Commemorating the Anniversary of Pope Benedict XVI’s Address to Catholic Educators on April 17, 2008
A collection of essays on the renewal of Catholic higher education by Most Rev. David Ricken, Msgr. Stuart Swetland, Rev. J. Augustine DiNoia, Rev. Joseph Koterski, Rev. David O’Connell, and Dr. John Hittinger with a foreword by The Hon. Kenneth Whitehead
Dedicated to His Holiness, Pope Benedict XVI with gratitude for his vision for Catholic higher education
Table of Contents
Introduction
Foreword
by The Honorable Kenneth D. Whitehead
Former U.S. Assistant Secretary of Education for Postsecondary Education
Catholic Higher Education in the United States: A Modern Retrospective
by Very Rev. David M. O’Connell, C.M.
President of The Catholic University of America, Washington, D.C.
The Restoration of a Catholic ‘Idea of a University’
by Most Rev. David L. Ricken
Bishop of the Diocese of Green Bay, Wisconsin
Vatican II, Evangelization and Catholic Higher Education
by Dr. John P. Hittinger
Professor of Philosophy at University of St. Thomas, Houston, Texas
Taking a Catholic View on Academic Freedom
by Rev. Joseph W. Koterski, S.J.
Associate Professor of Philosophy at Fordham University, New York
Communion and the Ecclesial Vocation of the Theologian in Catholic Higher Education
by Very Rev. J. Augustine DiNoia, O.P.
Undersecretary of the Vatican Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith
Catholic Campus Ministry: Christocentric Accompaniment
by Rev. Msgr. Stuart Swetland
Vice President for Catholic Identity at Mount Saint Mary’s University, Emmitsburg, Maryland
Appendix
Address to Catholic Educators at The Catholic University of America
His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI
Introduction
One year ago, Pope Benedict XVI invited the presidents of U.S. Catholic colleges and universities, as well as diocesan education leaders, to an address at The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C. This book commemorates that momentous event on April 17, 2008. Consistent with Pope Benedict’s key themes, our distinguished authors share insights and recommendations to advance the renewal of Catholic higher education in fidelity to the Holy Father’s vision.
But in considering the future of Catholic higher education, it is impossible to ignore the past. “How did we get here?” is a question essential to determining how most American Catholic colleges and universities overcome their bland conformity to secular norms for curriculum, campus life, governance, and academic freedom.
Our authors embrace the shared vision of Pope Benedict XVI and Pope John Paul II in stark contrast to the manifesto that American Catholic university leaders embraced more than forty years earlier. The 1967 Land O’Lakes Statement, “The Nature of the Contemporary University,” sought to redefine Catholic higher education while weakening its association with the Catholic Church. The Church’s response to the Land O’Lakes Statement has become increasingly clear: a Catholic university necessarily recognizes the doctrinal and pastoral authority of the bishops, it affirms faculty responsibilities as well as rights connected to academic freedom, and it concerns itself with the whole development of the student both inside and outside the classroom.
Father David O’Connell, president of The Catholic University of America, hosted Pope Benedict for his address last year. Father O’Connell himself has contributed substantially to the American understanding of authentic Catholic higher education and has presided over welcome improvements at his institution, often called “the bishops’ university.” He offers much insight as he looks back upon the modern history of Catholic academia, all with an appreciation for “how far Catholic higher education has come in this country” and confidence in the future guided by Pope Benedict’s vision.
Bishop David Ricken, on whose initiative one of the newest and most intriguing Catholic institutions—Wyoming Catholic College—was established, looks to the future. He has little regard for the recent past of Catholic higher education; the Land O’Lakes Statement, he writes, “precipitated a revolution in Catholic higher education that amounted to heresy and schism.” But he does have a clear idea of what Catholic colleges and universities should do to help develop “the whole person—mind, body, heart, and soul,” with compliments to Pope Benedict and his statements in April 2008.
John Hittinger turns the “spirit of Vatican II” mentality on its head—and does so with a thorough, literal reading of the documents of the Second Vatican Council as they apply to the nature of Catholic higher education. Fundamental to Catholic education, writes Dr. Hittinger, is evangelization. It’s a lesson that challenges the basic assumptions of many Catholic educators today and goes to the heart of secularization.
The near-limitless boundaries of “academic freedom” in American academia are sacrosanct, even among Catholic educators who should know better. Certainly aware of the transgression, Pope John Paul II responsibly defined academic freedom in Ex corde Ecclesiae, the 1990 apostolic constitution on Catholic universities, and Pope Benedict XVI pointedly explained that “any appeal to the principle of academic freedom in order to justify positions that contradict the faith and the teaching of the Church would obstruct or even betray the university’s identity and mission.” With the wisdom of an accomplished philosopher and the clarity of a teacher, Father Joseph Koterski helps us navigate the “dialectical relation between truth and freedom.”
Father Augustine DiNoia is one of America’s leading doctrinal authorities, and his discussion of the theology of “communion” in Catholic higher education is essential to moving beyond the errors of the Land O’Lakes period. Father DiNoia considers communion with relation to the essential role of the Catholic theologian at a Catholic college or university—making the point that dissent prevents the possibility of genuine theology. He also addresses the mandatum for theologians, a requirement of Canon Law that remains a point of contention in the United States.
Monsignor Stuart Swetland earned a national reputation for his outstanding work as a campus minister at large secular universities, and now he oversees the Catholic identity of Mount St. Mary’s University in Maryland. Not only does he make a convincing argument for the approach that pastoral ministers should apply to their work with contemporary students, but even Father Swetland’s writing style conveys his commitment to “accompanying” the reader or the student on their journey to the truth—nothing that can be learned in the classroom alone, but by developing a genuine love for Jesus Christ and His Church.
The key to understanding Catholic higher education, then, is found in Pope Benedict’s call to center all activities on Christ.
“A university or school’s Catholic identity is not simply a question of the number of Catholic students,” Pope Benedict said. “It is a question of conviction—do we really believe that only in the mystery of the Word made flesh does the mystery of man truly become clear? Are we ready to commit our entire self—intellect and will, mind and heart—to God?”
Like Christ’s challenge to the wealthy man to give up everything and follow Him, the Holy Father’s proposal allows for two responses from Catholic educators: turn away in despair, or claim the inheritance that God has set aside for those who lead young souls to Him. Ultimately this book gives one hope that the mistakes of the past can be washed away, and the renaissance of genuine Catholic higher education in the United States has already begun.
Foreword
The Honorable Kenneth D. Whitehead
On July 23, 1967, at a meeting in Land O’Lakes, Wisconsin, twenty-six leaders of Catholic higher education representing some ten Catholic colleges and universities in the United States of America issued what became known as the Land O’Lakes Statement. This statement, officially titled “The Nature of the Contemporary University,” declared that:
The Catholic University today must be a university in the full modern sense of the word, with strong commitment to and concern for academic excellence. To perform its teaching and research function effectively, the Catholic University must have a true autonomy and academic freedom in the face of authority of whatever kind, lay or clerical, external to the academic community itself. To say this is simply to assert that institutional autonomy and academic freedom are essential conditions for life and growth and indeed of survival for Catholic universities as for all universities.
Although the few Catholic educators who signed this Land O’Lakes Statement had no mandate to speak for Catholic higher education, their Statement nevertheless turned out to be surprisingly influential, and for many years it enjoyed near “official” status as describing what many had come to think the Catholic university ought to be today. The Statement both articulated some of the reasons for and encouraged the rapid secularization that was taking place on many Catholic college and university campuses from the late 1960s on. For the next few decades, the Catholic identity of many Catholic colleges and universities was either ravaged or, in most cases, simply regarded as a very low priority.
It now appears that the long winter has given way to an emergent but reliable thaw. It began with Pope John Paul II and his 1990 apostolic constitution Ex corde Ecclesiae, although at the time one could hardly have expected positive results, given the immediate, out-of-hand rejection of the Vatican’s expectations by many Catholic educators. It was confirmed by Pope Benedict XVI in his address to educators at The Catholic University of America on April 17, 2009, which this book commemorates. Although the hard work of renewing authentic Catholic identity at many of America’s institutions remains undone, the Holy Father was clearly aware that the time was right to present a vision for Catholic higher education that moves far beyond the minimal expectations of Ex corde Ecclesiae. It was a clear signal of the progress that has been made in nearly twenty years—in no small part due to the example of those colleges and universities that stayed true to the Church, as well as the attention of the Vatican and the U.S. bishops to the need for education reform.
But the times were much different in 1967, and the signers of the Land O’Lakes Statement very likely believed they had established a new, permanent direction for Catholic higher education. The Statement represented a virtual declaration of independence from the Church for those institutions that came to accept it. Unfortunately, many Catholic colleges and universities did come to accept it, especially in and through the Association of Catholic Colleges and Universities (ACCU). They accepted it because it justified many of the measures they were taking to secularize their institutions by modifying or dropping many features that had formerly marked an institution as “Catholic.”
The principal idea behind the Land O’Lakes Statement lay in its assertion that the Catholic university must be a university “in the full modern sense of the word.” The leaders of what amounted to an institutional revolt by them against the Catholic Church saw themselves as adopting a modern, secular “model” of a university as the only model of what it was to be a university. If an institution was not such a modern, secularized university, then the implication was that it was not a true university at all. Being relegated to this status was not a fate most Catholic educators wanted to risk.
While the Catholic Church beginning in medieval times had encouraged the founding of the first universities and, indeed, in a true sense could be said to have actually “invented” the very idea of a university, those days were long ago and no longer counted. What those who accepted the Land O’Lakes Statement apparently wanted was full acceptance by the American secular academic establishment. They wanted to be accepted as being on a par with secular institutions, without the baggage, as they considered it, of any odd or embarrassing or moralistic “Catholic” encumbrances. Certainly it was thought that there was no way any truly “modern” university could continue to be “subservient” to an authoritarian Church, for example.
From that day to this, the administrations and faculties of most Catholic institutions, hewing to the Land O’Lakes line, have consistently played down or eschewed specific Catholic policies, practices, or commitments seen as incompatible with the modern secular institutional model. At the same time, they have continued to insist that they are still fully “Catholic.” According to them, their Catholic identity was in no way attenuated or diminished just because, for example, they dropped prayers or chapel requirements, removed crucifixes from classroom walls, abandoned the idea that a critical mass of the faculty ought to profess the Catholic faith, ceased attempting to teach academic subjects in the light of Catholic truth, and eschewed acting in loco parentis as far as their students were concerned.
What everybody had formerly understood to be Protestant “private judgment” was now suddenly taken by the Land O’Lakers to be some new kind of “Catholic” norm: they would henceforth decide, not the Church, what rightly belonged to Catholic higher education, and what could conveniently be downgraded or dropped.
They also continued to belong to the Association of Catholic Colleges and Universities as if nothing were amiss in the way of their Catholic identity. The ACCU leadership, meanwhile, over many years, itself followed and championed the Land O’Lakes line and steadily opposed all episcopal or Roman efforts to reinforce or restore policies or practices deemed essential by the Church to an authentic Catholic identity.
One of the principal reasons for the almost instant wide acceptance of the Land O’Lakes Statement within Catholic higher education was the idea that the Statement had ostensibly derived from secular American academic practice, namely, that to be a university in the true sense a school must enjoy “institutional autonomy” and “academic freedom.” However, the near absolutist way in which these two features had come to be understood by most Catholic educators made it difficult if not impossible for the Church to require any real Catholic discipline or to guarantee the integrity of her teachings as presented by theological and other faculties.
As for “institutional autonomy,” properly understood, it is an essential characteristic of any true institution of higher learning, and the Church strongly affirms it; she does not claim, and has never claimed, that universities must be directly operated or managed as a part of or within the Church’s own structure. But it is false that modern secular American universities enjoy the kind of total independence from any authority “external to the academic community itself” which the Land O’Lakes Statement implies they enjoy. American colleges and universities are subject to and regularly answer to a myriad of “authorities” external to themselves, whether federal, state, or local laws and ordinances pertaining to higher education, or the requirements of boards of trustees or regents, accrediting agencies, scholarly, scientific, professional, athletic, faculty, and alumni associations and societies, not to speak of the often stringent requirements imposed on them by legislatures, foundations, and other funding agencies. Secular modern American universities typically today even “answer to” outside “politically correct” pressure groups. So there was never anything inappropriate about independent Catholic institutions answering to Catholic authority insofar as the universities claim a Catholic identity and teach in accord with Catholic doctrine.
As for “academic freedom,” the Catholic Church affirms it when properly understood—although the Church does insist that academic freedom “must be preserved within the confines of truth and the common good” (Ex corde Ecclesiae, 12). Yet the signers of and adherents to the Land O’Lakes Statement appear to understand the term as the near absolute right claimed today by many secular academics. The description of it in the Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences is often cited as authoritative: “Academic freedom is the freedom of the teacher or research worker in higher institutions of learning to investigate and discuss the problems of his science and to express his conclusions, whether through publication or in the instruction of students, without interference from political or ecclesiastical authority” (emphasis added).
This definition makes the freedom and rights of professors or teachers almost absolute, while the corresponding freedom of churches or other sponsoring institutions to set up, operate, and control their own colleges and universities, as well as the freedom and rights of students and their parents to be assured that the education being imparted is within an announced religious or creedal framework, is simply cancelled out by the supposed academic freedom of professors to do or say what they please. Acceptance of this definition of academic freedom quite simply abolishes the right of the Church to insist that subjects be taught in a Catholic institution in accordance with the truths of the Catholic faith.
The Church was initially slow in responding to the challenge posed by the Land O’Lakes Statement. In 1972 the International Federation of Catholic Universities (IFCU) adopted a document setting forth “the essential characteristics of a Catholic university,” which were incorporated into the revised Code of Canon Law promulgated by Pope John Paul II in 1983. The canons affirm the right of the Church to sponsor universities (Canon 807); require that no university may bear the label “Catholic” without the permission of the competent ecclesiastical authority, namely, the bishop (Canon 808); insure the autonomy of the university while upholding the integrity of Catholic doctrine (Canon 809); stipulate that scholars and teachers may be removed if they fail to meet the Church’s doctrinal and moral standards (Canon 810); and require that those who teach theology in any Catholic university must have a mandate (mandatum) from ecclesiastical authority, again the local bishop (Canon 812).
The ACCU, as well as many of the heads of Catholic colleges, vehemently opposed these canons during the drafting of the new Code. A delegation of American bishops actually went to Rome to lobby against them. Following the promulgation of the Code, the Canon Law Society of America prepared a commentary suggesting that these canons were not applicable in the United States. They were not, in fact, implemented here.
The Holy See responded on August 15, 1990, with Pope John Paul II’s apostolic constitution Ex corde Ecclesiae. Besides being a beautiful description of everything that a Catholic university should be, ECE includes some twenty-five general norms which, among other things, insist that a truly Catholic university is necessarily linked to the Church and is subject to episcopal oversight, especially in the doctrinal and moral areas. Following a period of intense opposition from many American educators, the U.S. bishops, in November 1999, approved an application of ECE which came into force in June 2001. Another document implementing the theological mandatum requirement was approved by the bishops a year later.
With the enactment of these episcopal ordinances, it could finally be said that the U.S. bishops, after more than forty years, had resumed their proper proprietorship over the definition of the term “Catholic university.” It was never anything but a huge anomaly that a group of self-appointed Catholic educators meeting in Land O’Lakes, Wisconsin, should have presumed to be able to redefine this term. But for a long time, it seemed they had succeeded.
The Church has a long road to travel before Catholic higher education is fully back in the fold. The habitual opposition of scholars continues in many places and many Catholic colleges and universities are not fully in compliance with Ex corde Ecclesiae. What is clear, however, is the direction in which things are moving. The restoration of the true definition of the term “Catholic university” by Church authority marked the formal end of the Land O’Lakes era. It is the fidelity and creative leadership of a new generation of educators and leaders—including those whose valuable work is featured in this collection—that point the way forward.
Kenneth D. Whitehead, Ph.D., is a former U.S. Assistant Secretary of Postsecondary Education in the Reagan Administration. Among the more than one dozen books that he has authored or co-authored is Catholic Colleges and Federal Funding (Ignatius, 1987).
Catholic Higher Education in the United States: A Modern Retrospective
Very Rev. David M. O’Connell, C.M.
One year ago (April 17, 2008), Pope Benedict XVI arrived on the campus of The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C., to deliver a much anticipated address to Catholic college and university presidents and diocesan education administrators. As president of The Catholic University of America, I was honored to be his host that day.
Although some observers predicted a “pontifical spanking” for those gathered, the Holy Father’s speech was anything but that. In carefully planned and beautifully delivered remarks, Pope Benedict XVI both praised and encouraged Catholic educators for their great service to the Church in our country. At the same time, he presented a vision of and for Catholic education that was clear and compelling:
Education is integral to the mission of the Church to proclaim the Good News. First and foremost every Catholic educational institution is a place to encounter the living God who in Jesus Christ reveals his transforming love and truth (cf. Spe Salvi, 4). This relationship elicits a desire to grow in the knowledge and understanding of Christ and his teaching. In this way those who meet him are drawn by the very power of the Gospel to lead a new life characterized by all that is beautiful, good, and true; a life of Christian witness nurtured and strengthened within the community of our Lord’s disciples, the Church.
With respect to the meaning of Catholic identity, the pontiff observed:
Clearly, then, Catholic identity is not dependent upon statistics. Neither can it be equated simply with orthodoxy of course content. It demands and inspires much more: namely that each and every aspect of your learning communities reverberates within the ecclesial life of faith. Only in faith can truth become incarnate and reason truly human, capable of directing the will along the path of freedom (cf. Spe Salvi, 23). In this way our institutions make a vital contribution to the mission of the Church and truly serve society. They become places in which God’s active presence in human affairs is recognized and in which every young person discovers the joy of entering into Christ’s “being for others” (cf. ibid., 28).
He also presented an insightful and instructive understanding of academic freedom, born from his own experience as a university professor and, now, as Chief Shepherd and Teacher in the Church:
In regard to faculty members at Catholic colleges and universities, I wish to reaffirm the great value of academic freedom. In virtue of this freedom you are called to search for the truth wherever careful analysis of evidence leads you. Yet it is also the case that any appeal to the principle of academic freedom in order to justify positions that contradict the faith and the teaching of the Church would obstruct or even betray the university’s identity and mission; a mission at the heart of the Church’s munus docendi and not somehow autonomous or independent of it.
His address was well-received and deeply appreciated. As I sat there, listening to Pope Benedict, I could not help but reflect how far Catholic higher education has come in this country in the past more than half-century.
Doubting the Catholic university
In 1955, Monsignor John Tracy Ellis, professor of Church history at The Catholic University of America, wrote a scathing criticism of the quality of American Catholic intellectual life in a paper that he delivered at the annual meeting of the Catholic Commission on Intellectual and Cultural Affairs in St. Louis. In his presentation, later published in the Fordham University journal Thought, Ellis gave voice to the belief noted in a popular text of his day on American institutions that
… in no western society is the intellectual prestige of Catholicism lower than in the country where, in such respects as wealth, numbers, and strength of organization, it is so powerful.
Ellis went on to observe that:
No well-informed American Catholic in this country will attempt to challenge that statement. Admittedly, the weakest aspect of the Church in this country lies in its failure to produce national leaders and to exercise commanding influence in intellectual circles, and this at a time when the numbers of Catholics in the United States… and their material resources are incomparably superior to those of any other branch of the universal Church.
Ellis presented these ideas over fifty years ago. If his stinging indictment were considered to be true at that time or up to that time, we should wonder why. Much of the fault, I believe, lay not so much in a fear that Catholic scholars demonstrated for Church authorities as some have argued but, rather, in a fear of the judgments of their secular academic counterparts. The lack of courage to present the teachings of the Church with conviction in their inherent truth within a broader scholarly community evidenced a not-too-subtle belief among our own Catholic scholars that religious faith and scholarly activity based upon it was an embarrassment that relegated Catholic intellectuals to a second-class status. Faith, after all, was considered in the secular arena to be the true enemy of reason in an “enlightened” intellectual world.
There was, no one can honestly doubt, an anti-Catholic prejudice at work in the United States from the time of its foundation and a genuine hostility “to all things Catholic,” as Monsignor Ellis noted. Even Harvard professor Arthur M. Schlesinger, Sr., once labeled “bias against your Church as the most persistent prejudice in the history of the American people.” For that reason, among others, much of the energy within the American Catholic community in general and the American Catholic professorate in particular during the late 19th and early 20th centuries was devoted to “apologetics” rather than pure scholarly endeavor. The audience to which they made their appeals was largely an immigrant population that did not place primary value on Catholic intellectual advancement let alone creating great Catholic institutions of higher learning. One needs look no further than the history of The Catholic University of America to verify that assertion.
The concept of a national Catholic research university was hotly debated within the American hierarchy itself. And, yet, although visible efforts were made by many within the Catholic academy to promote Catholic higher education as their existing colleges expanded into universities, as late as 1938 the challenge was presented to the Church and Catholic scholars that “research cannot be the primary object of a Catholic graduate school because it is at war with the whole Catholic life of the mind.” American Catholic “universities” were popularly viewed as concerned not so much with the penetration of truth as they were with passing on a given tradition of truth, the Catholic tradition, in which little in the way of addition, alteration, or development was deemed necessary. It was an unfortunate perception that higher education within the American Catholic academic community was an “either/or” proposition rather than “both/and.”
When Ellis authored his now famous essay, he had no idea that a Vatican Council would soon be convened to address the situation of the Church in the modern world. The pope who would call for that council was still the cardinal archbishop of Venice. When he assumed the papacy in the fall of 1958 and a year later announced the 21st ecumenical council, Pope John XXIII would usher in a new era in the history of the Catholic Church and with it, a new urgency to reform its structures and institutions throughout the world. Catholic higher education was not spared the effects of this “aggiornamento.”
In his apostolic constitution Humanae salutis convening the Council, Pope John XXIII wrote that the Church at that moment was:
…witnessing a crisis under way within society. While humanity is on the edge of a new era, tasks of immense gravity and amplitude await the Church, as in its most tragic periods of history. It is a question in fact of bringing the modern world into contact with the vivifying and perennial energies of the gospel, a world which exalts itself with its conquests in the technical and scientific fields, but which brings also the consequences of a temporal order which some have wished to reorganize excluding God. This is why modern society is earmarked by a great material progress to which there is no corresponding advance in the moral field.
The Holy Father addressed the hierarchy gathered in Council on October 11, 1962, stating that “the greatest concern of the Ecumenical Council is this: that the sacred deposit of Christian doctrine should be guarded and taught more efficaciously.” Notice the phrase “guarded and taught!”
That concern, as it related to Catholic institutions of higher learning, had been voiced some thirty-one years earlier by Pope Pius XI in his apostolic constitution Deus Scientiarum Dominus where he wrote that the Church’s chief concern in all of Catholic education had always been the correct teaching of doctrine. Anyone well acquainted with Church teaching and its development in history could hardly argue that this process was ever or could ever be legitimately envisioned as a static enterprise.
Defining the Catholic university
The Fathers of the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965) dealt specifically with the broad topic of formal Catholic education in their 1965 declaration Gravissimum educationis. It has been said that the underlying concern of the Council was “education,” “Catholic education” in one form or another. The situation of Catholic universities and colleges received specific attention. The declaration stated that:
The Church is preoccupied too with schools of higher learning, especially colleges and universities and their faculties. In schools of this sort which are dependent upon her, she seeks in a systematic way to have individual branches of knowledge studied according to their own proper principles and methods, and with due freedom of scientific investigation. She intends thereby to promote an ever deeper understanding of these fields, and as a result of extremely precise evaluation of modern problems and inquiries, to have it seen more profoundly how faith and reason give harmonious witness to the unity of all truth. The Church pursues such a goal after the manner of her most illustrious teachers, especially St. Thomas Aquinas. The hoped-for result is that the Christian mind may achieve, as it were, a public, persistent, and universal presence in the whole enterprise of advancing higher culture, and that students of these institutions may become men (and women) truly outstanding in learning, ready to shoulders society’s heavier burdens and to witness the faith to the world.
One should notice the emphasis given here to proper disciplinary methodology, due freedom of inquiry, growth in understanding, students outstanding in learning, advancing higher culture and witness to faith.
During the years immediately following the Second Vatican Council, Catholic universities and colleges throughout the world engaged in an effort to define their nature and mission in the Church and world more clearly. That process witnessed the eager participation of members of the American Catholic academy, chastised as they had been by Monsignor Ellis over ten years earlier.
In 1967, a gathering of Catholic educators in Land O’Lakes, Wisconsin, sponsored by the International Federation of Catholic Universities (IFCU) produced a document that set forth its own credo on the nature of Catholic colleges and universities:
The Catholic university today must be a university in the full modern sense of the word, with a strong commitment to and concern for academic excellence. To perform its teaching and research function effectively, the Catholic university must have a true autonomy and academic freedom in the face of authority of whatever kind, lay or clerical external to the academic community itself. To say this is simply to assert that institutional autonomy and academic freedom are essential conditions of life and growth and indeed of survival for Catholic universities as for all universities. The Catholic university participates in the total life of our time, has the same functions as all other true universities and, in general, offers the same services to society.
Notice the emphasis given to authority “external to the academic community itself.” The stage was now set for what would become a decades-long effort to resolve growing contemporary tensions between the teaching Church and Catholic institutions of higher learning that existed in a variety of forms within its embrace in the post-conciliar era. Other international meetings would continue to occur but nowhere, at least in my opinion, were these tensions as keenly felt as within the American Catholic academic community.
The controversy surrounding the publication of Pope Paul VI’s encyclical Humanae Vitae in 1968, again in my opinion, distracted educators from the process of addressing the issue of the nature and purpose of Catholic institutions of higher education. In the minds of some, however, especially in the United States, Humanae Vitae was precisely the type of Church teaching that provided a timely example with which to frame the debate. Dissent over this encyclical crystallized the polarization between the faithful presentation and teaching of Church doctrine that Pope John XXIII saw as the “greatest concern” of the Council he convened and “the true autonomy and academic freedom in the face of authority of whatever kind” that was the mantra of those who subscribed to the assertions of the Land O’Lakes manifesto. In many respects, The Catholic University of America at the time was the epicenter of the storm.
In 1972, at the invitation of the Holy See and IFCU, Catholic universities and colleges were invited to send delegates to an international congress in Rome, the second such gathering in Rome since Land O’Lakes. Their deliberations resulted in a document, “The Catholic University in the Modern World,” which accomplished two major things:
- it defined six basic types of Catholic post-secondary institutions that existed within the Church:
- those directly established by ecclesiastical authorities and those which were not;
- those with statutory relationships to ecclesiastical authorities and those which had none;
- those with a formal, explicit commitment to Church teaching and beliefs and those whose commitment was merely implicit.
- it also provided a framework for Catholic identity and mission later cited by Pope John Paul II in his apostolic constitution Ex corde Ecclesiae.
Responding to this document, the Prefect of the Congregation for Catholic Education at that time, Cardinal Gabriel Marie Garrone, wrote that although the statement envisioned the existence of Catholic institutions of higher learning without formally established or statutory links to ecclesiastical authority, Catholic institutions should not consider themselves removed from those relationships with the hierarchical structures of the Church which must characterize institutions that call themselves Catholic. A clear point of difference with the Land O’Lakes statement!
Ten years later, the revised 1983 Code of Canon Law, also mandated by Pope John XXIII along with the Second Vatican Council at the beginning of his papacy in 1959, introduced
specific legislation intended to address all Catholic colleges and universities, those canonically dependent upon the Church as well as others that claimed a Catholic foundation, character, and purpose but which lacked an explicit canonical establishment. Pope John Paul II had already addressed the former type of institution before the new Code appeared in his apostolic constitution Sapientia Christiana (April 15, 1979). It should be noted that the overwhelming majority of Catholic universities and colleges in the United States were of the latter variety. Needless to say, the provisions of the new Code received a chilly reception within the American Catholic academic community.
Magna Carta for Catholic higher education
Himself a Catholic university professor, Pope John Paul II evidenced a great concern for Catholic institutions of higher learning. Following on the heels of both Sapientia Christiana and the 1983 Code of Canon Law, the Holy Father published a second apostolic constitution in 1990 intended to address Catholic universities and colleges that were not ecclesiastical in nature. Ex corde Ecclesiae (August 15, 1990) was, in my opinion, the beginning of the “great thaw” in “the winter of our discontent.”
While not original in the sense that they first appeared in a 1972 document “The Catholic University in the Modern World” produced by the Second International Congress of Delegates of Catholic Universities referred to earlier, the observations of Pope John Paul II summarized what he considered the “bottom line” for Catholic institutions of higher learning. These “essential characteristics” are particularly significant not only because the Holy Father made them his own in Ex corde Ecclesiae but also because they are the reflections of a body of international Catholic educators that helped make the case for a strengthening of the meaning of Catholic identity in Catholic post-secondary academic institutions. Pope John Paul II wrote that:
Since the objective of a Catholic university is to assure in an institutional manner a Christian presence in the university world confronting the great problems of society and culture, every Catholic university as Catholic, must have the following essential characteristics:
- Christian inspiration not only of individuals but of the university community as such;
- A continuing reflection in the light of the Catholic faith upon the growing treasury of human knowledge, to which it seeks to contribute by its own research;
- Fidelity to the Christian message as it comes to us through the Church;
- An institutional commitment to the service of the people of God and of the human family in their pilgrimage to the transcendent goal which gives meaning to life.
To assist in providing that assurance, the Holy Father noted, perhaps in part an answer to “Land O’Lakes” and other responses of similar kind:
Every Catholic University, without ceasing to be a university, has a relationship to the Church that is essential to its institutional identity. …One consequence of its essential relationship to the Church is that the institutional fidelity of the university to the Christian message includes a recognition of and adherence to the teaching authority of the Church in matters of faith and morals. Catholic members of the university community are also called to a personal fidelity to the Church with all that this implies. Non-Catholic members are required to respect the Catholic character of the university, while the university in turn respects their religious liberty.
With the deftness and insight that have characterized his pontificate and all his writings, drawing upon extraordinary human experiences including that of being a university professor, Pope John Paul II provided in Ex corde Ecclesiae a “magna carta” for Catholic higher education throughout the Church, including the United States. Calling for a clearly recognizable relationship between Catholic colleges and universities and the universal and local church in which they exist, the Holy Father has wisely required that these institutions “operationalize” their Catholic identity through the assistance of a formal, juridical association with the Church. This juridical dimension and its accompanying call for greater accountability to the Church, unfortunately for some, dominated the discussions that would follow within the American Catholic academic community. I say “unfortunately” because the text and substance of the Holy Father’s apostolic constitution—recognized by many, including those outside of the Catholic academic community, as a magnificent exposition of the unique mission of Catholic higher education—have often been reduced by some to a mere set of legal norms.
When the constitution appeared in its final form, after three drafts and the widest, most extensive public consultations to accompany any Church document, it was generally well received in America. Bishops and Catholic educators in the United States appeared appreciative of the opportunities afforded them by the Congregation for Catholic Education to be involved in its formulation. Some hesitation still lingered in these and other circles with respect to the idea of any juridic norms at all—general or particular—but the prevailing sentiment seemed to be that “there was little to cause anxiety and much to enable and inspire” those involved in Catholic higher education.
For the better part of the past fifteen years, the bishops and the Catholic academic community in the United States have been engaged in a dialogue regarding the regional application or implementation of the constitution required in its “General Norms.” Here again, several drafts and extensive consultations have accompanied the entire process.
From the beginning, two important presuppositions regarding the outcome of the process have been present: (1) that the application document would include juridic norms; and (2) that the application document would be the product of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops or NCCB (now, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops or USCCB) as an episcopal document.
Although these “understandings” were present, their implications were not always clearly appreciated, even among the bishops. One could legitimately claim that they were often avoided or ignored in the hopes they would simply “go away.” In the months immediately preceding the 1999 NCCB meeting, these elements seemed to be all but forgotten, especially within Catholic academic circles. Discussions among Catholic university presidents for which I was present were openly hostile to the idea of episcopal juridic implementation.
The NCCB established an Implementation Committee of bishops in 1991, and several Catholic university presidents were invited to participate as consultors to the committee. An application document was developed, circulated for consultation, revised, approved by the NCCB with a vote of 224-6 on November 16, 1996, and forwarded to the Holy See for the recognitio required by canon law. The Congregation for Catholic Education praised the application but indicated that it needed further juridic refinement, especially with respect to Canon 812’s provision regarding the mandate to teach theological disciplines, before it could be passed on to the Congregation for Bishops.
Although the Holy See’s critique was not well received in the United States, the NCCB Implementation Committee set out to respond positively to the Vatican request. A subcommittee was created in 1997 and revised drafts of an application document were developed and circulated in 1998 and 1999 respectively, again accompanied by extensive consultations. A strong argument was made in the Catholic and secular press by critics of the application, including several university presidents and even some bishops, that its provisions would yield “disastrous” results for Catholic universities and colleges in the United States if approved. Concerns were voiced that the new text was, at best, risky and, at worst, destructive of whatever progress had been made in the ongoing dialogue about Catholic identity that had been occurring among bishops and Catholic educators since Ex corde Ecclesiae was first issued in 1990.
Anyone participating in American Catholic academic life since the Code of Canon Law was revised and promulgated in 1983 has heard these concerns before. In fact, some of the more controversial elements now found in the document of implementation known as The Application are already contained in canon law’s treatment of “Catholic Universities and Other Institutes of Higher Studies (807-814),” although they were deemed by educators and some canonists as doubtfully applicable in the American Catholic academic context. Similarly, as Ex corde Ecclesiae progressed through its own draft stages in the late 1980s, these same concerns surfaced again.
It would be a mistake to separate The Application as it currently exists from the constitution itself. The “General Norms” accompanying Ex corde Ecclesiae require “local and regional” implementation of the constitution. A very concerted effort was made by those concerned with drafting The Application to insure that this text remained directly focused on the constitution, its exhortations and canonical provisions. In fact, several Catholic university presidents explicitly made that recommendation, myself included, during the consultation. Hence, what is required as normative in the resulting juridic text must always be viewed through the broader lens of the constitution itself for accurate interpretation and implementation.
It would equally be a mistake to separate the constitution and The Application from “the teaching of Vatican II and the directives of the Code of Canon Law” upon which it is based, as Pope John Paul II himself has stated.Ex corde Ecclesiae, he wrote, “was enriched by the long and fruitful experience of the Church in the realm of universities and open to the promise of future achievements that will require courageous creativity and rigorous fidelity.” In the minds of some, these two concepts—courageous creativity and rigorous fidelity—can make strange, even difficult bedfellows. I certainly do not believe that to be the case.
Hope and vision for the future
Apart from a few members of a vanishing generation of Catholic academics, there has been no revolt as had been predicted. In fact, Catholic institutions of higher learning in this country have been unusually quiet given recent history. Catholic universities and colleges continue to possess what the Church has called a “rightful” autonomy and a “legitimate” academic freedom. There have been no major legal battles as had been predicted and the allegedly adverse financial consequences have been exposed as myths. We have witnessed no “pastoral disaster” as one bishop claimed or anything even slightly problematic.
And Catholic teaching continues to be faithfully presented in our institutions by those who are faithful, although it is still challenged by some who view faith and reason at odds. I doubt very much that we will ever make converts of them, no matter what is said or done. The rigorous fidelity of their peers, a new generation of creative Catholic intellectuals and students seeking the truth, and, ultimately, time itself will work together toward the long hoped for renewal in Catholic higher education. The greatest evidence of renewal, however, is present on our campuses within the Catholic students themselves. It has been my experience that they are eager for leadership, hungry for truth, seeking to pray, and open to service to their neighbors. In many ways, they are teaching us.
Ex corde Ecclesiae and The Application promulgated to implement it, in my opinion, spearheaded and inspired an attempt to present a coherent vision that continues to unfold for and within our Catholic universities and colleges in this country. It is up to all of us to replace the tired, negative rhetoric of the not so distant past—when political and polarized ideologies seemed to dominate the conversation—with voices of Catholic scholars and leaders who are faithful and who are “convinced of the priority of the ethical over the technical, of the primacy of the person over things, of the superiority of the spirit over matter,” joining knowledge to conscience; voices of Catholic scholars and leaders who do not, in the words of our Holy Father’s encyclical Fides et Ratio, “run from the truth as soon as they glimpse it because they are afraid of its demands” but who stand and serve the truth in charity.
New leadership in the Church brings new emphases. Building upon the strong legacy of his predecessor, Pope Benedict XVI has addressed the value and importance of Catholic higher education several times. Even before his election to the papacy, as Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger wrote to me of the importance of involving our Catholic universities and colleges in confronting the pressing moral issues of our day. “Universities,” he stated, (should) “organize symposia, possibly with the participation of representatives of different confessions, religions and cultures, in order to identify currents and points of agreement which may be productive in renewing an understanding of the natural moral law.” He sees Catholic universities and colleges as an effective element for positive social and cultural change, a “positive choice,” in his words, for all that Catholicism and Christianity represent.
In a speech at Rome’s Sacred Heart University in 2005, Pope Benedict remarked that “The Catholic university is a great workshop in which, in keeping with the various disciplines, new lines of research are constantly being developed in a stimulating encounter between faith and reason… This then is the great challenge to Catholic universities: to impart knowledge in the perspective of true rationality, different from that of today which largely prevails, in accordance with a reason open to the question of the truth and to the great values inscribed in being itself, hence, open to the transcendent, to God.” And when our students graduate, he continued, “How do they leave? What culture did they find, assimilate, develop?” Addressing himself to administration, faculty, staff and students, Pope Benedict encouraged all Catholic universities and colleges “to give life to an authentic Catholic university that excels in the quality of its research and teaching and, at the same time, its fidelity to the Gospel and the Church’s Magisterium.”
At his Angelus address on January 20, 2008, the Holy Father responded to a protest that, despite the invitation previously extended, occasioned him not to speak on the campus of LaSapienza University in Rome. His words in St. Peter’s Square that day gave us a glimpse into his view of the mission of Catholic higher education in our world today:
The university environment, which for many years was my world, linked for me a love for the seeking of truth, for exchange, for frank and respectful dialogue between differing positions. All this, too, is the mission of the church, charged to faithfully follow Jesus the Teacher of life, of truth and of love. As a professor, so to say, emeritus, who’s encountered many students in his life, I encourage you… to always be respectful of other people’s opinions and to seek out, with a free and responsible spirit, the truth and the good.
Very Reverend David M. O’Connell, C.M., J.C.D., is president of The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C., and a consultor to the Vatican Congregation for Catholic Education.
The Restoration of a Catholic ‘Idea of a University’
Most Rev. David L. Ricken
The 1967 “Land O’Lakes Statement” by leading Catholic educators precipitated a revolution in Catholic higher education that amounted to heresy and schism. Major Catholic universities in the United States—Notre Dame, St. Louis University, Georgetown, and Boston College, to name a few—proclaimed their independence from the Magisterium of the Church. Claiming that “the Catholic university must have a true autonomy and academic freedom in the face of authority of every kind, lay or clerical, external to the university itself,” the Land O’Lakes Statement announced its separation from the teaching authority and hierarchy of the Church and established its own magisterium, what Monsignor George Kelly called “a two-headed church.” Substituting liberal modernism for Catholic orthodoxy, the Land O’Lakes Statement viewed the mission of the college as conformity to the “modern,” as an education “geared to modern society” that resists “theological or philosophical imperialism.”
Naturally, because no man can serve two masters, Catholic universities that subscribed to the Land O’Lakes Statement disowned their patrimony—the university as a gift from the heart of the Church, Ex corde Ecclesiae—and embraced the model of the secular university with its alleged uninhibited academic freedom. As the Statement reads, nothing is to be “outlawed,” and academic freedom means “no boundaries and no barriers.” The consequences of this commitment to the modernist movement are legion: the separation of faith and reason, the loss of Catholic identity, the reign of secular ideology, the establishment of moral relativism as the touchstone of truth, and the loss of an honorable academic heritage rooted in the wisdom of the ages.
Two modern papal pronouncements, John Paul II’s Ex corde Ecclesiae (1990) and Benedict XVI’s “Address to Catholic Educators” (2008), study this crisis in Catholic higher education and seek to restore the ideals of Catholic higher education. The two popes review the venerable tradition of Catholic learning as a treasury of wisdom that spreads the riches of the Gospel, humanizes and civilizes persons, promotes the dignity and inestimable worth of all human beings, and serves the common good of all societies.
As Pope John Paul II writes, the heritage of the Catholic university cultivates “the joy of learning” and rejoicing in the truth (St. Augustine’s gaudium de veritate). It teaches the ability “to think rigorously… to act rightly and to serve humanity better.” He argues that, contrary to the opinion of the Land O’Lakes Statement, a Catholic university never stifles the life of the mind or the passion for truth, because Catholic higher learning “is distinguished by its free search for the whole truth about nature, man, and God” and “is dedicated to the research of all aspects of truth in their essential connection with the supreme Truth, who is God.” The Catholic university does not inhibit research or censor the quest for knowledge but insists on “the moral, spiritual, and religious dimension” of research and judges the methods and discoveries of science “in the perspective of the totality of the human person.”
Thus the Catholic Church, “expert in humanity,” in its teaching authority always reserves the right to determine the norms of legitimate research and judge the uses of technology and medical procedures as either moral or immoral, as humanizing or dehumanizing, as upholding the dignity of human beings or exploiting persons as objects or instruments. In other words, neither academic freedom nor human freedom are absolute. Although the birth control pill, embryonic stem-cell research, and cloning have acquired respectability in the medical and scientific professions, the Magisterium of the Church exercises a higher standard than the secular world’s criteria of utility, pragmatism, and progress.
Likewise, Pope Benedict XVI’s address warns educators that the test of truth goes beyond contemporary intellectual fashions, whether it is “the cold pragmatic calculations of utility” that determine right and wrong on the basis of self-interest or cost-effectiveness, the “positivistic mentality” that exalts the scientific method and empirical data as the ultimate test of objective truth or “secularist ideology” that divorces reason and faith and reduces truth to political opinion.
While the Catholic university welcomes all knowledge from the many fields of learning and honors the freedom “to search for the truth wherever careful analysis of evidence leads you,” this human knowledge does not qualify the modern university’s pursuit of academic freedom “to justify positions that contradict the faith and the teaching of the Church.” Revealed knowledge and the divine wisdom of God from Scripture, tradition, and the teachings of the Magisterium represent eternal and ultimate truths that subordinate man’s knowledge and human wisdom. That is, if worldly wisdom in the form of legal decisions, medical ethics, and political views claims the “right” to abortion, euthanasia, or same-sex marriage, the Church judges these views in the light of revealed truth, eternal law, natural law, and the teachings of the Church’s encyclicals.
In short, contrary to the Land O’Lakes Statement, academic freedom, scholarly knowledge, and human opinion possess no independent authority or autonomy exclusive of the Church. As Cardinal Newman explains in The Idea of a University, when the circle of knowledge excludes theology from the body of truth, it creates a void. Because nature abhors a vacuum, other fields of knowledge then usurp the authority of theology and assume airs of their own infallibility. Newman writes, “Religious doctrine is knowledge, in as full a sense as Newton’s doctrine is knowledge. University teaching without theology is simply unphilosophical. Theology has at least as good a right to claim a place there as astronomy.” The modern, then, must be judged in the light of the ancient, and science must be judged in the light of theology. The question is not only “Is it possible?” but also “Is it moral?”
Given the recent crisis in Catholic higher education and its renunciation of its venerable ideals of transmitting the fullness and unity of the truth, the treasury of wisdom from great art and literature, its integration of reason and faith, and its education of the whole person, how can Catholic higher education in the modern world restore its sublime vision of “the idea of a university”? How does it once again reclaim its special identity as many small Catholic alternative colleges strive to create a living Catholic ethos on their campuses?
Fifty percent of education consists of atmosphere, G. K. Chesterton remarked, and one of the marks of authentic Catholic education is the culture or environment that it creates. In the right atmosphere or environment, natural, vigorous growth follows whether it is the life of a plant, an animal, or a human being—whether it is the life of the mind, the heart, or the soul. As Pope Benedict XVI proposed in his “Address to Catholic Educators,” the renewal of Catholic higher education requires colleges with a distinct, unmistakable Catholic identity. He asks, “Is the faith tangible in our universities and schools? Is it given fervent expression liturgically, sacramentally, through prayer, acts of charity, a concern for justice, and respect for God’s creation?”
This aura of a genuine Catholic culture expresses itself in small things and in great matters. Do young men and young women dress in good taste and beautiful modesty and behave with gracious civility and cheerful affability? Is theology an integral part of the curriculum, and are students introduced to the riches of Scripture, the wisdom of the church fathers, and the lives and writings of the saints? Does the ordinary life of students allow for friendship, conversation, athletics, contemplation, and prayer—a balanced, rhythmic life of work and play, activity and rest? Does the curriculum instill in students a desire to discover knowledge, to love the truth, to defend the good, and even to suffer for noble ideals such as the right to life and the defense of traditional marriage? Does the college introduce students to “the best which has been thought and said” in the books and courses that form the course of study?
Bona fide Catholic colleges manifest tell-tale signs that introduce students to a world that radiates purity, charity, joy, and wonder—what the Greeks called the art of living well as opposed to merely living, surviving, or earning a livelihood. As Benedict XVI states, “Catholic identity is not dependent upon statistics. Neither can it be equated simply with orthodoxy of course content.” A day in the life of a true Catholic university reveals prayer, learning, conviviality, charity, and service—daily Mass, the study of great subjects or classics, the joy of learning for its own sake, the graces of friendship, civility, and hospitality. This atmosphere is always reflecting goodness, beauty, and truth in its myriad forms—in St. Paul’s words, “whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely” (Phil 4:8). Thus, a Catholic university brooks no tolerance for the base, the ugly, the tawdry, or the banal. Rock music, prurient or lewd films, access to internet pornography, or student organizations that promote homosexuality all poison the entire ambience of a Catholic university and rob it of its identity.
An authentic Catholic college, then—like a loving home—breathes life and invites participation. It cultivates an atmosphere that makes truth good (“Taste and see the sweetness of the Lord,” declares the Psalmist in Psalms 34:8), associates the beautiful with the true (“Glory be to God for dappled things,” writes Gerard Manley Hopkins), and equates the good with the true (“You love us, Lord, as if we were the only one,” St. Augustine states). Whenever truth, goodness, and beauty are appreciated and cherished for their own sake—as ends in themselves—they create what Cardinal Newman calls an “overflow.” Newman explains: “Good is not only good, but reproductive of good; this is one of its attributes; nothing is excellent, beautiful, perfect, desirable for its own sake, but it overflows, and spreads the likeness of itself all around it.” In this atmosphere of overflowing and spreading, prayer, love of learning, and mirth happen naturally, and students acquire a sense of the excellent, the highest, and the noblest—the Christian ideals that restore man’s dignity and remind him of the meaning of being a human being created in the image of God.
As Pope Benedict remarks in his “Address to Catholic Educators,” a Catholic college that inspires the imitation of Christ moves a person “to lead a new life characterized by all that is beautiful, good, and true.” This aspiration for transcendent values and eternal truths provides student with a moral vision that transcends popular culture, political ideology, and moral relativism—the mentality of “political correctness.” Benedict XVI writes, “Similarly the Church never tires of upholding the essential moral categories of right and wrong” lest man embrace the “cold pragmatic calculations of utility which render the person little more than a pawn on some ideological chess-board.” In the environment of a Catholic college, a student learns that truth is divine in origin, not man-made; he discovers that truth is eternal and universal, not relative or subjective; he recognizes that faith and reason complement one another and, in Benedict XVI’s words, “never contradict one another.” As the Pope explains, a Catholic college that informs minds with the light of divine wisdom teaches that “it is not praxis that creates truth but truth that should serve as the basis of praxis.” In short, the intellectual atmosphere of a Catholic college creates an environment that exemplifies the liberating academic spirit of St. Thomas Aquinas, who frequently quoted St. Ambrose: “All truth, whoever said it, comes from the Holy Spirit.”
Rising above the platitudes of secular ideologies that profess “diversity” and “tolerance” as absolute values and that define the autonomous individual as the ultimate authority of truth (Protagoras’ “man is the measure of all things”), a Catholic intellectual culture pursues what Benedict XVI calls “the fullness and unity of truth”—divine revelation, tradition, the wisdom of the past, the universality of great art and literature, the lessons of history, and the laws of science. In short, the intellectual culture of a Catholic college creates in the mind a sense of “enlargement” to use Cardinal Newman’s word from The Idea of a University—the antithesis of intellectual trendiness or narrow ideology. Hence authentic Catholic colleges do not confer honorary degrees to heretical thinkers, welcome guest lecturers, or hire faculty that profess ideas that oppose the Church’s teachings on faith and morals. Like the Christian faith, a Catholic university is countercultural.
The environment of a Catholic college instills refinement in manners, morals, feeling, and thinking. In The Idea of a University, Newman argues that a liberal education forms a quality of mind that acts upon man’s moral nature and sensitizes him to practice acts of courtesy and honor in virtues such as “veracity, probity, equity, fairness, gentleness, fairness, benevolence, and amiableness”—all qualities that elevate human life and create a civil society. This refinement of mind acquires a natural taste for the noble, the chivalrous, and the ideal—what Newman calls “a fastidiousness, analogous to the delicacy or daintiness which good nurture or a sickly habit induces in respect of food.”
This appreciation for high standards develops a discernment about the difference between proper and improper, civilized and barbaric, and excellent and mediocre—a sense of discrimination that forms “an absolute loathing of certain offences, or a detestation and scorn of them as ungentlemanlike.” Thus a liberal education fosters a moral sensibility that refuses to lower itself to crude manners, coarse language, or small-minded meanness. A refined mind possesses what Newman calls “a safeguard” or sense of shame that inhibits vulgarity or boorishness unworthy of a gentleman or lady—“an irresolution and indecision in doing wrong, which will act as a remora [delay] till the danger is passed away.” Hence, an authentic Catholic university will never host films, plays, or musical performances that give offense and stoop to bad taste, vulgarity, and obscenity in the name of academic freedom.
Another mark of Catholic education is a commitment to universal knowledge. John Paul alludes to a Catholic university’s “free search for the whole truth about nature, man, and God,” and Benedict XVI refers to the university’s obligation to communicate “the objective truth which, in transcending the particular and the subjective, points to the universal and absolute….” This thesis of course informs Newman’s The Idea of a University: “A university, I should lay down, by its very name professes to teach universal knowledge.” This type of liberal or classical education, then, values the great books of the past and immerses students in the classical-Christian tradition of Western civilization that illuminates the meaning of a “perennial philosophy” or knowledge of the “permanent things” such as the human condition, the unchanging nature of the human heart, the truth about love, or the ideals of manhood and femininity.
As students discover the permanence and continuity of universal knowledge by learning of the indebtedness of Plato to Socrates, Virgil to Homer, Dante to Virgil, Chaucer to Dante, or Dante to Aquinas, their study of the classics illuminates their minds with an understanding of the nature of wisdom—what is true for all people in all times and in all places. The restoration of Catholic higher education requires courses of study inspired by these great minds and masterpieces at the heart of the curriculum. As C.S. Lewis observed, not to have read the classics is like never having drunk wine, never having swum in the ocean, and never having been in love. The modern substitution of other studies for bona fide liberal arts courses in the humanities destroys the whole idea of universal knowledge as the essence of the university and creates the problem of “fragmentation” that Benedict XVI cites as a problem of the modern university.
Because the genius of Catholicism consists of its balanced view of all of reality and the whole nature of man—its appreciation of both scientific knowledge and divine revelation, its respect for both reason and faith, its recognition of man as both body and soul, its confidence in both nature and grace—a Catholic university nourishes the mind, body, heart, and soul of its students, aspiring for the golden mean of a sound mind in a sound body, a charitable heart and a lively intelligence, social graces and a contemplative life. A Catholic university is not a place for technical training, an athletic camp, endless political activity or a monastic life. As Benedict XVI writes, “Truth speaks to the individual in his or her entirety, inviting us to respond with our whole being.” A Catholic university that speaks to persons in their entirety instills a love of leisure and the enjoyment of play as the essence of human happiness and as a reminder of man’s spiritual and religious nature—man’s need to rest on the Sabbath and worship God, to restore his strength and uplift his heart.
While a Catholic university forms virtues of mind, heart, and conscience that ennoble human work and elevate human society, it also instills an appreciation for the life after work—the capacity to enjoy all of life’s simple and aesthetic pleasures from the delight in friendship and hospitality to a love of music and art. This cultivation of the whole person—the senses, the imagination, the intellect—serves a person both at work and at play for a lifetime. In short, a Catholic university that addresses “the whole being” of man awakens a love of life in all of its abundance and richness. However, when modern universities disown their obligation of authority in loco parentis, create occasions of sin and temptation with coeducational dormitories, and ignore the physical health and spiritual well-being of students with ready availability of contraceptives, they do not show care for the whole person.
“See how they love one another,” the pagans said of the early Christians. The first followers of Christ possessed an unmistakable identity. They honored their marriage vows, they did not abandon their children to die on the mountains, and they practiced charity in the way they shared their possessions. “See how they live. See how they talk and treat one another. See how they play. See how they learn. See what they study. See how they think,” observers should say of the Catholic university as they see the light in the eyes, the joy and peace in the hearts, the kindness in the actions, the mirth in the games, the wonder in the minds, and the image of God in the souls of students and teachers doing their ordinary work in their part of the vineyard living in the world but not of the world.
It is important to be reminded that Christ taught us, “By their fruits you shall know them” (Mt 7:16). Certainly that applies to Catholic education. To be faithful to the Lord’s admonition, Catholic colleges must address the whole person—mind, body, heart, and soul—and illuminate the meaning of wisdom, purity, charity, and God’s mystery.
Bishop David L. Ricken, J.C.L., S.T.L., is Bishop of the Diocese of Green Bay, Wisconsin. He previously served as the Bishop of Cheyenne, Wyoming, and presided over the founding of Wyoming Catholic College.
Vatican II, Evangelization and Catholic Higher Education
Dr. John P. Hittinger
It is rare to find members of Catholic colleges and universities aware of the late Holy Father’s encouragement to them and his trust in them to take up the task of evangelization in Christifideles laici and Ex corde Ecclesiae.
Indeed, the very word, evangelization, is jarring to the solemnity of institutional autonomy or academic freedom and questions the staid emulation of the secular academy now so deeply embedded in Catholic higher education. But there it is, the culminating point of Ex corde Ecclesiae, prominently displayed as if on a lamp stand: “By its very nature, each Catholic university makes an important contribution to the Church’s work of evangelization… all the basic academic activities of a Catholic university are connected with and in harmony with the evangelizing mission of the Church.”
What are we to make of this claim and this trust given to the universities? In the previous section, Pope John Paul II defines the notion of evangelization as follows:
The primary mission of the Church is to preach the Gospel in such a way that a relationship between faith and life is established in each individual and in the socio-cultural context in which individuals live and act and communicate with one another. Evangelization means “bringing the Good News into all the strata of humanity, and through its influence transforming humanity from within and making it new… It is a question not only of preaching the Gospel in ever wider geographic areas or to ever greater numbers of people, but also of affecting and, as it were, upsetting, through the power of the Gospel, humanity’s criteria of judgment, determining values, points of interest, lines of thought, sources of inspiration and models of life, which are in contrast with the Word of God and the plan of salvation.”
This passage provides us with a proper orientation to the meaning of “evangelization.” As expected, it means “preaching the gospel,” the very idea that may cause the academy alarm that its mission is reduced to proselytism. But the gospel must be preached in a certain way, or with a certain end in view, namely that the dynamic relationship between faith and life is rightly and fruitfully established. We must recall that in the documents of Vatican II, a council celebrated for its absence of “anathema sit,” there is a condemnation of the split between faith and life, as the “serious error of our age.” The error consists in two extremes of either withdrawing into a religious sphere separated from the daily life of the world (“otherworldliness”), or alternatively, engaging in worldly affairs as if religion has no bearing on temporal matters (“secularism”). Faith must be available, through personal assimilation and cultural embodiment, to “transform” and “renew” humanity. The Catholic university is uniquely positioned and endowed to overcome this split. Through its formation and preparation of the young for entry into society, the Catholic university can assist men and women to fashion a unity of faith and life so that they bring the good news into “all strata of humanity.” And through the academic way of life, after the manner of a Socrates or Augustine, the Catholic university can challenge and upset “humanity’s criteria of judgment” and explore the integral human good. The central place for evangelization in the vision for Catholic higher education accorded by Pope John Paul II reflects his commitment to implement the message of Vatican II, as already begun by his predecessor, Pope Paul VI.
I would argue, therefore, that our failure to understand or to respond to this urgent plea for evangelization by Pope John Paul II is proportionate to the failure to understand or implement the message of the Second Vatican Council. For “evangelization” is the heart of the message of Vatican II, sometimes stated as such, or couched in the rubric of “missionary mandate” or “lay apostolate.”
Pope John Paul II never tired of voicing his gratitude for Vatican II. The Council, he said, was “the gift of the Spirit to the Church,” “the great grace bestowed on the Church in the twentieth century,” and “what the Spirit is saying to the Church with regard to the present phase of the history of salvation.” He made reference to his reliance upon its teaching and guidelines: it is “the authentic depository of the predictions and promises made by Christ to the apostles,” a “treasure… in the guidelines offered to us by the Second Vatican Council,” and a “sure compass by which to take our bearings.” He frequently spoke of our need as a Church to steep ourselves in its teachings.
In Christifideles laici, John Paul said “the lay faithful are invited to take up again and reread, meditate on and assimilate with renewed understanding and love, the rich and fruitful teaching of the Council.” In Novo Millennio Ineunte, John Paul challenged the Church “to examine herself on the reception given to the Council,” and repeated his plea that the Council documents, having “lost nothing of their value or brilliance,” need to be “read correctly, widely known, and taken to heart.” Indeed, Pope John Paul II concluded the apostolic letter repeating his now famous call to put out into the deep (“duc in altum”) because “a new millennium is opening before the Church like a vast ocean upon which we shall venture.”
The missionary mandate (Mt. 28:19) accompanies us on this journey. Christ is at work today and we may rely upon him for our venture of faith. So in Ex corde Ecclesiae he says that his hope is that “these prescriptions, based on the teaching of Vatican Council II will enable Catholic universities to fulfill their indispensable mission in the new advent of grace that is opening up to the new millennium.” He wrote Ex corde with an eye toward the Jubilee and the new millennium. To take part in the venture to which we are called as Catholic educators, we must have “discerning eyes” and a “generous heart.”
Presuming upon the generous hearts of my readers, I wish to make a small contribution to the discernment we need to see and begin to act for the paramount aim of Catholic higher education—evangelization. In this paper I wish to make a summary of the teachings of Vatican II in order to highlight the notion of lay apostolate and to see how this provides the essential purpose and ultimate outcomes, if you will, of Catholic higher education today. I will also indicate how the thought and writing of Pope John Paul II on Catholic higher education, including Ex corde, amplify and apply this teaching and purpose. I will conclude with some brief comments about what this means for Catholic higher education at the present moment.
Vatican II and evangelization
The mission, or gift of service [munus], of Catholic higher education, as evangelization, emerges through the notion of lay apostolate. We need to view this notion in the light of the dynamic relationship of the four major Documents of Vatican II—The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (Lumen Gentium), The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (Sacrosanctum concilium), The Dogmatic Constitution on Revelation (Dei verbum), and The Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World (Gaudium et spes). In addition, we must briefly consider some passages from The Decree On the Apostolate of the Laity (Apostolicam Actuositatem), The Decree On the Mission Activity of the Church (Ad Gentes), and finally, The Declaration On Christian Education (Gravissimum Educationis). Arguably, the notion of lay apostolate, fully and properly understood, is the central focus of the entire Council. At the end of this paper, I provide a schematic of these seven documents exhibiting their relation to lay apostolate.
We must first of all consider the approach to the Church as “mystery” in Lumen Gentium. Not reducible to a sociological complex or a political interest group, the Church is a “communion of life, love, and truth,” “a sign and instrument of communion with God and of unity among all men.” The Church is a “complex reality” which comes together from “a human and a divine element,” much like the mystery of the incarnation of the Word. It is her mission to “reveal in the world, faithfully, however darkly, the mystery of her Lord.” Indeed, the church must fulfill the command of Christ to spread the faith to the very ends of the earth. The mandate to preach the gospel (Mt. 28:18-20), to evangelize, gives rise to a work that constitutes more than proclaiming the gospel: “through her work, whatever good is in the minds and hearts of men, whatever good lies latent in the religious practices and cultures of diverse peoples, is not only saved from destruction but is also cleansed, raised up and perfected unto the glory of God, the confusion of the devil and the happiness of man.” In other words, evangelization accomplishes renewal and transformation of culture. This requires entry into all “strata” of humanity and society. Here emerges the critical role for the laity.
The laity have a special role to play in the mission of the Church: “The laity are given this special vocation: to make the Church present and fruitful in those places and circumstances where it is only through them that she can become the salt of the earth. Thus, every lay person, through those gifts given to him, is at once the witness and the living instrument of the mission of the Church itself ‘according to the measure of Christ’s bestowal.’” This vocation is called “lay apostolate,” and it is said to be “sharing in the salvific mission of the Church.” The laity are a witness and instrument primarily in the world, in secular activities, structures, and communities.
The laity share in the three-fold mission of Christ, as priest, prophet, and king. We can not do better than to quote Pope John Paul II’s own summary of Lumen Gentium:
The lay faithful are sharers in the priestly mission, for which Jesus offered himself on the cross and continues to be offered in the celebration of the Eucharist for the glory of God and the salvation of humanity. Incorporated in Jesus Christ, the baptized are united to him and to his sacrifice in the offering they make of themselves and their daily activities…. Through their participation in the prophetic mission of Christ, “who proclaimed the kingdom of his Father by the testimony of his life and by the power of his world” (n.35), the lay faithful are given the ability and responsibility to accept the gospel in faith and to proclaim it in word and deed, without hesitating to courageously identify and denounce evil…. They are also called to allow the newness and the power of the gospel to shine out everyday in their family and social life, as well as to express patiently and courageously in the contradictions of the present age their hope of future glory even “through the framework of their secular life” (n.35)…. Because the lay faithful belong to Christ, Lord and King of the Universe, they share in his kingly mission and are called by him to spread that Kingdom in history. They exercise their kingship as Christians, above all in the spiritual combat in which they seek to overcome in themselves the kingdom of sin, and then to make a gift of themselves so as to serve… the lay faithful are called to restore to creation all its original value. In ordering creation to the authentic well-being of humanity in an activity governed by the life of grace, they share in the exercise of the power with which the Risen Christ draws all things to himself and subjects them along with himself to the Father, so that God might be everything to everyone.
The world, temporal society, is the place where the laity exercise their apostolate. So we must briefly examine the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World (Gaudium et spes). Called to make common cause with men and women of goodwill, Christians need to understand the trends of the modern world in light of the gospel and the Catholic intellectual tradition. The document looks to the human aspiration for greater freedom and participation as a good thing, the awareness of human dignity and concern for rights is another positive aspect of the modern world, and finally the trend toward greater communication and exchange among all members of the world is a sign of a longing for brotherhood. But along with these signs of human development there are also signs which contradict them—the development of new forms of servitude, opportunities for debasement, and increased divisions and hatreds. In his first encyclical letter, Redemptor hominis, Pope John Paul II traces and elaborates on these themes from Gaudium et spes. A true Christian anthropology, a theocentric humanism, is the deep truth modern man needs to confront the challenges and fulfill his destiny. In light of the Christian anthropology, members of the Church will join in to explore ways to deal with five areas of special urgency: family and marriage, culture, economics, politics, and war and international cooperation. In light of the life and teaching of Christ, Christians can become involved in the common work of building a more just and humane world.
As explained in Ad Gentes, this activity takes on a missionary aspect and becomes a work of evangelization because the Christian acts as a leaven “even in the secular history of mankind.” Missionary activity is “an epiphany, or a manifesting of God’s decree, and its fulfillment in the world and in world history.” Missionary activity “wells up from the Church’s inner nature.” Pope John Paul II again amplifies this notion in his encyclical letter Redemptoris missio wherein he speaks of the “‘Areopagus’ in the modern world” as the new sectors which must be of special concern and attention of lay people today. The Church seeks to overcome the split between faith and culture.
The scope of this work and apostolate is vast. Pope John Paul II and Paul VI both refer to the Decree On the Apostolate of the Laity (Apostolicam Actuositatem) which sets out key areas such as family, youth, professional life, politics, and international relations. A broader and more intense apostolate is necessary to meet the challenge of the present day, which again is stated in terms of an exaggerated autonomy of temporal affairs, or secularism which involve a “departure from the ethical and religious order” in the name of autonomy. In an important passage in Gaudium et spes, the Council fathers distinguish true and false autonomy of temporal affairs, seeking to avoid otherworldliness and secularism: “created things and societies themselves enjoy their own laws and values which must be gradually deciphered, put to use, and regulated by men.” The sciences and arts must be allowed to unfold according to their different methods. “But if the expression, the independence of temporal affairs, is taken to mean that created things do not depend on God, and that man can use them without any reference to their Creator, anyone who acknowledges God will see how false such a meaning is.”
Lay apostolate requires a wise combination of knowledge of the secular disciplines with a keen sense of the origin and end of all things in God, i.e., a theological context and perspective. But ultimately the lay person must achieve in their own person and work the unity of faith and life. The Church must be present to these groups and involved in the various activities and projects of the world today, or else modern man will be turned away from God by an excessive preoccupation with technology and mastery. The Council fathers say that the principal duty of men and women is “to bear witness to Christ, by their life and their words, in the family, in their social group, and in the sphere of their profession.” This is called “the apostolate of the laity.” As John Paul II says with very poignant words, the importance of this apostolate is made clear: “On a continent marked by competition and aggressiveness, unbridled consumerism and corruption, lay people are called to embody deeply evangelical values such as mercy, forgiveness, honesty, transparency of heart and patience in difficult situations. What is expected from the laity is a great creative effort in activities and works demonstrating a life in harmony with the Gospel.” The terms of the challenge are familiar—we must achieve unity of faith and life and bring the faith or the gospel to culture.
Contribution of Catholic higher education
How will such a vision be implemented and come to pass? Such a vision requires the special mission and resources of Catholic higher education. In Gaudium et spes the challenge to the laity is said to be the development of a “well-formed Christian conscience” so that they may “see that the divine law is inscribed in the life of the earthly city.” The task requires as well the development of technical and professional competence. What is demanded of the lay person is a “vital synthesis” of “humane, domestic, professional, social and technical enterprises” with religious values, under whose “supreme direction all things are harmonized unto God’s glory.” In the spirit of Maritain’s notion of “integral humanism,” John Paul II concludes Christifideles laici with an articulation of “a total integrated formation for living an integrated life.” Of what does such an integral human education consist?
