The Recusant: Is John Henry Newman a Saint? Is He a Doctor of the Church?
#1
The following is taken from pages 30-42 of this issue of The Recusant [slightly adapted and reformatted]:


Is John Henry Newman a Saint?
Is He a Doctor of the Church?


The short answer is, no. There is enough to be wary of with Newman, enough to at least give any sensible Catholic pause for thought and in any case, Novus Ordo conciliar canonisations aren’t worth the paper they’re written on. These modern canonisations are proposed to us by men who don’t believe in real Saints, just as the miracles which confirm them are not real miracles and are proposed to us by men who don’t believe in real miracles. John Henry Newman is as much a Saint as Paul VI or John Paul II. The first part of this article will deal with the question of real Saints and conciliar “Saints”; the second part with Newman himself.


Part 1: When is a Saint not a Saint?

Remember that [the] Novus Ordo calendar removed many genuine Saints as though they no longer existed and were therefore no longer to be venerated. Take, for instance, the Fourteen Holy Helpers: few modern Catholics have even heard of them today, although they were venerated for centuries and were the object of widespread popular devotion across Christendom. Their feast was removed from the calendar and some of them lost individual feast days too and became in effect “un-canonised,” including some very popular Saints. That did not stop modernist Rome casting doubt on whether they had ever even existed to begin with, declaring that the stories about them were mere fables, not really worthy of belief in other words. Here, for instance, is what Paul VI’s Rome had to say concerning St. Barbara:
Quote:Memoria S. Barbarae, Saeculo XII in Calendario romano ascripta, deletur: acta S. Barbarae sunt omnino fabulosa et etiam de loco ubi passa sit summa inter peritos est dissentio.
[“The feast of St. Barbara, added to the Roman Calendar in the Twelfth Century, is to be removed. The life of St. Barbara is totally legendary and even the place of her martyrdom is not agreed-upon by experts.”] (Calendarium Romanum, 1969, p.147).

And similarly, concerning St. Catherine of Alexandria:
Quote:Memoria S. Catharinae, saeculo XII in Calendario romano ascripta, deletur: non solum Passio S. Catharinae est omnino fabulosa, sed de ipsa persona Catharinae nihil certum affirmari potest.”
[“The feast of St. Catherine, added to the Roman Calendar in the Twelfth Century, is to be removed. Not only is the martyrdom of St. Catherine entirely legendary, but nothing certain can be asserted about the person of Catherine herself.”] (Ibid.)

By the way, it is difficult to appreciate what is conveyed by those words “omnino fabulosa” which keep cropping up. A total fable. A complete fairytale. Not in any way true, in other words, not just an exaggeration, but a total, utter fabrication. And it is not just St. Catherine of Alexandria and St. Barbara who are treated his way: St. Christopher is another example of a very popular Saint who was nonetheless removed completely from the calendar, as well as St. Dorothy, St. Pius I, and many more besides. Others, such as St. George and St. Valentine, were demoted to a commemoration in certain local places only, which had much the same effect as removing them altogether. In the motu proprio presenting his new calendar (Mysterii Paschalis, 1969), Paul VI cites - you’ve guessed it! - Vatican II as his justification, quoting the following passage from Sacrosanctum Concilium, §111:
Quote:“Lest the feasts of the saints should take precedence over the feasts which commemorate the very mysteries of salvation, many of them should be left to be celebrated by a particular Church or nation or family of religious; only those should be extended to the universal Church which commemorate saints who are truly of universal importance.”

Even the secular media has picked up on this from time to time. Here, for instance, is a 2014 article from ABC News:
Quote:“The Catholic Church removed 93 saints from the universal calendar and revoked their feast days in 1969 when Pope Paul VI revised the canon of saints and determined that some of the names had only ever been alive as legends or not enough was known about them to determine their status. […] Among Catholicism’s most popular saints, Christopher was listed as a martyr. […] But there wasn’t enough historical evidence the man ever existed, so Pope Paul VI dropped him.” (‘Once a Saint, Always a Saint? Kind Of - Unless You're Demoted’ - here)

Another remarkable victim of the modernists is St. Philomena. One of the most popular Saints of the last two centuries, the Curé of Ars, St. John Vianney, had a particularly strong devotion to her. She was not only removed from the calendar, but modern Rome since then has cast doubt on whether she even existed at all to being with! And yet, like St. Christopher, St. Barbara and the others she still has her own following and devotion to her is still alive and well today, despite her attempted assassination and un-canonisation by modernist unbelievers. One of the important proofs of Sainthood is a cultus, a following, and an enduring
one.

John Paul II had plenty of flatterers and sycophants while he was still alive, and he died adored and praised by the world. Not a good sign! Tony Blair and Bill Clinton were among those who attended his requiem. Hence there was no shortage of people who wanted him declared a Saint immediately (“Santo Subito!” - remember?). But a mere twenty years on, how often does one hear his name mentioned? Outside of Polish Novus Ordo Catholic parishes, is he not all-but forgotten already? And who has ever had a devotion to Paul VI or John XXIII..!? The very idea is absurd! Those men never had a cultus and never will! And yet we are asked to believe that they are Saints, by the very same modernists who tell us that St. Christopher, St. Catherine, St Philomena and others not only aren’t Saints, but weren’t even real people…? Does that sound reasonable to you? The men who openly admit that they don’t believe in real Saints are nonetheless going to tell us who is to be regarded as a Saint from now on! And whom do they propose for our veneration? Men such as John XXIII, Paul VI, John Paul II…! No thanks. You can keep your bogus, conciliar “Saints” - I’ll stick with the real ones, the ones which generations of our forefathers venerated for hundreds of years, thank you very much!

Regarding the details of the removal of Saints from the calendar and general “de-canonisation” which went on in the 1960s (some of which was already happening on the eve of Vatican II in the Tridentine calendar!) a great deal more could be said, but we shall not spend too long on it since it was not really meant to be the focus of this article, fascinating and horrifying though it is.

Suffice it to say that the usual suspects are not very hard to find. An article from late 2020 by one Peter Kwasniewski which appeared on the website of the conservative / novus “New Liturgical Movement” provides some interesting and useful insight on this question and is perhaps worth quoting from here briefly. Among other things, the article identifies more than 300 Saints who were removed or demoted and provides tables showing which changes were made on which days of the year. And just see how long it takes before you spot the name which you knew all along was going to pop up!

Quote:“That the thinning out of the sanctoral cycle had long been on Bugnini’s mind is evident from his 1949 article in Ephemerides Liturgicae, “Per una riforma liturgica generale” (“Towards a General Liturgical Reform”). Bugnini pressed the need for “a reduction of the Sanctoral . . . which requires not only a reduction of the present calendar, but also fixed and prescriptive norms to prevent new Saints’ days from piling up again.”

Yves Chiron summarizes:
Quote:‘A list of thirteen saints or groups of saints was already drawn up for elimination from the universal calendar, with no justification for any of them (Saint Martin for example), whereas the calendar was supposed to abbinare (“pair together”) fourteen more Saints “because their life and work were alike or close to it,” for example Saint Thomas Becket and Saint Stanislaus or Saint Peter Canisius and Saint Robert Bellarmine.’ (Annibale Bugnini: Reformer of the Liturgy, p.34)”
(https://www.newliturgicalmovement.org/20...moval.html)

By the way, next time you visit continental Europe keep an eye out for St. Martin: you see his name everywhere. France is covered with hundreds, if not thousands of churches, chapels and shrines to him and there are dozens of villages and towns named after him in Southern Germany and Austria. In that part of the world at least, it is hard to imagine a Saint who is more deeply embedded within Catholic culture! But then, this is the infamous Fr. Annibale Bugnini and his friends whom we are talking about, so it probably shouldn’t surprise us that much…

The same article quotes the memoires of the well-known “liturgical reformer” Fr. Louis Bouyer, who was nonetheless horrified to see just how far some on his own side were taking things (also found in the excellent article by Dr Carol Byrne, here):
Quote:“I prefer to say nothing, or little, about the new calendar, the handiwork of a trio of maniacs who suppressed, with no good reason, Septuagesima and the Octave of Pentecost and who scattered three quarters of the Saints higgledypiggledy, all based on notions of their own devising! Because these three hotheads obstinately refused to change anything in their work and because the pope wanted to finish up quickly to avoid letting the chaos get out of hand, their project, however insane, was accepted!” (Ibid.)


What is Canonisation?

Behind all this, underlying the question, is something which it is difficult to put one’s finger on, an attitude which itself is wrong. There is more than a whiff of the “because I say so” type of argument which reeks of voluntarism and nominalism. Let us remind ourselves: it is the Saint that makes the canonisation, not the canonisation which makes the Saint. Let that sink in for just a moment. Is a Saint a Saint because Rome says he’s a Saint? Or does Rome say he’s a Saint because he is one? Which comes first, the reality, or the word, the pronouncement, the description of the reality? In previous centuries canonisation was simply a matter of popular acclamation; then it was done more formally, at a diocesan level by the local bishop; in the middle ages it became something reserved to the Holy See.

Over time, the requirements understandably became stricter. The process which emerged in the modern era was something resembling a court case. The soul in question had to be proven a Saint beyond all doubt and was regarded almost as though guilty until proven innocent: not a Saint until proven a Saint. The prosecution, so to speak, was the famous advocatus diaboli. But that was not all. Several other criteria had to be met which were regarded as sine qua non, the first of which was a popular cultus among the faithful; another was some miracles. These things, if they exist, are facts. The canonisation itself was nothing more than a formal recognition of those already-existing facts.

Therefore, the real Saints are the ones who have a real following, who have worked real miracles, whom Divine Providence allows to become known and prayed-to all over the world and to become a central part of Catholic life and culture. The old, recently-removed Saints, in whom modern Rome appears no longer to believe, all pass the test with flying colours. Despite the machinations of the modernists, Catholics all over the world still give their children names such as Catherine, Philomena or Christopher; many people still pray to them, still wear their sacramentals and ask them for aid. Schools and parishes all over the world still bear their names, some of the finest artwork ever created depicts their lives and deaths and in some cases even whole nations, states or cities are under their patronage or have been named after them.

And there is no shortage of modern-day miracles either: as mentioned above, the Curé of Ars alone procured many miracles through the intercession of St. Philomena. More than eleven years ago, these pages (“On Recent Canonisations” - Recusant 16, May 2014) cast doubt on the supposed canonisations of the late popes John XXIII and John Paul II.

It was pointed out that the lives of these men were very far from being that of a Saint and that they were each a very bad example to follow. It was further pointed out that several ominous “coincidences” (if such they be) had accompanied the “canonisation” of John Paul II. The ugly bent-forwards crucifix which stood atop a hill as a memorial of his visit had suddenly collapsed, killing a man who was praying to him beneath it; that when his relics visited Lourdes, the sanctuary was soon underwater following the worst flooding in its history.

The same article suggested good reasons why one cannot simply say, “Canonisations are infallible!” and leave it at that - far from it. The object of infallibility is doctrine, that is, things to be believed by us, and necessary for our salvation. A canonisation on the other hand, is not a matter of doctrine necessary for our salvation: it is a saying that someone is a Saint, which means not only that the person in question is in heaven, but that he or she is an example which you or I can follow and learn from as a means of achieving heaven ourselves. That is why not one single baptised infant has ever been canonised, despite there being presumably tens– or even hundreds-of-thousands of candidates (newly baptised babies die all the time, there is even one in our family). They are certainly in heaven, you can pray to them, but they are never canonised, no statues of them will ever be seen in churches, no feast days in the calendar. Why? Because there is no life to follow: they died too young to give an example for anyone to follow. That is also why it is such a scandal for even the conciliar church to claim that Paul VI or John Paul II are Saints.

If that were true, then we can get to heaven is by kissing the koran, inviting pagans and devilworshippers into a Catholic church to pray to their false gods, putting statues of Buddha on top of tabernacles; punishing good men such as Marcel Lefebvre while simultaneously promoting sexual predators like Marcial Maciel or MarieDominique Philippe; suppressing the true Mass which nourished countless true Saints, and giving everyone a Masonic, Protestant communion service with a Jewish offertory prayer… we could go on. The very thought is monstrous.

So on the question of a cultus, a genuine following and devotion among the faithful, the real, old-fashioned Saints win hands down, despite the disadvantage of their having been removed from calendars, their demotion and all the rest. The conciliar Vatican II “Saints” usually have little or no cultus, despite the fact that it always used to be regarded as a sine qua non, an essential prerequisite to becoming a Saint.

Likewise, on the question of leading a life of heroic virtue, a life which is such a good example that if followed by you and I it will lead us to heaven too, we see the same thing. Many of these the conciliar “Saints” (the conciliar Popes, Faustina, Escriva, et al.) fail spectacularly. Their lives were such that they would never, could never have been canonised before Vatican II. The real Saints, by contrast, led such exemplary lives that many today find it hard to believe and doubt is cast not only on their lives and deaths, but even on their very existence.

The soundness of their teaching is something which will no doubt be at the forefront of the minds of many readers, and so it should be. Unsound teaching, let alone actual heresy, is something which in saner times meant that an investigation into the candidate’s life could not go ahead, never mind the beatification or canonisation itself, as the John Vennari article makes clear elsewhere in these pages. Strictly speaking, the false teaching of these bogus “Saints” is itself enough to say with certainty that they are not Saints. But since many of our acquaintance will not accept that, and since many of us will at some point experience doubt or scruples, let us continue to spell it out in detail. Miracles are the last thing to consider.

A real canonisation in the old days used to require two miracles, after all the other criteria had been met. Two genuine miracles. The new, bogus “canonisations” require only one, and often it is a “miracle” of highly dubious quality. Again, refer to the John Vennari article elsewhere in these pages to see details of the “miracle” used for Mother Theresa: it was as dodgy as a nine-bob note, the doctors involved and even the lady’s husband said it wasn’t a miracle!

In previous years, these pages have contained a close-up look into other conciliar “miracles”- long-time readers might recall our examination of the Buenos Aires “eucharistic miracle” from the 1990s (in Recusant 34, p.26) and that it most certainly did not stand up to close scrutiny! We have neither the time, nor the resources, nor even the patience to examine each and every so-called “miracle” approved by the conciliar authorities, but should it be necessary? How many definitely bogus “miracles” do we need to see until we decide to treat them all with extreme caution? Finally let us consider this. The men approving these “miracles” don’t believe in actual real miracles, even when they are contained in Sacred Scripture! The feeding of the five-thousand? No, you see, what the gospel-writer wished to emphasise in telling this story was that the real miracle was when everyone learned to share. The crossing of the Red Sea? No, you see it was really called the “Reed Sea” because it was like a marsh… Those are things I have heard from conciliar priests with my own ears (as have many of you too, no doubt). We could go on. The point to bear in mind here is this. Just as we are being asked to accept new “Saints” from men who don’t believe in real Saints, we also are being asked to believe in bogus “miracles” by men who cast doubt on real miracles.

In case all of that is all a bit much to remember, below is a handy table for ease of reference! It is of course worth remembering that the other scandal regarding conciliar “canonisations” is the sheer number. John Paul II earned a reputation as a veritable “Saint factory,” canonising hundreds in one go. His successors are no better. Not only does this practice severely damage the prestige and credibility of the Church in the eyes of Catholics and non-Catholics alike, it also defeats the very point of a canonisation: how can you possibly have a devotion to these new “Saints” when it would take forever just to read their names, never mind learn a bit about
them? The whole point of Saints is that they are held out to us as an example to follow; you can’t hold out a couple of hundred examples in one go and expect to be taken seriously.

The Recusant patent “How-Bogus-Is-My-Saint?” Calculator

[Image: Capture2.png]

But beyond that, it has yet another unfortunate side-effect, in that it means that many genuine Saints may well be mixed in with the conciliar “Saints.” The first canonisation done by Pope Francis, for instance, was of more than 800 people in one go. They were the inhabitants of Otranto who were killed by the Turks in 1480 for refusing to convert to Islam: martyrs. At a cursory glance, it may well be that some or all of them really are martyrs, and therefore Saints.

But can we be certain? And which ones? Does anyone have the time or patience to try to find out? To take one more example, in 2001 John Paul II canonised a group of 233 martyrs of the Spanish Civil War. Again, there were many Catholics who died for the Faith at the hands of the communists at that time, so it is not inconceivable that at least some of them, many of them even, are genuine Saints and martyrs. But again, doesn’t it just leave one frustrated and demoralised? How certain can anyone be that there wasn’t the odd semi-degenerate “rightwinger” whom the reds rounded up with a load of Catholics into the same firing-squad and buried in the same pit? So the answer is it is probably a mixture, but very difficult to say.

And then there are men such as Padre Pio. Well, they couldn’t very well not canonise him, could they? They know full well that his presence in amongst all those other conciliar “Saints” will lend them credibility. And what about the Forty Martyrs of England and Wales? Well, they were of course martyrs at the hands of the English Protestant regime, they were beatified in 1929 and most of the work for their canonisations was surely done before the Council, so despite the fact that the actual canonisation wasn’t done until 1970, surely one can take them as being genuine Saints who were always going to be canonised, even had Vatican II and the crisis in the Church never happened.

We could go on, but all this really means is that the conciliar “Saints” are a bit of a mixed bag, to put it mildly. Some unmistakably genuine Saints have probably been given a conciliar “canonisation” (what an insult to them - they’ll need to be given a real canonisation when the crisis is over!). Then there are others who may well have been Saints. Then there are a lot of highly dubious “Saints” and finally there are those who are definitely not Saints. So a conciliar canonisation doesn’t necessarily mean that the person is a Saint. But it doesn’t necessarily mean that he isn’t a Saint either. What a mess.


Where does Newman fit into all this?

All of which is by way of demonstrating that just because the conciliar church says that Newman is a Saint, that doesn’t really mean anything. It means is that he is somewhere on the spectrum of conciliar Saints, somewhere between Padre Pio at one end and Paul VI at the other. Newman may not be a Paul VI, but he may not necessarily be a Padre Pio either. So what are we to make of him? It doesn’t help that he has long been someone whom all sides seem to be trying to claim. The liberals and modernists claim that he is one of them. The “conservatives” of various sorts say that the liberals are twisting things and that really, Newman is on their side. Readers of a certain age who made their way out of the Novus Ordo to Tradition may well be reminded of similar debates which used to surround John Paul II and Benedict XVI while they were alive and on the papal throne. In the 1980s, 90s and early-2000s, John Paul II’s encyclicals would have the more orthodox soundbites quoted by people who were still trying to remain faithful inside the Novus Ordo (a shrinking constituency which has now all-but disappeared in this country); whereas out-and-out modernists and politically correct semiMarxists could quote other passages from the very same encyclical. Many conservative Novus Ordo people became Traditionalists after realising that the liberals and modernists actually had a point: John Paul II really was a modernist and a liberal, and not the conservative they had always thought him to be. Well, is it possible that something similar is going on with John Henry Newman? With that in mind, let us briefly look at some of the criteria mentioned above.

1. An Exemplary Life of Heroic Virtue

Compared to many of the worst conciliar “Saints” Newman comes out looking pretty good here. He certainly didn’t have the love of luxury, or outbursts of bad temper of a Josemaria Escriva, for instance. But then, he was a Victorian, who lived (1801-1890) a good three generations before the latter, so that is as one might expect: people back then knew far better how to behave. Nor does one find in his writing the shameless self-praise of a “Saint” Faustina, whose fake apparition made her sound more exulted than even the Blessed Virgin Mary. That is as it should be, too; but then, we are setting the bar rather low, aren’t we?

One thing which does need mentioning here is the accusations of some kind of latent homosexuality. A not very flattering picture of him was painted by Geoffrey Faber, the nephew of Newman’s colleague Fr. Frederick Faber. Since then, all sorts of “gay rights” people (Peter Tatchell, for instance) have tried to claim Newman as one of their own. Critics point to his friendship with Fr. Ambrose St. John, one of his disciples who together with him left the Anglican religion, entered the Catholic Church and became an Oratorian priest. They often point to the fact that Newman asked to be buried in his friend’s grave. His defenders say that it was a passionate friendship and nothing more. Well, it is true that there can be such a thing as a passionate friendship and it is also true that we shouldn’t always go to the lowest common denominator and assume something sexual which might have been nothing of the sort. The Victorian era, an age not that long past and yet unimaginably more innocent than our own, understood this far better than we do today: only a degenerate age such as our own will automatically equate love with lust. And it is true that the endorsement of “gay rights” activists such as Tatchell means very little. And Geoffrey Faber, by the way, was a non-Catholic who seems to have been a disciple of Sigmund Freud; furthermore, one of the things he seems to have a problem with, in common with many Anglicans of Newman’s day (Charles Kinglsley, for instance), is the very idea itself of clerical celibacy. So we can probably take what he says with a pinch of salt.

All of which is to say that Newman is almost certainly not guilty of this particular charge, but in passing we should perhaps add that it would have been nice to known for certain, and that had there been a proper, thorough investigation of his life and morals, with a Devil’s Advocate and all the rest, greater certainty might have been possible. As things stand, however, since the modern Vatican changed the entire process, the matter won’t have been looked-into as it once would have been, effectively robbing the man himself of a proper defence.

Other than that, the main points of Newman’s life seem to be what one would expect. He sacrificed his position in the establishment of his day, and undoubtedly lost friends and family connections when he converted. This is what one would expect and is what happened to all English converts in those days, but it is still something which counts in his favour. There are others who point to the fact that he had already got himself into trouble within the (so-called) Church of England due to his position within the Oxford Movement and Tract 90 in particular, and that therefore he didn’t give up as much as, say, Henry (later Cardinal) Manning who had been at the height of his popularity when he left the Anglican religion and became a Catholic. There is doubtless some truth in that, too.

Finally, it is perhaps worth mentioning that for the life of a Saint, although one expects to find controversy, one does not expect to find quite so much and with all the wrong people. It has been said of Newman that during the latter (Catholic) part of his life, his friends and admirers were all liberals and his enemies anti-liberals. There is some truth to that. And having read some of his correspondence with Fr. Faber (more about whom later), the tone and content of many of his letters is not edifying and betrays a petulance bordering on selfpity which somehow one cannot imagine witnessing from the pen of a genuine Saint. That is, however, only my opinion - the reader may take it or leave it as he wishes.


2. A Popular [u]Cultus[/u]

Even Newman’s promoters have admitted that it is alarming how little devotion to him there is or has ever been in his own country. I have heard it said that he has more of a following in the USA, which is interesting: perhaps a case of a prophet never being accepted in his own home? But it still ought to be a concern to anyone interested, and ought to have been of great interest and great concern to anyone involved in his cause for canonisation. It is not merely that he didn’t have much of a following in England: he had none at all! Nobody was praying to him, nobody had a devotion to him. In this aspect at least, he appears to be more in the Paul VI camp and all the other definitely bogus conciliar “Saints”. And since, as mentioned above, this one really is (or used to be and ought still to be) the first pre-requisite, that ought to concern us all the more. (Perhaps we ought to have made this number 1, instead of 2..?)

What popularity or respect Newman does have today, as in his own day, seems to some degree to arise from the prestige which he brought with him into the Church. Imagine: at a time when Catholics were still a vanishingly small minority in England (maybe two percent, and most of those were Irish immigrant labourers, unskilled and largely un-educated, who had come over for work), and before the steady flow of converts which would follow his own conversion, he was one of the first “big catches” for a Catholic Church which was only just being re-established in England. One can understand and sympathise with an English Catholic in those days who might be pleased and proud of such a well-known, high-profile academic leaving it all behind to enter the Catholic Church. But that doesn’t really help us. In the late-19th and early 20th Centuries, there was no suggestion that Newman had been a Saint and no devotion to him anywhere, from what we can see. What very little exists in recent years appears to have been drummed up by conciliar liberals in the wake of Vatican II.

In summary then: in the old days, before the Vatican II revolution, the lack of a cultus would have meant that Newman would not even have been considered for beatification or canonisation in the first place. And in the days before Vatican II, he had no cultus at all. Therefore, he ought never to have been considered to begin with and on these grounds alone there is good cause to doubt whether he is a real Saint, even if he is a conciliar “Saint.”


3. Genuine Miracles

Oh dear. Have you ever noticed how all the bogus conciliar “Saints” always seem to work medical “miracles”? Both miracles allegedly worked by Paul VI, for instance, involved an unborn child: the doctors predicted it would have a defect but in the end it was born healthy.

Anyone with any experience of these things will tell you that doctors continually make dire predictions about unborn babies which turn out not to be true, especially when they are using it to push the mother into getting an abortion (as was the case here). I have even known it within my own immediate family circle, as I am sure many of you will have too. That the baby is then born perfectly fine and healthy does not in any way mean that a miracle has taken place: it means you can’t trust modern doctors! In a similar vein there is the medical “miracle” allegedly worked by Mother Theresa, details of which are given in the John Vennari article found elsewhere in these pages.

Regrettably, Newman’s “miracles” do appear to be of a similar kind: more of these medical miracles which seem to take place whenever a conciliar “Saint” is made. His beatification miracle was curing a Novus Ordo married deacon of a spinal condition. But details of this supposed “miracle” are surprisingly hard to find in both Catholic and secular press and even the official Oratorian website (https://www.newmancanonisation.com/newmans-miracle) which gives a detailed account of his canonisation “miracle” is silent regarding the prior “miracle” used to beatify him. Why might that be? Well, our suspicions, it seems, are wellfounded and we can be grateful to SSPX priest Fr. Paul Kimball for including them in the introduction to his 2019 book on Newman:
Quote:“On July 3, 2009, Pope Benedict XVI recognised the healing of Deacon Jack Sullivan in 2001 as a miracle for Newman’s beatification, which occurred on September 19, 2010. Now, Mr. Sullivan underwent the operation of ‘...a laminectomy to remove part of the spinal bones that was causing the problem… Although successfully performed in August 2001, this operation left Jack Sullivan in immense pain and he was warned a full recovery might take months. With the new term approaching, Mr. Sullivan was becoming increasingly anxious about returning to class, and just a few days after his operation he tried to get out of bed. Having taken an excruciating few minutes, with a nurse’s help, to get his feet on the floor, he said he leant on his forearms and recited his prayer to Newman. Michael Powell, a consultant neurosurgeon at London’s University College Hospital, said a typical laminectomy took ‘about 40 minutes, and most patients … walk out happy at two days.’ ’ ” (Michael Hirst, Papal Visit: Cardinal Newman’s ‘miracle cure,’ BBC News, September 13, 2010)

Furthermore, the directive de Canonizatione of Prospero Cardinal Lambertini, who was later crowned Benedict XIV, spelt out the rules for working out if a healing was really a miracle from heaven. It is astounding that this miracle has been approved, for it directly violates the third rule of Benedict XIV for the verification of miracles during the process of canonization of Saints, namely, ‘The patient should not be getting medical treatment around the time of the cure.’ (Doctrina de servorum Dei beatificatione et beatorum canonizatione, lib. 4, p.1, c.7, n.1-2.).”
(Cardinal Newman: Trojan Horse in the Church, Fr. Paul Kimball)

This alone was used by the enemies of the Church to pour scorn and ridicule. John Cornwell, author of “Hitler’s Pope,” wrote an article for The Times spelling out in great detail how this miracle did not abide by the Vatican’s own rules and making it look totally ridiculous. Though far too long to quote here, it is well worth a read and we encourage the reader to take a look. The author is a well-known antiCatholic but the worst thing is, he isn’t being dishonest and has clearly done his homework. As to Michael Powell, the London consultant neurosurgeon mentioned above, in 2010 he appeared in a brief segment during a BBC documentary. About 7 minutes in, he can be seen telling Ann Widdecombe:
Quote:“The events that occurred in Jack Sullivan’s case are all explicable, perhaps not so frequently that it would be commonplace, but certainly all of them perfectly reasonable. … To us British neurosurgeons, these are events that don’t at all sound [so] surprising or un-commonplace that it should be considered miraculous.”

Newman’s canonisation miracle appears to be not much better and, like that of Paul VI, it involves a pregnant lady and her unborn child. In this case the mother suffered bleeding during the pregnancy. She stopped bleeding after she prayed to him, and although the doctors said there was a chance that the baby would be born premature, in the end it was born at the right time and was healthy. As Fr. Kimball points out, this too violates the old rules for canonisation miracles, namely the sixth rule, that: “The cure must not come at a time when some natural cause could make the patient think he is cured or which stimulates a cure.”

There is also the fact that at least one of the doctors who lent his name to this “miracle” is a Novus Ordo Catholic who gave a gushing interview to the Novus Ordo press in which he described his deposition in favour of the miracle as a “spiritual experience”:
Quote:“The true spiritual experience was in the stages of the depositions. I literally cried when we were deposing her. It struck to my very heart…”
(https://www.archbalt.org/illinois-doctor...periences/)

Yuck. Now, it might be objected that all this still doesn’t mean that it definitely wasn’t a miracle, that despite all those less-than-encouraging circumstances, it might still have been a miracle anyway. But that would be missing the point: what is required is not a “might-havebeen-a” miracle but an absolutely bullet-proof miracle, one which cannot be explained any other way, since the credibility of the entire process and with it the credibility of the Church (or in this case, the conciliar church) is at stake. And besides which, given all that we have already seen from the conciliar church, do we not have, at the very least, the right, or even the duty, to be a little sceptical? Let us just say that it is a very great shame that these miracle couldn’t have been a little more… unimpeachable. Ah well.


4. Sound doctrine

Newman’s canonisation is almost certainly due to the fact that the modernists recognise in him a man whose thinking paved the way for Vatican II. As mentioned above, “conservative” Novus Ordo Catholics and even some Traditionalists say that he is being misrepresented and “claimed,” in much the same way as the “gay rights” lobby claim him for themselves. On the other hand, that is not the whole story. Despite what his supporters say, there undoubtedly is something not quite right with his teaching, but this is so important that it is worth examining at some length.
"So let us be confident, let us not be unprepared, let us not be outflanked, let us be wise, vigilant, fighting against those who are trying to tear the faith out of our souls and morality out of our hearts, so that we may remain Catholics, remain united to the Blessed Virgin Mary, remain united to the Roman Catholic Church, remain faithful children of the Church."- Abp. Lefebvre
Reply
#2
The following is taken from pages 42-53 of this issue of The Recusant [slightly adapted and reformatted]:


Part 2: What is the Real Problem with Newman?

If Newman is not a Saint, then he cannot, by definition, be considered a Doctor of the Church and we could end this article here. However, it is as one becomes gradually better acquainted with the man and his thinking that the picture which emerges becomes increasingly disturbing.


Newman’s Background

Lest we be accused of ignoring it, let us begin, then, with the question of Newman’s family background and antecedents. The introduction to Fr. Kimball’s fascinating book Cardinal Newman: Trojan Horse in the Church quotes an extract from Rev. Dr. William Francis Barry’s 1903 biography of Newman:
Quote:“Born in the City of London, not far from the Bank, on February 21st 1801, John Henry was the son of John Newman and Jemima Fourdinier his wife, the eldest of six children, three boys and three girls. “His Father,” says Thomas Mozley, “was of a family of small landed proprietors in Cambridgeshire, and had an hereditary taste for music, of which he had a practical and scientific knowledge, together with much general culture.” He was chief clerk and afterwards partner in a banking firm, was also a Freemason, with a high standing in the craft, an admirer of Franklin and an enthusiastic reader of Shakespeare.

These particulars, except the last, will prepare us for the fact that in an earlier generation the family had spelt its name “Newmann”; that it was understood to be of Dutch origin; and that its real descent was Hebrew. The talent for music, calculation and business, the untiring energy, legal acumen, and dislike of speculative metaphysics, which were conspicuous in John Henry, bear out this interesting genealogy. A large part of his character and writings will become intelligible if we keep it in mind. That his features had a strong Jewish cast, is evident from his portraits, and was especially to be noted in old age. It may be conjectured that the migration of these Dutch Jews to England fell within a period not very distant from the death of Spinoza in 1675.”

Barry would later change his mind and retract what he had written here (for whatever that is worth: some might say that his words stand or fall on their own merit). The Thomas Mozley to whom he refers was a friend and contemporary of Newman who became his brother-in-law after marrying one of Newman’s younger sisters. He too was part of the Oxford Movement and almost became a Catholic in 1843, until Newman talked him out of it. He was someone who ought to know what he was talking about, in other words. His work “Reminiscences of the Oxford Movement” is available here: https://archive.org/details/reminiscence...2/mode/2up.

Mozley also tells us that Newman’s mother was a Calvinist of French Hugenot extraction and as for the father’s having been a high-ranking Freemason, he is careful to add that, “...no one of his three sons was initiated” into it. Well, what if Newman’s family were originally Jews? Does that in itself mean that we cannot trust the man? No, of course not: on its own, that fact doesn’t mean a great deal, and if it is tempting to look at parallels between Newman’s thought and Jewish thought, it is also true that there are several very great Saints whose families were of Jewish origin, St Therese of Avila for instance. And if there were to be found a link between his family and upbringing and the thinking evident in his later writings, then the question still hinges on the soundness of that thinking. If there is, as Barry suggested, a dislike of metaphysics then that is the real issue.

Hence, for what follows, we will simply state what others appear already to have spotted in Newman’s thinking, and point the reader who wishes to know more in the direction of greater, more diligent minds than the author of these few pages. What follows is a non-exhaustive sample: we will try to focus on the relevant quotations and keep our own commentary to a minimum.


The Influence of Kant and Hegel

Quote:“...Newman’s writings have a marked influence from the philosophy of Immanuel Kant, who is commonly known to have provided the philosophic groundwork of Modernism, even though Newman himself categorically twice declares, ‘I never read a word of Kant’ in letters to W.S. Lilly in 1884-5, but he also said, ‘I never read a word of Coleridge.’ This latter remark is, as Wilfrid Ward says, ‘not the only instance in which his memory was in later years at fault.’ (Wilfrid Ward, Life of Cardinal Newman, 1912, vol.1, p.8) ”
(Cardinal Newman: Trojan Horse in the Church, Ch.6)

Quote:“He possessed it is true, a copy of Miekeljohn’s translation of Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason (1855), and its leaves are cut from the beginning to the doctrine of categories.”
(Johannes Artz, Newman in contact with Kant’s Thought in The Journal of Theological Studies, vol.31 (1980), n.2, p.517)

Quote:“The philosophical basis of the Oxford Movement was indirectly derived from Kant. […] Coleridge was the first among English thinkers to study and understand Kant, to assimilate his teaching, and to reproduce it in a new form… I am concerned with his effect upon...the Tractarian Movement. Cardinal Newman, in a paper published in the British Critic in 1839, reckons him one of his precursors, as ‘providing a philosophical basis for it, as instilling a higher philosophy into inquiring minds than they had hitherto been accustomed to accept.’ ”
(W.S. Lilly, Ancient Religion and Modern Thought (London, 1884) p.ii, r 59-61)

Quote:“It was Newman’s contention that the intense theological study which had preceded Ineffabilis Deus [the Apostolic Constitution of Pius IX on the Immaculate Conception] ‘had brought Catholic Schools into union about it, while it secured the accuracy of each.’ He believed that each of the two schools of thought which had previously existed on the subject of Our Lady’s Immaculate Conception ‘had its own extreme points eliminated, and they became one, because the truth to which they converged was one.’

Newman seemed to assert that the only means of doctrinal progress was along the Hegelian lines of thesis, antithesis and synthesis. He apparently imagined that when two groups are opposed on some issue, the ultimate resolution can come only through a sort of compromise, in which the ‘extreme’ points of both opposing theories are abandoned while all the contestants unite in their adherence to a middle position. He seems not to have considered the possibility of a situation in which two parties might debate, and one turn out to have defended a truth which the other attacked.”
(Mgr. Joseph Clifford Fenton: John Henry Newman and the Vatican Definition of Papal Infallibility in The American Ecclesiastical Review, vol.113, n.4 (Oct.1945), p.313)


Proto- Ecumenism and Salvation Outside the Church:

Quote:“As to the prospect of those countless multitudes of a country like this, who apparently have no supernatural vision of the next world at all, and die without fear because they die without thought, with these, alas! I am not here concerned. But the remarks I have been making suggest much of comfort, when we look out into what is called the religious world in all its varieties, whether it be the High Church section, or the Evangelical, whether it be in the Establishment, or in Methodism, or in Dissent, so far as there seems to be real earnestness and invincible prejudice. One cannot but hope that that written Word of God, for which they desire to be jealous, though exhibited to them in a mutilated form and in a translation unsanctioned by Holy Church, is of incalculable blessing to their souls, and may be through God’s grace, the divine instrument of bringing many to contrition and to a happy death who have received no sacrament since they were baptised in their infancy. One cannot hope but that the Anglican Prayer Book, with its Psalter and Catholic prayers, even though these, in the translation, have passed through heretical intellects, may retain so much of its old virtue as to cooperate with divine grace in the instruction and salvation of a large remnant. In these and many other
ways, even in England, and much more in Greece, the difficulty is softened which is presented to the imagination by the view of such large populations, who, though called Christian, are not Catholic or orthodox in creed.” 
(Newman: Certain Difficulties Felt by Anglicans in Catholic Teaching: In Twelve Lectures addressed in 1850 to the Party of the Religious Movement of 1833, 1901, vol.2, pp.356-357)

Quote:“All this is quite consistent with believing, as I firmly do, that individuals in the English [i.e. Anglican] Church are invisibly knit into that True Body of which they are not outwardly members; and consistent, too, with thinking it highly injudicious, indiscreet, wanton, to interfere with them in particular cases - only it is a matter of judgment in the particular case.”
(Newman: Letter to Jemima Mozley, October 9th 1845 [i.e. the very day of his reception into the Catholic Church! - Ed.] )

Quote:“[Newman writes that his fellow Catholics in England are complaining that he is doing nothing and are saying:] ‘Why, he has made no converts, as Manning and Faber have.’ Here is the real secret of my ‘doing nothing.’ The only thing of course which it is worth producing, is fruit - but with the Cardinal, immediate show is fruit, and conversions the sole fruit. At Propaganda [i.e. in Rome], conversions, and nothing else, are the proof of doing anything. Everywhere with Catholics, to make converts, is doing something; and not to make them is ‘doing nothing.’ […] But I am altogether different - my objects, my theory of acting, my powers, go in a different direction, and one not understood or contemplated at Rome or elsewhere. […] I am afraid to make hasty converts of educated men, lest they should not have counted the cost, and should have difficulties after they have entered the Church, I do but imply the same thing, that the Church must be prepared for converts, as well as converts prepared for the Church. How can this be understood at Rome? What do they know there of the state of English Catholics? Of the minds of English Protestants? What do they know of the antagonism of Protestantism and Catholicism in England? The Cardinal might know something, were he not so onesided, so slow to throw himself into other minds, so sanguine, so controversial and unphilosophical in his attitude of mind, so desirous to make himself agreeable to the authorities at Rome.”
(An extract from Newman’s journal, January 1863, which can be found here: (www.newmanreader.org/biography/ward/volume1/chapter19.html)

“Manning” of course refers to Cardinal Manning, the Cardinal Archbishop primate of England and Wales from 1865 to his death in 1892 and therefore one of Newman’s superiors. “Faber” is Fr. Frederick Faber, contemporary and former-colleague of Newman, like him an Oratorian and the founder of the London Oratory (Newman’s Oratory was in Birmingham). This is not the only time that we will see Newman and Faber at odds, and the differences between the two always seem to be favourable to Fr. Faber. But more on that later. In the meantime, lest there be any doubt at all, what Newman is expressing is contrary to sound Catholic teaching:
Quote:“Good hope at least is to be entertained of the eternal salvation of all those who are not at all in the true Church of Christ.”
(Pius IX, Syllabus Errorum, 1863 - condemned proposition 17)

Quote:“Some say they are not bound by the doctrine, explained in Our Encyclical Letter of a few years ago [Mystici Corporis Christi], and based on the Sources of Revelation, which teaches that the Mystical Body of Christ and the Roman Catholic Church are one and the same thing. Some reduce to a meaningless formula the necessity of belonging to the true Church in order to gain eternal salvation.”
(Pius XII, Humani Generis, 27)

Quote:“The teaching that the dogma of the necessity of the Church for salvation admits of exceptions is, in the last analysis, a denial of the dogma as it has been stated in the authoritative declarations of the ecclesiastical magisterium and even as it is expressed in the axiom or formula Extra Ecclesiam Nulla Salus. It is important to note that that teaching is found in Cardinal Newman’s last published study on this subject. […] Obviously, there could be no more effective way of reducing the teaching on the necessity of the Church for the attainment of eternal salvation to an empty formula than the explanation advanced by Newman in what are probably the least felicitous pages of all his published works. That explanation is certainly one of those reproved in the encyclical letter Humani Generis.”
(Mgr. Joseph Clifford Fenton, The Catholic Church and Salvation, 1958, quoted by Fr. Kimball in Cardinal Newman: Trojan Horse in the Church, Ch.7)

The picture which emerges is that when the Vatican II modernists of today claim Newman as a precursor and one of their own, this is not mere wishful thinking on their part, but based, at least in part, on a genuine understanding and appreciation his thinking:
Quote:“After his conversion he could and did publish dismissive statements about Anglicanism that were wounding to his former Anglican friends. But at a more fundamental level, Newman was a bridge figure between Catholicism and Anglicanism.

Quote:His Apologia pro Vita Sua insisted on the reality and permanent value of his teenage Evangelical conversion, and the book is pervaded by affection and gratitude for the Anglican mentors from whom he learned and deepened his Christian faith. More fundamentally, he never abandoned the historical, scriptural and patristic studies that shaped his Anglican writings. […] But perhaps Newman’s greatest contribution to Ecumenism is the extraordinary fact that after his conversion, instead of repudiating his Anglican writings, he republished most of them, with only minor changes, a body of work shaped by Anglican theological method, which has proved a new and fertilising force for the ongoing renewal of Catholic theology.”
(Catholic Bishops Conference of England and Wales, Scripture, the Fathers and Ecumenism, cbcew.org.uk/newman-scripture-the-fathers-and-ecumenism)

The idea that even after being received into the Church, Newman somehow remained an Anglican in his heart and in his thinking is something of a recurring theme and does seem to explain a great deal, including why so many of his fans today are converts to the conciliar Church from Anglicanism (and who, all too often, are found to be still Anglican in all but name). It would explain the fact that he seems to have been rather reluctant to attack the “Church of England” and even a little reluctant to convert too many of them, or even risk offending them. Concerning the restoration of the Catholic hierarchy in England and Wales, which took place in 1850 and offended many Anglicans at the time, his biographer tells us:
Quote:“He was not in complete sympathy with the Cardinal’s [i.e. the new Archbishop of Westminster, Cardinal Wiseman] constructive programme. He had already deprecated in his letters to Faber the policy of unnecessary advertisement akin to boasting, and the
proclaiming of supposed triumphs out of all proportion to facts and realities. This feeling henceforth steadily deepened in his mind. He seems from his letters to have regarded the institution of the new hierarchy as part of the movement associated with the name of Augustus Welby Pugin. […] He did not wish to weaken the hold of the Church of England on the masses. The Established Church was in his eyes a great power in English society for good - for religion and against the growth of infidelity. The ‘conversion of England’ was, moreover, not a practical prospect. To weaken the Establishment was to damage a bulwark of religion, while Catholics had as yet no adequate force to supply in its place. It was true enough that the Bishops and clergymen up and down the country had used most violent and unjustifiable language against Catholicism. But Newman's more normal policy was to be above cheap retort, to consider solely the practical interests of religion. From his letters at this time we may gather that he would have been glad rather than sorry if the new hierarchy had been abandoned […]”
(Wilfrid Ward, Life of Cardinal Newman, vol.1, p.257 ff)

And of course, latent Anglican sympathy or manner of thinking also would explain his surprising attitude towards devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary. Readers outside of England may not fully appreciate that, unlike Baptists, Calvinists and other “low church” Protestants, the Protestants of the so-called ‘Church of England’ had retained some devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary of a kind (as they still do in some places today), although only a pale imitation of the true devotion to her found in the Catholic Church. Hence we find that Anglicans then, as now, were very uncomfortable with Catholic Marian devotion as found, for instance in the writings of St. Louis de Montfort or St. Bernard of Clairvaux.


“Low Views About the Mother of God”

Quote:“Whether he knows it or not he has become the centre of those who hold low views about the Holy See, are anti-Roman, cold and silent, to say no more, about the Temporal Power, national, English, critical of Catholic devotions, and are always on the lower side. […] It is the old Anglican, patristic, literary, Oxford tone transplanted into the Church. It takes the line of deprecating foreign devotions, Ulatramontanism, antinational sympathies. In one word it is worldly Catholicism, and it will have the worldly on its side and will deceive many. […] The thing which will save us from low views about the Mother of God and the Vicar of Our Lord is the million Irish in England, and the sympathy of the Catholics in Ireland. I am thankful to know that they have no sympathy for the watered, literary, worldly Catholicism of certain Englishmen.”
(Cardinal Manning, Letter to Mgr. Talbot, 25th Feb. 1866)

Newman’s perceived (in the eyes of his own superiors) Anglican Mariology is another stark contrast with his fellow Oratorian, Fr. Frederick Faber. Faber was the first to translate St. Louis de Montfort’s True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary into English, and was a great proponent of popular Marian devotions for the faithful, devotions which doubtless were of the sort regarded as “foreign” by Newman and his friends, at least in Cardinal Manning’s view.

Processions, devotional candles, the May crowning and other things which were commonplace in other countries had fallen out of use in England and were being reintroduced by men like Faber. In his introduction to True Devotion, Faber echoed Manning’s complaint about a certain type of English Catholic who is always trying to downplay the Blessed Virgin Mary. Though he does not name names, it is difficult not to see Newman in his complaint:
Quote:“Here in England, Mary is not half enough preached. Devotion to her is low and thin and poor. It is frightened out of its wits by the sneers of heresy. It is always invoking human respect and carnal prudence wishing to make Mary so little of a Mary that Protestants may feel at ease about her. Its ignorance of theology makes it unsubstantial and unworthy. It is not the prominent characteristic of our religion which it ought to be.”
(F.W. Faber, Introduction to True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary)

Newman’s own writings show that Manning’s opinion of him wasn’t so wide of the mark. Extravagant devotions are all very well for foreigners, but here in England it just won’t do:
Quote:“I suppose we owe it to the national good sense that English Catholics have been protected from the extravagances which are elsewhere to be found. […] In the case of our own common people I think such a forced style of devotion would be simply unintelligible; as to the educated, I doubt whether it can have more than an occasional or temporary influence. If the Catholic faith spreads in England, these peculiarities will not spread with it.”
(Newman: Letter to John Keeble, 8th October 1865)

Once again, it should come as no great surprise that today’s episcopal modernists claim Newman as their fore-runner. On this question of Marian devotion, for instance, the Catholic Bishops Conference of England and Wales, like Cardinal Manning, identify Newman as a down-player of devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary. Unlike Manning, however, they wholeheartedly approve:
Quote:“His 1866 Open Letter to Pusey formulated a rich Marian theology based entirely on Scripture and patristic writings, rather than the pious legends and extravagant emotion that partly characterised nineteenth-century Catholic Mariology. That reliance on Scripture and the Fathers would prove fruitful for the twentieth-century movement, “nouvelle theologie,” which helped revitalise Catholic theology, and influenced the theological idiom of the Second Vatican Council – for instance, the chapter in Lumen Gentium on the role of Mary in salvation history owes a great deal to Newman’s example.”

The reader will no doubt recall that John XXIII appointed a preparatory commission which included, among others, Archbishop Lefebvre; that the preparatory commission spent two years prior to Vatican II preparing draft documents for discussion at the Council; that once the Council began, John XXIII allowed the modernists to hijack the proceedings and to throw out all the far too Traditional schemata and replace them with documents of their own which were far more modernist; that one of those new documents was Lumen Gentium; and one of the drafts thrown in the bin at the start of the Council was, according, to Archbishop Lefebvre who helped draft it, a beautiful document on the role of the Blessed Virgin Mary as Co-Redemptrix. Perhaps that is one of the “pious legends” they have in mind here?

What might have been the cause of Newman’s retention of so much Anglican baggage after his conversion is another question altogether and is anyone’s guess. Ultimately, of course, it is not really what matters, but perhaps some light is shed in a letter written to Cardinal Manning by Mgr. Talbot, the papal chamberlain of Pius IX, in which he suggests that Newman suffered from a combination of being idolised and living in a bubble:
Quote:“Newman’s work none here can understand. Poor man, by living almost ever since he has been a Catholic surrounded by a set of inferior men who idolize him, I do not think he has ever acquired the Catholic instincts.”
(Purcell, Life of Cardinal Manning, vol.2 p.323)

Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary was not the only point of dispute which Newman had with Faber, or with Manning for that matter. But it is noticeable that in all these disputes and controversies, it is Newman who always seems to be on the wrong side, whereas:
Quote:“Faber’s name was to be coupled with Manning and Ward, those Catholics who were opposed during the next decades to liberal Catholicism - and by implication to Newman.”
(Ronald Chapman: Father Faber, p.342)


Latent Modernism?

An, at best, horrifyingly ambivalent attitude towards the soundness of Sacred Scripture is by no means unique to Newman, especially when one thinks of Catholic writers of the mid- to late-19th century, a generation or so before St. Pius X. Given the war which has been waged for some time in these very pages against Fr. Paul Robinson’s ideas, however, this deserves at least a passing mention:
Quote:“Far removed from fundamentalism, Newman was dubious about the historical accuracy of many biblical stories; but he lamented the reckless attacks of liberals on the reliability of the Bible because they deprived conservative Protestants of a needed support. ‘To unsettle the minds of a generation, when you give them no landmarks and no causeway across the morass is to undertake a great responsibility.’ (Newman to Malcolm Maccoll, March, 24 1861)”
(Avery Cardinal Dulles S.J., Church and Society p.61)

Quote:“His friends included some of a type known to history as ‘Liberal Catholics.’ Of Montalembert and Lacordaire he wrote in 1864: ‘In their general line of thought and conduct I enthusiastically concur and consider them to be before their age.’ He speaks of ‘the unselfish aims, the thwarted projects, the unrequited toils, the grand and tender resignation of Lacordaire.’ That moving description might be applied to Newman himself. He was intent on the problems of the time and not alarmed at Darwin’s Origin of Species.”
(Catholic Encyclopaedia: John Henry Newman)

Lacordaire was a French priest and a self-proclaimed “Liberal Catholic”. Quite apart from Pius IX’s Syllabus, he is clearly the sort whom Gregory XVI’s Mirari Vos was aimed just prior to the period; and in the years just after it the sort whom Fr. Sarda’s excellent little book Liberalism is a Sin had in mind. Lacordaire is also said to have announced that he would die, “a repentant Catholic but an unrepentant liberal.” On the issue of modernism, it is worth reading the introduction to Fr. Kimball’s book, together with Chapters 4 and 15. Although never condemned by St Pius X (he had been dead twentyodd years in any case), it seems that Newman’s friends and followers were worried that his writings would end up falling under the condemnation of Pascendi, which is itself telling.

What seems fairly clear is that Newman himself was aware during the 1850s, 60s and 70s that he was under suspicion by his superiors in England and in Rome. Hence when one encounters a certain ambiguity in his writings, might that not be, at least in part, because he was trying to avoid getting into trouble? Such ambiguity - orthodox one moment, novel the next, hard to pin down - is a classic symptom of the modernists a generation or so after Newman:
Quote:“Hence in their books you find some things which might well be expressed by a Catholic, but in the next page you find other things which might have been dictated by a rationalist.”
(St. Pius X, Pascendi Dominici Gregis, 18)

This is why merely quoting from Newman is not enough: it is when one begins to see him in context, through the eyes of his contemporaries, that the picture begins to come into focus. Here, for instance, is one of the leading modernists condemned by St. Pius X, Fr. George Tyrell, who although not a disciple of Newman in the strict sense, nonetheless did claim Newman’s thought as having laid the foundations for his own modernism:
Quote:“The solidarity of Newmanism with Modernism cannot be denied. Newman might have shuddered at his progeny, but it is nonetheless his. He is the founder of a method which has led to results which he could not have foreseen or desired. The growth of his system has made its divergence from scholasticism clearer every day. If scholasticism is essential to Catholicism, Newman must go overboard and the defiance hurled in the face of history at the [First] Vatican Council and reiterated with emphasis by Pius X is superabundantly justified.”
(Fr. George Tyrell, in the Hibbert Journal, vol.6 p.243)

Another modernist condemned by St. Pius X, Fr. Alfred Loisy, wrote to his friend Freidrich von Hugel in 1896, saying that he was reading Newman “with enthusiasm” and that:
Quote:“Newman must have been the most open-minded theologian that had existed in the Church since Origen.”
(Mémoires pour server a l’histoire religieuse de notre temps, Vol.1, 426)

Seven years later, in Auteur d’un Petit Livre (1903), Loisy explicitly named Newman as having been his guide in formulating his novel ideas.


How was Newman Viewed by Pius IX?

We have already seen that Fr. Newman’s anti-liberal contemporaries during the reign of Pius IX were not fans. What about the Pope himself? Immediately following his conversion, it would seem that he was favourable:
Quote:“In February 1846, Newman left Oxford for St. Mary's College, Oscott, where Nicholas Wiseman, then vicar-apostolic of the Midland district, resided; and in October he went to Rome, where he was ordained priest by Cardinal Giacomo Filippo Fransoni and awarded the degree of Doctor of Divinity by Pope Pius IX.”

Pius IX is the Pope who, it is said, started out a liberal and became an anti-liberal during the course of his own papacy, especially after witnessing the Revolutions of 1848. He became Pope eight months after Newman was received into the Church, and it was only three or four months after that that he awarded a doctorate to the newly converted Newman. From the same article:
Quote:“In 1878, Newman’s old college elected him an honorary fellow, and he revisited Oxford after an interval of thirty-two years, on the same day Pope Pius IX died. Pius had mistrusted Newman but his successor, Pope Leo XIII, was encouraged by the Duke of Norfolk and other English Catholic laymen to make Newman a cardinal, despite the fact that he was neither a bishop nor resident in Rome. Cardinal Manning seems not to have been interested in having Newman become a cardinal and remained silent when the Pope asked him about it.”
(Ibid.)

Thus it would appear Pius IX favoured Newman when he first became Pope but soon changed his mind and then spent the remaining thirty-odd years of his papacy regarding Newman with suspicion. Newman himself as good as admits that fact, writing to Mr. R. W. Church in March 1879 that his being made a Cardinal would put an end to:
Quote:“...all the stories which have gone about of my being a half Catholic, a Liberal Catholic, [and] not to be trusted . . . The cloud is lifted from me forever. … For 20 or 30 years ignorant or hot-headed Catholics had said almost that I was a heretic … it had long riled me, that Protestants should condescendingly say that I was only half a Catholic”
(Letters and Diaries, vol. 29, 72 & 160)

The current modernist scions of the conciliar Church, too, also recognise that fact about Newman - it is something which they like about him!
Quote:“Following his conversion, St. John Henry Newman faced both misunderstandings from the Anglican world and misgivings in the Catholic world, where he was even seen as an ‘infiltrator’ or ‘a kind of Trojan horse.’ ”

This is all consistent with the changing fortunes of modernism and the war of ideas which was going on during that time. The liberals, for want of a better term, were repressed during the reigns of Pius IX and St. Pius X but in-between they had a brief respite during the reign of Leo XIII. And yet who can doubt that Pius IX and his allies were right to see Newman as suspect?

In hindsight, Leo XIII’s decision to make Newman a Cardinal was ill-judged and brought with it terrible, unforeseen consequences. The attempt by modernists and enemies of sound thinking to use Newman to further their own ends began the moment he died, if not even before, and has continued down to our own day: does not that fact alone tell its own tale?


Newman’s Unsound Philosophy

This is where things become really interesting, but also not a little complicated and abstract. It is also arguably the most important point to grasp about Newman, as well as the one which is most often overlooked by his ’conservative’ would-be supporters. The excellent little book My Life with Thomas Aquinas, (a 1980s Angelus Press reprint of articles originally from Integrity magazine in the 1940s and 50s), names Cardinal Newman as a leading light of what the author calls the “Thank-God-I’m-not-a-Thomist Club”, along with Dietrich von Hildebrand, William Marra and others. In doing so, the author identifies what is perhaps the most important piece of Anglican baggage which Newman brought into the Church with him when he converted, the one thing which links everything together: his unsound philosophy. It is also his legacy to the Catholic Church, and a very dangerous legacy it is too!
“Through no fault of their own, most of the great and learned converts to Catholicism in the last 150 years brought Platonism into the Church with them, and along with it a strong bias against the robust intellectual thought of St. Thomas. Over my lifetime these two influences, the educational, cultural and cosmopolitan thought of the converts, and their covert detestation of St. Thomas, have both spread among native Catholics, especially in the United States. Lately, with the seeming weakening of the Church’s claims for St. Thomas, the philosophical positions of these ‘Platonists’ are making rival claims in their own right. Phenomenology is one of these currently in vogue. Even its language traces to Kant, and remotely to Platonic errors. Philosophical pluralism is claimed, to put them on a par with the thought of St. Thomas, with a view to eventually replacing him, in the Hegelian manner.”

“Through no fault of their own” is perhaps being generous, but how culpable Newman may or may not have been is hardly the point: unsound philosophy is still dangerous, even if it is brought forward in good faith. How is it dangerous? So that we do not fill another twenty pages with a discussion of Plato and Aristotle, let us take just one fairly obvious example, that of “conscience.” Here is a neat little summary from the officially website for Newman’s 2019 Novus Ordo “canonisation”:
Quote:“The great gift, which Newman saw could safely steer a person through all this controversy, is conscience. Conscience – the ‘aboriginal vicar of Christ’ – is that faculty every human being has to know what is right. It is the voice of God Himself
speaking in our soul.”

This concept is not Catholic, it is a novelty, but it is not the word “conscience” itself which is novel, rather the meaning being attached to it. For St. Thomas Aquinas, “conscience” is a thing which one does, much as we might say “knowing” or “understanding” (which is the Latin root of the word); it is not an “aboriginal conscience” which informs us of right and wrong and how we ought to act: that honour belongs to the virtue of Prudence. Prudence, being one of the four cardinal virtues, is not a thing one does so much as a thing which one has, which one possesses (which is the Latin root of the word “habit” - a “habitus,” a thing which is had).

This concept of “a conscience” as a faculty which each of us possesses, the aboriginal voice of God within us and all the rest, is not new and wasn’t even in Newman’s day. How then can it be that Newman is given the credit for it? The answer is that it was new within the Catholic Church, because it is a Protestant idea and the fact that many Catholics have in some degree fallen for it in the years since does not change that fact. Newman himself as good as admitted that his concept of “conscience” was essentially Protestant:
Quote:“When Anglicans, Wesleyans, the various Presbyterian sects in Scotland, and other denominations among us, speak of conscience, they mean what we mean, the voice of God in the nature and heart of man...”
(Letter to the Duke of Norfolk, p.247)

Very well, but what difference does this make in practice? Well, as we have already seen above, Newman admitted to “thinking it highly injudicious, indiscreet, wanton, to interfere with” Anglicans by urging their conversion. Yes, that could be attributed to a lingering sympathy for the (false) religion which formed him, a nostalgia, Anglican baggage, and so forth - but how can an intelligent man justify it to himself? It is because these Anglicans must follow their conscience, even if what it says is wrong, even leads to them being in error:
Quote:“...still he must act according to that error, while he is in it, because he in full sincerity thinks the error to be truth.”
(Letter to the Duke of Norfolk, p.259)

It is no coincidence that liberalism as a phenomenon grew up in Protestant countries long before it began to take root inside Catholic ones. It is, after all, a fruit of the so-called Protestant “reformation”. It is also not hard to see where this leads, the link between a mistaken view of obeying one’s “conscience,” the “Religious Liberty” of Vatican II’s Dignitatis Humanae and the dismantling of so many Catholic states in the years after, where everyone has a right to follow his conscience, whatever his religion may be. Is that what Newman intended all along? Almost certainly not, but as the modernist George Tyrrell so neatly puts it: “Newman might have shuddered at his progeny, but it is nonetheless his.”

And yet, had Newman simply been more ready to listen to the Popes of his own day, perhaps this could have been avoided. How he deals with the fact that both Gregory XVI in Mirari Vos and Pius IX in Quanta Cura condemn (or “scoff at” to use Newman’s exact words) “liberty of conscience” we will leave to the reader who has sufficient curiosity, leisure and patience to go beyond this article. For our purposes, it is enough to show that when Newman is accused of having brought foreign, un-Catholic ideas with him into the Church, that is not an unfair or fanciful charge.

And “conscience” is not the only example of his unsound thinking. Newman’s ideas about probability he owed to having read the works of Anglican “bishop” Joseph Butler, as he himself admitted; his “Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine” was viewed as highly suspect by eminent Catholics then and since; and his article for The Rambler, “On Consulting the Faithful on Matters of Doctrine,” so controversial that he had it published anonymously, was denounced to Rome as heretical by the Catholic bishop of Newport and even Newman’s own ordinary, Bishop Ullathorne, intervened and told him to stop writing for that magazine.


Final Verdict?

Whether he intended it or not, there can be no doubt that John Henry Cardinal Newman was used by the enemies of the Church ultimately to bring about the revolution through which we are all living. His philosophy is Anglican and un-Thomistic; he held “low views” about the Blessed Virgin Mary; and he was at least hesitant about the need for Anglicans to abandon their heretical false religion and enter the One, True Church founded by Our Lord Jesus Christ.

Like his modernist offspring, the liberal Catholic is a slippery customer. He seems to say now one thing, now another; now sound, now unsound; wholly orthodox-sounding one moment, the next, virtually heretical. For this reason he is hard to nail down, hence it is a difficult task for anyone to convict him. If he is a prolific writer it is all the harder, and Newman wrote a huge amount. For this reason, as we have already said, it makes sense not merely to look at his words in a vacuum, but to consider how they were received at that time. And it is when we look at how Newman was viewed by his contemporaries, that a clear picture begins to emerge.

Newman’s opponents, many of whom were great men in their own day, all seem to agree that his ideas were unsound and suspect: in a word, that he was a liberal. But if we look to his friends and admirers in his own day, very often liberal Catholics themselves, they too all seem to agree that Newman was a liberal. The one thing that both sides seem to agree on was that Newman was a liberal.

Newman died in 1890. In the period immediately after his death, the men who took up his banner and kept his writings alive were liberals and modernists: some of them went on to be condemned by St. Pius X even if Newman himself was not, but condemned or not, they too all seem to have regarded him as a liberal and a proto-modernist.

In our own day, the liberals and modernists claim him as one of their own and the basis for their own ideas. The picture is remarkably consistent, the only inconsistency being today’s “conservatives” - among whom are some who call themselves “Traditional” - who insist on the mistaken belief that Newman was somehow a sound Catholic, an anti-liberal, Traditional. Perhaps what is lacking is their own understanding of what those terms really mean. At any rate, Newman was not and is not; nor is he a Saint, nor is he a Doctor, nor ever will be. There is a reason that the conciliarists of today have raised him this far and seek to raise him further: they are not stupid, they know a fellow-traveller when they see him and they are doubtless hoping that their new “Doctor” will be of great use to them in the years ahead in slowly unravelling what little there remains of Traditionalist resistance to the Vatican II revolution in the Church. Let us hope that an ever greater number of Traditional Catholics will not allow themselves to be fooled.

Quote:“Hear this maxim, O you, Catholics full of temerity, who so quickly adopt the ideas and the language of your time, you who speak of reconciling the faith and of reconciling the Church with the modern spirit and with the new law. And you who accept with so much confidence the most dangerous pursuits of what our age so pridefully labels ‘Science,’ see to what extent you are straying from the program set out by the great Apostle, ‘O Timothy, keep that which is committed to thy trust, avoiding the profane novelties of words, and oppositions of knowledge falsely socalled’ (I Tim. 6:20). But take heed. With such temerities, one is soon led farther than he first had thought. And in placing themselves on the slope of profane novelties - in obeying the currents of so-called science - many have lost the Faith.

Have you not often been saddened, and taken fright, my venerable brothers, on hearing the language of certain men, who believe themselves still to be sons of the Church, men who still practice occasionally as Catholics and who often approach the Lord's Table? Do you still believe them to be sons, do you still believe them to be members of the Church, those who, wrapping themselves in such vague phrases as modern aspirations and the force of progress and civilization, proclaim the existence of a ‘consciousness of the laity,’ of a secular and political conscience opposed to the ‘conscience of the Church,’ against which they assume the right to react, for its correction and renewal?

Ah! So many passengers, and even pilots, who, believing themselves to be yet in the barque, and playing with profane novelties and the lying science of their time, have already sunk and are in the abyss.”
- Cardinal Pie, Bishop of Poitiers, 1864

Quote:“Liberal Catholicism is an error of the rich. It could never occur to a man who had lived among the people and had seen the difficulties with which the truth has to contend. … In vain have liberal Catholics denied their brothers, scorned papal bulls, and explained away or disdained encyclicals: these excesses earned them scant praise and humiliating encouragements, but no converts. […] Liberalism proclaims that … ‘as soon as we become more subtle Catholics, modified Catholics, in a word, new Catholics, we will immediately convert the world.’ This illusion consoles their mind when their heart quails; they cherish it, and their eloquence on its behalf reveals how violently, like Esau, they desire a mess of pottage.”
- Louis Veuillot, The Liberal Illusion, 1866
"So let us be confident, let us not be unprepared, let us not be outflanked, let us be wise, vigilant, fighting against those who are trying to tear the faith out of our souls and morality out of our hearts, so that we may remain Catholics, remain united to the Blessed Virgin Mary, remain united to the Roman Catholic Church, remain faithful children of the Church."- Abp. Lefebvre
Reply


Forum Jump:


Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)