1. Introduction
In his first papal encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas, Pope Leo XIV affirms that ‘the world of education faces a number of urgent challenges’, two of which are pedagogical and intellectual.Footnote 1 The former involves the need for effective methods, ‘to promote an authentically integral education that addresses every dimension of the person’, resisting an approach that yields passivity in students.Footnote 2 The intellectual challenge concerns knowledge. When an educational system is devoid of ‘love for truth … an incessant flow of information replaces the essential exercise of research, reflection and discernment’, and knowledge becomes ever-more fragmented.Footnote 3 The consequences of such fragmentation are severe: ‘it becomes difficult to grasp reality as a whole, to ask profound questions about meaning, or to develop authentic, critical and creative thought’. Despite people knowing a great deal, they struggle ‘to connect information with deeper knowledge’.Footnote 4
Pope Leo, in fact, has previously dealt with these interconnected educational challenges, for instance in his apostolic letter, ‘Drawing New Maps of Hope’ (2025), wherein he declared St. John Henry Newman the co-patron of education – joining St. Thomas Aquinas – just days before he conferred upon the English saint the title, Doctor of the Universal Church.Footnote 5 The pope invokes Newman in this letter several times, emphasizing the latter’s steadfast commitment to addressing and forming the whole person, the head and the heart, as well as his resistance to education aimed at merely utilitarian ends.Footnote 6 The pope sees in Newman’s legacy resources that can help in facing these challenges, so that we might recover, ‘an empathic and open vision, and to understand better how humankind understands itself today in order to develop and deepen our teaching. This is why desire and the heart must not be separated from knowledge: it would mean splitting the person’.Footnote 7 Additionally, the pope suggests that, in educating people and facing problems today, one must not claim a ‘monopoly on truth’, but rather seek truth together.Footnote 8 In fact, it is more important to know how to approach problems rather than responding immediately. ‘“The aim is to learn how to confront problems, for these are always different, since every generation is new, and faces new challenges, dreams and questions”. Catholic education has the task of rebuilding trust in a world riven with conflicts and fears.’Footnote 9 On the basis of this view, Pope Leo argues ‘that educators must be willing to learn and develop knowledge and be open to the renewal and updating of methodologies’, and that Catholic education is ‘not a nostalgic refuge, but a laboratory of discernment, pedagogical innovation and prophetic witness’.Footnote 10
The general purpose of this article is to investigate how conflict and struggle, observed in history and experienced in one’s own being, might serve to bolster faith in accordance with these reflections by Pope Leo. Two areas are of particular significance regarding the strengthening of faith vis-à-vis conflict: facilitating assent to religious truth claims and renewing catechetical approaches.
Concretely, this article is comprised of three sections. Section 1 will briefly attend to the terms ‘catechesis’, ‘conflict’, and ‘struggle’. The latter two are related, yet distinct, and clarity regarding how they might apply to the areas of assent and catechesis will be helpful. Section 2 will provide an overview of Newman’s religious epistemology and analyze how it conceives of struggle in the process of coming to assent and certitude regarding religious truth claims. This section will primarily treat Newman’s major 1870 work on religious epistemology, An Essay in Aid of a Grammar of Assent (hereafter: Grammar), which challenged insufficient and reductive views of knowledge. Section 3 will then analyze how conflict and struggle are being incorporated into a variety of cognate disciplines to improve student engagement and outcomes. Case studies from both the humanities and natural sciences will demonstrate the potential fruit of being forthright regarding the struggles of major figures in history. These studies will also show the potential value of introducing students to manageable levels of confusion (i.e., internal struggle) and responsibility for course content. The conclusion will offer several constructive reflections while not shying away from the pitfalls that accompany any incorporation of conflict and struggle into the catechetical process.
Ultimately, this article will shed light on how the newest Doctor of the Church and co-patron of education can fruitfully instruct the church through conflicts experienced and observed. It will also respond to Pope Leo’s call for developing knowledge and openness to renewing methodologies through analysis of cognate disciplines. Finally, it offers some constructive considerations for those more properly invested in the design of catechetical curricula. These contributions all play a critical role in facilitating a theology of conflict in conversation with Newman, a larger monograph project to which aspects of the present research belong.
2. Catechesis, conflict, and struggle: definitions in brief
At first glance, the words ‘conflict’ and ‘struggle’ might appear unwise for enriching one’s faith life and the church’s catechesis. However, a closer examination reveals some potentially profitable connections and applications. According to the Directory for Catechesis (2020), catechesis refers to ‘an ecclesial act, arising from the missionary mandate of the Lord (cf. Mt 28:19-20) and aimed, as its very name indicates, at making the proclamation of his passion, death and resurrection continually resound in the heart of every person, so that his life may be transformed’.Footnote 11 Catechesis is thus a commissioned act of the church that prompts true conversion and discipleship; it is not merely intellectual. Moreover, catechesis is ‘A dynamic and complex reality at the service of the Word of God, it is accompaniment, education, and formation in the faith and for the faith, an introduction to the celebration of the Mystery, illumination and interpretation of human life and history’.Footnote 12 This description, particularly the sense of catechesis as ‘accompaniment, education, and formation’ that involve an ‘interpretation of human life and history’, indicates the potential relevance of both conflict and struggle for catechesis. They are indelible facets of life, including the life of the church.
