Seeking God with Saint John Henry Newman. Ryan J. Marr

of the world. That is why the world hates you” (Jn 15:18–19, NIV). Newman makes a similar point in his sermon “The Ventures of Faith,” in which he challenges his listeners to take risks that might cost them something for the kingdom of God. In Newman’s view, more of the Church’s members need to develop “a high and unearthly spirit,” such as the saints have.¹² “How is it,” he asks, “that we are so contented with things as they are — that we are so willing to be let alone, and to enjoy this life — that we make such excuses, if any one presses on us the necessity of something higher, the duty of bearing the Cross, if we would earn the Crown, of the Lord Jesus Christ?”¹³

      Newman’s description of those who want “to be let alone and to enjoy this life” really gets to the heart of the matter. This outlook, unfortunately, has broken out like a plague during several periods in Christian history. Consider, for instance, how many millions of baptized Christians lived in Germany when the Nazis rose to power, yet only a tiny minority spoke out against the heinous actions that were perpetrated by the Third Reich. And while it may be easy to disparage the apathy and silence of German Christians from that era, who knows for sure what sorts of things future generations might chastise us for failing to speak out against. In this light, if our lives are devoid of conflict or if we feel little or no tension over the predominant values of the broader culture, we may want to reevaluate the substance of our witness.

      With the above in mind, we could repurpose another maxim from Newman’s preaching: “True faith is not shown here below in peace, but rather in conflict.”¹⁴ Now, in saying this, Newman was talking about internal conflict, or the personal struggle against sin that each Christian must wage. But his sentiment could just as aptly be applied to our public witness. As long as we are in this world, our faith will be demonstrated through conflict. The members of Christ’s Body on earth are described as the Church Militant for good reason. Certainly, we ought to remember that “our battle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Eph 6:12, NIV, slightly altered). Battle we must, though, for peace gained at the expense of holiness, as Newman reminds us, is really no peace at all.

       The Prayerful Reader

      One final caveat: As you read this book, it’s essential that you be regularly engaged in the practice of prayer, if you are not so engaged already. In one of his sermons, Newman remarks that prayer is to the spiritual life what the beating of the heart is to the life of the body. Reading about holiness without consistently turning to God in prayer is like trying to travel somewhere in a vehicle that has no fuel in it. Spiritual reading, on its own, will get you nowhere. We must be persons of prayer!

      If you long for a deeper prayer life but are not sure where to begin, a great resource is Newman’s Meditations and Devotions, a collection of devotional reflections and prayers that were culled from his personal papers after he died.¹⁵ This thin volume packs a powerful punch and will help you to experience for yourself the very spiritual insights that we will be discussing from Newman’s sermons. As we begin this journey together, please know that I am praying for you, confident as well that Newman is praying for all of us who are still traveling “along the way.” In closing, then, I offer the following prayer by Newman as a benediction for the journey that lies ahead of us:

      But for us, let us glory in what [the children of this age] disown; let us beg of our Divine Lord to take to Him His great power, and manifest Himself more and more, and reign both in our hearts and in the world. Let us beg of Him to stand by us in trouble, and guide us on our dangerous way. May He, as of old, choose “the foolish things of the world to confound the wise, and the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty!” May He support us all the day long, till the shades lengthen, and the evening comes, and the busy world is hushed, and the fever of life is over, and our work is done! Then in His mercy may He give us safe lodging, and a holy rest, and peace at the last! [Amen.]¹⁶

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      Highlights from Newman’s Life

      When I visited the Birmingham Oratory for the first time, I was struck by, among other things, the littleness and simplicity of Saint John Henry Newman’s living quarters. Here, in a relatively obscure town — far away from the corridors of wealth and power — a slight, unassuming priest exercised an extraordinary influence on an untold number of lives, accomplishing most of what he did through work done in a single room of a modest priestly residence. In the case of Saint John Henry, the biblical adage rings powerfully true: God truly does use the weak things of this world to shame the strong (see 1 Cor 1:27).

      The witness of Newman turns on its head the way we commonly think about how the world works. Modern Westerners tend to view public life through the lens of coercive power. To have an impact on society, to make a name for oneself, to accomplish anything great, one must hold worldly influence and wield it ruthlessly. It is a dog-eat-dog world, we tell ourselves, and the vast majority of the human race can be moved only by the threat of punishment or the loss of privilege.

      Saint John Henry refused to approach life according to these terms. While others sought prestige, he chose the lowly path, and in his sermons he consistently counseled his listeners to practice humility and self-denial rather than to insist upon their rights and privileges. Ultimately, Newman recognized where true power resides. He took Christ at his word that, if we will have faith even as small as a mustard seed, we will be able to move mountains (see Mt 17:20). Through his preaching, his writing, and his spiritual counsel, Newman moved something more imposing than mountains: he moved hearts, thousands of them, and, in so doing, he left an indelible impact on the Catholic Church in England.

      In his time, Newman was an accomplished scholar, poet, educator, novelist, and philosopher. A thorough treatment of any one of these facets of his life could easily fill hundreds of pages. Our purpose in this book, however, is to zero in on Newman’s life of heroic virtue in order to glean insights that might aid our journey to God. We will walk the path that Newman trod and listen to his recounting of what that journey involved, so that we ourselves might grow in holiness — with the ultimate goal of attaining the union with God that Newman already knows in full. In this book, then, we will be seeking God with John Henry Newman. As numerous Catholics can attest, there are few more reliable guides on the path of life than this saintly convert and kindly priest, who continues to draw many hearts to God some 130 years after his death.

       The Life of Newman

      At the beatification ceremony for Blessed Dominic Barberi — the Italian Passionist priest who received Newman into the Catholic Church — Pope Paul VI took time in his address to touch briefly upon the enduring legacy of Newman. Specifically, the pope described Newman as one who, “guided solely by love of the truth and fidelity to Christ, traced an itinerary, the most toilsome, but also the greatest, the most meaningful, the most conclusive, that human thought ever travelled during the [nineteenth] century, indeed one might say during the modern era, to arrive at the fullness of wisdom and of peace.”¹⁷ Paul VI’s remarks memorably encapsulate the dramatic character of Newman’s arduous spiritual journey, which could succinctly be described as an unwavering search for the truth.

      When Newman was born, on February 21, 1801, no one could have predicted that this infant would eventually become the greatest English-speaking Roman Catholic theologian of his time. Newman was born to practicing, though not overly zealous, Anglican parents — John and Jemima Newman (neé Fourdrinier). For our purposes, it’s unnecessary to dwell at length upon the details of John Henry’s childhood, except to note that there was nothing noticeably unconventional about his upbringing. Newman’s religious formation was largely in the mode of “Bible Religion” — a term that he used later in his life to describe “the national religion of England.”¹⁸ This way of practicing the Faith revolved around devotional reading of the Bible, both in a communal setting in church and privately at home. Whatever limitations there may have