John Henry Newman (1801–1890)

This book belongs to that small subset of the memoir genre, spiritual autobiography. How does one make drama of one’s personal faith and change of allegiance? Although Newman writes at length in an orotund, full-blown Victorian style, the book held my interest in all but the driest passages.
The occasion for this book was a gratuitous attack on Newman by Charles Kingsley in an unrelated book review, followed by an unsatisfactory public exchange of letter and pamphlet. Newman felt the show more misrepresentation of what he believed severe enough to warrant this lengthy defense. However, he avers that his purpose is not to defend himself as much as the Roman church’s priesthood, membership, and teachings.
I write “Roman” church on purpose. Newman, with few exceptions, distinguishes in his book between the terms Catholic and Roman. “Catholic” means for him the universal church, of which Roman Catholicism was a part, as was the Eastern Orthodox tradition. He also long held the belief that the Anglican church (though not continental Protestants) was as well, though he abandoned this conviction.
One hundred and fifty years later, it seems to this reader that Kingsley came off the worse in this exchange. He is blind to the degree to which his anti-Roman bias causes him to misunderstand. Bon mots such as “While [Newman] tried to destroy others’ reason, he was at least fair enough to destroy his own” miss the mark. He doesn’t help his case by being so intemperate.
While he has the better of this controversy, Newman is also a problematic figure to me. His is a profoundly conservative, reticent nature. His turn to Rome came because he lost confidence that the Anglican church could successfully oppose what he calls Liberalism (aka, so Newman, “the spirit of Antichrist”). By this, he not only means the political program that went under that name in the nineteenth century but also developments in theology such as higher criticism. The inevitable result, Newman is convinced, is atheism, and Rome is the only bulwark against it. In his mind, he converted in the interest of Truth (written, as he did, with a capital T). From the perspective of a time when even conservative Bible scholars accept many of the results of higher criticism as true (small “t”), it seems tragic that such a fine mind should adopt, as Newman did, this bunker mentality. show less

Newman attempts to prove one can assent to truth of Christian doctrine without understanding it. But is that an adult, rational assent? A child may believe that Santa is real because Mom said so, but we do not regard that as an affirmation of the truth of Santa, only an affirmation of the child's trust in his parent. So is Newman basically confirming that his religion is based on the testimony of others whom he has chosen to trust? At what point do we say "Who has been to the North Pool and show more visited the workshop, petted the reindeer and seen the toys?" "Anyone?"
How is this different? show less

This volume collects 177 poems by John Henry Newman. It was initially published in his lifetime, in 1868, but has been reprinted many times. The Standard Ebooks edition, which I read, says it is taken from the 1903 edition. This apparently means the Longmans reprint of its 1896 edition. Still, I’m not sure this is true since it lacks two appendices with poems in Latin (one of which with an English translation) from that edition and contains helpful endnotes by an unnamed editor that show more don’t seem to be in the Longmans edition.
So much for issues that would only interest librarians and book collectors. What about the poems themselves? Well, for the most part, so-so, apart from the only long poem here, “The Dream of Gerontius,” which provided the text for Elgar’s oratorio of the same name. As for the rest, some are interesting, for instance, “Epiphany Eve,” which seems to conflate the virgin Mary and Newman’s deceased sister of the same name with some references to Eve thrown in for good measure.
Also to be found here is “The Pillar and the Cloud,” better known by its first line, “Lead, kindly light,” which has been set by many composers, most notably Arthur Sullivan, and became a beloved late Victorian hymn. And scattered throughout the collection are striking images. One of them is the snapdragon, a lowly flower that roots in masonry cracks, an eloquent symbol of the cloistered life, whether that of the scholar or of the celibate priest.
Oddly, some of the best texts are Newman’s translations of hymns for the office, taken from various breviaries.
I wondered if my judgment that much of the rest here is mediocre was too harsh, so I consulted Christopher Ricks’ generous (over six hundred pages) collection of Victorian poetry. Yet he found room for only one selection from Newman, an angelic chorus excerpted from “Gerontius.”
Gerard Manley Hopkins was famously ambivalent about the craft of poetry. He doubted whether he could serve the muse and his religious vocation and burned all he had written as he approached the priesthood. Ironically, this was the same year Newman’s collection appeared (it was Newman who had received him into the church of Rome). Why couldn’t Newman serve as a role model of one who could be religious and write poetry? Or was it the quality of much contained here that made Hopkins question whether the two vocations could mix? A subject for further study. show less

Summary: Shows that doctrine has undergone development and provides marks of genuine doctrines.

