Friday, March 31, 2023

William Peto at Greenwich, Before and After

On March 31, 1532, authorities agree, Observant Friar William Peto or Peyto, preached in the chapel at Greenwich in the presence of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, comparing them to King Ahab of the Northern Kingdom of Israel and Jezebel, which was not a compliment!

Janet Wertman provides the account from Stowe's Chronicle on her blog:

The first that openly resisted or reprehended the King touching his marriage with Anne Boleyn was one Friar Peto, a simple man yet very devout, of the order of Observants: this man preaching at Greenwich, upon the two and twentieth Chapter of the third book of Kings, viz, the last part of the story of Ahab, saying even where the dogs licked the blood of Naboth, even there shall the dogs lick thy blood also O King, and therewithal spake of the lying Prophets [i.e. false and selfish counselors] which abused the King, etc. I am quoth he, that Micheas whom thou wilt hate, because I must tell thee truly that this marriage is unlawful and I know ye shall eat the bread of affliction, and drink the water of sorrow, yet because our Lord hath put it into my mouth, I must speak it. . . .

Please read the rest there.

Eustace Chapuys, the ambassador for Charles V the Holy Roman Empire (Katherine of Aragon's nephew) offers a less dramatic report (dated April 16 of that year):

On Easter day the provincial (fn. 2) [William Peto] of the Friars Minors preached at their convent at Greenwich before the King, who was not pleased with the sermon; for the preacher said that the unbounded affection of princes and their false counsellors deprived them of the knowledge of the truth. The King spoke to the provincial afterwards, and heard words which did not please him; for the provincial told him clearly that he was endangering his crown (son estat) for both great and little were murmuring at this marriage. The King dissembled his ill will, and, not being able to alter the provincial's opinion, gave him leave to go to Tholouse. When he heard of his departure, he caused one of his chaplains (fn. 3) [Dr. Richard Coren or Curswen] to preach there in his presence, contrary to the custom of the convent and the wish of the warden. The chaplain began to contradict what the provincial had preached, saying that he wished he were present to answer him. On this the warden (fn. 4) [Henry Elston] rose, and said that he would answer for his minister in his absence. At the close of his sermon the chaplain dared to say that all the universities and doctors were in favor of the divorce. The warden could not stand this lie, and said, in presence of the King, that it was not so. The King was very angry, and has caused all the bishops to tell the provincial, who has returned, that he ought to deprive the warden, and make him amend his error. This he will not do, and yesterday the King had them both arrested. They have promised Chapuys they will rather die than change their opinion. The provincial went abroad more to have a book in the Queen's favor printed than for the chapter. The King thinks he will benefit his cause by allowing preaching in favor of the divorce; but his cause grows worse, for the people murmur incredibly.

As British History Online notes, at one time Henry VIII, as he had the Carthusians, commended the Observant Franciscans of Greenwich:

Henry VIII, in 1513, wrote from his palace of Greenwich to Leo X that he could not sufficiently commend the Observant Friars' strict adherence to poverty, their sincerity, charity and devotion. No Order battled more assiduously against vice, and none were more active in keeping Christ's fold. (fn. 12)

(Remember that it was from Pope Leo X that Henry VIII received the title Defender of the Faith for Henry's book against Martin Luther.)

Once their opposition to his marital plans became known Henry VIII's opinion of them changed, and like the Carthusians, they were at first pressured to support his will and then imprisoned and martyred when they did not comply. Peto and Elston were imprisoned after these exchanges at Greenwich in 1532 and then allowed to retreat to the Continent.

You may read more about the fate of the Greenwich Observant Franciscans at British History Online, as linked above.