The first element and the foundation for this education must be “living by faith in the divine mystery of creation and redemption.” Obviously, the foundation for such formation and education is the knowledge of revelation through scripture and tradition, since “sacred tradition and sacred Scripture make up a single sacred deposit of the Word of God, which is entrusted to the Church.” Sacred scripture must be part of the education for lay apostolate as it is said: “access to sacred Scripture ought to be open wide to the Christian faithful.” Indeed, it is through the “word of the living God” that we are formed as a community. And we recall that “only meditation on the word of God” can we bring others to Christ and “make sound judgments on the true meaning and value of temporal realities.”
The second element in the education for lay apostolate would be the study of theology, ethics, and philosophy. Although called “solid doctrinal instruction,” such a study must be animated by the vital dialectic between faith and reason. Pope John Paul II sets out the vision for “an integral education” when he writes that “faith and reason are like two wings on which the human spirit rises to the contemplation of truth.” He says further that faith and reason each contain the other and that one without the other is “impoverished and enfeebled.” Unpacking these ideas will provide very fruitful direction for the education of lay people for their apostolate. It is also useful to look back to the pioneers commended by John Paul II (Newman, Maritain, Gilson, and Stein) precisely in their efforts to connect the dynamic interplay of faith and reason with the formation of the laity for their special role within the Church. Certainly, Newman, Maritain, and Gilson were forerunners of Vatican II in their interests in the life of the laity in the Church and in their educational concerns for finding a proper balance between faith and reason.
The third element is said to be “general culture along with practical and technical formation.” Although this component may vary according to circumstances, clearly basic cultural literacy and ability to engage the culture and communicate in it are essential to lay apostolate. Science and technology are an important part of the modern world and the aspiration toward greater mastery. In addition, Pope John Paul II said that the modern age is especially an age of social communications, and that this is the first areopagus for evangelization. So too, practical and technical training depends in large measure on the profession chosen for achievement by the students.
Fourth, the lay apostle needs to have a knowledge of “social teaching especially, its principles and conclusions, as will fit them for contributing to the progress of that teaching, and for making correct application of these same principles and conclusions in individual cases.” Pope John Paul II, in speaking of the education for lay apostolate, states that lay people need “an exact knowledge of the Church’s social teaching.” The importance and role of the family needs to be the hallmark of this social teaching. But also, the political context for all social action must be understood. In Gaudium et spes, the Council fathers say that “there is no better way” to establish political life than by encouraging “an inward sense of justice of good will” and by consolidating basic convictions about the “true nature of the political community and the aim, proper exercise, and limits of political authority.” In other words, political philosophy is a very important part of the education for lay apostolate. Given the importance of dialogue and the trends toward greater international solidarity and cooperation, the lay apostle must be knowledgeable of diverse cultures, regions, and religions.
We have thus drawn from the documents of Vatican II, with the help of Pope John Paul II, the guidelines for Catholic education today, if we are to take seriously lay apostolate as the outcome or fundamental aim of Catholic education.
The unity of faith and life must be lived out in charity. In Apostolicam Actuositatem, the Council fathers said the sacraments, especially the Eucharist, “communicate and nourish that charity which is the soul of the entire apostolate.” This phrase no doubt alludes to the famous book, The Soul of the Apostolate by Dom Chautard, in which he explains how apostolate must be the fruit and overflow of interior life, an interior life centered on the Eucharist: “Our Lord wanted to institute this Sacrament in order to make it the center of all action, of all loyal idealism, of every apostolate that could be of any real use to the Church.” Chautard said “the living memorial of the Passion revives the divine fire in the soul of the apostle when its seems on the point of going out.” He draws the necessary conclusion or law of apostolate if you will: “the efficacy of the apostolate almost invariably corresponds to the degree of Eucharistic life acquired by a soul.”
The apostolate of the laity requires “intimate union with Christ in the Church” chiefly by “active participation in the sacred liturgy.” It is interesting to go back and read the famous line from the document on liturgy: “The liturgy is the summit toward which the activity of the Church is directed; it is also the fount from which all her power flows. For the goal of apostolic endeavor is that all who are made sons of God by faith and baptism should come together to praise God in the midst of his Church, to take part in the Sacrifice and to eat the Lord’s Supper.” The source and summit of Christian life is directly linked to apostolate in the second sentence. So the source and summit of the life of the Church must frame for us an “apostolic goal,” that is, the Eucharist must send us forth to draw things to Christ and to renew the world in the Spirit. In receiving the sacred Body and Blood of Our Lord, must we not desire to serve him in love? We must be apostolic.
If we turn to section 8 of Ecclesia de Eucharistia we find a beautiful statement about the renewal and restoration of the world through the Eucharist:
Even when it is celebrated on the humble altar of a country church, the Eucharist is always in some way celebrated on the altar of the world. It unites heaven and earth. It embraces and permeates all creation. The Son of God became man in order to restore all creation, in one supreme act of praise, to the One who made it from nothing. He, the Eternal High Priest who by the blood of his Cross entered the eternal sanctuary, thus gives back to the Creator and Father all creation redeemed. He does so through the priestly ministry of the Church, to the glory of the Most Holy Trinity. Truly this is the mysterium fidei which is accomplished in the Eucharist: the world which came forth from the hands of God the Creator now returns to him redeemed by Christ.
The “coming forth” and “return” is a variation of St Thomas Aquinas’ account of the structure of Summa, called in Latin the “exitus/reditus.” All things come forth from God, rational creatures return to God through reason and virtue, law and grace. The incarnation of Christ redeems man, body, and soul. The coming forth and return is reiterated in a key section of Gaudium et spes on the proper autonomy of secular affairs; the world is good and has a “proper autonomy” deriving from its creaturely status. False autonomy asserts that created things do not depend on God, and that man can use them without any reference to their Creator. The proper framework for apostolate is to understand the proper origin and end of creation in the Creator God. Without the creator, the creature is lost and becomes unintelligible.
The Eucharist therefore leads us to a deep affirmation of the goodness of God’s creation. Father Vann says that Thomas Aquinas is the Doctor of the Eucharist because he is “the expounder of this great affirmation: all things are good in themselves though evil has damaged and twisted them.” To restore what is damaged by sin; to straighten what is twisted and perverted by human willfulness—that is the effect of the Eucharist; that is the challenge to the lay faithful to bring to the altar God’s good creation, now wounded by sin, but redeemed by the sacrifice of Christ. This is lay apostolate.
A brief look at the document on Christian education (Gravissimum Educationis) would complete our effort to see the connection between the role of the Catholic university in evangelization and the thrust of Vatican II. The document opens with a reference to the Council’s care for the importance of education “in the life of man and how its influence ever grows in the social progress of this age.” The very conditions of the new era (i.e., growing awareness of human dignity, the movement for an active participation in economic and political life, new leisure, and new means of communication) make it both “easier” and more urgent to achieve this education. Attempts are made “everywhere” to promote “more education.” To fulfill its mandate for evangelization the Church has a role in the “progress and development of education.” The true end of education is the formation of the human person “in the pursuit of his ultimate end and the good of the societies of which, as man, he is a member, and in whose obligations, as an adult, he will share.” Young people must be helped to “acquire a mature sense of responsibility.” Such education should not only achieve the mature sense of their own responsibility but also cultivate awareness of the gift of faith and the opportunity to witness to the hope within them. The Church is responsible for announcing the good news to all men and is bound “to provide an education by which the whole life of man is imbued by the spirit of Christ and to promote the temporal good.” Catholic education should orient “the whole of human culture to the message of salvation” so that knowledge is illumined by faith. Such an education prepares students to work for the welfare of the world and to live “an exemplary apostolic life” and be a leaven in society.
Specifically, through the Catholic university the Church ensures a “public, enduring and pervasive influence of the Christian mind in the furtherance of culture.” Its students will be formed to be outstanding in their training and “ready to undertake weighty responsibilities in society and witness to the faith in the world.” Such a project must achieve the integration of faith and reason. The university respects the autonomy of the disciplines and strives to be true to the principles and methods of each discipline. And yet at a Catholic university there is an aspiration that “there may be a deeper realization of the harmony of faith and science.”
The Council recommends the tradition of the doctors of the Church on faith and reason, especially the thought of St. Thomas Aquinas. John Paul II similarly commends Thomas Aquinas in his encyclical on Fides et ratio: “Saint Thomas is an authentic model for all who seek the truth. In his thinking, the demands of reason and the power of faith found the most elevated synthesis ever attained by human thought, for he could defend the radical newness introduced by Revelation without ever demeaning the venture proper to reason.” He also makes reference to Pope Paul VI, quoting an important passage from his allocution:
Without doubt, Thomas possessed supremely the courage of the truth, a freedom of spirit in confronting new problems, the intellectual honesty of those who allow Christianity to be contaminated neither by secular philosophy nor by a prejudiced rejection of it. He passed therefore into the history of Christian thought as a pioneer of the new path of philosophy and universal culture. The key point and almost the kernel of the solution which, with all the brilliance of his prophetic intuition, he gave to the new encounter of faith and reason was a reconciliation between the secularity of the world and the radicality of the Gospel, thus avoiding the unnatural tendency to negate the world and its values while at the same time keeping faith with the supreme and inexorable demands of the supernatural order.
I think we can see here a fitting conclusion to our study of Vatican II and lay apostolate and Catholic higher education. Vatican II, as we have seen, balances a respect for the world and its structures with the supernatural perspective of faith. It is precisely the radicality or newness of the gospel, made available through baptism, which gives the laity their participation in the office of Christ as priest, prophet, and king. The “secularity” of the lay member of the church is the distinctive attribute noted by the Council. But such secularity must be matched by, formed by, the radicality or newness of the gospel. Catholic higher education can avoid those extremes of the negation of the world and the marginalization of faith through paying attention to the mission of evangelization and the outcome of producing men and women who can be lay apostles.
Catholic higher education at the present moment
Catholic universities must set forth their vision for an integral education for lay apostolate and fulfill the trust given to them by Pope John Paul II for evangelization. We have instead accepted and exacerbated the split or divergence between faith and life, faith and reason, and faith and culture. A few lessons we may learn from the documents of Vatican II as a context for reading Ex corde Ecclesiae concern three points: (1) communio and the unity of faith and life, (2) curriculum and the unity of faith and reason, and (3) integration and the unity of faith and culture.
Communio and the unity of faith and life: The university must be first of all a true community rooted in faith, “ecclesial faith” as Pope Benedict would put it to American educators. The importance of hiring to mission is not only a matter of the statistical count of Catholics on the faculty or students recruited. There must be a faithful community gathered around the Eucharist. Out of this faithful communion springs the community of “joy in truth” that marks the university. The community itself is the first “sign” of God’s presence in the world. Around the sacrifice of the Mass and the word of God the community finds its bearings. At the very outset of the encyclical Fides et ratio, Pope John Paul II says that the young have no point of reference for their lives because the teachers have given up: “this time of rapid and complex change can leave especially the younger generation, to whom the future belongs and on whom it depends, with a sense that they have no valid points of reference. The need for a foundation for personal and communal life becomes all the more pressing at a time when we are faced with the patent inadequacy of perspectives in which the ephemeral is affirmed as a value and the possibility of discovering the real meaning of life is cast into doubt. We owe to the students to provide the points of reference embedded in our heritage and way of life. The professors are the first models and witnesses of the unity of faith and life. Their position at the university is an apostolic venture.
Curriculum and the unity of faith and reason: The dynamic interplay of faith and reason must characterize the curriculum of a Catholic university. This means that philosophy and theology provide the fundamental structure and animating content of the education. Authentic Catholic theology must be offered with no fear of watering it down. In addition, the curriculum requires a philosophy “consonant with the word of God” to complement the study of theology. As we noted above, St Thomas Aquinas should be the model for the dynamic formation curriculum. The unity of faith and reason is a model or template for the achievement of western culture as such, and some access to this achievement and its principles are important for Catholic higher education today. The plea for integration of knowledge and the encouragement of interdisciplinary studies should be viewed in the light of the formation for lay apostolate and the fragmentation of culture. A concern is expressed in Gaudium et spes about the influence of scientism, materialism, pragmatism and the deformation of education; they express the aspiration for a humanistic education achieved in “synthesis” of wisdom, the whole truth, a synthesis based upon the “whole human person,” a blending of sciences and morality and doctrine. All of this serves the renewal of life and culture of fallen man. Catholic education “strengthens, purifies, and restores” culture in Christ.
Integration and the unity of faith and culture: The integration requires a capstone course of some kind to facilitate that “synthesis” of professional knowledge with the theological principle. The faculty must be the chief models for this. Faculty development is required so that all faculty may place their discipline within a Christian worldview, as called for Ex corde Ecclesiae: “University teachers should seek to improve their competence and endeavor to set the content, objectives, methods, and results of research in an individual discipline within the framework of a coherent world vision. Christians among the teachers are called to be witnesses and educators of authentic Christian life, which evidences an attained integration between faith and life, and between professional competence and Christian wisdom. All teachers are to be inspired by academic ideals and by the principles of an authentically human life.” Clearly, the faculty at a Catholic university are the means of its success. As the decree on Christian education states: “Teachers must remember that it depends chiefly upon them whether the Catholic school achieves its purpose.” A recent sociological study of Catholic higher education underscores the pressing need for faculty development if universities are to maintain a sense of mission. The notion of lay apostolate and evangelization based upon the documents of Vatican II should be the foundation of any program for development.
The challenge by Pope John Paul II for Catholic universities to participate in the evangelization of culture could provide an opportunity for them to discover their true energy and splendor. For the Catholic colleges and universities that now struggle for maintaining their existence, the integrity of the evangelizing mission provides a framework for establishing priorities for re-structuring and re-allocation. For those colleges and universities that continue to see an increase in student enrollment and donations, the challenge continues to be that of fidelity to the Church and to see that the notion that unity of life and faith, or the internal coherence of Christian witness, is the primary value at stake in the educational arena, and not worldly success.
Taking a Catholic View on Academic Freedom
Rev. Joseph W. Koterski, S.J.
So much about an answer depends on the way one poses the question. In the old story about the two monks who liked to smoke, for instance, it is easy to see why the one who asked if he could pray while smoking received permission, but the one who asked if he could smoke while praying had his request denied.
There is all the difference in the world between asking whether academic freedom is an indispensable condition for intellectual inquiry or is itself the goal. It is surely a crucial condition for real intellectual progress, for we do not know all the answers to our questions. Even figuring out how best to formulate the questions can be a difficult task. The promotion of such freedom is a necessary feature of university life. This is as true of a Catholic institution as of any other. But to think of academic freedom as somehow more than a necessary condition for intellectual progress is to mistake the means for the end. Academic freedom cannot be rightly understood as a permission to advocate for policies that are intrinsically immoral or as an artistic license for the exhibition of what is obscene, for these are not part of the goal. Academic freedom, properly understood, is a sphere for genuine scholarly debate about the truth of things.
Robust and lax views of academic freedom
The effort to take a Catholic view on academic freedom is not to postulate that there is some distinct species of the genus (“Catholic academic freedom”). Quite the contrary—my suggestion is that a Catholic view on academic freedom provides a model of what academic freedom rightly understood ought to look like anywhere. We should not presume that what passes for academic freedom in the secular sphere is the true model, and that the Catholic view is some quaint, parochial version that unfairly permits special reservations or exclusions. A better understanding of academic freedom makes it possible to see how lax versions of it can obscure a proper understanding of the relation between truth and freedom.
In the academy today there is a tendency to envision academic freedom as utterly unrestricted and to criticize any position that might order freedom to the service of any other interest. But such a highly abstract view of academic freedom risks treating what is important as a condition for scholarly inquiry as if it were independent of higher goals such as academic instruction of students, or docility to inconvenient truths, or service to a particular community that a religiously affiliated university was founded to provide. Freedom in the academy, as anywhere else, ought to be understood in service of something higher. To put it very simply, freedom is not just a matter of freedom from but of freedom for.
The idea of a university
What is essential to the very idea of a university is an interlocking triad of functions: scientific and scholarly research, academic teaching, and a creative cultural life intended to be bear fruit for the larger society and for the body that sponsors the institution. The kind of intellectual formation that students may rightly expect to find at the university level will be more likely to occur when their instructors are personally engaged in research, so that what teachers impart is a personal sense of the quest and not just a set of pre-packaged results. The demands of teaching help keep researchers alert to the meaning of the indefatigable work their disciplines require. By teaching they are regularly challenged to relate their discoveries and frustrations to the whole of knowledge, for their students are studying other things and want to understand connections between the subjects under study, even if full achievement of the unity of all knowledge may remain out of reach.
What the faculty should hope to develop in university students is a love of the quest for truth as well as the skills and disciplines needed to join in that quest. The goal of university education is the development not only of the mind but of the whole person. There ought to be concern to make new discoveries, to impart what is knowable in a given discipline, and to contribute to the development of maturity in body and mind, heart and spirit. To treat academic freedom as if it were some privileged sphere for the expression of personal beliefs in a way that is unrelated to other—and sometimes higher—ends is to sacrifice certain essential concerns of the university to a mere abstraction.
As an institution within a culture, the university receives benefits that it could not obtain on its own. In turn it owes significant debts to that culture. The service that a university needs to render includes education of a new generation in useful disciplines and moral formation of persons with a sense of the common good, the discovery of approaches and solutions to genuine problems, and the transmission of wisdom, knowledge, and traditions important to the community. Seeing academic freedom in the context of these important relationships makes for a better sense of its true nature. From this expectation of mutual benefits come both the reason for the sacrifices needed to sustain universities and the need for those who are granted the freedom of a university to benefit the community precisely by contributing to all the missions of a university.
The relation of truth and freedom
One might well argue that the relationship of the university to the society is “dialectical,” like the very relationship between truth and freedom. Freedom is a condition for the possibility of truth, and truth is the goal of freedom. To assert that a relation is dialectical is to say that the terms stand in a kind of complementary relation to one another—here it is a relation between an enabling condition and the proper use of that condition. Grasping this dialectical relationship allows us to distinguish authentic forms of freedom from inauthentic forms. However much of a little world of its own the university tends to be, the university is not its own end, but an indispensable means for the progress of research and the transmission of knowledge and wisdom. Understood in light of the specific goals of any institution of higher learning, the freedom typical of university life can be seen to take authentic and inauthentic forms.
Negatively, academic freedom involves an absence of external compulsion. Granted the need to respect such practical concerns as the financial, universities need to resist utilitarian and ideological pressures, such as a quest to give intellectual respectability to positions that are not respectable or to provide sophisticated propaganda for partisan projects. Positively, academic freedom has to be a “freedom for truth,” that is, a condition suitable for enabling scientific and scholarly progress and for subjecting reasons and arguments to the most compelling scrutiny we can devise.
In more practical terms, a university marked by a true sense of academic freedom ought to be hostile to political correctness in any form. There should be a willingness to engage frankly and deeply even the positions with which a sponsoring institution most profoundly disagrees. Coming to an authentic understanding of the best reasons in the arsenal of one’s opponent is, after all, a hallmark of intellectual respectability and a better route for making sure of the validity of one’s own position than precluding the discussion of those points. On this point, Catholics have the testimony of none other than Pope Benedict XVI in his address of April 2008, when he urged that the idea of Catholic higher education is not only compatible with academic freedom in the genuine sense of the term but that ensuring appropriate instruction in Catholic doctrine and practice is crucial to advancing academic freedom and to honoring the institution’s mission:
In regard to faculty members at Catholic colleges and universities, I wish to reaffirm the great value of academic freedom. In virtue of this freedom you are called to search for the truth wherever careful analysis of evidence leads you. Yet… any appeal to the principle of academic freedom in order to justify positions that contradict the faith and teaching of the Church would obstruct or even betray the university’s identity and mission…. Divergence from this vision weakens Catholic identity and, far from advancing freedom, inevitably leads to confusion, whether moral, intellectual or spiritual…. Teachers and administrators, whether in universities or schools, have the duty and privilege to ensure that students receive instruction in Catholic doctrine and practice. This requires that public witness to the way of Christ, as found in the Gospel and upheld by the Church’s Magisterium, shapes all aspects of an institution’s life, both inside and outside the classroom.
In his address Pope Benedict reinforces the notion that Catholic-sponsored institutions would fail in their duty if they did not provide adequate instruction in the religious tradition that supports the school. While an overly abstract understanding of academic freedom is only likely to bring confusion, academic freedom in its proper sense gives precisely the venue needed for the search for truth, wherever the evidence may lead.
Personal commitments and the university’s mission
In practice, I believe that there needs to be toleration for those who do not share a sponsoring institution’s outlook, but on the understanding that the specific mission goals of such a university may never be sidelined; rather, it must be given accurate presentation in any academic forum. This position does mean that we ought to resist the demand that every possible outlook be represented at a university; unless a given point of view produces scholars of the first rank, it has no claim to the status expected of a university faculty. Some will urge that it is not permissible to investigate a prospective member of the university’s beliefs, but only the person’s professional attainment and intellectual standing. But this also seems excessively abstract. In the effort to enhance the quest for intellectual progress and the teaching mission of a university, there has to be concern not just with the learning typical of a recognized discipline but also with the sort of truths that are associated with a person’s philosophy, that is, the insights that are not accessible by the relatively impersonal sort of thinking that is typical of training in a discipline but also those that require personal commitment. These are important concerns about the meaning of human existence, about the natural law that is beyond all jurisprudence, and about the reality of God, however ineffable and mysterious, and they will enter into the life of those who live and work at a university.
University faculty like to think of themselves as independent-minded. In many respects they are, for their training has generated habits of disciplined analysis. But in addition to learning in any area there is often a curious blindness to how little one knows outside the area of one’s discipline. The penchant of any professor to be a know-it-all can easily lead to the temptation to use one’s post as a bully pulpit for what is no more than an opinion. In our own day, the liberal biases of many graduate and professional schools can dull the awareness that this temptation specially afflicts the chattering classes.
The responsibility to use freedom for pursuing and presenting the truth
In this regard there is an immediate and direct implication of the relation between freedom and responsibility. Members of a university faculty should truly have the freedom to pursue truth according to the methods germane to their disciplines and should be free from interference by those outside the discipline. But it is also important to remember that in their use of this freedom they ought to remain true to the methods of their discipline that qualify them for the privilege of this freedom and that presenting themselves as authorities beyond the areas of their expertise risks misusing that freedom.
Of special interest to Catholic universities, of course, is the academic freedom of theologians and the proper use of this privilege. In this sphere there is need to bear in mind not only the standard considerations about methodology proper to any discipline, but also the specific grounding in the truth of divine revelation and the teachings of the Church for the areas of knowledge that are particularly the concern of theology. The teaching of Catholic theology in a Church-sponsored institution requires an acceptance of the truth of revelation and the teachings of the Church.
In addition to the moral responsibility that individual faculty members must shoulder in this area, there is also a responsibility on the administration of a Catholic university. Such a university must have a staunch commitment both to protect the proper freedom of theologians for their research and to insist that the members of the theology faculty present the teachings of the Church faithfully. The obligation here involves ensuring that the university honor its commitments to its sponsoring tradition and safeguarding the principle that one not exceed the areas of one’s professional expertise in teaching, particularly in areas of special sensitivity.
Consider, for example, the problems that can arise in courses on moral theology and ethics, an area where there can be strong personal convictions by faculty members but also an area where the Church has clear teachings. These courses might be courses in general ethics or one of the various specializations (medical ethics, business ethics, professional ethics, etc.). The need to have faculty members teaching within the area of their expertise will require that the university provide teachers suitably trained in Catholic moral theology and disposed to teach such courses in ethics in a way that is consistent with the university’s Catholic identity by being faithful to Catholic doctrine.
Faculty members who are not Catholic theologians or not willing to do this should identify themselves in such a way that will prevent confusion about this matter. Likewise, the obligation not to teach beyond one’s area of expertise should preclude faculty members in other departments who are not trained in ethics or moral theology from teaching or promoting varieties of ethics that are inconsistent with the university’s Catholic identity. To say this is in no way to put into doubt that such individuals may well have personal convictions on matters of ethics; in fact, it would be highly appropriate and advisable to organize suitable forums for the discussion of these matters in interdisciplinary circles. But it is not appropriate to have individuals who have never formally studied ethics offering courses identified as courses in ethics or moral values within the course offerings of their various disciplines. For instructors who have not themselves formally studied ethics or moral theology to be offering such courses would be cases of teaching outside the area of their professional expertise and thus to go beyond the privileges accorded to academic freedom properly understood.
Privilege, obligation, and right
When discussing academic freedom, we would do well to speak in terms of “privilege and “obligation.” Academic freedom is a privilege, not a right. The language of right should probably be reserved to “the pursuit of truth.” Individuals are privileged to come to a university for the purpose of seeking truth, both to participate in its discovery and to play a role in its dissemination. But the human right to pursue truth unconditionally and for its own sake is what governs the privilege and grounds the obligation of those exercising this right to make proper use of it. Getting this relationship right requires keeping sharp one’s intellectual conscience and exerting conscious and honest control over one’s creative impulses, especially by staying alert to the consequences, immediate and far-reaching, for one’s ideas.
There can be failures to observe these proprieties. One might consider, for instance, the sad history of the German universities in the period leading up to the Second World War. Despite the courageous resistance of some of its members, a university can collapse under the attack of a dictator. We need to acknowledge a special responsibility for such a collapse that lies at the feet of those university professors who care too little about the interaction between academic life and its social and political environment. The rationalizations and justifications used for the programs of forcible sterilization and the murder of the mentally ill seem to be recurring in our debates on abortion, embryonic stem-cell research, and euthanasia. The price of freedom is always vigilance and a readiness for sacrifice: in no walk of life may one take one’s post for granted and allow oneself not to see what one prefers not to see.
The dialectical tension between truth and freedom is one that academics sometimes do not like to hear about. Although a non-negotiable aspect of the life of a university, academic freedom is not an independent absolute but an absolute that stands in a dialectical relation to truth. Karl Jaspers put the point clearly when writing of those German universities:
Academic freedom can survive only if the scholars invoking it remain aware of its meaning. It does not mean the right to say what one pleases. Truth is much too difficult and great a task that it should be mistaken for the passionate exchange of half-truths spoken in the heat of the moment. It exists only where scholarly ends and a commitment to truth are involved. Practical objectives, educational bias, or political propaganda have no right to invoke academic freedom.
Academic freedom does not refer to the political concept of freedom of speech, let alone to the liberty of pure license in thought, but to the liberty that is the condition for the possibility of truth. In turn, the truth toward which academic work is ordered as its goal justifies the freedom provided at a university and protected by our understanding of a university’s privileges. Academic freedom exempts a faculty member from certain kinds of external constraints so as to enable that person better to honor the obligations of a scholar to intellectual thoroughness, method, and system.
The correlative safeguards for the proper use of that freedom will presumably have to be moral rather than legal. This is often the case with other kinds of authority, for the highest administrators of legal justice are near the summit of law and generally have no higher authority watching over them. We depend upon justice being in the heart of the judge as much as upon the checks and balances of power that are so crucial to our system of government, and yet are ever subject to corruption. The frustrations of academic life (e.g., when one simply has no success in the lab, at the clinic, or in one’s research) point out clearly enough that freedom may be the condition for truth, but it is not a guarantee that one will automatically achieve truth merely by hard work or persistence.
In my judgment, the dialectical relation between truth and freedom constitutes a central aspect of academic freedom. That all of a university’s branches of learning work with hypotheses of only relative validity and do not describe the whole of reality itself but only particular aspects in no way alters or denies the goal of truth that belongs to the idea of the university. There remains a need for the guidance in our endeavors that the idea of the unity of knowledge provides. Only the goal of truth pursued in responsible freedom, guided by a sense of the oneness of reality, can sustain our search to know all the particulars as a way of getting at that basic oneness and wholeness. The result of a commitment to this idea will be not just the protection of academic freedom but the maturation of an increasingly authentic idea of freedom in the individual and the community of the university.
Rev. Joseph W. Koterski, S.J., Ph.D., S.T.L. is an associate professor of philosophy at Fordham University in New York and editor-in-chief of International Philosophical Quarterly. He also serves as president of the Fellowship of Catholic Scholars.
Communion and the Ecclesial Vocation of the Theologian in Catholic Higher Education
Very Rev. J. Augustine DiNoia, O.P.
It should be admitted at the outset that the cozy juxtaposition of terms in my title, as much as they might reflect an ideal state of relations, do not fully correspond to the reality of the situation in which we find ourselves today in the United States of America.
For one thing, that the vocation of theologians is a properly ecclesial one has been and continues to be doubted, disputed, or denied. Even if it is conceded that the theological profession entails a calling of some kind, it is supposed that this would be primarily an academic or intellectual vocation, involving overriding allegiances, not to a church or denomination, but to one’s scholarly guild and the larger academic community. The code of free inquiry upheld by these communities is thought to exclude in principle the intrusion of non-scholarly considerations (such as creedal or dogmatic ones) and even more so the interference of representatives of non-academic communities (such as bishops or the Holy See) in the pursuit of the theologian’s specific intellectual vocation. In this perspective, if the possibility of an ecclesial vocation were to be granted at all, then it would presumably have to be defined and expressed in ways that did not contradict the supervening obligations of a strictly academic or intellectual vocation.
Furthermore, that the theologian has a place in higher education is a proposition that has not been self-evident at any time in the past hundred years, and that remains in doubt among Catholic and non-Catholic educators alike. The issue here concerns not theologians qua theologians but the field of theology itself. It may come as something of a surprise—especially to Catholics thinking of the historic importance of theological faculties in the great universities of western Europe—that theology found its place in American higher education only relatively late, with difficulty, and at a moment coinciding with the ascendancy of religious studies. With or without an ecclesial vocation, the theologian’s place in Catholic higher education at the present can hardly be said to be a secure one.
Finally, that institutions of higher learning could maintain recognizable—not to say institutional—bonds to the Catholic Church and still be true to their mission as modern research institutions has been and continues to be questioned by many, both within the Catholic Church and beyond it. Behind this doubt stretches a long history of which the period since the publication of Ex corde Ecclesiae is but the most recent phase. The view that church affiliation and academic integrity might be incompatible with one another has led many Catholic and Protestant institutions of higher learning over the past century to weaken or dissolve the affiliations that bound them to their founding ecclesial communities. The pressure to pursue this course has perhaps been felt more acutely by Catholic higher education because the polity of the Catholic Church, in contrast to that of most other churches and ecclesial communities, is perceived to allow for a more direct involvement in the life of the Catholic campus. In the years since Ex corde Ecclesiae, it has perhaps become clearer that the issue here is not just the maintenance of a Catholic identity but also participation in Catholic communion. Disagreements about how to track the relationships between the Catholic college or university and the Catholic Church influence perceptions of the theologian’s vocation, as well as judgments about his or her place in Catholic higher education.
It is clear then that, far from announcing the exposition of truths concerning which there is an undisturbed consensus in Catholic higher education in the United States, my title in effect introduces a set of disputed questions about which there are widespread and persistent doubts even within Catholic circles. In the form of powerful cultural assumptions, these doubts have influenced the actual shape of Catholic higher education in this country.
Catholic higher education and the ecclesiology of communion
The Church’s teaching authorities, while cognizant of these doubts, cannot be said to share them.
Consider higher education first. The Second Vatican Council reaffirmed the traditional Catholic view of the possibility and character of Church sponsorship of colleges and universities. Following upon and implementing the conciliar teaching were two companion documents: Sapientia Christiana, concerning the governance of ecclesiastically accredited institutions, and Ex corde Ecclesiae, concerning all other Catholic institutions of higher learning. These apostolic constitutions laid out the different ways that ecclesial communion is embodied by Catholic institutions of these diverse types. The publication of Sapientia Christiana initiated a period during which American ecclesiastical faculties brought their own statutes into line with the new legislation, while in 2000 the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops’ application of Ex corde Ecclesiae received official recognition by the Holy See. What is more, within postconciliar teaching, theology and education have been regularly addressed by Pope John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI in their many discourses and encyclicals.
The call to holiness and communion is central to understanding the confidence—one could as well say the absence of doubts—with which the Church advances her vision of Catholic higher education and the place of theology within it. The ecclesiology of communion is of fundamental importance in sustaining this confidence and in articulating this vision.
The gift of truth that we have received from Christ is this: to know that no one has ever wanted anything more than God wants to share the communion of His life with us. What Christ taught us and what we proclaim to the world is that the triune God invites all human persons to participate in the communion of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and with one another in them. Holiness is nothing less than the transformed capacity to enjoy this communion, and ecclesial communion is at root nothing less than trinitarian communion.
This basic truth of Catholic faith unfolds in an ensemble of other truths about creation, incarnation, redemption and sanctification. The central truths of the Christian faith find their deepest meaning in the reality of trinitarian communion. Everything created exists so that the Blessed Trinity could realize this plan of love. Through the incarnation and the paschal mystery, Christ enables creaturely persons to enter into the life of the uncreated Persons. In the Church, the Holy Spirit unites all those transformed in Christ and draws them into the communion of trinitarian love. Ecclesial communion is nothing less than the beginning of our participation in the life of the Blessed Trinity.
Pope John Paul II repeatedly described this communion as a “participated theonomy” which draws us into the communion of trinitarian love in such a way that our full humanity is fulfilled and at the same time transcended. This theme, frequently reiterated in the Holy Father’s great encyclicals, is fundamental for developing a properly Catholic understanding of the place of education and scholarship in human personal, social, and cultural life. In Christian faith, the human reality is not suppressed but is fully realized. To embrace the First Truth and the Absolute Good who is God is not to accept constraints on human reason and desire, but to free them for their divinely willed destiny.
The Church’s teaching and legislation regarding Catholic higher education are unintelligible apart from the ecclesiology of communion.
Autonomy and institutional bonds of Catholic higher education
It is clear that a wide range of teaching activities is required if the Church is to be able to communicate the gift of truth she has received from Christ. The institutional expression of these teaching activities has taken many different forms throughout Christian history. In the field of higher education the evidence for continuing and vigorous Catholic presence is indisputable. Far from experiencing any doubts about this possibility, the Church assumes as her rightful role the establishment of colleges and universities, and the maintenance of appropriate relations with them.
From a theological perspective, the genius of Catholic jurisprudence in this area arises from its underlying Christian humanism. As personal and social beings, the Christian faithful possess an inherent dignity and autonomy which must be respected if ecclesial communion is to be realized. The reality of communion presupposes the reality of persons in communion and, in an ordered community like the Catholic Church, the reality of institutions in communion. It would be self-contradictory to invoke the ecclesiology of communion as grounds for infringing upon the autonomy rightly enjoyed by persons and institutions, and thus juridically protected, in the Catholic Church. The very notion of being in communion presupposes the integrity and autonomy, if also the interdependence, of the participants in ecclesial communion. The concrete expression of a series of relationships by its very nature affirms the proper autonomy and distinctive competencies of the persons and institutions enjoying ecclesial communion.
Although the grace of ecclesial communion is in the deepest sense an invisible reality, it is not an abstraction. Catholic tradition insists that it must take visible form in concrete communities and in their social and institutional structures. In the aftermath of the Second Vatican Council, the Church has invited Catholic colleges and universities to internalize the renewed ecclesiology of communion in the structures of their institutions, and in different ways depending on whether they are ecclesiastically accredited or not.
The historical record in the United States supports the conclusion that, given the political and cultural pressures favoring increasing secularization over the past hundred years and into the foreseeable future, the Catholic identity of currently Catholic institutions of higher learning is not likely to be sustainable without concrete juridical bonds between these institutions and the Church. Naturally, in developing its teaching and legislation in this area, the Holy See does not have only the situation in the United States in view. But the practical implications of an ecclesiology of communion, formulated with the whole Catholic Church in view, nonetheless have particular urgency in a situation where “the disengagement of colleges and universities from their Christian churches” has become endemic. In his indispensable book on this topic, The Dying of the Light, Father James Burtchaell documented with considerable detail the informal arrangements by which hundreds of sincere and well-meaning faculty, administrators and church leaders of countless once church-related colleges and universities believed that they would be able to ensure the Lutheran, Presbyterian, Methodist, Anglican, and other denominational identities of their institutions. Without the adoption of juridical provisions, and relying solely on the good will and sense of commitment of Catholic educators and bishops—as was strongly suggested by some—few of the currently Catholic institutions of higher learning in the U.S. are likely to remain distinctively and recognizably Catholic. Even with the adoption of something like clearly stated juridical provisions of the USCCB Application, it may be that the secularizing trends will turn out to have been irreversible in some of the two hundred or more Catholic institutions of higher learning in the U.S.
Recent studies, including those by Father Burtchaell, Philip Gleason, John McGreevy, Philip Hamburger, and others, have made it possible to identify with greater precision the cultural and political forces operative in the relatively swift transformation that has occurred in Catholic higher education in the U.S. since the 1960s. Significant anti-Catholic cultural assumptions, which in part contributed to shaping public policy towards education, gave prevalence to the notion that church affiliation, most especially in the Catholic ambit, inevitably compromised the academic excellence, research capacity, and institutional autonomy of institutions enmeshed in such relationships. In addition, it was widely held that, because of their submissiveness to church authority, Catholics could never fully internalize the valued American traits of individual autonomy and freedom of thought and expression that would make for good citizens of the republic. In so far as they were not actively anti-religious, these forces favored the development of a broadly enlightened form of religiosity, free of ties to particular churches or denominations, and of the dogmatic and institutional commitments entailed by these ties. The impact of these cultural and political forces was aggravated after the Second Vatican Council, not only by the collapse of a distinctively Catholic culture, but also by the uncritical embrace of the secular culture (mistakenly thought to be warranted by the council’s constitution, Gaudium et spes). Catholic educators (and others) failed to recognize that the ambient culture, whose values they sought to embody institutionally, was not religiously neutral but often encoded with actively de-Christianizing assumptions.
The call to holiness and communion, reaffirmed by the Second Vatican Council and vigorously reasserted in the pontificate of Pope John Paul II, offers an opportunity for Catholic Church-related institutions of higher education in the U.S. to recover their distinctively Catholic identity and embody it in clearly expressed communal bonds with the Church. With a tradition of academic excellence and freedom of inquiry stretching back to the medieval universities, Catholic higher education should courageously address the range of anti-Catholic and, increasingly, anti-Christian prejudices that seek to exclude Catholics and other Christians from participation in public life and from influence on public policy. According to the Second Vatican Council, Catholic universities aim to ensure that the Christian outlook should acquire “a public, stable, and universal influence in the whole process of the promotion of higher culture.” As was true in the past, Catholic colleges and universities in the U.S. have an important contribution to make to the Christianization of American culture. George Lindbeck, the distinguished Lutheran theologian and astute observer of the Catholic scene, has written: “The waning of cultural Christianity may not be a good thing for societies. Traditionally Christian lands, when stripped of their historic faith, become unworkable and demonic…. Christianization of culture can be in some situations the church’s major contribution to feeding the poor, clothing the hungry and liberating the imprisoned.” Catholic institutions of higher learning can play a central role in helping the Church, as well as other Christian communities, to monitor the impact of mass culture on the communication of the faith and the expression of Catholic and Christian life in western postmodern societies.
The place of theology in Catholic higher education
In addition to articulating a comprehensive vision of Catholic higher education, both conciliar and post-conciliar teaching consistently assigned a central role to theology and its cognate disciplines in Catholic higher education. Following upon Gravissimum Educationis of the Second Vatican Council, the twin post-conciliar apostolic constitutions on higher education each assume that theology will find a place in the Catholic colleges and universities. As might be expected in a document that contains norms for ecclesiastical faculties and seminaries, Sapientia Christiana provides a complete picture of the curriculum of theology and its associated disciplines. But Ex corde Ecclesiae is no less explicit on the matter, even if it concedes that in certain situations nothing more than a chair of theology will be possible. Both documents affirm that the primary focus of theology is to investigate and explain the doctrines of the Catholic faith as drawn from revelation. It is assumed that this study will be pursued in a spirit of true freedom of inquiry, employing appropriate methods, and acknowledging the derived character of the knowledge sought and thus its dependence on divine revelation. Significantly, both documents ascribe important integrating functions to theology within the overall programs of Catholic colleges and universities, a traditional emphasis in the rationales for theology in almost all church-related higher education.
Studying these documents within the framework of Catholic history in western Europe, one might well expect the legitimacy of theology’s place in the curriculum of higher education to be self-evident. Indeed, as Cardinal Avery Dulles has noted, it is unrealistic not to include theology in the university curriculum since “the Church and the Catholic people legitimately expect that some universities will provide an intellectual environment in which the meaning and implications of the faith can be studied in relation to the whole realm of human knowledge.”
Nonetheless, for a variety of reasons, which are lately being subjected to more systematic study, the study of religion and theology did not enjoy an unchallenged place in the evolution of church-related, and indeed public, higher education in the U.S. Two brilliant books—D. G. Hart’s on the history of Protestant rationales for the study of theology and religion and Philip Gleason’s on the history of Catholic higher education in the twentieth century—give the topic the attention it deserves and at the same time provide fascinating reading for anyone interested in understanding the current situation of the study and teaching of religion and theology in American higher education.
Hart and Gleason show that in the United States throughout much of the nineteenth century, both Catholic and Protestant educators tended to view theology as a discipline that belonged in the seminary, not in the college or university. In church-affiliated Catholic and Protestant colleges, religious instruction was more likely to be seen as catechetical and moral formation than as properly theological inquiry. Later, with the emergence of the modern research university, Protestant educators struggled to legitimate teaching and research in the Christian religion while at the same time downplaying the particular denominational entailments such teaching and research might otherwise involve. Catholic higher education in early twentieth century America tended to give a central role to religiously colored philosophical studies rather than to theology itself. Between the 1920s and the 1950s, neoscholastic philosophy played an influential role in curricular integration in Catholic colleges and universities and in the provision of the self-understanding that gave Catholic culture its shape. During this period, theology properly so-called only gradually began to find a place in Catholic higher education, though kerygmatic, liturgical, and Thomistic approaches remained in contention as Catholic educators strove to identify the kind of teaching that would be appropriate for undergraduates. Inevitably, both Protestant and Catholic curricula were influenced by the teaching of theology as conducted in their seminaries. For different but related reasons, neither Protestant nor Catholic university theology enjoyed the undiluted respect of the broader academic community. With the erosion of the hold of neo-orthodoxy in Protestant theology and the collapse of the neoscholastic synthesis in Catholic higher education, the 1960s were a time of crisis for both Catholic and Protestant theological and religious educators. The 1960s set in motion powerful cultural and educational trends that eventuated in the widespread (albeit unstable) prevalence of religious studies in Catholic, Protestant, and public higher education.
In Catholic higher education, the displacement of theology by religious studies poses significant challenges. Frank Schubert’s important study of this shift covers the crucial period 1955-1985 and demonstrates the steady move away from courses engaging in appropriation of the Catholic tradition toward courses in the history, anthropology, and sociology of religion. While admitting areas of overlap between theology and religious studies, most scholars acknowledge the fundamental difference in perspective represented by the approaches to religious realities in these diverse fields. Whereas theology takes the claim to truth made by the sources of Christian revelation as its framework, the field(s) of religious studies systematically bracket the claims to truth made for contending religious traditions. For theology, revelation provides the principles for inquiry, and the truth of Christian doctrines is the basic assumption for this inquiry. For religious studies, the world’s religions present a richly diverse set of texts, institutions, rites, and other phenomena, which are studied employing a range of humanistic and social scientific methodologies.
In Catholic colleges and universities where this shift is complete and likewise unchallenged, it is difficult for theology to maintain its integrity and finality as fides quaerens intellectum. Apart from any other secularizing pressures that might be operative, in the midst of predominantly religious studies departments, theology itself can easily yield to the methods and perspectives of the study of religion. As we shall see shortly, the transformation of theology into a branch of religious studies makes it nearly unintelligible to claim for theologians any properly ecclesial vocation or even connection with the believing community.
The ecclesial vocation of the theologian
What must be surely regarded as among the most significant official documents on the place of the theologian in the Church appeared in 1990. It was prepared by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith and was confidently entitled “The Ecclesial Vocation of the Theologian.”
Although the documents of the Second Vatican Council mentioned theology and theologians at various points—perhaps most notably in the Constitution on Divine Revelation (Dei Verbum), the Constitution on the Church (Lumen Gentium), and the Decree on Priestly Formation (Optatam Totius)—the council did not make this theme the focus of an extended treatment. Given the impact that the council had on the work of theologians, this may come as something of a surprise—all the more so perhaps, since it was “the great blossoming of theology between the world wars which made the Second Vatican Council possible.” After the conclusion of the council the continuing contribution of theologians was institutionalized in a remarkable way when Pope Paul VI established the International Theological Commission in 1969.
The CDF Instruction reflects the Church’s renewed consciousness of the centrality of the role of the theologian in her life. Reprising significant elements of the Catholic tradition, as articulated in conciliar and post-conciliar teaching, the Instruction forcefully argues that the theologian’s vocation is a properly ecclesial one and, as in the case of Catholic colleges and universities, that the bonds of ecclesial communion implied by this relationship can be expressed juridically. The CDF Instruction may be taken as a robust reminder that the call to holiness and communion comes to theologians at least in part through the mediation of their ecclesial vocation precisely as theologians.
At the start of his splendid book, The Shape of Theology, Father Aidan Nichols asks the question: “What sort of person must I be in order to become a theologian?”—to which we might well add, “and in order to continue being one.” This, in effect, is the arresting question posed by the CDF document. In addressing this question, the Instruction takes up in turn the divine gift of truth, the vocation of the theologian, and the role of the Magisterium. Under its consideration of the role of the Magisterium, the Instruction gives extended attention to the problem of theological dissent.
But what is particularly noteworthy is that the Instruction begins, not with the Magisterium, but with the gift of divine truth. Indeed, the Instruction’s Latin title is Donum Veritatis, “the gift of truth.” Because theology is not simply an “ancillary function” of the Magisterium, we need to locate the theologian and the work of theology in the broader context of the life of Church, precisely as she is the locus of a truth which she did not generate but which she received as a gift. At the center of this truth is the person of Jesus Christ who reveals the divine desire to draw us into the communion of trinitarian love and, moreover, who enables us to enjoy this communion. The function of the Magisterium is to guard and teach this truth in its entirety which the Church received as a gift and is bound to hand on. For this reason, according to Cardinal Ratzinger, the Instruction “treats the ecclesial mission of the theologian not in a duality of Magisterium-theology, but rather in the framework of a triangular relationship defined by the people of God, bearer of the sensus fidei, the Magisterium, and theology.” In different ways, therefore, both the Magisterium and theology are servants of a prior truth, received in the Church as a gift.
Perhaps the most important contribution of the Instruction is to have secured in this way what Cardinal Ratzinger called the “ecclesial identity of theology” and, correspondingly, the ecclesial vocation of the theologian. In the words of the Instruction itself: “Among the vocations awakened… by the Spirit in the Church is that of the theologian… [whose] role is to pursue in a particular way an ever deeper understanding of the Word of God found in the inspired Scriptures and handed on by the living Tradition of the Church… [which he does] in communion with the Magisterium which has been charged with the responsibility of preserving the deposit of faith.” The theological vocation responds to the intrinsic dynamic of faith which “appeals to reason” and “beckons reason… to come to understand what it has believed.” In this way, “theological science responds to the invitation of truth as it seeks to understand the faith.” But the theological vocation also responds to the dynamic of love, for “in the act of faith, man knows God’s goodness and begins to love Him… [and] is ever desirous of a better knowledge of the beloved.”
The gift of truth received in the Church thus establishes both the context for the vocation and mission of the theologian, and the framework for the actual practice of the discipline of theology. This ecclesially received truth, as articulated in the deposit of faith and handed on by the Magisterium, constitutes not an extrinsic authority that poses odious limits on an inquiry that would otherwise be free but an intrinsic source and measure that gives theology its identity and finality as an intellectual activity. Hence, as Cardinal Ratzinger asks, “Is theology for which the Church is no longer meaningful really a theology in the proper sense of the word?” Examined independently of the assent of faith and the mediation of the ecclesial community, the texts, institutions, rites, and beliefs of the Catholic Church can be the focus of the humanistic, philosophical, and social scientific inquiries that together constitute the field of religious studies. But Christian theology is a different kind of inquiry. Cut off from an embrace of the truth that provides its subject matter and indicates the methods appropriate to its study, theology as the Church has always understood it loses its specific character as a scientific inquiry of a certain type. Its precise scope is to seek the intelligibility of a truth received in faith by the theologian who is himself a member of the ecclesial community that is, as Cardinal Walter Kasper has said, “the place of truth.”
The theologian is thus free to seek the truth within limits imposed, not by an intrusive external authority, but by the nature of his discipline as such. As the Instruction points out: “Freedom of research, which the academic community holds most precious, means an openness to accepting the truth that emerges at the end of an investigation in which no element has intruded that is foreign to the methodology corresponding to the object under study.” Theology cannot “deny its own foundations,” to use the words of Cardinal Dulles; the acceptance of the authority and Scripture and doctrines in theology is “not a limitation but rather the charter of its existence and freedom to be itself.” The freedom of inquiry proper to theology, is, according to the CDF Instruction, the “hallmark of a rational discipline whose object is given by Revelation, handed on and interpreted in the Church under the authority of the Magisterium, and received by faith. These givens have the force of principles. To eliminate them would mean to cease doing theology.” The principles of theology, as we noted earlier, are derived from revelation, and constitute the discipline as such. In accepting them, the theologian is simply being true to the nature of his subject, and to his vocation as a scholar in this field.
These elements of the Instruction’s account of the theological vocation are ferociously contested in today’s academy, largely on the basis of what Lindbeck has called the “individualistic foundational rationalism” which shapes the deepest cultural assumptions of modernity. But the Church has a solid, well-substantiated, and historically warranted rationale for its account of the nature of theology as an intellectual discipline of a particular sort, and of the responsibilities of its practitioners. In the present circumstances, we need to make this case without apology. It is central to the convictions of the Catholic Church, and indeed of the Christian tradition as such, to give priority to a theonomous rather than to an autonomous rationality. It so happens that certain postmodern intellectual trends have begun to advance what Alasdair MacIntyre calls the traditioned character of all rational inquiry and Lindbeck calls the socially and linguistically constituted character of belief. This intellectual climate is, to a certain extent, more favorable to the defense of the principle of theonomous rationality that is crucial for the Catholic understanding of theology. But it must be recognized that the basis for this understanding is itself a properly theological one that is rooted in fundamental Christian convictions about the gift of truth and its reception in the ecclesial community.
The Church embodies her understanding of the nature of theology and of the ecclesial vocation of the theologian by, according to both the discipline and its practitioners, a role in Catholic higher education according to the principles of the ecclesiology of communion which we considered earlier.
According to Ex corde Ecclesiae and Sapientia Christiana, the standard theological disciplines include: sacred Scripture, dogmatic theology, moral theology, pastoral theology, canon law, liturgy, and church history. Those teaching these disciplines are invited to make a profession of faith and oath of fidelity in order to express the derived character of these disciplines and the ecclesial space they inhabit. These formulas in effect allow the scholar to express a promise to respect the principles of his or her field as well as the personal communion of the theologian with the Church. Viewed in this light, theological disciplines and their practitioners are in a situation analogous to other disciplines and to scholars in other fields which are supervised by professional societies, by peer review, and by a whole range of certifying and accrediting bodies who maintain the standards within these fields and the credibility which they rightly enjoy among the general public.
In addition, the Church offers a canonical mission to theologians teaching in ecclesiastical faculties, and a mandatum to those teaching in all other institutions of higher learning. Although both the canonical mission and the mandatum have provoked controversy, the necessity of the canonical mission is perhaps better understood within the context of ecclesiastically accredited faculties. Here, I will confine my remarks to the mandatum.
The nature of the mandatum referred to in Ex corde Ecclesiae is best understood in the light of the Second Vatican Council’s decree on the laity: “Thus, making various dispositions of the apostolate according to the circumstances, the hierarchy enjoins some particular form of it more closely with its own apostolic function. Yet the proper nature and distinctiveness of each apostolate must be preserved, and the laity must not be deprived of the possibility of acting on their own accord. In various church documents this procedure of the hierarchy is call a mandate.” (Apostolicam Actuositatem 24). While the mandatum has a different juridical character from the canonical mission of professors teaching in ecclesiastical faculties as required by Sapientia Christiana, both express in a concrete way the ecclesial identity of the theologian. According to canonist Father Reginald Whitt, the above-mentioned mandate “refers to those apostolic activities that remain activities proper to the laity in virtue of their baptism yet joined closely to the apostolic ministry of the bishop.” A Catholic professor of theology in a Catholic university is thus considered “as one of the faithful engaged in the higher education apostolate entitled and required to obtain endorsement from the competent hierarch.”
In requiring the mandatum (and, for that matter, the canonical mission) the Church acknowledges that the Catholic theologian pursues his or her inquiries under the light of revelation as contained in Scripture and tradition and proclaimed by the Magisterium. In seeking the mandatum, the individual theologian gives a concrete expression to the relationship of ecclesial communion that exists between the Church and the Catholic teacher of a theological discipline in a Catholic institution of higher learning. The acceptance of the mandatum does not make the pursuit and recognition of truth a matter of obedience to authority: as we have seen, it is not that the doctrines of the faith are true because the Magisterium teaches them, but that the Magisterium teaches them because they are true. It is the Catholic conviction that the
truths of faith point ultimately to nothing less than the First Truth itself, whose inner intelligibility constantly draws the inquiring mind to himself. The acceptance of the mandatum by a theologian is simply the public affirmation and social expression of this fundamental Catholic conviction.
Conclusion
We have considered the ecclesial vocation of the theologian in Catholic higher education and the ecclesiology of communion. We began with a series of doubts, but we end on a note of confidence. Surely, if the example of Pope Benedict XVI teaches us nothing else, it should teach us confidence in the inherent attractiveness of the Christian faith, and, in particular, the Catholic vision of higher education and of the vocation of the theologian. While the assumptions of the ambient culture will not always be friendly to it, this vision nonetheless deserves to be presented fully and without compromise. Indeed, because the call to holiness and communion originates not with us but with Christ, our hearers deserve from us a confident and unapologetic invitation to share a vision of human life that finds its consummation in the divine life of trinitarian communion. Nothing less will do.
Very Rev. J. Augustine DiNoia, O.P., Ph.D., S.T.M., is undersecretary of the Vatican Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. He was previously executive director of the Secretariat for Doctrine and Pastoral Practices at the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops and professor of theology on the Pontifical Faculty of the Dominican House of Studies in Washington, D.C.
Catholic Campus Ministry: Christocentric Accompaniment
Rev. Msgr. Stuart W. Swetland
It began with music. Fr. Karol Wojtyla, a 31-year old parish priest who later would be known the world over as Pope John Paul II, had recently been assigned as an assistant at St. Florian’s Parish in Krakow. His duties included the role of campus ministry to the many university students in the parish. But how was he to minister to these students in 1951 Stalinist Poland? He began with music.
By Polish tradition (following the pre-Vatican II calendar), February 2nd (the Feast of the Presentation) ends the Christmas season. It is the “last chance” to sing Christmas carols. On February 2, 1951, Fr. Wojtyla invited some university students to the parish to sing carols. He also began to teach them Gregorian Chant. Soon he had developed a regular student choir for the parish. But Fr. Wojtyla was teaching more than music. The choir practices afforded him the opportunity to begin a real relationship with those who participated in it. Soon these students would also be attending a special Wednesday morning Mass and a Thursday evening conference and inviting their friends. Wojtyla’s campus ministry had begun.
During this incredibly fruitful time for Fr. Wojtyla’s ministry, he developed many of the ideas and themes that would serve him—and through his papacy, the Church and the world—so well in the future. These included his understanding of the relationship of philosophy and theology, his “theology of the body,” and the idea of young adult retreats that eventually became World Youth Days. However, underlying all of these developments was his basic pastoral approach to campus ministry. Fr. Wojtyla made the conscious decision to approach his pastoral assignment through what his biographer George Weigel calls “the ministry of accompaniment.” The young priest would “accompany” the university students placed in his charge as they journeyed from childhood into the world of adults.
This basic pastoral stance is not without its dangers. Many older adults think the way to relate to the younger generation is to become like them. This runs the double danger of insincerity and foolishness. Fr. Wojtyla’s accompaniment was different. While he did truly share his life with the students, even vacationing with them so that he could further instruct and serve them, he never attempted to become like them. Rather, he modeled the life of a fully formed Christ-centered adult so well that he made his students want to be like him. Weigel records that one of his former students, Stanislaw Rybicki, understood this well when he stated: “Today, many priests try to be like the kids. We were trying to be like him.”
What made Fr. Wojtyla’s accompaniment different was that he was not just “hanging out” with the students through some vague “ministry of presence.” Rather his accompaniment was grounded in a thorough, total embrace of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. His accompaniment was absolutely Christocentric. As one of his students wrote in a pseudonymously signed article in the underground press of the time, Wojtyla taught them “to look at all things in the spirit of the Gospel.”
George Weigel’s massive biography had not been published when I began working in campus ministry in the early 1990s. However, enough of Pope John Paul II’s life and writings were published for me to glean the essence of his pastoral approach. I attempted to focus the entirety of the campus ministries that I had the privilege to serve on “Christocentric accompaniment”—to accompany the students as they made the journey to adulthood and help them focus on the person and teaching of Jesus Christ so that they may begin “to look at all things in the spirit of the Gospel.”
In post-war Communist Poland there were great pressures brought to bear upon the young adults to abandon the faith. If loyalty to the Church could not be eradicated from the young, the authorities at least wanted to isolate Church activities from the rest of society. In particular, they wanted the young to separate their faith from the rest of their lives. Weigel writes, “In Poland as elsewhere, communism deliberately fostered the fragmentation of society and the atomization of its members, the better to maintain political control and the easier to form ‘new socialist man.’”
While the powers that be in the United States have no such official policy, the social and political forces of today have a similar effect on young (and not so young) adults. The affluence in our society tends towards atomization, and various societal pressures tend toward asking of us, either explicitly or implicitly, a separation of faith from life. Catholics and Catholic university campuses are not immune from the temptation to compartmentalize our lives. Faith and the commitment to Christ can be seen as something to be limited to the one or two theology courses that are required of most students. Often these courses, attempting to cover everything and present all theological viewpoints, leave the students even more bewildered and lacking any core understanding of the purpose and meaning of Christ and His Church. Fortunately, many universities (like Mount St. Mary’s where I currently serve) are recognizing this problem and attempting to address the need to integrate faith and life in every aspect of the curriculum and campus life. However, this can only be done if campus ministry is providing the necessary atmosphere and opportunity for students to integrate their lives through prayer, study, and the sacramental life of the Church.
To be authentically Christocentric, the priests, religious, and laity who serve in campus ministry must be people who “think with the mind of the Church” (sentire cum ecclesia). All too often people are drawn (or worse, get assigned) to campus ministry who are dissenters or who struggle with fidelity to the Church’s sacramental practices. Perhaps people believe that the best place for such ministers is on a college campus where new and creative ideas are all the rage. In fact, the last place that any such people should be is anywhere near campus ministry. College-age students are at an incredibly important and vulnerable time in their faith development. During the ages 18-25 (or perhaps better in our age 18-30), young people must make adult decisions about the faith moving from the inherited faith of childhood toward a “fully owned” adult faith commitment. Hopefully, they will discern their vocation during this period. In addition, they will more than likely form the most important adult relationships of their lives (including meeting and perhaps marrying their spouse). Partly because of our dismal record in catechizing the young, partly because of the nature of this vulnerable time of life, young adults need a “meat and potatoes” approach to campus ministry. They do not need dissent and disobedience.
When I first started campus ministry, I took the Oath of Fidelity required of new pastors. I did this publicly, in front of a congregation of many of my students including most of the student leaders. I told them that they deserved in justice from their campus ministers two things: (1) the teaching and preaching of the Gospel whole and entire in accordance with the authentic teaching of the Magisterium of the Church and (2) the joyful celebration of the sacraments of the Church in accordance with the Church’s liturgical rubrics and norms.
All campus ministers and ministries should provide the same. It is a basic starting point for effective ministry and models for the students a Christ-like fidelity and obedience. The students will have their faith challenged in plenty of settings and situations; they will hear dissent from many quarters. They do not need to experience it from their campus ministry. In addition, making it clear that the students can expect to hear what the Church teaches and to experience what the sacred liturgy is meant to be, creates a much-needed attitude of peace and serenity in campus ministry amidst what can often be the whirlwind of college life. For too long, generations of college students have had to endure the “fluffiest” of teaching (often at odds with the Magisterium) and the lunacy of the latest fads at Mass. Campus ministers of all types have unjustly imposed their own ideas of “innovation” onto an unsuspecting and unprepared college community. Clown masses, “liturgical dancing,” black lights and gimmicks of all sorts have been forced upon students. The students usually vote with their feet. They do not want, and certainly do not need, at this point of their lives, such novelties. They are looking for some stability, real answers, authentic prayer, and deep spirituality in campus ministry. The gospel provides the kind of answers for which they seek; the liturgy, celebrated as the Church intends it, provides the “living space” for them to come into authentic contact with the Living Lord. Justice demands of the Church’s ministers that we provide it.
Campus ministry must also be a “school of prayer.” Campus ministers need to have a profound prayer life of depth and substance. Of course, all are called to such prayer, but in particular campus ministers will need such a spiritual life because of the demands of their vocation. Long hours, stressful days, constant demands, an almost infinite need for their help and guidance from their students means that campus ministers must be well-grounded in the Lord or they will quickly “burn out” or self-destruct.
But in addition to their personal need for prayer, campus ministers must be a model of prayerfulness for their people. Mark Twain used to joke that politics is all about sincerity—if you can fake that, you’ve got it made! Well campus ministry is all about sincerity, and you cannot fake this sincerity. The young, especially the young of the Millennial Generation now in college, can spot a phony at one hundred paces. Many of them and/or their friends have been lied to and betrayed at every turn. They are skeptical of those in authority because they have let them down so often. They long, they search for people who are authentic—people who live what they proclaim.
Campus ministry (and each campus minister) must, as much as possible, radiate Jesus Christ in word and sacrament in everything that it does. This is what Pope John Paul II called for in Veritatis Splendor when he spoke of the sequela Christi—the following of Christ—in all things. This is the central teaching of one of the finest theologians of the last century, Hans Urs von Balthasar (made a Cardinal by John Paul II), when he wrote, “For this reason, lest everything in the Church become superficial and insipid, the true, undiminished program for the Church today must read; the greatest possible radiance in the world by virtue of the closest possible following of Christ.” By radiating Christ in all things, campus ministry will give witness to the beauty, truth, goodness, and unity possible in, with, and through Christ and His Church. It will allow the students to flourish in their journey to full adult membership in the Church.
Adult faith formation
During the college years, most people make an adult decision about their faith life. Studies have shown that if Catholics practice the faith during their college years, they will almost always remain an active member of the Church. Conversely, all too many of the fallen-away Catholics began their rebellion during their college years. This is why there must be many programs and opportunities on our campuses for adult faith formation. Bible studies, prayer groups, small group experiences, classes, reading groups, question and answer sessions, individual counseling and spiritual direction, Catholic societies, and professional groups are just some of the ministries that will be needed. Hopefully, campus ministry is supported by a vibrant academic community which is dedicated to helping students integrate faith and life. Of course, an excellent and faithful theology department is essential to this task. One very central moment in adult faith formation is the Sunday liturgy where the homily should be a model of solid, practical, enlightening proclamation of the beauty and grandeur of the gospel.
Vocational discernment
The idea of vocation should be an essential unifying theme for campus ministry. As a young campus minister, Fr. Wojtyla taught his students to view life vocationally. Weigel reports that “he once told Danuta Rybicka, whether one lived in a convent, in marriage, or as a single person in the world, ‘You have to live for a concrete purpose.’”
Not only did Fr. Wojtyla counsel this in personal encounters, but as Supreme Pontiff he made this concept the focal point of his first letter to the youth of the world before the very first World Youth Day. In this letter he used the story of the Rich Young Man’s encounter with Jesus in the gospel (Mk 10:17-22, Mt 19:16-22, Lk 18:18-23):
As he was setting out on a journey, a man ran up, knelt down before him, and asked him, “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus answered him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the commandments: ‘You shall not kill; you shall not commit adultery; you shall not steal; you shall not bear false witness; you shall not defraud; honor your father and your mother.’” He replied and said to him, “Teacher, all of these I have observed from my youth.” Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said to him, “You are lacking in one thing. Go, sell what you have, and give to (the) poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” At that statement his face fell, and he went away sad, for he had many possessions. (Mk. 10:17-22)
This well-known story was used by John Paul II to illustrate some central teachings of the Second Vatican Council on vocation.
The story is filled with pathos. Obviously, the rich young man is drawn to Jesus. He sees something in him that touches him and makes him believe that perhaps Jesus can answer his questions. He is willing to abandon his social status by running after this poor homeless, rabbi and kneeling in front of him. He asks Jesus a great question, “What must I do to inherit everlasting life?” How like the young to have such wonderful questions!
Jesus tells him that he already knows the answer: keep the commandments. As John Paul II points out, what Jesus has said to the young man is that he is called, as we all are, to be holy—to be a saint. This is what the Second Vatican Council called “the universal call to holiness.” All are called to sanctity. Campus ministry must help instill in young people a genuine “hunger and thirst for righteousness” (Mt 5:6).
But the story does not end there. The young man has been trying to live the commandments, to live a holy life, but he knows there is something more. “What more must I do?” Jesus, looking at him with love, tells him he must sell everything, give it to the poor, and then come and follow him. This young man was called to be a radical disciple, like the apostles were, following Jesus wherever he went.
Not everyone is called to such a witness to Jesus. But this man was. This was this young man’s particular vocation, his unique calling. He refuses and thus “goes away sad.” Campus ministry must help students have an authentic encounter with the Lord. They should help and guide students as they struggle to live lives of holiness. They should provide the time and space convenient for student’s schedules to frequent the sacraments (especially mass and confession). Campus ministry should challenge students to ask what it is that God is calling them to do and be. Abiding joy comes from following Jesus by doing the will of the Father. Campus ministers should help students discern their particular call so that no one will “go away sad” because they missed or refused God’s invitation to greatness.
