Hold firmly that our faith is identical with that of the

Host: The room was heavy with the quiet of the late afternoon. The light outside had begun to fade, casting long shadows through the half-open window. A soft breeze stirred the curtains, but the world beyond seemed distant, irrelevant. Inside, the atmosphere was thick with contemplation, as Jack sat with his elbows on his knees, his gaze fixed on the floor. Jeeny sat across from him, a book open in her lap, though her mind seemed miles away. The words of Thomas Aquinas had settled between them like a weight, and neither could ignore the pull of their significance.

Host: The quote, “Hold firmly that our faith is identical with that of the ancients. Deny this, and you dissolve the unity of the Church,” hung in the air like an ancient echo. Jack’s expression was one of resistance, of doubt, while Jeeny, ever the seeker of truth, felt the challenge of it calling to her. In the dim light, the moment stretched out, thick with the need for understanding.

Jeeny: She spoke first, her voice soft, yet full of a quiet challenge: “What do you think about Aquinas’s words, Jack? About holding firmly to the faith of the ancients, about how denying it dissolves the unity of the Church?”

Jack: His gaze lifted, his voice carrying the weight of skepticism: “I think it’s a nice ideal, but it’s also a bit rigid, don’t you think? To say that faith should never change, that it must always be the same as it was thousands of years ago—seems like it doesn’t leave much room for growth, for new understanding. The world changes, people change. How can we expect the same faith to survive unchanged in a world that’s so different from the one Aquinas knew?”

Jeeny: Her voice was steady, thoughtful: “But isn’t that the point, Jack? Aquinas believed that the truth of faith wasn’t bound by time or place. It’s eternal. If we lose that connection, if we let time or culture dictate what we believe, we risk losing something far more important—the unity of faith itself. The ancients didn’t just have their own version of the truth—they had the truth, the essence of it, that we’re still trying to understand today. Maybe we don’t have to change it to fit us, but rather align ourselves with it.”

Host: The words between them hung heavy, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to pause, as if listening to the intensity of their exchange. Jack, his brow furrowed, seemed to wrestle with the tension between tradition and change. Jeeny, however, sat steady, her expression unshaken, as if she were speaking from a place that transcended time.

Jack: He shook his head slowly, the doubt still in his voice: “I get what you’re saying, Jeeny, but I don’t know if I can believe that. The world is so different now. We can’t just go back and pretend things were the same. The ancients didn’t have the same challenges, the same complexities, the same questions that we have today. How can we expect their faith to have the answers for us? How can we just hold firmly to something that might not even speak to the world we live in?”

Jeeny: She leaned forward, her eyes meeting his with a quiet intensity: “Maybe it’s not about going back, Jack. Maybe it’s about remembering—remembering what they knew, what they believed, and how they held onto it through centuries of change. The essence of their faith wasn’t just about rituals or rules—it was about something deeper, something that connected all people across time. If we lose that unity, if we lose touch with that foundation, then we lose the very thing that has held faith together for millennia.”

Host: The air between them felt charged, as though their words were unraveling something deeper—something both old and new at once. Jack’s eyes softened for a moment, and Jeeny’s calm presence seemed to be guiding him toward an understanding he wasn’t ready to fully embrace but could no longer ignore.

Jack: His voice was quieter now, more reflective: “I see your point. But doesn’t the world we live in now—our world—demand a new kind of faith? One that speaks to the challenges we face today, the confusion, the questions? What good is it to hold onto something just because it’s ancient, if it no longer resonates with the people who live in the world we have now?”

Jeeny: Her expression softened, her voice gentle, yet unwavering: “Maybe it’s not about what changes, Jack, but about how we interpret it. We don’t have to lose the truth just because we live in a different time. The faith of the ancients was built on principles that still hold true today—love, sacrifice, truth, unity. What changes is how we live those out. What changes is how we understand them in our own time. But the core of it remains the same. And if we forget that, if we dissolve that connection to the past, we risk losing the very thing that unites us.”

Host: The room seemed to settle into a new silence, the weight of their conversation hanging like a thin veil between them. Outside, the night deepened, but inside, there was a light—a new clarity, a shared understanding beginning to form. Jack, though still uncertain, seemed to have begun to feel the pull of something greater than his doubts.

Jack: His voice, now softer, almost wondering: “So, you’re saying that the past isn’t something to be forgotten or replaced? That we can carry it with us, that it can still have a place in the world we live in now?”

Jeeny: Her smile was soft, almost reassuring, as she nodded: “Exactly. We don’t have to live in the past, but we also can’t lose it. We have to hold firmly to the truth they passed down to us, to the unity that faith has always provided, and find a way to carry that forward. It’s not about denying the present—it’s about honoring the past while building a future that still reflects its essence.”

Host: There was a quiet moment, as Jack’s eyes softened, the tension in his body beginning to ease. The world outside seemed far away now, irrelevant. The fire crackled gently in the corner, its warmth filling the room. Jeeny, ever the guide, sat quietly, waiting for him to process, to find his way. It was a moment of clarity, but also a reminder that the search for faith, for meaning, was a journey—not one to be taken lightly, but one to be taken with the conviction that the past, present, and future were always linked.

Jack: His voice was almost a whisper now, but it held a note of understanding: “Maybe… maybe there’s a way to keep that unity intact. Maybe faith, even ancient faith, can still have a place in the world we live in now.”

Jeeny: Nods, her voice steady: “It has to. Because without it, what do we have left?”

Host: The night continued to unfold, but inside, there was a quiet peace, the kind that only comes after a moment of understanding. Jack and Jeeny sat together in the soft glow of the fire, not having answered all of life’s questions, but having found a little more clarity, a little more unity in their shared pursuit of faith.