It was the year 1269, not likely very different from the years that came directly before and after it, except that it was during this year that a special meeting took place between a powerful king of civilization and a humble monk of God.

St. Louis the IX, king of France, was organizing a grand banquet that was to be held in his palace in a few weeks. During the course of the preparations, Louis drew up a list of those he wanted to invite and gave it to his messengers, telling them to oversee the distribution of the invitations.

As they looked over all the names Louis had chosen, the messengers were surprised to discover a unique name among those of the potential guests – the name of Fr. Thomas Aquinas.

"Your majesty," they said to Louis, "this is the name of a simple priest - a Dominican."

"I know." Louis answered.

"But, sire," they continued, "it is most unusual to invite a monk to a grand occasion such as this."

"For any other monk, that might be the case." Louis agreed. "But I hear that Fr. Aquinas has been blessed by God with the gift of wisdom. Who knows?" he added, with a twinkle in his eye, "Perhaps we will at last have some real material for conversation."

This, in fact, was the main reason why Louis had invited Thomas. He wanted to hear the great preacher speak on the things of God. With a pious excitement, the king looked forward to the day of the banquet, which at last arrived.

No less than four hundred people were gathered in the lovely and spacious halls of King Louis’ palace, walking among the elegant architecture as they immensely enjoyed themselves. Louis stood on the raised platform at the end of the Great Hall and surveyed the faces of all his guests, looking for that of the monk he had especially invited. At last, he spotted the familiar black and white habit of the Dominican order. Its wearer was standing beside a large gothic column, speaking to a wiry little monk of the same order who had accompanied him to the feast. Louis peered at the man, the giant who had once been titled "the dumb ox."

"Fr. Thomas Aquinas." He thought. He sighed and glanced Heavenward. "I pray that he shares some of his wisdom with us tonight."

Soon it was time for the banquet itself to begin, and all of the guests took their seats. As Louis sat down in the special place for the king, he looked down the long table and saw Fr. Thomas take his seat farther along. The meal began and everyone was soon lost in a conversation with his nearest neighbors. As Louis spoke with the nobles sitting beside him, he kept sending glances in Fr. Thomas’ direction. However, except for an occasional polite word spoken to the noble seated beside him, Fr. Thomas was sitting with his head lowered and a finger resting on his lower lip, completely lost in thought - and completely silent.

"Why will he not speak about God?" The good king wondered to himself. "I have heard that when he preaches, he is on fire with zeal. I suppose a banquet is no place for a sermon."

As the king sat, resigned to his disappointment, he suddenly noticed Fr. Thomas’ eyes focus intensely on the table before him. Confused, Louis also looked to where the priest was staring, but only saw the plate of food that Thomas had not touched. He looked again at the Dominican, who suddenly raised his head with a look of excited astonishment in his eyes, as if an idea had just dawned on him. Before Louis could think, the priest leapt to his feet and brought his fist down on the elegant banquet table.

"That ends the Manichean Heresy!" He shouted in his booming, Italian voice.

If Thomas Aquinas had dropped a bomb in the king’s great hall, he would not have attracted as much attention to himself as he did at that moment. Every conversation stopped, every head turned, and every eye strained to see who had caused the disturbance. The nobleman beside the priest indignantly ordered him to be silent. For his own part, Thomas was slightly embarrassed that his jubilation had carried him out of himself and disturbed King Louis’ banquet.

He had been pondering the errors of an ancient heresy, one that had deceived the great St. Augustine before his conversion. It was called the Manichean heresy and even though it had been nine hundred years since its first beginnings, it was still corrupting the hearts and souls of many. Determined to put a stop to its evils once and for all, Thomas had been going through its errors in his mind and creating arguments against them. At that moment during the banquet, he was suddenly inspired with the argument that would at last crush the evil heresy forever – and in his exultation, he forgot his surroundings.

Quietly sitting down again, Fr. Thomas gave a look of apology to King Louis. The rich nobles shook their heads and also looked at Louis, though their looks were of indignation at Thomas’ behavior in the king’s presence. Their king, however, quickly called for his scribe.

"Go to Fr. Thomas and write down the argument he has made." Louis said to him. "For I’m sure it must be good."

At a signal from the scribe, Thomas rose to his feet, bowed to King Louis, and left with the scribe to another room where they would not disturb others nor be disturbed themselves. After a few minutes, the awkwardness among the nobles gradually wore off, and conversation began to flow once more.

After the banquet was over and Fr. Thomas was about to leave, a messenger stopped him and informed him that King Louis was waiting in the royal chamber and wanted Fr. Thomas to go to him. The poor Dominican could reasonably have feared that it was because of his disturbance at the banquet.

He followed the messenger who lead him to the door of the chamber. When Thomas entered, the king of France turned and both men at first said nothing and merely looked at one another. Then, the smile Louis had been holding back at last appeared on his face. He had learned his lesson that night; it was the last time that Thomas would be invited to any of King Louis’ banquets. However, it was the first of many more times that Thomas would be invited to come to the king’s palace… for a personal visit. That night, in the king’s private quarters, a deep friendship took root between the two Saints. From then on, King Louis often asked Fr. Thomas to come and share his wisdom on a variety of different subjects - especially the one that they both loved best: God.