According to the Cambridge Dictionary,Footnote 13 as a noun conflict refers to ‘an active disagreement between people with opposing opinions or principles’. In the realm of belief, this definition might apply to unsettled questions of doctrine and teaching in the life of the church, which feature plenty of disagreement on the part of those whose opinions – and perhaps even underlying principles – might be at variance. Examples of such opinions include the exact course of purgatory or to what extent one might incorporate Darwin’s theory of evolution while maintaining belief in the Creator. Believers also may hold divergent opinions on how time-honored truths or disciplines ought to be interpreted, applied, and taught in the present – a task at the very heart of catechesis. Here, one can think of Christ’s teaching on divorce (see Mark 10:2-12) and what constitutes the threshold of a legitimate annulment, or perhaps the discipline of priestly celibacy throughout Church history. An example of a varying principle might be how one conceives the primary task of the Church in the world (e.g., as a defender of orthodoxy and/or evangelizer of nations). Differences at this deeper level can easily undermine authentic and fruitful dialogue.Footnote 14
Other senses of the word conflict are also worthy of consideration. The Cambridge Dictionary provides two other definitions, including the sense of ‘fighting’ between groups as well as ‘situation[s] in which beliefs, needs, facts, etc. are very different and cannot easily exist together or both be true’. The idea of fighting is one that corresponds to the Latin roots of conflict, namely confligere (i.e., to strike together).Footnote 15 Often enough in Church history one can find examples of such conflict. For instance, Arius of Alexandria vs Athanasius of Alexandria in the early fourth century on the question of the full divinity of the Logos, the Word of God homoousios (i.e., consubstantial) with the Father.Footnote 16 However, not all examples of conflict are as stark or intransigent as this one. As Section 2 will explore below, Newman forthrightly faced and incorporated conflict in his writings. He did so because of the abundant evidence of such conflict, but also because of an increasingly clear conviction that God’s providence had anticipated such conflict in the life of the Church and had provided the Church with the means to navigate it faithfully – from the apostolic age to the present day. Section 3 will focus more on struggle than conflict, but nevertheless will imply a great deal about the value of students engaging conflict in their studies, precisely to recognize their own participation in present-day conflicts.
The word ‘struggle’ involves two senses that both might contribute to the enrichment of faith and catechesis. As a verb, struggle connotes effort and having to expend a great deal of it in order to achieve something or move somewhere, and there is a sense that failure is possible.Footnote 17 This effort can involve fighting or even wrestling with an adversary. As a noun, struggle (relatedly) refers to the extremely difficult task that one is expending effort to undertake, or the fight in which one is engaged. The word has etymological roots in Middle English, Dutch, and Old Norse, roots which also connote grappling, contending, stumbling, disturbance, and/or ill will.Footnote 18 In the sense of fighting or contention, there are immediate parallels with the notion of conflict as already defined. In terms of expending a great deal of effort, Sections 2 and 3 below will both indicate the productive value of struggle within education. In Section 2, Newman’s religious epistemology highlights the value of exertion and struggle for believers on the road to real assent and certitude when it comes to religious truth. Section 3 will show how exposing students to the struggles of historical subjects increases engagement and outcomes. It will also explore how facilitating struggle – described as manageable confusion – within students benefits their learning in numerous ways.
This brief overview of ‘conflict’ and ‘struggle’ will be helpful as the article proceeds. The two terms are at times used interchangeably depending on the sense being conveyed. At other times, the analysis will opt for one term over another, for example, the use of ‘struggle’ when discussing the aforementioned introduction of manageable confusion. The article now turns to Newman’s religious epistemology and treatment of conflict.
3. Newman’s religious epistemology: the road to certitude through struggle and conflict
Newman’s religious epistemology has been the subject of numerous studies.Footnote 19 In an article of limited scope, it is necessary to focus in on relevant aspects of his thought in this regard. Consequently, this section primarily analyzes various concepts from Newman’s most influential work on religious epistemology, namely his Grammar. In this classic text, he explores the nature and rationality of religious belief by attending to the actual operation of the human mind. Newman’s understanding of apprehension, assent, and certitude, as well as the categories of real and notional, are of special significance for assessing the potential value of conflict and struggle for personal faith and catechesis or instruction. His attention not merely to the intellect, but to the imagination and affective dimension of the person, including the heart, yields a robust religious epistemology, which challenges Catholic educators today to employ content and methods that can accommodate inquiry and struggle on the road to sure faith.Footnote 20
3.1. Newman on apprehension and assent, both real and notional
Regarding religious truth claims, Newman focuses great attention in the Grammar on the need for assent and even certitude. Before addressing certitude, it is important to clarify his terminology (in brief). For Newman, religious truth is presented to the mind in propositional form. ‘Jesus Christ is the Son of God’ and ‘He was crucified under Pontius Pilate’ are both examples of what he has in mind. Moreover, participation in certain religious practices or sacraments can be conceived of propositionally. For example, confessing prior to one’s reception of the Eucharist upholds a number of propositions about one’s sinfulness, the call to repentance/holiness, and the Real Presence in the transubstantiated Body and Blood of the Lord. Despite acknowledging the possibility of formalism regarding proposition, Newman is clear about their necessity in matters of religion and contrary to popular sentiment:
The propositions may and must be used, and can easily be used, as the expression of facts, not notions, and they are necessary to the mind in the same way that language is ever necessary for denoting facts, both for ourselves as individuals, and for our intercourse with others. Again, they are useful in their dogmatic aspect as ascertaining and making clear for us the truths on which the religious imagination has to rest. Knowledge must ever precede the exercise of the affections. We feel gratitude and love, we feel indignation and dislike, when we have the informations actually put before us which are to kindle those several emotions.Footnote 21
Here one sees Newman’s attempt to uphold the value of propositions and knowledge, generally, together with the imaginative and affective dimensions of human knowing in religious matters. They are requirements for our own knowing and dialogue with others. Such objects or realities of religion come before believers, who either assent to them or reject them.
