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Since this has now become the topic of some dispute, I thought I might just make a head post of the topic of Newman on Marian devotions. The question was, in essence: what did John Henry Newman think of such Marian writers as St. Alphonsus Liguori and St. Louis de Montfort? In the first place, many thanks to attentive reader JK, who posted this link to an EWTN page written specifically to summarize this debate. With a little help from the footnotes of that document I found some original sources and I thought I might post a few quotes here.
The overwhelming impression one gets from Newman’s Letter to Pusey is that he wishes to defend Catholic Marian devotion from its detractors, and to place himself in company with all loyal sons of Our Lady in all matters of substance. He teases the Anglican writers for attacking the Church for its “idolatry” when, in the minds of most ordinary Protestants, they themselves have admitted so much as to give the boat away.
“Anglicans seem to me simply to overlook the strength of the argument adducible from the works of those ancient doctors in our favour; and they open the attack upon our mediæval and modern writers, careless of leaving a host of primitive opponents in their rear. I do not include you among such Anglicans, as you know what the Fathers assert; but, if so, have you not, my dear Friend, been unjust to yourself in your recent Volume, and made far too much of the differences which exist between Anglicans and us on this particular point? It is the office of an Irenicon to smoothe difficulties; I shall be pleased if I succeed in removing some of yours. Let the public judge between us here. Had you happened in your Volume to introduce your notice of our teaching about the Blessed Virgin, with a notice of the teaching of the Fathers concerning her, which you follow, ordinary men would have considered that there was not much to choose between you and us. Though you appealed ever so much, in your defence, to the authority of the “undivided Church,” they would have said that you, who had such high notions of the Blessed Mary, were one of the last men who had a right to accuse us of quasi-idolatry. When they found you with the Fathers calling her Mother of God, Second Eve, and Mother of all Living, the Mother of Life, the Morning Star, the Mystical New Heaven, the Sceptre of Orthodoxy, the All-undefiled Mother of Holiness, and the like, they would have deemed it a poor compensation for such language, that you protested against her being called a Co-redemptress or a Priestess. And, if they were violent Protestants, they would not have read you with the relish and gratitude with which, as it is, they have perhaps accepted your testimony against us.”
Nonetheless, he does of course think that there are important differences between these Anglicans and the view endorsed by Holy Mother Church, and he defends at considerable length the Catholic view, focusing especially on the way in which the later teachings of the Magisterium follow harmoniously on the writings of the early Fathers. Obviously, there are few people better qualified to do credit to such an argument, but I will allow you to read if for yourselves if you wish. However, Newman does seem to have had some sympathy with those who find the styles of the later Italian or French writers (such as St. Alphonsus Liguori or St. Louis de Montfort) to be a bit off-putting. His answer to this criticism is twofold. First, he acknowledges that exuberant love sometimes leads the lover to forms of expression that appear unseemly when taken out of context, or read by the wrong eyes.
“If what I have been saying be true of energetic ideas generally, much more is it the case in matters of religion. Religion acts on the affections; who is to hinder these, when once roused, from gathering in their strength and running wild? They are not gifted with any connatural principle within them, which renders them self-governing, and self-adjusting. They hurry right on to their object, and often in their case it is, the more haste, the worse speed. Their object engrosses them, and they see nothing else. And of all passions love is the most unmanageable; nay more, I would not give much for that love which is never extravagant, which always observes the proprieties, and can move about in perfect good taste, under all emergencies. What mother, what husband or wife, what youth or maiden in love, but says a thousand foolish things, in the way of endearment, which the speaker would be sorry for strangers to hear; yet they are not on that account unwelcome to the parties to whom they are addressed. Sometimes by bad luck they are written down, sometimes they get into the newspapers; and what might be even graceful, when it was fresh from the heart, and interpreted by the voice and the countenance, presents but a melancholy exhibition when served up cold for the public eye. So it is with devotional feelings. Burning thoughts and words are as open to criticism as they are beyond it. What is abstractedly extravagant, may in particular persons be becoming and beautiful, and only fall under blame when it is found in others who imitate them. When it is formalized into meditations or exercises, it is as repulsive as love-letters in a police report.”
