gender and sexuality have so quickly led to so much uncertainty about both why things have changed, and where we should be headed. Allen’s chapters, six and seven, are a perfect pair: the sixth laying out the most recent causes of what Allen calls the “viral” gender ideology whose icon and “cover girl” is Caitlyn Jenner; and the seventh chapter offering a scholarly, sober, and accessible argument that John Paul II’s anthropology provides a way forward, and is deeply rooted in a new breed of Thomistic personalism, resiliently ever green, even in today’s climate.

All three of Allen’s books are as comprehensive as an encyclopedia of ideas about women. In the third volume, Allen also offers a compelling philosophical argument in favor of the “integral complementarity” of woman and man that “describe[s] the actual structure of women in the world” (2) rooted in a Thomistic hylomorphic anthropology (i.e., embodied soul/ensouled body) that sees each soul as “commensurate” with its specific masculine or feminine body.

The term “complementarity” has wide-ranging meanings—man and woman, yin and yang, oysters and champagne—along with a fraught recent history in Catholic anthropology. For some revisionist thinkers, “sexual orientation complementarity” has become the sine qua non for sexual ethics, with the corresponding ethical conclusions one would expect. Whereas more classically-minded thinkers have used the concept “complementarity” in a variety of ways to argue for quite a different set of ethical conclusions. While some have suggested abandoning the concept of complementarity because of its multiplicity of meanings, Allen instead takes the more fruitful approach of separating out different senses of complementarity in order to show why “integral complementarity” is both useful and intellectually compelling.

Sr. Allen argues that integral complementarity is distinctly better because it is not fractional (two incomplete parts of a complete whole); it is not polarized (difference that competes for priority); and, it is not artificial (no real difference). Any philosophy that sees woman or man as incomplete, in competition, or only trivially different does not respect the dignity and uniqueness of either man or woman. Man and woman are, rather, two distinct ways of being human, and what fundamentally distinguishes them, and gives them a gendered identity is, in fact, their embodied natures. The book’s cover—an image of La Virgen de Guadalupe—is an icon of the Incarnational realism at the heart of integral complementarity: the Word of God takes our fleshly existence seriously, and so should our thoughts concerning gender and sexuality.

Much of the philosophical history covered by Allen, in the third volume, is a discussion about the meaning of the body for human identity. Cartesian dualism is a familiar reference point here: “I think, therefore I am.” Sr. Allen’s capacious approach is on display in her treatment of the immediate aftermath of Descartes’ thoughts on the subject. While Princess Elisabeth of Bohemia sought to purify Descartes’ claims in a Cartesian spirit, Anne Conway and Margaret Cavendish brought fresh methods and insights to the discussion. Even though Sr. Allen judges all three of these contributions to be ultimately unsatisfactory, her approach shows just how wide-ranging the book is, and how long-standing and rigorous are women’s contributions to these perennial discussions in human intellectual life.

The heroes of the book are John Henry Newman and John Paul II. Newman is important not because of his thoughts on human identity, but for his account of the true development of an idea over time (he never limited his account of development merely to Church doctrine). Allen uses Newman’s “notes” on true development as a test for the success of the different theories discussed in the book, and the thinker who gets the highest grade is St. John Paul II. It is difficult to summarize Sr. Allen’s wide-ranging, and incisive, analysis of the late Pope’s voluminous writings, so perhaps it is best to offer here an evaluation.

Allen’s interpretation of John Paul II’s anthropology is comprehensive, judicious, and fresh. She distills the important research on John Paul II’s account of embodied identity into one digestible chapter, and that alone is a huge gift to any reader. More importantly, Allen shows convincingly how the late Pope’s contributions to the discussion of human identity offer compelling answers to the central objections to the Thomistic hylomorphism that has long been the core of the best Christian anthropology. Sr. Allen’s account of John Paul II’s thought is all the more significant because it convincingly accounts for the wide-ranging set of alternate ideas that Allen has covered in the three volumes. Through Allen, the reader is invited to consider John Paul II’s thesis that the body reveals the person, and through reflection on the body, man and woman see that they are specifically different, equal in dignity, and oriented toward a communion of personal love, inspired by receptivity to the gift of creation.

