On his feast day, the Church remembers not merely a theologian of immense intellect, but a profound lover of God — a man who bent his towering mind in adoration before God – truly present in a small white Host. St Thomas Aquinas, mockingly called the “Dumb Ox” by his fellow students, owing to his physical structure, remains one of the most eloquent voices the Church has ever known precisely because he first learnt to be silent before the mystery of the Eucharist.
Thomas spoke little, not because he had nothing to say, but because he was listening. While others sharpened their arguments, he knelt. While others rushed to impress, he lingered before the tabernacle and leaned on God. His theology was not born in libraries but on his knees, forged in the long, quiet hours when the Word made Flesh gazed back at him from the altar.
It was St Albert the Great, his teacher, who saw beyond the mockery and uttered a prophecy that still trembles through the centuries:
We call him the Dumb Ox, but his bellowing in doctrine will one day resound throughout the world
And it did. But the greatest bellowing of Thomas was not in disputations, questions, or syllogisms. It was in hymns — hymns written not for lecture halls but for the Body of Christ.
When Pope Urban IV commissioned him to compose the liturgical texts for the Feast of Corpus Christi, Thomas gave the Church language that still breathes fire: Pange Lingua, Tantum Ergo, Adoro Te Devote (Sing, my tongue, the Saviour’s glory, of His flesh, the mystery sing). These are not academic exercises; they are love poems written by a man undone by the Eucharist.
In the Eucharist, Thomas found the convergence of all truth. Here, substance and accident bow before humility. Here, philosophy falls silent, and adoration begins. Near the end of his life, after a mystical experience while celebrating Mass, he laid down his pen and refused to write another word. “All that I have written seems like straw,” he said — not because it was false, but because he had touched the reality his words could only circle; the reality of God.
The Dumb Ox had learned what every theologian must learn: the Eucharist is not a problem to be solved but a Presence to be adored and glorified. In that small, fragile Host, Thomas saw the beating heart of the universe, the grammar of creation, the logic of love itself.
Today, as noise and confusion envelopes our world and opinions outpace wisdom, St Thomas Aquinas stands before us, still silent, still kneeling, still teaching, reminding the Church that the truest theology begins not with speech but with worship of Christ in the Blessed Sacrament. Therefore, our approach to the Word of God and the Eucharist must be to relearn silence with a soul that is postured to listen deeply to the voice of God.