Forming adult friendships
The college years provide a wonderful opportunity to begin the most significant adult relationships in one’s life. Campus ministry should aid students by providing the type of atmosphere where healthy and holy friendships can be formed and deepened. Social events, support groups, peer ministry, retreats, service opportunities, etc. all provide the kind of place and space where Christ-centered friendship can flourish.
Some of these friendships might develop into dating relationships. Campus ministers should encourage young men and women to view dating as discernment. Numerous classes and discussions on the Church’s teaching on sex and sexuality ought to be offered. Peer ministry in these areas can be helpful as can presentations focusing on the theology of the body. In their heart of hearts, most young Catholics want to be chaste and to discover who, if anyone, they are called to marry. Campus ministers should strive to help create the kind of atmosphere where it is easy to be good and normal (even “cool”) to be chaste.
A healthy campus ministry will also be heavily involved with preparing couples to marry. In many ways, the college campus is a privileged place for such preparation. This will entail coordinating many people to aid in the preparation, not the least of which is several couples who are certified teachers of Natural Family Planning (NFP).
In all these aspects of campus ministry, the goal of the campus minister is to meet the students wherever they are at in their journey with Christ and to accompany them as they move closer to the Lord. Notice that Pope John Paul II started with music. The young wanted to sing popular Christmas carols. That is where he met them. But he did not leave them there. He took them deeper. He introduced them to Gregorian Chant. But what is more, he began from this music ministry to form, holistically, these young men and women into the Christian disciples they were called to be.
The minister often acts as a guide and companion along the way. Sometimes the minister is more akin to a parental figure; sometimes more an aunt or uncle; friend or sibling. But the goal is always a Christ-centered journey by a Christ-centered community.
John Paul II in the end of his “Letter to the Youth of the World” holds up Mary for our contemplation as a model of this type of young adult ministry. He writes,
we have before our eyes the image of Mary, who accompanies Christ at the beginning of His mission among men. This is the Mary of Cana of Galilee, who intercedes for the young people, for the newly-married couple when at the marriage feast the wine for the guests runs out. Then Christ’s Mother says these words to those serving at the feast: “Do whatever he tells you.” He, the Christ. I repeat these words of the Mother of God and I address them to you, to each one of you young people: “Do whatever Christ tells you.”
Mary accompanies the Church as we travel to our heavenly Cana. She intercedes and protects, guides and acts as a model of faithfulness. May all of us entrusted with the apostolate of campus ministry imitate her as she imitated her Son and Our Lord.
Monsignor Stuart W. Swetland, S.T.D., is vice president for Catholic identity and holds the ArchBishop Harry J. Flynn Endowed Chair for Christian Ethics at Mount St. Mary’s University in Emmitsburg, Maryland. He served for more than a decade as director of Newman Centers at Bradley University and University of Illinois.
Appendix
Address to Catholic Educators at The Catholic University of America
His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI
April 17, 2008
Your Eminences,
Dear Brother Bishops,
Distinguished Professors, Teachers and Educators,
“How beautiful are the footsteps of those who bring good news” (Rom 10:15-17). With these words of Isaiah quoted by Saint Paul, I warmly greet each of you—bearers of wisdom—and through you the staff, students, and families of the many and varied institutions of learning that you represent. It is my great pleasure to meet you and to share with you some thoughts regarding the nature and identity of Catholic education today. I especially wish to thank Father David O’Connell, President and Rector of the Catholic University of America. Your kind words of welcome are much appreciated. Please extend my heartfelt gratitude to the entire community—faculty, staff, and students—of this University.
Education is integral to the mission of the Church to proclaim the Good News. First and foremost every Catholic educational institution is a place to encounter the living God who in Jesus Christ reveals his transforming love and truth (cf. Spe Salvi, 4). This relationship elicits a desire to grow in the knowledge and understanding of Christ and his teaching. In this way those who meet him are drawn by the very power of the Gospel to lead a new life characterized by all that is beautiful, good, and true; a life of Christian witness nurtured and strengthened within the community of our Lord’s disciples, the Church.
The dynamic between personal encounter, knowledge, and Christian witness is integral to the diakonia of truth which the Church exercises in the midst of humanity. God’s revelation offers every generation the opportunity to discover the ultimate truth about its own life and the goal of history. This task is never easy; it involves the entire Christian community and motivates each generation of Christian educators to ensure that the power of God’s truth permeates every dimension of the institutions they serve. In this way, Christ’s Good News is set to work, guiding both teacher and student towards the objective truth which, in transcending the particular and the subjective, points to the universal and absolute that enables us to proclaim with confidence the hope which does not disappoint (cf. Rom 5:5). Set against personal struggles, moral confusion, and fragmentation of knowledge, the noble goals of scholarship and education, founded on the unity of truth and in service of the person and the community, become an especially powerful instrument of hope.
Dear friends, the history of this nation includes many examples of the Church’s commitment in this regard. The Catholic community here has in fact made education one of its highest priorities. This undertaking has not come without great sacrifice. Towering figures, like Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton and other founders and foundresses, with great tenacity and foresight, laid the foundations of what is today a remarkable network of parochial schools contributing to the spiritual well-being of the Church and the nation. Some, like Saint Katharine Drexel, devoted their lives to educating those whom others had neglected—in her case, African Americans and Native Americans. Countless dedicated Religious Sisters, Brothers, and Priests together with selfless parents have, through Catholic schools, helped generations of immigrants to rise from poverty and take their place in mainstream society.
This sacrifice continues today. It is an outstanding apostolate of hope, seeking to address the material, intellectual, and spiritual needs of over three million children and students. It also provides a highly commendable opportunity for the entire Catholic community to contribute generously to the financial needs of our institutions. Their long-term sustainability must be assured. Indeed, everything possible must be done, in cooperation with the wider community, to ensure that they are accessible to people of all social and economic strata. No child should be denied his or her right to an education in faith, which in turn nurtures the soul of a nation.
Some today question the Church’s involvement in education, wondering whether her resources might be better placed elsewhere. Certainly in a nation such as this, the State provides ample opportunities for education and attracts committed and generous men and women to this honorable profession. It is timely, then, to reflect on what is particular to our Catholic institutions. How do they contribute to the good of society through the Church’s primary mission of evangelization?
All the Church’s activities stem from her awareness that she is the bearer of a message which has its origin in God himself: in his goodness and wisdom, God chose to reveal himself and to make known the hidden purpose of his will (cf. Eph 1:9; Dei Verbum, 2). God’s desire to make himself known, and the innate desire of all human beings to know the truth, provide the context for human inquiry into the meaning of life. This unique encounter is sustained within our Christian community: the one who seeks the truth becomes the one who lives by faith (cf. Fides et Ratio, 31). It can be described as a move from “I” to “we,” leading the individual to be numbered among God’s people.
This same dynamic of communal identity—to whom do I belong?—vivifies the ethos of our Catholic institutions. A university or school’s Catholic identity is not simply a question of the number of Catholic students. It is a question of conviction—do we really believe that only in the mystery of the Word made flesh does the mystery of man truly become clear (cf. Gaudium et Spes, 22)? Are we ready to commit our entire self—intellect and will, mind and heart—to God? Do we accept the truth Christ reveals? Is the faith tangible in our universities and schools? Is it given fervent expression liturgically, sacramentally, through prayer, acts of charity, a concern for justice, and respect for God’s creation? Only in this way do we really bear witness to the meaning of who we are and what we uphold.
From this perspective one can recognize that the contemporary “crisis of truth” is rooted in a “crisis of faith”. Only through faith can we freely give our assent to God’s testimony and acknowledge him as the transcendent guarantor of the truth he reveals. Again, we see why fostering personal intimacy with Jesus Christ and communal witness to his loving truth is indispensable in Catholic institutions of learning. Yet we all know, and observe with concern, the difficulty or reluctance many people have today in entrusting themselves to God. It is a complex phenomenon and one which I ponder continually. While we have sought diligently to engage the intellect of our young, perhaps we have neglected the will. Subsequently we observe, with distress, the notion of freedom being distorted. Freedom is not an opting out. It is an opting in—a participation in Being itself. Hence authentic freedom can never be attained by turning away from God. Such a choice would ultimately disregard the very truth we need in order to understand ourselves. A particular responsibility therefore for each of you, and your colleagues, is to evoke among the young the desire for the act of faith, encouraging them to commit themselves to the ecclesial life that follows from this belief. It is here that freedom reaches the certainty of truth. In choosing to live by that truth, we embrace the fullness of the life of faith which is given to us in the Church.
Clearly, then, Catholic identity is not dependent upon statistics. Neither can it be equated simply with orthodoxy of course content. It demands and inspires much more: namely that each and every aspect of your learning communities reverberates within the ecclesial life of faith. Only in faith can truth become incarnate and reason truly human, capable of directing the will along the path of freedom (cf. Spe Salvi, 23). In this way our institutions make a vital contribution to the mission of the Church and truly serve society. They become places in which God’s active presence in human affairs is recognized and in which every young person discovers the joy of entering into Christ’s “being for others” (cf. ibid., 28).
The Church’s primary mission of evangelization, in which educational institutions play a crucial role, is consonant with a nation’s fundamental aspiration to develop a society truly worthy of the human person’s dignity. At times, however, the value of the Church’s contribution to the public forum is questioned. It is important therefore to recall that the truths of faith and of reason never contradict one another (cf. First Vatican Ecumenical Council, Dogmatic Constitution on the Catholic Faith Dei Filius, IV: DS 3017; St. Augustine, Contra Academicos, III, 20, 43). The Church’s mission, in fact, involves her in humanity’s struggle to arrive at truth. In articulating revealed truth she serves all members of society by purifying reason, ensuring that it remains open to the consideration of ultimate truths. Drawing upon divine wisdom, she sheds light on the foundation of human morality and ethics, and reminds all groups in society that it is not praxis that creates truth but truth that should serve as the basis of praxis. Far from undermining the tolerance of legitimate diversity, such a contribution illuminates the very truth which makes consensus attainable, and helps to keep public debate rational, honest, and accountable. Similarly the Church never tires of upholding the essential moral categories of right and wrong, without which hope could only wither, giving way to cold pragmatic calculations of utility which render the person little more than a pawn on some ideological chess-board.
With regard to the educational forum, the diakonia of truth takes on a heightened significance in societies where secularist ideology drives a wedge between truth and faith. This division has led to a tendency to equate truth with knowledge and to adopt a positivistic mentality which, in rejecting metaphysics, denies the foundations of faith and rejects the need for a moral vision. Truth means more than knowledge: knowing the truth leads us to discover the good. Truth speaks to the individual in his or her entirety, inviting us to respond with our whole being. This optimistic vision is found in our Christian faith because such faith has been granted the vision of the Logos, God’s creative Reason, which in the Incarnation, is revealed as Goodness itself. Far from being just a communication of factual data—“informative”—the loving truth of the Gospel is creative and life-changing—“performative” (cf. Spe Salvi, 2). With confidence, Christian educators can liberate the young from the limits of positivism and awaken receptivity to the truth, to God and his goodness. In this way you will also help to form their conscience which, enriched by faith, opens a sure path to inner peace and to respect for others.
It comes as no surprise, then, that not just our own ecclesial communities but society in general has high expectations of Catholic educators. This places upon you a responsibility and offers an opportunity. More and more people—parents in particular—recognize the need for excellence in the human formation of their children. As Mater et Magistra, the Church shares their concern. When nothing beyond the individual is recognized as definitive, the ultimate criterion of judgment becomes the self and the satisfaction of the individual’s immediate wishes. The objectivity and perspective, which can only come through a recognition of the essential transcendent dimension of the human person, can be lost. Within such a relativistic horizon the goals of education are inevitably curtailed. Slowly, a lowering of standards occurs. We observe today a timidity in the face of the category of the good and an aimless pursuit of novelty parading as the realization of freedom. We witness an assumption that every experience is of equal worth and a reluctance to admit imperfection and mistakes. And particularly disturbing, is the reduction of the precious and delicate area of education in sexuality to management of “risk,” bereft of any reference to the beauty of conjugal love.
How might Christian educators respond? These harmful developments point to the particular urgency of what we might call “intellectual charity.” This aspect of charity calls the educator to recognize that the profound responsibility to lead the young to truth is nothing less than an act of love. Indeed, the dignity of education lies in fostering the true perfection and happiness of those to be educated. In practice “intellectual charity” upholds the essential unity of knowledge against the fragmentation which ensues when reason is detached from the pursuit of truth. It guides the young towards the deep satisfaction of exercising freedom in relation to truth, and it strives to articulate the relationship between faith and all aspects of family and civic life. Once their passion for the fullness and unity of truth has been awakened, young people will surely relish the discovery that the question of what they can know opens up the vast adventure of what they ought to do. Here they will experience “in what” and “in whom” it is possible to hope, and be inspired to contribute to society in a way that engenders hope in others.
Dear friends, I wish to conclude by focusing our attention specifically on the paramount importance of your own professionalism and witness within our Catholic universities and schools. First, let me thank you for your dedication and generosity. I know from my own days as a professor, and I have heard from your Bishops and officials of the Congregation for Catholic Education, that the reputation of Catholic institutes of learning in this country is largely due to yourselves and your predecessors. Your selfless contributions—from outstanding research to the dedication of those working in inner-city schools—serve both your country and the Church. For this I express my profound gratitude.
In regard to faculty members at Catholic colleges and universities, I wish to reaffirm the great value of academic freedom. In virtue of this freedom you are called to search for the truth wherever careful analysis of evidence leads you. Yet it is also the case that any appeal to the principle of academic freedom in order to justify positions that contradict the faith and the teaching of the Church would obstruct or even betray the university’s identity and mission; a mission at the heart of the Church’s munus docendi and not somehow autonomous or independent of it.
Teachers and administrators, whether in universities or schools, have the duty and privilege to ensure that students receive instruction in Catholic doctrine and practice. This requires that public witness to the way of Christ, as found in the Gospel and upheld by the Church’s Magisterium, shapes all aspects of an institution’s life, both inside and outside the classroom. Divergence from this vision weakens Catholic identity and, far from advancing freedom, inevitably leads to confusion, whether moral, intellectual, or spiritual.
I wish also to express a particular word of encouragement to both lay and Religious teachers of catechesis who strive to ensure that young people become daily more appreciative of the gift of faith. Religious education is a challenging apostolate, yet there are many signs of a desire among young people to learn about the faith and practice it with vigor. If this awakening is to grow, teachers require a clear and precise understanding of the specific nature and role of Catholic education. They must also be ready to lead the commitment made by the entire school community to assist our young people, and their families, to experience the harmony between faith, life, and culture.
Here I wish to make a special appeal to Religious Brothers, Sisters, and Priests: do not abandon the school apostolate; indeed, renew your commitment to schools especially those in poorer areas. In places where there are many hollow promises which lure young people away from the path of truth and genuine freedom, the consecrated person’s witness to the evangelical counsels is an irreplaceable gift. I encourage the Religious present to bring renewed enthusiasm to the promotion of vocations. Know that your witness to the ideal of consecration and mission among the young is a source of great inspiration in faith for them and their families.
To all of you I say: bear witness to hope. Nourish your witness with prayer. Account for the hope that characterizes your lives (cf. 1 Pet 3:15) by living the truth which you propose to your students. Help them to know and love the One you have encountered, whose truth and goodness you have experienced with joy. With Saint Augustine, let us say: “we who speak and you who listen acknowledge ourselves as fellow disciples of a single teacher” (Sermons, 23:2). With these sentiments of communion, I gladly impart to you, your colleagues and students, and to your families, my Apostolic Blessing.
Considering Catholic Honors and Platforms
/in Mission and Governance Research and Analysis, Speakers and Honors/by Patrick ReillyThere appears to be a growing consensus among American Catholics about the impropriety of Catholic honors and platforms for public opponents of Catholic teaching. Drawing from the example and statements of several American bishops and the Vatican, the following reflections are intended as an aide to bishops, Catholic institutions and other Catholic apostolates as they develop policies to uphold Catholic teaching and Catholic identity.
The unified response of 83 American bishops to the University of Notre Dame’s commencement scandal last spring was extraordinary, illuminating the growing concern about inappropriate public platforms and honors. This concern is not limited to the bishops, but also is shared by large numbers of Catholics worldwide, as evidenced by the 367,000 priests, religious and lay people who signed The Cardinal Newman Society’s petition urging Notre Dame to comply with the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) policy against honors and platforms for pro-abortion leaders. Instead the university’s leaders chose to defy the USCCB and especially their local ordinary, Bishop John D’Arcy of Fort-Wayne South Bend, who had publicly requested compliance with the USCCB policy.
The Notre Dame scandal was extraordinary because of the widespread reaction to it, but historically it was not unusual. Each year there are several controversies around the country over honors or platforms awarded by Catholic colleges and universities, parishes, charities, hospitals and other entities to those who publicly oppose the Church on key moral issues including abortion, embryonic stem cell research and the sanctity of marriage. Controversy also often surrounds guests invited to Catholic facilities whose moral judgments on issues like war, the death penalty and social justice are opposed by many bishops and other Catholics.
These controversies give rise to important questions for bishops and Catholic entities committed to preserving Catholic identity and fostering respect for Catholic teaching:
This paper explores these questions while recognizing that individual dioceses and institutions may come to different conclusions about how best to avoid scandal and preserve Catholic identity. The hope is that these reflections will encourage further discussion in the Catholic community and assist the development of formal policies that will cultivate unity and fidelity in the Church.
Who is responsible for preserving the Catholic identity of Catholic institutions and apostolates?
Following the University of Notre Dame’s 2009 commencement ceremony, some observers raised questions about the propriety of the bishops’ public response to the scandal and their reliance on the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) policy regarding honors and platforms. The board of directors of the Association of Catholic Colleges and Universities was so bold as to urge “that juridical expressions of bishops’ or universities’ responsibilities should be kept to a minimum, lest they inhibit the ‘mutual trust, close and consistent collaboration, and continuing dialogue’ to which Ex corde Ecclesiae calls Church and university authorities.”
Generally canon law describes Catholic institutions and apostolates as “associations of Christian faithful.” “Public” associations are established by the Holy See or the bishops, and “private” associations are established by private agreement among the members. Both enjoy significant “autonomy” in day-to-day affairs, consistent with their own missions and statutes in accord with Catholic identity.
Canon law also recognizes significant authority over Catholic identity that is proper to the bishops. Any association of Christian faithful must receive the consent of the “competent ecclesiastical authority” (usually the local bishop) before assuming the label “Catholic” (Canon 300). The “competent ecclesiastical authority” must approve the statutes of both public and private associations (Canons 299, 314 and 322). In addition:
All associations of the Christian faithful are subject to the vigilance of competent ecclesiastical authority, whose duty it is to take care that integrity of faith and morals is preserved in them and to watch lest abuse creep into ecclesiastical discipline…
Associations of any kind whatever are subject to the vigilance of the Holy See; diocesan associations and also other associations to the extent that they work in the diocese are subject to the vigilance of the local ordinary (Canon 305).
Canon law specifically addresses Catholic schools, assigning to the bishops authority to recognize schools as Catholic and to regulate and “be vigilant over ” Catholic religious formation and education (Canons 803 and 804).
Canon law also specifically addresses Catholic universities and other institutes of higher education. The “competent ecclesiastical authority” must approve “the title or name Catholic university,” and must be “vigilant” that “the principles of Catholic doctrine are faithfully observed” (Canons 808 and 810).
In recent decades, the Vatican and the U.S. bishops have helped further define these matters beyond the provisions of canon law. Although controversial at times, the development of “juridical” guidelines like those in Ex corde Ecclesiae, the 1990 apostolic constitution on Catholic higher education, and the U.S. bishops’ Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Health Care Services have proven helpful to clarifying the Church’s expectations for “Catholic identity.”
Ex corde Ecclesiae requires that “Catholic ideals, attitudes and principles penetrate and inform university activities in accordance with the proper nature and autonomy of these activities” (Part I, 14). “Any official action or commitment of the university is to be in accord with its Catholic identity” (Part II, Art. 2, Par. 4).
Ex corde Ecclesiae identifies four “essential characteristics” of a university’s Catholic identity (Part I, 13). These include “a Christian inspiration not only of individuals but of the university community as such” and an “institutional commitment” to serving the Church. Also essential is “fidelity to the Christian message as it comes to us through the Church.”
In addition to confirming the bishops’ canonical “right and duty to watch over the preservation and strengthening of [universities’] Catholic character,” Ex corde Ecclesiae also notes:
The responsibility for maintaining and strengthening the Catholic identity of the University rests primarily with the University itself. …The identity of a Catholic University is essentially linked to the quality of its teachers and to respect for Catholic doctrine. It is the responsibility of the competent Authority to watch over these two fundamental needs in accordance with what is indicated in Canon Law. (Part II, Art. 4, Par. 1)
Because other Catholic institutions and apostolates share several essential characteristics of a university’s Catholic identity—including “institutional autonomy,” fidelity to the Magisterium and communion with the bishops—it seems that certain principles of Ex corde Ecclesiae could also be applied broadly. For instance, it follows from the canonical recognition of institutional autonomy that the primary responsibility for preserving Catholic identity rests with any institution or apostolate itself, without neglecting the bishops’ proper authority to remain vigilant over Catholic identity (especially when an institution or apostolate fails in its own responsibilities). Also, the constitution’s emphasis on “institutional commitment” to Catholic identity seems an important insight for any Catholic institution and apostolate. The expectation that all official actions and commitments must be in accord with Catholic identity is especially pertinent to the question of Catholic honors and platforms.
With their Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Health Care Services, the U.S. bishops likewise look to healthcare institutions to preserve their own Catholic identity—but according to helpful guidance from the bishops. The directives help Catholic healthcare workers ensure that their services are “animated by the Gospel of Jesus Christ and guided by the moral tradition of the Church” (Part 1, Directive 1). Presumably the directives help Catholic healthcare officials make right decisions that prevent disputes and scandals before they occur.
Carefully crafted policies regarding Catholic honors and platforms—both diocesan policies and institutional policies—might similarly help prevent future disputes and scandals. The bishops’ essential vigilance over Catholic identity indicates the propriety of diocesan guidelines for honors and platforms, while acknowledging the responsibility of Catholic institutions and apostolates to apply the guidelines to internal operations. Furthermore, this primary responsibility of Catholic institutions and apostolates to preserve their own Catholic identity also indicates the propriety of institutional policies regarding honors and platforms, consistent with any principles identified by the Vatican, the USCCB or the local bishop.
Beyond published directives, the Church expects close cooperation between the bishops and Catholic institutions and apostolates. Ex corde Ecclesiae calls for:
…close personal and pastoral relationships… between University and Church authorities, characterized by mutual trust, close and consistent collaboration and continuing dialogue. Even when they do not enter directly into the internal governance of the University, Bishops “should be seen not as external agents but as participants in the life of the Catholic University.” (Part I, 28)
Such communion between the bishops and all Catholic institutions and apostolates suggests that the latter ought to consult with local bishops on decisions impacting their Catholic identity. This is considered in detail below, under the heading “Should bishops approve invitations for honors and platforms?”
Should diocesan policies apply only to parishes, offices and other diocesan entities under the bishop’s direct supervision, or also to independent Catholic institutions and apostolates within the diocese?
Through the centuries, the Catholic Church has insisted that Catholic dioceses, parishes and religious orders and institutes remain faithful to the Magisterium and conform to Catholic tradition and norms. It is generally understood and accepted that the “Catholic identity” of these entities—which comprise what is commonly labeled the “institutional Church”—must not be compromised, whether in fact or in appearance.
Likewise, the Church historically has demonstrated its keen interest in preserving the Catholic identity of institutions and apostolates that are legally owned and controlled by the “institutional Church.” Because these are typically under direct control by the Vatican, dioceses, parishes and religious orders and institutes, it is understood that they too must remain faithful to the Magisterium and conform to Catholic tradition and norms.
Since the Second Vatican Council, however, there has been much discussion about the Catholic identity of independent and often lay-controlled institutions and apostolates, which have multiplied in the United States. Never in the Church’s history have so many Catholic entities operated outside the legal and day-to-day control of the “institutional Church.”
Meanwhile, the increasing secularization of American culture has impacted Catholic institutions and apostolates regardless of their legal ownership and control. They embrace varying degrees of Catholic identity, fidelity to Catholic teaching and respect for the legitimate authority of the bishops and the Vatican.
With regard to the proper authority of the Vatican and the bishops over Catholic institutions and apostolates, canon law makes no distinction based on legal ownership or control. Key provisions related to Catholic identity—requiring a bishop’s consent to use the label “Catholic,” approval of an institution’s statutes and vigilance over Catholic identity and doctrine—apply to all Catholic institutions.
This broad application of Catholic identity was challenged in the 1980s by some American experts, who doubted whether canon law governs American Catholic colleges and universities that are legally independent of the Church. The matter was resolved with Ex corde Ecclesiae, which defines Catholic identity for any Catholic college or university, regardless of legal control. The constitution acknowledges the various ways Catholic institutions can be established and organized, but applies to all Catholic institutions of higher education (with the exception of Vatican-recognized “ecclesiastical faculties,” which are regulated by Sapientia Christiana).
The U.S. bishops’ Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Health Care Services reiterate the point that Catholic institutions are not defined by the form of legal control. The directives apply to all Catholic healthcare services, even while noting the increasing involvement of Catholic lay people and “new forms of sponsorship and governance of institutional Catholic health care” (Introduction).
These juridical precedents offer valuable guidance when deciding whether diocesan policies should apply only to entities under the bishop’s direct supervision or also inde- pendent Catholic institutions and apostolates within the diocese:
Although many diocesan policies regarding honors and platforms are focused primarily on diocesan schools and offices, some are stated more broadly. Bishop Donald Trautman’s policies in the Diocese of Erie are binding on “Catholic institutions and those representing them.” The policy in the Diocese of Scranton refers to “church-related properties” and cites the 2004 policy of the USCCB governing “the Catholic community and Catholic institutions.”
Should policies consider honors only, or both honors and platforms?
Both Catholic honors and platforms—particularly when honorees, speakers or event sponsors are publicly opposed to Catholic teaching—have often been a source of controversy in the United States. Despite the wide variety of bishops’ responses to such situations (summarized in the appendix), they reveal a common concern that honors and platforms are often inconsistent with Catholic identity and may even be scandalous.
The USCCB addressed this question in 2004:
The Catholic community and Catholic institutions should not honor those who act in defiance of our fundamental moral principles. They should not be given awards, honors or platforms which would suggest support for their actions. (USCCB, Catholics in Political Life, June 2004)
Of the 83 bishops who publicly criticized Notre Dame in May, most objected particularly to a Catholic institution awarding a pro-abortion leader an honorary degree. Several suggested that a speaking platform allowing for dialogue with President Barrack Obama on abortion and other issues would be acceptable in a university setting.
A commencement address, however, is both an honor and a speaking platform—one that allows no exchange of ideas and is not typically academic by nature. Public officials, celebrities and others covet opportunities to deliver commencement addresses. The choice of commencement speaker is typically based on the individual’s accomplishments and respectability, not any particular academic expertise.
Bishop Robert McManus of the Diocese of Worcester, former chairman of the USCCB Education Committee, said last year regarding commencement speakers and honorary degree recipients at Catholic colleges and universities:
I call it truth in advertising. Why would you honor a person, whether Catholic or non-Catholic, that has publicly contradicted the positions of the Church? (The Boston Globe, 5/12/08)
According to the Diocese of Harrisburg’s policy for Catholic schools and religious education programs:
If a person’s previous or current personal conduct, voting record or public expression of opinion is contrary to the teachings of the Church, that person should receive no award, honor or endorsement of any kind, nor should that person be given a platform by the Church to speak.
Honors may also include awards, special recognition at public events or in publications, honorary titles, selection for official positions within an institution or apostolate, and other actions which imply reward or special respect for an individual beyond the charity expected of Catholics toward all people. A platform may also be an honor—such as a commencement address, a “distinguished lecture” with special prominence, or a monologue as “master of ceremonies” for a fundraiser or other event. Generally an honor is earned, and it either bestows some level of public recognition or is awarded because an individual is already publicly recognizable.
Bishop James Moynihan, who was Bishop of Syracuse until last April, did not allow individuals who dissent from Catholic teaching on abortion to “be appointed special ministers of the Eucharist, serve as lectors in the Church, nor be otherwise honored by the Church” (The Post-Standard, 5/30/04).
Bishop James McHugh of the Diocese of Camden did not permit pro-abortion political candidates “to give celebrated lectures, receive honors or chair a committee” (The Washington Times, 8/6/98). The executive director of the New Jersey Catholic Conference has said that all New Jersey dioceses ban public leaders in conflict with Catholic teaching from serving in honorary roles such as ushering (The Record, 4/20/04).
To the extent that a policy on Catholic honors defines the term “honors,” the more helpful it may be to prevent problems in the future. Trying to address every nuance, however, does not seem necessary. The term “honors” alone may be sufficient and allows some discretion by decision makers, provided Catholic identity and the proper authority of the local bishop are fully respected.
What about platforms that do not constitute honors? These will typically be speaking platforms with the primary purpose of education—lectures on topics on which the speaker claims some expertise—or advocacy. Other types of platforms, especially when sponsored by outside groups or institutions, include meetings, conferences, rallies and similar events. Here there are two primary concerns:
Some have argued that a Catholic audience can benefit from exposure to contrary views, even dissent from Catholic teaching, especially in an academic setting. There is, however, a distinction between carefully considering opposing arguments by reading and guided discussion, as opposed to inviting a speaker or an outside group or institution to persuasively advocate against Catholic teaching. A personal, rhetorical treatment of a serious moral issue by a passionate advocate of known falsehood has significant potential for confusing an audience and distracting them verbally and visually from the truth.
Regarding political candidates and public officials whose voting record or conduct is a concern, the Diocese of Erie policy states:
Nor is such a person to be given a platform of any kind at a Catholic event or in a Catholic institution, lest such a platform be used even indirectly to advocate for public policies or values which are contrary to the Gospel.
When platforms are permitted in special cases to individuals and groups that are expected to oppose Catholic teaching during their presentations, certain conditions might be required to help minimize the potential for scandal:
– public acknowledgment of dissent by the speaker or event sponsor, and a clear statement of the hosting Catholic entity’s support for Catholic teaching;
– sufficient maturity and moral formation of the audience, so that it is prepared to dissect the dissenting argument and identify falsehood;
– a clear presentation of Catholic teaching to all participants by another qualified speaker; and
– opportunity for dialogue with the audience.
Even under these conditions, the potential for scandal is significant. There is also the danger that a Catholic entity will appear to be unfaithful to Catholic teaching because it knowingly hosts or sponsors a platform for the purpose of advocating dissenting views. It therefore seems appropriate to discourage or forbid Catholic entities from providing platforms on topics about which the presenters publicly dissent from Catholic teaching.
Here the potential for scandal is much less, although there is always the danger that a speaker or event sponsor will take the opportunity to challenge Catholic teaching before a Catholic audience, regardless of the assigned topic. Instead the concern centers on Catholic identity and the danger of public perception that a Catholic entity is not serious about Catholic teaching—or worse, in fact agrees with the invitee’s opposition to Catholic teaching.
Here it is less a matter of whether a particular speaker or outside group or institution is inappropriate before a Catholic audience, and more a question of why a Catholic entity that is committed to the truth of Catholic teaching would not strongly prefer to invite good role models who conform to Catholic teaching. It is difficult to imagine a topic for which a suitable speaker or representative, without public opposition to Catholic teaching, cannot be identified. If unique situations arise when the value of a dissenting presenter is extraordinary and the potential for scandal minimal, such invitations should be rare. When questions arise about the propriety of an invitation, it should not be a significant burden on Catholic entities to consult with local bishops.
According to the policy of the Diocese of Harrisburg:
Speakers and honorees should be drawn from among the many who will edify the listeners and provide examples of courageous and authentic Catholic witness. …Speakers and honorees are to be persons to whom parishioners of all ages and states in life can both hold in esteem and seek to emulate.
In May 1991, Archbishop Jose Gonzalez (then an auxiliary bishop in Boston) issued a public statement raising concerns about Catholic entities compromising their fidelity to Catholic teaching:
For a school to invite as a speaker a Catholic who has been publicly and consistently in favor of abortion is to run the risk of seeming to endorse the view that the teaching of the Church on abortion is not binding.
The Diocese of Erie policy asks Catholic entities to exercise due caution:
Before inviting experts to address specific issues, Catholic institutions should have some reasonable assurance that the presence of these experts will not cause scandal. … if individuals are publicly known to oppose Catholic moral or social teaching, it is reasonable to presume that inviting them is likely to produce scandal and should be avoided.
The Archdiocese of New York has requested that archdiocesan offices and parishes not “invite individuals to speak at… events whose public opposition is contrary to and in opposition to the clear, unambiguous teaching of the Church” (The New York Times, 9/7/86). Likewise policies in several other dioceses—including the dioceses of Harrisburg, LaCrosse, Pittsburgh, Rockford and Syracuse—are particularly concerned with regulating speakers at Catholic functions or facilities.
The Knights of Columbus prohibits speakers as well as a a variety of honors, according to a 2009 resolution:
… we reaffirm our long-standing policy of not inviting to any Knights of Columbus event, persons, especially public officials or candidates for public office, who do not support the protection of unborn children against abortion or who advocate the legalization of assisted suicide, euthanasia or other violations of the right to life, and of not allowing such persons to rent or otherwise use facilities over which we have control, and of not be- stowing on them honors or privileges of our Order of any kind, inviting them to serve as honorary chairpersons of events, celebrations or committees, speak at Knights of Columbus events, or hold any office in the Knights of Columbus.
Should policies focus only on honors and platforms for individuals?
Most existing diocesan and institutional policies regarding Catholic honors and plat- forms are concerned only with invitations to individuals. But Catholic entities will occasionally seek to honor groups, organizations and institutions that are in conflict with Catholic teaching. They may also host platforms for political campaigns and other groups, such as rallies, meetings, conferences, lectures, etc.
Since the concerns about honoring or hosting platforms for outside entities are no different than concerns about individual speakers and honorees, it seems reasonable to state policies in such a way that they apply to both individuals and groups or institutions. The reflections in this paper consider both without distinction.
The Diocese of Erie policy forbids Catholic entities from hosting or renting out facilities to political groups for “partisan gatherings or activities.” The Dioceses of Pittsburgh and Scranton have similar policies on the use of parish and diocesan facilities.
In October 2007, the College of the Holy Cross rented meeting space to the Massachusetts Alliance on Teen Pregnancy for a conference that included representatives of Planned Parenthood and NARAL. Bishop Robert McManus of the Diocese of Worcester issued a public statement opposing the event:
As bishop of Worcester, it is my pastoral and canonical responsibility to determine what institutions can properly call themselves Catholic. This is a duty that I do not take lightly, since to be a Catholic institution means that such an institution conducts its mission and ministry in accord with Catholic Church teaching, especially in cases of faith and morals.
He said that Holy Cross should recognize that any association with Planned Parent- hood and NARAL “can create the situation of offering scandal understood in its proper theological sense” (Telegram & Gazette, 10/11/07). Afterward a diocesan spokesman said the college’s refusal to cancel the event would be taken into account when evaluating its Catholic identity (Telegram & Gazette, 10/25/07).
Should policies focus only on political candidates and public officials?
Trying to remain a principled voice above the fray of partisan politics, the U.S. bishops have long avoided support of a particular candidate or political party:
As bishops, we do not endorse or oppose candidates. Rather, we seek to form the consciences of our people so that they can examine the positions of candidates and make choices based on Catholic moral and social teaching. (USCCB, Catholics in Political Life, June 2004)
The bishops also have generally forbidden the use of Catholic facilities, resources, honors and platforms for political purposes:
The Church is involved in the political process but is not partisan. The Church cannot champion any candidate or party. Our cause is the defense of human life and dignity and the protection of the weak and vulnerable.
…The Church is engaged in the political process but should not be used. We welcome dialogue with political leaders and candidates; we seek to engage and persuade public officials. Events and “photo-ops” cannot substitute for serious dialogue. (USCCB, Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship: A Call to Political Responsibility from the Catholic Bishops of the United States, November 2007)
The Vatican has raised similar concerns about Catholic institutions that compromise their Catholic identity by appearing to support political opponents of Catholic teaching:
In recent years, there have been cases within some organizations founded on Catholic principles, in which support has been given to political forces or movements with positions contrary to the moral and social teaching of the Church on fundamental ethical questions. Such activities, in contradiction to basic principles of Christian conscience, are not compatible with membership in organizations or associations which define themselves as Catholic. Similarly, some Catholic periodicals in certain countries have expressed perspectives on political choices that have been ambiguous or incorrect, by misinterpreting the idea of the political autonomy enjoyed by Catholics and by not taking into consideration the principles mentioned above. (Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Doctrinal Note on Some Questions Regarding the Participation of Catholics in Political Life, November 2002)
While refraining from partisanship, the U.S. bishops have embraced a particular duty to challenge politicians and other public leaders who oppose Catholic teaching:
…As bishops, we have the responsibility to call Americans to conversion, including political leaders, and especially those publicly identified as Catholic. As the Holy Father reminds us in The Splendor of the Truth (Veritatis Splendor): “…[It] is part of our pastoral ministry to see to it that [the Church’s] moral teaching is faithfully handed down, and to have recourse to appropriate measures to ensure that the faithful are guarded from every doctrine and theory contrary to it” (116). As chief teachers in the Church, we must therefore explain, persuade, correct and admonish those in leadership positions who contradict the Gospel of life through their actions and policies. (USCCB, Living the Gospel of Life: A Challenge to American Catholics, November 1998)
Clearly the Church has particular concern about public officials—in part because of the great influence that they have over government and society, but also because it is public officials who most often take public positions on key moral issues like abortion, euthanasia, the death penalty, embryonic stem cell research, war, poverty and other issues of great concern to Catholics. This concern extends to Catholic honors and platforms.
The Diocese of Erie, as part of its policy which also addresses honors and platforms more broadly, states:
Catholic institutions and those representing them, when acting in an official capacity, may not participate in partisan events of any type. It is not permissible, for example, to rent out a Catholic facility for a dinner for a political party or for a candidate for office.
…Catholic institutions and those representing them, when acting in an official capacity, are never permitted to endorse or even to appear to endorse any partisan activities or persons. Catholic institutions and those representing them are not to… provide a forum for any candidate for office.
According to the policy of the Diocese of Pittsburgh:
A public official or figure may be invited to speak at a parish facility or diocesan forum as an expert or consultant on a particular issue in the interest of the common good, but not for political purposes.
If a person’s conduct, voting record, or public comments are contrary to the teachings of the Church, he or she should not be given any Church award or honor.
Policies such as these that address political activity offer valuable guidance to Catholic entities, especially during an election season, but it could help ensure clarity if policies also address non-political honors and platforms according to the same principles. With regard to honors and platforms, there is nothing in Catholic teaching that recommends holding politicians to higher moral standards than other public figures. In recent years, controversies over Catholic honors and platforms have involved prominent journalists, actors, singers, scientists, educators and others.
Policies addressing both political and non-political honors and platforms could prevent the impression that politicians are held to different standards from other public figures. Such broadly stated policies could also avoid accusations that invitations are withheld because of political considerations and not because of a consistent dedication to Catholic identity.
Should policies focus only on honors and platforms for Catholics?
Because the USCCB policy on honors and platforms was included in the document Catholics in Political Life, some have argued that it should apply only to Catholics who are invited for honors and platforms.
Not only does the policy’s language not support such a restriction, but dissenting Catholics and dissenting Catholic groups are not the only inappropriate honorees, speakers and event sponsors. Certain non-Catholics can equally cause scandal or otherwise compromise Catholic identity.
Although the Church has special pastoral concern for Catholics whose faith is compromised, it would be prudent to avoid policy distinctions between Catholics and non-Catholics with regard to Catholic honors and platforms. What is pertinent to honors and platforms is whether the individual or group under consideration—Catholic or non- Catholic—opposes Catholic teaching.
In statements to the media, some bishops have emphasized their heightened concern over dissenting Catholics being honored or granted platforms by Catholic entities. Nevertheless, we could find no current diocesan policies on honors and platforms that distinguish between Catholic and non-Catholic honorees, speakers or event sponsors.
Should bishops approve invitations for honors and platforms?
If the purpose for establishing policies on honors and platforms is to help prevent future disputes or problems, then prescribed procedures for evaluating possible invitees can be a helpful addition, including the input or approval of the local bishop.
Recognizing that independent Catholic institutions and apostolates have the primary responsibility for preserving their Catholic identity, diocesan policies could direct Catholic entities to evaluate individuals and groups prior to issuing invitations. Internal policies of Catholic institutions might identify individuals who are responsible for approving honors and platforms in accord with Catholic identity.
The Diocese of Erie policy expects Catholic entities to conform to general principles on their own accord, but allows the bishop final oversight and discretion:
…For a just cause and in individual cases, the Bishop may dispense a Catholic institution from any of the norms listed above. In such a case, the Bishop for his part will exercise due vigilance that the values of the Gospel and the Catholic nature of the institution be protected.
The Diocese of Scranton policy prohibits Catholic honors and platforms for opponents of Catholic teaching, pointedly noting the primary responsibility of the Catholic entities that issue invitations:
The purpose of this notice is: that the Faithful might know the position of the Diocese; that all who are responsible for implementing these norms may know their obligations; and that reports of the transgression of these norms be brought to the attention of those responsible for allowing such violations.
It may, however, more fully acknowledge the local bishop’s duty of vigilance over Catholic identity and doctrine if policies also require consultation with the local bishop on honors and platforms—especially when Catholic identity and the potential for scandal must be weighed against other concerns and interests. In any case the bishop’s approval of honors and platforms seems appropriate for parishes, diocesan offices and other entities under his direct supervision.
Following this year ’s invitation by the University of Notre Dame to President Barack Obama to be honored as commencement speaker and honorary degree recipient, Bishop John D’Arcy of Fort Wayne-South Bend expressed concern in a public statement that he was not consulted about the invitation or the application of the USCCB’s 2004 policy on honors and platforms:
The failure to consult the local bishop who, whatever his unworthiness, is the teacher and lawgiver in the diocese, is a serious mistake. Proper consultation could have prevented an action, which has caused such painful division between Notre Dame and many bishops — and a large number of the faithful.
The USCCB has requested such consultation in its Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Health Care Services:
Decisions that may lead to serious consequences for the identity or reputation of Catholic health care services, or entail the high risk of scandal, should be made in consultation with the diocesan bishop or his health care liaison. (Part 6, Directive 67)
The Diocese of Harrisburg’s policy for diocesan events requires office directors and parish pastors to make decisions on speakers according to stated principles, but invites them to consult with diocesan officials: the Vicar General/Moderator of the Curia for parishes and diocesan offices, the Secretary of Education for Catholic schools and parish programs of religious education, and the Secretary for Catholic Life and Evangelization for college and university campus ministers.
The Diocese of LaCrosse policy insists upon consultation with the bishop:
Speakers who are being considered to give a presentation on faith and morals on Church property must be approved by the Diocesan Bishop before an invitation is extended.
Catholic parishes and schools cannot promote or sponsor a speaker unless he or she is approved (even if the presentation is not being given on Church property).
Likewise in the Diocese of Rockford; its policy states:
The use of the form titled “Request for Authorization for Out-of-Diocese Speakers” is meant to be a help to our parishes and agencies as they strive to provide for the education and enrichment needs of parishioners, staff and others. The Chancery does have access to information about individuals and groups that may not be readily available to a parish or agency and can assist in certifying that a person or group is reputable and will not be problematic for a pastor or agency head due to what is said or done by a speaker.
Bishops who require diocesan approval tell us that the procedures are not burdensome, in part because there is rarely a need to refuse approval of an honor or platform. The very fact of requiring approval tends to discourage Catholic entities from inviting individuals or groups that may be rejected for public opposition to Catholic teaching.
By what criteria should Catholics evaluate invitations for honors and platforms?
The primary purposes for a policy on honors and platforms are, presumably, to preserve Catholic identity and to avoid confusion about the truth and seriousness of Catholic teaching. The policy is not, therefore, intended to publicly challenge or embarrass opponents of Catholic teaching—even though the Church may have cause to do so by other means.
Bishop John D’Arcy of the Diocese of Fort Wayne-South Bend made this point in Amer– ica magazine, responding to the Jesuit editors’ complaints that the opposition to Notre Dame’s honors to President Barrack Obama were politically motivated or otherwise insensitive to the President. Instead, argued Bishop D’Arcy, the honors to President Obama were opposed on the basis of Notre Dame’s obligations as a Catholic university:
Rather, the response of the faithful derives directly from the Gospel. In Matthew’s words, “Your light must shine before others, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Heavenly Father ” (5:13). (America, 8/31/09)
Pastoral outreach to individuals requires insight into their personal views, beliefs and behaviors; by contrast, it is only their public statements and actions that may cause scandal or compromise the Catholic identity of an entity that bestows an honor or platform. Policies regarding Catholic honors and platforms, therefore, need focus only on public statements and actions.
Because the Church identifies certain actions as gravely sinful and intrinsically evil, it seems appropriate that emphasis be given to scrutinizing individuals’ and groups’ support for such activity—including legal protections and public funding for such activity, as prohibited by Catholic teaching—when evaluating possible honors and platforms. It is helpful for policies to explicitly forbid honors for those who oppose Catholic teaching on such serious moral concerns. It may also be appropriate to refuse platforms for these individuals and groups, given the serious consequences of scandal or sowing confusion about moral behavior.
Here there must be a clear understanding of the differences between serious moral concerns and what constitutes dissent from Catholic teaching. For instance, abortion is intrinsically evil in every circumstance. With regard to the death penalty, war and social justice, it does not diminish the Church’s serious concern about these issues to acknowledge legitimate disagreement about the application of Catholic moral principles; such disagreement may not indicate dissent from Catholic teaching.
It would be unjust to assume that an individual dissents on war, for instance, without pointed opposition to Catholic just war principles. A Catholic entity might respect its Catholic identity by choosing not to invite an individual whose moral judgments are troubling, if not clearly opposed to Catholic teaching. It is doubtful, however, that a choice to invite such an individual to speak or receive an honor is a clear violation of Catholic identity.
When asked about his policy against speaking platforms for Pennsylvania’s pro-abortion governor, Bishop Trautman of the Diocese of Erie told reporters:
Life is basic, the fundamental teaching, the truth, the keyhole through which we look to see all other values. Yes, we can be pleased with those who agree with us on social justice issues. But on life there can be no compromise. That’s the point. (Buffalo News, 7/23/00)
Also responding to concerns that the policies of the Archdiocese of New Orleans are, in effect, more stringent on dissent about abortion and “life issues” than about other Catholic teachings, Archbishop Alfred Hughes issued a statement in April 2009:
It is important to distinguish an absolute moral principle from one that is subject to different applications according to varying conditions or circumstances. …Hence the Church teaches that direct abortion is always wrong. The Church recommends that we move away from capital punishment, which is not in itself wrong, as we develop ways of handling punishment with an effective and acceptable alternative.
And again, according to the USCCB:
…[I]t is essential for Catholics to be guided by a well-formed conscience that recognizes that all issues do not carry the same moral weight and that the moral obligation to oppose intrinsically evil acts has a special claim on our consciences and our actions. (USCCB, Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship: A Call to Political Responsibility from the Catholic Bishops of the United States, November 2007)
In addition to placing emphasis on individuals’ support for gravely sinful and intrinsically evil acts, policies might also encourage a presumption against honoring or offering platforms to individuals and groups that publicly oppose other Catholic teaching, especially Catholic dogma. Here there might be allowed some discretion, whether exercised by Catholic entities or by the local bishop, if the potential for scandal seems minimal.
For instance, it may be reasonable to invite non-Catholic religious leaders to speak at Catholic facilities for the purpose of interreligious dialogue. Still one could expect some regulation of the frequency of non-Catholic speakers, and efforts to prevent proselytizing and advocacy of views that are in opposition to Catholic teaching.
Rather than attempt to address each of these nuances in a written policy on honors and platforms, the policy might focus on expected outcomes rather than the nature of the individual’s dissent—e.g., the Diocese of Erie’s request for “reasonable assurance that the presence of these experts will not cause scandal,” or the Diocese of Harrisburg’s mandatory background review to ensure that the guest’s “public life displays gospel values in harmony with the moral and social teaching of the Catholic Church.”
A procedure requiring officials’ prior approval for honors and platforms can allow the officials appropriate discretion, with final authority resting with the local bishop.
A prayer for unity
Despite growing consensus in the Church about the need to preserve and strengthen Catholic identity and uphold Catholic teachings when providing Catholic honors or plat- forms, the above considerations allow for an expected disparity among diocesan and institutional policies. No doubt there are valuable insights not considered here.
Together we may pray, however, that the conversation about honors and platforms continues in the direction of a more unified and consistent response, reflecting the unity of the Church. Pressure from certain institutions to refrain from implementing formal policies is not helpful and only allows the problem to continue without clear guidance. The danger of scandal is too real, and the decline of Catholic identity in America too ap- parent, to fail to respond.
In his 2008 address to American Catholic educators, Pope Benedict XVI said that Catho- lic identity requires:
…public witness to the way of Christ, as found in the Gospel and upheld by the Church’s Magisterium, shapes all aspects of an institution’s life, both inside and outside the classroom. Divergence from this vision weakens Catholic identity and, far from advancing freedom, inevitably leads to confusion, whether moral, intellectual or spiritual. (Address to Catholic Educators, The Catholic University of America, 4/17/08)
Ensuring that all Catholic entities—whether schools or other apostolates, parishes or in- dependent institutions—share a common dedication to leading people to Jesus Christ is a project of special importance today. That project’s success will require the resolution of controversies like the commencement scandal at Notre Dame this year, by clarifying expectations and encouraging Catholic entities to renew their commitment to fidelity and Catholic identity.
Appendix
Responses by U.S. Catholic Bishops to Honors & Platforms for Opponents of Catholic Moral Teaching
Diocese of Austin, TX
October 2007
Bishop Gregory Aymond publicly criticized the selection of Rev. Charles Curran by St. Edward’s University for the Most Reverend Bishop John McCarthy Lecture Series on the Catholic Church in the 21st Century. Curran was removed from the theology department of The Catholic University of America for his dissent on Humanae Vitae and other Catholic teachings. Bishop Aymond said, “I believe that it does not foster the Catholic identity of a university to present him as a guest lecturer.” The bishop also indicated that he would like to collaborate with St. Edward’s officials on the selection of future speakers.
SOURCE: Austin American-Statesman, 10/15/07
Archdiocese of Baltimore, MD
May 2005
Cardinal William Keeler refused to attend Loyola College of Maryland’s commencement ceremony because the speaker and honoree was pro-abortion politician Rudolph Giuliani. Cardinal Keeler said:
There will be not representative of the Archdiocese participating in any event honoring former Mayor Guiliani. I am confident that, by now, you understand many of the consequences that spring from an invitation having been extended to former Mayor Guiliani to receive an honorary degree at Loyola. May the Lord make of this event a teaching moment for many.
A spokesperson for Cardinal Keeler said that his absence was meant to convey “his disappointment in the decision to honor Mr. Giuliani.”
SOURCES: The Baltimore Sun, 5/20/05; The Washington Post, 5/20/05
Archdiocese of Boston, MA
May 1991
Auxiliary Bishop Roberto Gonzalez Nieves, O.F.M., (now Archbishop of San Juan) with approval from Cardinal Bernard Law, intervened to withdraw an invitation to Mass. Lt. Gov. Paul Cellucci (a pro-abortion Catholic) to speak at the graduation of Hudson Catholic High School, which Cellucci had attended as a student. A public statement issued by Bishop Gonzalez cited an April 26, 1991, column by Cardinal Law in the archdiocesan newspaper, The Pilot:
A Catholic institution… asserts truths… about God, about the human person, and about our relationship to God, to one another, and to all of creation which we affirm as life-giving and as binding on our consciences…. At the level of teaching and at the level of student activities, a Catholic [school] should celebrate life.
Bishop Gonzalez continued in his own statement:
A Catholic school shares in the teaching mission of the Archdiocese of Boston. For a school to invite as a speaker a Catholic who has been publicly and consistently in favor of abortion is to run the risk of seeming to endorse the view that the teaching of the Church on abortion is not binding. …I believe this decision to be consistent with the policy of my brother bishops who have dealt publicly with similar difficult situations and with the reaffirmation of the Church’s teaching on abortion which was made by the recent consistory of Cardinals in Rome with the Holy Father.
SOURCE: Statement by Bishop Roberto Gonzalez, 5/2/91
Diocese of Erie, PA November 1998
Bishop Donald Trautman told Penn. Gov. Tom Ridge (a pro-abortion Catholic) that he is not welcome to speak at Catholic events, in light of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops statement “Living the Gospel of Life,” approved in November 1998. Ridge agreed to abide by Bishop Trautman’s request, acknowledging that his appearance at some Catholic functions had “caused a great deal of tension and problems.”
SOURCES: Associated Press, 11/20/98; Times-Picayune, 11/21/98
July 2000
In an interview, Bishop Donald Trautman said that pro-abortion Gov. Tom Ridge may not speak at parish events and may not speak at a Catholic institution like Gannon University. Regarding abortion vs. other issues:
Life is basic, the fundamental teaching, the truth, the keyhole through which we look to see all other values. Yes, we can be pleased with those who agree with us on social justice issues. But on life there can be no compromise. That’s the point.
SOURCE: Buffalo News, 7/23/00
April 2008
Bishop Donald Trautman rejected an invitation to attend Mercyhurst College’s commencement ceremony in protest against the college’s decision to allow an on-campus political rally for pro-abortion presidential candidate Hillary Clinton. Bishop Trautman issued a public statement:
I am disappointed in Mercyhurst College for not reflecting the pro-life stance of the Catholic Church regarding abortion. As tangible expression of my disappointment, I have notified [Mercyhurst President Tom] Gamble that I will not be present for Mercyhurst’s graduation. I am open to meeting with Dr. Gamble in the future to ascertain how the Catholic identity of Mercyhurst can be better clarified.
SOURCE: Erie Times, 4/1/08
Diocese of Fort Wayne-South Bend, IN
May 1992
Bishop John D’Arcy refused to attend the University of Notre Dame’s commencement ceremony at which pro-abortion U.S. Sen. Daniel Patrick Moynihan was presented Notre Dame’s Laetare Medal. Cardinal John O’Connor of New York and Cardinal Bernard Law of Boston reportedly also protested the honor in letters to Notre Dame.
SOURCE: Wisconsin State Journal, 5/9/92
April 2004
St. Joseph High School withdrew its invitation to pro-abortion alumnus Gov. Joe Kernan to deliver its commencement address, at the direction of Bishop John D’Arcy and at the urging of theology teachers at the school.
SOURCE: South Bend Tribune, 5/1/04
April 2004
Bishop John D’Arcy refused to accept an honorary degree and to attend the commencement ceremony at the University of St. Francis, because the commencement speaker Dr. Nancy Snyderman was pro-abortion. The university withdrew its invitation.
SOURCE: South Bend Tribune, 5/1/04
March 2009
Bishop John D’Arcy refused to attend the commencement ceremony of the University of Notre Dame, because the speaker and honoree was pro-abortion President Barack Obama. Citing the USCCB’s 2004 policy against giving platforms or honors to “those who act in defiance of our fundamental moral principles,” Bishop D’Arcy advised that “as a Catholic university, Notre Dame must ask itself, if by this decision it has chosen prestige over truth.”
Bishop D’Arcy again issued a statement when Father John Jenkins, CSC, president of Notre Dame, suggested that the USCCB’s 2004 policy restricts only honorees who are Catholic, and that a commencement address and honorary degree did not suggest support for President Obama’s actions. Bishop D’Arcy responded, noting that Father Jenkins had not consulted him on the matter:
1. The meaning of the sentence in the USCCB document relative to Catholic institutions is clear. It places the responsibility on those institutions, and indeed, on the Catholic community itself.
…2. When there is a doubt concerning the meaning of a document of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, where does one find the authentic interpretation? A fundamental, canonical and theological principle states that it is found in the local bishop, who is the teacher and lawgiver in his diocese.
— Canon 330, 375 §§ 1 & 2; 380; 381 § 1; 391 § 1; 392, & 394 §1.
3. I informed Father Jenkins that if there was any genuine questions or doubt about the meaning of the relevant sentence in the conference’s document, any competent canonist with knowledge of the tradition and love for Christ’s church had the responsibility to inform Father Jenkins of the fundamental principle that the diocesan bishop alone bears the responsibility to provide an authoritative interpretation.
…5. Another key point. In his letter to Bishop Olmsted and in the widespread publicity, which has taken place as the points in the letter have been made public, Father Jenkins declared the invitation to President Obama does not “suggest support” for his actions, because he has expressed and continues to express disagreement with him on issues surrounding protection of life. I wrote that the outpouring of hundreds of thousands who are shocked by the invitation clearly demonstrates, that this invitation has, in fact, scandalized many Catholics and other people of goodwill. In my office alone, there have been over 3,300 messages of shock, dismay and outrage, and they are still coming in. It seems that the action in itself speaks so loudly that people have not been able to hear the words of Father Jenkins, and indeed, the action has suggested approval to many.
…6. As I have said in a recent interview and which I have said to Father Jenkins, it would be one thing to bring the president here for a discussion on healthcare or immigration, and no person of goodwill could rightly oppose this. We have here, however, the granting of an honorary degree of law to someone whose activities both as president and previously, have been altogether supportive of laws against the dignity of the human person yet to be born.
…I consider it now settled — that the USCCB document, “Catholics in Public Life,” does indeed apply in this matter. The failure to consult the local bishop who, whatever his unworthiness, is the teacher and lawgiver in the diocese, is a serious mistake. Proper consultation could have prevented an action, which has caused such painful division between Notre Dame and many bishops — and a large number of the faithful.
SOURCES: Statements of Bishop John D’Arcy, 3/29/09, 4/21/09
Archdiocese of Kansas City, Kansas
February 2004
According to the archdiocesan newspaper The Leaven, Archbishop James Keleher issued an archdiocesan policy one day after pro-abortion Gov. Kathleen Sebelius spoke at the University of St. Mary in Leavenworth about education and economic development. The article stated:
Considering the importance of the legal issue of abortion in our country, which has resulted in the killing of over 40 million babies in the last 31 years since the Supreme Court decision Roe v. Wade, it is imperative that our Catholic churches, schools and institutions make every effort not only to support the pro-life movement, but especially to ensure that the public understand our unequivocal stand on this issue.
Because of this, Archbishop James P. Keleher has requested that none of our Catholic institutions invite any person in the pro-choice movement, or any politician who espouses the pro-choice movement or has a voting record endorsing pro-choice legislation, to address, give workshops, or otherwise make any presentations at these institutions. We must stand solidly behind the Gospel of Life.
SOURCES: The Leaven, 2/13/04; Kansas City Star, 2/18/04
Diocese of Madison, WI
May 1989
Bishop Cletus O’Donnell protested Edgewood College’s decision to present an honorary degree to pro-abortion activist Kathryn Clarenbach, a founder of the National Organization for Women. He told media that a Catholic college should not honor someone who supports abortion:
While colleges have every right to grant honorary degrees, Edgewood also has an obligation to the faith community that sustained it over these many years.
SOURCE: Wisconsin State Journal, 5/9/92
Archdiocese of New Orleans
May 2005
Archbishop Alfred Hughes refused to attend the commencement ceremony of Loyola University New Orleans, “lest my presence confuse the faithful and give the impression that it is appropriate to include in an honor anyone who dissents publicly from Church teaching.” Loyola University honored the Landrieu family, some of whom are “pro-choice” on abortion including Sen. Mary Landrieu.
SOURCE: Associated Press State & Local Wire, 5/05/05; Times-Picayune, 5/13/05
April 2009
Archbishop Alfred Hughes refused to attend Xavier University’s commencement ceremony because the university selected pro-abortion political adviser Donna Brazile as commencement speaker and recipient of an honorary degree. In a public statement,
Archbishop Hughes cited the USCCB policy regarding the provision of “an award, honor or platform by a Catholic institution.” He dismissed criticism that the policy is applied primarily with regard to abortion and embryonic stem cell research, but not other “life issues”:
It is important to distinguish an absolute moral principle from one that is subject to different applications according to varying conditions or circumstances.
…Hence the Church teaches that direct abortion is always wrong. The Church recommends that we move away from capital punishments, which is not in itself wrong, as we develop ways of handling punishment with an effective and acceptable alternative.
SOURCE: Statement by Archbishop Alfred Hughes, 4/23/09
Archdiocese of New York, NY
June 1986
After hosting N.Y. Assemblyman John Dearie (a Catholic who said he opposed abortions but voted to use Medicaid funding for abortions) as speaker at a communion breakfast at St. Raymond’s Catholic Church, the pastor Msgr. Henry Vier was instructed by an aide to Cardinal John O’Connor to announce that the parish would no longer allow pro-abortion public officials to speak at parish events. In 1989, Dearie changed his vote and opposed Medicaid funding of abortions.
SOURCES: The New York Times, 9/9/86; Associated Press, 12/6/89
August 1986
Vicar General and Auxiliary Bishop Joseph O’Keefe (later Bishop of Syracuse) sent a memo to pastors:
Great care and prudence must be exercised in extending invitations to individuals to speak at parish-sponsored events, e.g. Communion breakfasts, graduations, meetings of parish societies, etc. It is not only inappropriate, it is unacceptable and inconsistent with diocesan policy to invite individuals to speak at such events whose public opposition is contrary to and in opposition to the clear, unambiguous teaching of the Church. This policy applies as well, to all Archdiocesan owned or sponsored institutions and organizations.
Archdiocesan spokesman Joseph Zwilling told the media, “The Church should not provide a forum to those who would attack the Church.”
In a subsequent exchange with N.Y. Gov. Mario Cuomo (a pro-abortion Catholic), Bishop O’Keefe banned Cuomo from speaking to students at St. John the Evangelist School in Manhattan, where Bishop O’Keefe served as pastor.
SOURCES: The New York Times, 9/5/86, 9/6/86, 9/7/86, 12/6/86; Associated Press, 9/5/86, 9/9/86; The Post-Standard, 6/21/88
Diocese of Omaha, NE
May 2007
The College of St. Mary rescinded its commencement speaker invitation to Roberta Wilhelm, executive director of the pro-abortion organization Girls Inc., following public opposition from Fr. Damien Cook, director of the Bishops’ Plan for Pro-Life Activities for the Archdiocese of Omaha.
August 2007
Creighton University rescinded a speaking invitation to author Anne Lamott, an advocate of assisted suicide and abortion rights who publicly declared that she actually helped a person commit suicide, following concerns expressed by archdiocesan officials. Archbishop Elden Curtiss praised Creighton’s decision as “keeping with the mission of the university and supportive of the teaching mission of the Church.” Creighton later announced that it would consider changes to its campus speaker policy.
SOURCES: Orange County Register, 7/9/98; The Washington Times, 8/6/98
Diocese of Orange, CA
March 1998
Bishop Norman McFarland sent a letter to pro-abortion U.S. Rep. Loretta Sanchez chastising her for visits to Catholic churches, often receiving special recognition, which “appear to be motivated by partisan and personal ambitions.” The letter was printed in the Diocese of Orange newspaper, stating in part:
While recognizing some of your earnest and worthwhile efforts to improve the quality of life in the 46th District, I am disheartened that you would deliberately choose to leave the unborn on the margins of society.
SOURCES: Orange County Register, 7/9/98; The Washington Times, 8/6/98
Archdiocese of Philadelphia, PA
April 1998
According to a 1998 column by Bishop Joseph Adamec of the Diocese of Altoona-Johnstown in his diocesan newspaper The Catholic Register:
The Archdiocese of Philadelphia recently responded to criticism of Cardinal [Anthony] Bevilacqua for allowing the Governor [Tom Ridge, a pro-abortion Catholic,] to speak on Archdiocesan property. A written policy of the Archdiocese states that if the “voting record or public expression is contrary to the teachings of the Church, he or she should receive no award, honor, or endorsement of any kind.” But, the person may be invited to speak.
SOURCE: The Catholic Register, 4/13/98
November 1998
Cardinal Anthony Bevilacqua reiterated the Archdiocese’s written policy excluding those whose views differ with Church teachings from receiving awards, honors or endorsements from the Church.
Penn. State Sen. Vincent Fumo said the policy had caused the cancellation of a fundraiser for St. John Neumann High School, which Fumo helped promote. A spokesman for the Archdiocese said the cancellation resulted because of scheduling conflicts, but Fumo said he was told that his pro-abortion views were the reason.
SOURCE: Associated Press, 11/21/98
Diocese of Portland, ME
October 2004
The Diocese of Portland blocked pro-abortion State Rep. Arthur Leman from speaking about prescription drug programs at St. Mary of the Assumption Church. A diocesan spokeswoman explained that the diocese has had a policy for more than 20 years against all political candidates speaking at Catholic parishes while campaigning for office. She said Bishop Richard Malone supports the USCCB’s 2004 policy on honors and platforms, but the policy was not applied because of the diocesan policy already in force.
SOURCE: Portland Press Herald, 10/8/04
Archdiocese of St. Louis, MO
April 1999
At the request of Auxiliary Bishop Joseph Naumann (now Archbishop of Kansas City, Kansas), the St. Louis Catholic Youth Council cancelled plans to honor pro-abortion Mayor Vincent Schoemehl at a fundraiser with its Community Achievement Award “for many programs he pushed for the youth as mayor.”
Prior to that, Chaminade College Preparatory School withdrew its invitation to pro-abortion Claire McCaskill (then state auditor of Missouri, later U.S. Senator) to speak at commencement.
Accused by the St. Louis Post-Dispatch editors of bias against Democrats, Naumann wrote in a May 15, 1999, letter to the newspaper that the Church’s position is “principled and not political,” and Catholic institutions inviting pro-abortion speakers or honorees “would undermine the Church’s teaching on the dignity of the human person.”
SOURCES: St. Louis Post-Dispatch, 4/30/99, 5/15/99; Topeka Capital-Journal, 5/25/08
April 2007
The SSM Cardinal Glennon Children’s Foundation held a benefit concert featuring singer Cheryl Crow, despite her abortion and stem cell advocacy. Archbishop Raymond Burke (now Prefect of the Apostolic Signatura) issued a statement including:
Her appearance at a fundraising event for Cardinal Glennon Children’s Medical Center is an affront to the identity and mission of the medical center, dedicated as it is to the service of life and Christ’s healing mission. …When, for economic gain, a Catholic institution associates itself with such a high profile proponent of the destruction of innocent lives, members of the Church and other people of good will have the right to be confirmed in their commitment to the Gospel of Life.
