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DOES NOT CIRCU~~ tfA. M.D. G.
1002
WOODSTOCK
L E T T E R S
-- 0
Sf. lOUIS UNIVHISITY UDRIUIIfS
School of Divinity Library
St. Louis, iv1issouri 63108
VOLUME 98
....--) ,..-·,.
:_--
1 9 6 9
WOODSTOCK COLLEGE
Woodstock, Maryland
FOR JESUIT USE
ll-)
I
i
�70/0933
�100~
INDEX TO VOLUME 98
BuFFALO MrssiO:-<:
1869-1969,
THE. ................................................
465
CHANGIKG PATTERNS IN TilE JESUIT ORGANIZATION.
Vivian Tellis-Nayak
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
71
CO.Ml\IUNITY IN RELATION TO THE APOSTOLATE, THE.
Norbert J. Rigali . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
COMJ\!UNITY LIFE, ON. Frederic M. O'Connor ....................................
DISCERNMENT AS A PoLITICAL PROBLEJ\L l\lichael Sheeran . . .. . . . . .. . . ..
33
381
446
DouBLE "PRINCIPLE AND FouNDATioN" IN THE SPIRITUAL
ExERCISES, THE. Joseph A. Bracken . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
319
EARLY APPROACH TO UNDERSTANDING INDIAN RELIGIOUSNESS, AN.
Patrick J. Ryan
..............................................................................
FoRTY YEARS AFTER. Lowrie J. Daly • . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • . • . . .
393
354
JESUIT CoMMUNITY AS A COJ\1:\IUNITY OF SERVICE, THE. Felix F.
Cardegna . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
JESUITS UNDER THE CzARS, THE. Denis Dirscherl ................................
NEw POEMS BY BERRIGAN. Edward V. DeSantis
. . . •. . . . . . . . . . • .
NIGHT IN REsURRECTION CITY, A. Horace B. McKenna . . . . . . . . . .
PLACE OF CmnruNITY IN JEsUIT LIFE, THE. William \V. Meissner . .
53
435
363
238
96
PsYCHOLOGICAL DIMENSIONS OF THE "JESUIT FAMILY." Joseph J.
Papaj . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • . . . . • • . . . . .
REPORT OF THE SPECIAL CoMMITTEE ON FoRDHAM UNIVERSITY
87
242
REPORT OF THE NEW ENGLAND PROVINCE COMMISSION ON
GERONTOLOGY AND NEW MINISTRIES
. . . . . . • . . . . . . . . •. •. . . . .
299
REPORT OF THE SPECIAL COMMITTEE ON SECONDARY EDUCATION
(NEW YORK PROVINCE)
252
1968 ............ 307
........•.........................
REPORT ON MID-CAREER PLANNING \VORKSHOP,
REPORT ON THE PROBLEM OF THE DISAFFECTION OF YOUNG
JESUITS FOR Oun CuRRENT EDUCATIONAL APOSTOLATE. JEA
1967 ................................. ll3
ScHOOLS, JESUITS AND DISAFFECTION. Robert D. Coursey . . . . . . . . 120
SIMON FoucHE, s.J. Sr. Lillian a Owens, S.L. .................................... 425
SuPERIOR's RoLE \VrTHIN OBEDIENCE, THE. Mark R. Voss .............. 409
Special Committee,
iii
�THEOLOGY AJim LITERATURE, SELECTED READINGS IN METHODOLOGY.
Patrick Samway . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 130
31sT GENERAL CoNGREGATION, THE: LETTERS FROM THE SECOND
SESSION. James P. Jurich (ed.) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
5
WARTIME SUPERIOR IN THE PHILIPPINES. John F. Hurley ........ 149
\VHAT 1600 PRIESTS THINK OF PRE-RETIREMENT AND RETIREMENT.
John D. Zuercher ....................................... 277
CONTRIBUTORS
BRACKEN, JosEPH A. The Double "Principle and Foundation" in
the Spiritual Exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CARDEGNA, FELIX F. The Jesuit Community as a Community of Service . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CoURSEY, ROBERT D. Schools, Jesuits and Disaffection ..........
DALY, LOWRIE J. Forty Years Mter ..........................
DESANTIS, EDWARD V. New Poems by Berrigan ................
DmscHERL, DENIS. The Jesuits under the Czars. ..............................
HURLEY, JoHN F. Wartime Superior in the Philippines ..........
JURicH, ]AMES P. (ed.). The 31st General Congregation: Letters
from the Second Session . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
McKENNA, HoRACE B. A Night in Resurrection City . . . . . . . . . . . .
MEISSNER, \VILLIAM W. The Place of Community in Jesuit Life . . .
O'CoNNOR, FREDERIC M. On Community Life ..................................
OWENS, S.L., SR. LILLIANA. Simon Fouche, S.J. ................................
PAPAJ, JosEPH J. Psychological J:?imensions of the "Jesuit Family" . .
RrGALI, NoRBERT J. The CommUnity in Relation to the Apostolate . .
RYAN, PATRICK J. An Early Approach to Understanding Indian
Religiousness .... .... .... .. ... ... ... ......... .. .... ...... ........ ...... .... .... .... .. .. ...... ....
SAMWAY, PATRICK. Theology and Literature: Selected Readings in
Methodology . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
SHEERAN, MICHAEL. Discernment as a Political Problem ..................
TELLis-NAYAK, VIVIAN. Changing Patterns in the Jesuit Organization
319
53
120
354
363
435
149
5
238
96
381
425
87
33
393
130
446
71
Voss, MARK R. The Superior's Role Within Obedience .................... 409
ZuERCHER, JoHN D. What 1600 Priests Think of Pre-Retirement and
Retirement ............................................ 277
iv
�WOODSTOCK
LETTERS
WINTER
VOLUl\IE
98
1969
NUMBER
1
�lNTRODUCfiON
Provincial and interprovincial conferences around the country
suggest that the Jesuit community-its meaning, necessity, shape
and size-is still an issue for debate. WOODSTOCK LETrERS presents
five papers on the subject. Two, by Frs. Rigali and Cardegna, were
originally delivered at meetings on Jesuit renewal. The other three,
by Frs. Tellis-Nayak, Meissner, and Mr. Papaj were written for this
quarterly. While the papers take widely divergent approaches, they
all agree on the need for theoretical or practical change and for
continued open-mindedness.
Fr. Jurich, formerly an associate editor of wooDSTOCK LETTERS,
has edited selections from the Lettres de Rome to the province of
Montreal. They deal with the second session of the 31st General
Congregation. The letters from the first session appeared in volume
96 ( 1967) of this quarterly. In this issue we also offer a study sponsored by the JEA on the disaffection of younger Jesuits for our
current educational apostol~te. Fr. Montague, the chairman of the
composing committee, stresses the context of the report ( cf. Report
... , "Location of the Problem"). It is an exploratory work, and admits that work still must be done on the basic phenomenon as well
as its causes and possible results. Mr. Coursey comments on the
report in the succeeding article.
Finally, Mr. Samway, a former managing editor of wooDSTOCK
LETTERS, offers a review of readings in Theology and Literature,
stimulated not only by his own research, but also by his attendance
at national seminars on the subject.
G. C. R.
�WINTER, 1969
CONTENTS
5
THE 31ST GENERAL CONGREGATION: LETTERS FROM THE SECOND
SESSION
•
Edited by ]ames P. ]urich, S.].
A SYMPOSIUM ON JESUIT COMMUNITY
33
The Community in Relation to the Apostolate
]. Rigali, S.].
53
The Jesuit Community as a Community of Service
Felix F. Cardegna, S.].
71
Changing Patterns in the Jesuit Organization
Tellis-Nayak, S.].
87
Psychological Dimensions of the "Jesuit Family"
Joseph]. Papa;, S.].
96
The Place of Community in Jesuit Life
Meissner, S.].
•
•
Norbert
•
•
Vivian
•
William W.
ON DISAFFECTION
113
120
I A Report on the Problem of the Disaffection of Young
Jesuits for Our Current Educational Apostolate •
]EA Special Committee, 1967
II Schools, Jesuits and Disaffection
Coursey, S.].
•
Robert D.
SELECTED READINGS
130
Theology and Literature: Selected Readings in
Methodology • Patrick Samu:ay, S.].
�FOR CONTRIBUTORS
WOODSTOCK LETTERS solicits manuscripts from all Jesuits on all topics
of particular interest to fellow Jesuits: Ignatian spirituality, the activities of
our various apostolates, problems facing the modem Society, and the history
of the Society, particularly in the United States and its missions. In general
it is our policy to publish major obituary articles on men whose work would
be of interest to the whole assistancy.
Letters of comment and criticism will be welcomed for the Readers' Forum.
Manuscripts, preferably the original copy, should be double-spaced with
ample margins. \Vhenever possible, contributors of articles on Ignatian spirituality and Jesuit history should follow the stylistic norms of the Institute
of Jesuit Sources. These are most conveniently found in Supplementary Notes
B and C and in the list of abbreviations in Joseph de Guibert, S.J., The Jesuits:
Their Spiritual Doctrine and Practice, trans. W. J. Young (Chicago, 1964).
pp. 609-16.
STAFF
Published by the students of Woodstock College. Editor: Edward J.
Mally, S.J. I Managing Editor: Gerard C. Reedy, S.J. I Copy
Editor: Richard R. Galligan, S.J. I Associate Editors: Richard A.
Blake, S.J., J. Peter Conroy, S.J., James F. Donnelly, S.J., Paul L.
Horgan, S.J., Joseph J. Papaj, S.J., Joseph F. Roccasalvo, S.J., Patrick
H. Samway, S.J., Thomas H. Stahel, S.J. I Business Manager: Alfred
E. Caruana, S.J.
�THE 31ST GENERAL CONGREGATION:
LETTERS FROM THE SECOND SESSION
Edited by James P. Jurich, S.J.
In 1967 woODSTOCK LETTERS presented "The 31st General Congregation: Letters from the First Session," an article in two parts. 1 A translation of nine Lettres de Rome prepared and distributed by the Provincial's
office of the Province of Montreal, this article offered a more personal
account of the events of the Congregation than the official Newsletters
could provide.
As it had promised at the end of the first session, the Province of
Montreal continued its Lettres de Rome service during the second sessian, producing twice as much printed material in the process. Large
portions of this material summarized the valuable work done throughout
the Society in preparation for the second session. This included reports
and position papers u;ritten by experts as well as preliminary drafts of
decrees drawn up by the members of the Congregation. We also find
personalized accounts of the discussions and debates during the sessions
and of the day-to-day circumstances surrounding them. It is from this
rich historical source that WOODSTOCK LETTERS now present the following article.
The 31st General Congregation is already part of history, but it continues to exert a profound influence on the Society of Jesus. Efforts to
implement the decrees in various parts of the Society have already
served to show how much more the thinking on the realities of our
religious life can and must develop. The Congregation itself often looked
forward to its successor only a few years ahead, and many Jesuits hope
that ideas prematurely expressed during the 31st General Congregation
will reach their maturity in the 32nd. The editors hope, therefore, that
the publication of "Letters from the Second Session" will serve more
than a merely historical interest, for those who will have a part to ,ifay
Translated by James P. Jurich and Robert C. Collins.
1
96 ( 1967) 5-34, 143-95.
5
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
in the next Congregation--and that should mean all ]esuits-tvill have
to grapple with and build upon many of the unresolved discussions of
the 31st General Congregation.
Limitations of space and local interest require that not all of the
original French text be translated here. In addition, a few short sections
have been replaced by the corresponding treatment of the same events
in the English-language Newsletters written by Fr. Donald Campion,
who at the .time of u;riting sometimes had the advantage of more complete documentary sources.
Thanks are due to Fr. !renee Desrochers, S.]., who, as Provincial of
Montreal, gave permission to publish this translation, to Montreal's
"envoye special" at the Congregation, the principal author of these
accounts, and to the members of the Provinces of Maryland, Montreal,
and New York who encouraged the editors in this translation pro;ect.
September 4, 1966
Return to Rome
I arrived at the Curia after a fine, uneventful trip . . . .
They warned us that it was hot in Rome. As a matter of fact, I was
carrying two pieces of luggage, one of which contained my typewriter,
and I was wearing a coat. I found the heat overwhelming, but actually
it was 80°. I arrived at the Curia at 2 P.~l. sweating all over. I took
a shower, said Mass, and went for a walk in St. Peter's Square ....
~
Plastic surgery
I returned to the Curia for an inspection tour of the house. In the
large chapel downstairs they had completely removed the main altar
and transferred the Blessed Sacrament to the small altar on the right.
In the sanctuary there is now. only a large, completely bare table of
white marble. Along the wall in the back they set up a very small altar
used only for benediction. The situation has remained the same in the
domestic chapel, except that they have found a solution (an excellent
one, I think) to the concelebration problem. The altar is still in the
back, but every morning they place a small portable table approximately
four feet long two or three feet in front of the altar steps, and on this
table they say concelebrated Masses facing the people.
But the recreation room is the one that has undergone the greatest
transformation. At one and the same time it has been made both bigger
and smaller: bigger, because all the fathers' rooms along the main corridor have been done away with; smaller, because the recreation area
has been subdivided into several rooms. Just imagine: there are two
6
�CONGREGATION
private rooms for those who want to watch television. The larger room
is for lovers of news, entertainment, and sports; the smaller one is for
more serious folk. A third room is devoted to those who wish to listen
to music, and a fourth to those who want to tape-record their voices
or some program. All these rooms have new furniture. They have put
six to eight card tables in what remains of the rec room. The whole
thing is decorated in a modern style, with rather provocative colors.
0 tempora, o mores!
Bro. Gravel, who had me inspect all these changes, was very happy
to inform me that all divisions between communities have been suppressed at the Curia. There is no longer a separate recreation room for
the brothers; now they take their recreation in the one room common
to all.
Haustus-talk: the devotio moderna
After finishing this tour, I made my way to the haustus room, for it
was 4:30. A new surprise: they no longer have haustus at the end of
the refectory and in the scullery, as they did during the first session.
They have set up a special room where the coffee and the Pepsi is
permanently enthroned. I met a crowd of delegates there, including our
Fr. Provincial Desrochers. I had the feeling that I was meeting old
friends again, a little like the old days when we would come back to
school. Everyone was asking: "How are things going where you are?
How far have the reforms in the Society gone? And the revolution?"
The impression that comes out of this first contact is the uneasiness
that a number of people have with regard to a possible split between
generations or between the scholastics and the older fathers. One provincial went so far as to say that he no longer J..:nows which way to turn.
The young men threaten to leave the Society if there aren't greater
reforms, and twenty-five of the old fathers have signed a letter of protest
against all the upheavals already going on, and they are also threatening
to leave the Society to go and live with the Carthusians if the Society
continues to secularize itself.
One especially spirited father gave us a humorous description of the
situation where he was:
\Ve've been brought to the point where, if an old father wants to say his
rosary, he has to ask permission from Fr. Rector, who habitually advises him
to say it with his hand in his pocket so that he isn't reprimanded by the
scholastics. If this same old father wants to make the way of the cross, oh!
then he must go right to the provincial, who tells him not to do anything of
the sort in front of the scholastics, but to wait until they have their holidays
or are outside the house. And if this old father wants to say his Mass in
7
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
private as he used to do, then he has to write to Rome to ask for that permission from the General, especially if he intends to say it every day of the
week ... !
September 5, 1966
Hexagon or Pentagon
The dining room, too, has been transformed. They have put in hexagonal tables, and now instead of one companion for a Deo Gratias meal
we have five. They have also put acoustical material on the walls and
ceiling. But over and above all that, the General himself has been displaced. Instead of sitting at the table at the far end, as he used to, he
chose a small tab!e near the other end of the dining room. But that complicated things, because from time immemorial this end of the dining
room had been reserved for the brothers, and there were some meals
when the General was surrounded by them. Then some people said
that this wasn't the place for the General. Now he has chosen another
table near the center of the room . . . but no one knows how long that
will last. One father said to me: "This is a sign that the Society is trying
to find its balance: the General no longer knows where to sit in his
own dining room." With these changes I lose the opportunity I had at
the first session. I kept my same napkin-box, but the General not only
does not enter by my door any more, but he eats at a table for six
and thus will no longer have a single table-partner as before.
Triduum
The triduum has begun. I do not believe it would detract from the
triduum if I were to continue my letter and write to you about Father
General's points. At 9:30 everyone went to the aula. There were no
special places, and people sat wherever they could. Out of modesty the
Assistants mingled with the crowd, and I had Fr. Small, the American
Assistant, next to me. I asked him what he was doing there, and he
answered that it was to his advantage to leave the upper ranks and
mix in with the delegates and that he would always have the opportunity of being with the other Assistants again.
Judging from the scene provided in the aula, most of the delegates
were there making the triduum. I would say that nine-tenths were
present. According to the list they gave us, our number has increased:
last year we were 225; this year there are 231 of us. The title of the list
reads: ELENCHUS PATRUM SECUNDUM ORDINEM SEDENDI.