The Catholic Encyclopedia offers this summary of his life:

Cardinal; d. 1558 or 1559. Though his parentage was long unknown, it is now established that he was the son of Edward Peyto of Chesterton, Warwickshire, and Goditha, daughter of Sir Thomas Throckmorton of Coughton. He was educated by the Grey Friars and took his degree of B. A. at Oxford; but he was incorporated in Cambridge university, 1502-3, and became M. A. there in 1505. He was elected fellow of Queen's College in 1506, and on 14 June, 1510, was incorporated M. A. at Oxford. Entering the Franciscan Order, he became known for his holiness of life, and was appointed confessor to Princess Mary. Later on he was elected Provincial of England and held that office when in 1532 he denounced the divorce of Henry VIII in the king's presence. He was imprisoned till the end of that year, when he went abroad and spent many years at Antwerp and elsewhere in the Low Countries, being active on behalf of all Catholic interests. In 1539 he was included in the Act of Attainder passed against Cardinal Pole and his friends (31 Hen. VIII, c. 5), but he was in Italy at the time and remained there out of the king's reach. On 30 March, 1543, Paul III nominated him Bishop of Salisbury. He could not obtain possession of his diocese, nor did he attempt to do so, on the accession of Queen Mary in 1553, but resigned the see and retired to his old convent at Greenwich. There he remained till Paul IV, who had known him in Rome and highly esteemed him, decided to create him cardinal and legate in place of Pole. But as Peyto was very old and his powers were failing, he declined both dignities. He was, however, created cardinal in June, 1557, though Queen Mary would not allow him to receive the hat, and the appointment was received with public derision. It was a tradition among the Franciscans that he was pelted with stones by a London mob, and so injured that he shortly afterwards died (Parkinson, op. cit. below, p. 254). Other accounts represent him as dying in France. The date frequently assigned for his death (April, 1558) is incorrect, as on 31 October, 1558, Queen Mary wrote to the pope that she had offered to reinstate him in the Bishopric of Salisbury on the death of Bishop Capon, but that he had declined because of age and infirmity.

Please note that William Peto or Peyto's mother was Goditha Throckmorton of Coughton in Warwickshire. Most of the Throckmorton family was resolutely Catholic throughout the Tudor and Stuart eras, and suffered recusancy fines and imprisonment for decades, especially during the reigns of Elizabeth I and James I. Note the comment Sir George Throckmorton made, apparently because of a remark William Peto made* to him, about Henry VIII's plan to marry Anne Boleyn: 

Unlike her niece, however, [Katherine Vaux, half sister of Sir Thomas Parr] Sir George and Lady Throckmorton remained resolutely Catholic in the face of Henry VIII’s reformation, resisting the annulment of Katharine of Aragon’s marriage. Sir George was apparently the author of the remark that Henry should not marry Anne Boleyn because

‘it is thought that you (Henry VIII) have meddled with both the mother and the sister.’

To which Henry could only deny any ‘meddling’ with Anne’s mother. Following this rather unwise discussion with Henry, Sir George retired somewhat, but his open sympathy with the Pilgrimage of Grace earned him arrest, although not execution. 

Sir George and Katherine Vaux had 19 children. These children divided along confessional lines. The oldest son, Sir Robert (d. c1580), adhered to the faith of his fathers and was probably responsible for the priest hole. Another son, Sir Nicholas (1515 – 1571), who was employed in the household of his cousin, Katherine Parr, embraced Protestantism. . . .

*Per George Throckmorton's biography on the History of Parliament website:

In the course of this he related how, before the Parliament began, he had been sent for to Lambeth by his cousin William Peto, the Observant Franciscan and future cardinal, with whom he had a long conversation about the King’s proposed marriage to Anne Boleyn. Peto alleged that the King had ‘meddled’ with both Anne’s mother and her sister and advised him if he were in the parliament house ‘to stick to that matter as I would have my soul saved’.

So Friar William Peto not only opposed Henry VIII early on, but his mother's family continued to oppose, if only by remaining Catholic, the English Reformation as it continued and developed. There is a book, Catholic Gentry in English Society: The Throckmortons of Coughton from Reformation to Emancipation edited by Peter Marshall and Geoffrey Scott (OSB), narrating episodes from those centuries.

Also, please note the connections to Reginald Cardinal Pole, including Peto's inclusion in the Attainder of 1539 and Pope Paul IV's attempt to replace Pole with the elderly Peto as Papal Legate and Archbishop of Canterbury, an attempt thwarted by Mary I and Peto himself.