Archbishop Burke said he tried to settle the matter quietly with the foundation’s board, but they refused. He resigned as Chairman of the foundation’s board and asked that his name be removed from promotional materials. Archbishop Burke released a Q&A and video to explain his position.
SOURCE: Catholic News Agency, 4/26/07
May 2007
St. Joseph’s Academy (high school) withdrew an invitation to U.S. Sen. Claire McCaskill to deliver the school’s commencement address because of McCaskill’s positions on abortion and embryonic stem cell research. McCaskill’s daughter was one of the graduates.
McCaskill said the decision was made by Archbishop Raymond Burke; the archdiocesan spokeswoman denied that Archbishop Burke was involved. The school’s president said that she received a call from the archdiocese education office reminding her of archdiocesan policy that forbids providing a public forum for speakers who oppose Catholic teachings.
SOURCE: Associated Press, 5/2/07
January 2008
The Aquinas Institute of Theology canceled its annual Aquinas Lecture for 2008 after a meeting with Archbishop Raymond Burke, who opposed the choice of speaker, Rev. Peter Phan. One of the Georgetown University professor ’s books on interreligious dialogue had been publicly questioned by the USCCB in December 2007 and was under investigation by the Vatican for theological errors. After Archbishop Burke’s own review of the book, he determined that “Father Phan is not a reliable teacher of the Catholic faith.”
SOURCES: St. Louis Post-Dispatch, 12/22/07, 1/10/08
Archdiocese of St. Paul-Minneapolis, MN
May 2008
The archdiocese prevented medical ethicist Steven Miles from speaking to an adult education class at St. Joan of Arc Church on the topic of torture, because of his “public advocacy of abortion, which is fundamentally contrary to the teachings of the Catholic Church.”
SOURCE: Associated Press, 5/10/08
Archdiocese of San Antonio, TX
February 2008
Archbishop Jose Gomez publicly opposed an on-campus rally at St. Mary’s University for pro-abortion Sen. Hillary Clinton’s presidential campaign, featuring an address by Clinton before several thousand supporters. In a statement supported by Auxiliary Bishop Patrick Zurek (now Bishop of Amarillo) and retired Bishop Thomas Flanagan, Archbishop Gomez referred to the USCCB’s 2004 policy in “Catholics in Political Life” as the basis of his position:
I was neither advised nor consulted by the university before the decision was made to have Senator Clinton speak at the university. Catholic institutions are obliged to teach and promote Catholic values in all instances. This is especially important when people look to our Catholic universities and colleges to provide leadership and clarity to the often complicated and conflicting political discourse.
He also said the university:
…doesn’t have to [consult with me], but it seems to me that it would be nice to do it. Because there were so many venues in the city of San Antonio that she could speak at, it was surprising to me why [it would be] a Catholic university, especially taking into consideration her record.
St. Mary’s University refused to cancel the event, claiming no political endorsement of candidates or their positions.
SOURCES: Statement by Archbishop Jose Gomez, 2/12/08; San Antonio Express-News, 2/14/08
Diocese of San Diego, CA
August 1985
Bishop Leo Maher banned Jane Via, former religious studies professor at the University of San Diego, from “any public Roman Catholic forum in San Diego” – from speaking to “any Catholic group in San Diego” – (this is varied language in media articles, not direct quotes from bishop) until she signs a statement confirming that she fully agrees with Catholic teaching on abortion. Via had signed a New York Times advertisement supporting abortion rights. Fr. John Proctor Jr., a canon lawyer for the diocese, told the media:
Because Dr. Via has taken a public stance in opposition to a substantive Church teaching, Bishop Maher has stated she may not speak at any diocesan function until she clarifies her position.
St. Therese’s Parish and the St. Thomas More Society canceled talks by Via. SOURCE: San Diego Union-Tribune, 7/27/85, 8/8/85
Diocese of Scranton, PA
March 1985
Bishop James Timlin refused to attend the commencement ceremony of the University of Scranton because the speaker and honoree was pro-abortion House of Representatives Speaker Tip O’Neill. Bishop Timlin said he “cannot even appear to be supportive of a congressman who has on occasion failed to support legislation which could have halted legal abortions.” He added: “I meet with people who are pro-abortion all the time. I just don’t want to go around giving them honorary degrees. That’s the problem.”
SOURCE: Associated Press, 3/14/85
June 2000
Mercy Hospital in Scranton canceled an address by pro-abortion Vice President Al Gore on health care after opposition by Bishop James Timlin, a board member of Catholic Health Partners which oversaw the hospital. He said to the media:
It’s our policy around here that we don’t give a platform to anyone that would allow people to think that we agree with their position. If they allowed [Gore] to come it would be contrary to what I expect from all our Catholic institutions.
…The Mercy Hospital has decided not to give Vice President Gore a platform, lest there be any misunderstanding about the hospital’s Catholic identity and its commitment to the sanctity of life.
SOURCE: Wilkes Barre Times Leader, 6/15/00
May 2003
Bishop James Timlin refused to attend the commencement ceremony of the University of Scranton because the speaker and honoree was pro-abortion talk show host Chris Matthews. Bishop Timlin said he would not attend because Matthews “espoused a viewpoint on abortion which Catholics believe to be contrary to the moral law.”
Auxiliary Bishop John Dougherty also refused to attend the commencement ceremony of College Misericordia because the speakers were journalists Steve and Cokie Roberts, whose columns had espoused a “pro-choice” viewpoint.
Bishop Timlin said:
I am certain that the University of Scranton and College Misericordia acted in good faith in this instance, and that they do not see themselves lending support to any pro-abortion or pro-choice position, however, my long-standing public position is that I will not appear when my presence could possibly be seen as supportive of pro-choice or pro-abortion views.
SOURCE: Associated Press State and Local Wire, 5/22/03
February 2009
Bishop Joseph Martino publicly criticized Misericordia University for hosting a lecture by homosexual marriage advocate Keith Boykin. The diocese issued a statement including:
Bishop Martino wants Catholics of the Diocese of Scranton to know of his absolute disapproval of Misericordia University’s hosting Mr. Boykin. By honoring this speaker through allowing his positions, so antithetical to Catholic Church teaching, to be broadcast on its campus, the University has rejected all four essential characteristics of a Catholic institution of higher learning. These are: its Christian inspiration, its obligation to reflect on knowledge in light of the Catholic faith, its fidelity to Catholic Church teaching and its commitment to serve the people of God.
The faithful of the Diocese of Scranton, the Bishop observed, should be in no doubt that Misericordia University in this instance is seriously failing in maintaining its Catholic identity.
Bishop Martino later asked Misericordia to publicly explain “its efforts to teach Catholic morality regarding sexuality and homosexuality.” He asked the university to consider closing its Diversity Institute, which hosted Boykin.
The Bishop’s rationale is that students should learn respect for all races and cultures, but that viewpoints that are in direct opposition to Catholic teaching should not be presented under the guise of “diversity.” Doing so within a formal structure sanctioned by the institution gives the impression that these viewpoints are acceptable, or that all morality is relative.
SOURCES: Diocese of Scranton statements, 2/16/09, 2/24/09, 3/18/09
May 2009
Bishop Joseph Martino criticized the choice of U.S. Sen. Bob Casey to be the commencement speaker and honoree at King’s College. Bishop Martino said the choice of Casey was “an affront to all who value the sanctity of life,” because Casey—who had claimed to be pro-life— had proven to be “a reliable vote for President Barack Obama’s aggressive pro-abortion agenda” including his vote to confirm pro-abortion politician Kathleen Sebelius as Secretary of Heath and Human Services. Bishop Martino said that Casey lacks “the moral stature” to address young graduates. “It is truly unfortunate that this Catholic institution will be seen as providing a forum for a politician who is steadily distancing himself from pro-life principles,” Bishop Martino said.
SOURCE: Associated Press State & Local Wire, 5/3/09
Diocese of Syracuse, NY
February 2007
The Syracuse Diocese cancelled a talk to alumni of Bishop Ludden Junior-Senior High School by pro-abortion Terry McAuliffe (then chairman of Sen. Hillary Clinton’s presidential campaign) about his memoir, What a Party!, because the talk violated the diocese’s 2003 policy according to a diocesan spokeswoman. Bishop James Moynihan had approved the Bishop Ludden talk on January 21, but at the time was unaware of McAuliffe’s public position on abortion. On January 29, McAuliffe declared himself “pro-choice” on a national radio show.
The diocesan spokeswoman distinguished between pro-abortion speakers and those who support the death penalty; the Church “does not exclude recourse to the death penalty”
SOURCES: The Post-Standard, 2/22/07; Syracuse New Times, 3/7/07
Diocese of Wilmington, DE
July 2004
Bishop Michael Saltarelli issued a statement including:
Our Catholic institutions will not honor Catholic politicians who take pro- abortion legislative positions or invite them to speak at our functions and schools. While they are to be treated civilly, respectfully and with gospel charity, they should never be put forward as a model of a Catholic in public life.
Following the statement, Archmere Academy (Catholic prep school in Claymont) dropped plans to name a new student center after U.S. Sen. Joe Biden—a pro-abortion Catholic, graduate of Archmere, and native to the Wilmington diocese.
SOURCES: Associated Press, 7/2/04; The Christian Century, 9/23/08
Diocese of Worcester, MA
May 1999
Bishop Daniel Reilly refused to attend the commencement ceremony of Assumption College, because pro-abortion Lt. Gov. Jane Swift was the commencement speaker and received an honorary degree. Bishop Reilly was a trustee of the college at the time.
SOURCE: Telegram & Gazette, 5/19/99
May 2003
Bishop Daniel Reilly refused to attend the commencement ceremony of the College of the Holy Cross, because pro-abortion MSNBC host Chris Matthews was the commencement speaker and received an honorary degree. In March 2004, incoming successor Bishop Robert McManus agreed with Bishop Reilly’s action, stating:
I wouldn’t go either. I’m not honoring those who flaunt the lack of protection of human life. They shouldn’t be honored by a Catholic institution.
SOURCE: Telegram & Gazette, 3/10/04
October 2007
The College of the Holy Cross rented meeting space and hosted a teen pregnancy conference including representatives of Planned Parenthood and NARAL. Bishop Robert McManus publicly opposed the event, stating:
As bishop of Worcester, it is my pastoral and canonical responsibility to determine what institutions can properly call themselves Catholic. This is a duty that I do not take lightly, since to be a Catholic institution means that such an institution conducts its mission and ministry in accord with Catholic Church teaching, especially in cases of faith and morals.
He said that Holy Cross should recognize that any association with Planned Parenthood and NARAL “can create the situation of offering scandal understood in its proper theological sense.” Holy Cross refused to cancel its contract with the Massachusetts Alliance on Teen Pregnancy. After the event, a diocesan spokesman said the college’s refusal to cancel the event would be taken into account when evaluating its Catholic identity.
SOURCE: Telegram & Gazette, 1
The Enduring Nature of the Catholic University
/in Mission and Governance Mission and Catholic Identity, Research and Analysis/by Kenneth D. Whitehead, Ph.D.Commemorating the Anniversary of Pope Benedict XVI’s Address to Catholic Educators on April 17, 2008
A collection of essays on the renewal of Catholic higher education by Most Rev. David Ricken, Msgr. Stuart Swetland, Rev. J. Augustine DiNoia, Rev. Joseph Koterski, Rev. David O’Connell, and Dr. John Hittinger with a foreword by The Hon. Kenneth Whitehead
Dedicated to His Holiness, Pope Benedict XVI with gratitude for his vision for Catholic higher education
Table of Contents
Introduction
Foreword
by The Honorable Kenneth D. Whitehead
Former U.S. Assistant Secretary of Education for Postsecondary Education
Catholic Higher Education in the United States: A Modern Retrospective
by Very Rev. David M. O’Connell, C.M.
President of The Catholic University of America, Washington, D.C.
The Restoration of a Catholic ‘Idea of a University’
by Most Rev. David L. Ricken
Bishop of the Diocese of Green Bay, Wisconsin
Vatican II, Evangelization and Catholic Higher Education
by Dr. John P. Hittinger
Professor of Philosophy at University of St. Thomas, Houston, Texas
Taking a Catholic View on Academic Freedom
by Rev. Joseph W. Koterski, S.J.
Associate Professor of Philosophy at Fordham University, New York
Communion and the Ecclesial Vocation of the Theologian in Catholic Higher Education
by Very Rev. J. Augustine DiNoia, O.P.
Undersecretary of the Vatican Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith
Catholic Campus Ministry: Christocentric Accompaniment
by Rev. Msgr. Stuart Swetland
Vice President for Catholic Identity at Mount Saint Mary’s University, Emmitsburg, Maryland
Appendix
Address to Catholic Educators at The Catholic University of America
His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI
Introduction
One year ago, Pope Benedict XVI invited the presidents of U.S. Catholic colleges and universities, as well as diocesan education leaders, to an address at The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C. This book commemorates that momentous event on April 17, 2008. Consistent with Pope Benedict’s key themes, our distinguished authors share insights and recommendations to advance the renewal of Catholic higher education in fidelity to the Holy Father’s vision.
But in considering the future of Catholic higher education, it is impossible to ignore the past. “How did we get here?” is a question essential to determining how most American Catholic colleges and universities overcome their bland conformity to secular norms for curriculum, campus life, governance, and academic freedom.
Our authors embrace the shared vision of Pope Benedict XVI and Pope John Paul II in stark contrast to the manifesto that American Catholic university leaders embraced more than forty years earlier. The 1967 Land O’Lakes Statement, “The Nature of the Contemporary University,” sought to redefine Catholic higher education while weakening its association with the Catholic Church. The Church’s response to the Land O’Lakes Statement has become increasingly clear: a Catholic university necessarily recognizes the doctrinal and pastoral authority of the bishops, it affirms faculty responsibilities as well as rights connected to academic freedom, and it concerns itself with the whole development of the student both inside and outside the classroom.
Father David O’Connell, president of The Catholic University of America, hosted Pope Benedict for his address last year. Father O’Connell himself has contributed substantially to the American understanding of authentic Catholic higher education and has presided over welcome improvements at his institution, often called “the bishops’ university.” He offers much insight as he looks back upon the modern history of Catholic academia, all with an appreciation for “how far Catholic higher education has come in this country” and confidence in the future guided by Pope Benedict’s vision.
Bishop David Ricken, on whose initiative one of the newest and most intriguing Catholic institutions—Wyoming Catholic College—was established, looks to the future. He has little regard for the recent past of Catholic higher education; the Land O’Lakes Statement, he writes, “precipitated a revolution in Catholic higher education that amounted to heresy and schism.” But he does have a clear idea of what Catholic colleges and universities should do to help develop “the whole person—mind, body, heart, and soul,” with compliments to Pope Benedict and his statements in April 2008.
John Hittinger turns the “spirit of Vatican II” mentality on its head—and does so with a thorough, literal reading of the documents of the Second Vatican Council as they apply to the nature of Catholic higher education. Fundamental to Catholic education, writes Dr. Hittinger, is evangelization. It’s a lesson that challenges the basic assumptions of many Catholic educators today and goes to the heart of secularization.
The near-limitless boundaries of “academic freedom” in American academia are sacrosanct, even among Catholic educators who should know better. Certainly aware of the transgression, Pope John Paul II responsibly defined academic freedom in Ex corde Ecclesiae, the 1990 apostolic constitution on Catholic universities, and Pope Benedict XVI pointedly explained that “any appeal to the principle of academic freedom in order to justify positions that contradict the faith and the teaching of the Church would obstruct or even betray the university’s identity and mission.” With the wisdom of an accomplished philosopher and the clarity of a teacher, Father Joseph Koterski helps us navigate the “dialectical relation between truth and freedom.”
Father Augustine DiNoia is one of America’s leading doctrinal authorities, and his discussion of the theology of “communion” in Catholic higher education is essential to moving beyond the errors of the Land O’Lakes period. Father DiNoia considers communion with relation to the essential role of the Catholic theologian at a Catholic college or university—making the point that dissent prevents the possibility of genuine theology. He also addresses the mandatum for theologians, a requirement of Canon Law that remains a point of contention in the United States.
Monsignor Stuart Swetland earned a national reputation for his outstanding work as a campus minister at large secular universities, and now he oversees the Catholic identity of Mount St. Mary’s University in Maryland. Not only does he make a convincing argument for the approach that pastoral ministers should apply to their work with contemporary students, but even Father Swetland’s writing style conveys his commitment to “accompanying” the reader or the student on their journey to the truth—nothing that can be learned in the classroom alone, but by developing a genuine love for Jesus Christ and His Church.
The key to understanding Catholic higher education, then, is found in Pope Benedict’s call to center all activities on Christ.
“A university or school’s Catholic identity is not simply a question of the number of Catholic students,” Pope Benedict said. “It is a question of conviction—do we really believe that only in the mystery of the Word made flesh does the mystery of man truly become clear? Are we ready to commit our entire self—intellect and will, mind and heart—to God?”
Like Christ’s challenge to the wealthy man to give up everything and follow Him, the Holy Father’s proposal allows for two responses from Catholic educators: turn away in despair, or claim the inheritance that God has set aside for those who lead young souls to Him. Ultimately this book gives one hope that the mistakes of the past can be washed away, and the renaissance of genuine Catholic higher education in the United States has already begun.
Foreword
The Honorable Kenneth D. Whitehead
On July 23, 1967, at a meeting in Land O’Lakes, Wisconsin, twenty-six leaders of Catholic higher education representing some ten Catholic colleges and universities in the United States of America issued what became known as the Land O’Lakes Statement. This statement, officially titled “The Nature of the Contemporary University,” declared that:
Although the few Catholic educators who signed this Land O’Lakes Statement had no mandate to speak for Catholic higher education, their Statement nevertheless turned out to be surprisingly influential, and for many years it enjoyed near “official” status as describing what many had come to think the Catholic university ought to be today. The Statement both articulated some of the reasons for and encouraged the rapid secularization that was taking place on many Catholic college and university campuses from the late 1960s on. For the next few decades, the Catholic identity of many Catholic colleges and universities was either ravaged or, in most cases, simply regarded as a very low priority.
It now appears that the long winter has given way to an emergent but reliable thaw. It began with Pope John Paul II and his 1990 apostolic constitution Ex corde Ecclesiae,2 although at the time one could hardly have expected positive results, given the immediate, out-of-hand rejection of the Vatican’s expectations by many Catholic educators. It was confirmed by Pope Benedict XVI in his address to educators at The Catholic University of America on April 17, 2009, which this book commemorates. Although the hard work of renewing authentic Catholic identity at many of America’s institutions remains undone, the Holy Father was clearly aware that the time was right to present a vision for Catholic higher education that moves far beyond the minimal expectations of Ex corde Ecclesiae. It was a clear signal of the progress that has been made in nearly twenty years—in no small part due to the example of those colleges and universities that stayed true to the Church, as well as the attention of the Vatican and the U.S. bishops to the need for education reform.
But the times were much different in 1967, and the signers of the Land O’Lakes Statement very likely believed they had established a new, permanent direction for Catholic higher education. The Statement represented a virtual declaration of independence from the Church for those institutions that came to accept it. Unfortunately, many Catholic colleges and universities did come to accept it, especially in and through the Association of Catholic Colleges and Universities (ACCU). They accepted it because it justified many of the measures they were taking to secularize their institutions by modifying or dropping many features that had formerly marked an institution as “Catholic.”
The principal idea behind the Land O’Lakes Statement lay in its assertion that the Catholic university must be a university “in the full modern sense of the word.” The leaders of what amounted to an institutional revolt by them against the Catholic Church saw themselves as adopting a modern, secular “model” of a university as the only model of what it was to be a university. If an institution was not such a modern, secularized university, then the implication was that it was not a true university at all. Being relegated to this status was not a fate most Catholic educators wanted to risk.
While the Catholic Church beginning in medieval times had encouraged the founding of the first universities and, indeed, in a true sense could be said to have actually “invented” the very idea of a university, those days were long ago and no longer counted. What those who accepted the Land O’Lakes Statement apparently wanted was full acceptance by the American secular academic establishment. They wanted to be accepted as being on a par with secular institutions, without the baggage, as they considered it, of any odd or embarrassing or moralistic “Catholic” encumbrances. Certainly it was thought that there was no way any truly “modern” university could continue to be “subservient” to an authoritarian Church, for example.
From that day to this, the administrations and faculties of most Catholic institutions, hewing to the Land O’Lakes line, have consistently played down or eschewed specific Catholic policies, practices, or commitments seen as incompatible with the modern secular institutional model. At the same time, they have continued to insist that they are still fully “Catholic.” According to them, their Catholic identity was in no way attenuated or diminished just because, for example, they dropped prayers or chapel requirements, removed crucifixes from classroom walls, abandoned the idea that a critical mass of the faculty ought to profess the Catholic faith, ceased attempting to teach academic subjects in the light of Catholic truth, and eschewed acting in loco parentis as far as their students were concerned.
What everybody had formerly understood to be Protestant “private judgment” was now suddenly taken by the Land O’Lakers to be some new kind of “Catholic” norm: they would henceforth decide, not the Church, what rightly belonged to Catholic higher education, and what could conveniently be downgraded or dropped.
They also continued to belong to the Association of Catholic Colleges and Universities as if nothing were amiss in the way of their Catholic identity. The ACCU leadership, meanwhile, over many years, itself followed and championed the Land O’Lakes line and steadily opposed all episcopal or Roman efforts to reinforce or restore policies or practices deemed essential by the Church to an authentic Catholic identity.
One of the principal reasons for the almost instant wide acceptance of the Land O’Lakes Statement within Catholic higher education was the idea that the Statement had ostensibly derived from secular American academic practice, namely, that to be a university in the true sense a school must enjoy “institutional autonomy” and “academic freedom.” However, the near absolutist way in which these two features had come to be understood by most Catholic educators made it difficult if not impossible for the Church to require any real Catholic discipline or to guarantee the integrity of her teachings as presented by theological and other faculties.
As for “institutional autonomy,” properly understood, it is an essential characteristic of any true institution of higher learning, and the Church strongly affirms it; she does not claim, and has never claimed, that universities must be directly operated or managed as a part of or within the Church’s own structure. But it is false that modern secular American universities enjoy the kind of total independence from any authority “external to the academic community itself” which the Land O’Lakes Statement implies they enjoy. American colleges and universities are subject to and regularly answer to a myriad of “authorities” external to themselves, whether federal, state, or local laws and ordinances pertaining to higher education, or the requirements of boards of trustees or regents, accrediting agencies, scholarly, scientific, professional, athletic, faculty, and alumni associations and societies, not to speak of the often stringent requirements imposed on them by legislatures, foundations, and other funding agencies. Secular modern American universities typically today even “answer to” outside “politically correct” pressure groups. So there was never anything inappropriate about independent Catholic institutions answering to Catholic authority insofar as the universities claim a Catholic identity and teach in accord with Catholic doctrine.
As for “academic freedom,” the Catholic Church affirms it when properly understood—although the Church does insist that academic freedom “must be preserved within the confines of truth and the common good” (Ex corde Ecclesiae, 12). Yet the signers of and adherents to the Land O’Lakes Statement appear to understand the term as the near absolute right claimed today by many secular academics. The description of it in the Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences is often cited as authoritative: “Academic freedom is the freedom of the teacher or research worker in higher institutions of learning to investigate and discuss the problems of his science and to express his conclusions, whether through publication or in the instruction of students, without interference from political or ecclesiastical authority” (emphasis added).
This definition makes the freedom and rights of professors or teachers almost absolute, while the corresponding freedom of churches or other sponsoring institutions to set up, operate, and control their own colleges and universities, as well as the freedom and rights of students and their parents to be assured that the education being imparted is within an announced religious or creedal framework, is simply cancelled out by the supposed academic freedom of professors to do or say what they please. Acceptance of this definition of academic freedom quite simply abolishes the right of the Church to insist that subjects be taught in a Catholic institution in accordance with the truths of the Catholic faith.
The Church was initially slow in responding to the challenge posed by the Land O’Lakes Statement. In 1972 the International Federation of Catholic Universities (IFCU) adopted a document setting forth “the essential characteristics of a Catholic university,”3 which were incorporated into the revised Code of Canon Law promulgated by Pope John Paul II in 1983.4 The canons affirm the right of the Church to sponsor universities (Canon 807); require that no university may bear the label “Catholic” without the permission of the competent ecclesiastical authority, namely, the bishop (Canon 808); insure the autonomy of the university while upholding the integrity of Catholic doctrine (Canon 809); stipulate that scholars and teachers may be removed if they fail to meet the Church’s doctrinal and moral standards (Canon 810); and require that those who teach theology in any Catholic university must have a mandate (mandatum) from ecclesiastical authority, again the local bishop (Canon 812).
The ACCU, as well as many of the heads of Catholic colleges, vehemently opposed these canons during the drafting of the new Code. A delegation of American bishops actually went to Rome to lobby against them. Following the promulgation of the Code, the Canon Law Society of America prepared a commentary suggesting that these canons were not applicable in the United States. They were not, in fact, implemented here.
The Holy See responded on August 15, 1990, with Pope John Paul II’s apostolic constitution Ex corde Ecclesiae. Besides being a beautiful description of everything that a Catholic university should be, ECE includes some twenty-five general norms which, among other things, insist that a truly Catholic university is necessarily linked to the Church and is subject to episcopal oversight, especially in the doctrinal and moral areas. Following a period of intense opposition from many American educators, the U.S. bishops, in November 1999, approved an application of ECE which came into force in June 2001. Another document implementing the theological mandatum requirement was approved by the bishops a year later.
With the enactment of these episcopal ordinances, it could finally be said that the U.S. bishops, after more than forty years, had resumed their proper proprietorship over the definition of the term “Catholic university.” It was never anything but a huge anomaly that a group of self-appointed Catholic educators meeting in Land O’Lakes, Wisconsin, should have presumed to be able to redefine this term. But for a long time, it seemed they had succeeded.
The Church has a long road to travel before Catholic higher education is fully back in the fold. The habitual opposition of scholars continues in many places and many Catholic colleges and universities are not fully in compliance with Ex corde Ecclesiae. What is clear, however, is the direction in which things are moving. The restoration of the true definition of the term “Catholic university” by Church authority marked the formal end of the Land O’Lakes era. It is the fidelity and creative leadership of a new generation of educators and leaders—including those whose valuable work is featured in this collection—that point the way forward.
Kenneth D. Whitehead, Ph.D., is a former U.S. Assistant Secretary of Postsecondary Education in the Reagan Administration. Among the more than one dozen books that he has authored or co-authored is Catholic Colleges and Federal Funding (Ignatius, 1987).
Catholic Higher Education in the United States: A Modern Retrospective
Very Rev. David M. O’Connell, C.M.
One year ago (April 17, 2008), Pope Benedict XVI arrived on the campus of The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C., to deliver a much anticipated address to Catholic college and university presidents and diocesan education administrators. As president of The Catholic University of America, I was honored to be his host that day.
Although some observers predicted a “pontifical spanking” for those gathered, the Holy Father’s speech was anything but that. In carefully planned and beautifully delivered remarks, Pope Benedict XVI both praised and encouraged Catholic educators for their great service to the Church in our country. At the same time, he presented a vision of and for Catholic education that was clear and compelling:
With respect to the meaning of Catholic identity, the pontiff observed:
He also presented an insightful and instructive understanding of academic freedom, born from his own experience as a university professor and, now, as Chief Shepherd and Teacher in the Church:
His address was well-received and deeply appreciated. As I sat there, listening to Pope Benedict, I could not help but reflect how far Catholic higher education has come in this country in the past more than half-century.
Doubting the Catholic university
In 1955, Monsignor John Tracy Ellis, professor of Church history at The Catholic University of America, wrote a scathing criticism of the quality of American Catholic intellectual life in a paper that he delivered at the annual meeting of the Catholic Commission on Intellectual and Cultural Affairs in St. Louis. In his presentation, later published in the Fordham University journal Thought, Ellis gave voice to the belief noted in a popular text of his day on American institutions that
Ellis went on to observe that:
Ellis presented these ideas over fifty years ago. If his stinging indictment were considered to be true at that time or up to that time, we should wonder why. Much of the fault, I believe, lay not so much in a fear that Catholic scholars demonstrated for Church authorities as some have argued but, rather, in a fear of the judgments of their secular academic counterparts. The lack of courage to present the teachings of the Church with conviction in their inherent truth within a broader scholarly community evidenced a not-too-subtle belief among our own Catholic scholars that religious faith and scholarly activity based upon it was an embarrassment that relegated Catholic intellectuals to a second-class status. Faith, after all, was considered in the secular arena to be the true enemy of reason in an “enlightened” intellectual world.
There was, no one can honestly doubt, an anti-Catholic prejudice at work in the United States from the time of its foundation and a genuine hostility “to all things Catholic,” as Monsignor Ellis noted.10 Even Harvard professor Arthur M. Schlesinger, Sr., once labeled “bias against your Church as the most persistent prejudice in the history of the American people.”11 For that reason, among others, much of the energy within the American Catholic community in general and the American Catholic professorate in particular during the late 19th and early 20th centuries was devoted to “apologetics” rather than pure scholarly endeavor. The audience to which they made their appeals was largely an immigrant population that did not place primary value on Catholic intellectual advancement let alone creating great Catholic institutions of higher learning. One needs look no further than the history of The Catholic University of America to verify that assertion.12
The concept of a national Catholic research university was hotly debated within the American hierarchy itself. And, yet, although visible efforts were made by many within the Catholic academy to promote Catholic higher education as their existing colleges expanded into universities, as late as 1938 the challenge was presented to the Church and Catholic scholars that “research cannot be the primary object of a Catholic graduate school because it is at war with the whole Catholic life of the mind.”13 American Catholic “universities” were popularly viewed as concerned not so much with the penetration of truth as they were with passing on a given tradition of truth, the Catholic tradition, in which little in the way of addition, alteration, or development was deemed necessary.14 It was an unfortunate perception that higher education within the American Catholic academic community was an “either/or” proposition rather than “both/and.”
When Ellis authored his now famous essay, he had no idea that a Vatican Council would soon be convened to address the situation of the Church in the modern world. The pope who would call for that council was still the cardinal archbishop of Venice. When he assumed the papacy in the fall of 1958 and a year later announced the 21st ecumenical council, Pope John XXIII would usher in a new era in the history of the Catholic Church and with it, a new urgency to reform its structures and institutions throughout the world. Catholic higher education was not spared the effects of this “aggiornamento.”
In his apostolic constitution Humanae salutis convening the Council, Pope John XXIII wrote that the Church at that moment was:
The Holy Father addressed the hierarchy gathered in Council on October 11, 1962, stating that “the greatest concern of the Ecumenical Council is this: that the sacred deposit of Christian doctrine should be guarded and taught more efficaciously.”16 Notice the phrase “guarded and taught!”
That concern, as it related to Catholic institutions of higher learning, had been voiced some thirty-one years earlier by Pope Pius XI in his apostolic constitution Deus Scientiarum Dominus where he wrote that the Church’s chief concern in all of Catholic education had always been the correct teaching of doctrine.17 Anyone well acquainted with Church teaching and its development in history could hardly argue that this process was ever or could ever be legitimately envisioned as a static enterprise.
Defining the Catholic university
The Fathers of the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965) dealt specifically with the broad topic of formal Catholic education in their 1965 declaration Gravissimum educationis. It has been said that the underlying concern of the Council was “education,” “Catholic education” in one form or another.18 The situation of Catholic universities and colleges received specific attention. The declaration stated that:
One should notice the emphasis given here to proper disciplinary methodology, due freedom of inquiry, growth in understanding, students outstanding in learning, advancing higher culture and witness to faith.
During the years immediately following the Second Vatican Council, Catholic universities and colleges throughout the world engaged in an effort to define their nature and mission in the Church and world more clearly. That process witnessed the eager participation of members of the American Catholic academy, chastised as they had been by Monsignor Ellis over ten years earlier.
In 1967, a gathering of Catholic educators in Land O’Lakes, Wisconsin, sponsored by the International Federation of Catholic Universities (IFCU) produced a document that set forth its own credo on the nature of Catholic colleges and universities:
Notice the emphasis given to authority “external to the academic community itself.” The stage was now set for what would become a decades-long effort to resolve growing contemporary tensions between the teaching Church and Catholic institutions of higher learning that existed in a variety of forms within its embrace in the post-conciliar era. Other international meetings would continue to occur but nowhere, at least in my opinion, were these tensions as keenly felt as within the American Catholic academic community.
The controversy surrounding the publication of Pope Paul VI’s encyclical Humanae Vitae21 in 1968, again in my opinion, distracted educators from the process of addressing the issue of the nature and purpose of Catholic institutions of higher education. In the minds of some, however, especially in the United States, Humanae Vitae was precisely the type of Church teaching that provided a timely example with which to frame the debate. Dissent over this encyclical crystallized the polarization between the faithful presentation and teaching of Church doctrine that Pope John XXIII saw as the “greatest concern” of the Council he convened and “the true autonomy and academic freedom in the face of authority of whatever kind” that was the mantra of those who subscribed to the assertions of the Land O’Lakes manifesto. In many respects, The Catholic University of America at the time was the epicenter of the storm.
In 1972, at the invitation of the Holy See and IFCU, Catholic universities and colleges were invited to send delegates to an international congress in Rome, the second such gathering in Rome since Land O’Lakes. Their deliberations resulted in a document, “The Catholic University in the Modern World,”22 which accomplished two major things:
Responding to this document, the Prefect of the Congregation for Catholic Education at that time, Cardinal Gabriel Marie Garrone, wrote that although the statement envisioned the existence of Catholic institutions of higher learning without formally established or statutory links to ecclesiastical authority, Catholic institutions should not consider themselves removed from those relationships with the hierarchical structures of the Church which must characterize institutions that call themselves Catholic.24 A clear point of difference with the Land O’Lakes statement!
Ten years later, the revised 1983 Code of Canon Law,25 also mandated by Pope John XXIII along with the Second Vatican Council at the beginning of his papacy in 1959, introduced
specific legislation intended to address all Catholic colleges and universities, those canonically dependent upon the Church as well as others that claimed a Catholic foundation, character, and purpose but which lacked an explicit canonical establishment. Pope John Paul II had already addressed the former type of institution before the new Code appeared in his apostolic constitution Sapientia Christiana (April 15, 1979).26 It should be noted that the overwhelming majority of Catholic universities and colleges in the United States were of the latter variety. Needless to say, the provisions of the new Code received a chilly reception within the American Catholic academic community.
Magna Carta for Catholic higher education
Himself a Catholic university professor, Pope John Paul II evidenced a great concern for Catholic institutions of higher learning. Following on the heels of both Sapientia Christiana and the 1983 Code of Canon Law, the Holy Father published a second apostolic constitution in 1990 intended to address Catholic universities and colleges that were not ecclesiastical in nature. Ex corde Ecclesiae (August 15, 1990) was, in my opinion, the beginning of the “great thaw” in “the winter of our discontent.”
While not original in the sense that they first appeared in a 1972 document “The Catholic University in the Modern World” produced by the Second International Congress of Delegates of Catholic Universities referred to earlier, the observations of Pope John Paul II summarized what he considered the “bottom line” for Catholic institutions of higher learning. These “essential characteristics” are particularly significant not only because the Holy Father made them his own in Ex corde Ecclesiae but also because they are the reflections of a body of international Catholic educators that helped make the case for a strengthening of the meaning of Catholic identity in Catholic post-secondary academic institutions. Pope John Paul II wrote that:
Since the objective of a Catholic university is to assure in an institutional manner a Christian presence in the university world confronting the great problems of society and culture, every Catholic university as Catholic, must have the following essential characteristics:
To assist in providing that assurance, the Holy Father noted, perhaps in part an answer to “Land O’Lakes” and other responses of similar kind:
With the deftness and insight that have characterized his pontificate and all his writings, drawing upon extraordinary human experiences including that of being a university professor, Pope John Paul II provided in Ex corde Ecclesiae a “magna carta”29 for Catholic higher education throughout the Church, including the United States. Calling for a clearly recognizable relationship between Catholic colleges and universities and the universal and local church in which they exist,30 the Holy Father has wisely required that these institutions “operationalize” their Catholic identity through the assistance of a formal, juridical association with the Church. This juridical dimension and its accompanying call for greater accountability to the Church, unfortunately for some, dominated the discussions that would follow within the American Catholic academic community. I say “unfortunately” because the text and substance of the Holy Father’s apostolic constitution—recognized by many, including those outside of the Catholic academic community, as a magnificent exposition of the unique mission of Catholic higher education—have often been reduced by some to a mere set of legal norms.
When the constitution appeared in its final form, after three drafts and the widest, most extensive public consultations to accompany any Church document, it was generally well received in America. Bishops and Catholic educators in the United States appeared appreciative of the opportunities afforded them by the Congregation for Catholic Education to be involved in its formulation. Some hesitation still lingered in these and other circles with respect to the idea of any juridic norms at all—general or particular—but the prevailing sentiment seemed to be that “there was little to cause anxiety and much to enable and inspire” those involved in Catholic higher education.31
For the better part of the past fifteen years, the bishops and the Catholic academic community in the United States have been engaged in a dialogue regarding the regional application or implementation of the constitution required in its “General Norms.” Here again, several drafts and extensive consultations have accompanied the entire process.
From the beginning, two important presuppositions regarding the outcome of the process have been present: (1) that the application document would include juridic norms; and (2) that the application document would be the product of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops or NCCB (now, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops or USCCB) as an episcopal document.
Although these “understandings” were present, their implications were not always clearly appreciated, even among the bishops. One could legitimately claim that they were often avoided or ignored in the hopes they would simply “go away.” In the months immediately preceding the 1999 NCCB meeting, these elements seemed to be all but forgotten, especially within Catholic academic circles. Discussions among Catholic university presidents for which I was present were openly hostile to the idea of episcopal juridic implementation.
The NCCB established an Implementation Committee of bishops in 1991, and several Catholic university presidents were invited to participate as consultors to the committee. An application document was developed, circulated for consultation, revised, approved by the NCCB with a vote of 224-6 on November 16, 1996, and forwarded to the Holy See for the recognitio required by canon law.32 The Congregation for Catholic Education praised the application but indicated that it needed further juridic refinement, especially with respect to Canon 812’s provision regarding the mandate to teach theological disciplines, before it could be passed on to the Congregation for Bishops.
Although the Holy See’s critique was not well received in the United States, the NCCB Implementation Committee set out to respond positively to the Vatican request. A subcommittee was created in 1997 and revised drafts of an application document were developed and circulated in 1998 and 1999 respectively, again accompanied by extensive consultations. A strong argument was made in the Catholic and secular press by critics of the application, including several university presidents and even some bishops, that its provisions would yield “disastrous” results for Catholic universities and colleges in the United States if approved. Concerns were voiced that the new text was, at best, risky and, at worst, destructive of whatever progress had been made in the ongoing dialogue about Catholic identity that had been occurring among bishops and Catholic educators since Ex corde Ecclesiae was first issued in 1990.
Anyone participating in American Catholic academic life since the Code of Canon Law was revised and promulgated in 1983 has heard these concerns before. In fact, some of the more controversial elements now found in the document of implementation known as The Application33 are already contained in canon law’s treatment of “Catholic Universities and Other Institutes of Higher Studies (807-814),” although they were deemed by educators and some canonists as doubtfully applicable in the American Catholic academic context. Similarly, as Ex corde Ecclesiae progressed through its own draft stages in the late 1980s, these same concerns surfaced again.
It would be a mistake to separate The Application as it currently exists from the constitution itself. The “General Norms” accompanying Ex corde Ecclesiae require “local and regional” implementation of the constitution.34 A very concerted effort was made by those concerned with drafting The Application to insure that this text remained directly focused on the constitution, its exhortations and canonical provisions. In fact, several Catholic university presidents explicitly made that recommendation, myself included, during the consultation. Hence, what is required as normative in the resulting juridic text must always be viewed through the broader lens of the constitution itself for accurate interpretation and implementation.
It would equally be a mistake to separate the constitution and The Application from “the teaching of Vatican II and the directives of the Code of Canon Law” upon which it is based, as Pope John Paul II himself has stated.35Ex corde Ecclesiae, he wrote, “was enriched by the long and fruitful experience of the Church in the realm of universities and open to the promise of future achievements that will require courageous creativity and rigorous fidelity.”36 In the minds of some, these two concepts—courageous creativity and rigorous fidelity—can make strange, even difficult bedfellows. I certainly do not believe that to be the case.
Hope and vision for the future
Apart from a few members of a vanishing generation of Catholic academics, there has been no revolt as had been predicted. In fact, Catholic institutions of higher learning in this country have been unusually quiet given recent history. Catholic universities and colleges continue to possess what the Church has called a “rightful” autonomy and a “legitimate” academic freedom. There have been no major legal battles as had been predicted and the allegedly adverse financial consequences have been exposed as myths. We have witnessed no “pastoral disaster” as one bishop claimed or anything even slightly problematic.
And Catholic teaching continues to be faithfully presented in our institutions by those who are faithful, although it is still challenged by some who view faith and reason at odds. I doubt very much that we will ever make converts of them, no matter what is said or done. The rigorous fidelity of their peers, a new generation of creative Catholic intellectuals and students seeking the truth, and, ultimately, time itself will work together toward the long hoped for renewal in Catholic higher education. The greatest evidence of renewal, however, is present on our campuses within the Catholic students themselves. It has been my experience that they are eager for leadership, hungry for truth, seeking to pray, and open to service to their neighbors. In many ways, they are teaching us.
Ex corde Ecclesiae and The Application promulgated to implement it, in my opinion, spearheaded and inspired an attempt to present a coherent vision that continues to unfold for and within our Catholic universities and colleges in this country. It is up to all of us to replace the tired, negative rhetoric of the not so distant past—when political and polarized ideologies seemed to dominate the conversation—with voices of Catholic scholars and leaders who are faithful and who are “convinced of the priority of the ethical over the technical, of the primacy of the person over things, of the superiority of the spirit over matter,” joining knowledge to conscience;37 voices of Catholic scholars and leaders who do not, in the words of our Holy Father’s encyclical Fides et Ratio, “run from the truth as soon as they glimpse it because they are afraid of its demands”38 but who stand and serve the truth in charity.
New leadership in the Church brings new emphases. Building upon the strong legacy of his predecessor, Pope Benedict XVI has addressed the value and importance of Catholic higher education several times. Even before his election to the papacy, as Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger wrote to me of the importance of involving our Catholic universities and colleges in confronting the pressing moral issues of our day. “Universities,” he stated, (should) “organize symposia, possibly with the participation of representatives of different confessions, religions and cultures, in order to identify currents and points of agreement which may be productive in renewing an understanding of the natural moral law.”39 He sees Catholic universities and colleges as an effective element for positive social and cultural change, a “positive choice,” in his words, for all that Catholicism and Christianity represent.
In a speech at Rome’s Sacred Heart University in 2005, Pope Benedict remarked that “The Catholic university is a great workshop in which, in keeping with the various disciplines, new lines of research are constantly being developed in a stimulating encounter between faith and reason… This then is the great challenge to Catholic universities: to impart knowledge in the perspective of true rationality, different from that of today which largely prevails, in accordance with a reason open to the question of the truth and to the great values inscribed in being itself, hence, open to the transcendent, to God.”40 And when our students graduate, he continued, “How do they leave? What culture did they find, assimilate, develop?” Addressing himself to administration, faculty, staff and students, Pope Benedict encouraged all Catholic universities and colleges “to give life to an authentic Catholic university that excels in the quality of its research and teaching and, at the same time, its fidelity to the Gospel and the Church’s Magisterium.”41
At his Angelus address on January 20, 2008, the Holy Father responded to a protest that, despite the invitation previously extended, occasioned him not to speak on the campus of LaSapienza University in Rome. His words in St. Peter’s Square that day gave us a glimpse into his view of the mission of Catholic higher education in our world today:
Very Reverend David M. O’Connell, C.M., J.C.D., is president of The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C., and a consultor to the Vatican Congregation for Catholic Education.
The Restoration of a Catholic ‘Idea of a University’
Most Rev. David L. Ricken
The 1967 “Land O’Lakes Statement” by leading Catholic educators precipitated a revolution in Catholic higher education that amounted to heresy and schism.43 Major Catholic universities in the United States—Notre Dame, St. Louis University, Georgetown, and Boston College, to name a few—proclaimed their independence from the Magisterium of the Church. Claiming that “the Catholic university must have a true autonomy and academic freedom in the face of authority of every kind, lay or clerical, external to the university itself,” the Land O’Lakes Statement announced its separation from the teaching authority and hierarchy of the Church and established its own magisterium, what Monsignor George Kelly called “a two-headed church.”44 Substituting liberal modernism for Catholic orthodoxy, the Land O’Lakes Statement viewed the mission of the college as conformity to the “modern,” as an education “geared to modern society”45 that resists “theological or philosophical imperialism.”46
Naturally, because no man can serve two masters, Catholic universities that subscribed to the Land O’Lakes Statement disowned their patrimony—the university as a gift from the heart of the Church, Ex corde Ecclesiae—and embraced the model of the secular university with its alleged uninhibited academic freedom. As the Statement reads, nothing is to be “outlawed,” and academic freedom means “no boundaries and no barriers.”47 The consequences of this commitment to the modernist movement are legion: the separation of faith and reason, the loss of Catholic identity, the reign of secular ideology, the establishment of moral relativism as the touchstone of truth, and the loss of an honorable academic heritage rooted in the wisdom of the ages.
Two modern papal pronouncements, John Paul II’s Ex corde Ecclesiae (1990)48 and Benedict XVI’s “Address to Catholic Educators” (2008),49 study this crisis in Catholic higher education and seek to restore the ideals of Catholic higher education. The two popes review the venerable tradition of Catholic learning as a treasury of wisdom that spreads the riches of the Gospel, humanizes and civilizes persons, promotes the dignity and inestimable worth of all human beings, and serves the common good of all societies.
As Pope John Paul II writes, the heritage of the Catholic university cultivates “the joy of learning” and rejoicing in the truth (St. Augustine’s gaudium de veritate).50 It teaches the ability “to think rigorously… to act rightly and to serve humanity better.”51 He argues that, contrary to the opinion of the Land O’Lakes Statement, a Catholic university never stifles the life of the mind or the passion for truth, because Catholic higher learning “is distinguished by its free search for the whole truth about nature, man, and God” and “is dedicated to the research of all aspects of truth in their essential connection with the supreme Truth, who is God.”52 The Catholic university does not inhibit research or censor the quest for knowledge but insists on “the moral, spiritual, and religious dimension” of research and judges the methods and discoveries of science “in the perspective of the totality of the human person.”53
Thus the Catholic Church, “expert in humanity,”54 in its teaching authority always reserves the right to determine the norms of legitimate research and judge the uses of technology and medical procedures as either moral or immoral, as humanizing or dehumanizing, as upholding the dignity of human beings or exploiting persons as objects or instruments. In other words, neither academic freedom nor human freedom are absolute. Although the birth control pill, embryonic stem-cell research, and cloning have acquired respectability in the medical and scientific professions, the Magisterium of the Church exercises a higher standard than the secular world’s criteria of utility, pragmatism, and progress.
Likewise, Pope Benedict XVI’s address warns educators that the test of truth goes beyond contemporary intellectual fashions, whether it is “the cold pragmatic calculations of utility” that determine right and wrong on the basis of self-interest or cost-effectiveness, the “positivistic mentality” that exalts the scientific method and empirical data as the ultimate test of objective truth or “secularist ideology” that divorces reason and faith and reduces truth to political opinion.55
While the Catholic university welcomes all knowledge from the many fields of learning and honors the freedom “to search for the truth wherever careful analysis of evidence leads you,” this human knowledge does not qualify the modern university’s pursuit of academic freedom “to justify positions that contradict the faith and the teaching of the Church.”56 Revealed knowledge and the divine wisdom of God from Scripture, tradition, and the teachings of the Magisterium represent eternal and ultimate truths that subordinate man’s knowledge and human wisdom. That is, if worldly wisdom in the form of legal decisions, medical ethics, and political views claims the “right” to abortion, euthanasia, or same-sex marriage, the Church judges these views in the light of revealed truth, eternal law, natural law, and the teachings of the Church’s encyclicals.
In short, contrary to the Land O’Lakes Statement, academic freedom, scholarly knowledge, and human opinion possess no independent authority or autonomy exclusive of the Church. As Cardinal Newman explains in The Idea of a University,57 when the circle of knowledge excludes theology from the body of truth, it creates a void. Because nature abhors a vacuum, other fields of knowledge then usurp the authority of theology and assume airs of their own infallibility. Newman writes, “Religious doctrine is knowledge, in as full a sense as Newton’s doctrine is knowledge. University teaching without theology is simply unphilosophical. Theology has at least as good a right to claim a place there as astronomy.”58 The modern, then, must be judged in the light of the ancient, and science must be judged in the light of theology. The question is not only “Is it possible?” but also “Is it moral?”
Given the recent crisis in Catholic higher education and its renunciation of its venerable ideals of transmitting the fullness and unity of the truth, the treasury of wisdom from great art and literature, its integration of reason and faith, and its education of the whole person, how can Catholic higher education in the modern world restore its sublime vision of “the idea of a university”? How does it once again reclaim its special identity as many small Catholic alternative colleges strive to create a living Catholic ethos on their campuses?
Fifty percent of education consists of atmosphere, G. K. Chesterton remarked, and one of the marks of authentic Catholic education is the culture or environment that it creates. In the right atmosphere or environment, natural, vigorous growth follows whether it is the life of a plant, an animal, or a human being—whether it is the life of the mind, the heart, or the soul. As Pope Benedict XVI proposed in his “Address to Catholic Educators,” the renewal of Catholic higher education requires colleges with a distinct, unmistakable Catholic identity. He asks, “Is the faith tangible in our universities and schools? Is it given fervent expression liturgically, sacramentally, through prayer, acts of charity, a concern for justice, and respect for God’s creation?”59
This aura of a genuine Catholic culture expresses itself in small things and in great matters. Do young men and young women dress in good taste and beautiful modesty and behave with gracious civility and cheerful affability? Is theology an integral part of the curriculum, and are students introduced to the riches of Scripture, the wisdom of the church fathers, and the lives and writings of the saints? Does the ordinary life of students allow for friendship, conversation, athletics, contemplation, and prayer—a balanced, rhythmic life of work and play, activity and rest? Does the curriculum instill in students a desire to discover knowledge, to love the truth, to defend the good, and even to suffer for noble ideals such as the right to life and the defense of traditional marriage? Does the college introduce students to “the best which has been thought and said”60 in the books and courses that form the course of study?
Bona fide Catholic colleges manifest tell-tale signs that introduce students to a world that radiates purity, charity, joy, and wonder—what the Greeks called the art of living well as opposed to merely living, surviving, or earning a livelihood. As Benedict XVI states, “Catholic identity is not dependent upon statistics. Neither can it be equated simply with orthodoxy of course content.”61 A day in the life of a true Catholic university reveals prayer, learning, conviviality, charity, and service—daily Mass, the study of great subjects or classics, the joy of learning for its own sake, the graces of friendship, civility, and hospitality. This atmosphere is always reflecting goodness, beauty, and truth in its myriad forms—in St. Paul’s words, “whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely” (Phil 4:8). Thus, a Catholic university brooks no tolerance for the base, the ugly, the tawdry, or the banal. Rock music, prurient or lewd films, access to internet pornography, or student organizations that promote homosexuality all poison the entire ambience of a Catholic university and rob it of its identity.
An authentic Catholic college, then—like a loving home—breathes life and invites participation. It cultivates an atmosphere that makes truth good (“Taste and see the sweetness of the Lord,” declares the Psalmist in Psalms 34:8), associates the beautiful with the true (“Glory be to God for dappled things,” writes Gerard Manley Hopkins)62, and equates the good with the true (“You love us, Lord, as if we were the only one,” St. Augustine states). Whenever truth, goodness, and beauty are appreciated and cherished for their own sake—as ends in themselves—they create what Cardinal Newman calls an “overflow.” Newman explains: “Good is not only good, but reproductive of good; this is one of its attributes; nothing is excellent, beautiful, perfect, desirable for its own sake, but it overflows, and spreads the likeness of itself all around it.”63 In this atmosphere of overflowing and spreading, prayer, love of learning, and mirth happen naturally, and students acquire a sense of the excellent, the highest, and the noblest—the Christian ideals that restore man’s dignity and remind him of the meaning of being a human being created in the image of God.
As Pope Benedict remarks in his “Address to Catholic Educators,” a Catholic college that inspires the imitation of Christ moves a person “to lead a new life characterized by all that is beautiful, good, and true.”64 This aspiration for transcendent values and eternal truths provides student with a moral vision that transcends popular culture, political ideology, and moral relativism—the mentality of “political correctness.” Benedict XVI writes, “Similarly the Church never tires of upholding the essential moral categories of right and wrong” lest man embrace the “cold pragmatic calculations of utility which render the person little more than a pawn on some ideological chess-board.”65 In the environment of a Catholic college, a student learns that truth is divine in origin, not man-made; he discovers that truth is eternal and universal, not relative or subjective; he recognizes that faith and reason complement one another and, in Benedict XVI’s words, “never contradict one another.”66 As the Pope explains, a Catholic college that informs minds with the light of divine wisdom teaches that “it is not praxis that creates truth but truth that should serve as the basis of praxis.”67 In short, the intellectual atmosphere of a Catholic college creates an environment that exemplifies the liberating academic spirit of St. Thomas Aquinas, who frequently quoted St. Ambrose: “All truth, whoever said it, comes from the Holy Spirit.”
Rising above the platitudes of secular ideologies that profess “diversity” and “tolerance” as absolute values and that define the autonomous individual as the ultimate authority of truth (Protagoras’ “man is the measure of all things”), a Catholic intellectual culture pursues what Benedict XVI calls “the fullness and unity of truth”68—divine revelation, tradition, the wisdom of the past, the universality of great art and literature, the lessons of history, and the laws of science. In short, the intellectual culture of a Catholic college creates in the mind a sense of “enlargement” to use Cardinal Newman’s word from The Idea of a University69—the antithesis of intellectual trendiness or narrow ideology. Hence authentic Catholic colleges do not confer honorary degrees to heretical thinkers, welcome guest lecturers, or hire faculty that profess ideas that oppose the Church’s teachings on faith and morals. Like the Christian faith, a Catholic university is countercultural.
The environment of a Catholic college instills refinement in manners, morals, feeling, and thinking. In The Idea of a University, Newman argues that a liberal education forms a quality of mind that acts upon man’s moral nature and sensitizes him to practice acts of courtesy and honor in virtues such as “veracity, probity, equity, fairness, gentleness, fairness, benevolence, and amiableness”70—all qualities that elevate human life and create a civil society. This refinement of mind acquires a natural taste for the noble, the chivalrous, and the ideal—what Newman calls “a fastidiousness, analogous to the delicacy or daintiness which good nurture or a sickly habit induces in respect of food.”71
This appreciation for high standards develops a discernment about the difference between proper and improper, civilized and barbaric, and excellent and mediocre—a sense of discrimination that forms “an absolute loathing of certain offences, or a detestation and scorn of them as ungentlemanlike.”72 Thus a liberal education fosters a moral sensibility that refuses to lower itself to crude manners, coarse language, or small-minded meanness. A refined mind possesses what Newman calls “a safeguard” or sense of shame that inhibits vulgarity or boorishness unworthy of a gentleman or lady—“an irresolution and indecision in doing wrong, which will act as a remora [delay] till the danger is passed away.”73 Hence, an authentic Catholic university will never host films, plays, or musical performances that give offense and stoop to bad taste, vulgarity, and obscenity in the name of academic freedom.
Another mark of Catholic education is a commitment to universal knowledge. John Paul alludes to a Catholic university’s “free search for the whole truth about nature, man, and God,”74 and Benedict XVI refers to the university’s obligation to communicate “the objective truth which, in transcending the particular and the subjective, points to the universal and absolute….”75 This thesis of course informs Newman’s The Idea of a University: “A university, I should lay down, by its very name professes to teach universal knowledge.”76 This type of liberal or classical education, then, values the great books of the past and immerses students in the classical-Christian tradition of Western civilization that illuminates the meaning of a “perennial philosophy” or knowledge of the “permanent things” such as the human condition, the unchanging nature of the human heart, the truth about love, or the ideals of manhood and femininity.
As students discover the permanence and continuity of universal knowledge by learning of the indebtedness of Plato to Socrates, Virgil to Homer, Dante to Virgil, Chaucer to Dante, or Dante to Aquinas, their study of the classics illuminates their minds with an understanding of the nature of wisdom—what is true for all people in all times and in all places. The restoration of Catholic higher education requires courses of study inspired by these great minds and masterpieces at the heart of the curriculum. As C.S. Lewis observed, not to have read the classics is like never having drunk wine, never having swum in the ocean, and never having been in love. The modern substitution of other studies for bona fide liberal arts courses in the humanities destroys the whole idea of universal knowledge as the essence of the university and creates the problem of “fragmentation” that Benedict XVI cites as a problem of the modern university.77
Because the genius of Catholicism consists of its balanced view of all of reality and the whole nature of man—its appreciation of both scientific knowledge and divine revelation, its respect for both reason and faith, its recognition of man as both body and soul, its confidence in both nature and grace—a Catholic university nourishes the mind, body, heart, and soul of its students, aspiring for the golden mean of a sound mind in a sound body, a charitable heart and a lively intelligence, social graces and a contemplative life. A Catholic university is not a place for technical training, an athletic camp, endless political activity or a monastic life. As Benedict XVI writes, “Truth speaks to the individual in his or her entirety, inviting us to respond with our whole being.”78 A Catholic university that speaks to persons in their entirety instills a love of leisure and the enjoyment of play as the essence of human happiness and as a reminder of man’s spiritual and religious nature—man’s need to rest on the Sabbath and worship God, to restore his strength and uplift his heart.
While a Catholic university forms virtues of mind, heart, and conscience that ennoble human work and elevate human society, it also instills an appreciation for the life after work—the capacity to enjoy all of life’s simple and aesthetic pleasures from the delight in friendship and hospitality to a love of music and art. This cultivation of the whole person—the senses, the imagination, the intellect—serves a person both at work and at play for a lifetime. In short, a Catholic university that addresses “the whole being” of man awakens a love of life in all of its abundance and richness. However, when modern universities disown their obligation of authority in loco parentis, create occasions of sin and temptation with coeducational dormitories, and ignore the physical health and spiritual well-being of students with ready availability of contraceptives, they do not show care for the whole person.
“See how they love one another,” the pagans said of the early Christians. The first followers of Christ possessed an unmistakable identity. They honored their marriage vows, they did not abandon their children to die on the mountains, and they practiced charity in the way they shared their possessions. “See how they live. See how they talk and treat one another. See how they play. See how they learn. See what they study. See how they think,” observers should say of the Catholic university as they see the light in the eyes, the joy and peace in the hearts, the kindness in the actions, the mirth in the games, the wonder in the minds, and the image of God in the souls of students and teachers doing their ordinary work in their part of the vineyard living in the world but not of the world.
It is important to be reminded that Christ taught us, “By their fruits you shall know them” (Mt 7:16). Certainly that applies to Catholic education. To be faithful to the Lord’s admonition, Catholic colleges must address the whole person—mind, body, heart, and soul—and illuminate the meaning of wisdom, purity, charity, and God’s mystery.
Bishop David L. Ricken, J.C.L., S.T.L., is Bishop of the Diocese of Green Bay, Wisconsin. He previously served as the Bishop of Cheyenne, Wyoming, and presided over the founding of Wyoming Catholic College.
Vatican II, Evangelization and Catholic Higher Education
Dr. John P. Hittinger
It is rare to find members of Catholic colleges and universities aware of the late Holy Father’s encouragement to them and his trust in them to take up the task of evangelization in Christifideles laici79 and Ex corde Ecclesiae.80
Indeed, the very word, evangelization, is jarring to the solemnity of institutional autonomy or academic freedom and questions the staid emulation of the secular academy now so deeply embedded in Catholic higher education. But there it is, the culminating point of Ex corde Ecclesiae, prominently displayed as if on a lamp stand: “By its very nature, each Catholic university makes an important contribution to the Church’s work of evangelization… all the basic academic activities of a Catholic university are connected with and in harmony with the evangelizing mission of the Church.”81
What are we to make of this claim and this trust given to the universities? In the previous section, Pope John Paul II defines the notion of evangelization as follows:
This passage provides us with a proper orientation to the meaning of “evangelization.” As expected, it means “preaching the gospel,” the very idea that may cause the academy alarm that its mission is reduced to proselytism. But the gospel must be preached in a certain way, or with a certain end in view, namely that the dynamic relationship between faith and life is rightly and fruitfully established. We must recall that in the documents of Vatican II, a council celebrated for its absence of “anathema sit,” there is a condemnation of the split between faith and life, as the “serious error of our age.”83 The error consists in two extremes of either withdrawing into a religious sphere separated from the daily life of the world (“otherworldliness”), or alternatively, engaging in worldly affairs as if religion has no bearing on temporal matters (“secularism”). Faith must be available, through personal assimilation and cultural embodiment, to “transform” and “renew” humanity. The Catholic university is uniquely positioned and endowed to overcome this split. Through its formation and preparation of the young for entry into society, the Catholic university can assist men and women to fashion a unity of faith and life so that they bring the good news into “all strata of humanity.” And through the academic way of life, after the manner of a Socrates or Augustine, the Catholic university can challenge and upset “humanity’s criteria of judgment” and explore the integral human good. The central place for evangelization in the vision for Catholic higher education accorded by Pope John Paul II reflects his commitment to implement the message of Vatican II, as already begun by his predecessor, Pope Paul VI.
I would argue, therefore, that our failure to understand or to respond to this urgent plea for evangelization by Pope John Paul II is proportionate to the failure to understand or implement the message of the Second Vatican Council. For “evangelization” is the heart of the message of Vatican II, sometimes stated as such, or couched in the rubric of “missionary mandate” or “lay apostolate.”
Pope John Paul II never tired of voicing his gratitude for Vatican II. The Council, he said, was “the gift of the Spirit to the Church,”84 “the great grace bestowed on the Church in the twentieth century,”85 and “what the Spirit is saying to the Church with regard to the present phase of the history of salvation.”86 He made reference to his reliance upon its teaching and guidelines: it is “the authentic depository of the predictions and promises made by Christ to the apostles,”87 a “treasure… in the guidelines offered to us by the Second Vatican Council,”88 and a “sure compass by which to take our bearings.”89 He frequently spoke of our need as a Church to steep ourselves in its teachings.
In Christifideles laici, John Paul said “the lay faithful are invited to take up again and reread, meditate on and assimilate with renewed understanding and love, the rich and fruitful teaching of the Council.”90 In Novo Millennio Ineunte, John Paul challenged the Church “to examine herself on the reception given to the Council,” and repeated his plea that the Council documents, having “lost nothing of their value or brilliance,” need to be “read correctly, widely known, and taken to heart.”91 Indeed, Pope John Paul II concluded the apostolic letter repeating his now famous call to put out into the deep (“duc in altum”) because “a new millennium is opening before the Church like a vast ocean upon which we shall venture.”92
The missionary mandate (Mt. 28:19) accompanies us on this journey. Christ is at work today and we may rely upon him for our venture of faith. So in Ex corde Ecclesiae he says that his hope is that “these prescriptions, based on the teaching of Vatican Council II will enable Catholic universities to fulfill their indispensable mission in the new advent of grace that is opening up to the new millennium.”93 He wrote Ex corde with an eye toward the Jubilee and the new millennium. To take part in the venture to which we are called as Catholic educators, we must have “discerning eyes” and a “generous heart.”94
Presuming upon the generous hearts of my readers, I wish to make a small contribution to the discernment we need to see and begin to act for the paramount aim of Catholic higher education—evangelization. In this paper I wish to make a summary of the teachings of Vatican II in order to highlight the notion of lay apostolate and to see how this provides the essential purpose and ultimate outcomes, if you will, of Catholic higher education today. I will also indicate how the thought and writing of Pope John Paul II on Catholic higher education, including Ex corde, amplify and apply this teaching and purpose. I will conclude with some brief comments about what this means for Catholic higher education at the present moment.
Vatican II and evangelization
The mission, or gift of service [munus], of Catholic higher education, as evangelization, emerges through the notion of lay apostolate. We need to view this notion in the light of the dynamic relationship of the four major Documents of Vatican II—The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (Lumen Gentium), The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (Sacrosanctum concilium), The Dogmatic Constitution on Revelation (Dei verbum), and The Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World (Gaudium et spes). In addition, we must briefly consider some passages from The Decree On the Apostolate of the Laity (Apostolicam Actuositatem), The Decree On the Mission Activity of the Church (Ad Gentes), and finally, The Declaration On Christian Education (Gravissimum Educationis). Arguably, the notion of lay apostolate, fully and properly understood, is the central focus of the entire Council. At the end of this paper, I provide a schematic of these seven documents exhibiting their relation to lay apostolate.
We must first of all consider the approach to the Church as “mystery” in Lumen Gentium.95 Not reducible to a sociological complex or a political interest group, the Church is a “communion of life, love, and truth,”96 “a sign and instrument of communion with God and of unity among all men.”97 The Church is a “complex reality” which comes together from “a human and a divine element,” much like the mystery of the incarnation of the Word.98 It is her mission to “reveal in the world, faithfully, however darkly, the mystery of her Lord.”99 Indeed, the church must fulfill the command of Christ to spread the faith to the very ends of the earth. The mandate to preach the gospel (Mt. 28:18-20), to evangelize, gives rise to a work that constitutes more than proclaiming the gospel: “through her work, whatever good is in the minds and hearts of men, whatever good lies latent in the religious practices and cultures of diverse peoples, is not only saved from destruction but is also cleansed, raised up and perfected unto the glory of God, the confusion of the devil and the happiness of man.”100 In other words, evangelization accomplishes renewal and transformation of culture. This requires entry into all “strata” of humanity and society.101 Here emerges the critical role for the laity.
