Here are my notes for a lecture I gave at the Angelicum in Rome for my licentiate in dogmatic and fundamental theology, adapted for this blog post.
I. Introduction
Q. What is the relationship between philosophy and theology?
In the 13th century, this question became a central point of debate with the arrival of Aristotle’s complete works in the Latin West.
For the first time, the Church faced a comprehensive philosophical system—Aristotelianism—built entirely on natural reason and developed without reference to divine revelation.
Its rediscovery posed a serious question for 13th-century theologians regarding the relationship between Aristotle’s philosophy and Christian theology.
St. Thomas Aquinas, in his Commentary on Boethius’ De Trinitate, stated the central question in this debate as such: “Is it permissible to use philosophical reasoning and authorities in the science of faith, whose object is God?”
One major objection Aquinas acknowledged was the fear that human reasoning might dilute divine revelation. This is vividly expressed using the biblical symbolism of water and wine—divine wisdom is symbolized by wine, while secular wisdom is symbolized by water.
In Isaiah 1:22, God laments: “Your wine is mixed with water”—a warning, it seems, against corrupting divine teaching with human wisdom.
During Aquinas’ formative years, resistance to philosophy like this was strong—especially among his own. His teacher, Albert the Great, lamented:
“[There are] some who in their complete ignorance want to oppose the use of philosophy. This is especially true among the Dominicans, where no one stands up to contradict them. Like brute animals they blaspheme against things they do not understand.”
Although Aquinas was a Dominican and was nicknamed the “Dumb Ox,” he gave an answer that not bovine but brilliant, worthy of his other title, “The Angelic Doctor.”
To the charge that using philosophy in theology was like polluting wine with water, Aquinas offered a surprising answer: “It is not a true mixture when one substance is transformed into another. Therefore, those who use philosophical doctrines in sacred teaching according to the obedience of faith do not mix water with wine, but change water into wine.”
Rather than diluting theology, Aquinas believed philosophy could be transformed into something very beneficial in the service of theology—just as water was turned into wine at the Wedding Feast of Cana (John 2:1–11).
Hence the title of this lecture: Ancilla Theologiae: Aquinas on Philosophy’s Service to Theology.
Although Aquinas does not explicitly use this medieval phrase—philosophia est ancilla theologiae—that is, “philosophy as the handmaid of theology”—I propose that the content of this expression faithfully represents his position of philosophy as having a relationship to theology like a handmaid to her queen.
This lecture will unfold by considering three symbolic relationships at the Wedding Feast of Cana, each offering a unique lens through which to understand the relationship between philosophy and theology:
- Water and wine
- The servants and Jesus
- The bride and bridegroom
By the end, I hope you’ll take away two things: First, a clearer grasp of Aquinas’ vision on how philosophy and theology should relate.
Second, a renewed desire to engage these two distinct yet complementary sciences more effectively—for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.
💧🍷 1st Relationship: Water and Wine
The first relationship in the Wedding Feast of Cana that illustrates the relationship between philosophy and theology is that of water and wine.
At one point in the feast, water and wine were clearly distinct.
💧 Water had filled the stone jars for ritual purification—something practical, natural, ordinary—and associated with cleansing and preparation.
🍷 Wine, by contrast, was festive, elevated, and meant for celebration—a sign of joy and communion—“to gladden the heart of man,” as the psalmist says (104:15).
Then Christ intervenes.
This transformation of water into wine offers a powerful image of Aquinas’ vision of philosophy and theology.
- Philosophy is like the water: drawn from the well of human reason, limited yet capable of preparing, purifying, and offering something good.
- Theology (as Divine Revelation) is like the wine: a heavenly gift of divine revelation—something rich, and full of grace, and a cause for joy and communion with God and others.
When philosophy is placed in the service of theology according to the obedience of faith—that is, when reason is guided and elevated by revelation—it is transformed, not diminished.
This transformative relationship reflects one of Aquinas’ foundational principles: Gratia non tollit naturam, sed perficit — “Grace does not destroy nature but perfects it” (ST I, q. 1, a. 8 ad 2).
Just as water remains within wine, yet becomes more perfect—something richer and more joyful for the wedding feast, philosophy remains a distinct discipline from theology, yet when used in the service of theology—it can be purified and elevated to fulfill a greater vocation.
Christ’s first miracle at Cana, then, is more than a sign of joy—it is a theological metaphor for the perfective relationship between philosophy and theology.
In this light, Aquinas becomes a master of this transformation.
He shows how philosophy, especially that of Aristotle—drawn from reason and nature—can be placed at the service of divine truth, elevated by grace through the obedience of faith.
Sixteen centuries after Aristotle, one can gaze upon the Summa Theologiae—a work in which reason and revelation are profoundly wedded—and say with awe: “You have kept the good wine until now” (John 2:10).
Thus, just as water is the handmaid of wine, so philosophy is the handmaid of theology.
And in this role, philosophy is not diminished, but ennobled—not discarded, but fulfilled.