By assent, Newman means ‘the absolute acceptance of a proposition without any condition’, which ‘presupposes … some concomitant apprehension of its terms’,Footnote 22 because ‘We cannot assent to a proposition, without some intelligent apprehension of it.’Footnote 23 Newman is clear that ‘some intelligent apprehension’ of a proposition does not mean full understanding or mastery, but rather the ability to impose ‘sense on the terms of which [propositions] are composed’.Footnote 24 In other words, while apprehension might not involve academic mastery of a subject, it certainly amounts to more than repeating what one has heard (i.e., parroting).Footnote 25 Catechesis, even in early stages of development (e.g., First Communion preparation or asking parents questions about faith), can yield apprehension and assent.
Regarding both apprehension and assent, Newman distinguishes ‘real’ from ‘notional’. Generally speaking, when he refers to the real, Newman means that which is concrete, or actual things. When he refers to that which is notional, he means our own mental creations that are abstracted or derived from real objects and experiences. One can think here of the difference between contemplating a person you know (i.e., a real image) and reflecting on each person as an instance of human nature (i.e., a notional image). In some sense, our minds contemplate, through the faculty of imagination, images stemming from both real objects and our own abstractions, but the former are possessed of greater force. He argues,
Of these two modes of apprehending propositions, notional and real, real is the stronger; I mean by stronger the more vivid and forcible. It is so to be accounted for the very reason that it is concerned with what is either real or is taken for real; for intellectual ideas cannot compete in effectiveness with the experience of concrete facts.Footnote 26
That which is perceived as concrete exerts an influence upon the mind and imagination that mere notions cannot, despite any excellence the latter might possess. ‘An act of assent, it seems, is the most perfect and highest of its kind, when it is exercised on propositions, which are apprehended as experiences and images, that is, which stand for things.’Footnote 27 As Pope Leo’s letter intimated above, Newman remains cognizant of the affective and imaginative dimensions of the person. He notes how certain genres, for example engaging historical narratives and poetry, convey impressions to those who read and contemplate them, and who are thus able to apprehend more vivid images of characters and scenes than perhaps from more theoretical prose.Footnote 28 Religion likewise involves realities and concrete objects that prove influential in one’s life, reaching the head and the heart. ‘The heart is commonly reached, not through the reason, but through the imagination, by means of direct impressions, by the testimony of facts and events, by history, by description. Persons influence us, voices melt us, looks subdue us, deeds inflame us.’Footnote 29 Such means impress believers, who generate images that can be apprehended as realities in a manner distinct from more abstract ideas.
For example, one might consider an adult catechumen contemplating the propositional belief, or image, of the Trinity. The liturgical setting of the Easter Vigil suffused with biblical imagery and participation in the sacrament of baptism yields an assent to belief in the triune God that likely differs from assent to, say, the idiomata, or distinguishing characteristics of the three divine Persons (i.e., unbegotten, begotten, processing) treated in prior Order of Christian Initiation of Adults (OCIA) sessions.Footnote 30 Thus, narratives of the Lord’s own baptism, biblical imagery of the triune God, and the liturgical experience of a sacrament of initiation coalesce in an assent that indirectly leads to the changing of one’s entire life.Footnote 31 Newman does qualify that one’s assents can convert from notional to real and vice versa; our ongoing development and experiences are determinative in this regard.Footnote 32 Should the convert to Catholicism quickly cease attending Mass, studying scripture, praying, and doing works of mercy, the real assent might become more notional before fading away altogether.
3.2. Imagination and certitude: detecting the real
The analysis above has mentioned the faculty or power of imagination, which requires further elucidation.Footnote 33 For Newman, the imagination is where realities, through various media, leave impressions on us and where images are apprehended by the mind; these images can be our own creations or abstractions.Footnote 34 Images apprehended in the imagination stem from experience and/or are called forth via memory, which itself ‘consists in a present imagination of things that are past’, including things referred to by propositions.Footnote 35 Imagination does not itself cause action, but finds ‘a means of stimulating those motive powers’, such as ‘hope and fear, likes and dislikes, appetite, passion, affection’, and so forth.Footnote 36 It is connected to practice, albeit indirectly. However, its value for growth in religious knowledge and assent is essential.
It is through imagination that one can process what one directly experiences, on the one hand, and what one hears secondhand, on the other. Regarding religious instruction, one might easily connect certain lessons with experiences of the Mass, sacraments, biblical stories, and conversations with loved ones. When it comes to content and realities not experienced, Newman describes a related ‘faculty of composition’. This ‘inventive faculty’ allows us ‘to follow the descriptions of things which have never come before us, and to form, out of such passive impressions as experience has heretofore left on our minds, new images, which, though mental creations, are in no sense abstractions, and though ideal, are not notional’.Footnote 37 In other words, our imaginations can generate new images using the images we already possess and can access via memory, and these are not necessarily abstract or notional. He gives the example of an exotic piece of fruit that one has never seen before, but which nevertheless may be imagined quite vividly following secondhand accounts, even to the point of conditioning the likely recognition of the fruit if ever encountered.Footnote 38 A student might also glean an impression of historical figures and classic authors from teachers and secondary sources. However, Newman notes the limitations of the faculty of composition, because secondhand accounts, say, of Cicero cannot compare to reading the author himself.Footnote 39 This faculty is also limited by the ‘various images of our memory’; in other words, the individual has the ability to invent images, but these are fashioned out of the repository of images he/she already possesses in memory and via experience.Footnote 40
For Newman, religion – especially scripture – is concerned with realities more than notions, and he identifies ways that one can engage the imagination to facilitate the apprehension of and assent to such realities.Footnote 41 In fact, the totality of life is connected to the development of the image of God in one’s imagination, and he notes the following means for its cultivation: ‘education, social intercourse, experience, and literature’.Footnote 42 In Newman’s earlier, related work on religious epistemology, namely his Oxford University Sermons, he describes ‘The secondary and intelligible means by which we receive the impression of Divine Verities’.Footnote 43 Several such means are noted: ‘the habitual and devout perusal of Scripture … the gradual influence of intercourse with those who are in themselves in possession of the sacred ideas … the study of Dogmatic Theology … [and] a continual round of devotion’. Newman further notes the utility of being able to formulate religious ideas into creeds – that is, connected propositions of faith – which facilitate the perpetuation of impressions made in the distant past by real objects.