The laity have a special role to play in the mission of the Church: “The laity are given this special vocation: to make the Church present and fruitful in those places and circumstances where it is only through them that she can become the salt of the earth. Thus, every lay person, through those gifts given to him, is at once the witness and the living instrument of the mission of the Church itself ‘according to the measure of Christ’s bestowal.’”102 This vocation is called “lay apostolate,” and it is said to be “sharing in the salvific mission of the Church.”103 The laity are a witness and instrument primarily in the world, in secular activities, structures, and communities.104
The laity share in the three-fold mission of Christ, as priest, prophet, and king. We can not do better than to quote Pope John Paul II’s own summary of Lumen Gentium:
The world, temporal society, is the place where the laity exercise their apostolate. So we must briefly examine the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World (Gaudium et spes). Called to make common cause with men and women of goodwill, Christians need to understand the trends of the modern world in light of the gospel and the Catholic intellectual tradition. The document looks to the human aspiration for greater freedom and participation as a good thing, the awareness of human dignity and concern for rights is another positive aspect of the modern world, and finally the trend toward greater communication and exchange among all members of the world is a sign of a longing for brotherhood. But along with these signs of human development there are also signs which contradict them—the development of new forms of servitude, opportunities for debasement, and increased divisions and hatreds. In his first encyclical letter, Redemptor hominis,106 Pope John Paul II traces and elaborates on these themes from Gaudium et spes. A true Christian anthropology, a theocentric humanism, is the deep truth modern man needs to confront the challenges and fulfill his destiny. In light of the Christian anthropology, members of the Church will join in to explore ways to deal with five areas of special urgency: family and marriage, culture, economics, politics, and war and international cooperation. In light of the life and teaching of Christ, Christians can become involved in the common work of building a more just and humane world.
As explained in Ad Gentes, this activity takes on a missionary aspect and becomes a work of evangelization because the Christian acts as a leaven “even in the secular history of mankind.”107 Missionary activity is “an epiphany, or a manifesting of God’s decree, and its fulfillment in the world and in world history.”108 Missionary activity “wells up from the Church’s inner nature.”109 Pope John Paul II again amplifies this notion in his encyclical letter Redemptoris missio wherein he speaks of the “‘Areopagus’ in the modern world” as the new sectors which must be of special concern and attention of lay people today.110 The Church seeks to overcome the split between faith and culture.
The scope of this work and apostolate is vast. Pope John Paul II and Paul VI both refer to the Decree On the Apostolate of the Laity (Apostolicam Actuositatem) which sets out key areas such as family, youth, professional life, politics, and international relations.111 A broader and more intense apostolate is necessary to meet the challenge of the present day, which again is stated in terms of an exaggerated autonomy of temporal affairs, or secularism which involve a “departure from the ethical and religious order” in the name of autonomy.112 In an important passage in Gaudium et spes, the Council fathers distinguish true and false autonomy of temporal affairs, seeking to avoid otherworldliness and secularism: “created things and societies themselves enjoy their own laws and values which must be gradually deciphered, put to use, and regulated by men.”113 The sciences and arts must be allowed to unfold according to their different methods. “But if the expression, the independence of temporal affairs, is taken to mean that created things do not depend on God, and that man can use them without any reference to their Creator, anyone who acknowledges God will see how false such a meaning is.”114
Lay apostolate requires a wise combination of knowledge of the secular disciplines with a keen sense of the origin and end of all things in God, i.e., a theological context and perspective. But ultimately the lay person must achieve in their own person and work the unity of faith and life. The Church must be present to these groups and involved in the various activities and projects of the world today, or else modern man will be turned away from God by an excessive preoccupation with technology and mastery.115 The Council fathers say that the principal duty of men and women is “to bear witness to Christ, by their life and their words, in the family, in their social group, and in the sphere of their profession.”116 This is called “the apostolate of the laity.” As John Paul II says with very poignant words, the importance of this apostolate is made clear: “On a continent marked by competition and aggressiveness, unbridled consumerism and corruption, lay people are called to embody deeply evangelical values such as mercy, forgiveness, honesty, transparency of heart and patience in difficult situations. What is expected from the laity is a great creative effort in activities and works demonstrating a life in harmony with the Gospel.”117 The terms of the challenge are familiar—we must achieve unity of faith and life and bring the faith or the gospel to culture.
Contribution of Catholic higher education
How will such a vision be implemented and come to pass? Such a vision requires the special mission and resources of Catholic higher education. In Gaudium et spes the challenge to the laity is said to be the development of a “well-formed Christian conscience” so that they may “see that the divine law is inscribed in the life of the earthly city.”118 The task requires as well the development of technical and professional competence. What is demanded of the lay person is a “vital synthesis” of “humane, domestic, professional, social and technical enterprises” with religious values, under whose “supreme direction all things are harmonized unto God’s glory.”119 In the spirit of Maritain’s notion of “integral humanism,” John Paul II concludes Christifideles laici with an articulation of “a total integrated formation for living an integrated life.”120 Of what does such an integral human education consist?
The first element and the foundation for this education must be “living by faith in the divine mystery of creation and redemption.”121 Obviously, the foundation for such formation and education is the knowledge of revelation through scripture and tradition, since “sacred tradition and sacred Scripture make up a single sacred deposit of the Word of God, which is entrusted to the Church.”122 Sacred scripture must be part of the education for lay apostolate as it is said: “access to sacred Scripture ought to be open wide to the Christian faithful.”123 Indeed, it is through the “word of the living God” that we are formed as a community.124 And we recall that “only meditation on the word of God” can we bring others to Christ and “make sound judgments on the true meaning and value of temporal realities.”125
The second element in the education for lay apostolate would be the study of theology, ethics, and philosophy. Although called “solid doctrinal instruction,”126 such a study must be animated by the vital dialectic between faith and reason. Pope John Paul II sets out the vision for “an integral education” when he writes that “faith and reason are like two wings on which the human spirit rises to the contemplation of truth.”127 He says further that faith and reason each contain the other128 and that one without the other is “impoverished and enfeebled.”129 Unpacking these ideas will provide very fruitful direction for the education of lay people for their apostolate. It is also useful to look back to the pioneers commended by John Paul II (Newman, Maritain, Gilson, and Stein) precisely in their efforts to connect the dynamic interplay of faith and reason with the formation of the laity for their special role within the Church. Certainly, Newman, Maritain, and Gilson were forerunners of Vatican II in their interests in the life of the laity in the Church and in their educational concerns for finding a proper balance between faith and reason.
The third element is said to be “general culture along with practical and technical formation.”130 Although this component may vary according to circumstances, clearly basic cultural literacy and ability to engage the culture and communicate in it are essential to lay apostolate. Science and technology are an important part of the modern world and the aspiration toward greater mastery. In addition, Pope John Paul II said that the modern age is especially an age of social communications, and that this is the first areopagus for evangelization. So too, practical and technical training depends in large measure on the profession chosen for achievement by the students.
Fourth, the lay apostle needs to have a knowledge of “social teaching especially, its principles and conclusions, as will fit them for contributing to the progress of that teaching, and for making correct application of these same principles and conclusions in individual cases.”131 Pope John Paul II, in speaking of the education for lay apostolate, states that lay people need “an exact knowledge of the Church’s social teaching.”132 The importance and role of the family needs to be the hallmark of this social teaching. But also, the political context for all social action must be understood. In Gaudium et spes, the Council fathers say that “there is no better way” to establish political life than by encouraging “an inward sense of justice of good will” and by consolidating basic convictions about the “true nature of the political community and the aim, proper exercise, and limits of political authority.”133 In other words, political philosophy is a very important part of the education for lay apostolate. Given the importance of dialogue and the trends toward greater international solidarity and cooperation, the lay apostle must be knowledgeable of diverse cultures, regions, and religions.
We have thus drawn from the documents of Vatican II, with the help of Pope John Paul II, the guidelines for Catholic education today, if we are to take seriously lay apostolate as the outcome or fundamental aim of Catholic education.
The unity of faith and life must be lived out in charity. In Apostolicam Actuositatem, the Council fathers said the sacraments, especially the Eucharist, “communicate and nourish that charity which is the soul of the entire apostolate.”134 This phrase no doubt alludes to the famous book, The Soul of the Apostolate by Dom Chautard, in which he explains how apostolate must be the fruit and overflow of interior life, an interior life centered on the Eucharist: “Our Lord wanted to institute this Sacrament in order to make it the center of all action, of all loyal idealism, of every apostolate that could be of any real use to the Church.”135 Chautard said “the living memorial of the Passion revives the divine fire in the soul of the apostle when its seems on the point of going out.”136 He draws the necessary conclusion or law of apostolate if you will: “the efficacy of the apostolate almost invariably corresponds to the degree of Eucharistic life acquired by a soul.”137
The apostolate of the laity requires “intimate union with Christ in the Church” chiefly by “active participation in the sacred liturgy.”138 It is interesting to go back and read the famous line from the document on liturgy: “The liturgy is the summit toward which the activity of the Church is directed; it is also the fount from which all her power flows. For the goal of apostolic endeavor is that all who are made sons of God by faith and baptism should come together to praise God in the midst of his Church, to take part in the Sacrifice and to eat the Lord’s Supper.”139 The source and summit of Christian life is directly linked to apostolate in the second sentence. So the source and summit of the life of the Church must frame for us an “apostolic goal,” that is, the Eucharist must send us forth to draw things to Christ and to renew the world in the Spirit. In receiving the sacred Body and Blood of Our Lord, must we not desire to serve him in love? We must be apostolic.
If we turn to section 8 of Ecclesia de Eucharistia we find a beautiful statement about the renewal and restoration of the world through the Eucharist:
The “coming forth” and “return” is a variation of St Thomas Aquinas’ account of the structure of Summa, called in Latin the “exitus/reditus.” All things come forth from God, rational creatures return to God through reason and virtue, law and grace. The incarnation of Christ redeems man, body, and soul. The coming forth and return is reiterated in a key section of Gaudium et spes on the proper autonomy of secular affairs; the world is good and has a “proper autonomy” deriving from its creaturely status. False autonomy asserts that created things do not depend on God, and that man can use them without any reference to their Creator. The proper framework for apostolate is to understand the proper origin and end of creation in the Creator God. Without the creator, the creature is lost and becomes unintelligible.141
The Eucharist therefore leads us to a deep affirmation of the goodness of God’s creation. Father Vann says that Thomas Aquinas is the Doctor of the Eucharist because he is “the expounder of this great affirmation: all things are good in themselves though evil has damaged and twisted them.”142 To restore what is damaged by sin; to straighten what is twisted and perverted by human willfulness—that is the effect of the Eucharist; that is the challenge to the lay faithful to bring to the altar God’s good creation, now wounded by sin, but redeemed by the sacrifice of Christ. This is lay apostolate.
A brief look at the document on Christian education (Gravissimum Educationis) would complete our effort to see the connection between the role of the Catholic university in evangelization and the thrust of Vatican II. The document opens with a reference to the Council’s care for the importance of education “in the life of man and how its influence ever grows in the social progress of this age.”143 The very conditions of the new era (i.e., growing awareness of human dignity, the movement for an active participation in economic and political life, new leisure, and new means of communication) make it both “easier” and more urgent to achieve this education. Attempts are made “everywhere” to promote “more education.” To fulfill its mandate for evangelization the Church has a role in the “progress and development of education.”144 The true end of education is the formation of the human person “in the pursuit of his ultimate end and the good of the societies of which, as man, he is a member, and in whose obligations, as an adult, he will share.”145 Young people must be helped to “acquire a mature sense of responsibility.”146 Such education should not only achieve the mature sense of their own responsibility but also cultivate awareness of the gift of faith and the opportunity to witness to the hope within them.147 The Church is responsible for announcing the good news to all men and is bound “to provide an education by which the whole life of man is imbued by the spirit of Christ and to promote the temporal good.”148 Catholic education should orient “the whole of human culture to the message of salvation” so that knowledge is illumined by faith.149 Such an education prepares students to work for the welfare of the world and to live “an exemplary apostolic life” and be a leaven in society.150
Specifically, through the Catholic university the Church ensures a “public, enduring and pervasive influence of the Christian mind in the furtherance of culture.”151 Its students will be formed to be outstanding in their training and “ready to undertake weighty responsibilities in society and witness to the faith in the world.”152 Such a project must achieve the integration of faith and reason. The university respects the autonomy of the disciplines153 and strives to be true to the principles and methods of each discipline. And yet at a Catholic university there is an aspiration that “there may be a deeper realization of the harmony of faith and science.”154
The Council recommends the tradition of the doctors of the Church on faith and reason, especially the thought of St. Thomas Aquinas. John Paul II similarly commends Thomas Aquinas in his encyclical on Fides et ratio: “Saint Thomas is an authentic model for all who seek the truth. In his thinking, the demands of reason and the power of faith found the most elevated synthesis ever attained by human thought, for he could defend the radical newness introduced by Revelation without ever demeaning the venture proper to reason.”155 He also makes reference to Pope Paul VI, quoting an important passage from his allocution:
I think we can see here a fitting conclusion to our study of Vatican II and lay apostolate and Catholic higher education. Vatican II, as we have seen, balances a respect for the world and its structures with the supernatural perspective of faith. It is precisely the radicality or newness of the gospel, made available through baptism, which gives the laity their participation in the office of Christ as priest, prophet, and king. The “secularity” of the lay member of the church is the distinctive attribute noted by the Council. But such secularity must be matched by, formed by, the radicality or newness of the gospel. Catholic higher education can avoid those extremes of the negation of the world and the marginalization of faith through paying attention to the mission of evangelization and the outcome of producing men and women who can be lay apostles.
Catholic higher education at the present moment
Catholic universities must set forth their vision for an integral education for lay apostolate and fulfill the trust given to them by Pope John Paul II for evangelization. We have instead accepted and exacerbated the split or divergence between faith and life, faith and reason, and faith and culture. A few lessons we may learn from the documents of Vatican II as a context for reading Ex corde Ecclesiae concern three points: (1) communio and the unity of faith and life, (2) curriculum and the unity of faith and reason, and (3) integration and the unity of faith and culture.
Communio and the unity of faith and life: The university must be first of all a true community rooted in faith, “ecclesial faith” as Pope Benedict would put it to American educators.157 The importance of hiring to mission is not only a matter of the statistical count of Catholics on the faculty or students recruited. There must be a faithful community gathered around the Eucharist. Out of this faithful communion springs the community of “joy in truth” that marks the university. The community itself is the first “sign” of God’s presence in the world.158 Around the sacrifice of the Mass and the word of God the community finds its bearings. At the very outset of the encyclical Fides et ratio, Pope John Paul II says that the young have no point of reference for their lives because the teachers have given up: “this time of rapid and complex change can leave especially the younger generation, to whom the future belongs and on whom it depends, with a sense that they have no valid points of reference. The need for a foundation for personal and communal life becomes all the more pressing at a time when we are faced with the patent inadequacy of perspectives in which the ephemeral is affirmed as a value and the possibility of discovering the real meaning of life is cast into doubt.159 We owe to the students to provide the points of reference embedded in our heritage and way of life. The professors are the first models and witnesses of the unity of faith and life. Their position at the university is an apostolic venture.
Curriculum and the unity of faith and reason: The dynamic interplay of faith and reason must characterize the curriculum of a Catholic university. This means that philosophy and theology provide the fundamental structure and animating content of the education. Authentic Catholic theology must be offered with no fear of watering it down. In addition, the curriculum requires a philosophy “consonant with the word of God” to complement the study of theology.160 As we noted above, St Thomas Aquinas should be the model for the dynamic formation curriculum. The unity of faith and reason is a model or template for the achievement of western culture as such, and some access to this achievement and its principles are important for Catholic higher education today.161 The plea for integration of knowledge and the encouragement of interdisciplinary studies should be viewed in the light of the formation for lay apostolate and the fragmentation of culture. A concern is expressed in Gaudium et spes about the influence of scientism, materialism, pragmatism and the deformation of education; they express the aspiration for a humanistic education achieved in “synthesis” of wisdom, the whole truth, a synthesis based upon the “whole human person,” a blending of sciences and morality and doctrine.162 All of this serves the renewal of life and culture of fallen man. Catholic education “strengthens, purifies, and restores” culture in Christ.163
Integration and the unity of faith and culture: The integration requires a capstone course of some kind to facilitate that “synthesis” of professional knowledge with the theological principle. The faculty must be the chief models for this. Faculty development is required so that all faculty may place their discipline within a Christian worldview, as called for Ex corde Ecclesiae: “University teachers should seek to improve their competence and endeavor to set the content, objectives, methods, and results of research in an individual discipline within the framework of a coherent world vision. Christians among the teachers are called to be witnesses and educators of authentic Christian life, which evidences an attained integration between faith and life, and between professional competence and Christian wisdom. All teachers are to be inspired by academic ideals and by the principles of an authentically human life.”164 Clearly, the faculty at a Catholic university are the means of its success. As the decree on Christian education states: “Teachers must remember that it depends chiefly upon them whether the Catholic school achieves its purpose.”165 A recent sociological study of Catholic higher education underscores the pressing need for faculty development if universities are to maintain a sense of mission.166 The notion of lay apostolate and evangelization based upon the documents of Vatican II should be the foundation of any program for development.
The challenge by Pope John Paul II for Catholic universities to participate in the evangelization of culture could provide an opportunity for them to discover their true energy and splendor. For the Catholic colleges and universities that now struggle for maintaining their existence, the integrity of the evangelizing mission provides a framework for establishing priorities for re-structuring and re-allocation. For those colleges and universities that continue to see an increase in student enrollment and donations, the challenge continues to be that of fidelity to the Church and to see that the notion that unity of life and faith, or the internal coherence of Christian witness, is the primary value at stake in the educational arena, and not worldly success.
Taking a Catholic View on Academic Freedom
Rev. Joseph W. Koterski, S.J.
So much about an answer depends on the way one poses the question. In the old story about the two monks who liked to smoke, for instance, it is easy to see why the one who asked if he could pray while smoking received permission, but the one who asked if he could smoke while praying had his request denied.
There is all the difference in the world between asking whether academic freedom is an indispensable condition for intellectual inquiry or is itself the goal. It is surely a crucial condition for real intellectual progress, for we do not know all the answers to our questions. Even figuring out how best to formulate the questions can be a difficult task. The promotion of such freedom is a necessary feature of university life. This is as true of a Catholic institution as of any other. But to think of academic freedom as somehow more than a necessary condition for intellectual progress is to mistake the means for the end. Academic freedom cannot be rightly understood as a permission to advocate for policies that are intrinsically immoral or as an artistic license for the exhibition of what is obscene, for these are not part of the goal. Academic freedom, properly understood, is a sphere for genuine scholarly debate about the truth of things.
Robust and lax views of academic freedom
The effort to take a Catholic view on academic freedom is not to postulate that there is some distinct species of the genus (“Catholic academic freedom”). Quite the contrary—my suggestion is that a Catholic view on academic freedom provides a model of what academic freedom rightly understood ought to look like anywhere. We should not presume that what passes for academic freedom in the secular sphere is the true model, and that the Catholic view is some quaint, parochial version that unfairly permits special reservations or exclusions. A better understanding of academic freedom makes it possible to see how lax versions of it can obscure a proper understanding of the relation between truth and freedom.
In the academy today there is a tendency to envision academic freedom as utterly unrestricted and to criticize any position that might order freedom to the service of any other interest. But such a highly abstract view of academic freedom risks treating what is important as a condition for scholarly inquiry as if it were independent of higher goals such as academic instruction of students, or docility to inconvenient truths, or service to a particular community that a religiously affiliated university was founded to provide. Freedom in the academy, as anywhere else, ought to be understood in service of something higher. To put it very simply, freedom is not just a matter of freedom from but of freedom for.
The idea of a university
What is essential to the very idea of a university is an interlocking triad of functions: scientific and scholarly research, academic teaching, and a creative cultural life intended to be bear fruit for the larger society and for the body that sponsors the institution. The kind of intellectual formation that students may rightly expect to find at the university level will be more likely to occur when their instructors are personally engaged in research, so that what teachers impart is a personal sense of the quest and not just a set of pre-packaged results. The demands of teaching help keep researchers alert to the meaning of the indefatigable work their disciplines require. By teaching they are regularly challenged to relate their discoveries and frustrations to the whole of knowledge, for their students are studying other things and want to understand connections between the subjects under study, even if full achievement of the unity of all knowledge may remain out of reach.
What the faculty should hope to develop in university students is a love of the quest for truth as well as the skills and disciplines needed to join in that quest. The goal of university education is the development not only of the mind but of the whole person. There ought to be concern to make new discoveries, to impart what is knowable in a given discipline, and to contribute to the development of maturity in body and mind, heart and spirit. To treat academic freedom as if it were some privileged sphere for the expression of personal beliefs in a way that is unrelated to other—and sometimes higher—ends is to sacrifice certain essential concerns of the university to a mere abstraction.
As an institution within a culture, the university receives benefits that it could not obtain on its own. In turn it owes significant debts to that culture. The service that a university needs to render includes education of a new generation in useful disciplines and moral formation of persons with a sense of the common good, the discovery of approaches and solutions to genuine problems, and the transmission of wisdom, knowledge, and traditions important to the community. Seeing academic freedom in the context of these important relationships makes for a better sense of its true nature. From this expectation of mutual benefits come both the reason for the sacrifices needed to sustain universities and the need for those who are granted the freedom of a university to benefit the community precisely by contributing to all the missions of a university.
The relation of truth and freedom
One might well argue that the relationship of the university to the society is “dialectical,” like the very relationship between truth and freedom. Freedom is a condition for the possibility of truth, and truth is the goal of freedom. To assert that a relation is dialectical is to say that the terms stand in a kind of complementary relation to one another—here it is a relation between an enabling condition and the proper use of that condition. Grasping this dialectical relationship allows us to distinguish authentic forms of freedom from inauthentic forms. However much of a little world of its own the university tends to be, the university is not its own end, but an indispensable means for the progress of research and the transmission of knowledge and wisdom. Understood in light of the specific goals of any institution of higher learning, the freedom typical of university life can be seen to take authentic and inauthentic forms.
Negatively, academic freedom involves an absence of external compulsion. Granted the need to respect such practical concerns as the financial, universities need to resist utilitarian and ideological pressures, such as a quest to give intellectual respectability to positions that are not respectable or to provide sophisticated propaganda for partisan projects. Positively, academic freedom has to be a “freedom for truth,” that is, a condition suitable for enabling scientific and scholarly progress and for subjecting reasons and arguments to the most compelling scrutiny we can devise.
In more practical terms, a university marked by a true sense of academic freedom ought to be hostile to political correctness in any form. There should be a willingness to engage frankly and deeply even the positions with which a sponsoring institution most profoundly disagrees. Coming to an authentic understanding of the best reasons in the arsenal of one’s opponent is, after all, a hallmark of intellectual respectability and a better route for making sure of the validity of one’s own position than precluding the discussion of those points. On this point, Catholics have the testimony of none other than Pope Benedict XVI in his address of April 2008, when he urged that the idea of Catholic higher education is not only compatible with academic freedom in the genuine sense of the term but that ensuring appropriate instruction in Catholic doctrine and practice is crucial to advancing academic freedom and to honoring the institution’s mission:
In his address Pope Benedict reinforces the notion that Catholic-sponsored institutions would fail in their duty if they did not provide adequate instruction in the religious tradition that supports the school.168 While an overly abstract understanding of academic freedom is only likely to bring confusion, academic freedom in its proper sense gives precisely the venue needed for the search for truth, wherever the evidence may lead.
Personal commitments and the university’s mission
In practice, I believe that there needs to be toleration for those who do not share a sponsoring institution’s outlook, but on the understanding that the specific mission goals of such a university may never be sidelined; rather, it must be given accurate presentation in any academic forum.169 This position does mean that we ought to resist the demand that every possible outlook be represented at a university; unless a given point of view produces scholars of the first rank, it has no claim to the status expected of a university faculty. Some will urge that it is not permissible to investigate a prospective member of the university’s beliefs, but only the person’s professional attainment and intellectual standing. But this also seems excessively abstract. In the effort to enhance the quest for intellectual progress and the teaching mission of a university, there has to be concern not just with the learning typical of a recognized discipline but also with the sort of truths that are associated with a person’s philosophy, that is, the insights that are not accessible by the relatively impersonal sort of thinking that is typical of training in a discipline but also those that require personal commitment. These are important concerns about the meaning of human existence, about the natural law that is beyond all jurisprudence, and about the reality of God, however ineffable and mysterious, and they will enter into the life of those who live and work at a university.
University faculty like to think of themselves as independent-minded. In many respects they are, for their training has generated habits of disciplined analysis. But in addition to learning in any area there is often a curious blindness to how little one knows outside the area of one’s discipline. The penchant of any professor to be a know-it-all can easily lead to the temptation to use one’s post as a bully pulpit for what is no more than an opinion. In our own day, the liberal biases of many graduate and professional schools can dull the awareness that this temptation specially afflicts the chattering classes.
The responsibility to use freedom for pursuing and presenting the truth
In this regard there is an immediate and direct implication of the relation between freedom and responsibility. Members of a university faculty should truly have the freedom to pursue truth according to the methods germane to their disciplines and should be free from interference by those outside the discipline. But it is also important to remember that in their use of this freedom they ought to remain true to the methods of their discipline that qualify them for the privilege of this freedom and that presenting themselves as authorities beyond the areas of their expertise risks misusing that freedom.170
Of special interest to Catholic universities, of course, is the academic freedom of theologians and the proper use of this privilege.171 In this sphere there is need to bear in mind not only the standard considerations about methodology proper to any discipline, but also the specific grounding in the truth of divine revelation and the teachings of the Church for the areas of knowledge that are particularly the concern of theology. The teaching of Catholic theology in a Church-sponsored institution requires an acceptance of the truth of revelation and the teachings of the Church.
In addition to the moral responsibility that individual faculty members must shoulder in this area, there is also a responsibility on the administration of a Catholic university.172 Such a university must have a staunch commitment both to protect the proper freedom of theologians for their research and to insist that the members of the theology faculty present the teachings of the Church faithfully. The obligation here involves ensuring that the university honor its commitments to its sponsoring tradition and safeguarding the principle that one not exceed the areas of one’s professional expertise in teaching, particularly in areas of special sensitivity.
Consider, for example, the problems that can arise in courses on moral theology and ethics, an area where there can be strong personal convictions by faculty members but also an area where the Church has clear teachings. These courses might be courses in general ethics or one of the various specializations (medical ethics, business ethics, professional ethics, etc.). The need to have faculty members teaching within the area of their expertise will require that the university provide teachers suitably trained in Catholic moral theology and disposed to teach such courses in ethics in a way that is consistent with the university’s Catholic identity by being faithful to Catholic doctrine.
Faculty members who are not Catholic theologians or not willing to do this should identify themselves in such a way that will prevent confusion about this matter. Likewise, the obligation not to teach beyond one’s area of expertise should preclude faculty members in other departments who are not trained in ethics or moral theology from teaching or promoting varieties of ethics that are inconsistent with the university’s Catholic identity. To say this is in no way to put into doubt that such individuals may well have personal convictions on matters of ethics; in fact, it would be highly appropriate and advisable to organize suitable forums for the discussion of these matters in interdisciplinary circles. But it is not appropriate to have individuals who have never formally studied ethics offering courses identified as courses in ethics or moral values within the course offerings of their various disciplines. For instructors who have not themselves formally studied ethics or moral theology to be offering such courses would be cases of teaching outside the area of their professional expertise and thus to go beyond the privileges accorded to academic freedom properly understood.
Privilege, obligation, and right
When discussing academic freedom, we would do well to speak in terms of “privilege and “obligation.” Academic freedom is a privilege, not a right. The language of right should probably be reserved to “the pursuit of truth.” Individuals are privileged to come to a university for the purpose of seeking truth, both to participate in its discovery and to play a role in its dissemination. But the human right to pursue truth unconditionally and for its own sake is what governs the privilege and grounds the obligation of those exercising this right to make proper use of it. Getting this relationship right requires keeping sharp one’s intellectual conscience and exerting conscious and honest control over one’s creative impulses, especially by staying alert to the consequences, immediate and far-reaching, for one’s ideas.
There can be failures to observe these proprieties. One might consider, for instance, the sad history of the German universities in the period leading up to the Second World War.173 Despite the courageous resistance of some of its members, a university can collapse under the attack of a dictator. We need to acknowledge a special responsibility for such a collapse that lies at the feet of those university professors who care too little about the interaction between academic life and its social and political environment. The rationalizations and justifications used for the programs of forcible sterilization and the murder of the mentally ill seem to be recurring in our debates on abortion, embryonic stem-cell research, and euthanasia. The price of freedom is always vigilance and a readiness for sacrifice: in no walk of life may one take one’s post for granted and allow oneself not to see what one prefers not to see.
The dialectical tension between truth and freedom is one that academics sometimes do not like to hear about. Although a non-negotiable aspect of the life of a university, academic freedom is not an independent absolute but an absolute that stands in a dialectical relation to truth. Karl Jaspers put the point clearly when writing of those German universities:
Academic freedom does not refer to the political concept of freedom of speech, let alone to the liberty of pure license in thought, but to the liberty that is the condition for the possibility of truth. In turn, the truth toward which academic work is ordered as its goal justifies the freedom provided at a university and protected by our understanding of a university’s privileges. Academic freedom exempts a faculty member from certain kinds of external constraints so as to enable that person better to honor the obligations of a scholar to intellectual thoroughness, method, and system.
The correlative safeguards for the proper use of that freedom will presumably have to be moral rather than legal. This is often the case with other kinds of authority, for the highest administrators of legal justice are near the summit of law and generally have no higher authority watching over them. We depend upon justice being in the heart of the judge as much as upon the checks and balances of power that are so crucial to our system of government, and yet are ever subject to corruption. The frustrations of academic life (e.g., when one simply has no success in the lab, at the clinic, or in one’s research) point out clearly enough that freedom may be the condition for truth, but it is not a guarantee that one will automatically achieve truth merely by hard work or persistence.
In my judgment, the dialectical relation between truth and freedom constitutes a central aspect of academic freedom. That all of a university’s branches of learning work with hypotheses of only relative validity and do not describe the whole of reality itself but only particular aspects in no way alters or denies the goal of truth that belongs to the idea of the university. There remains a need for the guidance in our endeavors that the idea of the unity of knowledge provides. Only the goal of truth pursued in responsible freedom, guided by a sense of the oneness of reality, can sustain our search to know all the particulars as a way of getting at that basic oneness and wholeness. The result of a commitment to this idea will be not just the protection of academic freedom but the maturation of an increasingly authentic idea of freedom in the individual and the community of the university.
Rev. Joseph W. Koterski, S.J., Ph.D., S.T.L. is an associate professor of philosophy at Fordham University in New York and editor-in-chief of International Philosophical Quarterly. He also serves as president of the Fellowship of Catholic Scholars.
Communion and the Ecclesial Vocation of the Theologian in Catholic Higher Education175
Very Rev. J. Augustine DiNoia, O.P.
It should be admitted at the outset that the cozy juxtaposition of terms in my title, as much as they might reflect an ideal state of relations, do not fully correspond to the reality of the situation in which we find ourselves today in the United States of America.
For one thing, that the vocation of theologians is a properly ecclesial one has been and continues to be doubted, disputed, or denied. Even if it is conceded that the theological profession entails a calling of some kind, it is supposed that this would be primarily an academic or intellectual vocation, involving overriding allegiances, not to a church or denomination, but to one’s scholarly guild and the larger academic community. The code of free inquiry upheld by these communities is thought to exclude in principle the intrusion of non-scholarly considerations (such as creedal or dogmatic ones) and even more so the interference of representatives of non-academic communities (such as bishops or the Holy See) in the pursuit of the theologian’s specific intellectual vocation. In this perspective, if the possibility of an ecclesial vocation were to be granted at all, then it would presumably have to be defined and expressed in ways that did not contradict the supervening obligations of a strictly academic or intellectual vocation.
Furthermore, that the theologian has a place in higher education is a proposition that has not been self-evident at any time in the past hundred years, and that remains in doubt among Catholic and non-Catholic educators alike. The issue here concerns not theologians qua theologians but the field of theology itself. It may come as something of a surprise—especially to Catholics thinking of the historic importance of theological faculties in the great universities of western Europe—that theology found its place in American higher education only relatively late, with difficulty, and at a moment coinciding with the ascendancy of religious studies. With or without an ecclesial vocation, the theologian’s place in Catholic higher education at the present can hardly be said to be a secure one.
Finally, that institutions of higher learning could maintain recognizable—not to say institutional—bonds to the Catholic Church and still be true to their mission as modern research institutions has been and continues to be questioned by many, both within the Catholic Church and beyond it. Behind this doubt stretches a long history of which the period since the publication of Ex corde Ecclesiae is but the most recent phase. The view that church affiliation and academic integrity might be incompatible with one another has led many Catholic and Protestant institutions of higher learning over the past century to weaken or dissolve the affiliations that bound them to their founding ecclesial communities. The pressure to pursue this course has perhaps been felt more acutely by Catholic higher education because the polity of the Catholic Church, in contrast to that of most other churches and ecclesial communities, is perceived to allow for a more direct involvement in the life of the Catholic campus. In the years since Ex corde Ecclesiae, it has perhaps become clearer that the issue here is not just the maintenance of a Catholic identity but also participation in Catholic communion. Disagreements about how to track the relationships between the Catholic college or university and the Catholic Church influence perceptions of the theologian’s vocation, as well as judgments about his or her place in Catholic higher education.
It is clear then that, far from announcing the exposition of truths concerning which there is an undisturbed consensus in Catholic higher education in the United States, my title in effect introduces a set of disputed questions about which there are widespread and persistent doubts even within Catholic circles. In the form of powerful cultural assumptions, these doubts have influenced the actual shape of Catholic higher education in this country.
Catholic higher education and the ecclesiology of communion
The Church’s teaching authorities, while cognizant of these doubts, cannot be said to share them.
Consider higher education first. The Second Vatican Council reaffirmed the traditional Catholic view of the possibility and character of Church sponsorship of colleges and universities.176 Following upon and implementing the conciliar teaching were two companion documents: Sapientia Christiana,177 concerning the governance of ecclesiastically accredited institutions, and Ex corde Ecclesiae,178 concerning all other Catholic institutions of higher learning. These apostolic constitutions laid out the different ways that ecclesial communion is embodied by Catholic institutions of these diverse types. The publication of Sapientia Christiana initiated a period during which American ecclesiastical faculties brought their own statutes into line with the new legislation, while in 2000 the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops’ application of Ex corde Ecclesiae received official recognition by the Holy See.179 What is more, within postconciliar teaching, theology and education have been regularly addressed by Pope John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI in their many discourses and encyclicals.
The call to holiness and communion is central to understanding the confidence—one could as well say the absence of doubts—with which the Church advances her vision of Catholic higher education and the place of theology within it. The ecclesiology of communion is of fundamental importance in sustaining this confidence and in articulating this vision.
The gift of truth that we have received from Christ is this: to know that no one has ever wanted anything more than God wants to share the communion of His life with us. What Christ taught us and what we proclaim to the world is that the triune God invites all human persons to participate in the communion of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and with one another in them. Holiness is nothing less than the transformed capacity to enjoy this communion, and ecclesial communion is at root nothing less than trinitarian communion.
This basic truth of Catholic faith unfolds in an ensemble of other truths about creation, incarnation, redemption and sanctification. The central truths of the Christian faith find their deepest meaning in the reality of trinitarian communion. Everything created exists so that the Blessed Trinity could realize this plan of love. Through the incarnation and the paschal mystery, Christ enables creaturely persons to enter into the life of the uncreated Persons. In the Church, the Holy Spirit unites all those transformed in Christ and draws them into the communion of trinitarian love. Ecclesial communion is nothing less than the beginning of our participation in the life of the Blessed Trinity.
Pope John Paul II repeatedly described this communion as a “participated theonomy” which draws us into the communion of trinitarian love in such a way that our full humanity is fulfilled and at the same time transcended. This theme, frequently reiterated in the Holy Father’s great encyclicals, is fundamental for developing a properly Catholic understanding of the place of education and scholarship in human personal, social, and cultural life. In Christian faith, the human reality is not suppressed but is fully realized. To embrace the First Truth and the Absolute Good who is God is not to accept constraints on human reason and desire, but to free them for their divinely willed destiny.
The Church’s teaching and legislation regarding Catholic higher education are unintelligible apart from the ecclesiology of communion.
Autonomy and institutional bonds of Catholic higher education
It is clear that a wide range of teaching activities is required if the Church is to be able to communicate the gift of truth she has received from Christ.180 The institutional expression of these teaching activities has taken many different forms throughout Christian history. In the field of higher education the evidence for continuing and vigorous Catholic presence is indisputable. Far from experiencing any doubts about this possibility, the Church assumes as her rightful role the establishment of colleges and universities, and the maintenance of appropriate relations with them.
From a theological perspective, the genius of Catholic jurisprudence in this area arises from its underlying Christian humanism. As personal and social beings, the Christian faithful possess an inherent dignity and autonomy which must be respected if ecclesial communion is to be realized. The reality of communion presupposes the reality of persons in communion and, in an ordered community like the Catholic Church, the reality of institutions in communion. It would be self-contradictory to invoke the ecclesiology of communion as grounds for infringing upon the autonomy rightly enjoyed by persons and institutions, and thus juridically protected, in the Catholic Church. The very notion of being in communion presupposes the integrity and autonomy, if also the interdependence, of the participants in ecclesial communion. The concrete expression of a series of relationships by its very nature affirms the proper autonomy and distinctive competencies of the persons and institutions enjoying ecclesial communion.
Although the grace of ecclesial communion is in the deepest sense an invisible reality, it is not an abstraction. Catholic tradition insists that it must take visible form in concrete communities and in their social and institutional structures. In the aftermath of the Second Vatican Council, the Church has invited Catholic colleges and universities to internalize the renewed ecclesiology of communion in the structures of their institutions, and in different ways depending on whether they are ecclesiastically accredited or not.
The historical record in the United States supports the conclusion that, given the political and cultural pressures favoring increasing secularization over the past hundred years and into the foreseeable future, the Catholic identity of currently Catholic institutions of higher learning is not likely to be sustainable without concrete juridical bonds between these institutions and the Church. Naturally, in developing its teaching and legislation in this area, the Holy See does not have only the situation in the United States in view. But the practical implications of an ecclesiology of communion, formulated with the whole Catholic Church in view, nonetheless have particular urgency in a situation where “the disengagement of colleges and universities from their Christian churches” has become endemic.181 In his indispensable book on this topic, The Dying of the Light, Father James Burtchaell documented with considerable detail the informal arrangements by which hundreds of sincere and well-meaning faculty, administrators and church leaders of countless once church-related colleges and universities believed that they would be able to ensure the Lutheran, Presbyterian, Methodist, Anglican, and other denominational identities of their institutions.182 Without the adoption of juridical provisions, and relying solely on the good will and sense of commitment of Catholic educators and bishops—as was strongly suggested by some—few of the currently Catholic institutions of higher learning in the U.S. are likely to remain distinctively and recognizably Catholic. Even with the adoption of something like clearly stated juridical provisions of the USCCB Application, it may be that the secularizing trends will turn out to have been irreversible in some of the two hundred or more Catholic institutions of higher learning in the U.S.
Recent studies, including those by Father Burtchaell, Philip Gleason, John McGreevy, Philip Hamburger, and others, have made it possible to identify with greater precision the cultural and political forces operative in the relatively swift transformation that has occurred in Catholic higher education in the U.S. since the 1960s.183 Significant anti-Catholic cultural assumptions, which in part contributed to shaping public policy towards education, gave prevalence to the notion that church affiliation, most especially in the Catholic ambit, inevitably compromised the academic excellence, research capacity, and institutional autonomy of institutions enmeshed in such relationships. In addition, it was widely held that, because of their submissiveness to church authority, Catholics could never fully internalize the valued American traits of individual autonomy and freedom of thought and expression that would make for good citizens of the republic. In so far as they were not actively anti-religious, these forces favored the development of a broadly enlightened form of religiosity, free of ties to particular churches or denominations, and of the dogmatic and institutional commitments entailed by these ties. The impact of these cultural and political forces was aggravated after the Second Vatican Council, not only by the collapse of a distinctively Catholic culture, but also by the uncritical embrace of the secular culture (mistakenly thought to be warranted by the council’s constitution, Gaudium et spes).184 Catholic educators (and others) failed to recognize that the ambient culture, whose values they sought to embody institutionally, was not religiously neutral but often encoded with actively de-Christianizing assumptions.
The call to holiness and communion, reaffirmed by the Second Vatican Council and vigorously reasserted in the pontificate of Pope John Paul II, offers an opportunity for Catholic Church-related institutions of higher education in the U.S. to recover their distinctively Catholic identity and embody it in clearly expressed communal bonds with the Church. With a tradition of academic excellence and freedom of inquiry stretching back to the medieval universities, Catholic higher education should courageously address the range of anti-Catholic and, increasingly, anti-Christian prejudices that seek to exclude Catholics and other Christians from participation in public life and from influence on public policy. According to the Second Vatican Council, Catholic universities aim to ensure that the Christian outlook should acquire “a public, stable, and universal influence in the whole process of the promotion of higher culture.”185 As was true in the past, Catholic colleges and universities in the U.S. have an important contribution to make to the Christianization of American culture. George Lindbeck, the distinguished Lutheran theologian and astute observer of the Catholic scene, has written: “The waning of cultural Christianity may not be a good thing for societies. Traditionally Christian lands, when stripped of their historic faith, become unworkable and demonic…. Christianization of culture can be in some situations the church’s major contribution to feeding the poor, clothing the hungry and liberating the imprisoned.”186 Catholic institutions of higher learning can play a central role in helping the Church, as well as other Christian communities, to monitor the impact of mass culture on the communication of the faith and the expression of Catholic and Christian life in western postmodern societies.
The place of theology in Catholic higher education
In addition to articulating a comprehensive vision of Catholic higher education, both conciliar and post-conciliar teaching consistently assigned a central role to theology and its cognate disciplines in Catholic higher education. Following upon Gravissimum Educationis of the Second Vatican Council, the twin post-conciliar apostolic constitutions on higher education each assume that theology will find a place in the Catholic colleges and universities. As might be expected in a document that contains norms for ecclesiastical faculties and seminaries, Sapientia Christiana provides a complete picture of the curriculum of theology and its associated disciplines. But Ex corde Ecclesiae is no less explicit on the matter, even if it concedes that in certain situations nothing more than a chair of theology will be possible.187 Both documents affirm that the primary focus of theology is to investigate and explain the doctrines of the Catholic faith as drawn from revelation. It is assumed that this study will be pursued in a spirit of true freedom of inquiry, employing appropriate methods, and acknowledging the derived character of the knowledge sought and thus its dependence on divine revelation. Significantly, both documents ascribe important integrating functions to theology within the overall programs of Catholic colleges and universities, a traditional emphasis in the rationales for theology in almost all church-related higher education.
Studying these documents within the framework of Catholic history in western Europe, one might well expect the legitimacy of theology’s place in the curriculum of higher education to be self-evident. Indeed, as Cardinal Avery Dulles has noted, it is unrealistic not to include theology in the university curriculum since “the Church and the Catholic people legitimately expect that some universities will provide an intellectual environment in which the meaning and implications of the faith can be studied in relation to the whole realm of human knowledge.”188
Nonetheless, for a variety of reasons, which are lately being subjected to more systematic study, the study of religion and theology did not enjoy an unchallenged place in the evolution of church-related, and indeed public, higher education in the U.S. Two brilliant books—D. G. Hart’s on the history of Protestant rationales for the study of theology and religion and Philip Gleason’s on the history of Catholic higher education in the twentieth century—give the topic the attention it deserves and at the same time provide fascinating reading for anyone interested in understanding the current situation of the study and teaching of religion and theology in American higher education.189
Hart and Gleason show that in the United States throughout much of the nineteenth century, both Catholic and Protestant educators tended to view theology as a discipline that belonged in the seminary, not in the college or university. In church-affiliated Catholic and Protestant colleges, religious instruction was more likely to be seen as catechetical and moral formation than as properly theological inquiry. Later, with the emergence of the modern research university, Protestant educators struggled to legitimate teaching and research in the Christian religion while at the same time downplaying the particular denominational entailments such teaching and research might otherwise involve. Catholic higher education in early twentieth century America tended to give a central role to religiously colored philosophical studies rather than to theology itself. Between the 1920s and the 1950s, neoscholastic philosophy played an influential role in curricular integration in Catholic colleges and universities and in the provision of the self-understanding that gave Catholic culture its shape. During this period, theology properly so-called only gradually began to find a place in Catholic higher education, though kerygmatic, liturgical, and Thomistic approaches remained in contention as Catholic educators strove to identify the kind of teaching that would be appropriate for undergraduates. Inevitably, both Protestant and Catholic curricula were influenced by the teaching of theology as conducted in their seminaries. For different but related reasons, neither Protestant nor Catholic university theology enjoyed the undiluted respect of the broader academic community. With the erosion of the hold of neo-orthodoxy in Protestant theology and the collapse of the neoscholastic synthesis in Catholic higher education, the 1960s were a time of crisis for both Catholic and Protestant theological and religious educators. The 1960s set in motion powerful cultural and educational trends that eventuated in the widespread (albeit unstable) prevalence of religious studies in Catholic, Protestant, and public higher education.190
In Catholic higher education, the displacement of theology by religious studies poses significant challenges. Frank Schubert’s important study of this shift covers the crucial period 1955-1985 and demonstrates the steady move away from courses engaging in appropriation of the Catholic tradition toward courses in the history, anthropology, and sociology of religion.191 While admitting areas of overlap between theology and religious studies, most scholars acknowledge the fundamental difference in perspective represented by the approaches to religious realities in these diverse fields. Whereas theology takes the claim to truth made by the sources of Christian revelation as its framework, the field(s) of religious studies systematically bracket the claims to truth made for contending religious traditions. For theology, revelation provides the principles for inquiry, and the truth of Christian doctrines is the basic assumption for this inquiry. For religious studies, the world’s religions present a richly diverse set of texts, institutions, rites, and other phenomena, which are studied employing a range of humanistic and social scientific methodologies.
In Catholic colleges and universities where this shift is complete and likewise unchallenged, it is difficult for theology to maintain its integrity and finality as fides quaerens intellectum. Apart from any other secularizing pressures that might be operative, in the midst of predominantly religious studies departments, theology itself can easily yield to the methods and perspectives of the study of religion. As we shall see shortly, the transformation of theology into a branch of religious studies makes it nearly unintelligible to claim for theologians any properly ecclesial vocation or even connection with the believing community.
The ecclesial vocation of the theologian
What must be surely regarded as among the most significant official documents on the place of the theologian in the Church appeared in 1990. It was prepared by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith and was confidently entitled “The Ecclesial Vocation of the Theologian.”
Although the documents of the Second Vatican Council mentioned theology and theologians at various points—perhaps most notably in the Constitution on Divine Revelation (Dei Verbum),192 the Constitution on the Church (Lumen Gentium),193 and the Decree on Priestly Formation (Optatam Totius)194—the council did not make this theme the focus of an extended treatment.195 Given the impact that the council had on the work of theologians, this may come as something of a surprise—all the more so perhaps, since it was “the great blossoming of theology between the world wars which made the Second Vatican Council possible.”196 After the conclusion of the council the continuing contribution of theologians was institutionalized in a remarkable way when Pope Paul VI established the International Theological Commission in 1969.197
The CDF Instruction reflects the Church’s renewed consciousness of the centrality of the role of the theologian in her life. Reprising significant elements of the Catholic tradition, as articulated in conciliar and post-conciliar teaching, the Instruction forcefully argues that the theologian’s vocation is a properly ecclesial one and, as in the case of Catholic colleges and universities, that the bonds of ecclesial communion implied by this relationship can be expressed juridically. The CDF Instruction may be taken as a robust reminder that the call to holiness and communion comes to theologians at least in part through the mediation of their ecclesial vocation precisely as theologians.198
At the start of his splendid book, The Shape of Theology, Father Aidan Nichols asks the question: “What sort of person must I be in order to become a theologian?”—to which we might well add, “and in order to continue being one.”199 This, in effect, is the arresting question posed by the CDF document. In addressing this question, the Instruction takes up in turn the divine gift of truth, the vocation of the theologian, and the role of the Magisterium. Under its consideration of the role of the Magisterium, the Instruction gives extended attention to the problem of theological dissent.200
But what is particularly noteworthy is that the Instruction begins, not with the Magisterium, but with the gift of divine truth. Indeed, the Instruction’s Latin title is Donum Veritatis, “the gift of truth.” Because theology is not simply an “ancillary function” of the Magisterium, we need to locate the theologian and the work of theology in the broader context of the life of Church, precisely as she is the locus of a truth which she did not generate but which she received as a gift. At the center of this truth is the person of Jesus Christ who reveals the divine desire to draw us into the communion of trinitarian love and, moreover, who enables us to enjoy this communion. The function of the Magisterium is to guard and teach this truth in its entirety which the Church received as a gift and is bound to hand on. For this reason, according to Cardinal Ratzinger, the Instruction “treats the ecclesial mission of the theologian not in a duality of Magisterium-theology, but rather in the framework of a triangular relationship defined by the people of God, bearer of the sensus fidei, the Magisterium, and theology.”201 In different ways, therefore, both the Magisterium and theology are servants of a prior truth, received in the Church as a gift.202
Perhaps the most important contribution of the Instruction is to have secured in this way what Cardinal Ratzinger called the “ecclesial identity of theology”203 and, correspondingly, the ecclesial vocation of the theologian. In the words of the Instruction itself: “Among the vocations awakened… by the Spirit in the Church is that of the theologian… [whose] role is to pursue in a particular way an ever deeper understanding of the Word of God found in the inspired Scriptures and handed on by the living Tradition of the Church… [which he does] in communion with the Magisterium which has been charged with the responsibility of preserving the deposit of faith.”204 The theological vocation responds to the intrinsic dynamic of faith which “appeals to reason” and “beckons reason… to come to understand what it has believed.”205 In this way, “theological science responds to the invitation of truth as it seeks to understand the faith.”206 But the theological vocation also responds to the dynamic of love, for “in the act of faith, man knows God’s goodness and begins to love Him… [and] is ever desirous of a better knowledge of the beloved.”207
The gift of truth received in the Church thus establishes both the context for the vocation and mission of the theologian, and the framework for the actual practice of the discipline of theology. This ecclesially received truth, as articulated in the deposit of faith and handed on by the Magisterium, constitutes not an extrinsic authority that poses odious limits on an inquiry that would otherwise be free but an intrinsic source and measure that gives theology its identity and finality as an intellectual activity. Hence, as Cardinal Ratzinger asks, “Is theology for which the Church is no longer meaningful really a theology in the proper sense of the word?”208 Examined independently of the assent of faith and the mediation of the ecclesial community, the texts, institutions, rites, and beliefs of the Catholic Church can be the focus of the humanistic, philosophical, and social scientific inquiries that together constitute the field of religious studies. But Christian theology is a different kind of inquiry. Cut off from an embrace of the truth that provides its subject matter and indicates the methods appropriate to its study, theology as the Church has always understood it loses its specific character as a scientific inquiry of a certain type.209 Its precise scope is to seek the intelligibility of a truth received in faith by the theologian who is himself a member of the ecclesial community that is, as Cardinal Walter Kasper has said, “the place of truth.”210
The theologian is thus free to seek the truth within limits imposed, not by an intrusive external authority, but by the nature of his discipline as such. As the Instruction points out: “Freedom of research, which the academic community holds most precious, means an openness to accepting the truth that emerges at the end of an investigation in which no element has intruded that is foreign to the methodology corresponding to the object under study.”211 Theology cannot “deny its own foundations,” to use the words of Cardinal Dulles; the acceptance of the authority and Scripture and doctrines in theology is “not a limitation but rather the charter of its existence and freedom to be itself.”212 The freedom of inquiry proper to theology, is, according to the CDF Instruction, the “hallmark of a rational discipline whose object is given by Revelation, handed on and interpreted in the Church under the authority of the Magisterium, and received by faith. These givens have the force of principles. To eliminate them would mean to cease doing theology.”213 The principles of theology, as we noted earlier, are derived from revelation, and constitute the discipline as such. In accepting them, the theologian is simply being true to the nature of his subject, and to his vocation as a scholar in this field.
These elements of the Instruction’s account of the theological vocation are ferociously contested in today’s academy, largely on the basis of what Lindbeck has called the “individualistic foundational rationalism” which shapes the deepest cultural assumptions of modernity.214 But the Church has a solid, well-substantiated, and historically warranted rationale for its account of the nature of theology as an intellectual discipline of a particular sort, and of the responsibilities of its practitioners. In the present circumstances, we need to make this case without apology. It is central to the convictions of the Catholic Church, and indeed of the Christian tradition as such, to give priority to a theonomous rather than to an autonomous rationality. It so happens that certain postmodern intellectual trends have begun to advance what Alasdair MacIntyre calls the traditioned character of all rational inquiry215 and Lindbeck calls the socially and linguistically constituted character of belief. This intellectual climate is, to a certain extent, more favorable to the defense of the principle of theonomous rationality that is crucial for the Catholic understanding of theology. But it must be recognized that the basis for this understanding is itself a properly theological one that is rooted in fundamental Christian convictions about the gift of truth and its reception in the ecclesial community.216
The Church embodies her understanding of the nature of theology and of the ecclesial vocation of the theologian by, according to both the discipline and its practitioners, a role in Catholic higher education according to the principles of the ecclesiology of communion which we considered earlier.
According to Ex corde Ecclesiae and Sapientia Christiana, the standard theological disciplines include: sacred Scripture, dogmatic theology, moral theology, pastoral theology, canon law, liturgy, and church history. Those teaching these disciplines are invited to make a profession of faith and oath of fidelity in order to express the derived character of these disciplines and the ecclesial space they inhabit. These formulas in effect allow the scholar to express a promise to respect the principles of his or her field as well as the personal communion of the theologian with the Church. Viewed in this light, theological disciplines and their practitioners are in a situation analogous to other disciplines and to scholars in other fields which are supervised by professional societies, by peer review, and by a whole range of certifying and accrediting bodies who maintain the standards within these fields and the credibility which they rightly enjoy among the general public.
In addition, the Church offers a canonical mission to theologians teaching in ecclesiastical faculties, and a mandatum to those teaching in all other institutions of higher learning. Although both the canonical mission and the mandatum have provoked controversy, the necessity of the canonical mission is perhaps better understood within the context of ecclesiastically accredited faculties. Here, I will confine my remarks to the mandatum.217
The nature of the mandatum referred to in Ex corde Ecclesiae is best understood in the light of the Second Vatican Council’s decree on the laity: “Thus, making various dispositions of the apostolate according to the circumstances, the hierarchy enjoins some particular form of it more closely with its own apostolic function. Yet the proper nature and distinctiveness of each apostolate must be preserved, and the laity must not be deprived of the possibility of acting on their own accord. In various church documents this procedure of the hierarchy is call a mandate.”218 (Apostolicam Actuositatem 24). While the mandatum has a different juridical character from the canonical mission of professors teaching in ecclesiastical faculties as required by Sapientia Christiana, both express in a concrete way the ecclesial identity of the theologian. According to canonist Father Reginald Whitt, the above-mentioned mandate “refers to those apostolic activities that remain activities proper to the laity in virtue of their baptism yet joined closely to the apostolic ministry of the bishop.” A Catholic professor of theology in a Catholic university is thus considered “as one of the faithful engaged in the higher education apostolate entitled and required to obtain endorsement from the competent hierarch.”219
In requiring the mandatum (and, for that matter, the canonical mission) the Church acknowledges that the Catholic theologian pursues his or her inquiries under the light of revelation as contained in Scripture and tradition and proclaimed by the Magisterium. In seeking the mandatum, the individual theologian gives a concrete expression to the relationship of ecclesial communion that exists between the Church and the Catholic teacher of a theological discipline in a Catholic institution of higher learning. The acceptance of the mandatum does not make the pursuit and recognition of truth a matter of obedience to authority: as we have seen, it is not that the doctrines of the faith are true because the Magisterium teaches them, but that the Magisterium teaches them because they are true. It is the Catholic conviction that the
truths of faith point ultimately to nothing less than the First Truth itself, whose inner intelligibility constantly draws the inquiring mind to himself. The acceptance of the mandatum by a theologian is simply the public affirmation and social expression of this fundamental Catholic conviction.
Conclusion
We have considered the ecclesial vocation of the theologian in Catholic higher education and the ecclesiology of communion. We began with a series of doubts, but we end on a note of confidence. Surely, if the example of Pope Benedict XVI teaches us nothing else, it should teach us confidence in the inherent attractiveness of the Christian faith, and, in particular, the Catholic vision of higher education and of the vocation of the theologian. While the assumptions of the ambient culture will not always be friendly to it, this vision nonetheless deserves to be presented fully and without compromise. Indeed, because the call to holiness and communion originates not with us but with Christ, our hearers deserve from us a confident and unapologetic invitation to share a vision of human life that finds its consummation in the divine life of trinitarian communion. Nothing less will do.
Very Rev. J. Augustine DiNoia, O.P., Ph.D., S.T.M., is undersecretary of the Vatican Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. He was previously executive director of the Secretariat for Doctrine and Pastoral Practices at the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops and professor of theology on the Pontifical Faculty of the Dominican House of Studies in Washington, D.C.
Catholic Campus Ministry: Christocentric Accompaniment
Rev. Msgr. Stuart W. Swetland
It began with music. Fr. Karol Wojtyla, a 31-year old parish priest who later would be known the world over as Pope John Paul II, had recently been assigned as an assistant at St. Florian’s Parish in Krakow. His duties included the role of campus ministry to the many university students in the parish. But how was he to minister to these students in 1951 Stalinist Poland? He began with music.
By Polish tradition (following the pre-Vatican II calendar), February 2nd (the Feast of the Presentation) ends the Christmas season. It is the “last chance” to sing Christmas carols. On February 2, 1951, Fr. Wojtyla invited some university students to the parish to sing carols. He also began to teach them Gregorian Chant. Soon he had developed a regular student choir for the parish. But Fr. Wojtyla was teaching more than music. The choir practices afforded him the opportunity to begin a real relationship with those who participated in it. Soon these students would also be attending a special Wednesday morning Mass and a Thursday evening conference and inviting their friends. Wojtyla’s campus ministry had begun.220
During this incredibly fruitful time for Fr. Wojtyla’s ministry, he developed many of the ideas and themes that would serve him—and through his papacy, the Church and the world—so well in the future. These included his understanding of the relationship of philosophy and theology, his “theology of the body,” and the idea of young adult retreats that eventually became World Youth Days. However, underlying all of these developments was his basic pastoral approach to campus ministry. Fr. Wojtyla made the conscious decision to approach his pastoral assignment through what his biographer George Weigel calls “the ministry of accompaniment.” The young priest would “accompany” the university students placed in his charge as they journeyed from childhood into the world of adults.221
This basic pastoral stance is not without its dangers. Many older adults think the way to relate to the younger generation is to become like them. This runs the double danger of insincerity and foolishness. Fr. Wojtyla’s accompaniment was different. While he did truly share his life with the students, even vacationing with them so that he could further instruct and serve them, he never attempted to become like them. Rather, he modeled the life of a fully formed Christ-centered adult so well that he made his students want to be like him. Weigel records that one of his former students, Stanislaw Rybicki, understood this well when he stated: “Today, many priests try to be like the kids. We were trying to be like him.”222
What made Fr. Wojtyla’s accompaniment different was that he was not just “hanging out” with the students through some vague “ministry of presence.” Rather his accompaniment was grounded in a thorough, total embrace of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. His accompaniment was absolutely Christocentric. As one of his students wrote in a pseudonymously signed article in the underground press of the time, Wojtyla taught them “to look at all things in the spirit of the Gospel.”223
George Weigel’s massive biography had not been published when I began working in campus ministry in the early 1990s. However, enough of Pope John Paul II’s life and writings were published for me to glean the essence of his pastoral approach. I attempted to focus the entirety of the campus ministries that I had the privilege to serve on “Christocentric accompaniment”—to accompany the students as they made the journey to adulthood and help them focus on the person and teaching of Jesus Christ so that they may begin “to look at all things in the spirit of the Gospel.”
In post-war Communist Poland there were great pressures brought to bear upon the young adults to abandon the faith. If loyalty to the Church could not be eradicated from the young, the authorities at least wanted to isolate Church activities from the rest of society. In particular, they wanted the young to separate their faith from the rest of their lives. Weigel writes, “In Poland as elsewhere, communism deliberately fostered the fragmentation of society and the atomization of its members, the better to maintain political control and the easier to form ‘new socialist man.’”224
While the powers that be in the United States have no such official policy, the social and political forces of today have a similar effect on young (and not so young) adults. The affluence in our society tends towards atomization, and various societal pressures tend toward asking of us, either explicitly or implicitly, a separation of faith from life. Catholics and Catholic university campuses are not immune from the temptation to compartmentalize our lives. Faith and the commitment to Christ can be seen as something to be limited to the one or two theology courses that are required of most students. Often these courses, attempting to cover everything and present all theological viewpoints, leave the students even more bewildered and lacking any core understanding of the purpose and meaning of Christ and His Church. Fortunately, many universities (like Mount St. Mary’s where I currently serve) are recognizing this problem and attempting to address the need to integrate faith and life in every aspect of the curriculum and campus life. However, this can only be done if campus ministry is providing the necessary atmosphere and opportunity for students to integrate their lives through prayer, study, and the sacramental life of the Church.
To be authentically Christocentric, the priests, religious, and laity who serve in campus ministry must be people who “think with the mind of the Church” (sentire cum ecclesia). All too often people are drawn (or worse, get assigned) to campus ministry who are dissenters or who struggle with fidelity to the Church’s sacramental practices. Perhaps people believe that the best place for such ministers is on a college campus where new and creative ideas are all the rage. In fact, the last place that any such people should be is anywhere near campus ministry. College-age students are at an incredibly important and vulnerable time in their faith development. During the ages 18-25 (or perhaps better in our age 18-30), young people must make adult decisions about the faith moving from the inherited faith of childhood toward a “fully owned” adult faith commitment. Hopefully, they will discern their vocation during this period. In addition, they will more than likely form the most important adult relationships of their lives (including meeting and perhaps marrying their spouse). Partly because of our dismal record in catechizing the young, partly because of the nature of this vulnerable time of life, young adults need a “meat and potatoes” approach to campus ministry. They do not need dissent and disobedience.
When I first started campus ministry, I took the Oath of Fidelity required of new pastors. I did this publicly, in front of a congregation of many of my students including most of the student leaders. I told them that they deserved in justice from their campus ministers two things: (1) the teaching and preaching of the Gospel whole and entire in accordance with the authentic teaching of the Magisterium of the Church and (2) the joyful celebration of the sacraments of the Church in accordance with the Church’s liturgical rubrics and norms.
All campus ministers and ministries should provide the same. It is a basic starting point for effective ministry and models for the students a Christ-like fidelity and obedience. The students will have their faith challenged in plenty of settings and situations; they will hear dissent from many quarters. They do not need to experience it from their campus ministry. In addition, making it clear that the students can expect to hear what the Church teaches and to experience what the sacred liturgy is meant to be, creates a much-needed attitude of peace and serenity in campus ministry amidst what can often be the whirlwind of college life. For too long, generations of college students have had to endure the “fluffiest” of teaching (often at odds with the Magisterium) and the lunacy of the latest fads at Mass. Campus ministers of all types have unjustly imposed their own ideas of “innovation” onto an unsuspecting and unprepared college community. Clown masses, “liturgical dancing,” black lights and gimmicks of all sorts have been forced upon students. The students usually vote with their feet. They do not want, and certainly do not need, at this point of their lives, such novelties. They are looking for some stability, real answers, authentic prayer, and deep spirituality in campus ministry. The gospel provides the kind of answers for which they seek; the liturgy, celebrated as the Church intends it, provides the “living space” for them to come into authentic contact with the Living Lord. Justice demands of the Church’s ministers that we provide it.
Campus ministry must also be a “school of prayer.” Campus ministers need to have a profound prayer life of depth and substance. Of course, all are called to such prayer, but in particular campus ministers will need such a spiritual life because of the demands of their vocation. Long hours, stressful days, constant demands, an almost infinite need for their help and guidance from their students means that campus ministers must be well-grounded in the Lord or they will quickly “burn out” or self-destruct.
But in addition to their personal need for prayer, campus ministers must be a model of prayerfulness for their people. Mark Twain used to joke that politics is all about sincerity—if you can fake that, you’ve got it made! Well campus ministry is all about sincerity, and you cannot fake this sincerity. The young, especially the young of the Millennial Generation now in college, can spot a phony at one hundred paces. Many of them and/or their friends have been lied to and betrayed at every turn. They are skeptical of those in authority because they have let them down so often. They long, they search for people who are authentic—people who live what they proclaim.
Campus ministry (and each campus minister) must, as much as possible, radiate Jesus Christ in word and sacrament in everything that it does. This is what Pope John Paul II called for in Veritatis Splendor when he spoke of the sequela Christi—the following of Christ—in all things. This is the central teaching of one of the finest theologians of the last century, Hans Urs von Balthasar (made a Cardinal by John Paul II), when he wrote, “For this reason, lest everything in the Church become superficial and insipid, the true, undiminished program for the Church today must read; the greatest possible radiance in the world by virtue of the closest possible following of Christ.”225 By radiating Christ in all things, campus ministry will give witness to the beauty, truth, goodness, and unity possible in, with, and through Christ and His Church. It will allow the students to flourish in their journey to full adult membership in the Church.
Adult faith formation
During the college years, most people make an adult decision about their faith life. Studies have shown that if Catholics practice the faith during their college years, they will almost always remain an active member of the Church. Conversely, all too many of the fallen-away Catholics began their rebellion during their college years. This is why there must be many programs and opportunities on our campuses for adult faith formation. Bible studies, prayer groups, small group experiences, classes, reading groups, question and answer sessions, individual counseling and spiritual direction, Catholic societies, and professional groups are just some of the ministries that will be needed. Hopefully, campus ministry is supported by a vibrant academic community which is dedicated to helping students integrate faith and life. Of course, an excellent and faithful theology department is essential to this task. One very central moment in adult faith formation is the Sunday liturgy where the homily should be a model of solid, practical, enlightening proclamation of the beauty and grandeur of the gospel.
Vocational discernment
The idea of vocation should be an essential unifying theme for campus ministry. As a young campus minister, Fr. Wojtyla taught his students to view life vocationally. Weigel reports that “he once told Danuta Rybicka, whether one lived in a convent, in marriage, or as a single person in the world, ‘You have to live for a concrete purpose.’”226
Not only did Fr. Wojtyla counsel this in personal encounters, but as Supreme Pontiff he made this concept the focal point of his first letter to the youth of the world before the very first World Youth Day. In this letter he used the story of the Rich Young Man’s encounter with Jesus in the gospel (Mk 10:17-22, Mt 19:16-22, Lk 18:18-23):
This well-known story was used by John Paul II to illustrate some central teachings of the Second Vatican Council on vocation.