The Assistants and provincials come first. (Fr. Desrochers is No. 28
and Fr. Fortier is No. 29, and they are therefore neighbors.) There
are seventy-six of them, and then begin the "ELECTORES ET PROCURATORES," numbered from 77 to 231
8
�CONGREGATION
The Congregation in Council
Father General carne up, said the prayer, and gave us points for
meditation. (The day includes one meditation in the morning and one
hour of adoration in the afternoon before the Blessed Sacrament exposed.) They had undoubtedly warned the General about not speaking
too rapidly, for he read the Latin text slowly and with careful articulation
so that we were able to follow him easily. But just to be sure, as we left
they provided us with a copy of the same text that the General had
just read. Here is a resume!! of it:
The theme of each day's conference, as one might have expected, concerned
the work of the Congregation. Father General began his first talk with a reference to the will of Vatican II that" every religious order or congregation hold
a special General Chapter within the next couple of years to update itself
according to the mind of the Church as expressed in the body of conciliar texts.
Father General then went on to suggest that the Fathers might profitably put
themselves in the place of those Jesuits who took part in the famous Deliberatio
Primorum Patrum of 1539. (An English translation of that important discussion appears in the latest issue of WOODSTOCK LETTERS; all the Fathers here
received copies of the Latin text and this English version.) He stated that the
spirit of the Congregation's debate should be the same, though the early
Fathers were true founders of the Society while the present assembly were
heirs of their patrimony.
Following up this theme, Father General reminded all that they would be
held responsible for what they did with this patrimony since it was given as a
"talent" to them. The best guidelines they could follow here are in Paul VI's
Ecclesiam Suam. In that 1964 encyclical, the Pope declared that no updating
in the Church could be truly effective if it stemmed from archaicism, relativism,
naturalism, or immobilism.
Father General then explored some thoughts on the nature of an "lgnatian
election" and their applicability to the General Congregation. A valid election,
he noted, presupposes: ( 1) genuine indifference, not one of apathy but springing from absolute preference for what Christ wills; ( 2) a conscious rejection
of all egocentrism; ( 3) spiritual freedom, including especially freedom from
one's own prejudices and a respect for the freedom of others as a condition of
"common dialogue." Given these conditions, the Trinity can work in us. This
was a commonplace of St. Ignatius' teaching.
Meaningful dialogue, on the divine model, will also mean openness to the
Spirit speaking through the mediation of the Church in its pronouncements
and decrees. "If our dialogue is begun in a spirit of faith, in indifference, in
love of the Cross, and in spiritual freedom," Father General went on, "we
will discover the suggestions of the Holy Spirit in it." This demands, he remarked, being open to light from every source, from all the rest of the Society
and from the deepest yearnings of today's world.
2 All resumes of the triduum conferences are taken from the English-language
Newsletter 21 of September 10, 1966.
9
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
Finally, the General Congregation must enter on its "election" with two key
attitudes: ( 1) a mingling of proper modesty or humility together with inner
freedom and magnanimity; ( 2) a "holy daring" that admits of full realism in
assessing the costs and consequences of a decision but will suffer no postponement or watering down of gospel principles and Jesuit ideals. \Vhatever
the Congregation decides, it must decide "boldly and with great confidence
in the sense of vocation in Ours, both old and young."
September 6, 1966
Intermezzo--The Sound of Music
At supper last night we had a double surprise. We had been on
silence since yesterday morning, that is, there was no recreation after
dinner or supper. So there was no news coming from anywhere else.
At supper the reader, after reading the Scripture, stopped and said
something like this: "Vespere, audiemus concertum organi ex Ioannis
Sebastiani Bach operibus" (This evening we will hear an organ concert
from the works of Johann Sebastian Bach). I was already a little surprised to hear them telling us about an organ concert during the triduum,
and I thought that this was going to be some special affair on television.
But no, the organ concert took place during supper in place of the
reading! I could not help smiling at hearing the first notes of Bach,
but Fr. Swain, who was opposite me, gave the appearance of finding
all this quite normal.
During supper I reflected on the beauty and variations of the Jesuit
vocation, to the strains of Bach's "Toccata and Fugue." But that wasn't
all. Right in the middle of the piece I saw one of my neighbors get up,
make the sign of the cross, and leave. At first I thought that he had
been called elsewhere on some urgent business, but a little while later
another did the same thing. I took them for barbarians unable to appreciate the beauties of the concert, but the exodus continued. I finally
realized that each one could leave when he was finished.
Second Conference
For his points on the second day of the triduum Father General treated of
the "special character" of our Jesuit following of Christ and the gospel. He
found the key in ,St. Ignatius' conception of an apostle as an "instrument of
God." \Vhat is there in the nature of an instrument or of instrumentality that
can guide us here? Certainly we must be aware of the great need for union
with the principal cause of the instrument's activity, seeing too that the greater
the work the more intimate this union must be. At the same time, one needs
an awareness of the weakness and limitations of the instrument. Thus, St.
Ignatius could speak of "this least Society" in all sincerity.
\Ve must have a sense, also, of the whole Society as a chosen instrument for
the advance of the Kingdom. This depends, to be sure, on the disponibility
of individual Jesuits, but the common aim must be to make the whole Society
10
�CONGREGATION
a more perfect instrument for the "better, more solid, more universal" service
of the Church. In the concrete, this demands of each man a deeper sense of
union with God, of dependence on and openness to the will of the Father as
"sons in the Son."
Finally, with that "marvelous realism, sense of practicality and sincerity"
of St. Ignatius, we must face up to the necessity of death to the old man
that the "new man" of St. Paul may come alive in us. If there are any who
doubt the relevance of this consideration, they have misunderstood the very
notion of participating in the mystery of Christ or else have focused on the
meaning of separate acts of abnegation rather than on the "loving trust"
that seeks expression in them. Here is something for both old and young in the
Society to rediscover.
September 7, 1966
"Rome calling"
There is an announcement on the rec room bulletin board about the
Curia acquiring a radio transmitter-receiver for the purpose of being
able to contact Jesuits throughout the world. A Vatican Radio operator
comes to give lessons to some of the fathers here. And here is the interesting thing for our Canadian amateurs. They advise us that if any
provincial or delegate wants to speak with members of his province,
he has only four conditions to fulfill, that is, to specify: ( 1) the day;
(2) the Greenwich time; (3) the length: 20 meters; (4) the frequency. . .. The General intends to use it a good deal.
Polyglot Congregation
It seems that the Latin language is going to lose its priority in the
dining room. An announcement on the board tells us that at noon they
will test having readings in vemacular languages. Four languages have
been chosen: English, French, Spanish, and Italian. They will read excerpts from articles published in our periodicals and apt to be of interest
to the fathers. I wonder if they are going to find such articles in
Relations or College et Famille or Actualite or Messager.
And still they come
We are beginning to receive new postulata presented by the delegates.
One deals with the Gregorian University, another with the reform of
the common rules, and another with the re-evaluation of the manifestation of conscience. This last one is numbered 1959. All records have
been broken, and the avalanche of postulata continues.
Third Conference
The last conference of the triduum dealt with union in the Society and
specifically with personal union in the General Congregation. Father General
opened by noting that the unity of the Society was a living reality for St.
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Ignatius and for men like St. Francis Xavier. St. Ignatius, in fact, was convinced that a special union among Jesuits was essential for the survival of
the Society and that it was equally a product of Christ's grace. We are all
asked from the moment of our entrance into the Society to consider ourselves
a part of it. The friendship that exists among us should thus be "fully
fraternal, human, sincere, cordial, and properly the result of grace." For us
Jesuits today, as for the band that gathered in Paris in 1534, our link, of
course, is Christ.
Vatican II tells us that full fraternal union is the sign by which every
religious family or congregation makes evident the coming of Christ (Decree
on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life, No. 15). Here, then is the
reason for St. Ignatius' unaccustomed sternness when he speaks of those members who threaten the unity of the Society of Jesus. Unity is essential and it
is something that all must work to preserve. Particularly if we are to strive
for authentic renewal and progress in unity, we must observe the rules of
dialogue as laid down, for instance, by Paul VI in Ecclesiam Suam. At the
same time we cannot ignore the importance in this regard of that "bond of
wills" and "inner consensus" that should be the result of obedience and a
basis of loving union in the Society. Here is one of the results that the early
Fathers in their Deliberatio of 1539 hoped would flow from the exercise
of authority in the Society as a "ministry of unity" and a "service."
On the matter of personal union in the General Congregation, Father General
recalled that, if St. Ignatius saw union in general among all Jesuits as a
hallmark of the Society, he looked upon a congregation as the unique celebration of that union. For him a congregation would be an event at which "the
whole Society, as it were, is present." Each member of a general congregation,
Father General reminded all, is to inform himself about the needs and affairs
of the whole Society. Even though the electors have been named by the several
provincial congregations, their real task is to do and say what they think best
for the entire, undivided Society.
Once again, Father General stressed the clear importance of fostering true
dialogue in the Congregation. In this regard he called attention to the deep
fears expressed by St. Francis Borgia at the close of the 2nd General Congregation. The saint then voiced grave concern over the harm to union in the
Society if the members of the Congregation did not let bygones be bygones
and forget the debates that seem to have so deeply divided them.
On the same point of preserving union of spirits, Father General urged the
Fathers to keep in mind St. Ignatius' own Praesupponendum at the start of
the Spiritual Exercises for a fair hearing to every man. He also suggested that
this Congregation might well borrow a lesson from a pertinent passage in
Vatican II's Decree on the Ministry and Life of Priests, No. 8: "Older priests
should receive younger priests as true brothers and give them a hand with
their first undertakings and assignments in the ministry. They should likewise
try to understand the mentality of younger priests, even though it be different
from their own, and should follow their projects with good will. For his own
part, a younger priest should respect the age and experience of his seniors.
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He should discuss plans with them, and willingly cooperate with them in
matters which pertain to the care of souls."
September 8, 1966
A spiritual look back
The introductory triduum is finished. Now that it has been tried,
I think it was a good idea, perfectly carried off. On the physical level,
it was a complete success. About ninety-five percent of the delegates
made the triduum. As far as I have been able to determine, there could
not have been many more than a dozen missing. It is more difficult to
evaluate spiritually. I think certain major ideas must have carried weight:
the conditions for making a good election (i.e., for accomplishing one's
duty as a member of the Congregation), the need for union with Christ
to act supernaturally, and the unity which must be preserved in the
Society. The doctrine is classical, even if it was dressed up with quotations from the decrees of Vatican II. Strong emphasis was put on Christ
as leader of the Society, as the head from whom everything derives, as
well as on the need for abnegation, fraternal charity, indifference (in
the sense of preferring the will of God), etc.
Nostalgia
I must be getting old and sentimental. The other evening, at the end
of an hour's adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, all the fathers present
sang the Salve Regina after the blessing was given; and this took me
thirty years back to l'Ile Saint-Ignace where we spent holidays when
we were novices and juniors. As I listened to this crowd of fathers
singing our old Salve Regina to the same melody, I saw once again our
Maison de Saint-Ignace, with all of us in the tribune at ten o'clock at
night singing this hymn to the Virgin, while on the river a ship slowly
passed by with all its lights shining brightly.... Surely Rome is making
me sentimental. . . . Still, there is something there-fathers from all
parts of the world, of every language and nation, being able to sing
that way the same praise of the Virgin in the same language to the same
melody. I wonder if it will be possible to repeat this feat at the next
Congregation. . . .
Music, prayer, and theology
At supper last night we had two little serenades with flute and harpsichord. They're keeping it up! After supper we had our meeting with
Father General in the recreation room. \Ve got in line, and each one in
turn shook hands with the General, who had some appropriate little
greeting for each of us as we went by.
Beforehand we had a Bible vigil in the chapel. Note this: the whole
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thing was in French. The officiants were Frs. Giuliani (France),
Franchirnont (Belgium), Rondet (France), and Harvey (Canada). Fr.
Giuliani, who presided, gave the homily entirely in French.
Jesuit liturgy: new and old
This morning at 8:30 we had a solemn concelebrated ~lass for the
official opening of the Congregation. The General was surrounded by
twenty-four priests representing all the assistancies, with our Fr. Fortier
(Provincial of Quebec) among them. Now there was a concelebration
with real scope to it. At the gospel, Fr. Oiiate sang in a magnificent voice
the otherwise quite commonplace words, "Abraham genuit Isaac, Isaac
autem genuit Ja.cob ..." and so on up to "de qua natus est Christus."
There are hidden talents in our Society! At the preface it was the
General's tum, and he sang out with vigor and ease, using all the new
melodies. It was a pleasure for me to hear our fine new preface for
solemn feasts. And there was something else new. The twenty-four concelebrants sang-that's right, sang-the Canon of the Mass together,
even the "Hoc est ... meum." I learn something new every day.
~
September g, 1g66
Today it is hot, just as it was during those fine days of the first session.
In other words, the thermometer is hovering between 85° and goo,
and sometimes it goes up to gsa. This means that the delegates are
much more attracted toward the Pepsi supply, to which has been added
this year a new sign: MIRINDA, a kind of orange juice made by the
same Pepsi company. As for the Pope, he is at Castel Gandolfo and
has not seen us since we arrived. These meetings around the Pepsi
cooler are very useful for picking up news and getting to know one
another. Fr. In§nee Desrochers takes considerable advantage of this . . .
and I am keeping an eye on his. instruction. In the last issue of America,
I read the article by Fr. Leary entitled "The Wisdom of Being Apart,"
on the need to maintain grammar schools, secondary schools, and
Catholic universities in the United States. I was engaged in discussion
with the author, who is present at the Congregation, and was congratulating him on taking a stand and telling him that in Canada the same
problem has arisen, when Fr. Desrochers arrived. I told Fr. Leary,
"Here is someone you must get to read your article. He's our new provincial and he has to make some decisions on this very matter of the
future of our secondary schools." They introduced themselves, and Fr.
Desrochers told him that he, too, had just finished reading his article.
This pleased Fr. Leary, because all this uproar being made in the United
States aimed at getting the Jesuits to abandon their high schools and
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universities seems artificial to him: "Who's asking for this? Not our
present students, not our alumni, not the parents of our students-but
Catholics who want to get completely mixed in with the general mass
of the population, and also Jesuits who no longer want to teach in our
high schools and universities . . . . " Fr. Carrier was passing by at that
moment, and I caught him, too, to read the article and chat with Fr.
Leary. Two more articles are coming on the topic.
Linguistic poles
I've already said that with the new arrangement of tables in the
dining room I lost my chance to land at the General's table. It seems
now that the matter is definitely closed since the General has been given
a place right in the middle of the refectory, by the wall. I would have
to go back half the length of the refectory to reach there. However, I
notice the new system favors small groupings by language. \Vith the
huge tables used before, you took your place in the next spot when you
got there, without worrying about who was next to you. But now, little by
little, the tables are being filled, if not according to nationality, at least
according to language.
The difficulties of the job
Last night, during recreation after supper, I went up to the roof to
take a walk with a group of French fathers. ·when they saw me arrive,
one of them shouted out!
Silence! Quiet! Mum's the word! Anything you say to him is liable to be
reported to Canada and eventually wind up back in France. Listen to what
happened to me last year. Father came up to me and said: "Fr. Socius of
Montreal would like to know if you have dephases fathers, and what you do
with them."
All unsuspecting, I replied: "Do we have any dephases?! Enough to populate
your entire province!"
"But what do you do with them?"
At that point another father, a delegate from the Near East, immediately
answered: "He sends them to the Near East."
I had completely forgotten this incident until, one fine day, I received a
phone call from a father arriving from the Near East: "Sol I'm a dephase!"
I was surprised and didn't understand what he meant, and so I asked him
about it. "Why, at Rome, during the General Congregation, you said that
you send these dephases to the Near East."
"I beg your pardon. I'm not the one who said that. It was a father from the
Near East. But who told you about this?"
"I read it in a series of letters by a Canadian father .... "
Now you understand why I say "Silence!" Anything you say is liable to be
interpreted against you.
None of this prevented the group from speaking as freely as before....
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Aside from the concelebrated Mass, the opening day of this second
session was relatively free of ceremony. Shortly after the Mass, the
Fathers took their assigned places in the aula. . . . The meeting began
with a brief prayer and then Father General's address 3 • • • •
Father General's allocution: Great Expectations
The talk opened with some remarks on the importance and difficulty of the
job ahead. Then Father General reviewed in some detail the work of preparation that had gone on during the intersession. Finally, he discussed what the
Society expected of the Congregation and what it should do in response.
In some ways, Father General said at the start, this session faces a harder
job than the first, even though it has the help of the decress of Vatican II
and the advantage that the members know one another, have had experience
and added study, and can profit from the work of the periti and others. Still,
the problems this session faces are harder because of the nature of the subjects
to be treated and of developments in the intersession. At the same time, expectations both inside and outside the Society are great. The fact is that the
Congregation faces "profound, complicated, and immense problems of every
sort" and it faces them in what some call "a period of transition; others, of
crisis; others, of evolution; others, of degeneration; others, of imminent chaos."
In speaking of preparations for the second session, Father General first mentioned the work of the Coordinating Committee under the direction of Fr.