Regarding one’s engagement with the Bible, while it is possible to read scripture and apprehend its content in a notional manner, a ‘devout and spiritual’ reader tends to encounter realities. Newman identifies a potential danger, however, for maintaining vivid apprehensions over time, and he suggests meditation as a remedy.
[W]e are in danger of becoming so familiar with [the Gospels] as to be dead to their force, and to view them as mere history. The purpose, then, of meditation is to realize them; to make the facts which they relate stand out before our minds as objects, such as may be appropriated by a faith as living as the imagination which apprehends them.Footnote 44
Newman here highlights the potential value of meditation and the way one immerses oneself in scripture, precisely to maintain a vivid apprehension of such realities to which one assents. The person engaging in this meditation thus activates the imagination to bring facts before the mind as real objects. The work inside, so to speak, might also be appropriated by faith and find practical, outward expression.
Newman also emphasizes the transition from notional assents to real assents, and his argument has further implications for catechesis and the subject of this article.Footnote 45 He draws attention to the common experience of re-reading an important work later in life when one has the benefit of more experience – including suffering – which allows the reality and power of the text (finally) to strike the person. What was general or abstract at an earlier stage of life is thus later apprehended as real. Newman uses the biblical example of Job, whose faith through great affliction and struggle yielded a real apprehension of and assent to the Lord: ‘By hearsay I had heard of you, but now my eye has seen you. Therefore I disown what I have said, and repent in dust and ashes’ (Job 42:5-6, NABRE).
Regarding struggle and conflict within education and learning, Newman’s epistemology is particularly valuable in its treatment of certitude, which to some extent goes beyond assent.Footnote 46 Newman acknowledges a spectrum of assent, with various strengths and characteristics. For example, some assents are, practically speaking, exercised almost unconsciously and perhaps stem from stronger assents to other propositions.Footnote 47 Newman calls these simple assents. For instance, one might assent simply to the goodness of creation because of a conscious, deliberate, and stronger assent to the doctrine of the Incarnation, on which one meditates consistently. This latter assent would constitute complex assent for Newman, which relates to the notion of certitude. However, certitude he conceives as the state of mind featuring not mere knowing, but ‘the consciousness of having that knowledge’.Footnote 48 One knows that one knows. Moreover, certitude involves the ‘triumphant repose of the mind after a struggle’, yielding a particular pleasure distinct from, but connected to, prior exertion and searching.Footnote 49 Certitudes therefore persist in ways not necessarily equaled by assents, which can and do change in the course of life. For this reason, Newman argues that ‘religion demands more than an assent to its truth; it requires a certitude’, or the ability to convert an assent into a certitude if needed.Footnote 50 Ultimately, it is the individual’s efforts and struggle that precipitate the recognition and sure acceptance of that which is real.
To shed light on these categories while integrating prior examples, let us suppose that a convert to Catholicism initially resisted the faith given a distinct aversion to the idea of God becoming human, despite an abiding and intense longing for an experience of – or even communion with – God. Such an aversion might have stemmed from notional assents to an overly negative anthropology and cynical view of history, including the history of the church viewed as an earthly institution. These, in turn, might flow from a keen sense of and real assent to one’s own real or perceived shortcomings, legitimate struggles, and concomitant difficulties with self-love. However, this person decided to attend Mass, participate in OCIA sessions, study scripture and history, ask Catholics about their faith, pray for assistance, and squarely face internal struggles. Consequently, and over time, the person developed a distinct apprehension of the notion of the Incarnation, which nevertheless remained somewhat abstract. However, this notional apprehension began to convert to a real apprehension given the coalescing of various factors: the continuing study of scripture and history, the increasing sense of the language and grammar of faith, the ongoing witness of believers, and an emerging (even unexpected) desire to participate in the Eucharist. What was an abstract concept in the imagination came to refer instead to something real, an object encountered through experience and communicated by those in whom it already lives. The person was then able to apprehend in Jesus Christ the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecies, but in an unexpected and extraordinary way, wherein God’s very life and love are shared with believers.
Newman would describe such a process as the operation of the illative sense, similar to the Aristotelian concept of phronesis, or practical wisdom and prudence regarding action.Footnote 51 In contradistinction, say, to a mathematical proof, the illative sense involves the coalescing of various threads in one’s life, habits, and experience. These threads coalesce into a definite judgment regarding faith. Each thread, on its own, might not be overly impressive and can bear but a light burden; however, when combined, the threads have the strength of a solid cable that can support one’s belief.Footnote 52 Continuing the supposition from above, the person eventually assented to belief in the Incarnation and was ready to convert and receive the sacraments of initiation at the Easter Vigil. The peace of certitude could emerge only when the reality of the Incarnation and God’s love for humanity in its condition – for example, in John 1:1-14 and 3:16-17 – had impressed the new believer’s imagination in a manner that resonated with his/her very life.Footnote 53 The Incarnation, as a sign of God’s charitable love for all the world, in the end struck a fatal blow to the source of the person’s struggle. Yet, that peace was the fruit of significant labor, in which numerous factors came together in overcoming the last obstacles to belief.
