Academic & Churchman: Celebrating the Life of John Henry Newman
John Henry Newman was canonized as saint of the church by Pope Francis in October of 2013. That remarkable act – preceded by the beatification of Newman by Pope Benedict on 2010 – was unusual in this: a churchman and a scholar was declared a saint. Obviously there are others who in the history of the church held this dual vocation – not least of which was St. Augustine of Hippo, St, Ambrose of Milan and St. Thomas Aquinas. And yet, the full affirmation of this dual vocation – churchman and academic scholar – seems to be rarer in the 20th and 21st centuries. And thus it merits highlighting that one of great minds and leaders of the 19th century is affirmed as having a very distinct place in the life of the church universal. And as such perhaps he is a patron saint for others for whom this is their calling before God – that is, the dual calling to the church and to the academy.
I say this as one who is part of a religious subculture where it is assumed that you cannot hold these two in dynamic tension. Academic are head people; pastors as heart people. Academics care about ideas and doctrines and intellectual pursuits. Pastors and those who give pastoral leadership in the life of the church, are people people; they care, it is said, more about people than ideas, they are more attentive to the immediate spiritual well being of their congregation rather than esoteric doctrinal debates. But, John Henry Newman’s beatification is a reminder to us that this is a false polarity and that, indeed, we need those for whom there is a dynamic in their lives and in their work that gives continual evidence of the tension, perhaps, but the dynamic tension between the work of scholarship within the academy and the work of priestly and pastoral care within the parish. And while without doubt there will be scholars on the one hand and pastors on the other who do not have such a dual vocation, surely we can learn to appreciate one another and recognize that each is indispensable to the life and witness of the church.
As such, I wish here to profile three things about the life of John Henry Newman. Much more could be said, but for my purposes here, three things merit attention. First, and as a foundational or base line, Newman was a man of the church. While he lived out his whole professional life within academic institutions, the Church was his first love and commitment. He was a churchman first for the simple reason that these two are not the same or of the same genre or type: one is the body of Christ, the people of God and the temple of the Spirit; the other is a means to an end or various end, one such end being the flourishing of the church. The first and last word belongs to the church and for the Catholic Newman, this meant a deference to the ecclesial authority of the Pope. This does not mean he did not have his disagreements with Rome; I’ll get to that. He was not compliant or unthinkingly deferential. But there was no avoiding his theological and heart conviction in the vital place of the church in the purposes of God and with this the way in which authority functioned in the life of the church.
Second, John Henry Newman was an academic – as a theologian and poet, but also what catches my attention here is his appreciation of the importance and vital place of schools, colleges and university. This is perhaps most notable in the pivotal role he played in the founding of what is now University College Dublin, which has and continues to have a profound impact on the intellectual life of Ireland. And in connection with that founding he delivered and then published one of the great classics on the meaning and purpose of higher education: The Idea of a University Defined and Illustrated. Herein he demonstrates how indispensable the university to the life of the church and to society at large. And it is this that I think of when I speak of him as both a churchman and an academic.
And then third, the powerful impact and influence of Newman arises in part from the very dynamic or tension that emerges from this dual identity. He insisted and demonstrated that the church at its best is always learning – that is, that the church is not merely the guardian of the faith, but the articulator of the faith for each generation and that each generation receives but also builds on what it has received. Truth is not static by dynamic; there are new vistas, new perspectives, and that as often as not it is the academy that very specifically helps the church in this regard – pressing, challenging, urging and calling for this new learning.
In newly published biography of John Henry Newman, the author, Eamon Duffy, speaks to this dynamic in reflecting on the impact of Newman:
“Great ideas interact with changing times and cultures, retaining their distinctive thrust and direction, yet adapting so as to preserve and develop that energy in difference circumstances. Truth is a plant, evolving from a seed into a mature tree, not a baton passed inertly from hand to hand. Ideas must unfold in the historical process before we can appropriate all that they contain. Thus beliefs evolve and change, but they do so to preserve their essence in the flux of history; they change, that is, in order to remain the same.” (p. 12).