Vincent O'Keefe. He singled out for special praise the periti or experts,
particularly those who had been associated with the work of Vatican II, for
their generous work. Then he reviewed briefly a series of other meetings and
events that contributed at least indirectly to the work of preparation:
( 1) approval by the Pope of the first session's determination on poverty;
( 2) work by Frs. John McGrail and Ansgar Simmel on setting up simultaneous
translation systems for meetings of the Congregation that are not official;
( 3) various meetings of experts with a view to setting up a Council of Technical Advisors to the General: (a) on communications media, under Fr. Robert
Claude; (b) on renovation and development of Vatican Radio; (c) on lgnatian
spirituality, under Fr. Maurice Giuliani at Paris, and on the Exercises, under
Frs. John Swain and Clemente Espinosa, at Loyola in Spain; (d) on financial
operations, under Frs. Romulus Durocher and Raymond 'Valter together with
several lay experts; (e) on educational work and the creation of a center
for research and coordination, under Frs. Vincent O'Keefe and John Blewett;
(f) on missionary work, one gathering of mission superiors at Syracuse, N.Y.,
in the United States of America, and two similar meetings in Rome; (g) on
aid to less developed areas; (h) on public relations, under Fr. Vincent O'Keefe;
( i) on social questions and social science, with 25 experts meeting here in
Rome; ( j) on a sociological survey of the whole Society, with the same
experts; (k) on confronting the challenge of atheism, under Fr. Andrew
Varga; ( 1) on work with international organizations, with fathers in that
work meeting in Paris; ( 4) study of letters from province and house consultors
a The following summary is taken from Newsletter 21.
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in order to review the true state of the Society and particularly the problem
of defections; (5) Father General's own visits to Northern Italy, the Near
East, Mrica, France, and the United States of America, which he regards as
a great benefit and the result of a wise recommendation from the first session
of the General Congregation.
Under the heading of expectations for the General Congregation, Father
General spoke first of the variety of attitudes towards the Congregation and
then of what the Congregation should set as its goals. There are, in the first
place, some who expect from the Congregation the answers to all problems,
including those of a doctrinal nature, even though the Congregation is only
"a sort of legislative body that lays down norms and practical criteria and
does not dare to enunciate doctrinal solutions." Others stand off in indifference
and give almost the impression of not regarding themselves as members of
the same family. Still others are fearful of the Congregation, either because
it may change so many things that they won't recognize the Society anymore,
or because it will lack breadth of vision, openness and daring to do all that
should be done. Finally, there are those who have a calm, realistic confidence
that the Congregation will come up with all the necessary answers, even
though not with the answer to everything.
What is the Congregation to do? Father General proposed four main tasks.
The first, to affirm our basic principles in a clear, intelligible fashion. This
will demand sincere freedom of spirit and a sense of the supernatural logic
taught by St. Ignatius in the Exercises and Constitutions. The statement of
principles must be one that can be understood by both old and young, though
both may have to accommodate themselves to its phrasing in some degree.
In making it, however, the Congregation must beware of historicism, psychologicism, triumphalism, immobilism, or progressism. !\lore specifically, Father
General stressed that the Congregation must not be overtimid. Rather, it
should say what must be said about our basic principles without fear of
offending the younger members of the Society. The young of today admire
sincerity, daring, realism, and brevity. Let the Congregation, then, follow
the gospel injunction: "Let your speech be Yea, Yea, and No, No" (Matt.
5:37). To speak otherwise, to take refuge in beautifully phrased bromides,
would not satisfy the generous youth of today.
Secondly, the Congregation must seek to clarify the concrete application of
these principles to situations of today's world. This will require careful use
of the discernment of spirits and the rules for election, as well as a sketching
out of the proper countenance of a twentieth-century Jesuit.
The third task should be to consider how best to go about forming or
developing such a Jesuit as the Congregation envisions. This will mean taking
a realistic, even perhaps a radical, look at the whole present structure of
formation in the Society.
Finally, the Congregation must concern itself with building up a sense or
understanding of common life and community. "In a word," Father General
concluded, "if we wish to achieve unity in today's Society, it will help to have
a well-defined goal, to map out the path wisely, and to set forth proper
guidelines with loftiness of vision and sincerity."
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There has been little new since my last letter. The Congregation is
digesting the tons of paper prepared for it between the sessions; it has
not yet begun to sit in full session. I have spent the morning reading
the results of the work done by the experts and the periti called upon
between the two sessions.
From an experienced spiritual father
It seems to me that you would be interested in knowing some of the
observations on the spiritual life in the Society. Here are some that came
from an American father:
. . . The Congregation should not be content with producing abstract
decrees and pointing out the ideal to be attained; it should also indicate the
concrete means of making these decrees and this ideal become part of Jesuit
living. Otherwise, they will be received as mere wishful thinking. If the
Congregation really wants Jesuits to have a better formation with regard to
the Spiritual Exercises, it should not be content with formulating an ideal,
but it should give concrete directives.
The annual retreat
For a few years we have to allow wide room for experimentation. For
example, after three or four years in the Society, our scholastics should be
able to enjoy greater initiative in making their annual retreat. The retreat
master could give points twice a day and make some suggestions concerning
the matter for the other meditations of the day, or attendance at points could
be ad libitum several times a day. That would allow the retreat master to
devote more time to the scholastics, either individually or in small groups.
Exercises of piety
The Congregation ought to produce a statement on the necessity of Jesuits
being men of a solid interior life if they wish to respond to the needs of the
world and of the Church. l\lany Jesuits today doubt that it is useful or
necessary to be en!irely known by their superior, because most of the time,
especially in large communities; the superior is rather an administrator.
Every decree on mental prayer should be preceded by a pastoral declaration
on the place and need for prayer in the Society today. Decrees will not be
enough to satisfy the aspirations of the younger men. The declaration in
question should not be made up of citations from the Constitutions, but it
should be adapted to the way of thinking of today's Jesuit. It will have to
answer the most current objections now in circulation.
I believe there are more things going on each moment in people's lives
today than was the ease in the days of St. Francis Borgia and Fr. Aquaviva.
Modern man is much quicker at getting down to work. A simple comparison
between modem spiritual literature and the spiritual writing of the BorgiaAquaviva era clearly shows that "a much more business-like approach to
spiritual matters is characteristic of our age." Having to face an hour of
prayer, today's scholastics, even the best of them, spend a good part of this
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time for prayer waiting for the bell to ring. This problem will not be solved
by better spiritual direction, better instruction in prayer, or a more mortified
life. There are some excellent scholastics who have had all that and who,
despite that, do not know what to do during the hour of meditation. Therefore one solution remains: to cut this hour of meditation in half.
The examination of conscience
The Congregation should put out a pastoral declaration on the place of the
examination of conscience in the life of a Jesuit, showing that, instead of being
a concentration on one's own sins, it ought to be an exercise in the discernment of spirits, a help in finding God in all things. The Congregation should
also abandon a fixed length of time and specify that the examen should be
made twice a clay, when this is reasonably possible....
There you have a resume of the observations made by a good American
spiritual father. And this is only one of many reports sent to us. . . .
September 15, 1966
The Congregation is getting under way slowly, too slowly to suit
those thinking about the possibility of returning home by the end of
October. This morning in the reading room an American reading the
New York Herald Tribune suddenly came across an article that seemed
to amuse him very much, and he exclaimed: "That's for us; that should
be our motto!" Some others went over, and he told them: Read thisthe paper's announcing the end of the Congregation. Across half the
page was a large headline: "HOME FOR CHRISTMAS." In fact, however, it was about ending the war in Vietnam and bringing the American soldiers back for Christmas. . . .
Music in the dining room-Bach, Haydn, Handel-continues to delight us each evening. This innovation stirs up some lively discussions
at recreation. Someone referred us to the article in the September, 1966,
lttudes by Henri Engelman: "l'v!usique pour tous."
Psychoanalysis
A provincial indicated the conditions he set for those fathers who ask
to be allowed to undergo psychoanalysis: ( 1) that the father continue
working; ( 2) that a supervisor of the dialogue be present; ( 3) that the
father being psychoanalyzed also have a dialogue with his own spiritual
father; and ( 4) that the treasurer agree to pay. . . .
\Ve wanted more details on two of these conditions. It seemed that
the first condition is the most effective: ergotherapy, that is, treatment
by work. Many fathers have complexes because they are not working
enough or because the work they are doing is not suited to their
psychological condition. It is the role of the ergotherapist to find the
kind of work that fits each one, but it must be a work that at least
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defrays the cost of the treatment the father undergoes. As to the second
condition, it consists in giving the father asking to undergo psychoanalysis someone who will observe him while he dialogues with others
and, to begin \vith, to see if he actually does it.
Renewal in procedure
The first two sessions have, in effect, been taken up with procedural
questions. It was necessary, for example, to vote on whether the Congregation would excuse Fr. Jean d'Auteuil Richard, the former Provincial
of MontreaL from coming to Rome.
The procedure has been completely recast, introducing, for example,
points of order, which some people seem to be just discovering. Just as
at the Council, the Congregation has provided itself with a council of
moderators, leaving to the General the task of naming its members.
These are Frs. Dezza, Calvez, and Klubertanz. Yesterday Fr. Dezza
p;resided at the session, with Father General present. The experience of
the first session had shown that it was a great deal to ask of one and
the same man, Father General, to preside over and direct all the debates
every single day.... The General takes part in the sessions at his place,
but it is the vice-president he has named who is in charge of the debates.
As he usually does, Fr. Dezza carried out this job magnificently.
The first point submitted to the examination of the delegates has been
a schema entitled De conservatione et renovatione Instituti nostri. This
poor schema had been almost completely drafted last year and then
finished this year before the opening of the session. The observations
made on this topic by no means foreshadowed the storm that was going
to sweep down on it. The storm began with the comparison some people
attempted to make between the letter and spirit of this schema and the
documents of Vatican II, and especially the Motu proprio of Paul VI,
Ecclesiae Sanctae.
Here, for example, are sorrie of the remarks made about this schema:
":t\lihi omnino non placet. ... Sapit triumphalismum et spirat conservatismum." What attitude is the Congregation going to take with regard to
the directives of Ecclesiae Sanctae and the decrees Christus Dominus
and Perfectae Caritatis? Are we going to integrate them wholly into the
renewal of our Institute, or are we going to content ourselves with a
passing nod and afterwards have our own way? In Ecclesiae Sanctae it
says: "14. Those matters which are now obsolete ... should be excluded
from the fundamental code of the institutes .... 17. Those elements are
to be considered obsolete which do not constitute the nature and purpose of the institute and which, having lost their meaning and power,
are no longer a real help to religious life." Now, the schema presented
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to us aims at a fuzzy kind of canonization of everything that comes from
the past. Even if the word renewal is there, the reality isn't there. . . .
This impression has been very strong. At our second full session a
father proposed a point of order which would come down to sending
the schema back to its commission to have it redone and adapted according to the letter and spirit of Vatican II and Ecclesiae Sanctae. And
this is the way the Congregation voted. It really seems that this document
Ecclesiae Sanctae is going to exercise a great influence on the Congregation and that certain schemas that would have easily passed last year
have no chance of being adopted this year. That means that the renewal
promises to be much more adequate and profound than it could have
been at the time of the first session.
September 16, 1966
Little detente
A good number of fathers were in front of the television yesterday
afternoon watching the re-entry and splashdown of the American astronauts Conrad and Gordon. It was a fascinating thing to watch. This
broadcast went from 3:30 to 4:30 P.M. At 5 P.M. our session began;
the American fathers were glowing.
Television takes over
The organizer of the night-time colloquies, talks, and conferences last
year, has let it be known that the same sort of things will be impossible
this year because of television and, in particular, because of the news
program that comes on precisely at the time for recreation ....
The Communist dialogue
I was opposite a Belgian father at the noon meal yesterday. They
had just read an article in Spanish from Razon y Fe on a CatholicCommunist colloquy in which Roger Garaudy and Fr. Karl Rahner,
among others, took part. At Deo Gratias this father said: ''I've talked
with Garaudy; he's a charming man. He thinks of himself as forming
part of the egghead brigade of the Communist Party."
On my right there was a Polish father who had taken refuge in
London and who was serving as a substitute for the fathers who could
not come from Poland. He said to me: "The Communists are all for
dialogue as long as they're not in power; as soon as they are, there's no
longer any question of having dialogue." I asked him if there was any
chance that the Polish fathers would be able to come to the Congregation. He answered me: "It's better that they not come." And, in response
to my surprised look, he added: "They will then be on the same footing
as the bishops (who cannot leave Poland), and the whole Polish nation
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will know that the government didn't allow the Jesuits to go to Rome
for their General Congregation. . . . It's better if it works out that
way.... "
The difficulties of drafting a text
The situation is different in each province or in each country. In one
province, for example, there is no room for Jesuits either in education
or in pastoral work, since the secular clergy takes care of that and, in
general, does a good job. The fathers are in para-priestly works and are
satisfied with them. A text obliging priests to do pastoral work would
run the risk of being inapplicable in this province.
Another case: one Jesuit works in astronomy and maintains that he
is fulfilling his Jesuit and priestly v JcatLn, whi!e another \viii not admit
that a Jesuit priest should just carry on secular activity without ever
de1ing pastoral work.
-··Another difficulty: in the United St<;tes the Society is especially successful when there is a community carrying on a common work; therefore, we have to recommend those works in which the Society is acting
as such. But, the French, Belgians, and Canadians would answer, in
our situation we are prepared to accept a well-prepared Jesuit who will
work at his specialty but not at the same time to have the whole community backing him up.
Father General intervenes
At the same session yesterday, during which a father had urged the
General to intervene to put a stop to certain unfortunate experiments,
Father General made a statement, the substance of which I will give
you here:
All of us are for the spiritual renewal of the Society. That is the thing
that matters, much more than. the renewal of texts, even if this also has to
be done. Unfortunately, renewal and adaptation are too often carried out today according to the method of "fails accomplis," something that has ill-fated
consequences. This method continues to exist because superiors are pulled in
every direction and do not have clear directives coming from the Congregation.
Therefore, this Congregation hr,s to map out the way, indicate the goals to
be attained, the reforms that arc necessary, and the means for accomplishing
them. If the Congregation succeeds in this task, I am confident that the sounder
elements in the Society will follow and will carry out the needed reforms.
'Ve have very often alluded to the documents of Vatican II, to the decree
Perfectae Caritatis, and to the rules for their application in Ecclesiae Sanctae.
In my capacity as superior general I took part in the commission which prepared these decrees and rules. I personally have been greatly surprised at the
respect and the reverence that the others show toward the Institute of the
Society. The thing-s we arc ready to throw overboard arc often the very things
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the other congregations envy us and admire the most about us. The Sovereign
Pontiff, when he spoke to the members of our commission, said that he wished
above all for a renewal of the religious spirit, an adaptation that would bring
about greater holiness in the life of each religious.
Father General ended his remarks with these words: "Mediocritas
hodie pe1mitti non potest in vita religiosa!" (Mediocrity cannot be permitted in religious life today.)
This evening we are beginning the discussion on grades in the Society.
Each camp is gathering its ammunition.
September 17, 1966
"Assueta vilescunt"
The proverb assueta vilescunt is being realized, and a good deal of
the wonder of last year has fallen off. . . . Perhaps, too, life at the Curia
has become simpler, more ordinary, less liable to inspire awe. The dining room, for example, is completely transformed. vVhen we arrived
for the first session, the tables of honor, where the Vicar General, and
then all the Assistants, sat, was quite a spectacle to behold. It was a
forbidden place for the rest of us . . . . Some time after the General's
election, the Assistants began to mix in with the other delegates. Today
we don't even know where the General is any longer, and the Assistants
are spread out throughout the whole dining room. I had two of them at
my table at noon, and our table seemed quite ordinary.
The General also conmbutes to this loosening up. vVhen he shows
up somewhere--in the recreation room, or at haustus (at 11 A.M. or
4 P.M., for now there is a morning haustus with cheese, coffee, and
Pepsi), life goes on, and he himself mixes in with the groups.
"This is Father General ..."
One of the General's favorite pastimes is trying out his new radio
and contacting Jesuits throughout the world. Last night an American
father succeeded in speaking with him, and the General was able to
make out part of his transmission.
A third session ... grades
Hang on to your hat! They've begun talking about a third session,
perhaps without putting much credence in it, but they're talking about
it! The occasion for this has been the debate that has resumed on the
question of the abolition of grades. Some people have made this the
sign par excellence of the Society's aggiornamento. Last year a similar
debate, a very animated and impassioned one, took place, but the Congregation decided then by a two-thirds majority to keep grades in the
Society, while making profession more accessible to a greater number.
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
Consequently, the subcommission had prepared a decree setting forth
the new conditions for admission to solemn profession, conditions which
reduced the importance of the famous ad grad exam. It is this text
which is now before the Congregation for approval. One after another,
the adversaries of grades have taken advantage of the fact that this
discussion had been started to call for the suppression of grades and to
ask to have the debate on grades reopened. But this question is one of
the substantials of the Institute and requires a qualified majority for
it to be discussed and still another to be changed . .\Ioreover, it is necessary to have the approbation of the Holy See, whence the suggestion or,
if you wish, the threat of a third session ....