In the final chapter of the Grammar, Newman takes a somewhat historical turn, with history and conflict in mind, and the prose is more reminiscent of earlier works like his Essay on Development.Footnote 54 In a work focusing on the nature and rationality of religious belief, this latter part of the Grammar aims at a significant impediment to belief, namely ‘the contrast between the rest and peace which they said [Christ] was to introduce, and the Church’s actual history’.Footnote 55 This history includes ‘the conflicts of opinion which have raged within its pale, the violent acts and unworthy lives of many of its rulers, and the moral degradation of great masses of its people’. Newman’s purpose in writing is as follows:
to show … that Christianity was quite aware from the first of its own prospective future, so unlike the expectations which the prophets would excite concerning it, and that it meets the difficulty thence arising by anticipation, by giving us its own predictions of what it was to be in historical fact, predictions which are at once explanatory comments upon the Jewish Scriptures, and direct evidences of its own prescience.Footnote 56
Importantly, Newman does not seek to suppress the contrasts and conflicts discoverable in Christian history that adversaries of the faith like to highlight. Rather, he emphasizes and attempts to reconcile Jewish messianic expectations with God’s revelation in Christ, while identifying sober New Testament prophecies concerning the trials and tribulations of the church to come.Footnote 57 Similar to the way Newman hoped the Essay on Development would turn a vulnerability on the question of continuity into a true strength,Footnote 58 the Grammar here provides believers with a way to account for conflicts and abuses observed in the long history of the church, which does have a ‘dark side’.Footnote 59 When one need not censor every such abuse, one is in fact liberated to draw attention to the (even greater) abundant good and extraordinary success that Christianity exhibits throughout time and space, and which is not reducible, in Newman’s view, to any earthly cause.Footnote 60 Newman’s view in this regard would undergo further development, particularly following the definition of infallibility at the First Vatican Council and the historical-theological repercussions. Newman would thus expend a great deal of energy in the 1870s constructively negotiating the doctrinal claims of the church, on the one hand, and historical (counter)evidence, on the other, as scholars like Edward J. Miller, Ryan Marr, and I have argued.Footnote 61
This section has shown Newman’s careful attention to the process of apprehending and assenting to religious truth via the imagination. Propositions of a more notional and real character both have their own value and excellence. Yet, as far as possible, Newman claims that real assent is preferable to notional, precisely because religion involves real objects and facts intended to move the person. Consequently, one can argue that his religious epistemology favors the establishment of connections between authentic religious objects and one’s faculties of knowing: rational and imaginative. Establishing and maintaining such connections involve one’s behavior (study, exertion, meditation, etc.) and influences (i.e., intellectual and moral, especially from other people). In addition, Newman’s epistemology suggests the ability to stoke the creative powers of others who do not yet possess sufficient experience through the (limited) faculty of composition. Furthermore, he proposes that religion calls for certitude, which is the fruit of a process involving inquiry and struggle, both of which fall away when sufficient threads coalesce in a sure conviction of knowing. The peace of certitude arises following struggle because the process and ordeal have yielded real ‘intellectual moorings’ to orient one’s very life.Footnote 62 Finally, Newman’s extensive efforts to delineate the process of religious assent were undertaken to show not merely the legitimacy of religious knowledge, but to underline its suitability within God’s providential ordering of reality and in the light of God’s revelation. In fact, the church’s conflicts and trials were foreseen by the Lord from the beginning – acknowledging such indeed frees one to apprehend the greater sweep of history, in which the church’s work and contributions are not reducible to merely earthly causes.
Even though the Grammar does not directly treat the content and methods of catechesis, it does shed valuable light on one’s growth in religion knowledge and how imagination, personal struggle, and the ability to provide lucid accounts of the church – doctrinally and historically – are critically important to that end. This investigation is now in a position to turn to the cognate disciplines and how their treatment of conflict and struggle might prove illuminating for the field of Catholic education.
4. Cognate disciplines and the use of conflict and struggle
This section primarily investigates the various ways that cognate disciplines incorporate conflict and struggle into classrooms, precisely to increase student performance and meaningful connections to course content. Disciplines here include the natural sciences, history, mathematics, and even non-Catholic religious instruction. The word ‘cognate’ in this sense refers to associated – rather than equivalent – disciplines, associated in the sense of facing similar challenges while instructing comparable populations of students. Analysis will distill the importance especially of ideas including struggle stories, conflict, and manageable confusion.
4.1. People, not idols: struggle and student interest(s)
The use of struggle stories in natural-sciences classrooms has been shown to improve student learning and perceived connections to course content. One particularly helpful study was conducted by Xiadong Lin-Siegler, Janet N. Ahn, Jondou Chen, F. Anny Fang, and M. Luna-Lucero, whose research shed light on the way beliefs influence learning.Footnote 63 ‘Students’ beliefs that success in science depends on exceptional talent negatively impact their motivation to learn.’Footnote 64 In other words, when students believe that science is driven by exceptionally talented scientists, while engaging course content that attends merely to the achievements of such figures, the result is diminished student interest and motivation. The research instead ‘tested a novel story-based instruction that models how scientists achieve through failures and struggles’.Footnote 65
Three groups were tested, highlighting different aspects related to the lives of Albert Einstein, Marie Curie, and Michael Faraday: intellectual struggles including the overcoming of mistakes; personal struggles including family issues and lack of support; and the great discoveries achieved by the scientists (i.e., a control group).Footnote 66 The first two groups saw statistically significant gains in student performance – particularly in typically low-performing students – and perceived connections to course content.Footnote 67 The study did not target a change in beliefs themselves, but rather modeled ‘the message that effort can grow intelligence and ability’ through struggles and repeated failures.Footnote 68 Students, therefore, had to draw inferences from approaches involving struggle toward a ‘growth mindset’, and they did so with some success. For example, if students learn merely about Einstein’s exceptional intellect and discoveries, they acknowledge these, but often feel disconnected given their own perceived or real limitations and might even sense that science is not a legitimate field for them. However, if students learn about Einstein’s personal struggles and doubts (in school and beyond), family financial difficulties and moves, and efforts to rewrite papers and answer critics throughout his career, his achievements are more likely to be understood in a different light, and students become more engaged, experiencing greater connection to his story. Ultimately, the research suggests that the ‘use of struggle stories provides a promising and implementable instructional approach that can improve student motivation and academic performance and perhaps other subjects as well’.Footnote 69
A connected, yet distinct theme in the field of religious education appears in a study by Jonathan W. Peters on teaching history in a time of ‘cancel culture’.Footnote 70 Peters notes the desire to offer students an honest portrayal of past figures, but also examples to imitate in living a Christian life. He acknowledges the possibility of discerning common grace in many historical figures, but upholds the necessity of saving grace given humanity’s ongoing iniquity through sin.Footnote 71 This distinction allows Peters to affirm that there are legitimate heroes of the faith, particularly as recorded in the Bible, but also to some extent later in Christian history.Footnote 72 Using this Reformed theological approach, Peters emphasizes a biblical lens for engaging the past, one that explicitly seeks to avoid two pitfalls: idolization and demonization. The former is more directly relevant to this investigation.
