John Henry Newman
21 February 2009
John Henry Newman was born 208 years’ ago today, on Feb 21st , 1801. As we gather in an institution dedicated to the memory of his close colleague in his Anglican days, Dr Pusey, it is worth reflecting on some of the lessons Newman can teach us as we consider the role of the church in Britain today and the place of the ordained ministry.
One of the features of Newman that I find attractive is that his independence makes him hard to categorise. After his conversion to the Catholic Church he had to overcome a good deal of suspicion. A conservative and basically anti-intellectual church leadership did not welcome talk of the ‘development of doctrine’. He went to study in Rome and had to wrestle with what he saw as a dull, rationalist scholasticism. His article ‘On consulting the laity in matters of faith’ was delated to Rome and this troubled him and cast a shadow over the rest of his life. He was no supporter of the temporal power of the papacy and regarded the proclamation of papal infallibility as ‘inopportune’. No wonder that when Leo XIII made him a Cardinal cynics commented that this only showed that no one in Rome had read any of his works.
Yet Newman was no liberal. He was always prepared to defend the Catholic Church against critics in his own country and argued that no one could accuse the church of undermining moral responsibility when it upheld the supremacy of conscience. He may have adopted a non-scholastic approach to theology but in ‘The Grammar of Assent’ he none the less mounted a strong defence for the truth of Christianity. In ‘The Development of Doctrine’ he tried to provide criteria by which to assess development and certainly would have rejected an ‘anything goes’ approach that sits lightly on scripture and tradition.
Vatican II was called Newman’s Council and there is no doubt that with his understanding of history, his appreciation of the role of the laity, his celebration of the rights of conscience, his belief in the separation of church and state, and his non-scholastic approach to theology, Newman did anticipate the Council. As Anglicans we can trace a good deal of his thinking to his Anglican roots, though to aspects of Anglicanism that have often gone unappreciated among Anglicans. A book about the council by an American theologian has the title ‘The Rhine flows into the Tiber’. I have often though another book could be written with the title ‘The Thames – or the Cherwell – flows into the Tiber’. In many ways Newman was prophetic. He did not fit into either the conservative or liberal mould in his time but he did point to a direction in which the church would later travel. He was guided, not by fashion or faction, but by the truth as he saw it. He would have seen himself as a conservative, committed to old truths, but open to new questions. One of his favourite sayings was ‘everything in its time’ and, of course, he famously remarked that ‘to live is to change and to be perfect is to have changed often’. I think he would have approved of the present Pope’s attempt to distinguish between a ‘hermeneutic of rupture’ and a ‘hermeneutic of reform’ in speaking of Vatican II. The Council did not change essential principles, only the way they were expressed and applied.
I am among those who hope and pray for Newman’s canonisation, believing he is someone who can help Catholics and Anglicans draw closer. But if or when he becomes a saint, we must not forget the point Fr Rod Strange makes in his excellent short study of Newman: we come to holiness through growth and crisis. Even saints are sinners and there is no doubt Newman had his weaknesses. He was probably too sensitive. Becoming a Catholic was not easy; it represented the ‘parting of friends’; as Fr Strange points out, it is moving to read Keble’s letter apologising for a silence of 17 years. As a Catholic, Newman faced not only suspicion but the frustration of some of his dearest plans. The University of Dublin, the translation of the bible, hopes for an Oratory in Oxford, arguments over a magazine called The Rambler - the list of failures is quite long. He poured out his frustrations in his journal:
“O how forlorn and dreary has been my course since I became a Catholic! Since I made the great sacrifice to which God called me. He has rewarded me in a thousand ways, O how many! But he has marked my course with almost unintermittent mortification...since I have been a Catholic I seem to have been nothing but a failure, personally.”
I find these words comforting. We all go through crises and we can draw strength from the knowledge that others, even great thinkers and teachers like Newman, passed through the same experience. Fr Strange comments that Newman knew the defeat which lies at the heart of crucifixion. The danger is responding to such a situation is self-pity. “If, like Christ, we can retain our trust in God and remain generous, open hearted and loving at such a time, then we can move forward to find new life”.
The Rt Revd Paul Richardson Assistant Bishop of Newcastle