Image Credit (Public Domain): Jezabel (sic)and Ahab (c. 1863) by Frederic Leighton

Thursday, March 30, 2023

Radio Interview: St. Thomas More on "Treasures of Faith"

Tomorrow morning, I'll be on a radio program called Treasures of Faith on Divine Mercy Radio (WDMC, 920 AM) in Melbourne, Florida, 10:00 a.m. Central Time, 11:00 a.m. Eastern Time. Listen live here; the host, Mike Gisondi, will send me a link to the podcast of the show about a week later. The reason for the interview is that it just so happened that Mr. Gisondi and I watched the recent broadcast of A Man for All Seasons on Turner Classic Movies during their "31 Days of Oscar" on March 7th. He emailed me and we set up this interview to talk about the movie and its subject, Saint Thomas More--we also want to talk about Saint John Fisher, of course.

After Saint John Henry Newman with 336 tracked posts, Saint Thomas More is the second most featured person on my blog, with 194. Many of those posts were responses to the late Hilary Mantel's traducement of More in Wolf Hall, though I have also considered Fred Zinnemann's version of Robert Bolt's depiction of More in this movie, based upon his stage play.

I look forward to another opportunity to discuss this great saint on the Friday of Passion Week, as Saint Thomas More prepared himself for his own passion and death in the Tower of London, meditating on the Agony in the Garden (De Tristitia) and the Passion (Treatise on the Passion).

Saint Thomas More, pray for us! Saint John Fisher, pray for us!

Wednesday, March 29, 2023

Jemima, Mary, and Christina: Three Women and the Oxford Movement

On March 10 and 11, I watched/listened to the National Institute of Newman Studies (NINS) Spring Symposium, which featured four presentations and a round table on Friday evening and Saturday morning/afternoon. One of the participants on the round table Saturday afternoon was Elizabeth Huddleston, one of the Associate Editors of the Newman Review. She is also the Head of Research and Publications at NINS and a Teaching Fellow in the Department of Catholic Studies at Duquesne University. 

Receiving a recent email from NINS, I noted she'd written an article about Newman and three women, "Rethinking Newman's Influence: The Female Sources". The article immediately made me think of Edward Short's Newman and His Family (for the chapter on Newman and his mother Jemima, whom Huddleston also considers in this article), and Joyce Sugg's Ever Yours Affly: John Henry Newman and His Female Circle.

Since I visited Littlemore in 2010, and saw the plaque dedicated to his mother and her help in building the Anglican church there and building up the community with charitable and education programs, I was most interested in what Huddleston said about her. An excerpt:

Seen in Newman’s correspondence with his mother about Littlemore is the development of his pastoral opinion of how Littlemore ought to be run, as well as the growth of his enthusiasm for his responsibilities to the people of Littlemore, all of which were the encouragement of his mother and her love for the people at Littlemore. At the beginning of his tenure at St. Mary the Virgin—which originally included the people of Littlemore, who were located a couple of miles from Oxford City Centre—Newman would spend the vast majority of his time at Oriel and St. Mary the Virgin, while the people of Littlemore, who were without a chapel at the time, were often an afterthought. At the consistent encouragement of his mother, Newman would come to realize that the people of Littlemore had their own distinctive needs, which led to Newman’s founding of the chapel of Saint Mary and Saint Nicholas, as well as a school. Many of the letters exchanged between Newman and his mother at this time explained these particular needs, such as a governess to teach the children and someone to make sure the children had proper clothing and combed hair for Easter Sunday. Newman became deeply involved in the life of Littlemore and would eventually prefer it over the hustle and bustle of academic life in Oxford. Writing to his mother and sister, both named Jemima, Newman would eventually say how he wished he could spend all his time in Littlemore because he had become quite fond of the people, particularly the children.4


Much of what Newman did for the people of Littlemore was at the encouragement of his mother. In a letter dated 26 June 1836 Newman reminisced on his relationship with his mother shortly after her death, about which he said, “I can never repent it for the good she has done to Littlemore.”5 Newman dedicated the chapel he built at Littlemore to his mother, and we can observe the monument at St. Mary and St. Nicholas church still today.


The pictures above are from our visit to Littlemore as part of a tour during an Oxford Experience class on The Oxford Movement in 2009.