In each chapter of the chronologically organized book, Sr. Allen adopts the core method of philosophy in its classic sense: “Philosophy integrates conclusions from other disciplines. It also considers relations among diverse fields” (30). The first chapter begins with an investigation of the significance of the revelations to Juan Diego, and the eschatological meaning of the Shroud of Turin, along with an in-depth look at the contributions of both Humanist Reformers, and Carmelites. The next chapter offers an equally illuminating treatment of debates over women studied in Italian humanism, and early modern satires. Chapter three is devoted to the relationship between revolutionary developments in science, both in cosmology and in biology, and philosophical and theological anthropology. Chapter four looks at Descartes, and his “aftermath,” both negative and positive. In chapter five, Sr. Allen weaves together modern political theorists (Rousseau, Kant, Mill), psychologists (Freud, Jung), and the early twentieth century Catholic philosophers (von Hildebrand, the Maritains, Edith Stein, and Marcel). Chapter six traces the twentieth century’s polarization of ideas, with the postmodern rejection of any relationship between bodily sex and truth on the one hand, and the Catholic response through such thinkers as Balthasar and Anscombe. Chapter seven is devoted to John Paul II.

The conclusion brings the reader back around to the fundamental issues, and leaves no doubt that Sr. Allen has made a powerful and long-lasting contribution in part because of her mastery of all the important voices in history. She leaves the reader with the undeniable impression that Catholic thinkers, on the subjects of gender and sexuality, have a bright future if they are rigorously engaged with all kinds of ideas, while being grounded in the formidable Catholic philosophical and theological tradition that has always held essential insights into the meaning of being truly human.

Book review by Joshua M. Evans, Ph.D.

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Revelation Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture. By Peter S. Williamson. (Ada, MI: Baker Academic, 2015) 379 pages; $22.99. Reviewed by Matthew Rose.
A great Scripture commentary series is hard to come by; there are plenty of good ones, but there are few great ones. One could argue that the test of a great Scripture commentary is how the authors handle the controversial and puzzling portions of the Bible. How does the writer approach, say, the book of Job, or the so-called “dark passages” of Scripture? The Book of Revelation is one of those Biblical books that could act as a theological litmus test, for the interpretation of Revelation highlights the hermeneutical vision of the commentator. If one adopts this view, then the Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture’s (CCSS) recent volume on the Book of Revelation truly presents the CCSS as the standard for Catholic Scripture commentary today.

To see the importance of the CCSS series as a whole, and the Revelation volume in particular, it might help to note how varied interpretations of Revelation have arisen throughout the Christian centuries. Martin Luther famously remarked, when confronted about why he did not like the Book of Revelation, that a book of revelation should reveal something about God and Christ. He was getting at what keeps many faithful Christians away from this book, namely the confusing and highly symbolic nature of St. John’s visions. When Christians do attempt to interpret Revelation outside of the Church’s living Tradition, they often interpret the symbolic portions of the text in a literalistic manner, ignoring important historical and literary information that help the reader understand what John and the Holy Spirit are trying to teach us. From this pattern of erroneous interpretation stems such varied ideas as the teaching of Jehovah’s Witnesses that only 144,000 people will be saved (drawn from Revelation 7) or the popular error of millennialism (where Christ will have a literal, physical thousand year reign before the final judgement, taken from references to Christ reigning for a thousand years in Revelation 20).