The two days devoted to this question have been quite lively. One
of the principal arguments invoked is that the conciliar documents, including the decree Perfcctac Caritatis and the Motu proprio Ecclesiae
San"ctae, call for this move. But people do not agree on the implications
of these docuP.1ents.
One father was of the opinion that we should follow the example
given with regard to the poverty question, The Congregations that preceded our own prepared the ground; our Congregation cannot immediately settle such a problem, but it can pronounce on the principle involved and entrust the further work to a commission . . . . If we embark
upon this enterprise, all the other problems will be delayed all the more,
and then a third session \Yill be needed. In that case, I would immediately ask to pass to the rank of spiritual coadjutor!
Another declared: Since we're involved in getting rid of distinctions,
I asked that the coadjutor brothers also be admitted to the solemn profession. They're part of the same family and often deserve the title as
much as the others who have it now .
. . . If we embark upon this question, the Congregation is going to
last longer than the Council. ·. . . Let's not forget that a commission is
busy revising the canon law of the Church. Therefore, let's not be in
too much of a hurry to change our Constitutions, for fear that our
changes will not agree with the demands of the new canon law and
that we may have to begin all over again later on.
I have saved for the end the chief attraction among the interventions,
one by an Indian father:
In India, in my country, we used to have the caste system, a system that
had some value in times past. But later on we made a new constitution, and
we abolished this system. If non-Christians, inspired by human motives, were
able to make such a gesture, how is it that we who are Christians and who
ought to be inspired by supernatural motives would not dare to abolish the
caste system that prevails in the Society?
24
�CON GREGA'fiON
And raising his voice, the father shouted out with mighty indignation,
as did Cato of old: "Ego dico: ABOLENDA EST ista distinctio
graduuml"
This father spoke without reading, improvising as he went along,
gesturing, and raising his voice. The Congregation listened to him as it
has rarely listened to any speaker, and-an extraordinary thing-it applauded him when he finished his intervention. Several people went up
to congratulate him as we left.
If I were to judge from the interventions made by the fathers from
India, it would seem that this distinction of grades causes scandal in
that country, since it is undoubtedly reminiscent of the distinction of
castes.
The discussion is going to resume. It is worth noting that no one up
to now has criticized the new decree before the Congregation, but that
everyone has been attacking the very structure of grades in the Society.
At some point the Congregation will have to make a decision on the
advisibility or inadvisibility of taking back last year's vote, which, by
the necessary two-thirds, was not in favor of suppressing grades.
For the moment, it is not easy to foresee how the majority will decide,
nor even whether a qualified majority can be obtained on such a topic
at the present Congregation.
September 20, 1966
Walking in the Square
The other night I was walking in St. Peter's Square at around nine
o'clock; it was nearly deserted. I was with an American father and a
young provincial from India, an intelligent and likable man. He told us
that the Jesuits of his province (about 400 of them) are far from being
troubled and tormented as those of Europe or America are. Only some
of them, the ones who read European periodicals, raise the same problems as in those countries. I asked him if the problem of priestly celibacy comes up in his province. He said that it doesn't, because priestly
celibacy is just about the only external that draws the attention of
Indians to Catholic priests. The vow of obedience is something that
can't be seen. The vow of poverty isn't any more evident, since in India
Jesuit poverty is not a sign for external edification, given the fact that
the vast majority of the population lives in greater poverty. This leaves
the vow of chastity: this is the great Catholic, religious sign, the one
that attracts the people and young men to the Society. And so they
don't talk about priests getting married in his province.
My other companion shares Fr. Rahner's vision of the future of
Catholicism and the Church in the world: he sees both of them dimin-
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
ishing in numbers, while huge non-Christian masses of humanity are
being formed, masses over which the Church has no hold. This is the
pusillus grex theory, according to which Catholics are destined to become an ever smaller minority in a vast world. The father also applies
this theory to the Society. In the United States, as in Canada, he believes, the Society has reached its apogee and can only go into a decline.
Our formation drives us in this direction. \Ve take young men full of
life and enthusiasm, and we put them into those deep-freezers and
brainwashing machines we call our novitiates and scholasticates. At the
end of ten years of this treatment, they have become incapable of thinking for themselves or of revolutionizing anything whatever-and do you
think that that's going to result in Jesuits setting the world on fire?
They're barely capable of going out and buying bus tickets for themselves!
The young provincial from India listened with attention. He found
the ·father's remarks stimulating and provocative, but he did not share
them entirely, at least not for his own province. He recalled that he has
often heard the Society blamed for taking in the best boys in the schools
and not always making first-raters of them in its ministries. I pointed
out to him that, this very noon, a master of novices reminded us of the
question that Fr. Nadal had already asked during the first years of the
Society: "How does it happen that, with such good colts, we end up
with such bad horses?"
Obedience
This whole question of obedience, my companion said, has come down
to restudying the function of society today and of the work to be done
in it by the Society. We must rid it of all the vestiges of monastic orders
and feudal society; we live in a pluralistic, democratic society, one that
is open and subject to rapid change. The problem being posed, consequently, is one of maintaining ·cooperation without destroying personal
initiative and responsibility.
The superior should direct the whole community and its members,
who are supposed to be adults. For the authority-obedience polarity to
function well, superiors and inferiors must be equally devoted to the
work of the apostolate; it is the whole community, superiors and inferiors, which should feel responsible for the growth of the Mystical
Body around it and within it. A Jesuit consecrated, by his vows, to the
apostolate has the duty of developing himself, for if superiors are to
make use of him somewhere, they ought to have something to make
use of. . . . The young men must be reminded of their present duty
while being made aware of the needs of the society in which they live
and of its present and future needs, not those of the past.
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�CONGREGATION
Obedience will be an acute question when it comes up in the Congregation. No less provocative is the small pamphlet Obedience and
Authority, published by the America Press, which the American fathers
have just put in the reading room. The first article is entitled "Loyal
Opposition in the Church."4 This is the time, it writes, when tensions
are rising in the Church over the subject of obedience. What is to be
done when the authorities oppose changes that seem desirable? Some
quite simply disobey, others decide they can do nothing. Both are mistaken, for a third way exists, that of loyal opposition in the Church.
The Church is the people of God, the whole Church, not just the
hierarchy or superiors, but the whole people. The author traces the role
of loyal opposition in the Church and concludes: "Let those take heart
whom responsibility compels on a given question to stand fully obedient,
but in the opposition. They are serving the Church. They are the
Church."
At work
I have just come from a three-hour session. Several decrees have
been revoked and replaced by others more in conformity with the way
of thinking of the Vatican II Church. In the future, provincial congregations will be allowed to treat the substantials of the Institute.
At the session just ended, those opposed to grades in the Society were
to continue their argumentation. Sixteen had already handed in their
names, and almost as many were preparing to follow them. In the face
of this avalanche, the commission decided to put the question directly
to the Congregation: Does it wish to reopen the debate? If not, the
speakers will have to confine themselves to a criticism of the decree
before them; if it does, then a whole new procedure would be introduced, involving a certain number of questions, the last of which would
lead to a vote on the complete suppression of grades. The vote appeared to be of such importance that the Congregation decided to postpone it until tomoiTow morning so that each one would have time to
form a clear and accurate idea of the question.
September 21, 1966
Divertissement
Next week an important theological congress opens in Rome, and
people here are asking about the attitude the Pope will take on the
doctrinal questions. In any case, a notice posted on the board invites
the fathers to attend the conferences to be given at night by some of
these theologians, for example, Frs. Chenu and John Courtney Murray.
The title of the congress is "The Church Between Council and Synod."
4
By J, G. Milhaven, S.J,-ED.
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
The Society's image at the Vatican
Thunderbolt at the Congregation! At the beginning of the day's session, Father General took the floor and gave us an important communication. He had seen the Sovereign Pontiff. The Pope had shared with
him his desires and wishes with regard to the Society in general and
the present Congregation in particular. From the reports coming from
the nuncios and apostolic delegates throughout the whole world, the
Pope gave the General a sketch of the image which the Society projects
at present, and this image needs serious retouching. The Pope did not
wish to speak in public, for the press would be able to seize upon his
statements and do more harm than good, but he confided fully in the
General, commissioning him to communicate to the Congregation the
wishes of the Pope. And for a good quarter of an hour, the General
exposed for us, point by point, what the Pope had told him. UnfortunatelY,,for you and for me, the General ended by asking all of us to keep
the content of the Pope's message to the Congregation secret, at least
until further notice. I'm losing the biggest scoop of the year . . . and
so is Lettres de Rome . ...
Grades again
And the debates resume. The Congregation is literally hypnotized by
the problem of grades . . . . To believe some people, only the abolition
of grades can restore the younger men's confidence and make the
crooked ways straight.
I admit that the problems of the spiritual life seem to me to be a
great deal more important and more urgent, but there is nothing to be
done; we will just have to reopen the debate on the abolition of grades.
Yesterday sixteen speakers took the floor on this subject, but they said
little that we had not heard before. . . .
After all these fine speeches, a vote was taken to find out if we were
going to reopen the debate, and the Congregation voted for the affirmative. Over and above that, the first two weeks of October have been
set aside for this question. This means that it will not be before the
middle of October that the Congregation will tackle the really essential
questions, such as those on religious life, the apostolate, discipline, the
vows of obedience and chastity, the reforms called for by the Council
and the Pope. I'm beginning to believe that the newspaper was telling
the truth when it said: "Home for Christmas"!
Grinding on
After this success, the Congregation grappled with another marginal
problem. Some people think that there are too many delegates to the
Congregation and that the number has to be reduced. And so a com-
28
�CONGREGATION
rrusswn was named to study the problem, it made its report, and the
discussion was opened. Here again, partisans and adversaries faced each
other. One said: If the delegates are chosen well, there is no need to
have a big number. It is up to the provincial congregations to do their
job well. Another came out in opposition to a reduction in the number
of delegates, that is, from three for each province (the argument is that
the large provinces should have a representation in proportion to the
number of their members). In international organizations, he said, the
United Nations, for example, the small countries have the right to the
same representation as the large nations; Uruguay has the same number
of official delegates as the United States. At the Congregation, the
elector represents the whole Society, not just a faction, a section, or a
province.
Another answered that there is a considerable difference in the number
of professed among the different provinces and that the greater the
number of professed, the greater should be the representation. The response to this was that the argument from size is one that persuades
only those who are already persuaded. The same holds true for the
argument that the provinces with the most members are the ones that
have the most complex problems. On the contrary, it turns out that these
provinces are homogeneous, while some small mission provinces are very
complex, formed from different races, languages, cultures, etc. If the
provincials of the large provinces are afraid of seeing their problems
neglected, let them do what the bishops did at the Council, bring their
experts \vith them: sociologists, jurists, theologians, etc.
Someone proposed holding regional congregations in which delegates
from the provinces would come together and choose some from their
own number to be sent to the general congregation. Another observed
that the Curia has reached the saturation point for housing everybody
who comes, and he suggested holding the next Congregation at the
Colegio Latino-Americano, where there is air to breathe, plus more than
300 rooms.
Another one said: "You're trying to square a circle; you want to reduce
the number of delegates, and at the same time you want to increase the
representation of the large provinces. He suggested a fixed number:
Let's put it at 100, and let each province have its proportional representation.
Someone else was opposed to all reductions. It would be the smallest
provinces that would suffer; most of the time, these would be the mission provinces, the ones that are the most important for the future of
the Church. The disadvantages of large numbers are nothing compared
to the disadvantages that would arise if we reduced the representation
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
of the small provinces. Consider what happened at the Vatican Council.
There 'vere more than 2000 bishops there, and yet they ended up finding the formula for running the Council, with only one bishop from the
smallest diocese not present.
Finally, an old campaigner, who was attending his third General Congregation, came up and said: All your arguments for reducing the number-more fraternal contacts, more efficient work, etc.-aren't worth
much. I've taken part in the previous Congregations, where we were
much less numerous, and I can tell you that our contacts weren't more
personal and our work wasn't more efficient. ...
September 22, 1966
"Selective faith"
Last night we had a good discussion with some Americans about the
Timearticle (September 16) on Catholicism in the United States (p. 60:
"Roman Catholics, Selective Faith"). According to this article, young
Catholics are more and more inclined to judge for themselves what they
should take or leave in Catholic doctrine. In the past, a Catholic who
did not want to accept the entire teaching had no other choice but to
leave the Church; today, many consider themselves free to ignore or
to put aside important points of doctrine and still remain in the Church.
The point under discussion last night was that the same thing was happening in the Society. Faith becomes selective, that is, some Jesuits
select only what they want to get involved with in the Society and still
they remain in it with no feeling of remorse.
The article goes on to point out that a good number of baptized
Catholics live their lives outside of official Catholicism; they do not leave
the Church, but they no longer participate in its life. They say: ''I'm a
Catholic, but I no longer take the Church seriously." One person in
our group said that this is the--way some Jesuits act with regard to the
Society: they call themselves Jesuits, but no longer take part in the life
of the Society and no longer take it seriously.
For these Catholics, everything traditional and institutional becomes
an object of contempt and something to be discarded. Thus the Church
is passing through "a cultural crisis of the first order of magnitude."
What happened to the Jews and to the Protestants is going to happen
to the Church: within one and the same community of faith, it will
have to allow a whole rage of opinions, from the most complete submission to the most radical kind of questioning. It seems that this phenomenon is reaching the Society in the United States and in Canada.
But can the Society allow such tolerance and still continue to be the
Society? The question is haunting the Curia's recreation rooms, corridors,
30
�CONGREGATION
and private rooms before it enters the aula, as it soon will . . . when we
take up the problems of the spiritual life, discipline, and the vows.
Introspection
In the aula, talk has resumed on the advisibility of reducing the
number of delegates to the general congregation. There was nothing
new, and not a great deal that was interesting. One speaker compared
the congregation to Noah's ark: it's not necessary to have everybody
get in, but a pair well chosen is sufficient.
Book-hunting
While ferreting about in the basement, I came upon a place which
our Father Librarian would certainly call a depository, if not a dumpingground: a place filled with old papers, old boxes, old cartons, etc., and
surrounded by shelves on which old issues of the Memorabilia S.I. and
the Annuarium S.I. lie for ages to come. I climbed a winding staircase
and found myself in the main library of the Curia. This was the first
time that I had set foot in it, and I took advantage of the occasion to
examine the situation there. A huge catalogue is enthroned in the center
of things, and it's divided into three sections: author, subject, and place.
On the lower tier the periodicals are classified according to assistancies.
A section is reserved for Canada, and I discovered our publications there
carefully bound ....
The Jesuit librarian asked me if I was looking for something in particular. I said: "Yes, there are two recent works I would like to consult,
one by Harvey Cox, The Secular City, and the other by Karl Rahner,
Peut-on croire aujourd 'Inti?'' He immediately replied that he didn't
have either one. As for Harvey Cox, the librarian did not seem to know
either the name or the book. America is far away, and Cox does not
seem to have penetrated the Curia as he has the American and Canadian
seholasticates. I will just have to wait, then, unless I follow an American
father's advice and borrow the copy belonging to the Assistant from
the United States ....
Some decisions
When I came out of today's session of the Congregation, I realized
that it had been much shorter than I had thought. The main reason for
that is that the Congregation voted to preserve, quite simply, the old
state of affairs regarding the number of delegates to the general congregation, that is, the provincial and two elected delegates-all that,
after three days of debate. It also voted on having the Assistants take
part in general congregations, and it began the debate on coadjutor
brothers.
31
��THE COMMUNITY IN RELATION
TO THE APOSTOLATE
NoRBERT
J.
RIGALI,
S.J.
grou.:th in the understanding
and living of Jesuit community life
IF THE PURPOSE OF OUR DISCUSSION on the community in relation to
the apostolate is to promote development in the understanding and
living of community life in our apostolic order, what is presupposed
by the very scheduling of this discussion is that there is room and
need for such development. A possible point of departure, then,
which the discussion could take, is to examine this presupposition,
asking tvhy there is need today for growth in the understanding
and living of Jesuit community life. This is the point of departure
adopted here, since it seems to be the approach best suited for
achieving valid practical conclusions. For, to ask why there is need
for growth in our understanding of community life is to ask what
is wrong with our present understanding of it. The most intelligent
way to improve something is to see clearly first just what it is that
needs improvement and why.
It seems that our notion of community life is directly dependent
on at least two contexts: moral theology and ecclesiology. Since
moral theology is concerned with how the Christian should live
and act, it must influence directly the way in which the religious
understands how he should live and act in his specific form of the
Christian life, religious community life. Since religious community
life is by its very nature a certain kind of life within the Church,
the manner in which the Church is understood must likewise dec
termine directly the way in which community life is conceived.
33
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
Consequently, a deficiency in the methodology of moral theology
or in our understanding of the Church must be expected to produce
an inadequate notion of religious community.