By idolization, he means granting heroes ‘a god-like status (contra Ex. 20:3)’, an error he believes that ‘Roman Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy have done with their veneration of saints.’Footnote 73 Notwithstanding this unsubstantiated criticism, Peters more helpfully reflects on how idolization,
can lead to despondency. If students constantly hear triumphalistic historical accounts, they can be led to believe that their heroes had no griefs, weaknesses, failures, blind spots, or struggles …. Students who then experience their own hardships can be tempted to stoically suppress all sorrow … or they can think something is wrong if they do lament.Footnote 74
According to Peters, then, idolization sets a person up for despondency toward the self in the light of one’s own perceived failures. This idea thus connects fairly well with depressed levels of student interest in figures treated in the natural sciences as indicated in prior analysis. Peters suggests two further dangers of idolization. First, if one eventually reckons with unfortunate historical facts about an exemplar in the faith, one might in the end be tempted to reject the entirety of his/her legacy, potentially losing something precious in consequence.Footnote 75 This trajectory differs from the prior scenario in that it indicates a period of idolization – perhaps attributable to hagiographical instruction – that is ultimately undermined through historical revelation of an idol’s faults, rather than an initial sense of one’s own unworthiness relative to the idolized figure. Second, idolization also can support an unhealthy divisiveness among Christians drawn to the cult of a particular figure, something the Bible warns the faithful against (e.g., 1 Cor. 1:12).Footnote 76 Such divisions cause people to lose sight of the greater truth to which their fidelity belongs. It seems that many disciplines are struggling in an age of historical consciousness with the ambiguous legacies of eminent luminaries, legacies on which their own work clearly rests.
Regarding the other pitfall of demonization, Peters emphasizes several reasons for avoiding it, while also distilling a more balanced approach based on prior analysis. By demonization, he means ‘that deadly disease which scorns the saints by belaboring their infirmities and downplaying their godly virtues’.Footnote 77 One should avoid demonization because it: (i) leads ‘teachers and students to become resentful and malicious towards flawed heroes’; (ii) ‘tends to deaden a person’s ability to perceive his own sin’ and thus undermines a growth in wisdom; (iii) can lead ‘young people to replace godly heroes with ungodly ones’, possibly idolizing them; (iv) ‘causes students to ignore God’s verdict of the godly’, instead relying on some other, worldly logic; and lastly – and relatedly – (v) rests on the notion that one merits salvation or leads one to embrace a view of ‘sinless perfectionism’ in the present life, both of which are false teaching.Footnote 78 In the end, Peters recommends a ‘balanced approach’ that respectfully addresses egregious sins, while also highlighting the good and godly virtues of past figures.Footnote 79 Such an approach does not exclusively dwell on vices, facilitating harsh judgment. Rather, it highlights how Christians today legitimately stand on the shoulders of their forebears who struggled, yet did so in the faith, persevering and contributing richly to what has been received. This balanced approach connects well with Newman’s own theological views treated above in Section 2.
These studies, within religious studies and the natural sciences, both suggest that student engagement and performance might suffer when eminent figures are treated in a manner that highlights merely their achievements, casting them as supra-human luminaries. The failure to incorporate struggle when treating finite, fallible, and fellow human beings comes with numerous potential drawbacks, and the use of balanced struggle stories can serve to increase student engagement and connection. But what of teaching methods that precipitate a form of struggling in the students themselves?
4.2. Manageable confusion
In this sub-section, analysis focuses on the introduction of struggle not necessarily in the lives of historical figures treated in course content, but rather in students themselves. More precisely, numerous studies have suggested that educators can benefit students by facilitating their exposure to manageable confusion. Such confusion ultimately aims to increase participation, responsibility for learning, and both skill acquisition and conceptual understanding, and it is to be distinguished from any approach that overwhelms students or leaves them without a productive recourse and/or guidance from instructors.
In ‘Evoking Students’ Curiosity and Complicating Their Historical Thinking through Manageable, Engaging Confusion’, J. H. Bickford III and M. S. Bickford analyze profitable ways to incorporate confusion in the history classroom.Footnote 80 Their point of departure is the importance of historical thinking and civic involvement, as well as the fundamental insight that the ‘antecedent to discovery’ is confusion, which ‘sparks the motivation to explore and solve mysteries’.Footnote 81 They ‘view a social studies unit as a metaphorical puzzle, with age-appropriate primary and secondary sources as the pieces necessary for assembly’.Footnote 82 However, students do not receive all the requisite pieces, but enough to stoke curiosity that begets further inquiry and assembly. The particular topic they analyzed was the Civil Rights Movement in primary education (through grade 8).
