I: The Witness of St Thomas More, Lawyer and Martyr

Thomas More is the patron saint of lawyers, of judges and of politicians: he excelled in all three of those vocations, and was as well an exemplary husband and father, and a profound scholar. He was learned, devout, courageous, competent and at the same time so warm, witty  and accessible that Erasmus said that he was "born for friendship." Of course, most famously, especially because of the play and the movie, he is known as " a man for all seasons."

We are fortunate that we know quite a bit about him, and can trace the path of his life. A particularly good source, his son-in law William Roper, husband of his beloved daughter Margaret, and who lived in his household for years, wrote a life of Thomas More. Erasmus and other Renaissance humanists were his friends, and we can see him through their eyes.

{sa 0460874314}His own writings, especially Utopia and A Dialogue of Comfort Against Tribulation, have long been available, and since the 1960s the Yale University Press has been publishing his Complete Works, in 15 volumes.     

Thomas More was born in London in 1478, just at the end of the turbulent period of civil strife that was resolved when Henry Tudor defeated  Richard III. He grew up during the reign of Henry VII, and as a young lawyer and politician challenged the king in parliament over his demand for added taxation. The king was so irate that Thomas thought it might be prudent to leave England. Henry VII died and was replaced by Henry VIII, who at first gave signs of being an enlightened Renaissance prince. Although Thomas More seriously considered a priestly vocation, he realized that he was really called to marriage and to work as a lawyer.

Thomas More was very successful as a lawyer, and became part of the glittering circle of renaissance humanists in England and in Europe. Most famously, he was a friend of Erasmus, who stayed with him in England. Eventually the king, recognizing his talents, invited him into royal service, and at the age of 40 he became a part of the royal council and served as Speaker of the House of Commons, Chancellor of the Duchy of  Cornwall, and eventually with the fall of Cardinal Wolsey, Lord Chancellor of England.     

When it became clear that the king planned to take over the church, Thomas More resigned. Because he refused to support the king’s project to dismiss his wife and control the church he was convicted of treason and beheaded on July 2, 1535.         

Thomas More was canonized in 1935. The church is strategic when it declares someone a saint, and Pope Pius XI found in Thomas More and in Bishop John Fisher valuable examples of lay and clerical integrity in a perilous time. Bishops and politicians needed models of how to act in a society whose values go contrary to the gospel, and where the pressure to conform for the sake of comfort and personal advancement is strong. Such was the time of Thomas More, and such were the 1930s. But we too — lawyers, judges, politicians and bishops — need the witness of Thomas More and John Fisher.

It has been said that all that is needed for the triumph of evil is for good people to do nothing. Thomas More himself dealt with that issue in his life with King Richard III, who got to the throne largely because those who could have acted for the common good in order to prevent the wrong-doer from succeeding simply did nothing, largely for reasons of self-interest. In due time Thomas himself was to be caught up tragically in the playing out of the same scenario.

II: Themes From the Life of Thomas More

1. Competence

Thomas rose to the top of every profession he entered, through holy competence — a virtue we sometimes do not consider enough. It was not just that he was naturally talented, though he was. It was not just that he worked hard, though he did. But he was diligent in doing all things well because he acted as a faithful steward of the gifts God gave him. Each piece of work he did, each initiative he took, the very ordering of the hours of his day, all of these things reflected a single-minded commitment to excellence rooted in his conviction that his life was short, and that before God he had a responsibility fruitfully to use the time entrusted to him.

I once talked with a representative of a Catholic group that focuses on the idea that all people are called to sanctify each passing moment, and noted that its members are famous (and feared) for being in positions of power. He replied that it is not a plot, but the simple result of the care each person spends being attentive in all that they do, for each moment of work is a prayer. If you approach all things with that serene conviction, it is not surprising that you rise to the top.

Consecrated competence is what we see in Thomas More. He was simply superb in fulfilling the tasks entrusted to him, and that is why the people of his city, and the devious Wolsey, and the imperious Henry all sought the services of Thomas More. He worked hard, and was shrewd, persistent and honourably diplomatic. In all that he did he was effective and so people consistently called on him. But the foundation of his competence was his humble stewardship of the gifts that God had entrusted to him. He was always conscious of that. His daily excellence in his profession was set within the perspective of the divine presence, which he called to mind each day privately and in his family life, and which he entered into each Friday more fully when he devoted hours of his valuable time to prayer.