One of the questions raised by many who are not Catholics is why the church affirms many doctrines that have no explicit basis in scripture. These include beliefs about the Virgin Mary, papal supremacy, and purgatory. John Henry Cardinal Newman, in 1845, penned what may be the best explanation of how these doctrines are genuine developments of biblical truth.

“Development” is the key word in An show more Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine. He argues that while some of the doctrines of the Catholic Church don’t arise from explicit texts of scripture, they are nevertheless genuine developments from the scriptures. To make this argument, Newman devotes the first part of his “essay” to defending the idea that Christian doctrine has developed over time. Many things implicit in scripture were later brought out in the Councils and Papal teaching. And we need look no further than the doctrine of the Trinity or the doctrine of the Incarnation to see this is the case. But Newman holds this to be true of all the doctrines of the Catholic Church.

But how are we to distinguish the genuine from corruptions of doctrine? Newman offered seven “notes” or distinguishing marks:

1. Preservation of its Type. This refers to the persistence of a main idea even though its external expression may change. Newman contrasts the egg to a fully grown bird as an example. He supports this note through a study of the first six centuries of the church.

2. Continuity of Its Principles. As true doctrine develops, it never violates the basic principle of Christianity, of which Newman enumerates nine. Every heresy will violate at least one of these.

3. Its Assimilative Power. Growing things depend on assimilating nutrients for their life. Similarly true doctrine develops in part by assimilating external ideas such as Greek philosophy that help it define more clearly what the church believes.

4. Its Logical Sequence. In a genuine development of doctrine, a logical progression can be shown from biblical truth to the doctrine’s expression. For example, purgatory develops from the requirement of perfection to enter heaven. Yet many are friends of Christ who are not perfect and thus must undergo a purifying process before entering heaven.

5. Anticipation of its Future. Essentially, this note proposes that there are hints to future developments implied in the earliest statements. Newman shows this to be the case with the idea of relics, the Virgin Mary, and the cult of saints and angels.

6. Conservative Action on its Past. Genuine developments build on earlier ones, often bringing greater clarity. For example, the Nicene Creed clarifies and strengthens what is in the Apostles Creed. A corruption contradicts and weakens the earlier development.

7. Its Chronic Vigour. Genuine developments endure while heresies die off. One example Newman offers is Pelagianism, which denied original sin and argued for human pefectability apart from Christ’s redemptive grace.

One of the strength’s of Newman’s work is to show how doctrines develop over time and to legitimize that process. This is important because all of us believe things not explicitly stated in the Bible. Additionally, his extensive arguments from church history help substantiate his case. At the same time, it seems, as an outside observer, a good argument to legitimate what is. And I could see some from Eastern or Reformed traditions using some of the notes to argue against particular Catholic doctrines. It also essentially brands Eastern Orthodoxy and the churches of the Reformation as embracing corruptions at their points of difference. Although Newman doesn’t explicitly say this, it is a logical “development” from his argument.

Newman’s Victorian prose is never an easy read. In this case, his lengthy discussions of church history risk losing the forest for the trees. One must keep the main contours and particular “notes” of Newman’s argument before one.

To sum up, this is an important work, not merely for Catholics but for all Christians. We may know that Jesus loves us “because the Bible tells me so” but not all that any of us as Christians affirm comes directly from scripture without development. Newman also helps us, whether we agree or not, to understand the Catholic justification of doctrines with which others may disagree.

But it also shows why it will be difficult to reach a doctrinal rapprochement that encompasses Eastern, Protestant, and Catholic churches. That does not mean we cannot strive for mutual understanding and charitable relations. But to be of one mind in doctrine seems to me to be part of the beatific vision. “ For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known” (1 Corinthians 13:12, KJV). show less