Huddleston also considers briefly the religious influences of mother and son in her article. Please read the rest of the article, including sketches of Miss Mary Holmes, musicologist, governess, correspondent with Newman, and convert to Catholicism, and the poet Christina Rossetti.

Monday, March 27, 2023

A Seventeenth-Century English Translation of the "Stabat Mater"

Those of us who participate in our parishes praying the Stations of the Cross on the Fridays of Lent are probably most familiar with the Edward Caswall translation of the Stabat Mater Dolorosa and the hymn tune Mainz. But Corpus Christi Watershed introduced me to an older translation of that famous sequence from the reign of King James II, (“Under the World-redeeming Rood”) and set to a different tune (“Bayeux”).

Notes from their Brebeuf Hymnal include these details about its provenance:

This breathtaking translation of the STABAT MATER was allowed to be printed in London since it appeared during the reign of James II of England, a Catholic. He had converted from Anglicanism secretly in 1667. . . In an attempt to guess who created this elegant translation of the Stabat Mater, Monsignor Henry wrote: “It is not improbable that Dryden was its author, for his conversion to Catholicity took place in 1686—one year before the translation appeared—and he is known to have translated some of the old Latin hymns of the Divine Office. Certainly the unction, the poetic diction, the powerful rhythms, the close antitheses, of this exquisite poem are worthy of his pen.”

Please click on the link to hear a performance.

Information about its source: 

“The Office of the B. V. Mary in English, to which is added the Vespers in Latin and English, as it is sung in the Catholic Church upon all Sundays and principal Holy-days throughout the whole Year” (London: Printed by Henry Hills, Printer to the King’s Most Excellent Majesty for his Household and Chappel; And are to be sold at his Printing-house on the Ditch-side in Black-Fryers, 1687) p. 393.

Please note the printer, Henry Hills, and his designation as Printer to King James II. According to this blog post from Campbellsville University, Henry Hills had worked for Cromwell and then for Charles II as a printer:

Henry Hills (c.1625-1690) is one of the most contentious figures of the 17th Century, primarily because of his role as an official printer to successive governments on both sides of the political and religious debates that divided the nations for most of the 1600s. He was first employed by Sir Thomas Fairfax in Oxford in 1647, then by the Army and the Council of State in 1653, by Oliver Cromwell as Lord Protector in December of 1653, and by Richard Cromwell in 1659. Following the Restoration, after a brief period of imprisonment, he was appointed as an official printer of Charles II, a position he also held within the court of James II. . . . Following his stint as a Baptist Dissenter, Hills became a staunch Anglican (under Charles II), and even a committed Catholic (under James II). In short, he embodied a wide range of religious perspectives, and managed to serve as a prolific printer and publisher for each of them. . . .


After Hills became a Catholic in 1686, he received that prestigious appointment as King James II's official printer--for the next 21 years! Of course, the reign didn't last that long but the patent he received was comprehensive:

This warrant was followed by an official patent on 19 March 1686. The terms of the patent licensed Hills to print and sell “any number of the books hereafter ment[i]oned that is to say Missalls, Breviarys, Manualls, Primers, Offices, Catechismes any lives of Saints, the book called the Spirit of Christianity.”

This article, by Violet Caswell of Boston College in 2016, provides more background about Hills as

It relates the story of Henry Hills, the wily craftsman who managed to retain his position as official printer to the crown throughout the extraordinarly [sic] different reigns of Charles II, Oliver Cromwell, James II, and Queen Anne. (Caswell, V. (2016). Meeting Henry Hills: Printer To The King’s Most Excellent Majesty. Elements, 12(2). https://doi.org/10.6017/eurj.v12i2.9435)

(When you click on the link you may access a .pdf of the article.)

While the Campbellsville University blog seems to doubt the sincerity of Henry Hills' Catholicism (calling him "The Prodigal Printer"), as does Caswell, the Dictionary of National Biography indicates that at least one member of his family took the Faith seriously, as one of his sons, Robert, became a priest:

Robert . . . was admitted a demy [he received a scholarship] of Magdalen College, Oxford, on 11 Jan. 1687–8, and was expelled on 24 Oct. 1688 [for being a Catholic?] (Bloxam, Magdalen College Register, vi. 56). He continued his studies at Douay, was ordained a priest, and eventually appointed to the mission at Winchester, where he died on 15 Jan. 1745–6 (Gillow, Dict. of English Catholics, iii. 312).