I should note that this passage is not directed explicitly at any particular writer, but you can see the general trend of his thoughts. He does seem to think that different individuals will properly find different modes of expression. This is supplemented later by a discussion of the way in which people of different nationalities might tend to opt for different forms of expression, some of which would naturally be jarring to the English ear. The bottom line seems to be that Newman does leave room for personal or national taste in choosing the forms of expression that best inspire devotion.
“4. Thus we are brought from the consideration of the sentiments themselves, of which you complain, to the persons who wrote, and the places where they wrote them. I wish you had been led, in this part of your work, to that sort of careful labour which you have employed in so masterly a way in your investigation of the circumstances of the definition of the Immaculate Conception. In the latter case you have catalogued the bishops who wrote to the Holy See, and analyzed their answers. Had you in like manner discriminated and located the Marian writers as you call them, and observed the times, places, and circumstances of their works, I think, they would not, when brought together, have had their present startling effect on the reader. As it is, they inflict a vague alarm upon the mind, as when one hears a noise, and does not know whence it comes and what it means. Some of your authors, I know are Saints; all, I suppose, are spiritual writers and holy men; but the majority are of no great celebrity, even if they have any kind of weight. Suarez has no business among them at all, for, when he says that no one is saved without the Blessed Virgin, he is speaking not of devotion to her, but of her intercession. The greatest name is St. Alfonso Liguori; but it never surprises me to read anything extraordinary in the devotions of a saint. Such men are on a level very different from our own, and we cannot understand them. I hold this to be an important canon in the Lives of the Saints, according to the words of the Apostle, “The spiritual man judges all things, and he himself is judged of no one.” But we may refrain from judging, without proceeding to imitate. I hope it is not disrespectful to so great a servant of God to say, that I never have read his Glories of Mary; but here I am speaking generally of all Saints, whether I know them or not;—and I say that they are beyond us, and that we must use them as patterns, not as copies. As to his practical directions, St. Alfonso wrote them for Neapolitans, whom he knew, and we do not know. Other writers whom you quote, as De Salazar, are too ruthlessly logical to be safe or pleasant guides in the delicate matters of devotion. As to De Montford and Oswald, I never even met with their names, till I saw them in your book; the bulk of our laity, not to say of our clergy, perhaps know them little better than I do. Nor did I know till I learnt it from your Volume, that there were two Bernardines. St. Bernardine of Sienna, I knew of course, and knew too that he had a burning love for our Lord. But about the other, “Bernardine de Bustis,” I was quite at fault. I find from the Protestant Cave, that he, as well as his namesake, made himself also conspicuous for his zeal for the Holy Name, which is much to the point here. “With such devotion was he carried away,” says Cave, “for the bare Name of Jesus, (which, by a new device of Bernardine of Sienna, had lately begun to receive divine honours,) that he was urgent with Innocent VIII to assign it a day and rite in the Calendar.”
One thing, however, is clear about all these writers; that not one of them is an Englishman. I have gone through your book, and do not find one English name among the various authors to whom you refer, except of course the name of the author whose lines I have been quoting, and who, great as are his merits, cannot, for the reasons I have given in the opening of my Letter be considered a representative of English Catholic devotion. Whatever these writers may have said or not said, whatever they may have said harshly, and whatever capable of fair explanation, still they are foreigners; we are not answerable for their particular devotions; and as to themselves, I am glad to be able to quote the beautiful words which you use about them in your letter to the Weekly Register of November 25th last. “I do not presume,” you say, “to prescribe to Italians or Spaniards, what they shall hold, or how they shall express their pious opinions; and least of all did I think of imputing to any of the writers whom I quoted that they took from our Lord any of the love which they gave to His Mother.” In these last words too you have supplied one of the omissions in your Volume which I noticed above.