Through the imagery of water and wine, we glimpse the beauty of a relationship in which nature is perfected by grace, and reason finds its highest expression in service to revelation.
🤲 ✝️ 2nd Relationship: Servants and Jesus
The second relationship at Cana that sheds light on the relationship between philosophy and theology is that of the servants and Jesus.
In this symbolic image, we move from theory to action—from the lofty and passive transformation of water into wine to the more active and concrete service that is required to make that transformation possible.
In his Commentary on Boethius’ De Trinitate, Aquinas identifies three primary ways that philosophy can actively and concretely serve theology:
- Prepare — Demonstrate the preambles of faith,
- Present — Clarify the truths of faith, and
- Protect — Refute the objections against the faith.
To help us understand these three services that philosophy provides for theology, imagine it’s the morning after the wedding of Cana.
A skeptical journalist named Guy wants answers. Determined to get to the bottom of what really happened, he tracks down one of the servants— Marvin, a simple but attentive man who saw it all unfold.
Notebook in hand, Guy raises an eyebrow: “So—how exactly did Jesus turn water into wine?”
Marvin looks surprised then chuckles: “I don’t know how He did it,” he says with a grin. “But I can show you where we got the water. I know how we filled the jars—just like He told us to. I’m happy to do it again if you’d like…”
This is precisely how philosophy serves theology in its first role:
1st service — Prepare — Demonstrate the Preambles of Faith
Just as the servants at Cana couldn’t explain how the water miraculously became wine, but could clearly demonstrate the steps they took that prepared for the miracle, so too philosophy cannot explain the mysteries of faith—such as the Trinity or the Incarnation—but philosophy can show the rational groundwork that leads up to them and makes them reasonable.
Aquinas calls these foundational truths the praeambula fidei—the preambles of faith:
- They are truths accessible to natural reason (e.g., that God exists).
- They are logically prior to the articles of faith (e.g., God’s existence is logically prior to the Incarnation).
- They can be demonstrated through philosophical reasoning (e.g., Aquinas’ Five Ways are philosophical demonstrations of God’s existence).
In this way, philosophy prepares the path for theology.
Even when someone doesn’t yet believe—like the journalist Guy—these rational arguments can help them take the first steps toward faith with confidence and integrity.
2nd service — Present — Clarify the Truths of Faith
Having confidently demonstrated what came before the miracle, Marvin now clarifies certain aspects of the truths surrounding the miraculous conversion of water into wine—even if he can’t explain how Jesus did it.
“We filled the jars with water,” Marvin recalls. “We were there the whole time. Jesus prayed. Then He told us, ‘Now draw some out.’ I did—and it was wine. I couldn’t believe it. But I saw it. The steward said, ‘You’ve kept the good wine until now.’”
Marvin pauses, then adds with quiet conviction, “All I know is—I filled the jars with water. And what came out… was something entirely different.”
This moment captures the 2nd service of philosophy: not to prove or explain away the mysteries of faith, but to present and clarify them.
Philosophy can do this in several ways, such as:
- offering conceptual tools,
- drawing useful analogies,
- making careful distinctions.
Take the Eucharist: faith confesses that the bread and wine truly become the Body and Blood of Christ—really, truly, and substantially. This change is fundamentally a mystery of faith, grounded in Christ’s words: “This is My Body.”
Although philosophy cannot fully explain the miracle, it can offer essential metaphysical tools that help the Church speak about it with precision and clarity. Concepts like substance (what a thing is) and accidents (how it appears) allow theologians to distinguish between what changes (the inner reality) and what remains (the outward signs). Without such philosophical distinctions, the Church could fall into symbolic reduction or crude literalism.
In this way, philosophy doesn’t compete with theology—it clarifies and illuminates the mystery. It allows faith to be not only confessed but also contemplated—guiding the mind to bow before the mystery with both reverence and understanding.
3rd service — Protect — Refute the Objections Against the Faith
Back to Guy and Marvin. The conversation isn’t over.
Guy straightens up, recalling his reputation as the most skeptical journalist in all of Galilee.
With a smirk, he fires back: “Maybe Jesus swapped the jars. Or maybe He’s just a charismatic fraud—or worse, delusional. Ever think of that?”
Marvin pauses. His expression firm—not with anger, but conviction.
“I understand the doubt. But I was there. I filled the jars myself—just water, nothing added. Jesus never touched them. He didn’t make a scene or draw attention. He simply looked at us and said, ‘Now draw some out.’ I did—and it was wine. Given that, it’s hard to call Him a fraud or delusional. There was no trick, no setup, nothing to gain.”
This captures the 3rd service of philosophy: to protect theology when it’s challenged or distorted, either by
1. revealing the falsehood of objections, or 2. showing their unnecessariness in light of what’s already been revealed and reasonably understood.
Take the doctrine of the Incarnation. Some object: “How can Jesus be both fully God and fully man? Isn’t that a contradiction?”
Philosophy helps reveal the falsehood: contradiction only exists when something is affirmed and denied in the same respect. But classical Christology teaches that Jesus is one divine Person with two distinct natures—divine and human—not one person and two persons, or one nature and two natures.
