“Praise to the holiest” From The Dream of Gerontius by St. John Henry Newman Praise to the Holiest in the height And in the depth be praise: In all His words most wonderful; Most sure in all His ways! O loving wisdom of our God! When all was sin and shame, A second Adam to the fight And to the rescue came. O wisest love! that flesh and blood Which did in Adam fail, Should strive afresh against the foe, Should strive and should prevail; And that a higher gift than grace Should flesh and blood refine, God's Presence and His very Self, And Essence all-divine. O generous love! that He who smote In man for man the foe, The double agony in man For man should undergo; And in the garden secretly, And on the cross on high, Should teach His brethren and inspire To suffer and to die. On November 1 of last year, All Saints Day, Pope Leo XIV declared Saint John Henry Newman – Cardinal Newman – as a Doctor of the Church. There are thousands of saints—but there are only 38 Doctors: saints who not only inspire us by their example and aid us by their intercession, but whose writing and teaching have had a profound impact on the Church. Cardinal Newman’s writings have shaped the Church’s understanding in many ways—especially his teaching on the development of doctrine and on Catholic education. Newman was more than a theologian: he was a preacher, a poet, even a novelist. The poem Scott read is taken from his long poem The Dream of Gerontius, which was published in 1865, when Newman was 64 years old. This poem is written in parts like a verse drama or an oratorio (it was later magnificently set to music by Elgar). Gerontius means “old man.” In the poem, Gerontius is an “everyman,” a “soul” who experiences death and what comes after death. The poem begins with Gerontius, the old man, on his deathbed, friends and priest gathered around, praying for him. But his death is only the beginning. Most of the poem takes the form of a dialogue with his guardian angel, who introduces him to the mysterious world of heaven and helps him prepare to meet God face to face. At the end, he comes before God’s throne, and then is led –joyfully - to Purgatory to be made ready for heaven. The poem Scott read is one of several choruses of angelical beings which the soul hears along the way. It’s a song of praise, which marvels at the “loving wisdom” and “wisest love” of God in the redeeming work of Christ. The poem uses the Scriptural image of Christ as the “new Adam.” In Adam, our “flesh and blood” was vanquished; in Christ, that same flesh and blood prevails against the enemy. But there is more than a victory won here: there is “a higher gift than grace,” for in Christ our “flesh and blood” are “refined,” with God’s Presence, Self, and Essence. Christ is truly human—and truly God. The last two stanzas speak of the suffering Christ underwent, for us, and as one of us. The “double agony” is interior and exterior: anguish of soul in Gethsemane, and physical torment on the cross. God’s wise love is also “generous love”: for when Christ dies on the cross, he is still teaching, showing us how to suffer, and how to die. This song comes close to the end of The Dream of Gerontius. This great mystery of our redemption is what prepares the soul to enter the presence of God. And judgment is no longer terrifying. In life, says Gerontius, “the thought of death / And judgment was to me most terrible. / I had it aye before me, and I saw / The Judge severe e'en in the crucifix. / Now that the hour is come, my fear is fled.” In the face of Christ’s generous, self-emptying love, fear is no longer possible. Newman’s poem about the life that awaits us after death has the feeling of an adventure, a great journey, as the soul discovers that life is not over—it has only just begun. As with poems like The Divine Comedy of Dante and Paradise Lost of Milton, we come away from The Dream of Gerontius feeling that heaven and the afterlife are more real, more vivid, than this life and this world. Newman describes eternal life with urgency and eagerness, without ever dismissing this life as unimportant. Instead, the poem invites us to live life differently, and to look to death—and even judgment—with joy and hope. As Pope Leo XIV said of Cardinal Newman, “The lives of the saints teach us that it is possible to live passionately amidst the complexity of the present, without neglecting the apostolic mandate to shine like stars in the world” ( Pope Leo XIV).
