A Pilgrimage and Reflection: Honoring newly canonized St. John Henry Newman
by T. Derrick Witherington, PhD, STD, Director of Liturgical Life — Campus Ministry
On Wednesday, Oct. 30, Campus Ministry sponsored a mini Newman pilgrimage to attend a special event in honor of newly canonized John Henry Newman in Chicago. Several students and Campus Ministry staff made the pilgrimage, which included a private tour of Holy Name Cathedral, and a short prayer service at the cathedral. The group was able to enjoy several presenters. First, Melissa Villalobos spoke of her experience as the Chicago area woman who received physical healing as a result of Newman’s intercession, a grace which finalized Newman’s canonization. Next, Kenneth L. Woodward, former editor of Newsweek magazine’s religion section, life-long Catholic, and admirer of Newman bestowed his expertise. Finally, Professor Ian Kerr (University of Oxford), a world-renowned expert on Newman gave a talk discussing Newman’s life and path to sainthood. The group convened for dinner following the presentations. Here follows a reflection on Newman by Derrick Witherington, Director of Liturgical Life — Campus Ministry.
It was just on Sunday, October 13, 2019 that the Church declared John Henry Newman, the famous 19th Century theologian and Anglican convert, a saint. In what follows, I offer a short reflection wherein I briefly examine how one can see the whole arc and trajectory of Newman’s life as an inspiring example for what it means to live a thoughtfully discerned life.
Born into a middle-class family in 1801, Newman eventually found himself studying theology at the University of Oxford. He was ordained to the Anglican priesthood in 1824 and began working and ministering at Oxford as a fellow of Oriel College. During this time, he also became well-known as a talented preacher both at Oriel as well as the university church of St. Mary the Virgin. While at Oxford he became associated with a group of intellectuals who sought to re-emphasize the catholic (as opposed to reformed) elements within Anglicanism.
Newman quickly became known as one of the intellectual leaders of this group (later referred to as the “Oxford Movement”) and published many short tracts in which he thoroughly and meticulously outlined what he saw as the catholic essence of Anglicanism as opposed to a view which saw Anglicanism as being, essentially, another Protestant denomination. These efforts were met with much resistance within the Church of England, and finally came to a head in 1840 when he published a tract seen as directly undermining the foundations of Anglicanism as it was then widely understood. This event prompted a five-year period of intense discernment and inner turmoil which ultimately led to his reception into the Roman Catholic Church in 1845. A year later he was ordained as a Roman Catholic priest and in 1879 was named a cardinal. He died in 1890.
When one reads Newman’s writings, one is immediately struck, not only by their intellectual rigor, but also the fact that they witness to an intellectual and spiritual searching which marked the whole trajectory of Newman’s life. As opposed to a view which would see this searching (and subsequent discernment) as stopping when he entered the Roman Catholic Church, it should be noted that the resistance which Newman encountered as an Anglican followed him after his conversion. Newman’s theological approach (particularly his notions of the “development of doctrine” and his critical appraisal of the recently-defined teaching of papal infallibility) was met with widespread criticism within the English Roman Catholicism of his day, not the least coming from Henry Edward Manning — the archbishop of Westminster and primate of English Roman Catholics. This experience led to many fellow English Catholics being suspicious of Newman’s approach and genuineness in his conversion, which led to his feeling at times isolated in his newly chosen ecclesial home.
Yet, despite this feeling, he remained steadfast in his belief that God had and continued to guide him. An incredibly thoughtful person, Newman was personally convinced in his having become a Roman Catholic even when developments and personalities within the Church made him feel like an outsider. He lived his life as a tireless pursuer of truth — not in an abstract sense, but as something which he lived personally as his truth. Once he discerned and discovered his truth, nothing could deter him from it or make him doubt his decision. To use Ignatian terms, the consolation he felt in his choice outweighed the desolation, even when he lost many of his former friends by converting and then found himself face-to-face with resistance and misrepresentations in the Roman Catholic Church. The weight of these misfortunes could not, in the end, detract from the joy he felt in discerning what he felt to be the truth of his calling and identity.
At the core of Newman’s life was an unshakable trust in a loving God whom Newman believed was continually guiding him. It was this trust which gave Newman the strength to continue on the path of discipleship even when faced with misfortune. A text written about 13 years prior to Newman’s decision to enter the Roman Catholic Church best illustrates this. This poem, called The Pillar and the Cloud, was written when Newman was experiencing a time of great darkness. He had been vacationing in Italy and became so terribly ill that he had to return to England early. As the boat he was traveling on was near the island of Corsica, it was caught in a terrible storm and had to anchor there for three weeks until the storms had passed. During this period on Corsica he wrote the following lines which beautifully summarize Newman’s undying and irrevocable trust:
Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th’encircling gloom,
Lead Thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home,
Lead Thou me on!
Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me.
I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou
Shouldst lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path; but now
Lead Thou me on!
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years!
So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still
Will lead me on.
O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone,
And with the morn those angel faces smile,
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile!