Competence can be driven by ego, but then the resulting successes are brittle, alienating and disconnected from the whole texture of life. Thomas More’s competence as a lawyer, judge and politician were of one piece with his spectacular competence as a husband, father and friend. Because it was rooted in a humble gratitude for the gifts, especially time, that God had given him. 

2. Courage.

Thomas More was a man who courageously spoke truth to power. He did not fudge to please his client, the king, even though he knew the consequences of honesty. Of Henry VIII he once said: "if my head would win him a castle in France, it would not fail to go."

His courage was ultimately physical, for he faced physical death, and knew that he could easily avoid that and be returned to a position of wealth and power simply by saying yes to what he knew to be wrong. His physical courage was ultimately moral courage, the courage of his convictions, a courage arising out of his integrity.

He was famous for his wit and graciousness, this man for all seasons, but he was a person not simply of surface sparkle but of substance, the solid substance of a life well lived, of solid principles founded on faith and reason. His courage was substantial, not mere surface bravado.

He died a martyr, and a martyr, almost by definition, is courageous. But his final act of dying "the king's good servant, but God's first," ascending the scaffold cracking jokes as he went, was inseparable from the whole course of his life. He was a martyr, a "witness" to Christ. This lawyer, judge and politician attained glory as a witness: he testified through his words, but most profoundly through his fidelity to the objective values of the Gospel, such as the sanctity of the marriage of King Henry and Queen Katharine and the sacred mission of Pope Clement VII, a truly dubious successor of the one to whom Jesus entrusted the keys of the Kingdom. Dying for Katharine would be the act of a gentleman and dying for Pope Clement would be the act of a fool, but Thomas died for neither. He courageously died for Christ, who made marriage sacred and who entrusted the mission of Peter to the truly unworthy Clement.

Thomas was desperately afraid and prayed that he would be forgiven if, like Peter, he failed as a witness to Christ. He took seriously the possibility that this would happen. The context of his courage was his humble awareness of his own frailty and of the possibility that he would not be courageous. He wrote:

"Though I should feel my fear even at point to overthrow me too, yet shall I remember how Saint Peter, with a blast of wind, begin to sink for his faint faith, and shall do as he did, call upon Christ and pray him to help. And then I trust he shall set his holy hand upon me, and in the stormy seas hold me up from drowning" (Letters, 1442).

He knew that Peter's constancy could be shaken by a blast of the wind and he had no great assurance that he would do any better. But that is the heart of the virtue that is courage: it is to be afraid and yet to act boldly nonetheless, whatever the consequences, because to do so is right.

He resisted a murderous tyrant, when all the politicians and aristocrats and all but one of the bishops were caving in. He courageously remained faithful when he was alone. His own family urged him to give in, and the cruelest blow was when even his beloved daughter Margaret urged him to yield. It is one thing to be courageous in company, but quite another and more glorious reality to remain courageous when alone.

He died for Christ. But he could do that because he lived for Christ: he was a martyr, a witness, in the living and in the dying. The glorious moments on the scaffold, the glorious months of imprisonment in the tower were not a fluke. His whole life of prayer, of love, of study of the scriptures and the living faith of the church, prepared him to be faithful at the last. He did not cram for the test of martyrdom.

Thomas More speaks to us, as does his friend and fellow martyr Bishop John Fisher, the only bishop who did not give in to the king. We need politicians, lawyers, judges and bishops who are courageous, who even if afraid will give the witness of fidelity, and act with integrity, and in so doing give witness to the Gospel.

It takes courage to speak up when group-think is driving us to act wrongly. It takes courage to refuse to go along with what one knows to be an immoral project. Lawyers like Thomas can be tempted to be facilitators of evil. Thomas was not afraid to stand out by acting rightly. He even showed courage in social situations: when the talk at parties became uncharitable he would not sit idly by, but would terminate the gossip and change the conversation by banging his hand on the table and exclaiming: "I don't care what anyone says, the man who designed this house was a fine architect!"