As is well known, it is axiomatic among many theologians today
that moral theology became legalistic. Equally well known is the
fact that there is presently great ferment in this discipline, as moral
theologians, confronted by a very serious and urgent challenge,
work diligently to transform their science into one which is truly
scriptural and theological. But if it is true that moral theology has
been legalistic and insufficiently theological, the operative notion
of community life can hardly have been otherwise.
That our understanding of the Church may be deficient will not
seem to be a far-fetched idea, to be written off immediately, if we
recall that in his allocution inaugurating the second session of
Vatican II Pope Paul set as the first of the four goals of the Council
a new, more adequate self-understanding of the Church. It is not
strange, he said, if even after almost twenty centuries, the Church
discovers that it needs a better understanding of just what it is,
since the Church is ultimately a mystery. 1 Similarly, it is not surprising that the Society after four centuries finds itself today in
need of a better understanding of just what it is and what its
community life is. Indeed the Society must experience this need
after Vatican II, if the Society has meaning and can be understood
only within the context of the Church.
Primarily through its Dogmatic Constitution on the Church the
Council fulfilled the first of its goals. Here a new mentality or
perspective is presented: the Church is "the new People of God,"
the "messianic people."2 What Vatican II taught is that this is the
primary truth about the Church and the perspective in which all
aspects of the Church, including authority and hierarchy, 3 must
be seen. 4
Acta Apostolicae Sed is, Series 3, Vol. 5, 847ff.
Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Chapter II, Art. 9.
s Ibid., Chapter III, Art. 18.
4 In this perspective it becomes immediately evident, for example, that lay·
men are not fundamentally passive recipients in relation to priests, bishops
and pope; rather, they are "sharers in the priestly, prophetic and kingly
functions of Christ," and "they carry out their own part in the mission of
the whole Christian people with respect to the Church and the world" (Ibid.,
·Chapter IV, Art. 31 ) .
1
2
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�COMMUNITY
According to the Council; ·then, the' Church is riot to be seen in a
[Jerspective of authority, hierarchy, papal primacy or any other
juridical aspect of the life of the Church. Rather, the Church is
to be understood as people, the total community of people chosen
and called together by God himself and "sent forth into the whole
world as the light of the world and the salt of the earth." 5 Thus,
the tendency to think of 'the real Church' as the members of the
hierarchy, frequently operative in the past and even in the present,
has been vanquished in principle by Vatican II.
Pope Paul
If Pope Paul was right in stating that the Church needs to transform its understanding of itself, and if the Council in response did
anything more than simply repeat the notion of the Church which
was generally taught and learned and operative before the Council,
then members of the Society have the duty to re-think and transform in an analogous way their understanding of what the Society
is in the Church and what communities are in the Society. If the
reason why the self-understanding of the Church needed refom1
by the Council is that the operative and official concept of the
Church was excessively juridical and insufficiently theological,
fesuits must expect that the perspective in which we have been
accustomed to sec the Society and the community life of the Society
suffers from the same deficiency. Jesuits must expect also that, if
the operative notion of religious community has been inadequate,
this inadequacy has affected our thinking concerning all aspects of
community life (relations between superiors and other members,
authority, initiative, leadership, obedience, religious discipline, daily
order, etc.), and that, consequently, all these things fall within the
Held of what must be rethought and adapted to a new self-understanding of the Church.
A legalistic or excessively juridical approach to community life
has as its starting point a juridical fact. Religious community is
defined, for example, as a group of religious under the authority of
a religious superior. A theological approach to community life, on
the other hand, has as its starting point a consideration of realities
•vhich can never be fully externalized and are, therefore, not directly susceptible of or controllable by juridical regulation. Specifi5
Ibid., Chapter II, Art. 9.
35
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
Consequently, a deficiency in the methodology of moral theology
or in our understanding of the Church must be expected to produce
an inadequate notion of religious community.
As is well known, it is axiomatic among many theologians today
that moral theology became legalistic. Equally well known is the
fact that there is presently great ferment in this discipline, as moral
theologians, confronted by a very serious and urgent challenge,
work diligently to transform their science into one which is truly
scriptural and theological. But if it is true that moral theology has
been legalistic and insufficiently theological, the operative notion
of community life can hardly have been otherwise.
That our understanding of the Church may be deficient will not
seem to be a far-fetched idea, to be written off immediately, if we
recall that in his allocution inaugurating the second session of
Vitican II Pope Paul set as the first of the four goals of the Council
a new, more adequate self-understanding of the Church. It is not
strange, he said, if even after almost twenty centuries, the Church
discovers that it needs a better understanding of just what it is,
since the Church is ultimately a mystery. 1 Similarly, it is not sur·
prising that the Society after four centuries finds itself today in
need of a better understanding of just what it is and what its
community life is. Indeed the Society must experience this need
after Vatican II, if the Society has meaning and can be understood
only within the context of the Church.
Primarily through its Dogmatic Constitution on the Church the
Council fulfilled the first of its goals. Here a new mentality or
perspective is presented: the Church is "the new People of God,"
the "messianic people."2 ·what Vatican II taught is that this is the
primary truth about the Church and the perspective in which all
aspects of the Church, including authority and hierarchy, 3 must
be seen. 4
Acta Apostolicae Sedis, Series 3, Vol. 5, 847ff.
Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Chapter II, Art. 9.
3 Ibid., Chapter III, Art. 18.
4 In this perspective it becomes immediately evident, for example, that lay·
men are not fundamentally passive recipients in relation to priests, bishops
and pope; rather, they are "sharers in the priestly, prophetic and kingly
functions of Christ," and "they carry out their own part in the mission of
the whole Christian people with respect to the Church and the world" (Ibid.,
Chapter IV, Art. 31 ).
1
~
34
�COMMUNITY
According to the Council; then, the· Church is riot to be seen in a
perspective of authority, hierarchy, papal primacy or any other
juridical aspect of the life of the Church. Rather, the Church is
to be understood as people, the total community of people chosen
and called together by God himself and "sent forth into the whole
world as the light of the world and the salt of the earth.":; Thus,
the tendency to think of 'the real Church' as the members of the
hierarchy, frequently operative in the past and even in the present,
has been vanquished in principle by Vatican II.
Pope Paul
If Pope Paul was right in stating that the Church needs to transform its understanding of itself, and if the Council in response did
anything more than simply repeat the notion of the Church which
was generally taught and learned and operative before the Council,
then members of the Society have the duty to re-think and transform in an analogous way their understanding of what the Society
is in the Church and what communities are in the Society. If the
reason why the self-understanding of the Church needed refom1
by the Council is that the operative and official concept of the
Church was excessively juridical and insufficiently theological,
Jesuits must expect that the perspective in which we have been
accustomed to see the Society and the community life of the Society
suffers from the same deficiency. Jesuits must expect also that, if
the operative notion of religious community has been inadequate,
this inadequacy has affected our thinking concerning all aspects of
community life (relations between superiors and other members,
authority, initiative, leadership, obedience, religious discipline, daily
order, etc.), and that, consequently, all these things fall within the
field of what must be rethought and adapted to a new self-understanding of the Church.
A legalistic or excessively juridical approach to community life
has as its starting point a juridical fact. Religious community is
defined, for example, as a group of religious under the authority of
a religious superior. A theological approach to community life, on
the other hand, has as its starting point a consideration of realities
which can never be fully externalized and arc, therefore, not directly susceptible of or controllable by juridical regulation. Specifi-
-
5
Ibid., Chapter II, Art. 9.
35
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
cally, the theological approach sees religious community primarily
in terms of mysterious realities which are the gratuitous gifts of
the mystery called God: 6 the gifts of Christian faith and charity.
This approach is demonstrated by the 31st General Congregation,
when it stated:
The principal bond of community life is love, by which our Lord and those
to whom He has entrusted His mission of salvation are loved in a single act.
By this love which contains a real offering of one's self to others, a true brotherhood in the Lord is formed, which constantly finds human expression in personal relationships and mutual regard, service, trust, counsel, edification, and
encouragement of every kind. 7
While legalism, beginning with the concept of authority and defining community life then in relation to this concept, sees commupity primarily in terms of a distinction between the religious
supeiior and other members, theology understands community primarily, not in terms of any distinction among members, but in terms
of the ultimate, mysterious unity of all, which constitutes the very
essence of Christian community and from which must flow the
authentic meaning of all aspects of religious life, including the
distinction between superior and other members.
6 \Vhile this paper was being written, the following appeared in a press
release: "Pope Paul VI has urged Catholic intellectuals to purge the common
idea of God of its oversimilarity to man himself and thus counter a growing
atheism. . . The Pope was speaking Aug. 29 to university graduates. . .
Asking what can counteract atheism, he said 'first of all to plumb and to
purify the concept, often childish and anthropomorphic, that we have made
of God, in order to restore it to its sublime transcendence, to its sovereign
otherness, to its extremely delicate· communicability'" (The Tidings, 9/8/67 ).
This address has special significance for Jesuits, on whom Pope Paul seems
according to his allocution to the General Congregation to rely mainly in
counteracting the growth of atheism. In light of this present address it would
seem that Jesuits have a duty to rethink their operative concept of God. If it
is found to be inadequate, this inadequacy will have affected, obviously, our
idea of how we are to serve him in community life. But Pope Paul is saying
that an inadequate operative notion of God is, moreover, a cause of contemporary atheism.
7 Documents of the 31st General Congregation, Decree 19, No. 5 a.
Similarly, a theological approach is present also in the consensus paper on
community life of the Assistancy Conference: "Christ's prayer for those whom
He loves is that they be one as He and His Father are one. The bond of
this unity is to be their love for one another responding to the love which
·comes to them from the Father through Christ His Son. In the Society of
36
�COMMUNITY
What follows now is an attempt to illustrate some of the differences in consequences to which the two approaches lead.
1) If religious community is conceived primarily as religious
subjects under the authority of a superior, the essence of community is that, while all other members are essentially alike and
together, one member, the superior, is essentially set apart and distinguished from the rest. If this prevails as the operative notion of
what religious community is, it is assumed quite logically that the
superior has privileges not shared by the rest of the community and
one form of behavior is proper for the superior and another form
proper for all other members of the community. For example, it is
logically inferred that the superior should have a special place in
the dining room: this is a proper way for the superior to live in
community, whereas it would be improper for any other member
of the community to live in this way.
When, however, a theological concept of community life is taken
as the starting point for considerations of how community life
should be lived, as was done by the Assistancy Conference, the
logical conclusion concerning the superior's place in the diningroom is the exact opposite: "Let him throw away the napkin ring!" 8
This conclusion could be expanded: let the superior separate himself from all that the napkin ring symbolizes, all that reflects more
the spirit of a by-gone form of secular government than the spirit
of the Gospel.
In addition to the respect and love due to every community
member as a person and a fellow Jesuit something special is, of
course, due to the superior because of his office. It is by no means
evident, however, that that something special is anything else besides obedience, in the lgnatian sense of the word. In fact, the
spirit of the Gospel seems to direct those who hold authority in a
Christian community toward a form of life which is diametrically
opposed to special privilege or external honor in the community.9
2) If religious community is understood as being fundamentally
a group of religious under a religious superior, a religious comJesus this bond of love is the source, strength, and fruit of our community life."
(Consensus Positions and Recommendations, C66.)
8
Consensus Positions and Recommendations, C34.
9
Cf., e.g., Jn. 13:2-17; Mt. 20:20-28; John L. McKenzie, Authority in the
Church, passim.
37
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
cally, the theological approach sees religious community primarily
in terms of mysterious realities which are the gratuitous gifts of
the mystery called God: 6 the gifts of Christian faith and charity.
This approach is demonstrated by the 31st General Congregation,
when it stated:
The principal bond of community life is love, by which our Lord and those
to whom He has entrusted His mission of salvation are loved in a single act.
By this love which contains a real offering of one's self to others, a true brotherhood in the Lord is formed, which constantly finds human expression in personal relationships and mutual regard, service, trust, counsel, edification, and
encouragement of every kind. 7
While legalism, beginning with the concept of authority and defining community life then in relation to this concept, sees com~unity primarily in terms of a distinction between the religious
superior and other members, theology understands community primarily, not in terms of any distinction among members, but in terms
of the ultimate, mysterious unity of all, which constitutes the very
essence of Christian community and from which must flow the
authentic meaning of all aspects of religious life, including the
distinction between superior and other members.
6 \Vhile this paper was being written, the following appeared in a press
release: "Pope Paul VI has urged Catholic intellectuals to purge the common
idea of God of its oversimilarity to man himself and thus counter a growing
atheism. . . The Pope was speaking Aug. 29 to university graduates. . .
Asking what can counteract atheism, he said 'first of all to plumb and to
purify the concept, often childish and anthropomorphic, that we have made
of God, in order to restore it. to its sublime transcendence, to its sovereign
otherness, to its extremely delicate communicability'" (The Tidings, 9/8/67).
This address has special significance for Jesuits, on whom Pope Paul seems
according to his allocution to the General Congregation to rely mainly in
counteracting the growth of atheism. In light of this present address it would
seem that Jesuits have a duty to rethink their operative concept of God. If it
is found to be inadequate, this inadequacy will have affected, obviously, our
idea of how we are to serve him in community life. But Pope Paul is saying
that an inadequate operative notion of God is, moreover, a cause of contemporary atheism.
7 Documents of the 31st General Congregation, Decree 19, No. 5 a.
Similarly, a theological approach is present also in the consensus paper on
community life of the Assistancy Conference: "Christ's prayer for those whom
He loves is that they be one as He and His Father are one. The bond of
this unity is to be their love for one another responding to the love which
comes to them from the Father through Christ His Son. In the Society of
36
�COMMUNITY
What follows now is an attempt to illustrate some of the differences in consequences to which the two approaches lead.
1) If religious community is conceived primarily as religious
subjects under the authority of a superior, the essence of community is that, while all other members are essentially alike and
together, one member, the superior, is essentially set apart and distinguished from the rest. If this prevails as the operative notion of
what religious community is, it is assumed quite logically that the
superior has privileges not shared by the rest of the community and
one form of behavior is proper for the superior and another form
proper for all other members of the community. For example, it is
logically inferred that the superior should have a special place in
the dining room: this is a proper way for the superior to live in
community, whereas it would be improper for any other member
of the community to live in this way.
When, however, a theological concept of community life is taken
as the starting point for considerations of how community life
should be lived, as was done by the Assistancy Conference, the
logical conclusion concerning the superior's place in the diningroom is the exact opposite: "Let him throw away the napkin ring!" 8
This conclusion could be expanded: let the superior separate himself from all that the napkin ring symbolizes, all that reflects more
the spirit of a by-gone form of secular government than the spirit
of the Gospel.
In addition to the respect and love due to every community
member as a person and a fellow Jesuit something special is, of
course, due to the superior because of his office. It is by no means
evident, however, that that something special is anything else besides obedience, in the lgnatian sense of the word. In fact, the
spirit of the Gospel seems to direct those who hold authority in a
Christian community toward a form of life which is diametrically
opposed to special privilege or external honor in the community. 9
2) If religious community is understood as being fundamentally
a group of religious under a religious superior, a religious com-
-
Jesus this bond of love is the source, strength, and fruit of our community life."
( Consemus Positions and Recommendations, C66.)
8
Consensus Positions and Recommendations, C34.
9
Cf., e.g., Jn. 13:2-17; Mt. 20:20-28; John L. McKenzie, Authority in the
Church, passim.
37
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
munity can be seen to be too large only when there are too many
subjects for one superior to govern. In a juridical perspective it is
quite logical that the only relevant consideration in determining
the size of a community is the relation of the subjects to the authority of the superior.
Size of community
In a theological perspective of community life it is immediately
apparent that the question of how many Jesuits can be correctly
governed by one superior is neither the only nor the most important
factor in evaluating the size of a religious community. It is sign£cant in this regard that the question of government is only the
third of three reasons given by the General Congregation for their
con~ern "that the number of scholastics in the houses of formation
be-not too large." 10 Similarly significant is that, of the four reasons
given by the Assistancy Conference for its recommendation "that
serious and diversified experimentation be done in dividing large
communities into small communities or sub-communities," none is
that communities at present arc too large to be governed by one
superiorY
3) If religious community is understood basically as a group of
religious under the authority of a religious superior, then those
things in the life of a religious which arc susceptible of regulation
by the superior's authority receive primary attention in considerations of community life. And what is susceptible of regulation by
authority is completely external; it is not personal interiority. Thus,
community life comes to mean essentially a conformity in external
matters, a uniformity with r~gi:nd to what is used or possessed and
with regard to doing things (common exercises). Community life
is identified with common life, dta communis, which the Epitome,
relying on the Code of Canon Law, defines as follows:
In Societate . . . vita communis ita intellegi debet: l o Quod ad victum,
vestitum et cetera vitae necessaria, retineatur uniformitas tam Sup2riorum cum
inferioribus, quam inferiorum inter se; si quid vero pcculiare ob infirmam
valetudinem aliamve iustam causam alieni necessarium iudicetur, id vitae communi minime repugnat. 1 ~
1°
11
1~
Decree 9, No. 9.
Op. cit., C67f.