Gillow's entry for Father Robert Hill notes that he took the "oath of profession of faith" at Douai on October 4, 1689 and the Missionary Oath on April 17,1691.

Henry Hills' conversion to Catholicism meant that his character was considered suspect in that era, as indicated by the the biased sources for his life story, as referenced in the Dictionary of National Biography

(The following scurrilous pieces relate to Hills' chequered career: 1. A view of part of the many Traiterous, Disloyal, and Turn-about Actions of H. H., Senior, sometimes Printer to Cromwel, the Common-wealth, to the Anabaptist Congregation, to Cromwel's Army, Committee of Safety, Rump Parliament, &c., Lond., 1684, small sheet, fol. 2. The Life of H.H. With the relation at large of what passed betwixt him and the Taylors Wife in Black-friars, according to the Original, Lond. 1688, 8vo. . . .)

If you want to know more about the Stabat Mater Dolorosa, check out this website!

Image credit/Copyright: The Ninth Station (from the Stations of the Cross in my parish, Blessed Sacrament Catholic Church), (C) Stephanie A. Mann, 2023.
Image Source: (Public Domain) James in the 1660s by John Riley

Monday, March 20, 2023

Saint Thomas More and Monks and Friars

Sometimes Cambridge Core grants open access to journal articles and I happened upon this article by accident, from The Historical Journal, Volume 65 , Issue 4 , September 2022 , pp. 922 - 945, on "Thomas More and the Defence of the Religious Orders in Henry VIII's England" by Martin Heale.

He poses an interesting thesis:

The purpose of this article is not to revisit debates on the place of monasticism in More's spirituality or vocation, but rather to pursue a connected and less well-explored theme: Thomas More's views towards the religious orders in early Tudor England. There are a number of potential benefits to such a study. More's attitude towards the monastic ideal can be illuminated by an analysis of his position towards the concrete manifestations of that ideal in his midst. His writings on the religious orders also provide an interesting case-study of the degree of consistency in More's religious thought over the course of his career, and (a much contested topic) between his early humanist and later controversialist writings. They can equally shed light on the extent of Erasmus's influence on More's thinking, since (it will be argued) the two writers held rather different views towards the strictly observant branches of the religious orders. This article will also explore the wider implications of Thomas More's attitude towards the monasteries of early sixteenth-century England, which was by no means wholly enthusiastic. During the later 1520s and early 1530s – a moment when the role and reputation of the realm's religious houses were coming under intense scrutiny – he was the most active and influential apologist for the English church. Yet More's defence of the monasteries of his day was decidedly guarded, and there are signs that his ambivalent attitude towards the religious orders was held by others among the conservative-minded educated elites of early Tudor England. As a result, England's monasteries would receive relatively little support from this quarter when the Henrician assault on the religious orders began in the mid-1530s.

Please read the rest there.

My first thought as I began reading the article was that Thomas More's apologetic projects were more targeted at protecting Catholic doctrines and practices like prayer for the dead, the Seven Sacraments, the priesthood in general, intercession to and veneration of the saints, etc.

I don't know how long the article will be available, so access it as soon as you can if you are interested.

Monday, March 13, 2023

One Book Leads to Another: From Topping to Aquino

As any reader knows, the author of one book can lead you directly to another author's book, either by mentioning it, including it in the bibliography, or directly recommending it.

Ryan N.S. Topping, whose Rebuilding Catholic Culture I read 10 (ten!) years ago, recommended a book in his latest work, Thinking as Though God Exists: Newman on Evangelizing the "Nones". From the publisher, Angelico Press, which sent me an exam/review copy of the book:

In post-modern society the “nones” have become our new poor. The West still commands vast markets and militaries but our culture has long been living off of borrowed moral capital with no foreseeable schedule of repayment. In Thinking as Though God Exists, Catholic philosopher Ryan Topping draws upon St. John Henry Newman’s voluminous insights to present a far-ranging cultural strategy for the New Evangelization.

