Imagine a candlestick resting on a table in the corner of a dark room, whose flame does not fade, does not flicker, and does not burn out, but perpetually illuminates the corner and draws others towards its light. This everlasting flame is like a teaching of a Doctor of the Universal Church, seeking not to illumine the entirety of the dark room, but keeps the corner of the room illuminated. Similarly, the teachings of the Church Doctors illumine some component(s) of the mysteries of the Catholic faith without trying to plumb the entirety of the mystery of God.
Compared to my usual diet of scholarly articles and books, Newman’s writings stood out for what appeared to me as their meandering character. Unlike most contemporary works, Newman does not state upfront what he is going to say and then take the reader through the motions of a demonstration delivered blow by blow. He begins, instead, with a puzzle, or a question, that he brings before his audience; he unfolds his thinking slowly, almost searchingly, from his initial questions; he also frequently refrains from tying up his argument, leaving whatever he said simply to “air” with the reader.
This article argues that Newman’s notion of a philosophical habit of mind can provide a helpful conceptual framework for navigating conversations about reading, appropriating, and extending his philosophical thought.
