Students of the Thomistic synthesis have always had to deal with the ambiguities inherent in the project of bringing together an Aristotelian vision of ethics and the inevitable-—for a Christian—intrusion of the law-centred vision of the Bible. And because of the centrality of the Bible in Western culture, discourse about ethics has remained largely law-centred. We think of ethics in terms of law, even, as been suggested, long after belief in, or acceptance of, a notion of divine law had been largely eroded. In the Church, in spite of Aquinas's espousal of Aristotelianism, the law-centred idiom remained dominant. And it can be argued that this conception of ethics is a source of many of the problems faced in discussions of ethics in the Church today.

In the light of this, it may be worthwhile to look again at Aquinas's attempt to reconcile the ethical discourse of Christianity, based on the Torah, with that of Aristotle. For reasons that may in fact be familiar to readers of G.E.M. Anscombe’s now famous 1958 article on modem moral philosophy, Aquinas chose to make the Aristotelian account the centre of his own thought on ethics, to the extent of incorporating theological elements such as the virtues of Faith, Hope, and Charity into an Aristotelian format.

A consideration of our human participation in the divine creativity can be regarded as a legitimate, indeed desirable appendix or coda to the theology of creation. It is essentially a consideration of the relationship between creature and creator, of the active relationship indeed of creatures, that is of ourselves, with God. A look at God’s active relationship with us, at what the creator does with and for his creatures, means reflection on God’s providence and on his government of his creation. A look at our active relationship with God, at what we as creatures do for the creator, means reflection on our ability and our need to know and glorify God.

But the question immediately arises whether it makes sense to talk about creatures doing anything for the creator; and it is answered by the very firm assertion that God has absolutely no need of his creation at all. We, all creatures, owe him everything, he has no need of us. Our need of him is total, he owes us nothing. Difficult to establish any relationship between such radical unequals, but leaving that point aside, we are faced with the next question that arises, which is why, in that case, did God create the universe. The only possible answer is because he wished to. And why did he wish to? The answer you give to overpersistent children—because he did.

Let me begin by thanking in the first instance Dr Sarah Jane Boss for the honour of being invited to give this inaugural lecture, celebrating the establishing of the Marian Study Centre here at LSU College of Higher Education. In offering such thanks, I would like to extend them beyond that invitation to include thanks for the establishing of the Marian Study Centre itself. Without having any sort of “inside track” information, I imagine that thanks for such a timely and courageous move are due not only to the interests and commitment of Dr Boss, but also to the creativity and energy of Professor Mary Grey and the innovative drive and support of the Principal of LSU, Dr Anand Chitnis.

If you remember the terms introduced into our national vocabulary by “ Yes Minister”, my characterisation of the founding of the Marian Study Cenlre as “courageous” may begin to sound a little ambiguous. If my memory serves me accurately, bold decisions cost you votes, while courageous decisions cost you elections … But I would wish to stay with the term “courageous”, because I think that in its unambiguous sense it dbes apply. The doyenne of Jungian analysts in the UK, the Baroness Vera von der Heydt, points out the sensitivities that may be involved: