Three Minutes with Newman
The Holy Spirit in the life of St. John Henry Newman
On the eve of Pentecost, I offer some thoughts on the Holy Spirit’s action in the life of St. John Henry Newman, the newest Doctor of the Church. In posts on other years we have commented on various meditations by Newman on the Paraclete.
In one of these meditations, he prays: “O my dear Lord, how merciful Thou hast been to me. When I was young, Thou didst put into my heart a special devotion to Thee. Thou hast taken me up in my youth, and in my age Thou wilt not forsake me. Not for my merit, but from Thy free and bountiful love Thou didst put good resolutions into me when I was young, and didst turn me to Thee.”
Indeed, from a young age Newman felt God’s gentle action in his soul — as did St. Josemaría Escrivá, who expressed something similar and at the age of 15 had inkling that God had something special in store for him. Specifically, as a teenager in Logroño, moved by the sight of footprints left in the snow by a barefoot friar, he sensed that God was asking something of him, though he did not know exactly what it was.
Newman had an abiding sense of God’s guidance and assistance. He prayed: “Thou wilt never forsake me. I do earnestly trust so—never certainly without fearful provocation on my part. Yet I trust and pray, that Thou wilt keep me from that provocation. O keep me from the provocation of lukewarmness and sloth. O my dear Lord, lead me forward from strength to strength, gently, sweetly, tenderly, lovingly, powerfully, effectually, remembering my fretfulness and feebleness, till Thou bringest me into Thy heaven.”
From his youth, Newman listened to the voice of God in his conscience, which reprimanded him for reading passages contrary to the faith and for some acquiescence to unspecified sinful thoughts. As a student at Oxford he sought religious truth earnestly.
In doing so he soon realized that it was foolish to try to demonstrate the mysteries of the faith and to condition belief upon reasoning. He acknowledged that faith entails accepting the mysteries revealed to man by God.
In his sermon “The Indwelling Spirit,” Newman writes: “The condescension of the Blessed Spirit is as incomprehensible as that of the Son. He has ever been the secret Presence of God within the Creation: a source of life amid the chaos, bringing out into form and order what was at first shapeless and void, and the voice of Truth in the hearts of all rational beings, tuning them into harmony with the intimations of God’s Law, which were externally made to them. Hence He is especially called the ‘life-giving’ Spirit; being (as it were) the Soul of universal nature, the Strength of man and beast, the Guide of faith, the Witness against sin, the inward Light of patriarchs and prophets, the Grace abiding in the Christian soul, and the Lord and Ruler of the Church.”
Newman of course applied his reason to understand revelation and the Church’s teachings, but he knew that love is necessary for the knowledge of someone or something. His love for the Holy Spirit enabled him to address Him: “O best and first and truest of Teachers! O Thou who art the Truth, I know, and believe with my whole heart, that this very flesh of mine will rise again. I know.” (Meditations and Devotions, 350)
There are many indications of Newman’s docility to the Teacher. One of these is his willingness to change. He famously wrote: “In a higher world it is otherwise; but here below to live is to change, and to be perfect is to have changed often” (An Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine, I, 1, 7). Newman grew in his religious practice, changed religious beliefs, and developed his understanding of religious and theological truths. He was not afraid of change, but acted slowly and cautiously, allowing that “Kindly Light” to lead him on, usually one step at a time.
Another characteristic — in this case a gift of the Holy Spirit — evident in Newman’s life was his fortitude in the face of loss, difficulties, misunderstandings, and injustices: fortitude at the loss of his father and later his sister Mary; courage in leading the Oxford Movement; forbearance at calumnies by Anglicans and later Catholics; determination in overcoming numerous obstacles when establishing the Catholic University of Ireland and later the Oratory School; endurance in dealing with the unjust libel suit and verdict of the Achilli trial, and many other moral sufferings throughout his long life.
Newman exercised prudence in his dealings with people and in his decisions. He pondered, prayed, and sought advice. Despite his doubts about various courses of action, we can see in him the work of the gift of counsel — and with that gift he also counseled wisely the many people who wrote to him or visited him seeking guidance.
Over the years Newman had grown in human knowledge and prudence, and those who saw and spoke with him were aware that they stood before a wise and humble man. The Holy Spirit had bestowed on him the gift of wisdom. For many years he had considered God the stay of the soul, and this belief had become an ever-present conviction that sustained his spiritual life and deepened his trust in God’s particular providence.
We can make his prayer for wisdom our own: “And, for that end, give me, O my Lord, that purity of conscience which alone can receive, which alone can improve Thy inspirations. My ears are dull, so that I cannot hear Thy voice. My eyes are dim, so that I cannot see Thy tokens. Thou alone canst quicken my hearing, and purge my sight, and cleanse and renew my heart.”
St. Paul teaches that God wishes to make each of us a new creation, and that this is the work of the Holy Spirit in our souls. Do we ask the Holy Spirit for his gifts? Do we seek Him throughout the day?
The Blessed Virgin Mary, Our Mother, is the perfect example of docility to the Holy Spirit.
With Newman we continue to pray: “Teach me, like Mary, to sit at Thy feet, and to hear Thy word. Give me that true wisdom, which seeks Thy will by prayer and meditation, by direct intercourse with Thee, more than by reading and reasoning. Give me the discernment to know Thy voice from the voice of strangers, and to rest upon it and to seek it in the first place, as something external to myself; and answer me through my own mind, if I worship and rely on Thee as above and beyond it.” (Meditations and Devotions, 380)