This volume from the CCSS, while presenting the reasons for these viewpoints, does not fall into the error of accepting them as fact. The reason for this is simple: author Peter Williamson draws not only from the text of the Scriptures, but also from the Church’s Tradition, and more recent commentators, as well. One of the highlights of the CCSS series is the extensive use of secular fields of study (specifically history, linguistics, and archaeology) and the Fathers of the Church to interpret Scripture passages. The secular sciences allow the reader to understand what the human authors of Scripture thought and experienced, and how that reality influenced the book we have in front of us. The Tradition of the Church allows us to experience what G. K. Chesterton meant when he referred to Tradition as the “democracy of the dead.” Saints and writers throughout the centuries have meditated on the Book of Revelation; we would do well to follow the CCSS series’ example and turn to them in our study of Scripture.

In a truly catholic (meaning here “universal”) way, Williamson also draws from the Christian cultural legacy. Illustrations throughout the book present various artistic representations of specific passages in Revelation. Pride of place goes to the illustrations of St. Beatus of Liebana, an eighth-century Spanish monk who drew pictures along with his commentary of Revelation (see p. 163, sidebar “St. Beatus of Liebana’s Illustrations”). Likewise, Williamson connects passages from the Apocalypse to the writings of J. R. R. Tolkien (Williamson references The Lord of the Rings on a couple occasions) and C. S. Lewis (particularly Lewis’ allegory, The Great Divorce, and his Reflections on the Psalms). By making such references to visual and literary art, as well as including stories from his own life, Williamson enlivens his reflections on Revelation, transforming what could be a dry commentary into a lively, personal one.

As with other commentaries in the CCSS series, this volume includes a passage from the Scriptural text in bold, followed by the author’s commentary for the passage. Phrases directly quoted from the passage appear in bold in the commentary, thus allowing the reader to read through the commentary without having to jump back and forth between Biblical text and commentary. A short “Reflection and Application” section often follows the main commentary. Sidebars throughout the book examine the “Biblical Background” of a given passage, and how the “Living Tradition” of the Church has approached the text. Distinctive to this volume is an Excursus entitled “Interpretation of ‘the Millennium’ through History” which provides a short, concentrated examination of this important topic.

As with other volumes in this series, Williamson’s commentary is written with scholarly skill yet popular language, allowing it to be used by a wide range of audiences. A glossary of terms helps those who approach Revelation without having studied it in detail, while footnotes cite where specific quotes originated, and a Suggested Resources section at the end provides a sort of “where do we go from here” for the work. Clerics and laymen alike will find in this volume spiritual treasures. Catholic apologists in particular should find this volume helpful in defending the Church’s teaching on Revelation, and the end times, particularly against groups like Jehovah’s Witnesses. Altogether, this book, along with others in the CCSS series, should find its way into any serious Scriptural library, whether Catholic or not.

Matthew Rose is a Roman Catholic theology and history teacher at Bishop Denis J. O’Connell High School in Arlington, VA. He holds a BA in History and English Language & Literature from Christendom College and a MA in Systematic Theology from the Notre Dame Graduate School of Christendom College. His website is quidquidestest.wordpress.com.

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Christ’s Descent into Hell: John Paul II, Joseph Ratzinger, and Hans Urs von Balthasar on the Theology of Holy Saturday. By Lyra Pitstick (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmann Publishing Company, 2016) 135pp. Softcover, $12.00. Reviewed by Matt Chicoine.
By going through one of the more ambiguous parts of the Apostle’s Creed, Lyra Pitstick tackles the doctrine of Holy Saturday in Christ’s descent into hell. In her introduction, Pitstick, seeks to answer the question concerning the approval of Balthasar’s general theological contributions, by Popes John Paul II and Benedict XVI. Chapter one contains Balthasar’s treatment on the significance of Holy Saturday, and his theology of this creedal event. Pitstick highlights four main points that underpin the priest’s theology: Christ’s descent completes redemption; Christ’s suffering increases in his descent; Christ became sin and literally underwent the Father’s wrath; and sin is expiating within the Trinity. To quote Balthasar, “Holy Saturday is…a kind of suspension, as it were, of the Incarnation…” (p. 4). Pitstick will focus on this point that Christ suffered after the descent as a major difference between John Paul II and Benedict XVI’s theology, using this approach throughout the rest of the book.