The Bickfords describe the success of a method stoking, but guiding confusion, wherein students negotiate both primary and secondary sources in course content. The students began with multiple secondary sources eventually described as ‘a non-witness’s’ evaluation of an event.Footnote 83 Instruction as well as small-group work allowed students to grasp main points, while detecting differences in the secondary sources, which elicited confusion, questioning, and curiosity. Students then spent several days engaging primary sources; however, the first day involved the most limited set of such sources, with more pieces added daily.Footnote 84 The instructor ensured that the materials were age-appropriate and that the ‘revelation’ of additional pieces helped students realize how important each piece of the puzzle is for full comprehension, as well as raised questions about why certain sources retain or omit information or seem to be merely partial accounts. In other words, the instructor began to cultivate students’ abilities to scrutinize content and detect nuances not immediately available when reading only for comprehension. The instructor guided students throughout their confusion, alleviating it periodically through larger class discussions. ‘Confusion evoked engagement and compelled interpretation’, both of which are understood as a means to a greater end: ‘Synthesis, evaluation, and creation … [the] top three tiers in the pyramid of criticality’.Footnote 85 Regarding synthesis, the educators decided to ask students to create their own timelines of events from scrutinizing the evidence, despite the fact that such timelines are readily available.Footnote 86 Students thus had to interrogate and synthesize – individually and collectively – divergent material and perspectives. In terms of evaluation, students were able to demonstrate a critical appraisal (i.e., by giving clear examples) of how secondary sources utilized primary sources.Footnote 87 Finally, creation entails the generation of new understandings based on the critical work undertaken.Footnote 88
Nancy Quam-Wickham’s study on reconceiving the college introductory US History course suggests the importance of designing a course that does not merely convey content, but – in line with core-curriculum goals – cultivates citizens.Footnote 89 She describes redesigning a course so that students ‘do history’ and take responsibility for the content and themes being engaged.Footnote 90 For this objective and approach to work, Quam-Wickham and colleagues at California State University (Long Beach) assigned intensive group projects featuring individual and collective responsibility and based around key words and themes discovered by the students themselves, as well as questions posed (and answered) by the students on the basis of their investigations. Moreover, these projects were to be utilized in a local high school history class with at-risk students, raising the stakes of students’ work, so to speak.Footnote 91 Quam-Wickham acted as a guide throughout the process, consistently questioning students: ‘Pushing students to refine their projects was essential.’Footnote 92 The method and assessments involved in this redesigned course, therefore, challenge students and require their taking responsibility for course content, introducing manageable confusion.Footnote 93 In an end-of-term, five-page reflective essay, Quam-Wickham ‘challenged students to explain … what they had learned about American History, citizenship, liberty’, and so forth, and they all responded, with most using their projects as evidence.Footnote 94
Both of these historical studies (by Bickford/Bickford and Quam-Wickham) involve challenging students, guiding them through manageable levels of confusion, and asking them to take responsibility for the content being engaged. While the potential relevance of historical pedagogy for catechetical pedagogy might seem clear given the similarity of some course content and methods, other more empirical disciplines, such as mathematics, have also registered the value of manageable confusion and increasing responsibility for students’ growth. In fact, there is evidence that integrating these aspects into math courses is helpful for skills development and conceptual understanding.
A brief overview of the notion of ‘productive struggle’ in two such studies on mathematical pedagogy is helpful for demonstrating the interdisciplinary value of precipitating struggle and introducing manageable confusion in students.Footnote 95 In their landmark study, James Hiebert and Douglas A. Grouws treat the value of struggle in the classroom. They have in mind struggle that involves ‘solving problems that are within reach and grappling with key mathematical ideas that are comprehendible but not yet well formed’, as opposed to ‘needless frustration or extreme levels of challenge created by nonsense or overly difficult problems’.Footnote 96 They contend that ‘engagement of students in struggling or wrestling with important mathematical ideas’ is a critical factor for teaching that ‘consistently facilitates students’ conceptual understanding’.Footnote 97 The reason being that the struggle – individual and collective – by which students persevere through mathematical problems requires the students to relate mathematical facts and build upon prior knowledge. Struggle, therefore, ‘results in restructuring one’s mental connections in more powerful ways’, the result being greater and deeper understanding and knowledge.Footnote 98 Previous ideas and skills are reinforced, connected, and applied in new ways. For this approach to be effective, students have to be challenged ‘within reason’, not overwhelmed, and they ‘must feel a need to resolve a problematic situation and then be allowed “to muddle through”’.Footnote 99 In Principles to Actions: Ensuring Mathematical Success for All (2014), the National Council of Teachers of Mathematics advises teachers to ‘support productive struggle’ in classrooms by adhering to several guidelines.Footnote 100 These involve anticipating lessons in which students are likely to struggle, as well as giving them the time to struggle. Here, teachers are to ask questions designed to help students scaffold their thinking and existing knowledge, but not simply provide answers. Teachers also should sustain their students’ efforts by reminding them that struggling, ‘confusion and errors are a natural part of learning’, while ‘facilitating discussions on mistakes, misconceptions and struggles’, and praising them as they persevere through problems, growing in understanding.Footnote 101 A maxim encapsulating this approach is, ‘it is okay to struggle, but not to give up’. Teachers and fellow students are encouraged to provide helpful direction, but once again not the answers.