Thus within the context of the church and the faith. intellectuals both preserve the church’s faith and understanding, but also unsettle those who assume that the truth is only preserved if it remains fixed – or, as Duffey puts it, those who assume that truth “inertly passed from hand to hand.” Thus Duffy observes that John Henry Newman was in constant tension with authorities who assumed that those in authority – popes and cardinals – hold and defend the truth and that theologians have a simple job: to defend and articulate that “truth” for the faithful. Newman insisted that the church needed to be open to new ideas and new perspectives and that this should be encouraged by church authorities.
For many, this way of thinking is troubling and perhaps a little unsettling. Surely, some are inclined to think, the truth is given, once for all, and nothing can shake or alter or amend or revise the “truth.”
But, consider the following – as we try to make sense of what Newman stood for and called us to. First, of course, and foundationally: the truth is ancient and consistent; we do not affirm or believe in relativity. And yet, it is also dynamic and the dynamic element is two fold: first, the on-going witness of the Holy Spirit; and second, the character of the church as a learning community – with the Spirit as the teacher and guide, of course. It is not that the Spirit gave the truth once and for all – static and fixed – and now no longer is or needs to be present to the church. Rather the Spirit is fully active and dynamically present. As Jesus noted in John 16, he had much more to say to them, but it was more than they could bear and so he assured them that the Spirit would lead them into all understanding. But, this requires that the church be receptive and attentive to the Spirit who guides into further wisdom and understanding.
This being the case, what might be the sources of new learning and insight that the Spirit would call to our attention. I will identify three. First, there is the generational witness – as older Christians not only pass on wisdom to the next generation but where there is a genuine voice and witness from emerging Christian leaders. Teachers not only teach, but also learn – from their students. Older Christians can and must consider the ways in which a younger generation of Christian witness might inform and strengthen the faith of those who are older. One potential great gift of the Spirit to the church is inter-generational conversation.
Second, surely, we learn from Christians in other social, cultural, economic and geographic situations or contexts. The church brings the Gospel to Asia and then Asian Christians not only receive the witness that has come to them, say, from Europe, but then also take the ancient witness and not only make it their own but also then become a source of insight and learning for Christians in Europe. That is, some of the key learning of the church comes when the Gospel crosses these divides. But the key here as well, is that those who are the original voices in that witness not become learners: those who bring the Gospel – missionaries, teachers, apostles – have their understanding and wisdom grow and expand as a result of this encounter. Thus, for example the emerging strength of both Black and Indigenous theology in North America is not merely something that is of relevance to Black or Indigenous Christian communities. Thus the recent publication by Esau McCaulley – Reading While Black – is not merely a guide to hermeneutics for the Black Christian community but rather now an invaluable resource for all Christians. We can all come afresh to the Scriptures through the lens of this particular social-cultural perspective. And with the major shift of the church to the global south, this means that those preparing for ordained leadership in the church should be reading not merely European and North American scholars but voices from Africa, Asia and Latin America.
But then, finally, a key point we are making in these postings on Roman Catholics and Evangelicals in dialogue. One of the implications of all of this is surely something that arises out of the movement of receptive ecumenism wherein each Christian tradition is called to learn from one and to learn together. That is, that ecumenism can be a vital means by which we sustain a vibrant and living faith, encouraged by the learning that comes from our interaction and conversations with fellow Christians of other traditions – as a way of demonstrating this principle embodied by John Henry Newman: that truth is an evolving tree. Rather than remaining “fixed” in our particular doctrines, we are instead eager to learn from one another and with one another and we view this as precisely the on-going work of the Spirit in the life of the church. In this regard, I appreciate that for Newman the academic world both deferred to the church but also challenged the church. And thus I suggest that the academy, following Newman’s example, be a venue for engaging new perspectives – across generations, across social and cultural divides and from ecumenical points of engagement.
