Abstract
Like a debt clock ticking away, or a scoreboard climbing, numbers are increasing in both categories: ‘books on Newman’ and ‘books by Matthew Levering.’ The author of Newman on Doctrinal Corruption can judge where this monograph stands among his works; as far as books on Newman, it is highly recommended.
In this monograph, Levering draws the reader’s attention to the very real possibility of doctrinal corruption and how this possibility preoccupied Newman and his interlocutors. Levering shows the conflicting ways in which, or criteria by which, or antecedent principles according to which, doctrinal corruption is identified.
He achieves this through an examination of different historical controversies or topical dialogues (perhaps the best word here is Auseinandersetzungen) between Newman and five other figures, with a chapter dedicated to each: Gibbon, R.H. Froude, Francis (his brother), Pusey, and Döllinger. All of these figures in some way accuse Catholicism (and Christianity more broadly, depending on the invidual) of some kind of corruption. For Gibbon (Chapter One) Christianity corrupts an original Jewish Jesus and the Judeo-Christian tradition as a whole deforms a purer and harmonious paganism; for Froude (Chapter Two), Erastianism endangers the doctrinal integrity of catholic Christianity; John Henry’s brother Francis (Chapter Three) rejects dogma, believing it to be a corruption of a pre-dogmatic religious intuition or experience. Francis finds that, in light of historical criticism, not only is the Catholic dogmatic tradition a corruption, but the scriptures which nourish that tradition is also a corruption. For their parts, Pusey (Chapter Four) and Döllinger (Chapter Five) believe that the 1854 and 1870 definitions of the Immaculate Conception and papal infallibility, respectively, are evidence of Catholic doctrinal corruption by way of excess.
There are a number of things that make all of these figures interesting. First, while they all consider seriously some kind of corruption, they dig in their heels at different points. Gibbon and Francis take issue with the Christian dogmatic system generally; Pusey and Döllinger only with Catholicism’s 19th-century purported excesses. Froude is a bit of an outlier in this list because, unlike in the other cases examined, he and Newman never sparred over any substantial disagreement; Froude, in this sense, expresses but one variation on the theological anxiety over the dangerous influence that power exercises over doctrinal integrity, an anxiety that the Newman of the Oxford Movement shared and, which continued to preoccupy Newman as a Roman Catholic, albeit in different ways. Together, all these figures cover a variety of theological problems, ranging from antecedent considerations, history, scepticism, private judgment, religious liberalism, and the maintenance of the dogmatic and sacramental principles, to name but a few.
Secondly, Newman, to some extent at least, shares many of their concerns and, in fact, is more or less influenced by all of them. And yet, Levering shows that Newman’s own take on all these issues more adequately deals with the very real possibility of doctrinal corruption while at the same time not abandoning the dogmatic and sacramental principles. In each case, Levering helpfully distils the major contours of Newman’s lines of argument; in this way, the reader can better understand where Gibbon or Francis or Pusey or whoever, commits an intellectual misstep, or where their starting points differ from Newman’s. For example, how one views the Church’s sovereignty vis-à-vis the state affects how one views doctrine: is it subject to revision according to the political expediencies of religious tolerance?
To take another example, Levering observes that ‘where Gibbon’ (or Francis or Pusey or Döllinger) ‘sees corruption and fanaticism, Newman sees development and truth’ (p. 100). But this, in turn, depends in large part on one’s presuppositions, the most important of which are ultimately philosophical in nature. Crucially for today, Levering shows with Newman that secular or rationalistic ways of doing history—and by extension, philosophy and theology—are no more ‘rational’ alternatives to one that presupposes providence (and therefore, God). ‘The historian who proceeds’ according to rationalist criteria (i.e., within the immanent frame) ‘does not obtain these rules from any necessity within history itself, and so the rules merely exhibit a philosophical decision that should be contested’ (p. 228). This obviously has repercussions for how one conceives of the Catholic dogmatic tradition: what is at stake is the credibility of the assertion that God’s word spoken to the Church continues to be reliably interpreted by an infallible organ in history.
It is here that the sacramental and dogmatic principles converge. While it might seem that Newman’s principles—that the exterior world manifests realities greater than itself (sacramental) and that God has committed a definite message to humankind (dogmatic)—tend towards credulity or authoritarianism or both, Levering’s analysis of these case studies shows quite the opposite: it is when doctrine (or ecclesial utterances) are severed from the sacramental and dogmatic principles that they become the playthings of the powerful, subject to public pressure, fads, popular personas, and, ultimately, the will. For the true religious liberal, there actually is no such thing as doctrinal corruption because it ultimately denies that ‘there ever was a divinely revealed apostolic deposit to be corrupted’ (p. 353). The upholder of the dogmatic principle, by contrast, is held to account by past teaching; for him, it is perfectly conceivable that a pope or council could reject solemnly taught doctrine (but for the divine assistance and guidance offered the Church).
It will be obvious to the reader that the purpose of examining Newman’s concern over corruption is not purely of historical interest. To the contrary: Levering is writing ‘as a constructive theologian immersed in today’s crisis of doctrine’ (p. 6). To wit, Levering is not evasive about his theological intent.
He recognizes that we live in a moment of doctrinal confusion and turmoil, but such a situation is ultimately not new. Throughout its history, Catholicism has witnessed its fair share of theological debate and conflict, and doctrinal disparities and tensions within the Catholic tradition. As anyone remotely familiar with Newman knows, Newman was not only privy to these, but personally involved in some of them. Levering helpfully draws a number of parallels between Newman’s day and our own, including similar theological challenges that Catholic theologians must confront even amongst themselves. But while the historical controversies examined by Levering are indeed instructive, they are also treated with care. Levering’s Newman scholarship is solid; he has also engaged with a monumental amount of secondary literature. (At times, even the footnotes make for interesting reading.) In short, this book is historically sensitive and theologically relevant, and so offers something to the historian, the theologian, and—crucially—the one who aspires to be a historically informed theologian.
At a time when Newman studies seems fraught with division and seemingly irreconcilable first principles, Levering’s study is salutary. For those who desire to see Newman studies develop in a critical and historically informed direction while simultaneously (and unabashedly) engaging in theological discourse according to Catholic dogmatic principles, this book is exemplary. It shows us that we need not choose between the historical and the theological; and we can avoid both hagiography and psycho-speculation. We can attempt as accurate a reconstruction of Newman’s thought as possible, and do so with transparently wider theological concerns.