Epitome Instituti Societatis Iesu, 497, §2. It is indicative of the progress
38
�COMMUNITY
As soon as external conformity becomes the focal center of community life, two things follow automatically: (a) there develops a
tendency to regard uniformity in a religious community as an e11d
in itself, as a self-validating value; 13 and (b) this absolutizing and
mythologizing of uniformity creates the desire to regulate into
uniformity all that can possibly be so regulated. Rules proliferate,
extending into every nook and cranny of Jesuit life, as those who
hold authority, conceiving their duty toward community life as a
duty to regulate it into maximum uniformity, become preoccupied
with such questions as when American Jesuits may eat butter and
how they may wear their overcoats. 14
Such regulations are, of course, ignored today. But simply ignoring some regulations and pretending that they do not and never
did exist is hardly the most intelligent service which Jesuits can
give to the Church and the world. What is needed is insight into
made by the 31st General Congregation that it presented a decree on "vita
communitaria" (De vita communitaria et de disciplina religiosa). Although
the term "vita communitaria" is understood by the Congregation as designating something fundamental in the Society and very different from what is
termed by the Epitome "vita communis," nevertheless it does not appear in
the latter. The closest approximations there seem to be "unio animorum" and
"unio personarum". Yet, there is still a vast difference between what the
Epitome understands by these last two terms ( 702-729) and what the Congregation is teaching in Decree 19, especially in No. 5. The mentality which
produced an Epitome which considers thematically "vita communis" but not
"vita communitaria" is undeniably different from that of a General Congregation which considers "vita communis" explicitly only within the larger,
theological context of "vita communitaria" (Decree 19, No. 6 d).
13
Legalism regards unity as identical with uniformity, external conformity.
Faith sees unity as "the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace: one body
and one Spirit, even as you were called in one hope of your calling; one
Lord, one faith, one Baptism; one God and Father of all . . . " ( Eph. 4:3ff.)
In the Christian community it is of no essential importance whether there is
external sameness or not: "There is neither Jew nor Greek; there is neither
slave nor freeman; there is neither male nor female. For you are all one in
Christ Jesus." (Gal. 3:28.) It is Christ who radically relativized any oneness
whatsoever which is based on something purely external; the only oneness
which matters absolutely in Christianity is "the unity of the Spirit". All
humanly designed conformity is subject to the "tantum-quantum" rule of
St. Ignatius and, therefore, to change.
14
Cf. Custom Book of the American Assistancy; Memoriale of the last
American Visitation.
39
�WOODSTOCK LEITERS
munity can be seen to be too large only when there arc too many
subjects for one superior to govern. In a juridical perspective it is
quite logical that the only relevant consideration in determining
the size of a community is the relation of the subjects to the authority of the superior.
Size of community
In a theological perspective of community life it is immediately
apparent that the question of how many Jesuits can be correctly
governed by one superior is neither the only nor the most important
factor in evaluating the size of a religious community. It is signficant in this regard that the question of government is only the
third of three reasons given by the General Congregation for their
concern "that the number of scholastics in the houses of formation
-Jjc not too largc." 10 Similarly significant is that, of the four reasons
given by the Assistancy Conference for its recommendation "that
serious and diversified experimentation be done in dividing large
communities into small communities or sub-communities," none is
that communities at present arc too large to be governed by one
superior.H
3) If religious community is understood basically as a group of
religious under the authority of a religious superior, then those
things in the life of a religious which arc susceptible of regulation
by the superior's authority receive primary attention in considerations of community life. And what is susceptible of regulation by
authority is completely external; it is not personal interiority. Thus,
community life comes to inl'an essentially a conformity in external
matters, a uniformity witl1 ·regard to what is used or possessed and
with regard to doing things (common exercises). Community life
is identified with common life, dta communis, which the Epitome,
relying on the Code of Canon Law, defines as follows:
In Societate . . . vita communis ita intellegi debet: 1 o Quod ad victum,
vestitum et cetera vitae necessaria, retineatur uniformitas tam Sup2riorum cum
inferioribus, quam inferiorum inter se; si quid vera peculiare ob infirmam
valetudinem aliamve iustam causam alieni necessarium iudicetur, id vitae communi minime repugnat.l~
1o
11
1~
Decree 9, No. 9.
Op. cit., C67f.
Epitome Instituti Societatis Iesu, 497, §2. It is indicative of the progress
38
�COMMUNITY
As soon as external conformity becomes the focal center of community life, two things follow automatically: (a) there develops a
tendency to regard uniformity in a religious community as an e11d
in itself, as a self-validating value; 13 and (b) this absolutizing and
mythologizing of uniformity creates the desire to regulate into
uniformity all that can possibly be so regulated. Rules proliferate,
extending into every nook and cranny of Jesuit life, as those who
hold authority, conceiving their duty toward community life as a
duty to regulate it into maximum uniformity, become preoccupied
with such questions as when American Jesuits may eat butter and
how they may wear their overcoats. 14
Such regulations are, of course, ignored today. But simply ignoring some regulations and pretending that they do not and never
did exist is hardly the most intelligent service which Jesuits can
give to the Church and the world. What is needed is insight into
made by the 31st General Congregation that it presented a decree on "vita
communitaria" (De vita communitaria et de disciplina religiosa). Although
the term "vita communitaria" is understood by the Congregation as designating something fundamental in the Society and very different from what is
termed by the Epitome "vita communis," nevertheless it does not appear in
the latter. The closest approximations there seem to be "unio animorum" and
"unio personarum". Yet, there is still a vast difference between what the
Epitome understands by these last two terms ( 702-729) and what the Congregation is teaching in Decree 19, especially in No. 5. The mentality which
produced an Epitome which considers thematically "vita communis" but not
"vita communitaria" is undeniably different from that of a General Congregation which considers "vita communis" explicitly only within the larger,
theological context of "vita communitaria" (Decree 19, No. 6 d).
13
Legalism regards unity as identical with uniformity, external conformity.
Faith sees unity as "the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace: one body
and one Spirit, even as you were called in one hope of your calling; one
Lord, one faith, one Baptism; one God and Father of all . . ." (Eph. 4:3£f.)
In the Christian community it is of no essential importance whether there is
external sameness or not: "There is neither Jew nor Greek; there is neither
slave nor freeman; there is neither male nor female. For you are all one in
Christ Jesus." (Gal. 3:28.) It is Christ who radically relativized any oneness
whatsoever which is based on something purely external; the only oneness
which matters absolutely in Christianity is "the unity of the Spirit". All
humanly designed conformity is subject to the "tantum-quantum" rule of
St. Ignatius and, therefore, to change.
14
Cf. Custom Book of the American Assistancy; Memoriale of the last
American Visitation.
39
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
the premises from which these regulations are derived as practical
conclusions. If the conclusions seem not only ludicrous but also
unchristian, inasmuch as they appear completely alien to the Pauline
notion of the freedom which the Christian has in Christ and seem
to be concerns diametrically opposed to those of the New Testament, it is because the premises, the starting points, are in aberration from genuine theological understanding of the Church and
religious communities. The problem of such regulations is only a
derivative problem; it will not be solved definitively until the root
problem is solved. 15
4) If religious community is understood primarily as a group of
religious under the authority of a superior, communities will have
a b_uilt-in tendency to split into two classes, which rarely associate
easily with one another: administrators and non-administrators,
those who hold some office and those who do not. If community is
understood from the start in terms of a difference (community is
where one religious has authority and the others are subject to it)
instead of in terms of a fundamental unity, authority can readily
become in practice something that divides certain members off
from the other members of the community.
\Vhen communities tend to divide into these two general groups,
across whose boundaries "personal relationships and mutual regard,
service, trust, counsel, edification, and encouragement of every
1 5 \Vithin a perspective which regards community life primarily as a group
of religious under a superior and consequently tends to identify community
life with common life, it is quite logical that all rectors and ministers of
scholastics who teach in high schools meet together, after the General Congregation proposed "liberal use of the principle of subsidiarity" (Decree 17,
No. 7), to establish common regulations for all the scholastics. On the other
hand, within a perspective which regards community life primarily as it is
seen in Decree 19 it is equally logical to present to the California Province
Conference, as the regents have done, the following recommendations:
"That the Rector, with his community, should be able to determine the
domestic policies which meet that community's individual needs. Community
needs are most often individual, therefore complete uniformity between [sic]
communities seems neither important, possible, nor even desirable. Each community is or should be unique ...
"That hoPse regulations be drawn up by and for the community as a whole
anrl thot thmo things which tend to constitute the scholastics as a separate
community-within-the-community be abolished. . ." (Recommendations of the
California Regents offered for the forthcoming Province Conference, 4f.)
40
�COMMUNITY
kind" 16 flow less readily and easily than within the boundaries of
either group, something has gone radically wrong with the function
of authority in the religious community. The purpose of such authority is unity, not division. But as long as a juridical concept of
religious community is operative, authority must necessarily be
more divisive than unitive in the work of creating genuine Christian
communityY
5) If religious community is understood primarily as a group of
religious under a superior, this leads to thinking in categories of
"superiors" and "inferiors" or "subjects," there is a natural tendency
built into the community toward failure with regard to the comDecree 19, No.5 a.
An excessively juridical conception of community life can be seen in the
Epitome, for example, in the text on "vita communis" already cited: "Quod
ad victum, vestitum et certera vitae necessaria, retineatur uniformitas tam
Superiorum cum inferioribus, quam inferiorum inter se. . . ." The uniformity
to be maintained is one "of superiors with inferiors and of inferiors among
themselves." A much more obvious, facile and direct way to speak of this
uniformity is to refer simply to a uniformity among all members-much more
obvious, that is, unless one understands community primarily as a group of
religious subjects under a superior.
Also noteworthy, apropos of this not untypical passage, is an evident and
immediate danger which exists when community is conceived primarily in
terms of a difference between two classes. \Vithout further ado the two classes
can be designated as "superiores" and "inferiores", despite the fact that this
terminology implies that the distinction between those who have authority in
the Society and those who do not is a distinction, at least, between first-class
and second-class members. (Is it also significant that the word "Superiorum"
is capitalized in the text, and "inferioribus" is not?) Fortunately, the term
"inferiores" is dead (a logical tendency to kill the correlative term "superiores"
and to replace it with "officers" can be noticed in contemporary writings).
Similarly, the term "subditi," "subjects," derived apparently from long-gone
political orders rather than from the New Testament, is on the wane, as is
evidenced, for example, by the decrees of the General Congregation. Whereas
a legalistic conception of community expresses itself in the language of the
Epitome, a theological view of community spontaneously finds a new language.
( Cf., e.g., Decree 17, Nos. 3, 6, 7, 8: "fratres sui", "sodales".)
The Assistancy Conference considered "community" a subject important
enough to merit a consensus paper ( op. cit., C66ff.). Significantly, the paper
not only does not use the words "superior" or "subject"; it is totally concerned
about matters which have nothing to do with the distinction between those
who have authority and those who do not. It would not be easy to find another
official document on community which has achieved this feat!
lG
17
41
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
munication proper to a religious community. It is much more
natural for a "superior" to feel that he should simply tell "inferiors"
or "subjects" what they should do than to feel that he should consult them, perhaps learning with them or even from them what
should be done. And it is much more natural that a "superior" feel
that he alone needs to know the most important plans and other
matters than that he feel that such things are of concern to "inferiors" and should be communicated to "subjects." Dialogue, "fraternal gatherings" to "promote a common seeking of God's will"
(such as the California Province Conference), are seen as an essential aspect18 of community life only after a theological perspective
of community life has replaced a juridical perspective, as occurred
at the General Congregation.
6) ~When religious community is understood primarily as a group
of religious under a superior, religious communities can be totally
insensitive toward certain expressions of uncharity which violate
the very heart of Christian community. If community is understood
from the start as divided into two ranks, superior and subjects, division into various classes within the community will appear to be a
natural thing. It will be taken for granted that brothers, scholastics
and fathers as three ranks of a hierarchy are assigned the worst,
the second best and the best places, respectively, in the dining-room, in recreational facilities and in the chapel. Even the public
reading of scriptural passages such as Jn. 13:1-17 in dining-room
and chapel did not awaken a sense of incongruity between what was
being heard and what was being lived. In like manner, the impersonal and, therefore, uncharitable relations necessitated by fidelity to the rule of grades never seemed to be anything other than a
means to religious perfection. It is, then, indicative of progress
both in theology and, more importantly, in Christian living when
the General Congregation states: "Priests, brothers, and scholastics
should all associate with one another easily, in sincerity, evangelical
simplicity, and courtesy, as is appropriate for a real family gathered
together in the name of the Lord." 19
18 Decree 8, No. 5. "Fraternal gatherings" is enumerated with "the account
of conscience to superiors" and "conversation with the spiritual father."
19 Decree 19, No. 7 c., emphasis added. Cf. also the recommendations of
the Assistancy Conference:
"Our communities should be true homes in which all members, priests,
{2
�COMMUNITY
7) If community life is conceived juridically as a number of
religious under the authority of a superior, the criteria used in
evaluating the aptness of candidates for the Society, for vows, for
the priesthood and for offices of authority are inevitably affected
for the worse.
It is self-evident, of course, that for one whose conception of
community is primarily juridical and not theological, the criteria
by which he judges the aptness for Jesuit community life of an
individual will be primarily juridical rather than theological. Concretely, this will mean that, since Jesuit community is a number of
Jesuits under a superior, the fulfillment of this relations of Jesuits
to a superior, i.e. obedience, will be the primary requisite for life
in a Jesuit community. Logically, then, the novice who always does
what he is told will be considered the ideal novice, provided that
no great defects in other areas exist. Thus there is a tendency to
see all other criteria, including charity? 0 as not only subordinate to
obedience, but also as fundamentally negative criteria. And, of
course, how the ideal novice is conceived will determine the way
in which the living of novitiate life is structured.
scholastics, and brothers feel equally at home...
"Grades and divisions of any kind leading to social distinction or double
standards in whatever area must not be tolerated" ( op. cit., C68).
00
When obedience is understood as the primary virtue of community life,
charity will be viewed, unconsciously, as subordinate to obedience: there will
be a tendency to think of charity as a means for the maintaining of the order
of community life which authority imposes. The theological virtue of charity,
when subordinated to the moral virtue of obedience, has to be reduced to a
moral virtue, e.g., courtesy or gentlemanliness, as in the following:
"The order of the day . . . is to be faithfully observed particularly in
houses of training, having regard for: the interior spirihml life which is to be
fostered even by external helps; charity, or responsibility for those conditions
( caritatem, seu responsibilitatem erga eas condiciones) of silence, recollection,
etc., which aid the work, quiet, and prayer of others ... " (Decree 19, No. 8 f.
Fortunately, this is a section of only secondary importance, "More Concrete
Applications," and a different viewpoint predominates in the immediately
preceding sections where the fundamental principles of community life are
proposed.) It should be noted in this passage how charity is understood not
only as a moral virtue subordinate to obedience but also negatively. Charity
is courteously not disturbing others from fulfilling obediently the order of
the day.
43
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
Novitiate
Just as a juridical conception of community life can render religious insensitive to essential violations of authentic Christian community, as indicated earlier, so the same conception can lead to a
form of novitiate life which actually discourages authentic Christian
community. Instead of fostering growth in the love and "true
brotherhood in the Lord, which constantly finds human expression
in personal relationships,"21 the novitiate can directly impede the
birth and growth of authentic personal relationships and directly
promote unauthentic, artificial relations. For example, a formal way
of addressing each other, creating artificiality and aloofness among
theminstead of the familiarity out of which grow authentic personal
rela!ionships and genuine love, has been the rule among novices.
As '1ong as genuine personal relationships are positively discouraged among novices, there can be no way by which the capacity of
a novice to form deep, authentic, mature personal relationships
with the other members of his religious community is regarded as
a criterion for evaluating his vocation. Evidently a juridical conception of community life leads to creating a kind of novitiate in which
something understood by the General Congregation as pertaining
to the very essence of the Jesuit vocation can be neither adequately
tested nor evaluated before the novice is allowed to become a
member of the Society.22
The germ of a significant reform in this regard is indicated in
the extensive concern of the General Congregation with the question of affective maturity,2 3 . a concern which appears obviously
Decree 19, No. 5 a.
Since Christian charity, understood correctly as a theological and not a
moral virtue, as well as psychological problems, inasmuch as they involve an
inability to relate genuinely to other people, both have something to do with
a person's capacity for deep personal relationships, it is understandable that,
if novices are not allowed to develop authentic personal relationships and their
vocation is not evaluated precisely with regard to their capacity to form such
relationships with fellow-novices and Jesuits, it can easily happen that, very
shortly after he has made his vows and is placed in circumstances different
from those of the novitiate, a Jesuit will manifest long-standing but previously
undetected serious psychological problems.
23 Decree 8, Nos. 6, 7, 13, 17, 18, 22-26, 36, 39; Decree 9, Nos. 5-9;
. Decree 19, Nos. 8 c, 11, 12. Cf. also the paper of the Assistancy Conference
on "Psychological Development" ( op. cit., C29ff.).