The conversion of secular culture requires many things – the rebuilding of the family, the recovery of our artistic traditions, the reimagining of the liberal arts, the reestablishment of local priestly vocations, and more. In this book readers discover how Newman’s concept of an integrative habit of mind can help believers reconstitute and re-propose a coherent and emotionally satisfying account of faith and culture for our time.

It's those words in bold that led Topping to lead me to another book: An Integrative Habit of Mind: John Henry Newman on the Path to Wisdom by Frederick D. Aquino: On page 3 in the Preface in a footnote, Topping recommends that readers of his book read Aquino's book because Topping states: "My argument is that if the New Evangelization is to succeed, we need also daringly to manifest Newman's same integrative habit of mind" with the footnote: "See further Frederick D. Aquino's [title as above]". 

I already had a copy of the book, purchased from Eighth Day Books. From the publisher, Cornell University Press:

Searching for better ways to inspire people to pursue wisdom, Frederick D. Aquino argues that teachers and researchers should focus less on state-of-the-art techniques and learning outcomes and instead pay more attention to the intellectual formation of their students. We should, Aquino contends, encourage the development of an integrative habit of mind, which entails cultivating the capacity to grasp how various pieces of data and areas of inquiry fit together and to understand how to apply this information to new situations.

To fully explore this notion,
An Integrative Habit of Mind brings the work of the great religious figure and educator John Henry Newman into fruitful conversation with recent philosophical developments in epistemology, cognition, and education. Aquino unearths some crucial but neglected themes from Newman's writings and carries them forward into the contemporary context, revealing how his ideas can help us broaden our horizons, render apt judgments, and better understand our world and how we think about it.

So I've started to read it, but I must admit some of the first sentences of Aquino's Introduction made me think we have a hard row to hoe:

As I intend to show, an integrative habit of mind--the capacity to see how things fit together in light of one another and how an understanding of this sort relates to the situation at hand--serves as the underlying concept for my approach to and appropriation of particular issues in these areas. [Aquino also wants to explore] how the cultivation of an integrative habit of mind shapes the pursuit of wisdom. (p. 3)

How does one work to achieve this habit and practice it?

An integrative habit of mind entails a stable disposition and a capacity to grasp how various pieces of data and areas of inquiry fit together in light of one another, thereby acquiring a more comprehensive issue of the issue at hand. . . . the process of cultivating an integrative habit of mind requires appropriate levels of training, reflection, and the courage to engage and learn from a circle of interlocutors. (p. 4)

I read that as I'd just heard about a Federal District Court judge trying to speak at an event sponsored by a student organization at Stanford University (the Stanford Law School, more precisely) being shouted down by students and lectured by Associate Dean for Diversity, Equity and Inclusion. The University's president and the Law School have since apologized to the judge.

The apology is appropriate, but the trouble is that the protesters did not have "the courage to engage and learn from a circle of interlocutors" to start with and could not abide by stated University and Law School policies to protest without disrupting an event, nor did the administrator enforce those policies. Thus there was no opportunity for an exchange of ideas or even for one set of ideas to be expressed. 

So how do we even begin to create an environment for the engagement with and learning from "a circle of interlocutors" when the mere presence of the judge was considered dangerous, according to quotations from the university's newspaper? It does give me pause even as I start reading Aquino's book and am still thinking about Topping's guidance in his book. It will indeed take courage, great courage.

Saint John Henry Newman, pray for us!

Wednesday, March 8, 2023

Book Review: Dermot Fenlon's Study of Cardinal Pole and the Reformation

This book has been a challenge and a delight to read. A challenge because of the very careful research and scholarship Fenlon conducted requiring careful reading and attention, and a delight because he was a wonderful writer, thus making it a compelling read. As an example of the latter, here is his opening description of Reginald Pole's eventful life in the Preface:

Reginald Pole is a figure who slips into two overlapping historical perspectives. The first opens upon the history of Tudor England, the second upon that of the European Counter Reformation. In England, Henry VIII initiated two conflicting movements in the religious life of his country. The first began with his book on the sacraments and his attack on the Reformation, in the service of which he enlisted More and Fisher. The second began with his repudiation of papal jurisdiction, in the course of which he executed, among others, More and Fisher. The protagonists of the first movement became the victims of the second: they found a hagiographer in Reginald Pole. . . . (ix)

I could go to second the second paragraph of that Preface, but I think you get the idea of Fenlon's concision and balance in composition.