The little acts of courage, as Thomas constantly gave witness to virtue in the ordinary time of his family and professional life, finally led to the supreme courage of the martyr. But that last glorious act was not a fluke, and none of us should presume that we will act courageously and rightly if confronted with a great moral challenge. What is past is prologue, and we need daily to shun cowardice and act courageously as we quietly, gently, persistently and boldly witness to what is right.

The courage of Thomas More was rooted not in bravado, but in humility. He was humbly courageous, for it was not a sense of his own strength and importance that allowed him to be courageous when courage counted, but rather his profound sense of his dependence upon God, who would  give him the strength to meet the danger. Humility is at the heart of the message of Thomas More, and I will discuss it more fully later.

3. Conscience

{amazon id='B000LPR6GA' align='right'}Robert Bolt's play, A Man for All Seasons, presents Thomas More as a martyr for conscience. The play accurately catches much of the spirit of Thomas More, and it is good that there is so dramatic and spectacularly attractive introduction to More, especially in the film version.

But Bolt gets wrong the very point about conscience that is at the heart of his play. He shows us a Thomas More who dies for a highly individualistic and wrong-headed modern concept of conscience, one that we absorb with the air we breath. It is so common, so much around us, that it is taken to be self-evident: conscience is what I hold to be right, and because I, the transcendent I, the autonomous ego, hold it then I will act on it no matter what.

As with all false ideas, there is a powerful truth in that distorted concept of conscience: ultimately each individual must do what that individual sincerely believes to be right.

But the conscience must be "con" "science": the very word means "with knowledge." Conscience must be formed rightly in accord with reality, with the right reason that reveals reality and ultimately with the light of faith that illuminates reality. That is the conscience that Thomas More died for: through the light of faith and reason he knew that the king had no right to put away Queen Katharine and no right to renounce the spiritual authority of the pope. He could not in conscience agree to going along with either of those projects, not because his ego said they were wrong, but because he knew that both actions were against the law of God. The untrammelled ego is a dangerous false god.

There is another famous quote from A Man for All Seasons, which if not an exact quote from More, does accurately capture his thought. His son Roper wants to unilaterally go after the treacherous Richard Rich because he is dangerous, whether he has broken a law or not. Roper feels, according to his individualistic conscience, that More should use his power to crush Rich. More replies that one cannot go on a personal vendetta, ignoring the law. Law is an imperfect but helpful protection against evil. He tells Roper that he would not pursue the devil without recourse to the law, for if  the devil turned on him, what would he do then, the laws all being flat.

More did say that if his beloved father were in a legal dispute with the devil, and the devil had a better case, he would render judgment in favour of the devil.

What is true of the state is more profoundly true of the soul. A simple personal subjective feeling is not enough to govern conscience: it must be guided by an objective analysis of reality, rooted in reason and illuminated (if possible) by faith. Conscience is not just a feeling that some course of action is moral, and still less is it an ego-driven stubbornness in holding to one’s own opinion. Conscience must be formed to be in accord with reality and that work of formation requires thinking, self-awareness (to avoid the danger of rationalization), an awareness of the law of God revealed in nature and revelation and the humble willingness to seek advice from sources that  are trustworthy. More writes of conscience: "Any man is bounden, if he see peril, to examine his conscience surely by learning and good counsel and be sure that his conscience be such as it may stand with his salvation" (Sylvester, p. 8, quoting letter n. 211 in Rogers p. 557).

Listen to the  words of Thomas More, after his condemnation: Roper states in his Life that More humbly replied: "Forasmuch as, my Lord, this indictment is grounded upon an act of Parliament directly repugnant to the laws of God and His Holy Church, the supreme government of which, or of any part whereof, may no temporal prince presume by any law to take upon him, as rightfully belonging to the see of Rome, a spiritual pre-eminence by the mouth of Our Saviour Himself, personally present upon the earth, only to Saint Peter and his successors, bishops of the same see, by special prerogative granted; it is therefore at law, amongst Christian men, insufficient to charge any Christian man."

In this statement, Thomas More clearly is basing his decision of conscience upon a careful study and consideration of the issue at hand.

No particular philosophy or theology should govern the state. Theocracy is unhealthy. But each person must act according to a conscience which leads to an individual act of personal judgment on the rightness of an issue. In matters of personal ethics and professional ethics, we must act according to our conscience rightly formed, so that it is a trusty guide to reality. There can and should be courteous and well reasoned dialogue concerning the means for rightly forming a conscience. Individuals may disagree on religious and philosophical principles, and dispute their effectiveness in shedding light upon reality and their value as resources in the formation of conscience. The ability to think clearly, with reason unclouded by self-interest, is, however, a universally valuable resource, and common acceptance of the role of reason in the formation of conscience is a meeting point for people who differ on the importance of  other resources, such as principles of faith.

A good image for the conscience is the guidance system of an airplane. Its purpose is to get the plane from point A to point B. And just as we always do act according to what we perceive to be our conscience, if it is followed, the plane will duly land: but it may land at the wrong airport, and in life more than in aviation, landing at the right airport matters.

The guidance system can go wrong because the machinery is defective. So too in life, the machinery of conscience can be defective. For example we can have an overly scrupulous conscience and think everything is a sin, or an overly lax conscience and think nothing is a sin. Talking things over with a friend or spiritual director can help there.

The guidance system can go wrong because the wrong information is being fed into it: garbage in, garbage out. The guidance system must itself be guided by information that is objectively in harmony with the actual world outside. So too with conscience. Thomas More spent a lifetime of prayer, reflection, careful study of the human condition, and study of the guidance given by the Scriptures and the living faith of the Church. On the basis of that objective information about the meaning of life he was able to develop a trusty subjective conscience that could make accurate judgments about what was right and what was wrong. A person must act ultimately according to a well formed conscience and then accept the consequences of doing so.

A well formed conscience requires good judgment as well as access to accurate information about reality. We need to see clearly. The power of self delusion is enormous. The first pages of the Bible reveal the distorting power of rationalization, which clouds judgment and ultimately impedes the right formation of conscience. Man and woman are told that God gives them access to all that is in the garden, except for the tree in the centre of the garden. A good point: we are not masters of everything, for none of us is God. Human life is a tissue of limitations and to live rightly we need to recognize that. Man and woman want to control everything in the garden, but do not want to recognize their true motivation. So the tempter says: "God knows well that the moment you eat of it your eyes will be opened and you will be like gods who know what is good and what is bad.  The woman saw that the tree was good for food, pleasing to the eyes and desirable for gaining wisdom. So she took some of the fruit and ate it; and she also gave some to her husband who was with her and he ate it." (Genesis 3:5-6) The fundamental sin is not lust but pride, and nothing distorts judgment like pride.

The members of the lay and ecclesiastical elite of Tudor England were seeking ways to hang on to what they had, and if possible to increase power and fortune. Their motivation for rationalization was immense and rooted ultimately in pride. And so their formation of conscience was disrupted and distorted, and they found countless reasons for appeasing the ego of the tyrant.

But Thomas More was a humble man, who did not cling to the toys of power, success and prestige. He was a free man. When his wife warned him that if he persisted he would lose his beautiful home, he remarked that his cell in the tower was as close to heaven as his mansion in Chelsea. Thomas More was able to see clearly and to form his conscience rightly, not because he made a god out of his autonomy, out of his subjective view of  things, but because he humbly sought to see clearly, sought trusty sources of information about objective reality and diligently studied the matter at hand, praying for guidance to judge rightly, always conscious of and constantly reviewing in his mind the sources of distortion that might lead him through rationalization to a false judgment of conscience rooted in self-interest. He was exceptionally conscious of his susceptibility to delusion, because he knew that he was a proud sinner. He humbly took that into account, throughout hours of  penitential prayer, and only then  he was ready to act according to his conscience.

III: The Gateway to Virtue

Thomas More speaks to us today through his writings and through the record of his virtuous life. His age was in many ways different from our own, but it was fundamentally  quite similar. Customs and policies change, but the human condition remains constant down through the ages, which is why a study of history is valuable, as is reflection upon  the lives of  those who have preceded us (in the Christian tradition, the study of the lives of the saints). It is especially helpful to study the lives of people caught up in a situation of great peril, such as a war, or the regime of a tyrant. Situations like that emphasize the good and evil within us.

Thomas More was universally recognized to be a virtuous man, and though decisive and in his own way ambitious, he was known as a humble man. It is remarkable how often he writes of the dangers of pride, in the individual and in the state. A humble person, who has crucified his ego, will be able to see more clearly and act more disinterestedly.