21
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�COMMUNITY
fundamental within a genuinely theological perspective of religious
community.
8) If religious community is conceived fundamentally as a number of religious under the authority of a superior, and if, as sho\~n
already, this leads to thinking of the obedience of religious to the
authority of their superior as the fundamental virtue and activity
of a religious community, then "doing the will of God" must
eventually come to be understood as synonymous with doing the
will of the religious superior (and discovering the will of God will
become identified with discovering what the superior wants). In
such a context of initiative on the part of the religious must be
understood as something, at best, superfluous and, at worst, suspect
and to be discouraged. And if initiative on the part of religious is
not positively encouraged, it is hardly possible that talents of leadership will be developed.
Progress was made in the area by the General Congregation
when it explicitly recognized that finding out the will of God is
not synonymous with discovering the will of the superior, but a
much broader reality, and then consequently affirmed explicitly
the need to cultivate initiative. In the words of the Congregation,
the "divine will is concretely revealed to us especially by the inner
promptings of grace and the direction of superiors, as well as by
the example of our brothers, the demands of our apostolic work,
common life, and rules and contingencies of our own life and the
spiritual needs of our time. This objective is unattainable apart
from the constant cultivation of a spirit of initiative and responsibility within obedience. . . .''2 4 When doing the will of God is
equated simply with obedience to religious authority, obedience is
absolutized and mythologized and the very essence of Christian
life is misunderstood. Obedience becomes an end in itself because
for the religious doing the will of God is an end in itself. Wlwt the
superior commands, provided it is not sinful, becomes more or less
irrelevant; and it seems that obeying a command to plant cabbages
upside-down is doing the will of God in just the same way as obeying a command to plant cabbages right-side-up.
24
Decree 8, No. 7. There might be recalled in this context the emphasis
placed by St. Ignatius, at the very beginning of his Constitutions, on "interna
caritatis et amoris illius lex quam Sanctus Spiritus scribere et in cordibus
irnprimere solet" in relation to "ullae extemae Constitutiones."
45
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
Since to obey the will of the superior for the love of God is exactly
synonymous with doing the will of God for the love of God, a
religious need not concem himself about whether he is ordered to
water a dry stick or the garden-patch. \Vhat happens in the world,
what gets done or what does not get done, becomes a matter of
indifference to the religious, since only the superior has any po~i
tive responsibility for this, while all other religious have only the
negative responsibility of not obeying when sin is commanded. The
wwm necessarium for the religious is to obey without sinning.
Religious authority becomes a self-validating reality: whatever
the superior commands (sin excepted) is automatically the will of
God simply because the superior has religious authority, i.e. power
from God, and that is all there is to it. Thus, religious authority is
conceived mythically as a magic power: the superior has some
esoteric, inexplicable capacity for determining what the mysterious,
unpredictable will of God is ( conceming, for example, how the
cabbages are to go into the ground today), and this capacity is
designated gnostically as "the grace of state." 2 ;;
7
\ \ hen, on the other hand, obedience is understood within a
theological context of religious community, there is no tendency to
absolutize and mythologize it. Religious obedience is vowed not
because it magically turns anything it touches into the will of God,
-but because it is seen as a practical means toward an absolute end,
the will of God, which is not just anything at all, but something
very definite which God himself has publicly revealed to his
25 Since the concept of the 'grace. of state' seems to derive more from magic
and gnosticism than from fact and theology, it is understandable that this
concept, inasmuch as it implies anything different from or more than what is
understood by a theology of actual graces offered to all men and of charisms
breathed where the Spirit wills, not only leaves unexplained but also renders
unintelligible certain obvious facts, e.g.: (a) that since the days of Peter, Paul
and Judas religious authority has sometimes been exercised well and sometimes poorly, has sometimes succeeded and sometimes failed utterly; (b) that
it has not infrequently happened in the history of the Church that someone
holding a position of authority has had to be removed from office, not necessarily because of sins, but simply because of incompetence in the exercise of
his office; and (c) that, before anyone is appointed to an office of religious
authority, there is ordinarily extensive investigation made precisely to ascertain
that the individual under consideration does indeed already possess the qualities
requisite for the competent fulfillment of the office.
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�COMMUNITY
people. The General Congregation affirms the relative character of
obedience as a means in relation to an end, an absolute, the will
of God publicly revealed by himself, in these words: "... Through
the vow of obedience our Society becomes a more fit instrument of
Christ in his Church, unto the assistance of souls for God's greater
glory."26 The work cut out for Christ in his Church and revealed
publicly by God as the work lze wants carried out in this world
is called by the Congregation "the assistance of souls," 27 and obedience is understood as a reasonable, not magical, way to accomplish
this work And it is precisely because obedience was seen in this
way that it was introduced by Ignatius and his first companions
into the Society in the first place. 28
If, then, doing the will of God is understood, not legalistically as
identical with obeying religious authority, but theologically in a
context of faith as using intelligent means and taking reasonable
steps to accomplish the work that God himself in Christ has assigned to his People, then (a) "the direction of superiors" is clearly
seen as only one of many ways to discover what the will of God is
"concretely"; 29 (b) the need for "fraternal gatherings" to "promote
a common seeking of God's will" becomes apparent; 30 and (c) it
becomes also evident that, "since all who work together in God's
service are under the influence of the Holy Spirit and his grace,
it will be well in the Lord to usc their ideas and advice so as to
understand God's will better," and that, consequently, "Superiors
in the Society should readily and often ask for and listen to the
counsel of their brethren .... "31
26
Decree 17, No. 2.
The term "the assistance of souls" ( auxilium animarum), derived more
from scholastic philosophy than from the New Testament, is unfortunate.
Repeatedly Vatican II clarified what the mission of Christ in His Church is,
speaking of it always in ways which directly reflect the message of the New
Testament and not the filters of philosophy. Cf., e.g., Dogmatic Constitution
on the Church, Nos. 24, 45, 93; Decree on the Apostolatc of the Laity, No. 2.
28
Cf. Decree 19, No. 1.
29
Decree 8, No. 7.
30
Decree 8, No. 5.
31
Decree 17, No. 6. Such conclusions of the General Congregation concerning how the will of God can be found represent the logical result of a
demythologizing of obedience, which a decade ago Karl Rahner recognized
as a need:
"
Obedience in religious life is not the obedience of children. There27
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
Limits to obedience
When religious obedience has been absolutized by the legalistic
mentality, it is natural that obedience then is expected to be found
everywhere, even in areas where it cannot possibly exist. If, however, obedience is not absolutized, it is self-evident that there are
limits to religious obedience and that the fundamental limitations
is that it can exist only vis-a-vis religious authority. Religious obedience can exist only as a response to the exercising of an office of
religious authority, and such authority exists only in religious
communities.
The Assistancy Conference has called attention to the fact that
"it is characteristically Jesuit to be simultaneously a member of a
number of communities. Our vocation is to serve, foster, and even
create communities which interlock with the Jesuit community
through our presence."32 Since the Society does not exist for itself
fore, the religious superior should not play the role of an Olympian papa . . .
The superior should not try to give the impression that he stands under the
immediate inspiration of the Holy Ghost, but should be courageous enough
to seek approval for his commands by giving reasons for them. It is incomprehensible how such an approach to mature and much-loved brothers and
sisters in the Lord should be a threat to the authority of the superior, who,
according to the command of Christ, should see in the authority of his ofRce
only the greater obligation to serve. . . . It is not true, even in religious com- munities, that all initiative should take its rise from superiors. . . One frequently gets the impression, both in religious orders and in the Church in
general, that initiative, action, militancy (Initiative, Einsatz, Offensive), and
the like, are indeed considered necessary and desirable in subjects, but only
on condition that the go-signal be given 'from above', and only in the direction
which has already been unequivocally and authoritatively determined by
superiors. . ." ("A Basic lgnatian Concept. Some Reflections on Obedience"
in: WOODSTOCK LETTERS, 86 ( 1957 ) , 293ff.
If, however, improvements in theology and operative religious notions can
only through education (and for some this will mean re-education) come into
existence, it is understandable that ten years after the article just cited was
published in English translation the Assistancy Conference feels that still
"urgently needed is an up-dated theology of authority and obedience in response to the workings of the Spirit among the people of God today, a
theology of special relevance to the place of the members of the Jesuit community and of participative decision-making in seeking and finding the will
of God in the policies and choices of the Society and their implementation by
individual superiors" ( op. cit., C39) .
• 32 Op. cit., C67.
48
�COMMUNITY
but in order to further the mission of the Church, the Society exists,
obviously, to serve others besides its own members. Involvement,
membership, beyond the Jesuit religious community in other, nonJesuit communities, formally organized or informal, is therefore
essential to the fulfillment of the Jesuit vocation.
Since its origin the Society has regarded schools, educational
communities, as communities pre-eminently suited for furthering
the mission of the Church through the involvement of Jesuits.
Historical circumstances (always subject to change) directed Jesuits
to take alone (rather than with other religious, diocesan priests
and/ or laymen) the initiative to bring into existence new educational communities (rather than participate in such communities
already existing). This initiative entailed on the part of Jesuits
financial expendih1res for the necessary physical facilities of the
educational community, the making available of themselves for all
teaching and administrative offices of the community, and the inviting and accepting of boys or young men to complete as students
the membership and constituting of educational communities. Thus,
a way was found by which many Jesuits would fulfill their vocation
of furthering the mission of the Church by involvement in communities outside the Jesuit community, i.e. in the non-Jesuit communities commonly designated as "Jesuit schools."
A Jesuit school is not a Jesuit community. A Jesuit community is
a community of religious of the Society of Jesus, and its common
purpose is the living of Jesuit religious life. A non-Jesuit community
is any other community in the world, and its common purpose can
be anything else besides the living of Jesuit religious life. It is the
latter category which includes "Jesuit schools."33
33
With regard to non-Jesuit communities, which Jesuits in fulfilling their
vocation join: (a) they may or may not have Jesuits (one, some, even many)
as members; (b) they may or may not have been created by the initiative
and financial expenditures of only Jesuits; (c) they may or may not have
Jesuits as (one of, some of, many of, all) their officers; (d) they may or
may not have as major officers men who are Jesuits holding also major offices
in their religious communities; (e) they may or may not have names associated with the Society of Jesus (e.g. Jesuit High School); (f) they may or
may not use in the pursuit of their purposes property and facilities on which
the home of a Jesuit community is also located; (g) they may or may not
use property and facilities owned legally exclusively by the Society of Jesus;
and (h) they may or may not have legal arrangements by which Jesuit
49
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
Authority exists for community; community does not exist for
authority. Authority is a function of community, and the kind of
community specifies the kind of authority. Religious authority can
exist only in a religious community, and other authority can exist
only in another community. Since Jesuit schools are not Jesuit religious communities, authority in these schools is not Jesuit religious
authority. And since religious obedience can exist only as a response
to religious authority, no Jesuit should attempt to see obedience to
authority in Jesuit schools as Jesuit religious obedience. It is just
as much and just as little Jesuit obedience as is obedience to the
civil authority of the civic community in which the Jesuit school
is located. This does not mean that Jesuits in Jesuit schools should
be rebels; it means simply that they should know what they are
doing.
Religious obedience, however, is involved indirectly in both
obedience to authority in a Jesuit school and obedience to civil
authority in the civic community. When a religious superior assigns
a Jesuit as his apostolate a position outside the Jesuit religious
community, and in a non-Jesuit, educational community, he is ipso
facto assigning the Jesuit to fulfill all the duties which having that
position in the non-Jesuit, educational community (and also in the
wider civic community) will entail. The superior is ipso facto assigning with religious authority a Jesuit to fulfill all duties of membership in non-Jesuit communities, because it would be immoral to
neglect some duties (moral or Christian obligations) of membership in non-Jesuit communities. Some of these duties can be foreseen by the superior; he knows, for instance, in assigning a Jesuit
to teach in a school, that the Jesuit has the duty to teach.
superiors can by religious authority assign Jesuits directly into these communities. \Vhatever the case may be in all these matters, non-Jesuit communities remain non-Jesuit communities. This fact is, of course, becoming increasingly recognized. And this for many reasons. But one worth being stated in the
present context is the fact that, since some Jesuit communities have already
been, or are now considering the possibility of being, incorporated as legal
entities distinct from the legal entities of the educational communities in which
most of their members are involved, it is obviously becoming impossible for
even a person who understands community in a legalistic way to ignore the distinction between the Jesuit religious community and the non-Jesuit educational
community and to regard in practice the latter as either identical with or an
·extension of the former.
50
�COMMUNITY
Some of the duties no one can foresee because they depend on
circumstances; no one knows when a Jesuit is assigned as a teacher
in a school whether or not he will have the duty of putting a
tourniquet on a student's arm, because this depends on what circumstances arise. Teaching class at the time assigned by the principal of a high school is neither more nor less religious obedience
than putting a tourniquet on a student's arm when need arises.
Both are indirectly religious obedience inasmuch as they are the
fulfillment of duties incumbent on a Jesuit by his membership
and/or position in the non-Jesuit, educational community to which
religious authority has assigned him. Only when legalistic thinking
absolutizes authority does "duty" appear to be a synonym for
"obeying the orders of authority." VVhen authority is seen, on the
other hand, as existing for community, then community, not authority, can be understood clearly as the primary source of duty:
duties are duties toward those with whom one lives, and authority
exists to further the fulfillment of these duties. All duties toward
authority are therefore derivative from duties toward communities.
Therefore, if a Jesuit is assigned as a teacher into an educational
community, whose raison d' ctre is, obviously, the education of its
student members, his primary duty within the community is toward
the education of students, not toward those who hold gubernatorial
or administrative offices in the community. It is only because of his
duty in the community toward the education of students that this
Jesuit has any duty at all toward those who hold these offices,
which exist only to make possible and to facilitate the education
of students. If, therefore, there should ever arise a conflict of duties
in this community, primary duties, here as everywhere else, take
precedence over secondary duties. To decide otherwise would be
immoral. In such a conflict, acting in accord with primary duty
would be precisely the fulfillment in that situation of the apostolate
which the Jesuit has accepted in religious obedience to his religious
superior.
Justice
Membership in a community involves a fundamental duty and
responsibility toward all tl1e community. This means, at least, a
real concern that justice prevail in all intra-community relations.
Should an injustice occur toward any member, and should that
51
�""'PHpPJ"
WOODSTOCK LETTERS
injustice originate with some who hold offices in the community,
as happened recently at Catholic University, it is then a fundamental duty of all other members to see that justice is restored.
It changes nothing in regard to this fundamental duty of membership in the community that most of the trustees in \Vashington,
D.C., responsible for the injustice are also archbishops in various
archdioceses throughout the nation. Moreover, since some of the
faculty members who acted to restore justice in the community are
secular priests, it is conceivable that a trustee who collaborated in
the injustice is also the archbishop who with religious authority
originally assigned one of the priests who resisted the injustice to
Catholic University for his apostolate. This priest's protest against
the injustice of the trustees would be, in this case, precisely the
fulS.llment of his duty derived from his religious obedience to his
archbishop, whether the archbishop eventually realizes this or not.
Mutatis mutandis, what has been said applies also to the notorious
case of St. John's University.
It is, of course, very unfortunate that members of a religious
order who have authodty at St. John's University should be slower
than others to recognize injustice and the misuse of authority. It is
more unfortunate when this is the case with men who are archbishops in the Church. There is indeed some crisis of authority in
the Church when religious who hold offices of authority and archbishops must be forced by others to reverse the injustice which
their misuse of authority creates._ Authority by its very ·nature
should serve justice; something has gone radically wrong with the
understanding of authority when it can proceed so easily into injustice without even recognizing where it is going. The crisis of
authority is that a legalistic conception of authority inevitably creates injustice and insensitivity to the injustice created, while contemporary man becomes more and more concerned about both
justice and charity. If authority is being undermined in the Church
today, the evidence seems to show that it is being undermined
through the public scandal given to the world by those who exercise authority as if it were absolute.
It matters both within our Jesuit communities and within the
other communities into which our apostolate takes us whether our
. notion of religious community is legalistic or theological.
52
�THE JESUIT COMMUNITY
AS A COMMUNITY OF SERVICE
FELIX
F.
CARDEGNA,
S.J.
a rector's view
IT IS wrm A CERTAIN DEGREE of frustration that I launch into a discussion of the relationship between community and apostolate in
the Society of Jesus. One has the feeling that we have said all that
there is to say about the thing. It was one of the fundamental issues
underlying the decrees of the 31st General Congregation. The
fathers of the Congregation were divided on a number of key issues,
and I think this was one of them. From the viewpoint of my particular bias, the good guys in this case were those who opted for
the primacy of apostolate over community. Actually, I think this
is the view which prevailed in the Congregation. If there is one
word which characterizes the 31st General Congregation and its
decrees, it is the word "apostolic". Not only are the largest number
of chapters concerned with the apostolate, but most of the other
chapters, e.g. the chapters on prayer and each of the vows, as well
as the one on community life itself, are permeated with an apostolic
orientation. It seems to me that there were two basic mentalities
among the fathers of the Congregation with respect to this question.
