Dear Friends of SJV:
It is hard to believe that it has already been two years since we began this monthly e-newsletter. I am grateful to see the men thriving and working hard as we begin the spring semester. I am also reminded of the phrase from Venerable Bruno Lanteri: Nunc coepi (Now, I begin). The Christian life is always about a new beginning, because we live in and from the resurrection of Christ. So we take heart despite our failures and limitations, knowing “in hope we were saved” (Rom 8:24).
This month we will hear from our newest philosopher professor, Elliot Polsky. He brings a fresh new pedagogy to an experienced and cohesive pre-theology program. And lastly, my old house deacon Connor Companik reflects on his nearly monastic routine of baking sourdough – not to be missed! As we close out this first month of the new year, we wish you all Christ’s grace and peace, with the promise of our prayers.
Fr. John
The Angelic Doctor
2025 marks the 800th anniversary of the birth of Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274), the Dominican friar and Master of Theology, canonized in 1323 and named Doctor of the Church in 1567. As a sign of his enduring importance both for the Church and for the world, St. John Paul II, in 1999, named him the “Doctor of Humanity” (Doctor Humanitatis).
In the Middle Ages, Brother Thomas stood in the first rank among a host of towering scholastic peers. Over the centuries, however, the Church has gradually come to single Thomas out for a preeminent place, not only among the great medieval school masters, but among all those who, in the past two millennia, from the earliest Church Fathers to living theologians, have dedicated their lives (and here we must borrow a phrase from Thomas himself) to contemplating and to handing on (contemplare et contemplata tradere)—that is, to dwelling on the word of God and to drawing others into this communal activity.
What exactly is this preeminent place that Thomas occupies among the countless theologians in Church history and why has the Church come to see him in this way? In my view, the special ecclesial role occupied by the Doctor Humanitatis is, perhaps, most fittingly captured by the Aristotelian teaching that the intellect must always progress from what is easy to what is difficult. St. Thomas is, above all, the great teacher (doctor) or pedagogue, who imitates Christ in shepherding us, his students, gently from what is most obvious to us to what is most obvious to God.
For seminarians in the “Mile High City,” whose studies are, above all, structured by the thought of Aquinas, the Angelic Doctor serves as a sort of angelic trail guide, helping them navigate the infinite riches of the sacred scriptures and of the Church’s two-millennial intellectual tradition.
Elliot Polsky
Lecturer
Sourdough Starter
Early on in seminary I thought I had everything figured out. I knew exactly the kind of priest I was supposed to be: I was the Gregorian chant guy and my mission was to preach the gospel of chant. “And who cares if it’s going to totally disrupt the way you all pray because the Church is on my side in this and you’re going to let me teach you!”
I clearly had some work to do.
Needless to say, the general reaction of the community was not very positive. But, unfortunately, I put all my eggs in one basket. To reject this was to reject me; and that’s how I felt for months.
One summer, a friend invited me over to his place to teach me how to bake sourdough. It’s an interesting process: you basically just mix flour and water, and let it sit and rot. It will look (and smell) like a total failure for days on end, but if you stay consistent and push through, it will work itself out and you’ll have a vibrant culture that will last basically forever.
Seminary can be a bit like creating a sourdough starter. Sometimes it feels like you’re just rotting away in the corner. It can seem like a pointless waste at times, but you have to persevere through it. Because if you’re consistent day after day, this internal struggle is what’s going to carry you through to the other side. And in the end you’ll find yourself ready: ready to be sent into the world—to die, even—but so that you might bear fruit.
Deacon Connor Companik
Seminarian, Diocese of Phoenix