Humility, in fact, is the foundation for consecrated competence, in which we act effectively because we recognize that we are act in the service of God.

It is the foundation for courage, because  courage needs to be based on an awareness that despite fear we are acting in the service of God and not out of some egocentric bravado.

And humility is the foundation of a properly formed conscience, which requires that we humbly be attentive to reality even if it does not please us. A humble person recognizes that each of us is most susceptible to the rationalizations that can cloud the judgment t of reason, and so distort the conscience. A humble person will listen, and will be able to gain insight from the sources necessary for the proper formation of conscience. A humble person is not likely to let vanity, and the passion to maintain prosperity and success, compromise the moral decisions we all are called to make.

The first fruit of  pride is illusion, and many of More s most hilarious passages describe the folly of the proud. He could likely write so effectively and notice the nuances of pride so perceptively because with his brains and drive and talent he was no doubt aware of his own susceptibility to that sin.

Thomas offers us in his writings and in the record of his life two antidotes to the pride which undermines competence, courage and conscience: first, meditation on death, and second, laughter.

The basic spirituality of his day led Thomas to reflect upon the shortness of life. He spent hour upon hour praying, and especially reflecting upon the death of  Christ and the significance of that death for each of us as we  ponder our brief journey on earth. As the psalm says: Lord teach me the shortness of life, that I may gain wisdom of heart.

The meditation upon death is not morbid but liberating. More was not attached to his life here on earth, and so could be immune both to the allure of the court and to the terrors of the Tower. In the famous Holbein portrait we see him in the splendour of wealth, success and power. But we know now what only his beloved daughter Margaret knew then, that beneath the robes of state he was wearing a hair shirt. Such a man cannot be toyed with, or tempted, or threatened. The things that we desire can become the strings that control us. Thomas More would be the puppet of no one, for the enticements (wealth, power, a long life, success, respect, popular esteem, vanity) that Henry used to control others did not work with him.

Thomas More speaks to us, in his writings and in the record of his life, and invites us to look with a cold eye on those  things, whatever they may be, that control us.

More once said: The devil, that proud spirit, cannot stand laughter. Every account of the life of Thomas More speaks of his joyful spirit. His home was alive with laughter. He was such a good friend because he did not mope, and once had to pretend to be somber so that Henry would tire of his company and Thomas could get home to be with his family.

One reason More was effective was that he was a master satirist. Like his friend Erasmus he used wit to reveal human folly. Especially in Utopia, but really throughout his writings he turns upside down the pomposity and misplaced values that are the basis of much human evil and suffering. The Utopians have so much gold that they use it for the most common uses, and are astonished at ambassadors who arrive proudly flaunting the stuff. He would not sell his soul to keep the splendid gold collar we see in the Holbein portrait.

The recurring word he uses in his last year in the tower is merry. He looks forward to meeting merrily with his persecutors in heaven. And his jokes on the scaffold amazed the world.

Such a man, who has seen what is real and what is not, can laugh at human pretension, and recognize it in himself. It is a wise person who knows how to laugh. Tragedy is pagan but comedy is divine. St. Teresa of Avila, who lived slightly later than Thomas, was famous as well for her joyful spirit and said: from somber saints, O Lord, deliver us.  More was a deeply joyful man, who could pass unstained through the world of human folly because although he took God very seriously, he did not take himself seriously. Such a person cannot be tempted or terrorized, and will act with competence, courage and in good conscience. Because he is able to cut through human pretension, he will judge wisely. And because his laughter, rooted in the perspective on the human condition gained through faith, makes him an attractive companion who will be able to influence others for good.

{amazon id='0300009844' align='right'}Thomas More is more influential today than he was at the height of his power. His works - his writings - have been published by Yale University Press in a magnificent scholarly edition entitled The Complete Works of Thomas More But those splendid volumes do not contain his complete works. They contain his writings, through which his wisdom continue to guide succeeding generations. The more precious work of Thomas More is found in the record of his life. His writings  and his life form his complete works, and through them, and through the inspiration of his competence, courage and conscience,  he exercises more influence now than ever he did at the height of his earthly power.