Even great works of literature and philosophy—from Huckleberry Finn and Heart of Darkness to, believe it or not, Kant's Critique of Pure Reason—are now regularly accompanied by "trigger warnings" that alert prospective readers to the racism, sexism, homophobia, or classism contained therein.

And popping up more and more at our colleges and universities are "safe spaces" where exquisitely sensitive students can retreat in the wake of jarring confrontations with points of view with which they don't sympathize.

My favorite example of this was at Brown University where school administrators provided retreat centers with play-doh, crayons, and videos of frolicking puppies to calm the nerves of their students even before a controversial debate commenced! Apparently even the prospect of public argument sent these students to an updated version of daycare.

Of course a paradoxical concomitant of this exaggerated sensitivity to giving offense is a proclivity to aggressiveness and verbal violence; for once authentic debate has been ruled out of court, the only recourse contesting parties have is to some form of censorship or bullying.

There is obviously much that can and should be mocked in all of this, but I won't go down that road. Instead, I would like to revisit a time when people knew how to have a public argument about the most hotly-contested matters.

Though it might come as a surprise to many, I'm talking about the High Middle Ages, when the university system was born. And to illustrate the medieval method of disciplined conversation there is no better candidate than St. Thomas Aquinas.

The principal means of teaching in the medieval university was not the classroom lecture, which became prominent only in the 19th century German system of education; rather, it was the quaestio disputata (disputed question), which was a lively, sometimes raucous, and very public intellectual exchange.

Though the written texts of Aquinas can strike us today as a tad turgid, we have to recall that they are grounded in these disciplined but decidedly energetic conversations. Continue reading

Sources

• Word on Fire article by Bishop Robert Barron.
• Image: Christian Classics

Terry Consedine was one of 23 New Zealand teachers to receive his award from Minister of Education, Hekia Parata at Parliament last week.

Awards are given to teachers after being nominated for outstanding work in their schools.

Calling it "a great thrill", Mr Consedine was delighted to learn of his 2013 nomination by senior students at Aquinas College.

However, to be selected as one of 23 out of a total of 600 nominated teachers was "very uplifting," Mr Consedine told CathNews.

"This is most certainly one of the greatest highlights of my career, a real source of encouragement," he said.

An enthusiastic teacher of Religious Education, Mr Consedine has been actively involved in Catholic education for nearly thirty years.

As well as teaching Religious Education, Mr Consedine is Deputy Principal of Aquinas College, Tauranga.

"Being able to walk alongside young people as they begin to formulate their spiritual journey is an added feature of a Catholic school; something I particularly value," he said.

At the presentation of his award Mr Consedine gave a five minute presentation on "Empowerment of the key players in education."

Lunch with Minister of Education, Hekia Parata and other winners followed.

Sources

• Bay of Plenty Times
• Aquinas College
• Image: Bay of Plenty Times

This does not make Aquinas a biblical literalist. He argues that the Bible is written in metaphors that render the divine mystery meaningful for finite human minds. We depend on material objects for our knowledge, and therefore we can only speak of God as if God, too, were part of the material world. Biblical language is multilayered, opening itself to mystery the more one allows its meanings to unfold. Aquinas says of scripture that "the manner of its speech transcends every science, because in one and the same sentence, while it describes a fact, it reveals a mystery" (ST I.1.10). Anyone who has ever thrilled to poetry understands this. Profound truths speak to us through ordinary metaphors when we take time to listen and reflect. Indeed, Aquinas insists that we should avoid exalted imagery when we speak about God, in case we are deceived into taking our language too literally. Read more

Sources

• Tina Beattie in The Guardian
• Image: London Lay Dominicans
• See also: Thomas Aquinas, part 2: the mind as soul and Thomas Aquinas, part 1: rediscovering a father of modernity
• Tina Beattie is Professor of Catholic Studies at Roehampton University, London, and a frequent contributor to the Catholic weekly, The Tablet and the online journal, Open Democracy