Archbishop of Sydney

Thomas More

Parliament House Sydney

By + Cardinal George Pell
Archbishop of Sydney
8/6/2006

This year we are celebrating 150 years of responsible government in New South Wales, one of the oldest democracies anywhere in the world.  This is a reason for pride and quiet celebration.

It is my privilege today as Archbishop of Sydney to present to the New South Wales parliament, on behalf of the Catholic community, a beautiful bronze statue of Sir Thomas More, who was born in England in either 1477 or 1478 and was beheaded on Tower Hill in London on July 6, 1535 on the orders of King Henry VIII.

This gift is a recognition of how much all of us owe to our Australian democratic practices and traditions to the Westminster system of government which we have inherited and to our politicians.

I congratulate the sculptor Louis Laumen on capturing More’s spirit and I believe that this beautiful piece will always be a silent but powerful reminder in this place of the need for high principles, service to the truth and, above all, moral courage.

More has been canonized as a saint and martyr and is the patron saint of statesmen and politicians.  Robert Bolt’s play and film called him “A Man for All Seasons” and More contributed significantly in many different areas.

He was a writer and religious controversialist, a lawyer, lecturer and envoy abroad, and with the coronation of Henry VIII he began a brilliant public career.  At the age of 26 he entered parliament and held a succession of offices, becoming Privy Councillor, Knight, Speaker of the House of Commons, high steward both of Oxford University, his alma mater, and Cambridge University and eventually succeeding Cardinal Wolsey as Lord Chancellor in 1529.  But we don’t commemorate and honour him today for those considerable achievements.

Catholics in particular and many others remember Henry VIII as a tyrant who executed many of those closest to him, including some of his wives, and split the Christian Church in England from the Catholic Church, but when he ascended the throne he was seen very differently.  He was young, vigorous, genuinely religious, a good linguist and musician and a friend of the “new learning”.  In fact the English rise to power began with the Tudors, especially under his daughter Elizabeth.  Perhaps the best modern parallel to understand the enthusiasm he generated was the election of J.F. Kennedy as president of United States in 1960.

The first half of the sixteenth century in Europe was an exciting time.  Columbus had not long discovered the Americans and in Italy the Renaissance had produced Da Vinci, Raphael, Michelangelo, and many others as well as the Renaissance popes, often worldlings or worse but great patrons of the arts and of the return of the classics.

More helped bring the Renaissance to England.  He was the friend of scholars such as Grocyn, Colet and especially Erasmus.  “You must be Thomas More or nobody”, Erasmus began at their first meeting, with More replying “And you must be Erasmus or the devil”.  He worked hard to have the study of Greek introduced into Oxford.

It was More who invited Holbein to England, warning him that he might struggle for commissions and it is through Holbein’s magnificent portraits and sketches that we understand Henry’s England so much better.  This sculpture is based on Holbein’s portrait of More now in the Frick Gallery in New York, where it hangs not far from the flat, evil face of Thomas Cromwell, Earl of Essex, also painted by Holbein who consolidated Henry’s power through the suppression of the monasteries, and was also executed by this same king for his pains.

More was brought undone by “the King’s great matter”.  Henry’s wife Catherine of Aragon was unable to produce a son and Henry wanted to marry Anne Boleyn.  For various reasons Pope Clement VII refused to allow the matter to be decided in England and refused to nullify Henry’s first marriage.

More was a cautious lawyer, who mistrusted his own ability to stand by his principles and took refuge in silence, although refusing to attend Anne and Henry’s marriage.  Henry was probably inclined to compromise, at least at the beginning, but Anne was relentless and the stakes were raised to assert Henry’s religious supremacy in England as head of the Church.  On this Thomas would not budge.

Ironically More had originally believed that the popes were a human development and had warned the young Henry against too close an alliance with the papacy.  Ten years of study brought him to the conclusion that the position of the pope as the successor of Peter was divinely ordained.  But once again that particular Catholic conviction is not the reason we honour Sir Thomas More in this place.

We are paying tribute to More’s courage to his adherence to principle, to his opposition to tyranny.  He did this with few companions and little support.  Only one bishop, John Fisher of Rochester shared his view about the importance of the pope, while most Catholics thought he had exaggerated things badly.  His favourite daughter, Meg Roper, together with all his family believed his sacrifices were unnecessary.  Even more poignantly during his entire lifetime there were only a couple of popes who aspired to religious respectability and the papacy became ruthlessly secularized.  It was these excesses which provoked Luther and the Protestant Reformation.

More was a man of his times and the title of saint does not imply life long perfection.  He regarded heretics as small “l” liberals today regard racists, while going further so that during his time as chancellor six Protestants were executed.  We thank God that we have moved past such excesses.

More was a serious follower of Christ throughout his life, a clear example of an outstanding citizen nourished and inspired by religious principle.  His Dialogue of Comfort against Tribulation, written during his 15 months in the Tower is a beautiful expression of faith and a support and comfort for all who are suffering.

More was a loyal friend, and had many friends.  He was a good family man with an unusual sense of humour.  He had style to go with his substance.

In his own final words at the scaffold “I die the King’s good servant, but God’s first”.  And he had lived as he died.