Those who are further interested in Newman’s assessment of Marian devotion should read the document for themselves. It shouldn’t take more than an hour, and it would be ridiculous for me to try to summarize it all. But since this was a point of discussion yesterday, I thought I might pick out a few of the most relevant quotes. If you read the whole letter, you will find that Newman has many fine things to say on the great spiritual value of Marian devotion generally. As is suggested in the EWTN document, the only sign of a real theological dispute between Newman and any other writer is his suggestion that devotion to the Blessed Virgin is not absolutely necessary to salvation; one who has never been taught to honor her may, in Newman’s view have some hope of being saved, which St. Louis may not have been prepared to admit. But in this document at least, I wasn’t able to discern any serious criticism of the Marian writers.
St. Louis-Marie de Montfort,
Pope St. Pius X,
St. Joseph,
St. Ambrose of Milan,
St. Thomas Aquinas,
St. Francis (and St. Clare),
St. Catherine of Siena,
St. Alphonsus Ligouri,
St. John Chrysostom,
who posted this link to an EWTN page written specifically to summarize this debate
Well, EWTN didn’t write the page, as it were, I think it was taken from the same group that publishes St. Louis de Montfort’s writings, the Preparation for the Total Consecration booklets, etc.
I hope it is not disrespectful to so great a servant of God to say, that I never have read his Glories of Mary
A sad thing indeed if he did not! It’s nothing but (to put it simply) a string of quotations from Fathers, saints, and eminent spiritual writers; it is a compendium of the best that has been said about Mary - not only by hot blooded Italians and Frenchies of late date - but by the likes of St. Bonaventure and St. Anselm, who, I had not realized before, are both effusive in their praise of Our Lady. It’s sad to say, given recent discussion, that I’m afraid their words would hurt the hears of many.
As to De Montford and Oswald, I never even met with their names, till I saw them in your book; the bulk of our laity, not to say of our clergy, perhaps know them little better than I do.
Many thanks to God that so many thousands around the world do now know of St. Louis Marie Grignon de Montfort! But it was still 24 years before St. Louis’ beatification by Leo XIII that Newman wrote this letter to Pusey. And then it wasn’t until 1947 that St. Louis was canonized by Pius XII.
Clara,
I found this post helpful. Newman approaches the issue with such balance, making allowance for differences of style without disparaging the sentiments of either saintly writers or those who read them with difficulty.
In some respects, I struggle to appreciate the simplicity of St. Therese of Lisieux or the gravity of the Cure of Ars. While I realize indicates a certain insufficiency in my own spirituality, it is reassuring to hear the venerable Cardinal Newman excuse differences of this kind based on the mysterious nature of love, which inspires unaccountably diverse expressions, only comprehended perfectly through the eyes of a lover.
I thoroughly agree with Raindear.
I remember how, as a cradle Catholic who briefly went over to evangelical Protestantism, I was angered by the exalted titles Catholics gave to Our Lady - “Tower of Ivory” and so on. To my rather simplistic mind it seemed like plain idolatry. I remember hearing an evanglelical Anglican minister say “The present Pope can hardly write a letter without mentioning her name, yet there are twenty-one letters in the New Testament and her name isn’t mentioned in any of them!” That simple fact seemed to me to fully vindicate the Protestant position. At the time, of course, I knew nothing of the Church fathers, nor did I know of the depth of Marian theology in Catholicism - of the fact, set forth in the Catechism, that Our Lady’s greatness flows completely from God and is totally dependent on Him. It was Scott Hahn’s book “Hail, Holy Queen” that helped me overcome a lot of my Protestant inhibitions.
St. Alphonsus and St. Louis, of course, came from Catholic countries where there were fewer such inhibitions. I really like what Cardinal Newman says about the fervour of the lover (and was reminded, while reading it, of how I laughed coldly and cruelly when the transcripts of a certain prince’s conversations with his mistress were read out on a documentary on television recently). One must admire the fervour of their love for Our Lady, even if one feels that they could have expressed themselves more carefully. I suppose the main thing to bear in mind is that the Catholic faith uniquivocally teaches that we are saved by God’s grace alone.