The next chapter relates to Joseph Ratzinger’s theology of Holy Saturday prior to his papal election in 2005. Pitstick shows that the German theologian moves away from the extremity of Balthasar’s theology. Using evidence from Introduction to Christianity (1968), Eschatology (1977), “Meditations on Holy Week,” Introduction (1997), The Spirit of the Liturgy (2000), Mediations on Holy Week (1967) and Behold the Pierced One (1981), Ratzinger’s Holy Saturday theology distances itself from his mentor, Balthasar. According to Pitstick, the major differences between the two theologians is that Ratzinger focuses on God’s apparent, but not real, abandonment of Christ during his descent, while maintaining that there is no suspension in the Incarnation.

Continuing with the theology of Ratzinger, chapter 3 examines his view of the descent, after Ratzinger’s papal election. Here, the Pontifical University of St. Thomas Aquinas graduate makes use of homilies, encyclicals, and books Benedict XVI wrote to survey his theological development on Holy Saturday. Like his view prior to becoming the Vicar of Christ, Benedict XVI continues to diverge from Balthasar by stressing the apparent abandonment of God in the descent. Another difference Pitstick found is “Ratzinger never asserts as Balthasar does, that the redemption was incomplete on the Cross, that Christ’s suffering intensified after his Death into abandonment in His filial relationship to the Father, that He was literally made sin in His descent, and that the whole Trinity experienced that event” (p. 53). Many times throughout the pages on Ratzinger, Pitstck points out that he utilizes metaphorical language to refer to the descent, and is not quite as clear as he could be with his descent theology (p. 41).

Chapter four charts out John Paul II’s Holy Saturday theology. Similar to Benedict XVI, the Polish pope diverges from Balthasarian thought. Where John Paul II differs from Ratzinger is that the former is more direct. According to Pitstick: “John Paul II’s clarity makes his beliefs about Christ’s descent easy to see” (p. 59). Three specific aspects of John Paul II’s descent theology are highlighted: the meaning of “descended into hell” relates to Christ experiencing a separation of body and soul, Christ’s descent begins his glorification, and the pope’s commentary on 1 Peter 3:19 refers to a non-metaphorical salvation of the just men and women. Referencing the Catechism of the Catholic Church heavily in this chapter, Pitstick maintains that John Paul II’s descent theology remains the closest to the official church teaching. His belief that Christ experienced a separation of body and soul after death is in line with the Catechism number 632. Pistick states, “The RC [Roman Catechism and John Paul II] is also explicit that Jesus did not suffer in His descent” (p. 69). This is in stark contrast to Balthasar’s view that Christ suffered during the descent.

Between the analysis of chapters six and seven is a brief tangential section on Cardinal Christoph Schönborn in regards to a parenthetical mention of Balthasar in the Introduction to the The Catechism of the Catholic Church. Pitstick provides the content of what Schönborn said about Balthasar, the cardinal’s Holy Saturday theology, and the possible impacts that it has for Balthasar’s theology moving forward. To be honest, this chapter was a “red herring” and did not add much to the rest of the book. In her comparison of the three theologies of Holy Saturday, Pitstick focuses again on the differences, and provides a clear standard of measurement as she details definitions about the Church’s varying degrees of teaching authority. In chapter seven, Pitstick handles the popes’ praise of Balthasar, and provides ways to reconcile such accolades with the conflicting thought on the descent of Christ. She concludes her analyses with the following position: “There is certainly praise of the theologian, but there is no approbation of specific theses, least of all his theology of Holy Saturday, with which Ratzinger explicitly said he could not concur, and with which John Paul II took an incompatible position in his papal audiences, and promulgation of the CCC” (p. 106).