The story is filled with pathos. Obviously, the rich young man is drawn to Jesus. He sees something in him that touches him and makes him believe that perhaps Jesus can answer his questions. He is willing to abandon his social status by running after this poor homeless, rabbi and kneeling in front of him. He asks Jesus a great question, “What must I do to inherit everlasting life?” How like the young to have such wonderful questions!
Jesus tells him that he already knows the answer: keep the commandments. As John Paul II points out, what Jesus has said to the young man is that he is called, as we all are, to be holy—to be a saint. This is what the Second Vatican Council called “the universal call to holiness.” All are called to sanctity. Campus ministry must help instill in young people a genuine “hunger and thirst for righteousness” (Mt 5:6).
But the story does not end there. The young man has been trying to live the commandments, to live a holy life, but he knows there is something more. “What more must I do?” Jesus, looking at him with love, tells him he must sell everything, give it to the poor, and then come and follow him. This young man was called to be a radical disciple, like the apostles were, following Jesus wherever he went.
Not everyone is called to such a witness to Jesus. But this man was. This was this young man’s particular vocation, his unique calling. He refuses and thus “goes away sad.” Campus ministry must help students have an authentic encounter with the Lord. They should help and guide students as they struggle to live lives of holiness. They should provide the time and space convenient for student’s schedules to frequent the sacraments (especially mass and confession). Campus ministry should challenge students to ask what it is that God is calling them to do and be. Abiding joy comes from following Jesus by doing the will of the Father. Campus ministers should help students discern their particular call so that no one will “go away sad” because they missed or refused God’s invitation to greatness.
Forming adult friendships
The college years provide a wonderful opportunity to begin the most significant adult relationships in one’s life. Campus ministry should aid students by providing the type of atmosphere where healthy and holy friendships can be formed and deepened. Social events, support groups, peer ministry, retreats, service opportunities, etc. all provide the kind of place and space where Christ-centered friendship can flourish.
Some of these friendships might develop into dating relationships. Campus ministers should encourage young men and women to view dating as discernment. Numerous classes and discussions on the Church’s teaching on sex and sexuality ought to be offered. Peer ministry in these areas can be helpful as can presentations focusing on the theology of the body. In their heart of hearts, most young Catholics want to be chaste and to discover who, if anyone, they are called to marry. Campus ministers should strive to help create the kind of atmosphere where it is easy to be good and normal (even “cool”) to be chaste.
A healthy campus ministry will also be heavily involved with preparing couples to marry. In many ways, the college campus is a privileged place for such preparation. This will entail coordinating many people to aid in the preparation, not the least of which is several couples who are certified teachers of Natural Family Planning (NFP).
In all these aspects of campus ministry, the goal of the campus minister is to meet the students wherever they are at in their journey with Christ and to accompany them as they move closer to the Lord. Notice that Pope John Paul II started with music. The young wanted to sing popular Christmas carols. That is where he met them. But he did not leave them there. He took them deeper. He introduced them to Gregorian Chant. But what is more, he began from this music ministry to form, holistically, these young men and women into the Christian disciples they were called to be.
The minister often acts as a guide and companion along the way. Sometimes the minister is more akin to a parental figure; sometimes more an aunt or uncle; friend or sibling. But the goal is always a Christ-centered journey by a Christ-centered community.
John Paul II in the end of his “Letter to the Youth of the World” holds up Mary for our contemplation as a model of this type of young adult ministry. He writes,
Mary accompanies the Church as we travel to our heavenly Cana. She intercedes and protects, guides and acts as a model of faithfulness. May all of us entrusted with the apostolate of campus ministry imitate her as she imitated her Son and Our Lord.
Monsignor Stuart W. Swetland, S.T.D., is vice president for Catholic identity and holds the ArchBishop Harry J. Flynn Endowed Chair for Christian Ethics at Mount St. Mary’s University in Emmitsburg, Maryland. He served for more than a decade as director of Newman Centers at Bradley University and University of Illinois.
Appendix
Address to Catholic Educators at The Catholic University of America
His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI
April 17, 2008
Your Eminences,
Dear Brother Bishops,
Distinguished Professors, Teachers and Educators,
“How beautiful are the footsteps of those who bring good news” (Rom 10:15-17). With these words of Isaiah quoted by Saint Paul, I warmly greet each of you—bearers of wisdom—and through you the staff, students, and families of the many and varied institutions of learning that you represent. It is my great pleasure to meet you and to share with you some thoughts regarding the nature and identity of Catholic education today. I especially wish to thank Father David O’Connell, President and Rector of the Catholic University of America. Your kind words of welcome are much appreciated. Please extend my heartfelt gratitude to the entire community—faculty, staff, and students—of this University.
Education is integral to the mission of the Church to proclaim the Good News. First and foremost every Catholic educational institution is a place to encounter the living God who in Jesus Christ reveals his transforming love and truth (cf. Spe Salvi, 4). This relationship elicits a desire to grow in the knowledge and understanding of Christ and his teaching. In this way those who meet him are drawn by the very power of the Gospel to lead a new life characterized by all that is beautiful, good, and true; a life of Christian witness nurtured and strengthened within the community of our Lord’s disciples, the Church.
The dynamic between personal encounter, knowledge, and Christian witness is integral to the diakonia of truth which the Church exercises in the midst of humanity. God’s revelation offers every generation the opportunity to discover the ultimate truth about its own life and the goal of history. This task is never easy; it involves the entire Christian community and motivates each generation of Christian educators to ensure that the power of God’s truth permeates every dimension of the institutions they serve. In this way, Christ’s Good News is set to work, guiding both teacher and student towards the objective truth which, in transcending the particular and the subjective, points to the universal and absolute that enables us to proclaim with confidence the hope which does not disappoint (cf. Rom 5:5). Set against personal struggles, moral confusion, and fragmentation of knowledge, the noble goals of scholarship and education, founded on the unity of truth and in service of the person and the community, become an especially powerful instrument of hope.
Dear friends, the history of this nation includes many examples of the Church’s commitment in this regard. The Catholic community here has in fact made education one of its highest priorities. This undertaking has not come without great sacrifice. Towering figures, like Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton and other founders and foundresses, with great tenacity and foresight, laid the foundations of what is today a remarkable network of parochial schools contributing to the spiritual well-being of the Church and the nation. Some, like Saint Katharine Drexel, devoted their lives to educating those whom others had neglected—in her case, African Americans and Native Americans. Countless dedicated Religious Sisters, Brothers, and Priests together with selfless parents have, through Catholic schools, helped generations of immigrants to rise from poverty and take their place in mainstream society.
This sacrifice continues today. It is an outstanding apostolate of hope, seeking to address the material, intellectual, and spiritual needs of over three million children and students. It also provides a highly commendable opportunity for the entire Catholic community to contribute generously to the financial needs of our institutions. Their long-term sustainability must be assured. Indeed, everything possible must be done, in cooperation with the wider community, to ensure that they are accessible to people of all social and economic strata. No child should be denied his or her right to an education in faith, which in turn nurtures the soul of a nation.
Some today question the Church’s involvement in education, wondering whether her resources might be better placed elsewhere. Certainly in a nation such as this, the State provides ample opportunities for education and attracts committed and generous men and women to this honorable profession. It is timely, then, to reflect on what is particular to our Catholic institutions. How do they contribute to the good of society through the Church’s primary mission of evangelization?
All the Church’s activities stem from her awareness that she is the bearer of a message which has its origin in God himself: in his goodness and wisdom, God chose to reveal himself and to make known the hidden purpose of his will (cf. Eph 1:9; Dei Verbum, 2). God’s desire to make himself known, and the innate desire of all human beings to know the truth, provide the context for human inquiry into the meaning of life. This unique encounter is sustained within our Christian community: the one who seeks the truth becomes the one who lives by faith (cf. Fides et Ratio, 31). It can be described as a move from “I” to “we,” leading the individual to be numbered among God’s people.
This same dynamic of communal identity—to whom do I belong?—vivifies the ethos of our Catholic institutions. A university or school’s Catholic identity is not simply a question of the number of Catholic students. It is a question of conviction—do we really believe that only in the mystery of the Word made flesh does the mystery of man truly become clear (cf. Gaudium et Spes, 22)? Are we ready to commit our entire self—intellect and will, mind and heart—to God? Do we accept the truth Christ reveals? Is the faith tangible in our universities and schools? Is it given fervent expression liturgically, sacramentally, through prayer, acts of charity, a concern for justice, and respect for God’s creation? Only in this way do we really bear witness to the meaning of who we are and what we uphold.
From this perspective one can recognize that the contemporary “crisis of truth” is rooted in a “crisis of faith”. Only through faith can we freely give our assent to God’s testimony and acknowledge him as the transcendent guarantor of the truth he reveals. Again, we see why fostering personal intimacy with Jesus Christ and communal witness to his loving truth is indispensable in Catholic institutions of learning. Yet we all know, and observe with concern, the difficulty or reluctance many people have today in entrusting themselves to God. It is a complex phenomenon and one which I ponder continually. While we have sought diligently to engage the intellect of our young, perhaps we have neglected the will. Subsequently we observe, with distress, the notion of freedom being distorted. Freedom is not an opting out. It is an opting in—a participation in Being itself. Hence authentic freedom can never be attained by turning away from God. Such a choice would ultimately disregard the very truth we need in order to understand ourselves. A particular responsibility therefore for each of you, and your colleagues, is to evoke among the young the desire for the act of faith, encouraging them to commit themselves to the ecclesial life that follows from this belief. It is here that freedom reaches the certainty of truth. In choosing to live by that truth, we embrace the fullness of the life of faith which is given to us in the Church.
Clearly, then, Catholic identity is not dependent upon statistics. Neither can it be equated simply with orthodoxy of course content. It demands and inspires much more: namely that each and every aspect of your learning communities reverberates within the ecclesial life of faith. Only in faith can truth become incarnate and reason truly human, capable of directing the will along the path of freedom (cf. Spe Salvi, 23). In this way our institutions make a vital contribution to the mission of the Church and truly serve society. They become places in which God’s active presence in human affairs is recognized and in which every young person discovers the joy of entering into Christ’s “being for others” (cf. ibid., 28).
The Church’s primary mission of evangelization, in which educational institutions play a crucial role, is consonant with a nation’s fundamental aspiration to develop a society truly worthy of the human person’s dignity. At times, however, the value of the Church’s contribution to the public forum is questioned. It is important therefore to recall that the truths of faith and of reason never contradict one another (cf. First Vatican Ecumenical Council, Dogmatic Constitution on the Catholic Faith Dei Filius, IV: DS 3017; St. Augustine, Contra Academicos, III, 20, 43). The Church’s mission, in fact, involves her in humanity’s struggle to arrive at truth. In articulating revealed truth she serves all members of society by purifying reason, ensuring that it remains open to the consideration of ultimate truths. Drawing upon divine wisdom, she sheds light on the foundation of human morality and ethics, and reminds all groups in society that it is not praxis that creates truth but truth that should serve as the basis of praxis. Far from undermining the tolerance of legitimate diversity, such a contribution illuminates the very truth which makes consensus attainable, and helps to keep public debate rational, honest, and accountable. Similarly the Church never tires of upholding the essential moral categories of right and wrong, without which hope could only wither, giving way to cold pragmatic calculations of utility which render the person little more than a pawn on some ideological chess-board.
With regard to the educational forum, the diakonia of truth takes on a heightened significance in societies where secularist ideology drives a wedge between truth and faith. This division has led to a tendency to equate truth with knowledge and to adopt a positivistic mentality which, in rejecting metaphysics, denies the foundations of faith and rejects the need for a moral vision. Truth means more than knowledge: knowing the truth leads us to discover the good. Truth speaks to the individual in his or her entirety, inviting us to respond with our whole being. This optimistic vision is found in our Christian faith because such faith has been granted the vision of the Logos, God’s creative Reason, which in the Incarnation, is revealed as Goodness itself. Far from being just a communication of factual data—“informative”—the loving truth of the Gospel is creative and life-changing—“performative” (cf. Spe Salvi, 2). With confidence, Christian educators can liberate the young from the limits of positivism and awaken receptivity to the truth, to God and his goodness. In this way you will also help to form their conscience which, enriched by faith, opens a sure path to inner peace and to respect for others.
It comes as no surprise, then, that not just our own ecclesial communities but society in general has high expectations of Catholic educators. This places upon you a responsibility and offers an opportunity. More and more people—parents in particular—recognize the need for excellence in the human formation of their children. As Mater et Magistra, the Church shares their concern. When nothing beyond the individual is recognized as definitive, the ultimate criterion of judgment becomes the self and the satisfaction of the individual’s immediate wishes. The objectivity and perspective, which can only come through a recognition of the essential transcendent dimension of the human person, can be lost. Within such a relativistic horizon the goals of education are inevitably curtailed. Slowly, a lowering of standards occurs. We observe today a timidity in the face of the category of the good and an aimless pursuit of novelty parading as the realization of freedom. We witness an assumption that every experience is of equal worth and a reluctance to admit imperfection and mistakes. And particularly disturbing, is the reduction of the precious and delicate area of education in sexuality to management of “risk,” bereft of any reference to the beauty of conjugal love.
How might Christian educators respond? These harmful developments point to the particular urgency of what we might call “intellectual charity.” This aspect of charity calls the educator to recognize that the profound responsibility to lead the young to truth is nothing less than an act of love. Indeed, the dignity of education lies in fostering the true perfection and happiness of those to be educated. In practice “intellectual charity” upholds the essential unity of knowledge against the fragmentation which ensues when reason is detached from the pursuit of truth. It guides the young towards the deep satisfaction of exercising freedom in relation to truth, and it strives to articulate the relationship between faith and all aspects of family and civic life. Once their passion for the fullness and unity of truth has been awakened, young people will surely relish the discovery that the question of what they can know opens up the vast adventure of what they ought to do. Here they will experience “in what” and “in whom” it is possible to hope, and be inspired to contribute to society in a way that engenders hope in others.
Dear friends, I wish to conclude by focusing our attention specifically on the paramount importance of your own professionalism and witness within our Catholic universities and schools. First, let me thank you for your dedication and generosity. I know from my own days as a professor, and I have heard from your Bishops and officials of the Congregation for Catholic Education, that the reputation of Catholic institutes of learning in this country is largely due to yourselves and your predecessors. Your selfless contributions—from outstanding research to the dedication of those working in inner-city schools—serve both your country and the Church. For this I express my profound gratitude.
In regard to faculty members at Catholic colleges and universities, I wish to reaffirm the great value of academic freedom. In virtue of this freedom you are called to search for the truth wherever careful analysis of evidence leads you. Yet it is also the case that any appeal to the principle of academic freedom in order to justify positions that contradict the faith and the teaching of the Church would obstruct or even betray the university’s identity and mission; a mission at the heart of the Church’s munus docendi and not somehow autonomous or independent of it.
Teachers and administrators, whether in universities or schools, have the duty and privilege to ensure that students receive instruction in Catholic doctrine and practice. This requires that public witness to the way of Christ, as found in the Gospel and upheld by the Church’s Magisterium, shapes all aspects of an institution’s life, both inside and outside the classroom. Divergence from this vision weakens Catholic identity and, far from advancing freedom, inevitably leads to confusion, whether moral, intellectual, or spiritual.
I wish also to express a particular word of encouragement to both lay and Religious teachers of catechesis who strive to ensure that young people become daily more appreciative of the gift of faith. Religious education is a challenging apostolate, yet there are many signs of a desire among young people to learn about the faith and practice it with vigor. If this awakening is to grow, teachers require a clear and precise understanding of the specific nature and role of Catholic education. They must also be ready to lead the commitment made by the entire school community to assist our young people, and their families, to experience the harmony between faith, life, and culture.
Here I wish to make a special appeal to Religious Brothers, Sisters, and Priests: do not abandon the school apostolate; indeed, renew your commitment to schools especially those in poorer areas. In places where there are many hollow promises which lure young people away from the path of truth and genuine freedom, the consecrated person’s witness to the evangelical counsels is an irreplaceable gift. I encourage the Religious present to bring renewed enthusiasm to the promotion of vocations. Know that your witness to the ideal of consecration and mission among the young is a source of great inspiration in faith for them and their families.
To all of you I say: bear witness to hope. Nourish your witness with prayer. Account for the hope that characterizes your lives (cf. 1 Pet 3:15) by living the truth which you propose to your students. Help them to know and love the One you have encountered, whose truth and goodness you have experienced with joy. With Saint Augustine, let us say: “we who speak and you who listen acknowledge ourselves as fellow disciples of a single teacher” (Sermons, 23:2). With these sentiments of communion, I gladly impart to you, your colleagues and students, and to your families, my Apostolic Blessing.
Newman on Education
/in Mission and Governance Commentary, St. John Henry Newman/by Father Ian KerIn 1863, sixty-two-year-old John Henry Newman wrote, “from first to last, education … has been my line.” His career at Oxford had begun with his election in 1822 to a fellowship at Oriel College, “at that time the object of ambition of all rising men in Oxford.” After that he “never wished any thing better or higher than … ‘to live and die a fellow of Oriel.’”[1] In fact, the Oxford or Tractarian Movement might never have begun but for Newman’s dispute with the Provost of Oriel over the role of a college tutor, Newman wanting, as a pioneer of the Oxford tutorial system that was to develop later, a more direct, personal teaching relationship with undergraduates. As a result of being deprived of his tutorship, his teaching career at Oxford—in which his “heart was wrapped up”—came to an end, and he turned to research into the Church Fathers and the history of the early Church. After becoming a Catholic, he was opposed to the restoration of the English hierarchy on the ground that “we want seminaries far more than sees. We want education.”[2]
So when the chance came of helping to found the Catholic University of Ireland in Dublin, he jumped at it, since he had “from the very first month of my Catholic existence … wished for a Catholic University.” Later, he was naturally attracted by the idea of founding the Oratory School in Birmingham; as an educational work, it fell “under those objects, to which I have especially given my time and thought.” And as an old man of sixty-three, he so enjoyed filling in for an absent teacher that he declared that, “if I could believe it to be God’s will, [I] would turn away my thoughts from ever writing any thing, and should see, in the superintendence of these boys, the nearest return to my Oxford life.” He was proud to claim that the school had “led the way in a system of educational improvement on a large scale through the Catholic community.”[3]
Liberal Education
Newman’s The Idea of a University (1873) is, like most of his books, an “occasional” work. It is certainly not a systematic treatise. Indeed, it consists of two books: Discourses on the Scope and Nature of University Education (1852), a book which is often confused with The Idea of a University and which comprises the lectures Newman was asked to deliver as a prelude to launching the Catholic University of Ireland; and Lectures and Essays on University Subjects (1859), a collection of lectures and articles that Newman wrote as the founding president of the university. These Lectures and Essays are more practical and less theoretical than the Discourses which they usefully supplement.
The Idea of a University is still the one classic work on university education. And it is famous for its advocacy of a “liberal education” as the principal purpose of a university. However, the nature of what Newman meant by a liberal education has often been misunderstood. What he calls “special Philosophy” or “Liberal or Philosophical Knowledge” he sees as “the end of University Education,” which he defines as “a comprehensive view of truth in all its branches, of the relations of science to science, of their mutual bearings, and their respective values.” This can be very misleading to a modern reader who may suppose that what Newman means is that the heart of the curriculum will be courses in philosophy or, alternatively, some rather mysterious “special” kind of philosophy. But in reality Newman’s “philosophy of an imperial intellect,” as he rather grandiloquently terms it in the second half of The Idea, is not some super-philosophy but simply what he calls in the Preface to the Discourses that “real cultivation of mind” which he defines as “the intellect … properly trained and formed to have a connected view or grasp of things.”[4] This is shown by his definition of this “special Philosophy”: “In default of a recognized term, I have called the perfection or virtue of the intellect by the name of philosophy, philosophical knowledge, enlargement of mind, or illumination.” By this he does not mean the academic subject we now call philosophy, but “Knowledge … when it is acted upon, informed … impregnated by Reason,” in other words knowledge which “grasps what it perceives through the senses … which takes a view of things; which sees more than the senses convey; which reasons upon what it sees, and while it sees; which invests it with an idea.” And Newman implicitly acknowledges a rhetorical exaggeration when he remarks, “to have mapped out the Universe is the boast, or at least the ambition, of Philosophy.”[5] The fact is that at the heart of his philosophy of education is simply the capacity to think.
Another misunderstanding of Newman’s idea of a liberal education is that he was advocating the study of the liberal arts for the usual kind of reasons. But it is striking that in his several discussions of literature, for example, in The Idea he does not at all stress its cultural value. It is true that he acknowledges that literature is the “history” of man, “his Life and Remains,” “the manifestation of human nature in human language.” And he also points out that if “the power of speech is a gift as great as any that can be named … it will not answer to make light of Literature or to neglect its study.” But there is no attempt to argue for the cultural value of studying literature, or even that a knowledge of literature is an essential part of education. What he does argue in his lecture “Christianity and Letters” in the second half of The Idea is that traditionally “the Classics, and the subjects of thought and the studies to which they give rise, or … the Arts, have ever, on the whole, been the instruments of education.”
This could be very misleading for a modern reader who will understand by the Classics the languages and literature of ancient Greece and Rome. But, in fact, Newman is thinking of the seven liberal arts of the medieval university, which, as he explains in the same lecture, comprised grammar, rhetoric, logic and mathematics, which was subdivided into geometry, arithmetic, astronomy and music. Grammar certainly involved literature, the literature of Greece and Rome, but this education in the arts was hardly what we would mean by an education either in the arts or the Classics.
Consequently, when Newman says that these liberal arts were able in the Middle Ages to withstand the challenge of the new subjects of theology, law and medicine, because they were “acknowledged, as before, to be the best instruments of mental cultivation, and the best guarantees for intellectual progress”—is certainly not talking only of about linguistic and literary studies. And when later in the lecture he declares that the “simple question to be considered is, how best to strengthen, refine, and enrich the intellectual powers,” but then goes on to say that the “the perusal of the poets, historians, and philosophers of Greece and Rome will accomplish this purpose, as long experience has shown”—he is including the study of Greek mathematics.[6]
Newman himself studied both classics and mathematics at Oxford, and among the set texts for the latter were both Euclid and Newton, as well as modern mathematicians.[7] It was quite common then to study both subjects at Oxford, and this combination represented for Newman a continuation of the medieval liberal arts. At the Catholic University of Ireland all students were required to follow a course of liberal studies that included Latin, mathematics and even science. But since the students were only aged sixteen on entry to the university and this course of liberal arts only lasted for two years, these were in effect the last two years of the secondary education that was presumably not easily available to Catholics in Ireland at the time. Thereafter, it should be noted in view of the common assumption that Newman was only interested in providing a liberal education at the university, that students could proceed immediately to a professional degree such as medicine, although of course they could also proceed to what we could call an arts degree—but even then both mathematics and theology were included in this “Liberal Education.”[8] It is clear that at Newman’s university the medieval concept of the liberal arts was modified by the inclusion of both science and theology.
Newman seems in The Idea of a University to equivocate somewhat over both science and theology. On the one hand, he supported in theory the traditional view that the medieval liberal arts were the staple of a liberal education. On the other hand, his actual practice was more flexible. In his lecture “Christianity and Letters,” he considers the contemporary threat from the rise of modern science to the traditional liberal arts, wondering whether it can educate the mind as well, since “it is proved to us as yet by no experience whatever.” For “the question is not what department of study contains the more wonderful facts, or promises the more brilliant discoveries, and which is in the higher and which in an inferior rank; but simply which out of all provides the most robust and invigorating discipline for the unformed mind.”[9] The reference to the “rank” of a department of study is clearly a reference to theology, which for Newman is the most important branch of study from the point of view of knowledge, but not of education.
Educationally, he is as cautious about theology as he is about science. It seems that he is not maintaining that science and theology are necessarily unfit to be part of a liberal education, but only that they are not part of the essential, core subjects, that is, the traditional liberal arts. Certainly, in the Discourses he allows that the study of theology may form part of a liberal education provided it rises above the level of knowledge in the sense of mere information needed for preaching or catechesis. Again, in the last of the Discourses, after speaking of the faculty of science, he turns to the faculty of letters, which, he says, constitutes “the other main constituent portion of the subject-matter of Liberal Education.”[10] It looks as if Newman was simply accepting what had come to pass in universities and recognized that the study of science was a perfectly respectable intellectual pursuit. And that after all was all he was concerned about: the “mental cultivation” which results from a proper intellectual “discipline.” For whatever the cultural value inherent in studying certain arts subjects may be, that is not Newman’s primary concern: it is not “culture” in the modern sense of the word that he is concerned with, but rather “mental cultivation” in the sense of the education or training of the mind.
It is not, then, a knowledge and appreciation of the arts that constitutes for Newman the end of a liberal education, desirable, of course, as he would have deemed that to be. But rather, as he states quite unequivocally in the Preface to the Discourses, it is that “real cultivation of mind” which enables a person “to have a connected view or grasp of things” and which manifests itself in “good sense, sobriety of thought, reasonableness, candour, self-command, and steadiness of view.” It is “the force, the steadiness, the comprehensiveness and the versatility of intellect, the command over our own powers, the instinctive just estimate of things as they pass before us” that is the object of a liberal education. And this liberal education has a distinctively useful function for it gives its recipient the “faculty of entering with comparative ease into any subject of thought, and of taking up with aptitude any science or profession.” Far from Newman’s “science of sciences” or “Philosophy” being a special subject of study, a kind of super-general science which embraces all the other branches of knowledge, it is not a subject you can study at all, but rather it is by learning to think properly that one is “gradually initiated into the largest and truest philosophical views.” The more the mind is formed and trained, the more “philosophical” in Newman’s sense it becomes.[11]
Because Newman thinks that “Liberal Education … is simply the cultivation of the intellect … and its object is nothing more or less than intellectual excellence,” he regrets the fact that there is no recognized English word to express the idea of intellectual cultivation or the cultivated intellect:
It were well if the English, like the Greek language, possessed some definite word to express, simply and generally, intellectual proficiency or perfection, such as “health,” as used with reference to the animal frame, and “virtue,” with reference to our moral nature. I am not able to find such a term;—talent, ability, genius, belong distinctly to the raw material, which is the subject-matter, not to that excellence which is the result of exercise and training. When we turn, indeed, to the particular kinds of intellectual perfection, words are forthcoming for our purpose, as, for instance, judgment, taste, and skill; yet even these belong, for the most part, to powers or habits bearing upon practice or upon art, and not to any perfect condition of the intellect, considered in itself. Wisdom, again, is certainly a more comprehensive word than any other, but it has a direct relation to conduct, and to human life. Knowledge, indeed, and Science express purely intellectual ideas, but still not a state or quality of the intellect; for knowledge, in its ordinary sense, is but one of its circumstances, denoting a possession or a habit; and science has been appropriated to the subject-matter of the intellect, instead of belonging in English, as it ought to do, to the intellect itself.[12]
Now surprise has been expressed that “Newman does not meet the want of ‘some definite word’ with the word ‘culture.’ Elsewhere, he in fact made the essential connexion with ‘culture.’”[13] In the passage referred to, Newman does indeed speak of “intellectual culture,” but it is synonymous with what he calls “the culture of the intellect,” whereby the intellect is “exercised in order to its perfect state.” Certainly Matthew Arnold, from whom the word culture in its modern sense derives, did not define culture as a state of “intellectual perfection,” but rather as “a pursuit of our total perfection.” The word culture for Arnold not only meant a “pursuit” rather than a “state,” but its connotations are not even primarily, let alone exclusively, intellectual: “culture being a pursuit of our total perfection by means of getting to know … the best which has been thought and said in the world.”[14] This no doubt is what is generally meant by a liberal education, but it is not what Newman meant: for him “intellectual culture” did not mean reading “great books,” but learning how to think. Newman ‘s failure, then, to use the word culture was not an oversight on his part because the word did not signify what he had in mind, which he was forced to describe thus: “In default of a recognized term, I have called the perfection or virtue of the intellect by the name of philosophy, philosophical knowledge, enlargement of mind, or illumination …”[15]
The training of the mind for Newman does not consist either in studying logic (though it may include that) or in the study of “how to think”: one learns to think not by learning a science of thinking but by thinking about the ordinary objects of knowledge. This is why, Newman says, “philosophy presupposes knowledge” and “requires a great deal of reading,” for knowledge “is the indispensable condition of expansion of mind, and the instrument of attaining to it.” But the knowledge is strictly distinguished from the philosophy: merely to know is not to be educated. He writes:
The enlargement consists, not merely in the passive reception into the mind of a number of ideas hitherto unknown to it, but in the mind’s energetic and simultaneous action upon and towards and among those new ideas, which are rushing in upon it….There is no enlargement, unless there be a comparison of ideas one with another, as they come before the mind, and a systematizing of them.…It is not the mere addition to our knowledge that is the illumination; but the locomotion, the movement onwards, of that mental centre, to which both what we know, and what we are learning, the accumulating mass of our acquirements, gravitates.[16]
This enlargement of mind reaches its highest point in “a truly great intellect,” which “possesses the knowledge, not only of things, but also of their mutual and true relations.” As Newman notes:
That only is true enlargement of mind which is the power of viewing many things at once as one whole, of referring them severally to their true place in the universal system, of understanding their respective values, and determining their mutual dependence. … Possessed of this real illumination, the mind never views any part of the extended subject-matter of Knowledge without recollecting that it is but a part, or without the associations which spring from this recollection. It makes every thing in some sort lead to every thing else; it would communicate the image of the whole to every separate portion, till that whole becomes in imagination like a spirit, every where pervading and penetrating its component parts, and giving them one definite meaning.
Newman’s “Philosopher” is not a “genius,” originating “vast ideas or dazzling projects.” For “genius … is the exhibition of a natural gift, which no culture can teach, at which no Institution can aim.” On the other hand, the “perfection of the intellect,” which is the aim of a liberal education, “is the clear, calm, accurate vision and comprehension of all things, as far as the finite mind can embrace them, each in its place, and with its own characteristics upon it.” The mind of a genius is “possessed with some one object,” takes “exaggerated views of its own importance,” is “feverish in the pursuit of it,” and makes “it the measure of things which are utterly foreign to it.” By contract, the liberally educated mind, “which has been disciplined to the perfection of its powers, which knows, and thinks while it knows, which has learned to leaven the dense mass of facts and events with the elastic force of reason, such an intellect cannot be partial, cannot be exclusive, cannot be impetuous, cannot be at a loss, cannot but be patient, collected, and majestically calm …”[17]
Newman is emphatic that acquisition of knowledge is not the same as education. To “improve the intellect, first of all, we must ascend; we cannot gain real knowledge on a level; we must generalize, we must reduce to method, we must have a grasp of principles, and group and shape our acquisitions by means of them.” Memory can be “over-stimulated,” so that “reason acts almost as feebly and madly as in the madman,” when the mind is “the prey … of barren facts, of random intrusions from without.” The “practical error, he complains, of modern education is, “not to load the memory of the student with a mass of undigested knowledge, but to force upon him so much that he has rejected it all. It has been the error of distracting and enfeebling the mind by an unmeaning profusion of subjects; of implying that a smattering in a dozen branches of study is not shallowness, which it really is, but enlargement, which it is not …”
And Newman makes it clear that he prefers specialization to a general course of studies if there has to be a choice between a “thorough knowledge of one science” and “a superficial acquaintance with many,” for “a smattering of a hundred things” does not lead to a “philosophical or comprehensive view” (any more than does mere “memory for detail”). Long before the arrival of the internet, Newman is very aware of the dangers of modern technology that makes information available on a scale unknown before: “What the steam engine does with matter, the printing press is to do with mind; it is to act mechanically, and the population is to be passively, almost unconsciously enlightened, by the mere multiplication and dissemination of volumes.” The opposite of the mechanical is the “individual” element—“the power of initiation”—that Newman regards as essential to education. For one can only become educated by actively using one’s own mind oneself as opposed to passively absorbing information: “Learning is to be without exertion, without attention, without toil; without grounding, without advance, without finishing.” It is not that Newman is opposed to the spread of popular education through “the cheap publication of scientific and literary works, which is now in vogue,” and as for that “superficial” general knowledge “which periodical literature and occasional lectures and scientific institutions diffuse through the community,” he accepts that it is even “a necessary accomplishment, in the case of educated men.” What he does not accept is that such a proliferation of information actually educates people: “accomplishments are not education” for they do not “form or cultivate the intellect.”[18]
By the training of the mind to think, Newman is not only referring to the ability to think clearly and logically. A liberal education for him means the education of the whole mind. What he calls the “cultivation of the intellect” or the “scientific formation of mind” is certainly intended to result in the ability to “grasp things as they are” and the “power of discriminating between truth and falsehood”; but it also includes the capacity “of arranging things according to their real value.” It is not only a matter of “clearsightedness,” since the “sagacity” or “wisdom” which the educated person is meant to possess involves too “an acquired faculty of judgment.”
In other words, the power of evaluating and making normative judgments is also a part of the educational process. Far from the mind only consisting in the logical faculty, Newman warns that just “as some member or organ of the body may be inordinately used and developed, so may memory, or imagination, or the reasoning faculty.” And “this,” he insists, “is not intellectual culture.” But rather, “as the body may be tended, cherished, and exercised with a simple view to its general health, so may the intellect also be generally exercised in order to its perfect state; and this is its cultivation.” The ideal recipient of this holistic liberal education knows “where he and his science stand” because “he has come to it, as it were, from a height, he has taken a survey of all knowledge … and he treats his own in consequence with a philosophy and a resource, which belongs not to the study itself, but to his liberal education.” But clarity and judgment are not the only fruits of a liberal education, which “gives a man a clear conscious view of his own opinions and judgments, a truth in developing them, an eloquence in expressing them, and a force in urging them.” Articulate expression and imagination, for example, are also fostered by a liberal education.[19]
The University
Newman does not see the teachers as alone responsible for the liberal education of students. On the contrary, he sees the students themselves as part of the teaching process. This is why the residential side of a college or university is so important to him. And to make his point in an extreme way he contrasts the new London University which “dispensed with residence and tutorial superintendence,” giving “its degrees to any person who passed an examination,” with the Oxford of the eighteenth century which is said to have “merely brought a number of young men together for three or four years, and then sent them away.” And he says flatly, “if I were asked which of these two methods were the better discipline of the intellect … if I must determine which of the two courses was the more successful in training, moulding, enlarging the mind … I have no hesitation in giving the preference to that University which did nothing, over that which exacted of its members an acquaintance with every science under the sun.”
Of course, part of Newman’s preference lies in the fact that London University did not profess to offer a coherent liberal education and also lacked the tutorial system with its close contact between teachers and taught; but in addition a non-residential university does not provide the kind of intellectual community that Newman deemed necessary for a truly liberal education: “When a multitude of young men … come together and freely mix with each other, they are sure to learn from one another, even if there be no one to teach them; the conversation of all is a series of lectures to each, and they gain for themselves new ideas and views, fresh matter of thought, and distinct principles for judging and acting …” Such a teacher-less university, Newman dares to maintain, is preferable to a non-residential university that offers no liberal education or the personal contact between students and teachers:
Here then is a real teaching … it at least tends towards cultivation of the intellect; it at least recognizes that knowledge is something more than a sort of passive reception of scraps and details; it is a something, and it does a something, which never will issue from the most strenuous efforts of a set of teachers, with no mutual sympathies and no intercommunion, of a set of examiners with no opinions which they dare profess, and with no common principles, who are teaching or questioning a set of youths who do not know them, and do not know each other, on a large number of subjects, different in kind, and connected by no wide philosophy …
A university or college where there is a “youthful community,” even if there is no proper teaching, gives birth to “a living teaching” or “tradition.” And such a “self-education” offers to the students “more philosophy, more true enlargement” than the impersonal lectures of a non-residential university offer students “forced to load their minds with a score of subjects against an examination, who have too much on their hands to indulge themselves in thinking or investigation, who devour premiss and conclusion together with indiscriminate greediness, who hold whole sciences on faith …” It would be better for an “independent mind … to range through a library at random, taking down books as they meet him, and pursuing the trains of thought which his mother wit suggests!” Even such private studies would provide a “more genuine” education.[20]
Naturally, Newman did not think that such a university was the ideal one. On the contrary, as he states at the beginning of the Preface to the Discourses, “a University … is a place of teaching universal knowledge,” its “object” being “the diffusion and extension of knowledge rather than the advancement”: “If its object were scientific and philosophical discovery, I do not see why a University should have students.”[21] Now if Newman were a systematic kind of writer and The Idea of a University a systematic treatise on education, he would at this point have made the qualification that he goes on to make with regard to the other possible object of a university which he wishes to counter. But because Newman is not writing in the abstract but in the context of a very concrete and controversial situation he musters all the resources of his rhetoric. For the fact of the matter is that Newman’s opening insistence that a university is necessarily an institution for teaching is a rhetorical device to introduce the crucial point he really wants to make in the heavily clerical context of Catholic Dublin and Ireland.
For the burning issue was not about teaching versus research, but about whether the Irish bishops really wanted a university at all, or whether as many lay Catholics (for whom the University was intended and who were being asked to pay for it) suspected, the hierarchy in fact had in mind a kind of glorified seminary where Catholics could be shielded from the malign influences of both Protestant Trinity College, Dublin, and the newly founded secular Queen’s Colleges. Archbishop Cullen of Dublin had asked Newman to justify a Catholic university and the teaching of Catholic theology; for his part Newman was determined to make it crystal clear that it was a university he was founding, a university like those non-Catholic universities that Catholics were to be protected from.
And so, although he italicizes both “teaching” and “knowledge” in his opening proposition, it is really the latter that he wants to emphasise, which is perhaps why the next sentence explaining his thesis reverses the order of the preceding sentence by stressing not “teaching” but “knowledge”: “This implies that its object is, on the one hand, intellectual, not moral; and, on the other hand, that it is the diffusion and extension of knowledge rather than the advancement.” True, the succeeding and final sentence of the paragraph returns to the original order: “If its object were scientific and philosophical discovery, I do not see why a University should have students; if religious training, I do not see how it can be the seat of literature and science.”
But the fact is that nobody in Ireland or England was suggesting that universities should be research rather than teaching institutions, nor did Newman foresee that what he intended as a merely “academic” point, to balance the real point he wanted to make, would much later become a source of reproach. For if there is one thing that educationists think they know about Newman’s Idea of a University, it is that the book is hostile to research. In fact, a few pages later in the Preface Newman, while again insisting that the “great object” of a university must be education, adds, however, “and not simply to protect the interests and advance the dominion of Science.” Research, then, is not, after all, apparently to be excluded from the university.
But again Newman’s concern is to argue that a university is for education, not as opposed to research, but as opposed to moral and spiritual formation. But far from research not being the business of a university, Newman actually thought the opposite, as he makes clear in a lecture in the second half of The Idea of a University where he is no longer preoccupied with establishing that a university is not a seminary. There he states unequivocally: “What an empire is in political history, such is a University in the sphere of … research.”[22] But because the Discourses are often equated with The Idea of a University and the second half of the book is not read, this ringing endorsement of the place of research in the university is unknown to educational writers.
Newman’s actual practice at the Catholic University of Ireland was totally consistent with this. Unable to carry out all his objectives during his frustrated presidency, he nevertheless set out plans for research institutes in science, technology, archaeology, and medicine, “institutions,” he declared, “which will have their value intrinsically, whether students are present or not.” His categorical insistence on the research duties of the University’s professors would at the time have caused some surprise at his own old University of Oxford, where the professors were not unduly given either to teaching or to research prior to the reforms of 1854. And he founded a “literary and scientific journal” called the Atlantis “for depositing professorial work.”[23] Corresponding to the colleges at Oxford were collegiate houses headed by priests with tutors who were, like the fellows of Oxford colleges then, unmarried graduates. These tutors and fellows were not permanent members of the teaching staff and would leave on getting married. But while Newman wished to preserve the collegiate, tutorial dimension in Dublin, he also wanted to supplement it with the university and professorial dimension which was then very weak at Oxford.
To deal with another common misunderstanding, Newman had no intention of simply setting up a replica of Oxford in Dublin, but he was clear that the constitution of the new university should be modelled upon “the pattern of the University of Louvain.”[24] This was not only because the recently founded Belgian university provided a model for a Catholic university, but because it offered a continental corrective to the Oxford collegiate system. For the originality of Newman’s conception of his university was that it would combine the advantages of both systems: that is, he wanted a “University seated and living in Colleges,” which he hoped would be “a perfect institution, as possessing excellences of opposite kinds.” Given that he thought that “the critical evil in the present state of the English Universities” was, “not that the Colleges are strong, but that the University has no practical or real jurisdiction over them,”[25] it is not surprising that in Dublin he ensured that, as at Louvain, the government of the University lay in the hands of the president and professors rather than the heads of the collegiate houses. And it is surely the case that Newman’s concern was not only with effective administration but also with the quality of teaching and the need for research in a university.
In the second of the Discourses, Newman repeats his point in the Preface that a university “by its very name professes to teach universal knowledge,” that is, “all branches of knowledge.” This would seem impractical, not to say undesirable. But Newman should not be taken too literally. The Catholic University of Ireland did not teach, nor did it aspire to teach, all conceivable branches of knowledge. Newman’s point is that a university should in principle be open to teaching anything that is knowable: “all branches of knowledge are, at least implicitly, the subject-matter of its teaching.” It should not refuse to do so on some discriminatory ground “through the systematic omission of any one science.”
Clearly some subjects were more important and some indispensable. But in principle, a university must be hospitable to any kind of genuine knowledge. He corrects any misunderstanding in an explanatory appendix to the Discourses: “Though I have spoken of a University as a place for cultivating all knowledge, yet this does not imply that in matter of fact a particular University might not be deficient in this or that branch, or that it might not give especial attention to one branch over the rest; but only that all branches of knowledge were presupposed or implied, and none omitted on principle.” There must be no restrictions reflecting any ideological conceptions of the range of human knowledge: “For instance, are we to limit our idea of University Knowledge by the evidence of our senses? then we exclude ethics; by intuition? we exclude history; by testimony? we exclude metaphysics; by abstract reasoning? We exclude physics.” Instead, Newman insists not only on the fullness but on the wholeness and unity of knowledge:
All that exists, as contemplated by the human mind, forms one large system or complex fact, and this of course resolves itself into an indefinite number of particular facts, which, as being portions of a whole, have countless relations of every kind, one towards another. Knowledge is the apprehension of these facts, whether in themselves, or in their mutual positions and bearings. And, as all taken together form one integral subject for contemplation, so there are no natural or real limits between part and part; one is ever running into another; all, as viewed by the mind, are combined together, and possess a correlative character one with another …
The reason why “all knowledge forms one whole” is that its subject-matter is one; for the universe in its length and breadth is so intimately knit together, that we cannot separate off portion from portion, and operation from operation, except by a mental abstraction. … Next, sciences are the results of that mental abstraction … being the logical record of this or that aspect of the whole subject-matter of knowledge. As they all belong to one and the same circle of objects, they are one and all connected together; as they are but aspects of things, they are severally incomplete in their relation to the things themselves, though complete in their own idea and for their own respective purposes; on both accounts they at once need and subserve each other.
A university will not in practice teach every conceivable branch of knowledge, but in theory it must be open to doing so, for if they “all relate to one and the same integral subject-matter … none can safely be omitted, if we would obtain the exactest knowledge possible of things as they are, and … the omission is more or less important, in proportion to the field which each covers, and the depth to which it penetrates, and the order to which it belongs; for its loss is a positive privation of an influence which exerts itself in the correction and completion of the rest.”[26]
Newman’s view of the interaction and interdependence of the various branches of knowledge is important both for his idea of a university as an institution and for his conception of a liberal education. His conviction of the integrity of knowledge makes him sensitive to the danger of one branch of knowledge intruding into the sphere of another. Different branches of knowledge “differ in importance; and according to their importance will be their influence, not only on the mass of knowledge to which they all converge and contribute, but on each other.” And the danger is that specialists in a particular branch of knowledge that is important, may become “bigots and quacks, scorning all principles and reported facts which do not belong to their own pursuit.” For in the “whole circle of sciences, one corrects another for purposes of fact, and one without the other cannot dogmatize, except hypothetically and upon its own abstract principles.” Against the tendency of whatever branch of knowledge at any given time to regard itself as the key to all knowledge Newman insists that each branch of knowledge only studies its own aspect of reality. And he emphasizes that the neglect or omission of any branch of knowledge, particularly if it is important and likely to impinge on other branches, does not mean that that subject simply slips out of the totality of knowledge—for:
If you drop any science out of the circle of knowledge, you cannot keep its place vacant for it; that science is forgotten; the other sciences close up, or, in other words, they exceed their proper bounds, and intrude where they have no right. For instance, I suppose, if ethics were went into banishment, its territory would soon disappear, under a treaty of partition, as it may be called, between law, political economy, and physiology …
The more ignorant the specialist in a particular subject is the more likely they are to be tempted by academic imperialism:
In proportion to the narrowness of his knowledge, is, not his distrust of it, but the deep hold it has upon him, his absolute conviction of his own conclusions, and his positiveness in maintaining them. … Thus he becomes, what is commonly called, a man of one idea; which properly means a man of one science, and of the view, partly true, but subordinate, partly false, which is all that can proceed out of any thing so partial. Hence it is that we have the principles of utility, of combination, of progress, of philanthropy, or, in material sciences, comparative anatomy, phrenology, electricity, exalted into leading ideas, and keys, if not of all knowledge, at least of many things more than belong to them …
Such narrow specialists “have made their own science … the centre of all truth, and view every part or the chief parts of knowledge as if developed from it, and to be tested and determined by its principles.”[27]
No subject is competent to evaluate its own importance as a branch of knowledge: for example, “if there is a science of wealth, it must give rules for gaining wealth and disposing of wealth,” but it “can do nothing more; it cannot itself declare that it is a subordinate science.” For the economist has no business “to recommend the science of wealth, by claiming for it an ethical quality, viz., by extolling it as the road to virtue and happiness.” Such an evaluation must either come from one of those branches of knowledge whose province it is to deal with ethical and teleological questions or it must be made not by any particular branch of knowledge but by the “philosophical” mind trained by a liberal education:
The objection that Political Economy is inferior to the science of virtue, or does not conduce to happiness, is an ethical or theological objection; the question of its “rank” belongs to that Architectonic Science or Philosophy, whatever it be, which is itself the arbiter of all truth, and which disposes of the claims and arranges the places of all the departments of knowledge which man is able to master.
Then again, ethical or political questions inevitably impinge on economics because “the various branches of science are intimately connected with each other.” But they cannot be determined by economic criteria, nor should they be covertly settled by the economist’s own private ethical or political views which are quite independent of his economics. The fundamental principle is clearly stated by Newman: “What is true in one science is dictated to us indeed according to that science, but not according to another science, or in another department.” Military science, for example, “must ever be subordinate to political considerations or maxims of government, which is a higher science with higher objects.”[28]
The danger of academic imperialism is accentuated when the specialist is working outside the community of a university, because then he is in danger of being absorbed and narrowed by his pursuit, and of giving Lectures which are the Lectures of nothing more than a lawyer, physician, geologist, or political economist; whereas in a University he will just know where he and his science stand, he has come to it, as it were, from a height, he has taken a survey of all knowledge, he is kept from extravagance by the very rivalry of other studies, he has gained from them a special illumination and largeness of mind and freedom and self-possession, and he treats his own in consequence with a philosophy and a resource, which belongs not to the study itself, but to his liberal education.
Similarly, the student is made aware at a university of other subjects than he happens to be studying: “There is no science but tells a different tale, when viewed as a portion of a whole, from what it is likely to suggest when taken by itself, without the safeguard, as I may call it, of others.” Although Newman would prefer a more specialized education to a general education involving a smattering of knowledge in a number of subjects, there is a danger in specialization or over-specialization: “If his reading is confined simply to one subject … certainly it has a tendency to contract his mind.” But since “the drift and meaning of a branch of knowledge varies with the company in which it is introduced to the student,” it is important that a student in his studies should be made aware of as many other branches of study as possible. This, then, is the kind of university where a student will gain a liberal education and where his teachers will be saved from academic imperialism:
It is a great point then to enlarge the range of studies which a University professes, even for the sake of the students; and, though they cannot pursue every subject which is open to them, they will be the gainers by living among those and under those who represent the whole circle. … An assemblage of learned men, zealous for their own sciences, and rivals of each other, are brought, by familiar intercourse and for the sake of intellectual peace, to adjust together the claims and relations of their respective subjects of education. They learn to respect, to consult, to aid each other. Thus is created a pure and clear atmosphere of thought, which the student also breathes, though in his own case he only pursues a few sciences out of the multitude. He profits by an intellectual tradition, which is independent of particular teachers, which guides him in his choice of subjects, and duly interprets for him those which he chooses. He apprehends the great outlines of knowledge, the principles on which it rests, the scale of its parts, its lights and its shades, its great points and its little, as he otherwise cannot apprehend them. Hence it is that his education is called “liberal.” A habit of mind is formed which lasts through life, of which the attributes are, freedom, equitableness, calmness, moderation, and wisdom; or what … I have ventured to call a philosophical habit.[29]
The Catholic University
The implication of Newman’s idea of a liberal education is that only a Catholic university can provide a fully liberal education. For if Catholicism is true, then Catholic theology is not only a genuine branch of knowledge, but it is the crucial branch that bears upon a number of other branches. And if it is omitted from the circle of knowledge, then the result is not only a serious vacuum, but the inevitable encroachment of another branch of knowledge where it has no competence. The result for students is that such a defective university can only offer a defective form of liberal education. No university in fact can offer a wholly “neutral” view of reality. For the very claim to do so is itself a “theory,” “a moving principle.” Furthermore, the argument that “there need not be, and that there should not be, any system or philosophy in knowledge and its transmission, but that Liberal Education henceforth should be a mere fortuitous heap of acquisitions and accomplishments” will not in fact lead to neutrality: for if there is a refusal to embrace any “general principles and constituent ideas,” then in the resulting vacuum “Private Judgment moves forward with the implements of this or that science, to do a work imperative indeed, but beyond its powers”—“Usurpers and tyrants are the successors to legitimate rulers sent into exile.”[30]
The logical conclusion of Newman’s argument, then, is that only a Catholic university is a real university that can offer a truly liberal education: “If the Catholic Faith is true, a University cannot exist externally to the Catholic pale, for it cannot teach Universal Knowledge if it does not teach Catholic theology.”[31] What, in conclusion, is Newman’s idea of a Catholic university?
First, it must of course teach Catholic theology, and in Newman’s Catholic University of Ireland all students were required to study it in their first two years. Not only the teachers of theology but all the teachers in a Catholic university are apparently to be Catholic, given that it was impossible to “have Professors who were mere abstractions and phantoms, marrowless in their bones, and without speculation in their eyes …” For, in reality, “no subject of teaching is really indifferent in fact, though it may be in itself; because it takes a colour from the whole system to which it belongs, and has one character when viewed in that system, and another viewed out of it.” However, Newman’s words do not necessarily rule out non-Catholics if they are sympathetic to the Catholic character of the university: “According then as a teacher is under the influence, or in the service, of this system or that, so does the drift, or at least the practical effect of his teaching vary …” Speaking theoretically, Newman may say in a letter that, “while you have professors of different religions, you can never have a genius loci – and the place is no longer a genuine university.”[32] But Newman was a great realist when it came to practicalities, and, while he would certainly have thought that the majority of a Catholic university’s teachers should be Catholic in order to safeguard its Catholic ‘tradition, or … genius loci,”[33] he would have been very realistic and pragmatic in realizing, for example, that a non-Catholic well disposed to the Church and to the idea of a Catholic university is greatly preferable to a lapsed and unsympathetic or dissident Catholic teacher.
Any conception that a so-called Catholic university can be detached from the wider Church community was totally unacceptable to Newman, even if such a university were absolutely Catholic both in its teaching of theology and in its spirit and tradition. He was very forthright indeed. A Catholic university, he maintained, “though it had ever so many theological Chairs, that would not suffice to make it a Catholic university; for theology would be included in its teaching only as a branch of knowledge …” Without the active presence of the Church, it would not be a real Catholic university: “Hence a direct and active jurisdiction of the Church over it and in it is necessary, lest it should become the rival of the Church with the community a large in those theological matters which to the Church are exclusively committed,—acting as the representative of the intellect, as the Church is the representative of the religious principle.” The example Newman chooses to show how the most (apparently) Catholic institution will not be truly Catholic, indeed may be anti-Catholic, “without the direct presence of the Church” is very cleverly chosen. The Spanish Inquisition, he points out, “was a purely Catholic establishment, devoted to the maintenance, or rather the ascendancy of Catholicism, keenly zealous for theological truth, the stern foe of every anti-Catholic idea, and administered by Catholic theologians; yet it in no proper sense belonged to the Church. It was simply and entirely a State institution … it was an instrument of the State … in its warfare against the Holy See.” However ostensibly Catholic in its aims, “its spirit and form were earthly and secular.” A Catholic university, therefore, cannot fulfil its function properly “without the Church’s assistance; or, to use the theological term, the Church is necessary for its integrity.”[34]
Finally, Newman was very insistent on the Church’s pastoral role in a Catholic university. The building of a church for the Catholic University of Ireland was so much a priority for him that he had even at the beginning offered to pay for one himself. Such a church would symbolize “the great principle of the University, the indissoluble union of philosophy with religion.”[35] Moreover, the presence of priests was not to be restricted to the church or chapel but was prominent in the life of the University, for the small student hostels, out of which Newman hoped that full-scale colleges would grow, were headed by priests.
[1] Autobiographical Writings, ed. Henry Tristram (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1957), 259, 49, 63.
[2] The Letters and Diaries of John Henry Newman, ed. Charles Stephen Dessain et al. (London: Nelson, 1961-72; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1973-), Vol. XIV, p. 213. Hereafter cited as LD.
[3] LD xxvi.58; xix.464; xxi.51; xxiii.117.
[4] The Idea of a University, ed. I. T. Ker (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1976), 10-11. Hereafter cited as Idea.
[5] Idea, 103-4, 114.
[6] Idea, 193-4, 197, 216, 221-2, 245.
[7] See A. Dwight Culler, The Imperial Intellect: A Study of Newman’s Educational Ideal (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1955), 16.
[8] See Idea, pp. xxv-vi.
[9] Idea, 221-2
[10] Idea, 193.
[11] Idea, 10-13, 57.
[12] Idea, 113.
[13] Raymond Williams, Culture and Society 1780-1950 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1958), 110-11.
[14] Matthew Arnold, Culture and Anarchy with Friendship’s Garland and Some Literary Essays, ed. R. H. Super (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1965), 233.
[15] Idea, 114.
[16] Idea, 116-7, 120-1.
[17] Idea, 122-4.
[18] Idea, 125-8.
[19] Idea, 134-5, 145-6, 154.
[20] Idea, 129-32.
[21] Idea, 5.
[22] Idea, 9, 370.
[23] William Neville, ed., My Campaign in Ireland, Part I (privately printed, 1896), 96-7, 110-11.
[24] Ibid, p. 58.
[25] Historical Sketches (London: Longmans, Green, 1872), vol. III, pp. 229, 235.
[26] Idea, 33, 57, 183, 38, 52, 57.
[27] Idea, 54-7, 73-4, 76, 81.
[28] Idea, 84, 86-7, 73, 407.
[29] Idea, 145-6, 94-6.
[30] Idea, 421-2.
[31] Idea, 184.
[32] Idea, 251, 427, 635.
[33] Idea, 130.
[34] Idea, 184-5.
[35] My Campaign in Ireland, 290.
Behaviors and Beliefs of Current and Recent Students at U.S. Catholic Colleges
/in Mission and Governance Mission and Catholic Identity, Research and Analysis/by Steven WagnerThis analysis is based on a national survey of current and former undergraduate students at Roman Catholic colleges and universities in the United States, conducted by QEV Analytics for The Cardinal Newman Society. In total, 506 respondents participated: 251 current students and 255 recent graduates or attendees under 30 years of age. Data were collected in May and June of this year. The theoretical margin of sampling error is plus or minus 4.4% at the 95% confidence level.
This survey was administered on-line, utilizing a sample developed by a commercial sample vendor (Peanut Labs). The vendor develops its sample through social networking Internet sites and reports a recruitment pool of 10 million. The obtained sample of 506 current and recent students was weighted by age (18-29) to achieve an even distribution, and by institution to limit attendees of any one institution to 3% of the sample.
General Characteristics of Respondents
Half of the respondents are currently students at Catholic colleges and universities. Nearly one-quarter (23%) have graduated from a Catholic college or university, almost all of them since the year 2000. Just more than a quarter (27%) are former students at a Catholic college or university, but did not graduate from that institution.
The majority of respondents are female (57%). This corresponds closely to trends in U.S. undergraduate enrollment reported by the U.S. Census Bureau: a majority of college undergraduates have been women since 1979, holding steadily around 56% from 2000 to 2006.
Fifty-eight percent (58%) of respondents identify themselves as Catholic today and also while they were students at Catholic colleges and universities. Six percent (6%) were Catholic in college, but not now (only one percent were not Catholic in college but are now). Another 29% were not Catholic in their last year of college and are not currently Catholic.
For comparison in this report, we use the term “sacramentally-active Catholic”—those who attend Mass at least once a week and participate in the Sacrament of Reconciliation at least once a year. Just more than half (53%) the respondents report participating in a Catholic Mass at least weekly during their last year at a Catholic college or university. Sixty-one percent (61%) report participating in the Sacrament of Reconciliation at least once in their most recent year attending a Catholic institution. We combined these results to identify respondents who were sacramentally-active Catholics during their last year at a Catholic college or university. While 65% of our sample considered themselves to be Catholic while attending a Catholic college, only 48% of respondents actually participated in the Sacraments with the frequency required of faithful Catholics.
More than half (54%) the respondents report a G.P.A. of 3.5 or higher while attending a Catholic college or university. Nearly a quarter (23%) achieved grades of 3.8 or higher.
Representation of Students at Catholic Colleges and Universities
This random sample of students who attend or recently attended U.S. Catholic colleges and universities provides statistically valid results applicable to current and recent undergraduate students at Catholic institutions generally in the United States, within the theoretical margin of sampling error.
Respondents have attended at least 128 different Catholic colleges and universities, representing 62% of the universe of 208 institutions with undergraduate programs for lay students. These may not include colleges and universities attended by 101 respondents (20% of the total sample) who provided ambiguous school names (e.g. “St. Mary’s,” which could apply to several institutions).
We undertook a review of the respondents to evaluate characteristics of the colleges and universities they attended, in comparison to all students currently attending Catholic colleges and universities. We relied primarily on publicly available enrollment, location and admissions selectivity data from the National Catholic College Admission Association (NCCAA). For several Catholic colleges and universities not included in the NCCAA data set, and missing data for institutions affiliated with NCCAA, we relied on publicly available data from Peterson’s college guides.
The survey respondents, all under 30 years of age, attended Catholic colleges and universities over a span of several years, but our comparison data is for current students only. Some change in the enrollment and admissions selectivity characteristics of each college and university is likely over time. Respondents who provided ambiguous school names were not included in the analysis.
Acknowledging the limitations inherent in any survey research of this kind, we found a high degree of comparability between the obtained survey sample and the profile of current students at Catholic colleges and universities.
at Catholic Colleges
& Universities
(unweighted)
Goings-On, On Catholic Campuses
Certain behaviors of many students at America’s Catholic colleges and universities conform more closely to prevailing cultural norms than to traditional Catholic morality:
Each negative behavior tends to correlate with other negative behaviors. For instance, among those who had premarital sex during their last year at a Catholic college or university, 51% also regularly got drunk and 39% regularly viewed pornography that same year—as compared to 15% and 18% of students who abstained from sex during their last year. Among those who regularly got drunk during their last year at a Catholic college or university, 74% also had sex and 47% regularly viewed pornography that same year—as compared to 34% and 18% of those who did not get drunk regularly during their last year.
The negative behaviors of respondents strongly coincide with having friends who engage in the same or other negative behaviors. About two-thirds (64%) of respondents say that half or more of their close friends at a Catholic college or university drank alcohol regularly; 40% of those respondents got drunk regularly in their last year at the Catholic institution, as compared to 17% of students with a majority of friends who did not drink regularly. Among respondents who reported that half or more of their close friends at a Catholic college or university engaged in premarital sex (58% of the sample), nearly two-thirds (64%) had premarital sex in their last year, as compared to 23% of students with a majority of friends who abstained from sex.
Respondents who were Catholic in college—and especially sacramentally-active Catholics—are somewhat less likely to have engaged in negative behaviors. The difference, however, is not always very large given the Catholic Church’s strong teaching against these behaviors. We find no more than a five-point difference between all respondents and sacramentally-active Catholics with regard to having premarital sex and getting drunk during their last year at a Catholic college or university. There is no significant difference on viewing pornography. There are significant differences, however, in the behavior of close friends of sacramentally-active Catholics. Catholic students are just as likely to know a student who had an abortion or paid for someone to have an abortion.
Dissent from Catholic Teaching
Most respondents, including Catholics, disagree with traditional Catholic teachings on key moral issues and the priesthood, but Catholic respondents are more in accord with Catholic teachings on matters of dogmatic theology.
With regard to traditional Catholic teaching, the average number of canonically correct answers for all respondents is two (out of seven); for respondents who were sacramentally-active Catholics during their last year at a Catholic college or university, it is three.
These next several questions gauge the morality of various acts. In the following table, we have combined the responses “always morally acceptable” with “usually morally acceptable;” “usually morally wrong” with “always morally wrong.” Here respondents are less in conflict with Catholic teaching, and a stronger difference is seen for current Catholics and respondents who were sacramentally-active Catholics during their last year at a Catholic college or university.
Nearly half (47%) of the respondents who say that an abortion is usually or always morally wrong agree with the proposition that abortion should be legal. This is evidence that some respondents are reluctant to use the law to enforce a moral judgment, a reluctance also found among Catholic adults generally. This phenomenon is also visible to a lesser extent on the question of same-sex marriage. One third of those who hold that sex between persons of the same sex is usually or always morally wrong also agree same-sex marriage should be legal.
Student Activities
We asked respondents about their participation in extracurricular activities that are associated with three common emphases of Catholic educators: community service and promoting social justice, advocating respect for human life at all its stages, and spiritual development in the Catholic faith.
Half (50%) the respondents reported that while a student at a Catholic college or university, they participated “in an organization or program devoted to community service, alleviating human suffering, or otherwise concerned with social justice.” Participation was slightly higher (55%) if the respondent was Catholic while in college, and even higher (62%) if sacramentally active in the last year at a Catholic college or university.
Among all respondents, 44% reported that while a student at a Catholic college or university, they participated “in an organization or program devoted to Catholic prayer or Catholic spiritual development.” Participation was significantly higher (61%) if the respondent was Catholic while in college, and even higher (73%) if sacramentally active in the last year at a Catholic college or university.
Pro-life activity was less common. Only 24% of respondents reported that while a student at a Catholic college or university, they participated “in an organization or program devoted to protecting human life from abortion, stem cell research or euthanasia.” Participation was higher (32%) if the respondent was Catholic while in college, and even higher (42%) if sacramentally active in the last year at a Catholic college or university.
Academic Performance
Earlier it was noted that more than half (54%) the respondents report a G.P.A. of 3.5 or higher while attending a Catholic college or university. Nearly a quarter (23%) achieved grades of 3.8 or higher.
Some positive behaviors correlate significantly with higher grades:
Sexual activity and alcohol abuse, however, are not strong indicators of lower G.P.A.
Weak Impact on Students’ Catholicity
The experience of attending a Catholic institution of higher education does not appear to increase Catholic faith and practice for most students:
We asked whether the college or university actively encouraged Catholic students to attend Mass and practice their faith (74% said yes), whether it actively encouraged participation in community service (83% yes), whether it actively encouraged unmarried students to abstain from sex (46% yes), and whether it actively discouraged the viewing of pornography (36% yes).
Overall, considering these four questions about efforts to encourage Catholic activity and moral behavior, 25 percent scored the Catholic college or university they attended 4 out of 4; 19 percent gave their school 3 out of 4; 31 percent gave it 2 out of four, 17 percent 1 out of four, and 7 percent zero out of 4.
Although Catholic colleges and universities appear to have had less impact on respondents’ Catholicity than might be hoped for, behavioral messages do seem to have some influence:
We also asked about certain influences in campus life at a Catholic college or university that would seem negative from a traditional Catholic perspective:
Decline in Catholic Affiliation
Earlier we noted that 58% of respondents consider themselves to be Catholic today and also while they attended a Catholic college or university. Six percent (6%) were Catholic in college, but not now. Only 1% are Catholic today, but were not in college.
This net decline in Catholic self-identification suggests that very few convert to the Catholic faith after leaving college. Nearly a third of attendees of Catholic institutions of higher education (29%) were not Catholic in college and did not become so afterward. There may be conversions going on during the years on campus which we did not detect, because respondents who say they were Catholic at some point during college may have entered college as self-described non-Catholics.
What is clear, however, is that current students at Catholic colleges and universities are also leaving the Catholic Church. Among current students who say they were Catholic at some point during their studies, four percent report that they are no longer Catholic. The percent of Catholic students leaving the Church over the course of a Catholic college education (usually four years) may actually be larger than this, because the current students who responded to the survey are of different ages, and most of them still have one or more years of study before they graduate.
Choosing a Catholic College or University
A majority of respondents (55%)—and especially those who were Catholic in college (74%) or were sacramentally-active Catholics during their last year at a Catholic college or university (84%)—say that the fact that a college or university is Catholic was very or somewhat important to their decision to attend the institution.
For almost half the respondents (47%), the decision to attend a Catholic college or university was made together with their parents—slightly higher (54%) for Catholic students. Nearly one-third (30%) of all respondents say they made the choice alone, and 17% say it was mainly their parents’ decision.
Why respondents chose to attend Catholic colleges and universities has a strong relationship with subsequent behavior and Catholicity while students at those institutions. Those who say that Catholic identity was very important to their choice of a Catholic institution were, while attending a Catholic college or university:
Desired Directions in Catholic Identity
Among all respondents, 28% say their Catholic college or university would be a better place if it had a stronger Catholic identity, 43% say it is already Catholic enough, and just 12% say they want their school to be less Catholic (17% rendered no opinion).