These days I have a much healthier devotion to Our Lady than I used to have, though I don’t manage to pray the Rosary as often as I should. While making an idol of her would obviously not be a good thing, and something that some traditionalists should perhaps guard against just a tiny bit, it seems clear that the Church as a whole today is in far too much danger of erring in the other direction, of not honouring her enough. I remember the words of a French student, a practising Catholic, to whom I had mentioned the Rosary - “Oh, in France the only people who say it are, how do you say, bigot?” It’s ironic that liberal priests, who pride themselves so much on their enlightened views on women and consider the Bad Old Days before Vatican II to have been a time of male oppression, almost never mention Our Lady in their homilies.
Anyway, thank you for posting that - it reminded me that I really should read more of Newman …
Yes, I also liked the analogy to love letters being read out of context. It’s hard for us, weak creatures that we are, not to project back on Our Lady unpleasant associations that we may have with others who are devoted to her, with the circumstances in which we were taught to honor her, and so on. That’s why I think it can be valuable to keep this kind of advice in mind, and simply not to dwell on devotional writings that are very difficult for us. Perhaps they were written by a different kind of lover, or perhaps we are not yet mature enough to understand them. Either way, probably better to pass on to something that does seem more helpful.
I should specify that I do get very suspicious of anyone who says this concerning the Most Holy Rosary. The Rosary is one of the Church’s oldest and most venerable devotion, and its extreme simplicity should make it accessible to anyone. And there isn’t any person alive who won’t do well to love Our Lady more. Those poor Protestants — doesn’t it ever bother them that they are essentially without a spiritual Mother? Another thing about Our Lady… not only can we turn to her for love, we can also take pride in her, since she is a human being just as we are.
Anyway, I enjoyed your comment, Brian T. Hickey, but I was somewhat amused by this remark: “I suppose the main thing to bear in mind is that the Catholic faith uniquivocally teaches that we are saved by God’s grace alone.”
I’m not exactly disagreeing with the claim, but… why is it the main thing to bear in mind? What worry is it that this reminder is intended to ease?
Yes, sorry, I shouldn’t be resurrecting adolescent spiritual agonisings and projecting them into blogosphere! But many evangelicals, among whom I once counted myself, sincerely believe that Catholics do NOT trust in God’s grace alone for their salvation, that instead they trust in saints, their own merits etc. For an admittedly rather crass but theologically typical example of this, see Jack Chick’s tract “Why is Mary Crying?” which can be read online. That tract quotes in all seriousness Acts 4:12, “Neither is there salvation in any other, for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved” as something that should be new to Catholics.
I remember once sitting in an evangelical Bible study group when the minister, the same one I quoted in my comment above, told us that Fr. Richard Neuhaus had said in an interview that if he were asked at the gates of Heaven why he should be let in, he would firmly reply “Because of Christ’s blood shed on the Cross.” There was a loud guffaw from the Baptists present when the minster said this. “He doesn’t mean it! That’s just jesuitical sophistry! Catholics don’t really believe that!” It took me many years, and the reading of books including James Akin’s The Salvation Controversy and the former Bishop of Fribourg’s The Meaning of Grace, (you’d think a German Studies student would have other things to do) to figure out that actually they DO believe it.
So sorry, I didn’t mean to be making mountains out of molehills in that comment. But I think maybe one reason why Newman can empathise with a Protestant suspicion of fervent devotion to Our Lady is that he originally came from an evangelical background himself, and at some point had had to overcome the false evangelical notion that Catholics do not trust fully in God’s grace for their salvation.
I figured there was probably a back story like that, Brian, and I remember some of those debates from my high school days, which is why it made me smile. I myself had no special stake either way at that time, having no real ties to either Catholics or Evangelicals, but it always seemed to me that there must be something wrong about the way the question was asked… which is how it seems to me still. CS Lewis said that the question “are we saved by grace or works?” was rather like asking which side of the scissors does the cutting, and I think that’s about right.
I can sort of see the Protestant worry, but it’s something of a straw man argument — though admittedly one that has probably been fueled by misunderstandings on the part of some practicing Catholics. (Not the sort of confusion to which many are prone today, however.) All good things come from God; there was never any question of that. And without Christ’s sacrifice we’d all be lost — none of the Saints or Doctors would dispute that, either. What’s funny to me about Evangelicals is the way they talk about “grace” as if they have some clear and concrete idea what it is, like it comes to them in well-marked packages straight from heaven. Personally, I don’t see why sacraments, the intercession of saints, the help of others and, yes, good works, can’t be rolled up into the economy of grace in some way. The Scholastics basically didn’t think it was possible to be virtuous without the intercession of grace, so the Protestant argument about grace vs. works would just have seemed silly to them.