Several years ago, I listened to and commented upon a lecture by Eamon Duffy on Reginald Cardinal Pole in which Duffy addressed the need for a new biography of Pole (which this book is not: neither new nor a biography), in spite of Thomas F. Mayer's Reginald Pole: Prince and Prophet, recently published by Cambridge University Press in 2000 and available in paperback. In my 2019 post, I asked:

So why does Duffy want a new biography--or perhaps one that's more accessible (price!)--than this recent effort?

Duffy's main issue is that Mayer has no sympathy for his subject: he did not like Reginald Cardinal Pole and Duffy says it shows: in fact, Duffy states, Mayer "loathed Pole"! Duffy also cites Mayer's entry for Pole in the new Dictionary of National Biography, noting the same problem.

Duffy believes that Reginald Pole was "a holy man; a troubled man" and that Mayer judges him too harshly. Mayer thought he was a hypocrite and a sham! Duffy opines that Mayer's biography of Pole is "dense" and "elusive" . . . 

The reason I bring this point up is that Fenlon is sympathetic to Pole and his circumstances. He does acknowledge Pole's reticence and reserve, his taciturnity and the silence that seemed to indicate his consent to what others were saying, but Fenlon appreciates Pole's situation. He notes that reserve and seeming compliance with Henry VIII's Great Matter, when Pole was asked to help find support for Henry's point of view and finally asked, like More, to be exempted from this process on the grounds of conscience. Finally, he had to respond after the executions of More and Fisher, to what Henry VIII had done to the Unity of Church. His family was in danger after he wrote that letter to Henry, but so was Pole, even though he was on the Continent. The same situation--and response from Pole--occurs when he is asked to help lead the Council of Trent while he holds a view of personal Justification and Salvation that is similar to Martin Luther's at the same that he wants to maintain the Unity of Church and his own unity with the Church in all (other) ways. He stays silent until he has to speak.

Fenlon carefully guides the reader through the Italian and Roman landscape of the Reformation era (responding to calls for curial and Church reform and examining Lutheran objections) and the Counter-Reformation era (after it was clear to Pole and others that reunion with the Lutheran and Calvinist (etc) dissenters was impossible. Then Pole assents to the Catholic doctrine of Justification as defined by the Council of Trent. 

As I read Fenlon's recounting of this long crisis in Pole's life, I thought of Philip Hughes's description of Pole's character in Rome and the Counter-Reformation in England:

Hughes demonstrates that for all [Pole's] knowledge and love of Jesus and His Church, he lacked "irascible passion"; he was too ready to be a victim--and that he had "a temperament that instinctively turned from the hard, unpleasant realities of a problem to the ideal way in which it ought to be solved." (p. 43) Although Pole was a man of action and ready to promote reform and renewal, Hughes claims that he lacked audacity: he was not bold and he could not be stirred to righteous anger. Therefore, he wasn't able to take crucial action in a crisis. 

If Pole was "too ready to be a victim" he certainly became a victim of Pope Paul IV, the former Cardinal Carafa. On page 249 Fenlon describes the future pope's tendency to suspicion:

Suspicion, it would seem, was endemic to Carafa's mind. It could be forgotten for a while in a violent upsurge of emotional generosity: but under impulse it would start smoldering again. His temperament was absolute: equivocation seemed to him the mark of treachery.

Fenlon notes that as a Cardinal, Carafa could be persuaded to calm down and reconsider his suspicion of another. But as pope, "charged with the responsibility of protecting Christendom" (pp. 249-250), he could not be moved. Fortunately for Pole, neither could Queen Mary I, who refused to let Pole return to Rome to face the Inquisition, so that he remained her Archbishop of Canterbury, trying to re-establish Catholicism in England.

A most rewarding read; of course I bought my copy from a second-hand bookseller. It came to me unmarked and pristine. I've made my usual notations and the book kind of curled on its spine. I'm searching for a copy of Fenlon's paper, "The Counter Reformation and the Realisation of 'Utopia'" in Historical Studies: Papers Read in the Ninth Conference of Irish Historians, ed. J. Barry, 9 (Dublin, 1973).