Respondents’ own Catholic identity is strongly related to how they respond to this question. Among those who want their college or university to have a weaker Catholic identity, most (62%) are not currently Catholic. By contrast, 40% of respondents who were Catholic during college and remain Catholic want their school to have a stronger Catholic identity. Forty-seven percent (47%) of respondents who were sacramentally-active Catholics during their last year agree, as do nearly three-quarters (71%) of respondents who say Catholic identity was very important to their college selection.
We asked those who desire improvement to identify one or more measures that would significantly strengthen a college’s or university’s Catholic identity. The measures most often identified are encouraging Mass attendance and Reconciliation (74%), encouraging community service and social justice activities (63%), requiring more Catholic theology courses (58%), encouraging sexual abstinence (56%) and providing guest speakers supportive of Catholic doctrine (55%).
Male-Female Distinctions
In many of the areas discussed above—including Catholic practice, devotion to Catholic Church teachings, and behavior—this survey indicates some interesting differences between male and female respondents.
When comparing the sexes it should be noted that in this survey, the margin of sampling error for men is ±6.6 percent and ±5.8 percent for women. This means that the difference between the sexes needs to be 13 percent in order to be statistically significant. Many of the results highlighted here are within the margin of sampling error, several are not. However, readers are reminded that the most likely result, were it possible to interview every eligible male or female, would be the result we report here.
Men are more likely than women to currently consider themselves to be Catholic, 65% versus 55%. However, men are also more likely to report they were Catholic in college, 68% to 61%. So men and women have left the Church since college at nearly the same rate, 5% of men and 7% of women.
But by the measure of participating in the Sacraments, men report being significantly more Catholic than do women. Weekly Mass attendance during the last year at a Catholic college or university was more prevalent among men (62% to 46%), as was the incidence of annual Reconciliation during the last year at a Catholic college or university (69% to 56%), meaning the percentage of sacramentally-active Catholic men is 58% versus 41% for women. And men were a bit more likely to pray daily, 57% to 48%.
Women who currently or recently attended Catholic colleges and universities are also likely to endorse public policies at odds with Catholic Church teachings. Women say that a woman should have a legal right to have an abortion at a greater rate than men, 65% to 53%. Women are more likely than men to say that sex before marriage not a sin, 66% to 53%. And women are more likely than men to endorse the legalization of same-sex marriage, 65% to 46%. Interestingly, there is less difference on questions regarding the morality of the underlying acts for these policy positions. For example, on the morality of abortion, 65% of men say that the act of an abortion is always or usually morally wrong, and 62% of women concur.
Perhaps counter-intuitively, men were not found to be more likely than women to have friends who engaged in undesirable behaviors, while attending Catholic colleges and universities:
On questions related to personal behavior, men were more likely to view pornography during their last year at a Catholic college or university: 45%, versus 14% for women. But women were more likely to engage in sex outside of marriage, 50% to 41% for men.
The experience of attending a Catholic institution appears to have had a positive impact on more men than women, in terms of appreciation of the faith. Attending a Catholic college increased participation in Sacraments for 41% of men, versus 23% of women. The experience increased support for the teachings of the Church for 40% of men, and 23% of women. The experience increased respect for the Pope and Bishops for 37% of men, 21% of women. While attending a Catholic college or university, men were more likely than women to have participated in an organization focused on community service (54% to 46% for women), defense of life (32% to 18%), or prayer and spiritual development (54% to 37%).
Finally, women were found to be less likely to want their schools to have stronger Catholic identities: 22% of women but 36% of men. Thirty percent (30%) of females did not graduate from the Catholic school they attended, versus 23% of men.
Recommended Further Study
This survey presents many findings that are worthy of further exploration to assess why students at Catholic colleges and universities behave and believe as they do, and the extent to which students’ experiences at Catholic colleges and universities have a positive or negative impact on students’ affinity for the Catholic Church.
Areas that might be explored—and this is by no means an exhaustive list—include:
A Rekindling of the Light: The Past, Present and Future of a Catholic Core Curriculum
/in Academics Curriculum, Research and Analysis/by Dr. R. E. HouserExecutive Summary
In his Washington address to Catholic educators, Pope Benedict XVI argued that three “goods”—those of the Church, political society and education itself—require the Church’s institutions of higher education have a strong Catholic identity. Although the Holy Father only touched on curricular matters incidentally, his argument entails important consequences in favor of curricula with robust cores in the liberal arts and sciences, philosophy and theology.
The history of Catholic higher education sheds light on Pope Benedict’s Ex corde Ecclesiae vision and its application to the current American scene. Six features of the medieval university curriculum working together remain essential. These six features are: (1) a bi-level nature; (2) an initial core followed by specialized, advanced training; (3) a curriculum that centers on books; (4) a curriculum that offers doctrine; (5) a curriculum that is Catholic; and (6) a curriculum that is integrated.
The present “rekindling” of traditional Catholic curricula at new colleges provides models from which larger Ex corde Ecclesiae universities may develop.
A Rekindling of the Light: The Past, Present and Future of a Catholic Core Curriculum
As part of his apostolic journey to the U.S., on April 17, 2008, Pope Benedict XVI spoke to Catholic educators assembled in Washington, D.C. The Holy Father was not breaking new ground, but building on Pope John Paul II’s Ex corde Ecclesiae (1990) and Fides et ratio (1998). His task was to inspire an Ex corde vision for American “institutions of learning,” which had already been somewhat thrown into relief by The Newman Guide to Choosing a Catholic College (2007).7
The 21 Catholic institutions recommended in The Newman Guide may surprise some readers, because the highest profile Catholic universities are absent. Administrators, faculty and alumni from these and other schools from among the 200 or so Catholic colleges and universities may challenge their non-inclusion.
But Pope Benedict embraced some of the recent trends captured by The Guide in his own vision of the “nature and identity of Catholic education today.” History helps to understand applying papal principles to the current American situation. It is useful to begin by looking at the history of Catholic colleges and universities, then briefly turn to the American scene, and on this basis attempt to “listen” to Benedict’s Washington address, including its hard truths—some explicit, others implied.
Universities Through Time
Core curricula in Catholic colleges and universities have developed and changed frequently, but never as dramatically as in recent history. Historians have already begun to recognize that the twentieth century saw changes in universities more rapid and extensive than any period since Catholics first created them in the European Middle Ages. Fortunately, two astute modern observers help with the American experience.23 Philip Gleason and Father James Burtchaell, C.S.C., both begin with the Jesuit Ratio Studiorum, the blueprint for the Society’s schools formulated in 1599, but it is instructive to go back even farther in time.
The Medieval University
While most educational experiments have not stood the test of time, the university—first created around the year 1200 in Paris, Oxford and Bologna—has done so because it possesses certain features that are essential to the central task of higher education, which is creating, preserving and passing on knowledge, even wisdom.25 Here I isolate six aspects of the medieval university’s curriculum.
These six features are: (1) a bi-level nature; (2) an initial core followed by specialized, advanced training; (3) a curriculum that centers on books; (4) a curriculum that offers doctrine; (5) a curriculum that is Catholic; and (6) a curriculum that is integrated. The medieval university provides my illustrations, but my argument is that these six features are essential to the very nature of Catholic universities, which teach both undergraduate and graduate students, and Catholic colleges, which teach undergraduates.
The medieval university curriculum was modeled on the medieval craft guild—with its apprentices, journeymen and “master” craftsmen. This educational structure is still familiar: undergraduates pursuing a “Bachelor’s” degree and graduate students pursuing a “Master’s” (comparable to today’s Ph.D.). The curriculum was separated into two levels—undergraduate and graduate—because medieval professors, called “Masters,” understood that advanced intellectual training needed to be grounded in what we would now call general education. There would be no physics without mathematics and no philosophy without grammar, then and now. The medieval university curriculum, therefore, was bi-level because general undergraduate studies were separate from specialized graduate studies. Centuries later the undergraduate curriculum in both colleges and universities would itself become bi-level, divided into general or core courses required of all students and specialized “majors” pursued by fewer than all.
The whole curriculum of the medieval undergraduate Faculty of Arts was required of all students. Such a mandatory or core curriculum is sharply different from requirements that can be filled in a number of ways, nowadays called “distribution components.” The medieval core originally consisted of the seven “liberal” arts—the trivium of language arts (grammar, rhetoric and logic) and the quadrivium of mathematics and science (arithmetic, geometry, astronomy and music)—so called because they “liberate” the mind for higher studies, then limited to theology, law and medicine. This practice recognized that illogical lawyers lose cases, and surgeons who cannot follow the geometry of the human body kill their patients.
The medieval curriculum was a books curriculum. Masters self-consciously preferred primary sources, many non-Christian, to textbooks written by one another. To the few classical and patristic sources available earlier, in the thirteenth century was added a vast array of Aristotle’s books. Aristotle’s works on logic and the “sciences,” both practical and theoretical, became incorporated into the medieval curriculum. University requirements were spelled out in terms of books. To graduate, the student would be tested on them to determine if he—for centuries it would only be men—were “approved in science and morals (scientia et moribus).” The schoolmen were humble and wise enough to see in a books curriculum the basis for life-long learning, because they read other books like they read the book, the Bible.
The reason for laboring over books, especially master works, was to understand the truth they are thought to contain. This is what I mean by doctrine, which is not limited to Catholic topics, because the medieval scholars found doctrine in all the disciplines. In medicine, for example, learning correct “doctrine” about the geometry of lines and the nature of light resolved the centuries long dispute over whether seeing is accomplished by rays of light moving from the object to the eye or the reverse. The books in the medieval core were chosen because they imparted both intellectual skills and doctrinal content.
The medieval university was Catholic, but its curriculum was not limited to explicitly Catholic subjects. Centuries earlier Augustine had decided the issue: Greek learning would be integrated into Catholic education, in the way the ancient Hebrews had “spoiled” or appropriated the gold of the Egyptians when Moses led them to the Promised Land. Medieval curricula in theology and canon law were explicitly Catholic, but since these were graduate courses Catholic doctrine was taught to undergraduates less directly. Masters taught through lectures, “reading” books written mainly by classical pagan authors, through disputations on topics of current interest, and through sermons on Sundays and the many feast days on the university calendar.
In all three venues undergraduate students saw the dialectical interplay between faith and reason played out by their Masters, most especially in sermons that were more like essays on scripture and doctrine than what we have today. As one might expect, the Catholic character of medieval universities led from the beginning to disputes over books and doctrines (for example, in Paris, 1210). In the thirteenth century, the changing attitude toward some of Aristotle’s books—accepted, banned, accepted again—can stand as a sign that Catholic concerns guided the curriculum.
Integration is my term for how the curriculum and, more broadly, different strands in the tapestry of knowledge, fit together to produce a unified whole whose parts can be seen to complement each other. In one way, integration is a process of personal development, never complete because each of us must come to see for ourselves if there is such an order and what it is. The medieval curriculum was designed to expedite this personal achievement.
But how the seven liberal arts, early Church Fathers and Aristotelian philosophy fit together was not obvious. In the 1250s, the Franciscan Bonaventure and the Dominican Thomas of Aquino argued that theology stood first among the disciplines and integrated the “arts and sciences” into an ordered whole by providing them a goal beyond themselves.36 Thus was set the idea that the whole undergraduate curriculum would somehow open the mind to theology and to an active Christian life beyond the university.
These six features—bi-level, core, books, doctrine, Catholic and integration—characterized the medieval curriculum. Though manifested in different ways and degrees in various institutions, these features go to the very essence of what constitutes a Catholic university. All six working together are necessary for the university to achieve its proper “outcomes,” that is, graduates who will be Catholic professionals wise “in knowledge and morals,” and in the masters, books and artifacts that embody the wisdom those graduates need. If so, these six features can be used as criteria to make judgments about Catholic colleges and universities, then and now.
The Jesuit Ratio Studiorum
Over the centuries, the expansion of knowledge put pressure on the university curriculum: at first the re-discovery of the past (Aristotle and the classics), and also new discoveries, whose pace quickened with the scientific revolution. The Jesuit Ratio Studiorum was designed to solve the problem of an expanding core by expanding time in school. The classical studies introduced by humanists from Petrarch to Erasmus were turned into a five-year “humanities” course (Latin, Greek, classical history and literature), designed as preparation for a three-year scholastic “philosophy” course (Aristotelian philosophy and mathematics as taken by Ignatius’s first Jesuits at the University of Paris), which culminated for Jesuits themselves, but not for laymen, in a three-year “theology” course.41
Jesuit schools were not part of the older universities, but built from the ground up, their “colleges” being an extension of their “humanities” schools, which we might think of as secondary schools. Typical was the Jesuit school at La Fleche, France, where from 1606 to 1614 René Descartes followed the Jesuit Ratio in humanities and philosophy, which qualified him to study law at the University of Poitiers (1614-16). Two centuries later, the seven-year course of study at the Jesuit school in “George-Town on the Potowmack-River” by the 1830s contained the five years of “Humanities,” book-ended by a first year of “Rudiments” for backward Americans, and a last year of “Philosophy,” reduced from the three in the Ratio.48
The Jesuit Ratio covered only core subjects. It was also doctrinal and Catholic. Its humanistic bent had older students reading books, but relegating the classics to younger boys inevitably drew the pre-collegiate curriculum toward textbooks, a change exacerbated when Jesuits opened courses of study in vernacular languages and sciences.
In comparison with the medieval university, one thing was clearly absent—Jesuit education was not bi-level; it contained only core. And integration was another problem. Theology was still thought of as the “integrating” discipline, but since it was taught only to Jesuits, not laymen, the de facto integrating discipline in the Ratio was philosophy. Descartes’ decision to separate rational knowledge completely from theology grew out of his Jesuit education. His “tree” of knowledge had three parts: its roots were metaphysics, its trunk the “new physics” and its branches and leaves would be scientific engineering, scientific psychology and scientific medicine. For Descartes and his heirs, philosophy would now integrate a secular curriculum.
President Eliot’s “Elective” System
In 1884, a crisis in American education was precipitated when President Charles W. Eliot introduced the “elective system” that eliminated the core curriculum at Harvard. Not for the first time, an American was attempting to imitate the Europeans, but without understanding them. Eliot saw that over time European universities had become devoted to specialized knowledge, but he failed to understand that Europeans had developed the lycée / gymnasium system, which downloaded the core liberal arts education from university to the secondary school level, something Americans had not done.
At first, Eliot proposed his elective system for colleges, and then even for secondary schools. In an Atlantic Monthly article in 1899, Eliot dismissed opposition to his proposal as retrograde religiosity and slammed the Jesuits:
There are those who say that there should be no election of studies in secondary schools…. This is precisely the method followed in Moslem countries, where the Koran prescribes the perfect education, to be administered to all children alike…. Another instance of uniform prescribed education may be found in the curriculum of the Jesuit colleges, which has remained almost unchanged for four hundred [really 300] years, disregarding some trifling concessions made to natural science. That these examples are both ecclesiastical is not without significance.56
Eliot’s elective system eventually predominated, reaching its high water mark in the 1960s, when some schools finally swept away all required courses. The elective system preserves none of the six features of the Catholic curriculum, which is why Eliot took after the Jesuits so viciously. Eliot’s curriculum would not even be bi-level; everything would be sacrificed to specialization.
Reaction against Eliot was determined. Samuel Eliot Morison, the chronicler of Harvard’s history, later wrote: “It is a hard saying, but Mr. Eliot, more than any other man, is responsible for the greatest educational crime of the century against American youth—depriving him of his classical heritage.”59 But in 1900 responding fell to a feisty philosophy professor and president (1894-98) at Boston College, Father Timothy Brosnahan, S.J. The Atlantic refused to print his reply to Eliot, so Father Brosnahan had to content himself with the Sacred Heart Review, in which he wrote:
The young man applying for an education is told to look out on the whole realm of learning, to him unknown and untrodden, and to elect his path…. He must distinctly understand that it is no longer the province of his Alma Mater to act as earthly providence for him. Circumstances have obliged her to become a caterer. Each student is free to choose his intellectual pabulum [nourishment], and must assume in the main the direction of his own studies. If he solve the problem wisely, to him the profit; if unwisely, this same Alma Noverca [Step-mother] disclaims the responsibility.61
That Father Brosnahan foresaw the debacle that would not fully develop until the second half of the twentieth century is a tribute to his foresight. But what kind of curriculum did he support? It was squarely based on the Ratio. American Jesuits quite rightly refused to demote humanities completely to the secondary school, and they knew that without humanities American collegians would not be prepared for the Ratio’s three years of philosophy. So for Americans, Georgetown’s version of the Ratio was best: begin with humanities, that is, Latin and Greek classics, and end with “philosophy,” as what we would now call a “capstone experience.”
At Father Brosnahan’s Boston College, the curriculum was core, doctrinal and Catholic. Following Jesuit tradition, it eschewed bi-level education and textbooks often replaced primary source books. In 1900, integration through theology was still reserved for Jesuits. Philosophy would remain the integrating discipline for laymen, and in the 1920s at Boston College, “[p]hilosophy provided the finishing of one’s collegiate education, the worldview which allowed and goaded each undergraduate… to organize all that he or she had learned… within the integrative way of thinking that was provided by Thomist philosophy.” And as late as “the 1950s a student would still take ten courses for a whopping twenty-eight credits in philosophy during his or her last two years: logic, epistemology, metaphysics, cosmology, fundamental psychology, empirical psychology, rational psychology, natural theology, general ethics, and special ethics.”64 In the first half of the twentieth century, the Ratio still guided Jesuit and many other Catholic colleges, but changes were coming.65
The Catholic Light Dying
Already in 1898, Father Read Mullen, S.J., successor to Father Brosnahan as president of Boston College (1898-1903), had introduced an English track that included English, modern languages and sciences, rather than classics, though it still held tight to the philosophy requirement. In 1935, Holy Cross and Boston College dropped the Greek requirement from the B.A. degree, and in 1955 the American Jesuits requested permission to drop the Latin requirement. But if a good core can be run in the vernacular tongue (a reasonable assumption, since Latin was no longer the language of educated people), the Jesuit curriculum still held very much to the Ratio, with one significant improvement: place was made for undergraduate majors, which made the undergraduate curriculum bi-level.
Then came the fateful 1960s, with its vehement rejection of tradition, including philosophy, theology and even the very notion of a common core. In its centennial year (1963-64), Boston College cut its philosophy requirement in half to five courses, further reduced it to two in 1971. Throughout the Catholic system, core courses began to be replaced by distribution components fulfilled from a number of options, an application of Eliot’s elective system to required courses. The Catholic university became Father Brosnahan’s “caterer” at the same time one began to hear the phrase “cafeteria Catholic.”
The effect can be seen in courses currently required for a B.A. in Arts and Sciences at St. Louis University, to pick but one and arguably the most traditional of the major Jesuit universities. At St. Louis, the required curriculum is large, roughly half of one’s courses (16 to 21 out of 40, depending on foreign language). Vestiges of the Ratio can still be discerned. “Humanities” show up in requirements in English, world history and foreign language. Science (including mathematics) and philosophy fall under the Ratio’s conception of “philosophy.” There is also theology.
Such requirements seem to produce a bi-level curriculum, but only of a sort. Of the total required, only six are truly core courses, all the rest are distribution components for which any number of courses might suffice. Indeed, there are 13 variations available for the first required English course; students may choose from 87 courses to satisfy the Cultural Diversity requirement; and the number of offerings that meet the Social Science component is even higher.
The net result is clear. St. Louis no longer has a core curriculum of the sort found in Catholic universities from the 1260s to the 1960s. Distribution components make a books curriculum for all students impossible. Nor is the curriculum doctrinal or Catholic, in the sense that it ensures every student the opportunity to encounter the wealth of the Catholic (or any other) intellectual tradition. It follows that the St. Louis curriculum is not integrated, but fragmented into myriad little pieces. As interesting as they may be individually, they do not add up to a whole, even if a particularly clever or well-advised student can devise a curriculum with all six of these traditional traits. The most important point: St. Louis University is but one example of a widespread problem.
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Along with cathedrals, veneration of the Virgin, Franciscan poverty and knightly chivalry, the university is a world-historical gift from medieval Europeans to the whole human race. The university has been exported around the globe and shows no signs of diminution, because with it humans created a superb educational institution. It has changed over time, however, producing successive “models” of Catholic higher education.
In a papal bull issued in 1231, Pope Gregory IX called the university in Paris “parens scientiarum,” the parent of the sciences, in homage to its role as a model. And Paris begat the Jesuit Ratio, which begat the nineteenth century Neo-scholastic model, which in Hegelian fashion begat what I call the “Freewheeling” 1960s model. From Paris we can learn that Masters and their books are good even though it is unfortunate that universities eclipsed the thriving schools in Benedictine nunneries. The first Jesuits teach us that core and doctrine are good, but they also gave us Descartes and the term “Jesuitical.”
From Pope Leo XIII and Americans like Father Brosnahan came pugnaciously Catholic colleges, with curricula integrated by philosophy and theology. But they also gave us awful textbooks that eclipsed wisdom in pursuit of uniformity. The Freewheeling period showed that specialization and professionalization could produce a bi-level undergraduate curriculum. Specialization need not entail secularization, but secularization rode into American Catholic colleges and universities on the coattails of the Freewheeling model. This unhappy fact cannot be denied.
Will the Freewheeling model of a Catholic university be with us for a long time? No, it is already is dying because it cannot deliver the kind of truly Catholic education as could its predecessors. Such changes are not unusual; indeed, they are the iron law of history. We should attempt to preserve what is good in the Freewheeling model, especially that research universities must be staffed by the most accomplished researchers.
But imagine yourself in 1229 trying to convince Philip, Chancellor of the University of Paris, that there are no Dominicans professionally qualified for the Chair in Theology he has just secured for the fledgling order. History shows how shallow is this attitude, at that time espoused by the secular Masters of Theology then on strike and what we might now call the “Ivy League syndrome.” The first Dominican appointed was Roland of Cremona, whose name is all but forgotten, but within twenty years the Dominicans sent to Paris both Albert of Cologne and Thomas of Aquino. The rest is history.
Rekindling the Catholic Light
The dissolution of the Catholic character of the curriculum at Catholic universities has not gone unchallenged in the post-Vatican II era by individual Catholic faculty in many places and by some reformers. Quite striking during this era have been the “new starts,” small, even tiny, institutions begun during the “dying of the light.” Several were founded in the 1970s, and a second wave is underway, including a few now in the planning stages. Their founders have and still work very much against the common consensus of the American Catholic educational establishment, and for the first time many of them are laymen.
In looking at these efforts to restore Catholicity to curriculum, I would like to distinguish three kinds of institutions, all found in The Newman Guide, what I call: (a) the “Great Books” Catholic college; (b) the “Doctrinal” Catholic college; and (c) the Ex corde Catholic university.
The “Great Books” Catholic College
Catholics were not the only educators to react against President Eliot’s elective system. At Columbia, the gifted polymath John Erskine created the first “Great Books” course in 1920. When Robert Hutchins took over at The University of Chicago in 1929, he teamed up with a firebrand philosopher from Columbia named Mortimer Adler to produce the “Chicago Plan.” Neither Catholic nor committed to doctrine, the latter had other central features of the Catholic university: an undergraduate college with a core curriculum featuring books, combined with advanced learning in graduate school. In 1937, near-defunct St. John’s College in Annapolis, Maryland, changed its whole curriculum into a four-year Great Books B.A.
In 1941 Brother Austin Crowley, F.S.C., introduced a Great Books curriculum at St. Mary’s in Moraga, California. By 1968, St. Mary’s was in trouble and, in an oft-repeated error, the curriculum was blamed for problems that had other causes.66 A vocal minority of the faculty argued that the problem was that the curriculum was not traditional and Catholic enough. Its manifesto, “A Proposal for the Fulfillment of Catholic Liberal Education,” became the founding document for a new Great Books college, Thomas Aquinas College (TAC), founded in 1971.
What Ronald McArthur and his fellow rebels from St. Mary’s did at TAC was to accept the fact that students would no longer be able to read the classics in the original, a lesson that had been very hard for the Jesuits to accept. It seems to me that despair over losing the original Ratio led the Jesuits to conclude that the sky was the limit on curricular change. TAC took the opposite view—since mastering Latin and Greek would not return, the content of the Ratio should be delivered in English.
The key curricular issue at TAC was: Would the curriculum follow a bi-level model or would it follow the Ratio and only have core? The college opted to follow the Jesuits and St. John’s—core and core alone. The next question was how to deliver this curriculum. Here TAC followed the St. John’s books curriculum, with the addition of Catholic doctrine. Vestiges of the Ratio abound. Under the Ratio’s humanities fall Latin (but only for two years) and “Seminar” (an eclectic four years of texts in literature, history, politics and modern philosophy). The Ratio’s philosophy is divided into four different four-year courses: in mathematics, science, philosophy (which means Aristotle) and theology (Thomas Aquinas).
The result is a fine updating in the spirit of the Jesuit Ratio. TAC’s curriculum has core, real books, doctrine and Catholicity. Integration is achieved in both the traditional Catholic ways, through theology and philosophy. TAC’s curriculum is resolutely and proudly not bi-level, which makes it like the Jesuit college and the medieval undergraduate school of Arts. It is for those uninterested in career preparation within undergraduate education, though it is clearly designed to provide its graduates a fine basis for graduate education elsewhere. For this reason, like St. John’s College, TAC will remain a minority option and cannot be the model for expanding John Paul II’s vision of an Ex corde Catholic institution from a small college to a larger university.
The Newman Guide lists other schools that attempt a Catholic Great Books curriculum. Notable among them is the University of Dallas (UD), founded in 1956 by laymen and a group of Cistercian educators who had escaped from Hungary during the Cold War. The curricular issue at Dallas was how to incorporate the Great Books into a curriculum divided into majors, and UD’s answer was to distribute their chosen list of Great Books among a set of required courses that are housed in the standard academic departments. This choice makes the Dallas curriculum bi-level, and shows the Great Books option offers real promise for larger universities. But Dallas does not yet have the size and breadth to prove the case.
The “Doctrinal” Catholic College
A second approach is exemplified by Christendom College, founded in Front Royal, Virginia, in 1977. Its core curriculum concentrates on delivering doctrine that is Catholic, but not tied to particular books. This is why I call this category of colleges “doctrinal.” Christendom’s curriculum devotes the first two years to 24 required courses, while the last two years are devoted primarily to the major. This makes the curriculum fully bi-level, which is the predominant model for The Newman Guide institutions.
The language requirement is a distribution component, but all other courses during the first two years are core courses housed in departments. Under the Ratio’s humanities fall the subjects of English, history, foreign language and political science. The math and science requirement is minimal. Distinctive are large cores in philosophy and theology. The curriculum at Christendom is nicely bi-level, core, doctrinal and Catholic. Integration is to be achieved in the traditional ways—through theology and philosophy—and these two requirements are large enough to do the job.
However, the curriculum is not a books curriculum. On this point, Christendom and TAC are point and counterpoint to each other, with UD lying between them. In addition, while the curriculum is technically bi-level, the small size of the college means only a small number of majors are offered, making it impossible for Christendom’s curriculum to be bi-level in a robust sense. While Christendom is a fine example of an Ex corde Catholic college, its small size prevents it from being the model for an Ex corde Catholic university.
Ex Corde Ecclesiae Catholic Universities?
Perhaps the most striking statement in The Newman Guide is that it recommends only one institution, The Catholic University of America (CUA), that is large enough (about 3,300 undergraduates) and with a substantial enough graduate school to count as a “university” according to contemporary standards. None of the largest American Catholic universities make the list.
One major reason for this fact is because institutions that have been the most successful according to the usual measures—size, endowment or prestige—have curricula that have suffered most from that very success. For size and wealth have brought pressure for specialization, multiplication of majors and especially development of graduate programs at previously undergraduate institutions, accomplished by imitating current practices at non-Catholic institutions. There also is the Ivy League syndrome, the desire to follow the elite American universities, even if that means following them down the path that in the nineteenth century transformed Protestant religious institutions into secular ones, a phenomenon well documented by Burtchaell. All of these factors have combined to bring pressure to bear against the traditional Catholic core.
On this point, Catholic University is the exception that proves the rule. Its history shows it to be out of the ordinary in almost every respect. CUA opened in 1887, as an American initiative in the neo-Thomistic revival begun with Leo XIII’s Aeterni patris (1879). It started as a purely graduate university devoted to serving the needs of the Church in America for graduate training, at a time when other Catholic institutions were undergraduate. To staff its schools of philosophy, theology and law, CUA turned to Europe for help and has maintained close connections there ever since.
So when it expanded into undergraduate studies, these ties led CUA to follow the older European university tradition of bi-level education, with a strong undergraduate core. Over time, administrators have remained attached to CUA’s European roots, in no small part because many of them were educated there. They have been more committed to core, and especially to philosophy within the core, owing in part to the fact that at CUA philosophy is a school, not a department.
During the era of post-Vatican II problems, CUA was affected mainly at the graduate level, as in the affair of Father Charles Curran, who led dissent from Humanae Vitae (1968). The removal of Father Curran from the theology faculty in 1986, by then Cardinal Ratzinger, had symbolic impact, the value of which cannot be denied. A more recent symbol was the choice by the same man, now Pope Benedict XVI, to speak at CUA, rather than another Catholic university. So the example of CUA underlines how serious is the problem at large Catholic universities, which thus far have shown themselves willing to follow their Protestant brethren down the road to secularization, offering clever but specious arguments in their defense.
* * *
This brief survey of the American situation yields important results. First, real progress toward “rekindling” the Catholic light has been made at some institutions. I have merely picked four examples, and The Newman Guide has not captured all the signs of progress; absent are improvements made in institutions that did not make its list. Second, what these schools have in common is that Catholic identity is central to their educational endeavors and has led them to the kind of curriculum found in the earlier Catholic university tradition, characterized by the six features outlined above—bi-level, core, doctrine, books, Catholic and integrated. These schools package these features in the traditional way, with core courses in the liberal arts, philosophy and theology. Third, if rekindling is to take hold, it next needs to move to medium and large Catholic universities. This is the challenge to which Benedict XVI responded in his Washington address in April 2008.
Enter Pope Benedict XVI
In his address to Catholic educators, Benedict called himself a “professor” and offered his audience a theological argument.67 Ever the realist, he courageously focused on the underlying but too often avoided existential question: Why have Catholic schools in the first place? He put the issue this way because “some today question the Church’s involvement in education, wondering whether her resources might be better placed elsewhere.”
“Some” here certainly includes leaders within the Church in America. The last of Benedict’s specific injunctions is directed expressly to them: “Here I wish to make a special appeal to Religious Brothers, Sisters, and Priests: do not abandon the school apostolate; indeed, renew your commitment to schools, especially those in poorer areas.” While many in the Vatican II generation may have closed their ears, their time is rapidly passing away and Benedict understands that younger religious and priests are listening to him closely.
In dialectical fashion, the “professor” himself raises the strongest objection. In a rich nation like the United States, “the state provides ample opportunities for education.” So should Catholic education fade away like the Catholic hospital? Benedict’s address is an extended argument in reply, supporting a fundamental conclusion: American Catholic colleges and universities are needed, but only if they exhibit a strong and vigorous sense of Catholic identity.
Benedict’s understanding of Catholic identity emerges gradually in his message, but for the sake of clarity I shall begin with it. For Benedict, Catholic identity is wide-ranging and comprehensive, including all the essential features of college or university life. At each step of his argument, he weaves together three related themes: how the individual cannot afford to ignore the wider community; how the good of the intellect is tied to the good of the will; and, above all, how reason cannot afford to ignore faith. He uses all three to explain Catholic identity because he is well aware of the temptation to reduce this complex reality to one of its parts.
He rejects the earlier neo-scholastic tendency to reduce Catholic identity to “orthodoxy of course content,” often confined to the departments of philosophy and theology, and the later tendency—widespread after concern for orthodoxy waned in the post-Vatican II period—to rest Catholic identity “upon statistics.” “A university or school’s Catholic identity is not simply a question of the number of Catholic students. It is a question of conviction,” that is, institutional conviction, not just personal choice. He asks, “Do we accept the truth Christ reveals? Is the faith tangible in our universities and schools?” Benedict advocates using many measures of Catholic identity, but understood as signs radiating from its center, the institutional conviction of the truth of the Catholic faith made tangible.
In support of Catholic identity, Benedict offers three distinct lines of argument, or “steps,” following his order of presentation. Step One: For the good of the Church, its colleges and universities should have a strong Catholic identity. Step Two: For the good of communities outside the Church, notably the wider civic good, Catholic colleges and universities should have a strong Catholic identity. Step Three: For the good of their own intellectual work, Catholic colleges and universities should have a strong Catholic identity.
Each of these steps involves consequences for the curriculum, some of which Benedict draws explicitly, while others are left implicit. What emerges from Benedict’s message is not a relaxing of standards in comparison with Ex corde Ecclesiae, but a strengthening of them. In response to current problems, Benedict’s comprehensive picture of Catholic identity entails a curriculum with the six traditional attributes featured above, one that involves some version of the liberal arts, as well as theology and philosophy. These steps should be considered in turn.
The Good of the Church
Crafted to his audience, Benedict’s argument begins outside, not inside, the schools: “Education is integral to the mission of the Church to proclaim the Good News.” This one terse sentence sums up the argument of Step One. Catholic colleges and universities are parts within a wider whole—the Church itself. Proclaiming the Gospel to humankind, that is, evangelization, is the fundamental function of the Church; this task absolutely requires education in a broad sense. No education, no evangelization, no Church. Since the part (the school) fits within the whole (the Church), it follows that the goals and activities of the part should serve the whole.
What links evangelization outside the school to teaching within it is what Benedict calls “the ministry (diakonia) of truth.” Benedict selects examples of evangelical truths that are directly relevant to teaching. “God’s revelation offers every generation the opportunity to discover the ultimate truth about its own life and the goal of history… guiding both teacher and student towards the objective truth which, in transcending the particular and the subjective, points to the universal and absolute.”
This first step in Benedict’s argument moves at the level of faith. If evangelization outside the Catholic school requires education, education within the Catholic school should open students to evangelization. He tells us, “First and foremost every Catholic educational institution is a place to encounter the living God who in Jesus Christ reveals his transforming love and truth.” Fostering this encounter requires Catholic identity in a strong sense of the term.
The Civic Good
Strong Catholic identity also contributes to “a nation’s fundamental aspiration to develop a society truly worthy of the human person’s dignity.” U.S. Catholics have proven their value in the public square, a value now widely acknowledged. “It comes as no surprise, then, that not just our own ecclesial communities but society in general has high expectations of Catholic educators,” he says.
As throughout his address, Benedict here accentuates the positive from the past and for the future while never understating the challenges. He continues: “The essential transcendent dimension of the human person,” traditionally taught in philosophy courses, offers the wider society “objectivity and perspective” to respond to a host of current problems: the “relativistic horizon” that fosters “a lowering of standards,” a “timidity” about the difference between good and evil, “aimless pursuit of novelty parading as the realization of freedom,” a flattening of values that assumes “every experience is of equal worth,” and finally, the “particularly disturbing” wholesale “reduction of the precious and delicate area of education in sexuality,” where, as Marx put it, “the human becomes animal and the animal human.”
But there is a catch here, since these lofty ideals also serve as standards for judging Catholic institutions. The college or university that does not teach the “transcendent dimension” and what it entails is one that lacks a strong Catholic identity and cannot justify its existence by contributing to the civic good. Father Brosnahan’s Boston College could pass this test, but that is no guarantee 110 years later.
The Intellectual Good
The focus of Benedict’s address concerns the heart of the university–the intellectual good of knowledge. Here the experience of the “professor,” who personally has lived through what he calls “the contemporary ‘crisis of truth’,” dovetails with his deep understanding of the Church’s university tradition. What results is a brief but luminous description of both problem and solution.
The problem originated in Europe and has spread round the globe, now affecting many “societies where secularist ideology drives a wedge between truth and faith.” Popularizers of this ideology abound—think of Richard Dawkins, Steven Pinker or the ACLU. But the problem is deep and can be envisioned using Descartes’ tree of knowledge. Descartes devoted himself to its metaphysical roots and scientific trunk; its branches and leaves had yet to develop. But today they now surround us: gigantic cities stretching up and out are the modern monuments of scientific engineering, our great hospitals are the emblems of scientific medicine, and we are surrounded with the results of scientific psychology, from television advertising to popular journalism to huge prisons unknown in earlier ages.
The intertwined growth of its branches, however, has affected the tree of knowledge itself, and not for the better. Benedict points to three problems of “secularism.” First, the “fragmentation” of knowledge means students and their teachers confine themselves to smaller and smaller parts of the whole, become swamped by specialization, and finally lose sight of the whole. Second, the lush growth of the sciences has led many “to adopt a positivistic mentality,” where knowledge is thought to progress in linear fashion, original myths and religions superceded by philosophy, which in turn was left in the dust by modern or “positive” science. Third, fragmentation and positivism have produced a “relativistic horizon” that undermines all claims to know the truth with certitude, both theoretical and practical.
On the theoretical side, “critical” thought, positivism and Derridean “deconstruction” have taken an axe to the tree’s metaphysical roots, so it has come crashing down, ushering in an era of hyper-critical “post-modernism.” On the practical side, scientific psychology has teamed up with scientific socialism and utilitarianism to teach “praxis creates truth,” a relativistic conclusion that has snapped branches overladen by their own weight, like a giant Southern live oak. In sum, for Benedict “secularist ideology” involves fragmentation, positivism, and relativism.
Since the problem originates in science and philosophy, Benedict expands his solution accordingly, to incorporate modern science and the traditional liberal arts, as well as philosophy and theology. His solution tracks the problem point for point. Distilled to one sentence, it is this: “With confidence, Christian educators can liberate the young from the limits of positivism and awaken receptivity to the truth, to God and his goodness.”
In response to “secularism” taken as a whole, Benedict counters with the “confidence” that comes from Catholic faith in Jesus Christ. As the incarnate logos of God, Christ is both God and man and therefore an appropriate emblem for the harmony between faith (which comes from God’s revelation) and human reason.
In response to fragmentation and positivism (the latter a term students do not know but a mindset that has captured American culture), Benedict responds with the “essential unity of knowledge against the fragmentation which ensues when reason is detached from the pursuit of truth.” This “unity” is found, not by reducing the various disciplines to one type—this is the positivist error—but through acquaintance with the full range of knowledge in all its variety. This is a large topic and Benedict does not tarry over the details.
As a sign pointing to the answer, he mentions “metaphysics” and “Catholic doctrine,” one of many names for theology. But it is doubtful these two disciplines, as important as they are, can do the job by themselves. His choice of the term “liberation” seems an intentional echo of the “liberal arts.” So the “unity of knowledge” seems to involve the full range of the disciplines, as present in the Catholic university tradition: from the linguistic arts to the arts and sciences and on to philosophy. “Receptivity to the truth” begins with rational truth, but then can expand to openness to revealed truth about God, in theology.
In response to relativism, Benedict points to “intellectual charity” which “guides the young towards the deep satisfaction of exercising freedom in relation to truth, and it strives to articulate the relationship between faith and all aspects of family and civic life. Once their passion for the fullness and unity of truth has been awakened, young people will surely relish the discovery that the question of what they can know opens up the vast adventure of what they ought to do.” An ethics that is rational but also open to knowledge coming from revelation, and an ethics that involves practice as well as theory, is what Benedict here offers in response. He says, “While we have sought diligently to engage the intellect of our young, perhaps we have neglected the will.” The remedy is that strong Catholic identity must involve Catholic practice as well as doctrine.
In sum, this third and most important step in Benedict’s argument is that only a strong Catholic identity in the Church’s American colleges and universities will offer an adequate response to the “contemporary ‘crisis of truth’.” It also underscores how thoroughly teleological Benedict’s overall reasoning is, for all three “steps” argue from end to means. If the good of the Church requires theology be part of “Catholic identity,” the good of civil society requires philosophy, and the good of knowledge requires science and the liberal arts be combined with theology and philosophy to produce a robust Catholic identity.
* * *
While the applications and examples Benedict uses in his argument are completely contemporary, the three steps in his overall teleological argument—the good of the Catholic faith, the good of civil society and the good of knowledge—build directly on earlier Catholic and papal doctrine, notably that of his predecessor Leo XIII.
Leo’s promotion of the thought of St. Thomas Aquinas is well known, but Benedict has built his Washington address on a less recognized feature of Leo’s Aeterni Patris, its three staged teleological argument: “While, therefore, We hold that every word of wisdom, every useful thing by whomsoever discovered or planned, ought to be received with a willing and grateful mind, We exhort you, venerable brethren, in all earnestness to restore the golden wisdom of St. Thomas, and to spread it far and wide for the defense and beauty of the Catholic faith, for the good of society, and for the advantage of all the sciences.”68
Curricular Conclusions
Many consequences for curriculum follow from Pope Benedict’s Washington message. In the course of his speech he only touches on curricular matters incidentally; but the main line of his argument offers wide-ranging support for the traditional Catholic university curriculum. And Benedict adds some specific injunctions directed to different groups at the end of the speech. One of these is a specific moral obligation concerning Catholicity: “Teachers and administrators, whether in universities or schools, have the duty and privilege to ensure that students receive instruction in Catholic doctrine and practice.” It seems appropriate, then, to arrange the curricular consequences of Benedict’s Washington speech under three headings: (a) Catholic doctrine; (b) Catholic practice; and (c) unity of knowledge.
Catholic Doctrine
The injunction to “teachers and administrators” is to “ensure”—that is, to require of students—“instruction in Catholic doctrine.” In an academic setting, instruction means courses, so this obligation is for courses in Catholic theology, crafted so as to support the truth “as found in the Gospel and upheld by the Church’s Magisterium.” The rapid growth of “Catholic studies” in Catholic institutions, as a response to perceived deficiencies in “religious studies” or theology departments, is a sign Benedict is responding to a felt need.
The numerous theological topics Benedict mentions range over three areas: doctrine, scripture and morality. A reasonable inference is that the minimum number of courses be three, because superficial instruction amounts to no instruction at all. But great variation in students, teachers and texts is the reason why such decisions are usually made locally. What is uppermost in Benedict’s mind, however, is absolutely clear: providing students the opportunity to encounter orthodox Catholic content presented in a serious and supportive way. This requirement implies a curriculum with several of the traditional features. To have a place for theology, in addition to “major,” the undergraduate curriculum must be bi-level, with a true core that mandates theology for all students, and not as a distribution component. At a minimum, theology in the core must be doctrinal and Catholic, a significant departure from current practice in many institutions.
Catholic Practice
Benedict’s injunction about Catholic “practice” shows his openness to innovation. Courses in moral theology or philosophical ethics would be appropriate, to be sure. But Benedict also seems to be looking for more. Beyond the school itself, he seems to advocate what are usually called “social service” (he might prefer “Catholic service”) requirements. Such “practices” can even be brought into the curriculum, when combined with reading and classroom discussion of books in the long Catholic tradition of social justice.
Equally important, on the “practice” side also fall the many social and moral problems affecting campuses themselves, problems teachers and administrators all too often are too timid to tackle: from speaker policies to overnight visitation in dorms, from gay and lesbian clubs to condoms to The Vagina Monologues, from discounted tuition to scholarships to endowment investment, to say nothing of drinking and driving. Institutions that provide a campus environment in accord with Catholic “practice” teach ethics by example, always the most effective way to do so. In short, this injunction strikes me as a revival of the medieval idea that students should be educated “in morals” as well as “sciences.” To the extent “Catholic practice” enters the curriculum, this requirement is a step in the direction of integration, through integrating Catholic theory with practice.
The Unity of Knowledge
The problem of the “essential unity of knowledge,” when put in curricular terms, is nothing other than the problem of integrating the curriculum. So the consequences for the curriculum that flow from Benedict’s argument based on the “unity of knowledge” are numerous and important.
Philosophy
The one philosophical discipline Benedict mentions by name is “metaphysics.” The traditional function of metaphysics in the curriculum, of course, concerns the existence and nature of God. Setting out “the division and methods of the sciences” is also a properly metaphysical task. Benedict turns to metaphysics as a direct reply to positivism. “Recognition of the essential transcendent dimension of the human person” is a topic treated in what is now often called “philosophy of the human person.” And an ethics that is philosophical but open to revelation is a hallmark of Catholic philosophy curricula.
It is hard to see how this much philosophical content can be presented in fewer than three core courses. Benedict’s argument readily lends itself to courses in metaphysics, ethics and the human person; but other ways of presenting this content are also possible. The effect of adding philosophy to theology requirements in order to achieve “Catholic identity” is to make the curriculum exhibit more fully the traditional features of being bi-level, core, doctrinal and Catholic. In addition, a metaphysical response to positivism necessarily promotes an integrated curriculum, in arguing that human knowledge itself is “integrated” or “unified.”
Far from abandoning the traditional roles of theology and philosophy in the curriculum, Benedict argues for their expansion in comparison with current common practice. And his way of arguing from end goals to curricular means undermines the current practice of turning the few remaining philosophy and theology requirements into non-standard electives bereft of consistent content. Such courses cannot ensure the ends of Church, civil society and knowledge itself are addressed.
The Liberal Arts
A great advantage of Pope Benedict’s mode of argument is that it promotes philosophy and theology, not by papal fiat or as isolated requirements, but by putting them into their real context, the larger whole he calls the “essential unity of knowledge.” This “unity” involves three points. First, Benedict rejects the positivist rejection of non-scientific disciplines; there is knowledge beyond the limits of the scientific method. Second, Benedict recognizes that truths acquired in the various disciplines can exist in harmony or “unity” with each other, even if our contemporaries have despaired for this unity. Third, Benedict realizes there is a hierarchy among disciplines, because there is a hierarchy among truths, all stemming ultimately from Truth itself as found in God.
An unstructured curriculum is but another sign of the false sense of freedom Benedict rejects. So the first curricular conclusion here is that Catholic identity requires core beyond theology and philosophy, spread over some variety of disciplines, as the necessary base for a humane and religious intellectual life.
Acquainting students with all disciplines and all world traditions and all the great books is impossible. For a curriculum that is bi-level and has core, there must be a canon, choices must be made among disciplines, books and authors. Here the traditionalist may immediately turn to the humanistic subjects that have had a preponderant place in the Catholic teaching of the liberal arts, to the neglect of modern science and its offshoot, the social sciences. Benedict’s teleological argument, by contrast, is not taken from a history some educators have rejected, but from what the various disciplines can accomplish—their ends.
Even when most successful, each discipline succeeds in capturing only part of the complexity of truth, which is why over the centuries humans have invented a variety of ways of knowing. Such large-minded wisdom is the antithesis of small-minded positivism. A second conclusion, then, is that a Catholic core curriculum should include a selection of disciplines (or authors or books) that cover the range of ways of knowing reality, both for the sake of seeing its diversity, and also to see the “unity” that lies on the other side of diversity.
This second conclusion immediately generates the next question: What disciplines must be included? The reason the linguistic studies of the medieval trivium and the mathematics of the quadrivium were core is because they are skills courses providing the “language” of thought—both literary language and mathematical language—that makes possible knowledge gained in the higher disciplines. Deficiencies in these basic skills are the primary complaint “marketplace practitioners” have about American education, problems brought on where specialization trumps general education. So such “arts” should still be mandated in a “Catholic core.”
The remaining terrain—the vast expanse of specialties and sub-specialties—is huge, but Benedict helps us negotiate it by using the classic distinction between theory, whose task is to explain the world, and practice, whose task is to act in it. All students must be given the opportunity to see that the kind of theoretical knowledge achieved in literature or physics is not the same kind as the practical knowledge in ethics or finance or engineering, and that one cannot supplant the other.
On the theoretical side, the curriculum should show the student that explanations in humanities like literature or history or fine arts, which “portray” individuals in ways that implicitly or explicitly carry universal messages, are different from “sciences” (whether ancient or modern), that explicitly articulate universal messages (through principles, or laws, theories or equations) covering a multitude of individual cases. And students should see that practical disciplines are different still, because designed to produce individual and corporate actions. There is no algorithm for determining the exact mixture of skills courses, humanities, theoretical sciences and practical disciplines the curriculum requires. This is why traditions, once put in place, tend to last. But what is clear on Benedict’s argument is that a sufficient and organized sample should be required, in order for students to see “the essential unity of knowledge.”
Benedict’s argument requires some set of “liberal arts” in a “Catholic core,” for two reasons. First, the liberal arts highlight the different, but legitimate, modes of knowing—a lesson directly contrary to all reductionisms, especially positivism. Second, the liberal arts also show the diverse disciplines cohere together as an ordered whole, both in comparison with each other and by pointing beyond themselves, to philosophy, which articulates that order, and to theology, which shows the ultimate source of that order.
A curriculum that exhibits both the diversity and unity of knowledge must have the six traditional traits. In order for such a curriculum to teach the “essential unity of knowledge” it must be integrated, which in turn requires that it also be bi-level, core, doctrinal, Catholic and—I would also add, though this is less obvious—a books curriculum. If not, the curriculum will not be able to achieve the ends of supporting Church, civil society and knowledge itself.
While these six criteria certainly validate a curriculum whose liberal arts follow Catholic tradition that is heavy to humanities, giving less weight to modern “science” and “social science”—as do many of The Newman Guide colleges—they also can provide standards for Catholic identity apart from that traditional course structure, even for a curriculum that strikes out in very new directions with a non-traditional conception of “liberal arts,” perhaps one weighted much more toward modern science.
In similar fashion, I believe Benedict’s argument certainly supports a more traditional liberal arts curriculum; but it is also open to innovations about what should count as liberal arts, subject to an important caveat. Any new liberal arts must perform their central task of “liberating” the mind to see the unity as well as the diversity of the various modes of knowing, thereby opening the student to philosophy and ultimately theology.
Interdisciplinary Studies
If the multiplicity of intellectual disciplines has produced the problem of the “crisis of truth,” it stands to reason that moving through multiplicity to unity is the answer. Pope Benedict certainly advocates turning to the disciplines that make up the traditional Catholic liberal arts. But there is a second alternative to disciplinary study of the liberal arts—interdisciplinary studies—that have grown as another way to overcome the “fragmentation” Benedict finds such a problem. John Paul II clearly recognized both the promise and the problems interdisciplinary studies present, in the way he recommended them in Ex corde, para. 20:
While each discipline is taught systematically and according to its own methods, interdisciplinary studies, assisted by a careful and thorough study of philosophy and theology, enable students to acquire an organic vision of reality and to develop a continuing desire for intellectual progress.
Examples of non-departmental “core” programs abound, but they do not play a major role in the curriculum of The Newman Guide schools. John Paul II’s idea of using interdisciplinary studies, combined with philosophy and theology, seems to me quite consistent with Benedict’s vision of Catholic identity.
Academic Freedom
From Benedict’s comprehensive conception of Catholic identity comes another injunction that concerns the curriculum, one directed toward faculty: “I wish to reaffirm the great value of academic freedom. In virtue of this freedom you are called to search for the truth wherever careful analysis of evidence leads you. Yet it is also the case that any appeal to the principle of academic freedom in order to justify positions that contradict the faith and the teaching of the Church would obstruct or even betray the university’s identity and mission.” Here he rejects an absolutist conception of academic freedom that derives from faculty foreshortening their gaze to self or discipline, to the detriment of the greater good of the university itself and, beyond that, the “unity of knowledge.”
Such a cramped view of the freedom to pursue one’s discipline is but part of the broader “contemporary ‘crisis of knowledge’.” It can indeed lead to the perception that there is a contradiction between discipline and Catholicism; but Benedict is confident that in the long run there will be no real contradiction. What seeming contradictions invariably uncover is error, such as the error of positivism; and to hold that academic freedom means the freedom to espouse what is false is a direct assault, not just on the “unity of knowledge,” but on knowledge itself. Faculty, as well as students, can have a confused notion of freedom. “Catholic identity,” in short, has absolutely no obligation to give way to error.
Prospects
Benedict’s Washington address coheres nicely with the lessons that come from Catholic university history and from the current state of American Catholic colleges and universities. Neither the medieval university nor the Jesuit Ratio nor the contemporary Freewheeling American university provides a detailed blueprint for every feature of a contemporary institution with strong Catholic identity. We need the virtue of prudence to shape principle to problem and circumstance. Let us recognize that graduate courses are no longer confined to theology, law and medicine, Latin is no longer spoken in the classroom and Jane Austen is unfamiliar to many undergraduates.
But on the other side, it is simply shallow nominalism to call an education “Catholic” that does not require Augustine’s Confessions or Dante’s Comedy, housed within a core curriculum devoted in part to the “liberal arts,” philosophy and theology. The six features of the curriculum that history shows are central to the Catholic university tradition are worth preserving because they lie at the very heart of a Catholic college or university. So far as I can tell, history, current good practice and now Pope Benedict XVI all point in the same direction. The next model for the Catholic university, as well as the Catholic college, will be the Ex corde model already emerging at some Catholic colleges. Staffed by professionals, it will include a curriculum that will be bi-level, core, books, doctrinal, Catholic and integrated. I think I see it developing, but time will tell.
Patrick Reilly’s Speech to the Catholic Citizens of Illinois
/in Blog Latest/by Patrick ReillyAddress to the Catholic Citizens of Illinois
Patrick J. Reilly
President, The Cardinal Newman Society
Given May 9, 2008 in Chicago, Illinois
Thank you, Mary Anne, members of Catholic Citizens of Illinois, and good friends of The Cardinal Newman Society.
I am thrilled to be back in Chicago and to be with all of you, especially in what is shaping up to be an extraordinary year for American Catholics and for Catholic educators.
We started the year anticipating Pope Benedict’s visit to the United States, and the exciting news that he had summoned every Catholic college president in the U.S. to a meeting at The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C.
The Holy Father did not disappoint. Three weeks ago on April 17, Pope Benedict delivered a challenge to the college presidents and to diocesan educators that I am certain will have a significant impact on Catholic education in this country.
The Masses, the Holy Father’s address to seminarians and young people, the meeting with the bishops, the United Nations address, the visit to Ground Zero – all of these, I am sure, were opportunities for grace and important steps toward the evangelization of the West that Pope Benedict so eagerly seeks.
But, in terms of long-term impact on the Church in the United States, I submit to you that the Holy Father accomplished two important things:
First, he brought us a long way toward what resolution is possible regarding sexual abuse by some of our Catholic priests. He set an example of genuine compassion for the victims that will, I hope, characterize the American bishops’ response as we go forward.
Second, he restored the renewal of Catholic education to the top of the agenda for the Church in America, where it was briefly prior to the sex abuse scandals.
But more on this in a moment.
There is another reason this year is so exciting for the Church and for Catholic education – and that is the likelihood that the great English convert and author of The Idea of a University, John Henry Cardinal Newman, will be beatified before the year ends.
It is Newman’s thought that underlies much of Ex corde Ecclesiae, the apostolic constitution for Catholic higher education issued by Pope John Paul II in 1990, which lays out minimal standards for Catholic colleges.
It is also Newman’s thought which nicely coincides with the vision for Catholic education presented by our new professor-pope, Benedict XVI, in his address on April 17.
The Holy Father makes the argument that today there is a great “crisis of truth,” and it is rooted in a “crisis of faith.” As the West continues to secularize, faith is increasingly viewed as contrary to reason and truth. But Jesus Christ is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Faith in Christ, Pope Benedict reminds us, is the only sure way to essential truths about God and His creation which cannot be attained only by observation, no matter how rigorous the method and the reasoning.
Even before April, Pope Benedict over the past year has repeatedly referred to an “educational emergency” in the West,lamenting the loss of hope among many young people because they do not know the truth about God and man as His creation.
This is more than the theme of one or more papal addresses. It appears to be the central theme of this papacy, and of Pope Benedict’s priesthood.
When Joseph Ratzinger was named Archbishop of Munich and Freising in 1977, he chose as his episcopal motto “Cooperators of the Truth”. He explained: “On the one hand I saw it as the relation between my previous task as professor and my new mission. In spite of different approaches, what was involved, and continued to be so, was following the truth and being at its service. On the other hand I chose that motto because in today’s world the theme of truth is omitted almost entirely, as something too great for man, and yet everything collapses if truth is missing.”
Compare that to Cardinal Newman’s dispute with what he called “physical philosophers” in 19th-century England. These secularists trusted only those truths that are discovered by observation and the scientific method, and they rejected truths that are revealed by God, and therefore the understanding of those truths that human reasoning yields through the practice of theology. They scoffed at Newman’s argument that theology is central to any legitimate university’s search for truth in all areas of knowledge.
Newman writes in The Idea of a University:
“[N]o wonder, then, that [these “physical philosophers”] should be irritated and indignant to find that a subject-matter remains still, in which their favorite instrument [observation and inductive reasoning] has no office; no wonder that they rise up against this memorial of an antiquated system, as an eyesore and an insult; and no wonder that the very force and dazzling success of their own method in its own departments [of science] should sway or bias unduly the religious sentiments of any persons who come under its influence. They assert that no new truth can be gained by deduction; Catholics assent, but add, that, as regards religious truth, they have not to seek at all, for they have it already.” (Newman,The Idea of a University, p. 223-224)
In Newman’s time 150 years ago, as Pope Benedict observes in our own day, the “crisis of truth” was rooted in a “crisis of faith.” Newman writes:
“The Rationalist makes himself his own center, not his Maker; he does not go to God, but he implies that God must come to him. And this, it is to be feared, is the spirit in which multitudes of us act at the present day. Instead of looking out of ourselves, and trying to catch glimpses of God’s workings, from any quarter—throwing ourselves forward upon Him and waiting on Him, we sit at home bringing everything to ourselves, enthroning ourselves in our own views, and refusing to believe anything that does not force itself upon us as true.” (Newman, Essays Critical and Historical, Vol. 1, p. 33-34)
Doesn’t this remind us of contemporary academia? As teaching and knowledge become increasingly fragmented… as genuine academic discourse on our college campuses gives way to advocacy and power politics and the tyranny of political correctness… as both students and professors feed on opinions and advocacy rather than exploring truth in an objective manner… the intelligentsia of America increasingly is, as Newman describes it, enthroned in their own views and refusing to believe anything that does not force itself upon them as true.
It is a “crisis of truth” rooted in a “crisis of faith.” And by confronting this fundamental problem in Western academia, Pope Benedict on April 17 moved one step beyond the Church’s minimal expectations—which are still very much disputed in the United States—and toward an agenda for the complete renewal of Catholic education.
I have heard very good people express disappointment in the Holy Father’s April 17 address. They hoped for a scolding of the presidents of wayward Catholic colleges—a scolding that all of us here know is well-deserved, but which is not the style of Pope Benedict XVI. The complaints also note that not once, in Pope Benedict’s entire address, does he mention Ex corde Ecclesiae, although he certainly echoes and endorses its key themes.
I wondered at this myself, but upon reflection I see the genius in it. After weeks of media speculation that Pope Benedict might “bring down the hammer” on the college presidents, many of them arrived at The Catholic University of America braced for it, and probably ready to once again dispute the mandatum or the appropriate number of Catholic faculty or the virtues of dissent in Catholic theology courses.
For the Vatican, though, Ex corde Ecclesiae was the final word on those issues. It is still very much the law of the Church and ought to be implemented. But rather than engage impetuous American educators on minimal standards 18 years after Ex corde Ecclesiae was issued, Pope Benedict struck at the heart of secularization, and his words must have pierced the hearts of many of the college presidents whose own personal crises of truth and faith are too often reflected in their policies and public statements.
The “crisis of truth” is rooted in a “crisis of faith”—from this key insight, Pope Benedict develops a vision for Catholic education that I can only summarize briefly today. I encourage all of you to read the complete address, which is posted at the Cardinal Newman Society’s website at www.CardinalNewmanSociety.org. If you prefer, you can write or call and we’ll be happy to send a hard copy.
To put it simply, Pope Benedict argues that it is the special privilege and obligation of Catholic education to unite faith and reason, and to teach both observed truth and that which is revealed by God. But faith is not just understood, it is lived. Therefore the Holy Father insists that in addition to orthodoxy—and not instead of it, as some college presidents have tried to distort the Pope’s meaning—Catholic identity of schools and colleges “demands and inspires much more: namely that each and every aspect of your learning communities reverberates within the ecclesial life of faith. Only in faith can truth become incarnate and reason truly human, capable of directing the will along the path of freedom.”
Catholic academic institutions, therefore, are not focused only on the intellect, but bear responsibility for the spiritual development of their students, even and perhaps especially at the college level.
Again, Pope Benedict says:
“A particular responsibility therefore for each of you, and your colleagues, is to evoke among the young the desire for the act of faith, encouraging them to commit themselves to the ecclesial life that follows from this belief. It is here that freedom reaches the certainty of truth. In choosing to live by that truth, we embrace the fullness of the life of faith which is given to us in the Church.”
Faith, then, is both at the root of Catholic education and its product. A Catholic education that acknowledges the unity of faith and reason opens the student’s mind and heart to God. It invites an entirely different way of observing reality, full of hope in the promises of Christ.
Contrast this to the typical approach of many Catholic colleges today. They assert Catholic identity because they have historical ties to religious orders, they offer Catholic-oriented courses not often available elsewhere, they have a dedicated Catholic campus ministry, perhaps some Catholic artwork.
But what Pope Benedict requires is so much more: An intellectual journey into the life of faith. He says that “first and foremost” educators should provide students “a place to encounter the living God who in Jesus Christ reveals his transforming love and truth.”
So how does this get translated into practical change for Catholic colleges by leaders who share the Holy Father’s vision and courage? A few thoughts:
Moral relativism: Pope Benedict perceives that the “crisis of truth” is rooted in a “crisis of faith.” The solution to moral relativism in Catholic colleges begins with the conviction of faith, most importantly among Catholic theology professors.
For many colleges and universities, this calls for replacing many officials, faculty and staff with others who share Pope Benedict’s vision—starting from the top, and replacing tenured professors over the long term. It requires trustees who will support “hiring for mission” even when challenged by disgruntled professors and interfering secularists like the American Association of University Professors.
Publicly disclosing which faculty members have the mandatum—a formal recognition from the local bishop that a theologian intends to teach authentic Catholic doctrine—would help students choose genuine Catholic theology courses.
Disintegrated curriculum: Restoring rigorous core requirements that were once the hallmark of Catholic higher education would teach what Pope Benedict calls the “unity of truth.” In particular, Pope Benedict says that Catholic colleges “have the duty and privilege to ensure that students receive instruction in Catholic doctrine and practice”—which to my reading calls for Catholic theology courses for every student. The best Catholic colleges graduate students with an understanding of the Catholic intellectual tradition including theology, ethics and philosophy—and a healthy dose of the liberal arts.
Intellectual anarchy: Perhaps most important to the reform of American colleges, Pope Benedict calls on educators to reject limitless academic freedom—now sacrosanct within most of American academia—explaining that “any appeal to the principle of academic freedom in order to justify positions that contradict the faith and the teaching of the Church would obstruct or even betray the university’s identity and mission.”
This means insisting that professors limit their teaching and public advocacy to areas of their own expertise, without wading in to moral issues that are properly reserved to the theological disciplines. It also means that academic freedom does not justify a Catholic college or university endorsing or simply providing resources and facilities to advance views contrary to Catholic teaching—with clear implications for The Vagina Monologues and political rallies for pro-abortion politicians on Catholic campuses.
Moral decline on campus: Pope Benedict calls for fidelity to Catholic teaching “both inside and outside the classroom.” He also laments the common approach to sexuality that emphasizes “management of ‘risk,’ bereft of any reference to the beauty of conjugal love.” Catholic college officials can build a Christian campus culture by reclaiming responsibility for helping students’ spiritual and personal development and consistently encouraging chastity.
I have gone too long, and yet I have only begun to consider the implications of this important vision which Pope Benedict has presented to our Catholic college presidents and diocesan officials, with an implicit challenge to restore a commitment to faith and truth in Catholic education. As you read the full address, which I hope you will do, I welcome your correspondence and your own insights.
The renewal of Catholic education is an enormous challenge, but we can hope in the power of the Holy Spirit, and in the many signs of renewal that is already underway. For me, Pope Benedict’s address at The Catholic University of America was akin to raising Moses’ staff on the mountain while the battle rages below. We have a real struggle before us, but with the assurance of our Holy Father’s leadership and God’s grace.
And more than ever, we should pray for Cardinal Newman’s intercession. I will end with a final quote from Newman relevant to the project that Newman began 150 years ago and continues today:
“…[T]his is our hour, whatever be its duration, the hour for great hopes, great schemes, great efforts, great beginnings… to recommence the age of Universities.”
Reflections on Pope Benedict XVI’s Address to Catholic Educators
/in Mission and Governance Mission and Catholic Identity, Research and Analysis/by Guest ContributorThis special publication of The Center for the Study of Catholic Higher Education is issued in the wake of Pope Benedict XVI’s visit to the United States. It is designed
to provide reflections on his historic April 17, 2008 meeting with Catholic college presidents and diocesan education officials.
Contents:
Truth and Freedom in the Catholic University
By Dr. Brennan Pursell
A Mission of Hope
By Reverend Charles Sikorsky, LC
Small Is Still Beautiful—And the Font of Hope
By Jeffrey O. Nelson
“Were Not Our Hearts Burning As He Spoke?”
By Jeffrey J. Karls
Thoughts From the President of a New College
By Father Robert W. Cook
Text of the Address to Catholic Educators
By His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI
Truth and Freedom in the Catholic University
By Dr. Brennan Pursell
No one should be surprised that Pope Benedict XVI, during his meeting with Catholic educators, did not utter the words “Ex corde Ecclesiae” and “mandatum.” The Holy Father, himself a former professor, came as a leader, a guide and a shepherd, not as a controlling, bureaucratic administrator. His speech at The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C., was vintage Ratzinger: clear and concise, yet dense and thought provoking.
The text stands firmly in line with scripture, tradition, the works of his predecessor and his own corpus. He complimented his audience members where praise was due, but laid out in no uncertain terms what the challenges are and the main ideas behind them. The Holy Father’s view of the situation is as realistic as it is inspiring. I expect he hopes that faculties and administrators across the country will use his speech as the departure point for numerous, substantive discussions about their university’s identity and mission.
In brief, he exhorted the assembled presidents of American Catholic colleges and universities to make sure that their institutions are today akin to what universities were when they first appeared in the High Middle Ages: communities of scholars and students in search of truth, through reasoned dialogue and analysis of evidence. Everything else about them–student life, sports, administration, et al–is merely supportive or peripheral.
From a faculty perspective, the most problematic word in the definition above is also the most vital, but truth should make no one nervous. It is a sign of the times that faculty usually fall silent and sometimes begin to squirm at the mention of truth, goodness and beauty, especially with regards to mission statements and “learning outcomes.” “You can’t assess those things” is the common retort, or even one hears the relativist mantra, “Everyone has their own truth.” But while people certainly have their own minds, it cannot be that there are five or six billion truths, most of which would be in total opposition to the others. No, we are all united in the common experience of humanity; the truth of simple reality is what undergirds our existence.