In the conclusion, Pitstick presents a clear and concise summary of the entire book. She reiterates how the three theologians differed on the doctrine of the descent. John Paul II ‘s theology aligned closest to traditional Catholic doctrine, as outlined in the catechism; Balthasar’s view of the theology was the most controversial, and Ratzinger’s theology landed in the middle.

Despite the unnecessary chapter on Schönborn, this treatment on the theology of Christ’s Descent into Hell was an enjoyable and insightful read. Utilizing a panoply of sources, Pitstick did a great job of focusing on each theologian individually, and later contrasting the differences in their theology. Priests and deacons will acquire a new depth and understanding of the Mystery of Holy Saturday, and this book will be invaluable to any homiletic and theological toolbox.

Matthew Chicoine, M.A. Theology, Franciscan University of Steubenville.

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Reading the Sermons of Thomas Aquinas: A Beginner’s Guide. By Randall B. Smith. Steubenville,OH: Emmaus Academic, 2016. Reviewed by Matthew K. Minerd, Ph.D.
In his Reading the Sermons of Thomas Aquinas: A Beginner’s Guide, Randall Smith provides the contemporary reader with an excellent, scholarly introduction to the sermons of St. Thomas Aquinas. While many readers are likely familiar with Aquinas’s theological treatises and philosophical commentaries, it is probable that few have been exposed, at-length, to his rhetorical presentations of revelation. This fact is peculiar, if one thinks about it, given that St. Thomas was a member of the Order of Preachers! One would think that Aquinas’s membership in a religious order dedicated to preaching of God’s word would rouse some interest in these sermons! Luckily for us in 2016, Smith’s monograph helps us to enter into the intellectual space of Thomas’s preaching, and understand the character of this “sacred rhetoric.”

As Smith explains at length (and with much erudition), the preaching style employed by St. Thomas was part of a development that began, perhaps, in the early part of the second quarter of the 13th century. This new rhetorical style was known as the sermo modernus, a style that Smith presents as being revolutionary in comparison with earlier preaching. Below, I will register a mild criticism on this point. Nevertheless, Smith is quite right to point out the unique rhetorical developments in this new sermon style, one that is marked by organizational patterns that are unsurprising to the reader familiar with the heady dialectics of the 13th and 14th centuries. However, as Smith shows very well and at length, the rhetorical style of the sermo modernus is not an extension of the syllogistics of the scholastic disputationes. Instead, it is a highly scriptural procedure using a carefully controlled rhetorical device, namely the division of, and expansion upon, a thematic scriptural text, which is chosen (often from the lectionary reading of the day) by the preacher as a kind of pneumonic device for the overall sermon based upon the preacher’s division of said text, and dilation upon the elements of said divisions.

Just as the medieval theologians were well studied in logic, so too were they well trained in a programmatic curriculum of rhetoric, one with classical roots in Quintilian, Cicero, et. al., but one that also provided the preachers of the sermo modernus with a new “Christian rhetoric” for a new style of preaching. In the monograph, Smith develops each of the procedures employed in this undertaking—and does so at length, providing examples from Aquinas’s sermons to illustrate the way that the Angelic Doctor chose a thema text for his sermon, and divided and dilated upon this thematic verse.

To provide some order in explaining the detailed mechanics of this procedure, Smith makes use of the fourteenth century manual of preaching rhetoric, Robert of Basevorn’s Forma praedicandi. Granted, Smith’s use of this text is anachronistic, and he admits as much. Nevertheless, since the manual provides a succinct overview of rhetoric that was quite similar to that used in 13th century Paris, the author ably employ’s Basevorn’s text as a reference concerning the various ways that Aquinas employed the numerous methods of division and expansion that were part of the standard sermo modernus practices. (The latter, in particular, can be quite overwhelming in their profusion, though Smith provides many clear examples of the methods.)

