St. John Henry Newman will be the newest Doctor of the Church later this year, and this is the second in a series of posts about him.  Read a brief biography here and about his most famous works here.  In this, I’d like to focus on a few particular qualities that led to his sanctity: his grounding in the Truth, willingness to fight for the Truth, and perseverance.

Today’s secular culture has invented the term ‘influencer’ to describe one who creates content online to promote products or services.  Information is shared so quickly that the modern mind might be tempted to look askance at newspapers and books—and to wonder what it was like to wait several days for a response to a letter.  That is, a letter written on paper, by hand, that comes in the mailbox.  The typewriter would not be invented until the late 1860s.  This was the world Newman lived in: letters, newspapers, and writing everything by hand.  If there was such a thing as an influencer in his day, Newman would have been one.  He was hugely influential, both through his published writings and his preaching.  Over the course of his eight years in the Oxford Movement, Newman’s influence was such that Englishmen started converting to Roman Catholicism. 

Pause on that a moment: the Roman Catholic Church, reviled in England for the previous three centuries.  Exaggerated, virulent, anti-Catholic propaganda was pushed out by the ruling class in England for generations before Newman was even born.  So many people reached out to Newman asking about converting to Roman Catholicism that he wrote Tract 90 in part to ward off conversions.  He naturally had his personal reasons, but it speaks to the amount of his influence that he felt Tract 90 to be necessary. (*note, for more background on Tract 90, see Part 1 of this series) 

From Whence Does My Help Come From?

I want to highlight one key factor in Newman’s influence, one that I’m not sure our modern age asks about our ‘influencers.’  Where did Newman’s influence come from?  Service to the Truth.  A life of prayer, fasting, and corporal works of mercy.  Firm adherence to the Christian faith, deeply rooted in the Scriptures and the writings of the Church Fathers.  

He allowed himself to be led wherever God took him, and he flourished there.  As an Anglican priest at Oxford, he fought for the truth by pulpit and pamphlet.  When he became Catholic, he was asked to do another year of studying to be ordained a priest—perhaps akin to asking Einstein to retake elementary physics.  Once the Birmingham Oratory was established, he busied himself about establishing the community and serving the people of the area.  For the latter, that meant he went about the duties of an ‘ordinary’ priest.  He went right into their lives to serve them.  Newman made sick calls, assisted the poor, and turned out to be of great help in finding people jobs.  He did this with such discretion that his Oratorian brothers only learned of it after his death.  

Enter the Arena

Combine all those sources of Newman’s influence with a key factor: his willingness to fight for the faith.  Theodore Roosevelt gave a famous speech at the Sorbonne (Paris) in 1910, some twenty years after John Henry Newman died.  I think the president’s words aptly apply to our new Doctor of the Church.  

“It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.”

The vigor and virility of this quote feel suited more to a Roman gladiatorial event, an army about to go into battle—maybe with the “Braveheart” soundtrack in the background.  An academically-gifted Englishman does not fit that stereotype, but Newman suited up in the army of the Lord with the gifts he had been given.   

Every good thing we have is a gift from God, and our gifts are diverse.  St. Paul instructs us in 1 Corinthians 12, Ephesians 4, and Romans 12 about the different gifts and charisms in the Body of Christ.  We can know this from lived experience, however.  Some have the gifts of teaching, leadership, and so on, but not every person has every gift.  (Imagine how proud we would be if that were true!)

The Body of Christ needs all the gifts, and Our Lord needs the members of His Body to use their gifts in their particular time and place.  We should not fret if we do not have the gifts of this saint, or the abilities of that person.  The call to holiness is universal, but very individual at the same time.  Newman wrote a beautiful mediation on the virtue of hope regarding this.  

“God has created all things for good; all things for their greatest good; everything for its own good.  What is the good of one is not the good of another; what makes one man happy would make another unhappy.  God has determined, unless I interfere with His plan, that I should reach that which will be my greatest happiness.  He looks on me individually, He calls me by my name, He knows what I can do, what I can best be, what is my greatest happiness, and He means to give it me.” (entry from March 6, 1848; make sure to read the entry from March 7 as well)

Perseverance 

Dealing with conflict does not come natural or easy to everyone.  The spiritual warrior fights on regardless.  While Newman had a heart intensely devoted to truth, his heart was also a sensitive one.   He dearly loved Oxford; the fallout over Tract 90 and his eventual conversion to Catholicism extended to his family, friendships, professional relationships, and career.  He did not return to Oxford for many years—32 to be exact.  Newman did not trumpet this or cry foul to gain attention.  The fact only appeared in a later edition of the Apologia, at the very end of the chapter, ‘History of My Religious Opinions from 1841-1845.’  In true melancholic fashion, he buried it in a footnote.  

One of the keys to perseverance is found in the opening paragraph of the last chapter of the Apologia (‘Position of My Mind Since 1845’).  Newman described the peace he felt in coming to rest in the fullness of Truth.  He stood on the shoulders of heroes like Athanasius, Leo the Great, and Ignatius of Antioch.  He assented to the doctrines of the Catholic faith—even the “hard ones”—with the peace of knowing that it was not up to him to figure all of them out.   

“I have never been able to see a connexion between apprehending those difficulties, however keenly… and on the other hand doubting the doctrines to which they are attached.  Ten thousand difficulties do not make one doubt, as I understand the subject; difficulty and doubt are incommensurate.” (pg. 214)

St. John Henry Newman has given us a lasting body of teaching that will endure for ages to come.  His personal witness, however, is what makes him more than a great teacher.  God used Newman’s roots in Truth, his willingness to stand up for the Truth, and perseverance to bring forth great fruit.