A final study by Evi Wusk on adult learners in Lutheran Confirmation classes utilized quantitative and qualitative measures in looking at ways to increase student engagement.Footnote 102 The article incorporates ideas connected to productive struggle and giving students responsibility for learning. While Wusk identifies five themes for increasing engagement, two are especially apropos here. The first involves providing students time and space for asking questions, build on the widely shared sense that ‘a time of intense questioning’ was key to learning one’s faith, an idea perhaps connected Newman’s notions of certainty through struggle.Footnote 103 While this theme did enhance student engagement, Wusk highlights the need for caution, since such spaces can lead a session into uncharted waters outside of the strict control of the instructor, who also needs to be mindful of factors such as class size. For instance, such spaces, when cultivated in small groups, might be very helpful for a class of 15 students, which can then come together for a larger classroom discussion. However, the realization of this theme might need to look very different in a class of 150 students. Instructors must know themselves and the students to some degree.Footnote 104 The second theme is leadership, and it involves tasking students with leadership positions and responsibilities for course content for which the students often feel inadequate and/or unprepared.Footnote 105 This theme can manifest in one’s service as a group leader or presenter to one’s peers or outside groups. The task itself often precipitates struggle and uncertainty, but with support and perseverance, students related that their engagement increased significantly.
This section featured two main lines of inquiry. The first analyzed the importance of balanced approaches to historical figures, especially those who have had a significant influence on the field or subject of inquiry. Research suggests that an excessive focus on such figures’ accomplishments and a failure to incorporate their struggles and humanity ultimately depress student engagement and performance. One of the causal factors here is background beliefs by students regarding such ‘heroes’ and their own feelings of inadequacy. So, while students might positively appraise such figures, they feel disconnected from them given their own experience. The second sub-section looked at the potential value of precipitating manageable confusion and productive struggle in students, in view of increasing their responsibility for engaging and understanding course content. Studies from several cognate disciplines highlight the value of introducing confusion and struggle precisely to generate curiosity. With age-appropriate content, peer collaboration, and instructor guidance, students can individually and collectively augment their existing knowledge, synthesize new content, critically evaluate varied content, and even generate new understanding. These approaches are not without risks, and teachers must be clear-sighted about the abilities of their students, as well as their own. Nevertheless, such interdisciplinary accord and connections regarding struggle bode well for the potential fruitful engagement of this topic in the realm of catechesis and religious education.
5. Conclusion
In responding to Pope Leo’s call for an education aimed at the whole person and openness to updating educational methodologies, this article sought to critically assess the robust religious epistemology of St. John Henry Newman and investigate how cognate disciplines are profitably incorporating conflict and struggle into their curricula. There are intriguing connections between the two sections that are relevant for catechesis.
Because catechesis involves accompaniment that facilitates an interpretation of human life and history, aiming to have the proclamation of the Lord resound in the hearts of all people, prudently incorporating conflict and struggle (in at least two senses) into its content and methods could enrich the faith lives of students. One sense involves the treatment of the church – its major texts, events, figures, and doctrines – throughout history. By acknowledging the faults, failings, conflicts, and struggles of the past, educators might actually increase student engagement, precisely because students will be able to connect their own experience to course content, apprehending realities. This does not mean overly emphasizing or solely focusing on such travails, but rather including them when it might facilitate a recognition of something true. Relatedly, perhaps essentially, catechists must have a cogent account of the past that can accommodate and endure dark episodes and facts. The combination of such a view and forthrightness can lend credence to the church’s self-understanding and doctrinal claims. Examples within catechesis might include saints with problematic histories, or even the controversies and conflicts surrounding ecumenical councils and articles of the Creed. If the church wants the faithful to engage the saints and learn from their patterns of holiness, then hagiography alone is insufficient. Regarding profession of the Creed, perhaps the faithful might better perceive the rich history and reality behind their professions every week at Mass, a history and living tradition to which their complicated lives also belong. Conversely, introducing the conflicts and trials of church history and the saints could very well undermine faith if catechesis does not feature true accompaniment, or if instructors lack sufficient training and resources to frame history so that students can observe the dark without it overcoming the light. Insufficient preparation in this regard might in the end do more harm than good. Further considerations are age-appropriate content and knowledge of one’s audience, including students’ relative abilities.
A second sense involves the acknowledgment that true certainty often follows deep inquiry and struggle. Students exhibiting such inquiry and struggle are, therefore, not necessarily problematic, but potentially on the road to faith, provided they are disposed to walk it and educators are disposed and trained to accompany them. As Pope Leo intimated in his ‘Drawing New Maps of Hope’ letter, this might mean temporarily refraining from delivering a response meant to end conversation and instead learning how to approach and confront problems together, helping learners find handholds and footholds for their faith journeys.Footnote 106 Research in cognate disciplines has relatedly shown the value of introducing manageable confusion so that students increase their skills while developing true understanding of content. Such insights pair well with Newman’s view of apprehension and assent, which are augmented by personal exertion and involvement, but weakened by passivity and perverted by formalism. Even so, catechists ought to take care in discerning whether confusion is in fact unmanageable, or if they have the resources and training to see such lessons through to the end.
Despite the risks involved, this article suggests that conflict and struggle can – and perhaps should – play a role in catechesis, and not merely within students themselves, but as observable in the history and living tradition of the church. How exactly to incorporate conflict and struggle in catechesis is another question beyond the scope of this article, even if the analysis of cognate disciplines unearthed several practical methods. Newman’s words near the outset of his Essay on Development are apropos to conclude this investigation, because they treat Christianity’s manifestation in history, with implications for how we might apprehend and assent to its claims.
But whatever be the risk of corruption from intercourse with the world around, such a risk must be encountered if a great idea is duly to be understood, and much more if it is to be fully exhibited. It is elicited and expanded by trial, and battles into perfection and supremacy …. In time it enters upon strange territory; points of controversy alter their bearing; parties rise and fall around it; dangers and hopes appear in new relations; and old principles reappear under new forms. It changes with them in order to remain the same. In a higher world it is otherwise, but here below to live is to change, and to be perfect is to have changed often.Footnote 107