I also find it a little strange how so many Evangelicals love to tell “power of prayer” stories involving friends, families or churches… but then they balk at the idea of the intercession of saints. What’s the big difference? We Catholics just like to stay friends with those who have passed on. Some of them make pretty good friends. :)
For Protestants with these sorts of hangups, I always think the best book to recommend is Ronald Knox’s Belief of Catholics. He explains everything in an eminently reasonable way. Don’t give them St. Louis de Montfort. As you observed, that sort of intense devotional language tends to make the wrong sort of impression on one who is already inclined to misunderstandings about Catholics and the Blessed Mother.
I think Protestants struggle with the concept of intercessory prayer largely because they dislike the notion that God favors souls more or less according to their merits. They attempt to deny the existence of a spiritual hierarchy, that a holy man’s prayers bear more weight before the throne of God.
Huh. You know, I never thought of it that way, but that actually makes a lot of sense.
“As to his practical directions, St. Alfonso wrote them for Neapolitans, whom he knew, and we do not know.”
Newman makes a very important inference here that deserves comment.
St. Alphonsus was a most practical man. He know his people well…he was truly one of them in every way. In all his writing he sought to be practical lest he not reach his reader. Thus he wrote to the simple person of his time in a way that would reach them. He certainly did not forsee his works being translated into so many languages and being continually in print 100 years after they were written (Newman’s time) and another 100 years after that! It isn’t the style in which St. Alphonsus wrote that keeps people reading his works, but rather that they are practical, understabdable, and orthodox.
Just a thought: I wonder what Newman would say about the fact that Liguori is more widely read than he?
“Just a thought: I wonder what Newman would say about the fact that Liguori is more widely read than he?”
Is he really? That seems incredible to me, but then I’m a university-dweller. Certainly Newman is much more read within universities.
I was wondering about that myself… I think it’s a race for the bottom, probably.
I’d think that Liguori is better read than Newman on the whole. Newman is read primarily by aspiring intellectuals (nothing wrong there), not ordinary Catholics, who are more likely to have picked up St. Alphonsus’ “Stations of the Cross” or his novenas somewhere or one of his compilations from TAN. One of St. Alphonsus’ Christmas carols was translated out of Neapolitan into standard Italian (by Bl. Pius IX) and became the most popular Italian carol to this day. Additionally, back in the day there were plenty more Redemptorists around distributing Liguorian theology via missions than there were Oratorians. In my parish library back home there were more devotional books by Liguori than theological tracts by Newman. Wikipedia (drawing, I think, on a TAN blurb): “Alphonsus wrote 111 works on spirituality and theology. The 21,500 editions and the translations into 72 languages that his works have undergone attest to the fact that he is one of the most widely read Catholic authors.” I think that beats out Newman. More people worldwide fall in the “emotional Neapolitan peasant” caste than in the “reserved Oxonian” one I guess.
That’s a good point about translation and editions. I bet the contest is much closer in English, but otherwise I bet Ligouri wins.
(I should read “Preparation for Death” again.)
Yes, I think that Anglophones may tend to overestimate the expanse of Newman’s global readership on the basis of his influence on Catholicism in the “Anglosphere.” This has to do with the fact that he’s one of the first Catholic theological geniuses writing in modern English as his primary language. I certainly have never understood the idea that he should be compared to Sts. Augustine and Thomas Aquinas (!) in terms of his status within the world of Catholic theology. Those doctors more or less set the tone for all subsequent Latin theology for centures after their deaths and exemplified the Patristic and Scholastic approaches, respectively. Objectively speaking, Newman’s influence has not been nearly so expansive, as he himself would be the first to indicate. In the Catholic part of Continental Europe, where there were no “gaps” in the continuous line of gifted theologians (at least none comparable to that England suffered), he probably would not stand out so much.