Pope Francis recently canonized Cardinal John Henry Newman.
Newman was a contemporary of our foundress, St. Jeanne Jugan, and probably knew
our early communities in England. He grew up and was educated in the Church of
England, and for many years flourished as a prominent Anglican preacher and
intellectual before converting to Catholicism in 1845.
As a Catholic, Newman was ordained a priest, founded the London
Oratory and wrote many scholarly texts. He was named to the College of
Cardinals by Pope Leo XIII, who called him “my cardinal.” Contemporary writer
and speaker Los Angeles Auxiliary Bishop Robert Barron calls Newman “the
greatest Catholic theologian since Aquinas.”
Cardinal Newman was not known only for his intellect or exemplary
piety. His letters and diaries reveal that he was a warm, gentle, and
thoughtful man devoted to family, friends, and those he served. He possessed a
great capacity for love along with his extraordinary mind, choosing as his
episcopal motto, “Heart speaks unto heart.”
What intrigues me about Cardinal Newman and his canonization is
this blending of intellect and heart. From all the writings that he could have
quoted in his canonization homily, Pope Francis chose the following description
of holiness penned by the new saint: “The Christian has a deep, silent, hidden
peace, which the world sees not … The Christian is cheerful, easy, kind,
gentle, courteous, candid, unassuming; has no pretense … with so little that is
unusual or striking in his bearing that he may easily be taken at first sight
for an ordinary man.”
Newman’s conviction that there was nothing “ordinary” about being
a Christian is striking. I suspect that many of us tend to take the
extraordinariness of our Christian vocation for granted.
I find it equally striking that Cardinal Newman described the
qualities of a Christian in such ordinary, unremarkable terms. To be easygoing,
cheerful, kind or courteous does not seem particularly remarkable — but to be
so in season and out of season, with friends and enemies alike, does require
heroic virtue.
Such was the life of our foundress and our early Little Sisters.
They did not study or write about their Christian faith. They lived it — simply
but uncompromisingly — striving to love Jesus Christ with their whole heart,
and to continue his life and virtues on earth through their humble mission of
hospitality to the elderly.
In a sermon given while he was still an Anglican, Newman asserted
that personal influence is the only real means of propagating the faith. He
said that it is impossible to underestimate the moral power of a single
individual who practices the Gospel within his own circle over the course of
years. The “inspired Word” would be nothing but a dead letter, he asserted,
unless transmitted from one to another through personal influence.
Though a Christian may be unknown to the world, “Within the range
of those who see him, he will become the object of feelings different in kind
from those which mere intellectual excellence excites,” he preached.
“In each age … we shall read of tumult and heresy, and hear the
complaint of good men marveling at what they conceive to be the especial
wickedness of their own times,” he continued, suggesting that we should be
satisfied with our humble place in life, so long as we are instruments of good
to those who know us personally.
Those “commonly held in popular estimation are greatest at a
distance,” he said with wry insight. “They become small as they are approached.
But the attraction, exerted by unconscious holiness, is of an urgent and irresistible
nature; it persuades the weak, the timid, the wavering, and the inquiring; it
draws forth the affection and loyalty of all who are in a measure like-minded;
and over the thoughtless or perverse multitude it exercises a sovereign
compulsory sway … ”
How consoling these words are. We don’t have to be famous to make
a difference in our world — we have only to live the Gospel wherever God has
placed us. This was the “unconscious” yet effective holiness of St. Jeanne
Jugan and our first Little Sisters.
Referring to Cardinal Newman’s famous poem, “Lead Kindly Light,”
Pope Francis concluded his canonization homily with these words: “Let us ask
God to be ‘kindly lights’ amid the encircling gloom.” What a beautiful
admonition for us as the dark days of winter approach — let’s strive to be
kindly lights in our own circle of family, friends and neighbors.
Sr. Veit is director of communications for the Little
Sisters of the Poor.