If there is one weakness to Smith’s otherwise excellent text, it pertains to his concentration (and emphasis) on the modernus in sermo modernus. As someone sensitive to the styles and methods of monastic preaching, especially those of the 10th through 13th century, I was struck by this fact. Granted, Smith shows well the true rhetorical developments that occurred between the “ancient” sermon, and the “modern” sermon. My concern, admittedly a minor one, is that he arguably downplays the continuities between later medieval monastic preaching, and the sermo modernus. Certainly, Smith does not claim that there is a radical split between sermo modernus and the monastic preaching that one may find in, for example, Bernard of Clairvaux, William of St. Thierry, Baldwin of Forde, et al. However, the monograph generally emphasizes differences at the expense of noting the similarities there are between these styles of preaching. (Although the well-known use of the various senses of scripture are shared by both styles, I couldn’t help feeling, with particular force, the old monastic rhetoric when Smith presented the sermo modernus’s “chaining” of scriptural texts.) Though this may seem a small point to the reader, I think it is important to pay attention to the continuity in the deeply scriptural language that was shared by these two milieus. If anything, this fact buttresses some of Smith’s central claims, most especially that Thomas’s preaching was truly a scriptural preaching, even though it does not use the kind of expository, critical reflections used today. There is much continuity in Catholic thought and culture, and we should always keep that in mind. Nonetheless, Smith is clearly more expert in these matters than I, and it is not at all incorrect for him to note the fact that the sermo modernus uses a significantly new form of rhetoric.

All readers of the text should consider purchasing Hoogland’s translation of the sermons, Thomas Aquinas: The Academic Sermons. Smith provides nearly a hundred pages of analytical outlines of the sermons, providing an invaluable tool for undertaking a careful reading of Aquinas’s own text. The more technically inclined reader (especially an instructor using the text) would do well to consider reading Basevorn’s “manual” in conjunction with the text. While Leopold Krul, O.S.B.’s translation of Basevorn’s Forma praedicandi is no longer in print, the reader may well have a chance to purchase one of the ample number of used copies of the text that are still available online.

As should already be evident from the main body of this review, Smith’s text is a truly scholarly work. Indeed, by giving such studied attention to this underappreciated body of St. Thomas’s works, the monograph should be considered the point of departure for further academic studies on the details of the Angelic Doctor’s preaching. Saying this, however, also indicates that the expression “beginner’s guide” is something of a misnomer. Because the work provides the sort of overview and historical introduction that it does, it is an “introduction” indeed—but an introduction to a somewhat advanced study of Aquinas’s sermon. The text is from Emmaus Academic Press, after all, so this is to be expected. As one final small point, it is unfortunate that the publisher did not provide an index to the work, an element that will certainly be sorely missed by busy teachers and pastors who may want to consult topics in the text quickly.

Nonetheless, one should end on a positive note when the review is meant to be very positive. Dr. Smith has provided us with a highly readable and scholarly introduction to an important vein of ecclesiastical rhetoric. There is no “silver bullet” for solving mediocrities in contemporary Catholic preaching, and we should not go looking to the sermo modernus of the 13th and 14th century for a definitive answer for today’s problems. Nonetheless, given the many insights that one can gleam from this style of preaching, we would do well to spend time with Aquinas’s sermons, and Smith’s text provides the reader with an excellent guide for starting this undertaking.

I recommend the text above all for those who will teach homiletics. It is an invaluable resource that should inspire changes in one’s curriculum. Even if the text itself is not assigned in courses and seminars, it should inform one’s treatment of this important sermon style. It would be a shame if seminarians were not provided such a clear explanation of the sacred rhetoric employed in the sermons preached by the great Doctor of the Order of Preachers. Secondly, the text is good reading for priests who are looking for a text that will require some dedication and time for processing. A prayerful reading (even by a very busy priest) will likely bear much fruit in his preaching. Finally, the text is useful for late-undergraduate and introductory-graduate-level courses specializing in topics pertaining to Aquinas, medieval history, and medieval rhetoric.

Matthew K. Minerd, Ph.L., Ph.D. (Catholic University of America) is an Instructor of philosophy at Mount St. Mary’s University.

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