No one “has” the truth. It is an infinite mystery, not a mere possession. It is certainly the case that truth in its totality can never be reduced to assessable “learning outcomes,” which are a bureaucratic necessity in our day and age. We must make do with them until they go by the wayside, but in the scholarly enterprise, we must always aspire to something greater. The inherent limits of assessment metrics are no reason to abandon the search for truth in our university communities! Truth is a path, a way of life, and as Catholic educators we must strive to lead our students toward it.
The other main concern some faculty members will inevitably raise against clear statements of commitment to truth in the university setting is, unfortunately, the inviolability of academic freedom. But this is a contemporary and common misconception of the notion of liberty. It is a truism that liberty without limits is merely license. Every single one of us learns from our families that no freedom is totally unrestricted, except for silent thought.
Academic freedom, which is the best environment for the search for truth through dialogue, should allow for anyone, in speech or in writing, to voice any question whatsoever. The ability to question is a quintessentially human trait, and it should be granted total freedom. Questioners show themselves open to correction and willing to persevere in dialogue. To make a statement, however, is another matter.
In the United States, it is not permissible in public settings to deny the Holocaust, deride another person on the basis of race or gender, make sexual innuendos that induce a “hostile” work environment or disturb the peace. Some of the richest and most “liberal” universities in the country have offices and staff members devoted to protecting certain groups from hearing statements, and even questions, that they find objectionable. At Catholic institutions of higher learning, aspects of the Catholic faith should receive similar protection. Statements, declarations, exhibitions and performances that denigrate the Church and all things holy are simply unacceptable. They stifle dialogue. Measures to guard against them are reasonable and not intolerant. Faith needs protection from slander, but not from questions.
Faith stimulates reason and elevates it. Faith allows us to see the unitive nature of truth, goodness and beauty, and the mysterious person who embodies them. Faith provokes good questions. It demands “why,” beyond the “how much,” “what,” “where,” “when” and “how.” All such questions are part of the great and timeless search for truth.
At the start of his pontificate, John Paul II told the faithful, “Be not afraid!” After the great Pope’s death, Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger began his homily at the funeral Mass with the words, “Follow me.” May all faculty, students, staff and administrators at Catholic institutions of higher learning hear and heed Pope Benedict XVI. There is no reason why we should not. He is as qualified and brilliant as any number of us put together. And there is nothing to fear.
Dr. Brennan Pursell is an Associate Professor of History at DeSales University and a Newman Fellow of The Center for the Study of Catholic Higher Education. His new book, Benedict of Bavaria: An Intimate Portrait of the Pope and His Homeland (Circle Press), was published in March 2008.
A Mission of Hope
By Reverend Charles Sikorsky, LC
In his address to Catholic educators, Pope Benedict harmonized his thoughts on education with the general theme of his visit to the United States, “Christ our Hope.” Specifically, he focused on the relationship between truth and hope. He made this point near the beginning of his address when he said, “Set against personal struggles, moral confusion and fragmentation of knowledge, the noble goals of scholarship and education, founded on the unity of truth and in service of the person and the community, become an especially powerful instrument of hope.” In order for our institutions to fulfill their calling to be instruments of hope, the Holy Father challenged us to focus on mission, conviction and love.
First, he emphasized the crucial role that Catholic education plays in the Church’s mission to evangelize. Much more than simply developing the intellectual capacity of students, Catholic institutions are called to help their students discover and accept the truth in a way that has consequences for their lives. Contact with the truth should move the will so that students live and experience more fully the joy and challenge of following Christ and of becoming His witnesses to the world.
Second, the Holy Father stressed that the Catholic identity of an institution is fundamentally a question of conviction and faith. Are we really convinced by Christ? Do we really believe that a vibrant life of faith is necessary for our institutions to flourish? The answers to these questions define who we are and whether we offer a real alternative to non-Catholic institutions.
It must be noted that the much-awaited address was made not only to university presidents, but also to the superintendents of catholic schools at the diocesan level. Most likely for that reason the Holy Father did not specifically mention John Paul II’s apostolic constitution on Catholic universities, Ex corde Ecclesiae, or its General Norms. The point of the address was broader, giving insight into Benedict’s thinking on Catholic identity for Catholic educational institutions at all levels.
Even so, the address was helpful to understand Benedict’s view of what a Catholic university should be. His mention that Catholic identity goes beyond statistics and doctrinal orthodoxy puts the legal norms of Ex corde into their proper perspective. Those norms, such as the need for the university president to be Catholic, the requirement that majorities of faculty and governing boards be Catholic and the necessity of the mandatum for theology professors, need to be understood as a starting point. To be a truly Catholic university, the institution must strive for much more than this.
According to Benedict, it must be a place where conviction leads to a faith that reverberates in each and every aspect of university life. It must be a place “to encounter the living God who in Jesus Christ reveals his transforming love and truth,” and where personal encounter with Christ, knowledge and Christian witness come together “to ensure that the power of God’s truth permeates every dimension” of the institution. In short, the root of the crisis of truth in today’s world is a crisis of faith. If a Catholic university seeks to be part of the solution to that crisis, it must be a place where faith is vibrant and alive.
Speaking specifically to faculty members at Catholic colleges and universities, Benedict’s treatment of academic freedom, one of the most important and tendentious issues facing many Catholic universities, was also revealing. Like John Paul II in Ex corde Ecclesiae, Benedict recognizes the value of academic freedom and the call to “search for the truth wherever careful analysis of evidence leads you.” At the same time the Holy Father pointed out that appeal to academic freedom in order to justify positions contrary to the teachings of the Church cannot be justified. Such a use would be antithetical to the university’s identity and mission. While we should purposefully and joyfully pursue the truth, we are called to accept the whole and integral truth, whether we find it through reason or God’s Revelation as communicated through the Church’s Magisterium.
Finally, it struck me that the Holy Father sees the educator’s responsibility to lead others to the truth as a requirement of love. He called it “intellectual charity.” What a beautiful way to synthesize the mission and vocation of Catholic education! It brings to mind St. Bernard’s famous quote:
“There are some people who want to know only so as to know. This is misguided curiosity. Others want to know in order to be known. This is misguided vanity. Others want to know in order to sell their knowledge, for example, for money or for honors. This is misguided profit. But there are others who want to know in order to build. This is charity.”
At the Institute for the Psychological Sciences we are committed to serving our students and the Church with the “intellectual charity” to which Benedict and St. Bernard referred. Without question his address is a stimulus for us to develop and be nurtured from the heart of the Church. As a Catholic graduate school of psychology offering master- and doctoral-level degrees, our mission is to harmonize the scientific advances of modern psychology with the Christian vision of the human person.
While our program is empirically driven by wherever the finest scholarship leads us, it is always guided by the truth about the human person and within the moral framework proposed by the Church. As Benedict mentioned in Washington, truth should serve as the basis of praxis. This approach enriches the discipline and practice of psychology by respecting the transcendent destiny of each person, by understanding the relationship between freedom and responsibility, and by seeing virtue, faith and moral convictions as indispensable to the healing process and true human flourishing.
For us and for all Catholic educational institutions, achieving the high goals mentioned by the Holy Father is certainly a challenge, but it is also an opportunity. This is an opportunity to grow, to heal a hurting world and to become instruments of hope.
Father Charles Sikorsky, LC, JD, JCL, is President of the Institute for the Psychological Sciences, Arlington, Virginia.
Small is Still Beautiful—And the Font of Hope
By Jeffrey O. Nelson
As with so many of Pope Benedict’s statements and writings, his recent “Address to Catholic Educators” at The Catholic University of America is hard to paraphrase, since in itself it is so compact, dense with insight and rich with provocations for further thought. When one searches for telling quotations for inclusion in an essay, the number of phrases worth repeating and considering simply piles up—until at last you are tempted simply to reprint the entire document. Instead, I will do my best to reflect in brief on the parts of his message that seem most pertinent to my own role as the leader of a small Catholic liberal arts college.
He said, “First and foremost every Catholic educational institution is a place to encounter the living God who in Jesus Christ reveals his transforming love and truth (cf. Spe Salvi, 4).” A central truth, and yet one that it is all too easy to forget, particularly when the daily task entails managing an institution, planning budgets, juggling numbers, raising funds and organizing all the necessary but seemingly impersonal aspects of any going concern.
Yet, this statement of Pope Benedict is so important it might be worth putting onto a plaque that sits on my desk—the reminder that amidst all the noble abstractions and the reams of information which students must master in various fields, their task is also starkly simple: Learning the Truth by meeting a Person. A person who does not just speak the truth—like many prophets and philosophers—but One Who simply, mysteriously embodies the Truth, or better, is the Truth embodied.
His actions as well as His words, the shape of Whose life and death and return to life limns out for our deepest reflection the Truth itself. Since each of us is the image of God, every encounter with a student who—however imperfectly—comes to us in search of the beautiful and the true is, conversely, helping to create another encounter with Christ. Thus, in every honest academic dialogue, in some sense, Christ speaks to Christ.
But to quote the Bible, “What is truth?” Pope Benedict answers this perhaps waggish, perhaps even sarcastic question: “Truth means more than knowledge: knowing the truth leads us to discover the good. Truth speaks to the individual in his or her entirety, inviting us to respond with our whole being…. Far from being just a communication of factual data — ‘informative’ — the loving truth of the Gospel is creative and life-changing—performative” (cf. Spe Salvi, 2). This assertion condenses in a very few words a crucial distinction upon which we as Catholic educators must insist—not only over against the technocrats in secular institutions—but also against the “inner technocrat” with which most of us must contend as moderns.
Having grown up in a civilization that has willfully turned away from ultimate questions—supposedly for the sake of peaceful coexistence—we encounter an internal resistance to such a lofty conception of our task as teachers. We grow up prematurely jaded, and must spend our maturing years recovering the innocence of youth, the phase of life that naively, but correctly, believes that ideas (wrong ones or right ones) change the world; and that mind is the master of matter. How much more true this becomes when we think with the mind of the Church, which partakes in the Logos that pervades and orders creation. By meditating on this, we can with time, become “young” enough to serve our students.
Then Pope Benedict hits us with this: “When nothing beyond the individual is recognized as definitive, the ultimate criterion of judgment becomes the self and the satisfaction of the individual’s immediate wishes.” This statement should sting, since it cuts across the grain of nearly every aspect of our contemporary culture—from the craze for self-assertion that permeates the blogosphere to the proliferation of electives in our colleges.
Our entire economy, it might be argued, rests on the “the satisfaction of the individual’s immediate wishes,” and the process of globalization consists in bringing this alternative “gospel” to the poor. Perhaps this tendency is the one we will find most challenging to our students, most of whom have grown up without any reason ever to question this premise. Only the beauty of truthful teaching, of leadership bravely exercised with respect for human dignity, can help tug at this veil that obscures the vision of Truth from the eyes of the young who hunger for it.
With his professorial clarity, Pope Benedict digs deeper than ideology or economics, to hit the nub of the modern disorder: “Yet we all know, and observe with concern, the difficulty or reluctance many people have today in entrusting themselves to God. It is a complex phenomenon and one which I ponder continually. While we have sought diligently to engage the intellect of our young, perhaps we have neglected the will.”
Subsequently we observe, with distress, the notion of freedom being distorted. Freedom is not an opting out. It is an opting in—a participation in Being itself.” Not just the intellect, but the will—the essence of our freedom, the nexus of choice, the part of ourselves which is so mysterious that our brain scientists try to argue it away. It is in the will that the self says “I will” or “I will not.” Serviam or non serviam.
The almost mystical reality we face as educators is the fact that we must help to train our students’ wills while leaving them free. It is not for us to go further than God, Who leaves each of us with the final say—or nay-say—for our soul. But that does not mean we can simply shrug and watch our charges stumble through error into evil; that way has been tried for a generation at Catholic colleges, and we have all seen where it leads. While we might not legally stand any longer in loco parentis, and while our mission calls us to lead in the formation of the mind, we still retain moral responsibility for doing all we can to form and purify young people’s wills and to uplift their souls.
In an age of bigness, when our youth stand as isolated and seemingly insignificant individuals before the modern behemoth university, this is best done in small scale educational communities, where the individual intellect can be engaged and the individual will can be challenged with the truth. In small communities it is still possible to do this daily, with specific regard for each human person. The order of love reposes on specific knowledge of each specific person within the community. We must ask ourselves, is such knowledge, and thus such love, possible at the behemoth university?
Yet even within small communities, the world is ever with us. Wherever and whenever we engage the person, it must be done against the backdrop of a culture which discourages even self- (much less external) control and worships the colossal, the powerful and the impersonal. Truly, the only “hope” for us is the Hope that began the entire enterprise of Catholic education—which, it is worth recalling, started with a small community gathered in the upper room.
Jeffrey O. Nelson is President of Thomas More College of Liberal Arts, Merrimack, New Hampshire.
“Were Not Our Hearts Burning As He Spoke?”
By Jeffrey J. Karls
I write this reflection in New Hampshire shortly after Pope Benedict XVI completed his first visit to the United States, April 15-20. Although the Alitalia flight nicknamed “Shepherd One” returned to Rome with the Holy Father aboard, he is still very much present in America. Many who encountered Pope Benedict through the media or directly in Washington D.C., or New York could not help but echo the beautiful sentiments of the Emmaus disciples: “Were not our hearts burning as he spoke?”
Pope Benedict’s visit to America filled me with great joy, because I am not only a lay member of the flock he shepherds, the Catholic Church, but also the president of a Catholic college born from the heart of that Church. The Holy Father’s “Address to Catholic Educators” was especially poignant. He disappointed some media critics who were expecting to meet a vicious “German Shepherd,” the former “Panzer Cardinal,” by being the humble, intelligent and fatherly servant his associates have always known him to be. At the end of the evening, I strolled around Washington with several Catholic college presidents who also attended the meeting and we reveled in the strength and inspiration we drew from the Holy Father’s wisdom.
The text of Pope Benedict’s address is a key point of reference for the identity of Catholic schools, colleges and universities. Three points made by the Holy Father seem particularly crucial for Catholic colleges:
First, Catholic schools are places of evangelization:
Catholic colleges strive to prepare students for professional, parish and family life; yet their primary reason for being is to offer students a place to grow in personal intimacy with Jesus Christ. In these remarks Pope Benedict is echoing the Second Vatican Council teaching that “the fruitfulness of the apostolate of lay people depends on their living union with Christ.” (Decree on the Apostolate of the Laity, no.4)
The second point from the Holy Father closely follows the first: Christian living is communal. The word “community,” overused these days, often denotes a group of individuals assenting to the same idea. Pope Benedict makes it clear that God is the source of unity in Catholic schools and a dynamic personal and communal relationship with him must be visible on campus:
“This unique encounter is sustained within our Christian community: the one who seeks the truth becomes the one who lives by faith (cf. Fides et Ratio, 31). It can be described as a move from “I” to “we”, leading the individual to be numbered among God’s people.
This same dynamic of communal identity — to whom do I belong? — vivifies the ethos of our Catholic institutions. A university or school’s Catholic identity is not simply a question of the number of Catholic students. It is a question of conviction — do we really believe that only in the mystery of the Word made flesh does the mystery of man truly become clear (cf. Gaudium et Spes, 22)? Are we ready to commit our entire self — intellect and will, mind and heart — to God? Do we accept the truth Christ reveals? Is the faith tangible in our universities and schools? Is it given fervent expression liturgically, sacramentally, through prayer, acts of charity, a concern for justice, and respect for God’s creation? Only in this way do we really bear witness to the meaning of who we are and what we uphold.”
Not surprisingly, Pope Benedict points to the liturgy as the first place where students can discover their identity and belonging. The liturgical life on Catholic college campuses liberates the individual by integrating him or her into the worshipping community: “a move from the ‘I’ to the ‘we.’
Finally, Pope Benedict reminds us that Catholic colleges assist young people to exercise their freedom by entrusting themselves to God.
Many young people shaped by the “dictatorship of relativism” have difficulty seeing freedom as anything but a force for self-seeking. The Holy Father shows us—most especially by the way he radiates faith, hope and charity—that a Catholic college must help students to discover “the joy of entering into ‘Christ’s being for others.’”
Pope Benedict arrived in America at the time of year when the sun begins to warm the New Hampshire ground after a long winter. We rejoice that Pope Benedict has strengthened America’s Catholic colleges as they strive to hasten the new springtime for the Catholic Church.
Jeffrey J. Karls is President of Magdalen College, Warner, New Hampshire.
Thoughts From the President of a New College
By Father Robert W. Cook
As the founding President of Wyoming Catholic College, I am often asked the question: “Why another Catholic college? Aren’t there enough? You are so small, and it is such a difficult task. Why are you doing it?” In a way, the answer is simple: There are not enough boldly, radiantly Catholic schools in this country, particularly at the collegiate level. Young men and women who are seeking a rigorous education of their minds in truth and a prayerful formation of their hearts in charity have precious few options available to them. The cause of this paucity of options has been the turning of once-great older institutions away from and even against their heritage, ostensibly to promote intellectual inquiry and freedom. We see this mentality embodied in the Land O’ Lakes Statement on the Nature of the Contemporary Catholic University (1967).
The world of Catholic education has had forty years in which to demonstrate the glories of autonomy, secularization and the conventional trade-oriented and cafeteria approach to coursework. Nonetheless, in my opinion and in that of many in our Church today, this experiment has been tried and found very much wanting. Whether you look at plummeting academic statistics and shoddy intellectual standards or at the moral aberrations of a rampant egoism, not to mention the lack of basic catechetical knowledge and an impoverished spirituality, you can see plainly how radically our mainstream institutions have failed the youths they were created to serve.
Present in the audience, I listened carefully to Pope Benedict XVI’s address to Catholic educators. His message, couched in his customarily polished and peaceful language, conveyed a crystal-clear message: Catholic institutions, wake up and rediscover your deepest identity! “Catholic identity,” he declared, “demands and inspires much more [than mere orthodoxy of course content]: namely, that each and every aspect of your learning communities reverberates within the ecclesial life of faith.” (An aside: “orthodoxy of course content” would already be a huge step forward for most Catholic schools in this country, but we see that the Pope has even loftier aspirations.)
The Pope’s very first words, drawn from the Letter to the Romans, set the tone for his entire address: “How beautiful are the footsteps of those who bring good news.” The good news is not academic freedom, it is not earthly credentials and it is not worldly success. The good news is Jesus Christ, His message, His wisdom, His salvation. That is what the Catholic university exists to promote, to proclaim, to study, to ponder, to write and sing about, to pass on from generation to generation, enriched with new insight, thereby enriching the entire world.
Hence, the Pope went on to say: “First and foremost every Catholic educational institution is a place to encounter the living God who in Jesus Christ reveals his transforming love and truth.” First and foremost, then, we are to be a place of meeting God and experiencing the power of His love and His truth—the only love that never disappoints, the only truth that can ground and guarantee every other truth we know. Take away this love and the world is a bleak waste, a meaningless labyrinth; take away this truth and the world is a tale signifying nothing. Young people instinctively know this, which is why they must either find some absolute cause worth living and dying for, or surrender themselves to amnesic indulgence.
Pope Benedict did not mince words. “Each generation of Christian educators,” he reminded us, has a duty “to ensure that the power of God’s truth permeates every dimension of the institutions they serve.” And why? So that young people may lead a life “characterized by all that is beautiful, good, and true.” This venerable triad, which is actually the motto emblazoned on the crest of Wyoming Catholic College, expresses why we were founded: to nourish our students with the perennial and the profound, the substantial and the sacred, the things that truly satisfy the infinite hunger of the human heart.
For this reason, academic freedom is not and could never be our guiding principle; truth is. Academic freedom is an idol that misleads its worshipers to imagine a vain thing: that reason alone can get us safely home. As a matter of fact, reason is not only not capable of realizing our high destiny as children of God, it even collapses in upon itself in mute nihilism when no longer supported by the divine strength of faith. “Only in faith can truth become incarnate and reason truly human,” said the Holy Father.
Academic freedom, in its usual acceptation, also completely misunderstands the very nature of freedom, as indicated by the question, Freedom for what? To be free is only as good as what you are freed to do and to be. As the Pope put it in his speech, “Freedom is not an opting out, it is an opting in—a participation in being itself.” Jesus Christ affirmed to His disciples: “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” Nothing else can liberate us, nothing else can satisfy us and nothing else can save us from despair—or from the evasion of despair that accounts for much of the industry of modern life.
As a new school, in the face of the tyranny of relativism as well as a pervasive lack of understanding that no part of life is untouched by the mysteries of our faith, we have wanted to chart a course that makes optimal use of our freedom as a new school, unencumbered by the fruitless battles of recent generations.
It is perhaps ultimately quite ironic that the founders of this college, in a world drunk with ideas of innovation and progress, turned with one accord to the traditional practices and studies that make for true intellectual freedom—the “liberal arts” and the liberal (that is, free man’s) education they sustain. Our students learn by a guided tour of the Great Books, supplemented by remaining in touch with God’s first book, creation. Students who receive this kind of education, seemingly remote from the “practical,” are capacitated for a whole host of life skills and vocations that they can pursue with unique versatility and vitality.
It is an embarrassing exercise to go back and compare the rigorous classical education this country’s Founding Fathers received with the simulacrum of education their descendents are getting today. What did those men of action study? They studied logic, rhetoric, Latin, mathematics, physical sciences, literature, philosophy and very often theology. Their studies were a sort of last echo of the Catholic Church’s educational heritage, which is the sole root and finest flower of all university life in the Western world. Our college has the wonderful opportunity to grow up from this root, without compromise, and to harvest its fruits for the good of the Church and of the country.
Pope Benedict XVI concluded his address by quoting his favorite theologian, St. Augustine: “We who speak and you who listen acknowledge ourselves as fellow disciples of a single teacher.” Christ, the Light of the World, is truly the Master at our college, the One to whom we look, the One whose wisdom we strive to embrace, both in and out of the classroom. In this way we strive to create a culture of true freedom, born of “intellectual charity”—the freedom, that is, to know, to pursue, to discover and to cling to all that is really good, beautiful and true.
Father Robert W. Cook, LL.B., is President of Wyoming Catholic College, Lander, Wyoming.
Address to Catholic Educators
By His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI
April 17, 2008, The Catholic University of America
Your Eminences,
Dear Brother Bishops,
Distinguished Professors, Teachers and Educators,
How beautiful are the footsteps of those who bring good news” (Rom 10:15-17). With these words of Isaiah quoted by Saint Paul, I warmly greet each of you—bearers of wisdom—and through you the staff, students and families of the many and varied institutions of learning that you represent. It is my great pleasure to meet you and to share with you some thoughts regarding the nature and identity of Catholic education today. I especially wish to thank Father David O’Connell, President and Rector of the Catholic University of America. Your kind words of welcome are much appreciated. Please extend my heartfelt gratitude to the entire community—faculty, staff and students—of this University.
Education is integral to the mission of the Church to proclaim the Good News. First and foremost every Catholic educational institution is a place to encounter the living God who in Jesus Christ reveals his transforming love and truth (cf. Spe Salvi, 4). This relationship elicits a desire to grow in the knowledge and understanding of Christ and his teaching. In this way those who meet him are drawn by the very power of the Gospel to lead a new life characterized by all that is beautiful, good, and true; a life of Christian witness nurtured and strengthened within the community of our Lord’s disciples, the Church.
The dynamic between personal encounter, knowledge and Christian witness is integral to the diakonia of truth which the Church exercises in the midst of humanity. God’s revelation offers every generation the opportunity to discover the ultimate truth about its own life and the goal of history. This task is never easy; it involves the entire Christian community and motivates each generation of Christian educators to ensure that the power of God’s truth permeates every dimension of the institutions they serve. In this way, Christ’s Good News is set to work, guiding both teacher and student towards the objective truth which, in transcending the particular and the subjective, points to the universal and absolute that enables us to proclaim with confidence the hope which does not disappoint (cf. Rom 5:5). Set against personal struggles, moral confusion and fragmentation of knowledge, the noble goals of scholarship and education, founded on the unity of truth and in service of the person and the community, become an especially powerful instrument of hope.
Dear friends, the history of this nation includes many examples of the Church’s commitment in this regard. The Catholic community here has in fact made education one of its highest priorities. This undertaking has not come without great sacrifice. Towering figures, like Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton and other founders and foundresses, with great tenacity and foresight, laid the foundations of what is today a remarkable network of parochial schools contributing to the spiritual well-being of the Church and the nation. Some, like Saint Katharine Drexel, devoted their lives to educating those whom others had neglected—in her case, African Americans and Native Americans. Countless dedicated Religious Sisters, Brothers, and Priests together with selfless parents have, through Catholic schools, helped generations of immigrants to rise from poverty and take their place in mainstream society.
This sacrifice continues today. It is an outstanding apostolate of hope, seeking to address the material, intellectual and spiritual needs of over three million children and students. It also provides a highly commendable opportunity for the entire Catholic community to contribute generously to the financial needs of our institutions. Their long-term sustainability must be assured. Indeed, everything possible must be done, in cooperation with the wider community, to ensure that they are accessible to people of all social and economic strata. No child should be denied his or her right to an education in faith, which in turn nurtures the soul of a nation.
Some today question the Church’s involvement in education, wondering whether her resources might be better placed elsewhere. Certainly in a nation such as this, the State provides ample opportunities for education and attracts committed and generous men and women to this honorable profession. It is timely, then, to reflect on what is particular to our Catholic institutions. How do they contribute to the good of society through the Church’s primary mission of evangelization?
All the Church’s activities stem from her awareness that she is the bearer of a message which has its origin in God himself: in his goodness and wisdom, God chose to reveal himself and to make known the hidden purpose of his will (cf. Eph 1:9; Dei Verbum, 2). God’s desire to make himself known, and the innate desire of all human beings to know the truth, provide the context for human inquiry into the meaning of life. This unique encounter is sustained within our Christian community: the one who seeks the truth becomes the one who lives by faith (cf. Fides et Ratio, 31). It can be described as a move from “I” to “we”, leading the individual to be numbered among God’s people.
This same dynamic of communal identity—to whom do I belong?—vivifies the ethos of our Catholic institutions. A university or school’s Catholic identity is not simply a question of the number of Catholic students. It is a question of conviction—do we really believe that only in the mystery of the Word made flesh does the mystery of man truly become clear (cf. Gaudium et Spes, 22)? Are we ready to commit our entire self—intellect and will, mind and heart—to God? Do we accept the truth Christ reveals? Is the faith tangible in our universities and schools? Is it given fervent expression liturgically, sacramentally, through prayer, acts of charity, a concern for justice, and respect for God’s creation? Only in this way do we really bear witness to the meaning of who we are and what we uphold.
From this perspective one can recognize that the contemporary “crisis of truth” is rooted in a “crisis of faith”. Only through faith can we freely give our assent to God’s testimony and acknowledge him as the transcendent guarantor of the truth he reveals. Again, we see why fostering personal intimacy with Jesus Christ and communal witness to his loving truth is indispensable in Catholic institutions of learning. Yet we all know, and observe with concern, the difficulty or reluctance many people have today in entrusting themselves to God. It is a complex phenomenon and one which I ponder continually. While we have sought diligently to engage the intellect of our young, perhaps we have neglected the will. Subsequently we observe, with distress, the notion of freedom being distorted. Freedom is not an opting out. It is an opting in—a participation in Being itself. Hence authentic freedom can never be attained by turning away from God. Such a choice would ultimately disregard the very truth we need in order to understand ourselves. A particular responsibility therefore for each of you, and your colleagues, is to evoke among the young the desire for the act of faith, encouraging them to commit themselves to the ecclesial life that follows from this belief. It is here that freedom reaches the certainty of truth. In choosing to live by that truth, we embrace the fullness of the life of faith which is given to us in the Church.
Clearly, then, Catholic identity is not dependent upon statistics. Neither can it be equated simply with orthodoxy of course content. It demands and inspires much more: namely that each and every aspect of your learning communities reverberates within the ecclesial life of faith. Only in faith can truth become incarnate and reason truly human, capable of directing the will along the path of freedom (cf. Spe Salvi, 23). In this way our institutions make a vital contribution to the mission of the Church and truly serve society. They become places in which God’s active presence in human affairs is recognized and in which every young person discovers the joy of entering into Christ’s “being for others” (cf. ibid., 28).
The Church’s primary mission of evangelization, in which educational institutions play a crucial role, is consonant with a nation’s fundamental aspiration to develop a society truly worthy of the human person’s dignity. At times, however, the value of the Church’s contribution to the public forum is questioned. It is important therefore to recall that the truths of faith and of reason never contradict one another (cf. First Vatican Ecumenical Council, Dogmatic Constitution on the Catholic Faith Dei Filius, IV: DS 3017; St. Augustine, Contra Academicos, III, 20, 43). The Church’s mission, in fact, involves her in humanity’s struggle to arrive at truth. In articulating revealed truth she serves all members of society by purifying reason, ensuring that it remains open to the consideration of ultimate truths. Drawing upon divine wisdom, she sheds light on the foundation of human morality and ethics, and reminds all groups in society that it is not praxis that creates truth but truth that should serve as the basis of praxis. Far from undermining the tolerance of legitimate diversity, such a contribution illuminates the very truth which makes consensus attainable, and helps to keep public debate rational, honest and accountable. Similarly the Church never tires of upholding the essential moral categories of right and wrong, without which hope could only wither, giving way to cold pragmatic calculations of utility which render the person little more than a pawn on some ideological chess-board.
With regard to the educational forum, the diakonia of truth takes on a heightened significance in societies where secularist ideology drives a wedge between truth and faith. This division has led to a tendency to equate truth with knowledge and to adopt a positivistic mentality which, in rejecting metaphysics, denies the foundations of faith and rejects the need for a moral vision. Truth means more than knowledge: knowing the truth leads us to discover the good. Truth speaks to the individual in his or her the entirety, inviting us to respond with our whole being. This optimistic vision is found in our Christian faith because such faith has been granted the vision of the Logos, God’s creative Reason, which in the Incarnation, is revealed as Goodness itself. Far from being just a communication of factual data—“informative”—the loving truth of the Gospel is creative and life-changing—“performative” (cf. Spe Salvi, 2). With confidence, Christian educators can liberate the young from the limits of positivism and awaken receptivity to the truth, to God and his goodness. In this way you will also help to form their conscience which, enriched by faith, opens a sure path to inner peace and to respect for others.
It comes as no surprise, then, that not just our own ecclesial communities but society in general has high expectations of Catholic educators. This places upon you a responsibility and offers an opportunity. More and more people—parents in particular—recognize the need for excellence in the human formation of their children. As Mater et Magistra, the Church shares their concern. When nothing beyond the individual is recognized as definitive, the ultimate criterion of judgment becomes the self and the satisfaction of the individual’s immediate wishes. The objectivity and perspective, which can only come through a recognition of the essential transcendent dimension of the human person, can be lost. Within such a relativistic horizon the goals of education are inevitably curtailed. Slowly, a lowering of standards occurs. We observe today a timidity in the face of the category of the good and an aimless pursuit of novelty parading as the realization of freedom. We witness an assumption that every experience is of equal worth and a reluctance to admit imperfection and mistakes. And particularly disturbing, is the reduction of the precious and delicate area of education in sexuality to management of “risk”, bereft of any reference to the beauty of conjugal love.
How might Christian educators respond? These harmful developments point to the particular urgency of what we might call “intellectual charity”. This aspect of charity calls the educator to recognize that the profound responsibility to lead the young to truth is nothing less than an act of love. Indeed, the dignity of education lies in fostering the true perfection and happiness of those to be educated. In practice “intellectual charity” upholds the essential unity of knowledge against the fragmentation which ensues when reason is detached from the pursuit of truth. It guides the young towards the deep satisfaction of exercising freedom in relation to truth, and it strives to articulate the relationship between faith and all aspects of family and civic life. Once their passion for the fullness and unity of truth has been awakened, young people will surely relish the discovery that the question of what they can know opens up the vast adventure of what they ought to do. Here they will experience “in what” and “in whom” it is possible to hope, and be inspired to contribute to society in a way that engenders hope in others.
Dear friends, I wish to conclude by focusing our attention specifically on the paramount importance of your own professionalism and witness within our Catholic universities and schools. First, let me thank you for your dedication and generosity. I know from my own days as a professor, and I have heard from your Bishops and officials of the Congregation for Catholic Education, that the reputation of Catholic institutes of learning in this country is largely due to yourselves and your predecessors. Your selfless contributions—from outstanding research to the dedication of those working in inner-city schools—serve both your country and the Church. For this I express my profound gratitude.
In regard to faculty members at Catholic colleges universities, I wish to reaffirm the great value of academic freedom. In virtue of this freedom you are called to search for the truth wherever careful analysis of evidence leads you. Yet it is also the case that any appeal to the principle of academic freedom in order to justify positions that contradict the faith and the teaching of the Church would obstruct or even betray the university’s identity and mission; a mission at the heart of the Church’s munus docendi and not somehow autonomous or independent of it.
Teachers and administrators, whether in universities or schools, have the duty and privilege to ensure that students receive instruction in Catholic doctrine and practice. This requires that public witness to the way of Christ, as found in the Gospel and upheld by the Church’s Magisterium, shapes all aspects of an institution’s life, both inside and outside the classroom. Divergence from this vision weakens Catholic identity and, far from advancing freedom, inevitably leads to confusion, whether moral, intellectual or spiritual.
I wish also to express a particular word of encouragement to both lay and Religious teachers of catechesis who strive to ensure that young people become daily more appreciative of the gift of faith. Religious education is a challenging apostolate, yet there are many signs of a desire among young people to learn about the faith and practice it with vigor. If this awakening is to grow, teachers require a clear and precise understanding of the specific nature and role of Catholic education. They must also be ready to lead the commitment made by the entire school community to assist our young people, and their families, to experience the harmony between faith, life and culture.
Here I wish to make a special appeal to Religious Brothers, Sisters and Priests: do not abandon the school apostolate; indeed, renew your commitment to schools especially those in poorer areas. In places where there are many hollow promises which lure young people away from the path of truth and genuine freedom, the consecrated person’s witness to the evangelical counsels is an irreplaceable gift. I encourage the Religious present to bring renewed enthusiasm to the promotion of vocations. Know that your witness to the ideal of consecration and mission among the young is a source of great inspiration in faith for them and their families.
To all of you I say: bear witness to hope. Nourish your witness with prayer. Account for the hope that characterizes your lives (cf. 1 Pet 3:15) by living the truth which you propose to your students. Help them to know and love the One you have encountered, whose truth and goodness you have experienced with joy. With Saint Augustine, let us say: “we who speak and you who listen acknowledge ourselves as fellow disciples of a single teacher” (Sermons, 23:2). With these sentiments of communion, I gladly impart to you, your colleagues and students, and to your families, my Apostolic Blessing.
Pope Benedict XVI and Catholic Higher Education
/in Mission and Governance Mission and Catholic Identity, Research and Analysis/by Guest ContributorCommentaries in Advance of the Holy Father’s April 2008 Address to Catholic College Presidents
This special publication of The Center for the Study of Catholic Higher Education is issued in anticipation of Pope Benedict XVI’s visit to the United States. It is designed to provide some context for his historic April 17, 2008 meeting with Catholic college presidents and diocesan education officials.
Contents:
The Visit of Pope Benedict XVI: Some Reflections of a College President
By Dr. Timothy O’Donnell
Ratzinger, Bavaria and Higher Education
By Dr. Brennan Pursell
Studying with the Future Pope: An Interview with Father Joseph Fessio, S.J.
By Joseph A. Esposito
Pope Benedict and St. Augustine
By Evangeline C. Jones
The Popes and Education in the 20th Century
Dr. Peter A. Kwasniewski
The Visit of Pope Benedict XVI: Some Reflections of a College President
By Dr. Timothy O’Donnell
The visit of Pope Benedict XVI to the United States will afford a tremendous opportunity for the Roman Catholic Church here in the United States to draw ever closer to the Heart of the Church. It is highly significant to observe that one of the desires expressed by the Pontiff for his short visit to our country will be to meet with the presidents of all U.S. Catholic colleges and universities.
Our current Holy Father, like his predecessor, longs to witness an authentic Catholic renewal in Catholic higher education, knowing it to be key for the future of culture and the future of our civilization. Pope Benedict recognizes the power wielded by the academy in shaping culture. Furthermore, as a man of refined intellect who is deeply sensitive to the trends of contemporary thought, he has clearly recognized the dangers that brutal secularism, with its accompanying moral relativism, poses a grave threat to Western Civilization that could strip human life of its true meaning and dignity.
Some deny that there is a crisis or that there is a trend toward secularization in the current state of Catholic higher education. They claim that Catholic colleges have simply become increasingly pluralistic and diverse, in keeping with the rest of the nation. But as Pope John Paul II taught in Ex corde Ecclesiae, the Catholic university has a specific contribution to make in the midst of this diversity since it, in a special way, is “consecrated to the Truth.”
In our Holy Father’s recent encyclical, Spe Salvi, he makes a specific reference to the important role of Christ as the true Philosopher, who, in bringing the Gospel, brings Truth. It is Christ Himself who tells us what it means to be truly a man and what man must do in order to be fully human: “He Himself is both the Way and the Truth, and therefore He is also the Life that all of us are seeking.” Much of this encyclical can be directed to academia, particularly as the Pope targets a number of intellectual errors characteristic of the 19th century, with its naïve belief in human progress and the philosophical errors of the likes of Karl Marx. The Holy Father counters that, without God, there can be no hope and without hope, there can be no authentic human life.
Recognizing the vital role that education will play in exposing these modern errors, the Pope has already delivered a number of key addresses on the importance of Catholic higher education, indicating that he is likely to reemphasize the teaching communicated in John Paul’s masterful encyclical Fides et Ratio. In so doing, Pope Benedict will point out the crucial role that must be played by Catholic institutions of higher learning to reengage the culture and communicate effectively to the world the great synthesis of the Catholic intellectual tradition that unites both faith and reason and recognizes in each of them a common source in Almighty God. This radical transformation can be achieved only if the university maintains a strong Catholic identity with a special commitment to the Gospel as it is communicated through the Magisterium.
The Pope, as a brilliant theologian himself, will certainly take this opportunity of meeting with the presidents of Catholic colleges to help these educators, who are seeking the truth with sincerity, to recognize that there is a special ecclesial dimension to their mission; Catholic education requires fidelity to the deposit of faith as it is communicated by the Church. Thus, since the Catholic university is consecrated, as we have said, in a special way to the search for and acquisition of Truth, it must therefore be open to everything related to God, man and the created order.
Recalling the teaching of the Second Vatican Council in its document Dei Verbum, Sacred Scripture, Sacred Tradition and the Magisterium are like three pillars that are so interconnected “that one really cannot stand without the other.” These pillars should be embraced by Catholic colleges and universities and should provide the foundation of their efforts to help explicate the Faith in service to the Church and a world that hungers for the saving Truth of Christ.
Pope Benedict’s visit, not only as the Holy Father but also as a man of great intellect and scholarly ability, should assure scholars and educators everywhere that they have nothing to fear from the Church. A number of individuals in Catholic higher education fear that there would be a loss of freedom if they were to embrace fully the vision set forth in Ex corde Ecclesiae, but, as Pope Benedict beautifully stated in his homily at his Installation Mass in April 2005: “this yoke of Christ does not weigh down on us, oppressing us and taking away our freedom.” Pope Benedict, like all true academicians, is totally committed to the search for and acquisition of Truth.
We must remember that Truth is the object of the intellect; once the Truth has been discovered, there follows the obligation to submit to the Truth. The human heart was made for the Truth by the God who loves us. Thus, the human mind yearns for the union with God in the Truth, and the purpose of scholarly endeavor is the comprehension and communication of the Truth.
To that end, college and university presidents and scholars who share this love for the pursuit of the Truth should rejoice that a man of such intellect, learning and deep faith has been elevated to the papal throne and has come to our fair shores to speak to us about the great mission of Catholic higher education. His presence will be a grace for our broken and suffering Church and should be received as a source of joy and hope for all those who love the Church, who love the Faith and who are committed to communicating the whole truth about man, which is revealed most fully in Jesus Christ.
Dr. Timothy O’Donnell, KGCHS, is President of Christendom College.
Ratzinger, Bavaria and Higher Education
By Dr. Brennan Pursell
Joseph Ratzinger has been a prominent name in Bavarian higher education for about four decades. When the 42-year-old professor of theology came to Regensburg in 1969, he had behind him 17 years of teaching experience, a track record for excellence at the universities of Bonn, Münster, and Tübingen, and an international reputation due to his best-selling books and his service as an official theological expert at the Second Vatican Council. The university at Regensburg was new, first chartered in 1962, offering courses in three faculties from 1967. Leaving venerable Tübingen for that fledgling institution was a definite step down the ladder of academic prestige.
But Ratzinger did not care. He wanted to return to his native Bavaria after a 10-year sojourn in other parts of Germany, and his brother was well-established as the music director of the famous Regensburg boys choir. In a write-up for the local press, Professor Ratzinger publicly stated that his goal was to contribute to the new university’s theological department through teamwork and dialogue, both for the sake of encouraging a genuine integration of the various disciplines of Catholic theology, and for the good of the students, so that they would improve their theological knowledge, and thereby come closer to truth.
After five years, his intellectual brilliance and complete sanity propelled him to the forefront of the university’s leadership. In 1974, he was named Dean of his department, and two years later, the Bavarian Ministry of Culture appointed him Prorektor (Vice-President) of the University. As a result of his famous publications–dozens of his books and articles had been translated into at least a dozen languages–and his appointment to the Holy See’s International Theological Commission, he soon gathered a cohort of graduate students from all over Europe, China, Korea, Chile, Benin, Canada, and the United States–by far the most international student academic group on campus. In contemporary lingo, we might say that he was leading the way toward globalization in academe, long before Regensburg had a program. Pope Paul VI, however, diverted Ratzinger’s career path in 1977. Even after he became the Archbishop of Freising and Munich, Ratzinger remained an honorary member of the university faculty.
What does this mean for us in higher education in the United States? On the face of it, not much. Higher education in all Germany is a branch of the state and ruled by government bureaucrats in the states’ ministries of culture. German universities, especially in Ratzinger’s day, did no fundraising and had next to no interest in dorms, sports, student social and spiritual life, or really anything else apart from teaching and research. The state paid for tuition and subsidized the mess halls. Most students arranged for their own accommodations like normal adults. On the whole, it still is that way.
Pope Benedict XVI, however, has had much to say to the higher education establishment in Bavaria, Germany, and the rest of the world. In 2006, he exhorted the German bishops to support actively and financially the little university at Eichstätt in Bavaria, which is the only Catholic university in Germany. Eichstätt, he said, needs to become a larger, more prominent, elite university, where generations of future leaders learn to address the issues of the day from a firm grounding in Catholic learning, tradition and truth. Eichstätt is already one of the best rated universities in Germany, in terms of student approval of their professors and the institution’s commitment to dedicated, attentive education of the whole person. But with 4,500 students it is quite small, relative to the weighty populations of the German state universities. All Catholic dioceses in Germany, the Pope added, should make firm contributions to the effort.
In the now famous Regensburg Address (September 12, 2006), Benedict XVI appealed to university scholars everywhere not to truncate their definition of reason by confining all knowledge to the material, the empirical, and the readily quantifiable. Human reason, which derives from God’s, the logos, is capable of reaching toward greater heights. He did not say that all faculties should submit to the declarations of the theologians, but he stated unequivocally that theology and philosophy should not be excluded from the essential human dialogue about truth, or be dismissed as irrelevant or merely “meta”. Everyone with an interest in truth should read the Regensburg Address, and especially political figures, such as Barack Obama, who declared in his best-selling political biography, The Audacity of Hope, “Almost by definition, faith and reason operate in different domains and involve different paths to discerning truth” (p. 219). The Pope differs.
The Regensburg Address is already producing fruit in the United States. At DeSales University, in an effort to bring the diverse faculties and disciplines together in dialogue, we have instituted a Dies Academicus each semester, as described by the Pope. The Dies is an open forum of, by, and for the faculty, where the rostrum is open for any
and all to contribute to a discussion about a topic of general interest, such as the definition of globalization or the fundamental elements of a
Catholic, liberal arts education. The response among the faculty and administration at DeSales has been extremely positive. I cannot recommend it enough for every college or university, Catholic and otherwise, where academic specialization tends to inhibit dialogue.
On April 17, when the Holy Father speaks at Catholic University in Washington, D.C., I expect him to reiterate some of the points he made in Regensburg, but I would not be surprised if he explicitly links American Catholic universities to his predecessor’s “new evangelization,” something which is almost impossible in the German socialist system. He will also probably cite Ex corde Ecclesiae, and might urge the American bishops to take a more active, assertive role as shepherds in the Catholic universities in their dioceses. But this is speculation.
Whatever Benedict XVI says to us this April, it will be clear, poignant, and eminently worth listening to. For those who do not know, the man is a bona fide genius. He speaks in flawless paragraphs, lectures in publishable chapters off the top of his head, and writes his books in a single draft. Is there any leader on the world stage today who is more educated and with greater raw intelligence than he? Those who are skeptical should read his books and decide for themselves.
Dr. Brennan Pursell is an Associate Professor of History at DeSales University and a Newman Fellow of The Center for the Study of Catholic Higher Education. His new book, Benedict of Bavaria: An Intimate Portrait of the Pope and His Homeland (Circle Press), was published in March 2008.
Studying with the Future Pope: An Interview with Father Joseph Fessio, S.J.
By Joseph A. Esposito
Q:Father Ratzinger’s doctoral dissertation dealt with St. Augustine. How much of the work of this Church Father influenced him as an academic?
A: Of course St. Augustine has had a strong influence on Pope Benedict XVI because he has had an influence on the entire theology of the West, including that of Thomas Aquinas. So whether or not he had done his dissertation on St. Augustine, he still would have had the influence of Augustine in his work because he is so indebted to the entire patristic contribution to faith, life and theology. He did post-doctoral work on Saint Bonaventure.
Q: Did you observe a Franciscan influence in his work [while studying under Professor Ratzinger in the 1970s]?
A: Again you can observe a Franciscan influence in the work of Joseph Ratzinger, but that is due to many factors. St. Bonaventure may be one of them. But his sense of the earth and of simplicity which he gets from being a native of rural Bavaria is certainly one, and his natural personality is one of both depth and simplicity.
Q: What was most noteworthy about him as a professor?
A: I think the most noteworthy thing about him as a professor was the way he led doctoral seminars. With several of us graduate students making presentations and discussing a theme among ourselves, he would for the most part sit and listen. From time to time he would ask someone who may not have been participating for an opinion. But at the end he would sum up what had been said. He would give emphasis to the most important points. He would synthesize the entire proceedings in an organic way that was always luminous and revealing .
Q: How do you think his career as a professor influenced his views on the role of higher education?
A: Because he was and still is a professor, he understands higher education from within. He was a highly regarded exemplar of what being a professor means and what a university education is for.
About Fr. Fessio
Father Joseph Fessio, S.J., is Theologian in Residence at Ave Maria University and founder of Ignatius Press. He completed his doctoral work under Father Joseph Ratzinger at the University of Regensburg in the 1970s.
About Mr. Esposito
Joseph A. Esposito is the Director of The Center for the Study of Catholic Higher Education at The Cardinal Newman Society and the Editor of The Newman Guide to Choosing a Catholic College.
Pope Benedict and St. Augustine
By Evangeline C. Jones
“When I read St. Augustine’s writings, I do not get the impression that he is a man who died more or less 1,600 years ago; I feel he is like a man today: a friend, a contemporary who speaks to me, who speaks to us with his everlasting timeliness of his faith; of the faith that comes from Christ, the Eternal Incarnate Word, Son of God and Son of Man.”
These words of Pope Benedict from a January 2008 weekly audience are among the latest of countless indications of his lifelong “friendship” with St. Augustine. They range from a 1953 dissertation on Augustine to his 21st-century papal encyclicals and audiences, as well as occasional autobiographical reflections. Indeed, the Holy Father closed his recent series of five audiences on “the greatest Church Father” with a personal note, “Augustine has had a profound effect on my own life and ministry.” Over the course of his talks, Pope Benedict gave catechesis based upon the life, works and inner experience (conversion) of Augustine. Far more than a mere tribute to Augustine, the Holy Father repeatedly emphasized the timeliness of Augustine’s message and example for us and our times.
He recommends the Confessions for its “unique attention to the spiritual life” focused upon interiority and psychology, making it a “unique model…to modern times.” In his audience on the subject of faith and reason, “the crucial theme for Augustine’s biography,” Pope Benedict tells us, “Augustine’s entire intellectual and spiritual development is also a valid model today in the relationship between faith and reason, a subject not only for believers but for every person who seeks the truth, a central theme for the balance and destiny of every human being.” About Augustine’s De Civitate Dei, he says, “this book is also today a source for defining clearly between true secularism and the Church’s competence,” with its insights on the relationship between the political sphere and the sphere of faith.
Those involved in academic and intellectual work today will also find much to ponder in Pope Benedict’s description of Augustine’s final and deepest conversion: “The last stage was a conversion of such profound humility that he would daily ask God for pardon. He also demonstrated this humility in his intellectual endeavors, submitting all his works to a thorough critique.”
Perhaps not surprisingly, the coat of arms Pope Benedict selected incorporates two elements associated with St Augustine, and both convey a message about humility. The shell is said to represent an encounter St Augustine had with a young boy he found trying to pour sea water into a hole in the sand. Seeing the futility of the boy’s effort, Augustine also realized the futility of his own efforts to comprehend the Trinity, an unfathomable mystery.
The other symbol, the bear with a pack on its back, is drawn from a story about Munich’s own St. Korbinian. In memoirs published ten years ago, Pope Benedict also relates it to Augustine’s meditation on Psalm 73: “Augustine takes the ‘beast’ in this verse to be a draft animal. He compares his work as a bishop to that of an ox pulling a wagon. Augustine had chosen a scholar’s life—only to find that God harness him to his wagon, to pull it to the world…. As the farmer’s ox is close to him and works for him, so Augustine realized that his humdrum duties brought him close to God…. Isn’t Korbinian’s bear, compelled against his will to carry the saint’s pack, a picture of my own life?…
‘I am not better than a beast in your sight’—but a beast close to God…. I am God’s pack animal.”
The Popes and Education in the 20th Century
Dr. Peter A. Kwasniewski
During her 2,000 years of history, the Catholic Church has been intimately involved in nearly every type of educational endeavor known to Western man, from the ancient schools of rhetoric to the great universities of the High Middle Ages, from humble rudiments taught at grammar schools to lofty flights of reason and imagination in the arts and sciences.
The Successor of St. Peter has a special reason to be attentive to the state of education in the flock he shepherds and to guide and encourage it in every way possible. In fact, we find among the popes, particularly those of the last millennium, an impressive connection with schools at various levels—naturally, first and foremost, schools of formation for the clergy, but also, as time goes on, schools for religious and for the laity. Pope John Paul II fittingly reminded the world in Ex corde Ecclesiae (1990) that the university was born from the heart of the Church and that the Church is still her best ally in the delicate, decisive, and inescapable work of educating the whole person, above all with respect to man’s capacity to know and love God, on which his very dignity is based.
If we consider the popes of our own time, from Leo XIII (1878–1903) onwards, we see several major themes consistently present in their speeches and writings. First and foremost, the Church belongs in higher education. As Leo XIII wrote to the Archbishop of Baltimore, James Cardinal Gibbons, in 1887: “It has always been the glory of the Pastors of the Church, but above all, of the Supreme Pontiffs, constantly to promote the acquisition of a knowledge worthy of its name, and carefully to watch over the teaching—especially theological and philosophical—imparted, so that it may be in keeping with the principles of faith. This union between the teaching of revelation and that of reason constitutes an indestructible bulwark of the faith.”
The Church has always inspired the best kind of education, the most well-rounded and the most profoundly searching, because, as the same Pope observed in 1897, “divine faith is not only in no way hostile to culture, but rather is the crown and climax of culture.” Indeed, a defining characteristic of Catholic education is its drive toward synthesis, a unified vision of God and the world, with the drama of redemption at its center.
“Directly or indirectly, all studies have some connection with religion,” wrote Venerable Pius XII (1939–1958) in 1950. “University does not mean simply an overlaying of curricula which are extraneous to one another, but indicates rather a synthesis of all the subjects of learning.… To actuate this synthesis from its center up to the main key that unlocks the whole edifice is the task of a Catholic university.”
Accordingly, the curriculum of a genuinely Catholic institution “assign[s] in its zeal for truth the correct place in its programs to natural sciences and metaphysics, to mind and heart, to past and present, to reason and revelation,” as the same pontiff explained in 1939. On the negative side, as this Pope observed in 1952, “the university would fulfill its mission badly were it to abandon itself to pluralism or to a superficial eclecticism.”
Another important papal theme is service of the common good. Education, at its best, forms Catholics who love the common good of their nation and their Church, are equipped with the knowledge and zeal to work towards that goal, and are willing to make sacrifices for it. Of course, Catholic education cannot form such “apostles” unless it remains abidingly true to itself and to its own identity.
Pope Pius XII declared in 1949: “In accordance with absolute fidelity to Christian principles, which are the whole reason for existence of the Catholic University, it must, today more than ever, watch the aims for which it arose, and with persistent purpose of mind keep faith with the engagement solemnly undertaken to provide the nation’s social body with leaders and lovers of science and learning who will honor the faith and the Church.”
Almost 50 years ago, in September 1958, Pius XII observed: “The Christian school will justify its existence in so far as its teachers—clerics or laymen, religious or secular—succeed in forming staunch Christians”—words that give rise to sober reflection in view of the number of historically Catholic institutions that now justify their existence for reasons extrinsic or even contrary to the apostolic intentions of their founders and benefactors, whose great longing was that minds be illuminated with the light of Christ, souls nourished with the Bread of Life, hearts inflamed with the fire of God’s love.
To all the popes of modern times, therefore, the rapid secularization of schools at all levels, whether by government coercion or by traitorous choice, has been a cause of immense sorrow and a target of their impassioned protests. The popes, especially Pius XI (1922–1939) in his masterful encyclical Divini Illius Magistri (1929), repeatedly and effectively refute the unnatural claims of “naturalism”—the view, now universally accepted in spite of its deplorable record of real-life failure, that children and young adults should be educated without any reference to God, their immortal souls, and the virtues necessary for salvation, and without the aid of the Church’s ministry.
Consider these forceful words of Pius XII from 1951: “Education which does not bother about being moral and religious fails in its greatest and better part, in that it neglects the noblest faculties of man, deprives itself of the most efficacious and vital energies, and ends up by ‘diseducating,’ mixing up uncertainties and errors with truth, vice with virtue, and evil with good.” The threat of secularism is a threat not only to the Church’s own institutions of learning but also to the common good of modern nations as they slide more and more rapidly into the moral chaos of techno-barbarism.
In his well-known Apostolic Constitution Ex corde Ecclesiae, John Paul II, a university professor in his younger days, drew extensively upon an ancient and living tradition to offer the Church a compelling vision of what Catholic higher education must be in our times as well as a body of directives and provisions to which institutions must be held accountable to guarantee their fidelity. It seems, then, beautifully providential that at the start of this new millennium the Lord has given His Church another “pope of education” in the person of Joseph Ratzinger, a scholar, theologian and author of enormous stature.
There is seldom an audience, address, or letter in which the Pope does not mention or discuss the subject of education. The famous Regensburg lecture, the speeches given at the Lateran and Gregorian Universities, and the address intended for La Sapienza in Rome are all exemplary of Pope Benedict XVI’s intellectual penetration into the relationship of faith and reason, his sound judgment regarding the modern situation, his deep academic learning made humble by the love of God, and, in a period of doubt and confusion, the strong and steady leadership he exercises for the benefit of the People of God. Let us hope and pray that his example and teaching—a powerful summons to sanity and sanctity—will be heard and heeded by our universities and other institutes of learning.
Dr. Peter A. Kwasniewski is Associate Professor of Theology and Philosophy at Wyoming Catholic College and a Newman Fellow for The Center for the Study of Catholic Higher Education.
Excerpts of Recent Statements from Pope Benedict XVI on Education
Address to the Convention of the Diocese of Rome, June 11, 2007
“…[T]here is talk of a great ‘educational emergency,’…an inevitable emergency: in a society, in a culture, which all too often make relativism its creed—relativism has become a sort of dogma—in such a society the light of truth is missing; indeed, it is considered dangerous and ‘authoritarian’ to speak of truth, and the end result is doubt about the goodness of life—is it good to be a person? is it good to be alive?—and in the validity of the relationships and commitments in which it consists.
“…For this reason, education tends to be broadly reduced to the transmission of specific abilities or capacities for doing, while people endeavor to satisfy the desire for happiness of the new generations by showering them with consumer goods and transitory gratification. Thus, both parents and teachers are easily tempted to abdicate their educational duties and even no longer to understand what their role, or rather, the mission entrusted to them, is.
“Yet, in this way we are not offering to young people…what it is our duty to pass on to them. Moreover, we owe them the true values which give life a foundation.
“…[T]his situation obviously fails to satisfy; it cannot satisfy because it ignores the essential aim of education which is the formation of a person to enable him or her to live to the full and to make his or her own contribution to the common good. However, on many sides the demand for authentic education and the rediscovery of the need for educators who are truly such is increasing.
“…[I]t is education and especially Christian education which shapes life based on God who is love…and has need of that closeness which is proper to love. Especially today, when isolation and loneliness are a widespread condition to which noise and group conformity is no real remedy, personal guidance becomes essential…”
Letter to the Faithful of Rome on the Urgent Task of Education, January 21, 2008
“Educating…has never been an easy task and today seems to be becoming ever more difficult…Hence, there is talk of a great ‘educational emergency’…
“…[A]n authentic education…needs first of all that closeness and trust which are born from love:…love which children… should have, from their parents. Yet every true teacher knows that if he is to educate he must give a part of himself, and that it is only in this way that he can help his pupils overcome selfishness and become in their turn capable of authentic love.
“…[P]erhaps the most delicate point in the task of education: finding the right balance between freedom and discipline. If no standard of behavior and rule of life is applied even in small daily matters, the character is not formed and the person will not be ready to face the trials that will come in the future. The educational relationship…is first of all the encounter of two kinds of freedom, and successful education means teaching the correct use of freedom…(W)e must never…pretend we do not see the errors or worse, that we share them as if they were the new boundaries of human progress.
“Education cannot, therefore, dispense with that authoritativeness which makes the exercise of authority possible. It is the fruit of experience and competence, but is acquired above all with the coherence of one’s own life and personal involvement, an expression of true love. The educator is thus a witness of truth and goodness. He too…is fragile and can be mistaken, but he will constantly endeavor to be in tune with his mission.
“…I would like to offer you a thought which I developed in …Spe Salvi on Christian hope: the soul of education, as of the whole of life, can only be a dependable hope…I cannot finish…without a warm invitation to place our hope in God.”
Are Catholic Colleges Leading Students Astray?
/in Mission and Governance Mission and Catholic Identity, Research and Analysis/by Patrick ReillyEven while many Catholic colleges in the United States are making exciting progress in their efforts to renew Catholic higher education, the challenges faced by reformers just keep growing worse. Research data from the Higher Education Research Institute at UCLA confirms the failure of many Catholic colleges to tend to their students’ spiritual needs. Read the full report as published in Catholic World Report in March 2003 at the PDF link above.
Newman’s Idea of a University: Still Relevant to Catholic Higher Education
/in Mission and Governance Commentary, St. John Henry Newman/by Avery Cardinal DullesJohn Henry Newman, writing in England in the mid-nineteenth century, proposed a vision of Catholic higher education that takes account of major difficulties that were prevalent in his day and are no less prevalent in ours. Although his proposals are for the most part framed in positive terms, I shall summarize them in contrast to four tendencies that Newman found unacceptable. I shall call these tendencies utilitarianism, fragmentation, secularism, and rationalism.
By utilitarianism, Newman meant the philosophical movement associated with the name of Jeremy Bentham. The editors of the Edinburgh Review, together with influential figures such as Lord Henry Brougham and Sydney Smith, proposed to dethrone the classics from the position of supremacy they held at Oxford and Cambridge and to replace them with “useful” knowledge leading to a trade or profession. Newman contended, on the contrary, that the primary end of education was not the acquisition of useful information or skills needed for a particular occupation in life, but cultivation of the mind. The special fruit of university education, as he saw it, was to produce what he called the “philosophical habit of mind.” The study of the classics, he believed, had proved its capacity to “strengthen, refine, and enrich the intellectual powers” and to enter into the rich heritage that modern Europe had acquired from the providential confluence of biblical revelation and classical civilization.
Newman was convinced that the mental refinement that comes from literary and philosophical training is something good in itself, quite part from its utility. But he added that, far from being useless, an education of this sort would equip the student to enter many walks of life. Whether one becomes a soldier, a statesman, a lawyer, or a physician, one will need the ability to think clearly, to organize one’s knowledge, and to articulate one’s ideas so as to deal effectively with the questions at hand. A narrowly professional or vocational program of training would therefore fail the test of pragmatic usefulness, not to mention the additional test of liberal knowledge as its own end.
The second threat was fragmentation. Newman was troubled by the increasing compartmentalization of education. He was not against the multiplication of disciplines. In his Irish University he set up not only a school of arts and sciences but also schools of medicine and engineering. He made provision for a chemical laboratory and an astronomical observatory. All these elements, in his view, had a rightful place in the university as a place of universal learning. But the very multiplicity of disciplines increased the necessity of a principle of order, governing the whole, so that the student would be able to perceive the significance of each particular branch of knowledge in relation to the rest.
Philosophy, as Newman used the term, was not so much a special discipline as a meta-discipline. Understanding philosophy as the exercise of reason upon knowledge, he maintained that it is unlimited in its horizon. From its own perspective, it embraces truth of every kind and locates every method of attaining it. In this way the study of philosophy overcomes the threat of fragmentation.
The third danger was secularism: the exclusion of religious knowledge from higher education. A good share of the blame, Newman believed, fell upon the Evangelicals, who depicted religion not as knowledge but as a matter of feeling and emotion. If religion were no more than this, Newman granted, it could not properly claim to merit a chair in the university. But for him religion was a matter of truth. Through reason and revelation, the mind could attain genuine knowledge about God, and the knowledge so attained could be built into a system.
The university must obviously take account of truths about God that are accessible to all thoughtful persons, such as the articles of natural religion. But it should not omit revealed truth, since Divine Revelation is necessary to keep reason from going astray. The university, as Newman conceived of it, was not a seminary, and for that reason it would not explore in depth questions of dogmatic and sacramental theology, but it would seek to impart what he called “general religious knowledge.” No part of Catholic truth could properly be excluded from the university.
The absence of theology, Newman contended, would throw the other branches of knowledge out of balance. Eager to fill the void left by that absence, these disciplines would seek to answer by their own methods questions that cannot be rightly answered except by theology. All of us have probably experienced how professors of physics or economics, medicine or psychology—to give a few examples— tend to operate as though their specialization qualified them to give a complete account of reality and of what it means to be human. Theology is needed, therefore, to keep the secular disciplines within their proper limits and to deal with questions that lie beyond their scope.
Rationalism, in Newman’s view, was the fourth great threat. The university, as a place of intellectual cultivation, tends to treat the human mind as the measure of all things. Absolutizing its own standards and goals, the university aspires to complete autonomy and becomes a rival of the Church even in the Church’s own sphere of competence. To prevent this encroachment, the Church must exercise what Newman calls “a direct and active jurisdiction” over the university. This should not be seen as a hindrance but as a help to the university. Ecclesiastical supervision prevents the university from falling into the kinds of skepticism and unbelief that have plagued seats of learning since the time of Abelard. Because the university cannot fulfill its mission without revealed truth, and because the Church has full authority to teach the contents of Revelation, the university must accept the Church’s guidance.
Newman was quite aware that the results of science sometimes seemed to conflict with Christian doctrine. He counseled patience and restraint on the part of hierarchical authorities and scientists alike. Both should proceed with the assurance that reconciliation can eventually be attained, for it is impossible that the truth of Revelation could be contrary to that of reason and of science.
A decade after writing The Idea of a University, Newman had an opportunity to witness a mighty effort of German Catholic university faculties, under the leadership of Ignaz von Döllinger, to assert their autonomy against the Magisterium. Similar struggles arise whenever Catholic universities seek to absolutize their own freedom and their own methods. Newman saw this tendency as a normal but regrettable expression of the inherent dynamism of the university as such. The higher authority of the Church was necessary to rescue freedom of thought from what Newman called its own “suicidal excesses.”
If Newman were alive today, he would enthusiastically embrace the principles set forth by John Paul II in Ex Corde Ecclesiæ. In that Apostolic Constitution the Holy Father sets forth the same general principles that I have tried to highlight in Newman’s treatise. He teaches that university education should not be content to produce an efficient work force for the factory or the marketplace; it should not exalt the technical over the spiritual. He strongly opposes the multiplication of separate departments and institutes, which he sees as harmful to a rich human formation. He calls for a universal humanism and an organic vision of reality. He likewise holds that Catholic universities have the incomparable advantage of being able to integrate all truth in relation to Christ, the incarnate Logos, Whom Christians recognize as the Way, the Truth, and the Life for the whole world. On these and many other points, the nineteenth-century English cardinal and the present Polish pope may be said to share a common point of view.
In the United States, Catholic universities have been very apologetic, almost embarrassed, by their obligation to adhere to the Faith of the Church. For Newman and for John Paul II, any university that lacks the guidance of Christian Revelation and the oversight of the Catholic Magisterium is, by that very fact, impeded in its mission to find and transmit truth. It fails to make use of an important resource that God in His Providence has bestowed.
Surrounded by powerful institutions constructed on principles of metaphysical and religious agnosticism, the Catholic universities of this nation have too long been on the defensive. They have tried too hard to prove that they are not committed to any truth that cannot be established by objective scientific scholarship. While making certain necessary adaptations to the needs of our own day, they should proudly reaffirm the essentials of their own tradition, so brilliantly synthesized by Newman in his classic work. Shifting the burden of proof to their secular counterparts, they should challenge the other universities to defend themselves and to show how they think it possible to cultivate the mind and transmit the fullness of truth if they neglect or marginalize humanistic, philosophical, and theological studies.
Cardinal Dulles presented this address on November 11, 2001, upon receiving the Cardinal Newman Society’s John Henry Newman Award for distinguished service to Catholic higher education.