Once the philosophical distinction between person and nature is properly understood, the objection not only collapses—it becomes unnecessary.
Thus, philosophy, when rightly placed in the service of theology—it can be a powerful defender against certain objections to the faith.
To summarize this second relationship at Cana—the servants and Jesus—we see how philosophy serves theology not in theory, but in action.
Like the servants who prepared the jars, obeyed Jesus’ command, and witnessed the miracle, philosophy plays a vital supporting role in the unfolding of divine revelation.
Aquinas identifies three essential ways philosophy does this:
- Prepare the way by demonstrating the preambles of faith
- Present the truths of faith with clarity, coherence, and wonder.
- Protect the faith by refuting objections and guarding the mystery from error
In all of this, philosophy fulfills its role as the ancilla theologiae—the handmaid of theology.
💍3rd Relationship: Bride and Bridegroom
The third and final relationship at Cana that sheds light on the relationship between philosophy and theology is that of the bride and bridegroom.
In this symbolic pairing, we see a nuptial icon of harmony, complementarity, and fruitfulness that should mark the union of philosophy and theology.
Just as husband and wife become one flesh while remaining distinct persons, so too philosophy and theology remain distinct in origin and method—reason and revelation—yet are called to a deep and ordered union. Their relationship is not one of confusion or competition, but of ordered intimacy, in which philosophy flourishes in the presence of theology.
This nuptial image aligns perfectly with Aquinas’ vision: philosophy is the love of wisdom—and theology (as Divine Revelation) is Wisdom revealed. What better image, then, than a bride seeking union with her beloved? The philosopher searches for truth with the tools of reason, and in theology she discovers her fulfillment—not by losing her nature, but by being perfected by grace.
💔 But this image also explains the pain of separation.
Like the wounded relationship of Adam and Eve after the Fall, philosophy and theology have often turned on each other—reason seeking independence, and faith growing defensive.
⚔️ In modernity, this rupture deepened:
- 🧪 Philosophy sought independence from revelation, reducing truth to empirical data or subjective feeling.
- ⛪ Theology, in response, sometimes became defensive or withdrawn, retreating from rational discourse.
📉 The result? A faith without reason, and a reason without truth.
As Peter Kreeft put it: “Without faith, there’s no faith in reason—so reason dies. Without reason, there’s no reason for faith—so faith dies.”
But when philosophy and theology are rightly ordered, their union gives birth to understanding, beauty, and joy.
Conclusion
Through the lens of the Wedding Feast at Cana, we’ve explored three symbolic relationships that illuminate Aquinas’ vision of the ordered and fruitful union between philosophy and theology. To summarize, I’d simply like to highlight the strengths and weaknesses of each image, hoping to show why holding the three together provides a complete picture for the relationship between philosophy and theology.
1. Water and Wine
- Theme: Grace perfects nature.
- Strength: Highlights theology’s elevation of philosophy through transformation.
- Limitation: Water is passive—lacking the active, personal dimension of philosophy’s search for truth.
2. Servants and Jesus
- Theme: Philosophy actively serves theology.
- Strength: Shows philosophy’s practical power in actively clarifying the truths of the faith.
- Limitation: Risks reducing philosophy to a mere instrument, without capturing its distinct value as a science in its own right.
3. Bride and Bridegroom
- Theme: Complementarity, ordered union, and fruitfulness.
- Strength: Captures harmony, intimacy, and mutual flourishing.
- Limitation: Risks suggesting equality of authority when, in truth, philosophy must be rightly ordered to revelation.
Together, these three images reflect a complete vision of philosophy’s role as the ancilla theologiae—a humble servant of truth, seeking loving union with theology, and perfected by grace.
And when philosophy serves as the handmaid of theology, both reason and revelation shine more brightly—for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.
🌹 Mary: The Perfect Image of Union
To conclude, we look not just to Cana—but to Mary, who was present at Cana and who embodies this ordered relationship.
She is the pure water, filled “to the brim” with grace. In her immaculate receptivity, the Word became flesh—not by her own power, but through her humble fiat. She shows that human nature, when fully open to God, can be transformed into the new wine of divine life.
She is the servant, the ancilla Domini, who prepares the way for Christ’s first sign and points others to Him with clarity: “Do whatever He tells you.” For over two millennia, she has helped the Church clarify the truths of the faith and protect her children from error—not by overpowering, but by humbly and quietly guiding.
And she is the bride—not only of Joseph, but mystically of God Himself. As the New Eve beside the New Adam, she stands at Cana as a sign of the renewed marriage between heaven and earth, faith and reason. Her love for Christ is the perfect model of ordered desire: philosophy as the love of Wisdom incarnate.
And finally, as Peter Kreeft says, she is the greatest philosopher who ever lived. For philosophy is the love of wisdom. And Jesus is Wisdom Incarnate. Since Mary loved Jesus more than any other human being ever did, she is the greatest philosopher who ever lived, for she had the greatest love for the greatest wisdom.
Prodigal Catholic 
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