Friday, March 3, 2023

St. Thomas Aquinas on Doctrine and Salvation

Last month, during two of my hours of Adoration I read Sanctifying Truth: Thomas Aquinas on Christian Holiness by Father Romanus Cessario, OP, published by Magnificat. It's short book, just 95 pages. 

The pages that stood for me were from 74 to 77, in the chapter titled "To Rise into Speculation". I wrote several paragraphs in a notebook to help me remember the connection St. Thomas Aquinas made between assenting to certain doctrines and achieving holiness, and herewith provide some excerpts from those notes:

How does Aquinas come to recognize the article of faith as more than a mere formula on which adherents of the Catholic faith agree? How does he come to recognize that the articles of faith as they appear in the Christian creeds are capable of uniting the believer to the very divine reality, the very Christian mystery that the article affirms?

I remember reading years and years ago an article in the magazine U.S. Catholic in which the author said he saw no purpose in reciting the Nicene Creed at Sunday Mass every week because it did not move him or elicit any emotional, devotional feeling. (At least, that's how I recall the gist of the argument.) 

Father Cessario is explaining how St. Thomas Aquinas relates the recitation and thus the assent to the articles of faith in the Creed to our acceptance of "the broader range of matters that the Church proposes for belief", so that when we proclaim that "Christ is born of the Virgin Mary, suffers under Pontius Pilate, and will come again in glory" we are also proclaiming that we believe that "Mary is the Mother of the Church", etc. As Cessario affirms, "the Creed that we recite every Sunday represents a recognizable body of saving truths to which Catholics assent. This assent of salvific faith carries with it the graces necessary to live in accord with all that the Church holds and teaches." (pp. 73-74)

I think this answers that decades old article I remember reading: it's not our emotions that matter while we recite the Creed, proclaiming that we believe those articles of faith stated in the Creed, but our assent, intellectual and willful, through the grace of faith God gives us, to "all that the Church holds and teaches" as revealed by God.

This implicit assent to the "broader range of matters that the Church proposes for belief" also reminds us that the Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed that we profess on Sundays is a symbol of all that we believe as Catholics: it does not mention all of the Seven Sacraments (just Baptism), our doctrine of justification, or other aspects of our faith. We do not proclaim our belief, for example, that the Holy Communion we are about to receive is the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of our Savior, really and sacramentally present under the appearances of bread and wine. But we assent to those beliefs by professing the Creed.

Cessario goes on to state that

Aquinas subordinates the articles of faith to God, who as First Truth energizes them with saving power. This means that when the believer professes the articles of faith, he or she adheres to God himself, First Truth in Being and Speaking. . . . the act of faith reaches beyond the expression of doctrines and brings the believer into contact with God himself. . . . Faith stops not at words but at reality. (p. 75)

The reason these pages are so crucial to Father Cessario's and St. Thomas Aquinas's efforts is that:

The intelligible character of the articles of faith lies at the heart of Aquinas's account of sanctifying truth. The articles have the capacity to unite us to the very mystery which the statement of the article enunciates. . . . In short, the believer is invited to make of the profession of faith a prayer of union between himself and the divine mystery confessed. (p. 77)

And, of course, the believer needs the reality behind what she professes to make that "prayer of union" between her and "the divine mystery" through the gifts and graces of the Holy Spirit: Knowledge and Understanding.

I highly recommend this book which Magnificat describes thus:

Get to know the life and work of Saint Thomas Aquinas, the great Doctor of the Church who dedicated his life to the search for truth.

An inviting introduction to the saint and his insight for all who want to grow holy by immersing themselves in the Divine Truth that is the Word of God.

These insightful reflections from Father Cessario explore the riches of thought that have become known as Thomist theology in a way that makes them accessible to anyone interested in growing closer to the Divine Wisdom that permeates all creation.

Please note that I purchased my copy of the book.

Saint Thomas Aquinas, pray for us!

Image credit (public domain): Icon depicting Constantine I, accompanied by the bishops of the First Council of Nicaea (325), holding the Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed of 381.