There were those who felt that the Society must seriously and
urgently examine its apostolates, with a view to dropping some,
revitalizing others, and entering upon new ones; and that community life within very broad limits is to be tailored to these new and
renewed apostolates. These men would in general be more open to
53
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
change in community patterns and style of life, principally in order
to further apostolic effectiveness, but not exclusively for this reason.
The other mentality opted for a closer adherence to the concrete
patterns of community life with its regimen of prayer, Mass, other
spiritual duties, community exercises and practices, such as they
have experienced in their lifetime as Jesuits and which have been
spelled out in laws, rules or customs. To these men, this style of
community life is a very large factor in what makes a man into a
Jesuit, gives him the Jesuit style, passes on to him the Jesuit spirit.
One cannot break up this pattern too drastically without threatening the unity of the Society and Jesuit community. Apostolates
which are radically at odds with such a style of life,-if there are
any_:_would in effect be beyond the scope of the Society.
I-have already said that I favor the first view, which places
apostolate in the place of preeminence. However, I should point
out immediately that I do not think that by doing this I am reducing community to a means. For, as I see it, the comparison here is
not between the values of apostolate and community as such, but
between apostolate and a concrete set of details which define a
particular pattern and style of community life,-one form of community life. Outside of some very general factors, I think it is an
illusion to look for one style of community life which can be called
- Jesuit; just as I think it is an illusion to look for a Jesuit religious
discipline beyond obedience and the manifestation of conscience.
This is one of the unique things about us. We do not go in for
minutiae. \Ve are, or should be, free, flexible, and large-minded.
And I think there is a de facto proof of this absence of one particularized form of community life. Just look at the differences in daily
living in a university or college community, a retreat house, a high
school community, a parish, a house of writers, a philosophate, a
mission station out in the bush, a labor school, a theologate, a
novitiate,-not to mention that archetype of them all-the provincialate.
I once heard an older father complaining about the style of life
in a provincialate. He thought it was such a rigid, artificial, constricting, isolated kind of living. He once asked why they live that
way. He was told that it was because the provincialate had to give
~:~d example. To which he replied, "To whom are we giving good
54
�COMMUNITY
example,-the novices? It seems to me that the only other place
in the province that lives like this is the novitiate, and now not
eyen the novices live this way." The provincialate, like every other
house, should have a style of its own. There is a tremendous variety
de facto in the various houses of any province. Extend this to the
entire Society all over the world in so many different countries and
cultures,-and I doubt that we need to be concerned about the
breakdown of unity or community due to diversity, very great
diversity, in the concrete style of community living. We have been
living in this diversity for centuries-and thank God for it. In fact,
I doubt that we have de facto ever lived any other way.
To sum up, in the option between apostolate and a somewhat
detailed description of a particular style of community life, I think
the preeminence has to be given to apostolate. I suspect that this
was the general framework in which the question was posed among
the fathers of the 31st General Congregation and, by and large,
the good guys won out.
Santa Clara
Then I went to Santa Clara and after about six or seven
days of dialogue, one day we got launched into a full-fledged
discussion of the relationship between community and apostolate.
One of the scholastic delegates sparked the discussion by saying
something to this effect: "The Ignatian notion of community put
the main emphasis on the group of men gathered together to perform a work. In the Society today, in the Church, there is a notion
of community which we could briefly say is this: A community is
a group of men who love one another deeply and whose actions
spring from this love. The two views could possibly be reconciled,
but again there is the question of emphasis, which is very important. The first view seems to distort the Gospel notion of community so as to use it as a means to an end, and the second view
would say, community is the important thing; our job is to build
community in all forms" (Vol. 3, No.2, pp. 172-3).
This statement evoked a reaction, almost a cry of pain, from one
of the weightier members of the conference, who had slugged his
way through two sessions of the 31st General Congregation as one
of the good guys described above. He said that they had shed
blood, sweat and tears to establish the apostolic dimension as
55
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
more important than the monastic orientation of community for its
own sake. He said he thought this was the progressive, the young
mentality; and now he finds that the scholastics, the young men,
want community first. He sounded as though he had been stabbed
in the back. And then the succeeding discussion struggled hard to
break out of a structuring of the argument which characterized
the emphasis on community as monastic and the emphasis on
apostolate as the General Motors approach, with the implicit demand that one choose between them.
A lot of good things were said in this discussion, and they can
be found in Vol. 3, [Pt. 2], pp. 178-199. Here I think the relationship between community and apostolate was posed in different
terms than above. Some of the points made \verc the following:
f:· In the genesis of the Society, the original group of Jesuits
started with an apostolic commitment which grew out of making
the Spiritual Exercises. Then they decided to join a group to achieve
their apostolic goals, rather than to pursue these goals as individuals. Then they decided on the structure of authority in the community they formed. So, there seems to have been a certain priority
of apostolate over community, at least temporarily.
2. The concept of community was to St. Ignatius a joining together of companions in Christ. vVe come together with Christ in
this particular community, and with one another. Then the community itself extends Christ in a particular way.
3. The concept of community in terms of the Church is really a
relationship among persons and Christ. Being with Christ is sharing
in his presence in the world. \Ve speak of various modes of the
manifestation of Christ in the world. From the New Testament
point of view, a good case can be made for saying that the one
thing which unifies these modes is that Christ is present in the
community. One could go even further and say that the Christian
community is the presence of Christ. Christ's presence in the world
is Christian community as a dynamic concept that broadens itself
constantly from the cell unit, whatever that may be, to a wider and
wider dimension.
4. This brings us to an attractive possibility for the resolution of
th~ tc!lsi::-n lxtween community and apostolate. Our mission, our
·only genuine apostolic purpose, is the fulfillment of Christ's mission.
s6
�COMMUNITY
Christ's mission is summed up in His priestly prayer for community
at the Last Supper. "Let them all be one. Just as you, Father, are
in union with me and I am with you, let them be in union with us,
so that the world may believe that you sent me. I have given them
the glory that you gave me, so that they may be perfectly unified
and the world may recognize that you sent me and you love them
just as you love me" (John 17, 21-23). The Christian mission is to
create community in the human family as the People of God. To
create community among men on all levels in my apostolate as a
Christian.
This awareness of the apostolate of the Church being to create
community has been restored to a kind of central position of eminence in recent years in the light of the Council and the thought
connected with it. We have moved away from most of the institutionalized understanding of the Church and its apostolate to a more
personalistic approach. Person exists only in community. If you
look at it this way, the most important and basic apostolic task is
the intensification of the life of the community itself which intends
to be apostolic; and a most important Christian witness is to one
another within this community; and only in terms of this deepening
is a community capable of really bearing more effectively and more
profoundly the presence of Christ to the world.
5. One of the things which a person achieves in community life in
the Society, if it is authentic community life, is the ability to create
other communities. He takes on not only the desire to create other
communities, but in the process of living in community, he takes
on those qualities which will enhance his ability to form other
communities and he rubs off the sharp edges which will diminish
this ability. The community really creates the power of creating
other communities. You have a series of interlocking circles, all of
which are united in a way in this Jesuit community in which we
participate.
Participation
It is only by participation in
can actualize the virtualities
community, so that what has
of the individual Christian is
of Christians or Jesuits. This
many different communities that you
you have. The person develops in
often been given as the description
now being applied to this grouping
grouping of Christians manifests to
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the world in some way all the qualities such as openness and welcome and love which we claim to be characteristic of the Christian:
that we help one another, and enable one another to do more than
we would be able to do if we were isolated. The Christian wants
to do things together because it is in the constant giving and receiving that we grow and become better persons and at the same
time better apostles. vVhat we are now groping for in this area is
a person-centered community life. We are moving away from the
kind of thinking which considers apostolic activity to be "doing
something to someone"; and away from the structure-centered religious life which is imposed on everybody, to a person-centered
religious life.
The fear that a lot of us have concerning the person-centered
religious life is that it is open to a great deal of individual anarchy;
everybody goes his own way and nobody is really concerned about
what the group does. vVe need a profound faith and deep confidence in the value of the person and especially of the Christian
person; that deep within him there is a movement outwards to
others, and out of this orientation towards others comes a community. Community, therefore, emerges from the very meaning of
person and especially a Christian person, rather than being imposed
from outside. It is not something that has to be built into the
- person, but is rather an innate tendency which has simply to be set
free to develop by removing obstacles that may be obstructing its
development.
6. So while it is true that there is no explanation of why we have
this particular community whiCh we call the Society of Jesus except
in terms of the apostolic goals that we as a group wish to accomplish, this may be conceived in too utilitarian a way. If you start
out with a specific apostolic goal in mind and shape persons and
community to it, you could very well reduce persons and community to means. But, if you have a broad apostolic purpose which is
fundamentally to create community in the world and which urges
you out into the world to meet people, to share the Christian presence, then the tension between apostolate and community may be
a creative one. In this case, the community is created by apostolic
effectiveness and apostolic effectiveness is there because of a cer!ain strength of community.
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So much from the Santa Clara conference. Next I would like to
make reference to the Conference on the Spiritual Formation of
Ours which was held in Rome during the first ten days of September. The impression I got upon arriving at the Conference was that
we had been called together to help draw up some prescriptions
which would constitute a follow-up on the decrees of the 31st
General Congregation. Evidently Father General was receiving requests for more detailed directives to be given to the Society concerning the spiritual formation of Ours. A great deal of time was
spent on novitiate and pre-novitiate programs. However, as you
can see from Father General's Instruction "De Nostrorum Institutione in Spiritu", dated December 25 of last year, there was considerable preoccupation with the question of community life. The
rectors of scholasticates who were there were asked to discuss and
respond to a detailed list of questions submitted to them by Father
General. Under the rubric of "our style of life", the following topics
were listed: silence; fixed time for rising, retiring, prayer; visits to
the Blessed Sacrament; obligation of attending classes; limits and
norms for the use of television; our style of dress, inside and outside our houses; the problem of alcohol; smoking; our dealing with
externs; visits to our relatives; visiting the city; social gatherings;
movies; taking part in public demonstrations; and so on.
From the very outset there was a great deal of resistance in the
group against universal prescriptions for the entire Society going
into such detail. In fact, one group of rectors stayed on the larger
questions of the role of the rector and the spiritual father; the reeducation of rectors needed; the question of self-government in
small communities of theologians; unity in the Society; the role of
the general, etc.; and simply did not go into the details listed above.
I mention this only to point out what appeared to me to be another
manifestation of the two mentalities on this question. Among those
who called the Conference, there were some whose approach was
still to get a set of prescriptions which could then be applied
throughout the Society; and this would reduce the uneasiness and
the apparent disorder which seemed to prevail. They were con~
cemed about the unity of the Society and, though in a genuinely
mitigated way and with lots of consultation, were still basically
using the way of uniformity to resolve the problem of unity. A
large majority of the elected delegates at the Conference resisted
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this approach and insisted on the principles of regionalism and
subsidiarity. This applied especially to the area of our style of life,
especially in the novitiate and houses of study. I do not think I
heard anything new on the general question of the tension between
community and apostolate, but I was extremely encouraged by the
experimental stance which most of the delegates took with regard
to the resolution of problems in this area. The experience of the
Santa Clara and Roman Conferences was a great boost to my vocation in the Society.
Apostolic
In his Instruction of December 25, following up on the Roman
Conference, Father General, in nos. 22 and 23, describes the community of. the entire Society as apostolic and says that our community
life takes its origin from our common apostolic vocation and it is not
to be sought as an end for its own sake. The term or center where
all our apostolic activities converge should be placed outside the
ambit of community life and in the people whom we serve. The
note or element of our "action" must be protected and promoted
by the internal life of the community, which however is necessarily
ordered according to the multiple exigencies of our apostolate.
Community in the Society is dynamic. It is vivified by that presence
-of Christ which is promised in Matthew 18:20 to brothers gathered
together in His name, and receives its peculiar strength for the
apostolate from this presence of Christ. By it we are inserted into
the universal mission of the Society.
The values of love, simple -conversation and spontaneous communication drawn from the image of the family are proper to our
community life. However the analogy of the family can be applied
only with discretion to our life. Our houses and style of life are
marked by their own adult, manly, religious, and apostolic character. If, even with mutual charity, we experience a certain psychological austerity, is not this a realistic experience of the sacrifice by
which we renounced family life to devote ourselves completely to
God and man?
The last event I attended in this saga of the relationship between
community and apostolate was the Conference on Apostolic Community held at Spring Hill during this past Christmas week. Among
other presentations, Fr. Fichter contributed a very stimulating
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paper on the nature of community from a sociological point of view,
with reference to the Society of Jesus. He approached community
from a variety of angles, two of which may be of interest to us here.
From the viewpoint of organization, i.e. as a social structure, a
community may be typed as gemeinsclwft (i.e. the smaller, communal, primary group) or gesellsclwft (the larger, associational,
secondary group). Fr. Fichter characterized the Society as the first
breakthrough of a religious group into the gesellschaft structure,
characterized by a rational, impersonal relationship and built on a
rationality that gets things done. It is a voluntary grouping of professional colleagues and peers. Fr. Fichter then proposed the principle of instrumentalism, namely, that form follows function, or
structure follows performance. If, therefore, certain communities
are useful for our purpose, let us promote them to obtain our goals.
If not, let us change them. The debate about small groups versus
large groups is a reflection of an age-old problem of the tension
between autonomy and dependence, personal freedom and institutional restraints, the balance of voluntary consensus and patterned
restraints. Since one cannot escape institutions, the basic question
is: what kind of people need what kind of structure to do what kind
of things?
There was a certain amount of resistance to this approach which
appeared to reduce community to a means in the pursuit of specific
apostolic works. It did not seem to satisfy the expectations of many
of the participants on the level of the human and Christian values
of brotherhood and personal relationships.
So much for the history of the recent discussion on Jesuit community and apostolate. I shall now attempt a brief statement of
matters as I see them. Community and apostolate are the twin
poles of our Jesuit existence and are in some sense essential and
necessary values of our way of life. Abstracting for the moment
from particular styles of community life and forms of apostolate,
I consider the values of community and apostolate as correlative;
the relationship in the concrete being one of dynamic tension between these two poles of our life. On the broadest plane, it is possible to try to resolve this tension by saying that our apostolate is to
create community on all levels in the human family, and this includes our own communities. But I do not think this resolves the
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question of the relationship between our community life and our
apostolates outwards, whether or not you characterize these as in
some sense creating community in various areas of human existence.
And this is the real problem. However, what this approach does do is
to remind us of the importance of community in our lives, and it
makes us at least hesitate to reduce community to the level of a
sheer means to our apostolates.
In the view which makes community a means to the apostolate,
there is a tendency to say that we decide what we want to do and
then we tailor our style of community life to meet the demands of
our apostolates. "Form follows function" is interpreted to mean that
style of community life follows apostolic demands. If a certain style
of.community life is necessary or useful for our apostolic purposes,
we promote this to achieve our apostolic goals. If not, we change the
style to accomplish this. Within limits as to the extent to which one
can stretch styles of living and still call them community life,and I consider these limits rather broad,-I suppose one can
structure his thinking about the relationship between community
and apostolate in this framework. I think it is at least a working
model that serves well in the practical order.
However, I have some difficulty with it. I hesitate to identify
function with apostolate and form with community life, and then
say that form follows function, i.e. community style of life follows
apostolate. I think that both apostolate and community can be
considered as functions and both must take concrete forms in relationship to their respective functions and also in relationship to the
interdependence, interaction, and mutual influence of the two
functions.
Community itself
The necessity of the apostolates in our lives is more than evident
from all that has been said here at this Institute thus far. What is
the necessity of community in itself? Human and Christian existence demand it of man. He is made for community. He becomes
human, person and Christian only in community. A celibate religious especially, I think, needs his religious community in a special
way, if he is to live humanly and as a Christian outside the community of married life. I take it as clear that his growth emotionally,
intellectually, and spiritually are enhanced by community life, and
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in some sense demand community life. I would conjecture that
many of the losses from the priesthood into marriage are precipitated and aggravated by the absence of a community of concern
for the individual priest in which his problems of loneliness would
be reduced or at least gotten to in time. Community also assists a
man in the discernment of spirits, makes it more reliable. It seems
to me that discernment in serious matters can only be done in the
context of the Christian community in which I live. Finally, it is
the heart of the gospel message, to live in community, to build
community, and the religious life is to provide an ideal for Christian
living. For the moment, I prescind from the contribution to the
apostolate which comes from a communal approach to our work.
I am looking for the personal and religious rather than apostolic
function of community. What I am trying to do is to establish the
value and need for community life in its own right, though for a
Jesuit never without reference to the apostolate as the co-essential
element of his existence. Briefly, I am trying to avoid casting community simply in the role of a means to apostolates, even if a
necessary one.
The position I have taken is some sort of middle position between
the monastic approach which makes the community the essential
value and apostolate secondary, and the associational approach
which makes the apostolate the essential value and community
secondary. Can we get a third kind of explanation which makes
them correlative in importance? \Vould this be the sort of personcentered religious life we are groping for? Is it Jesuit?
Getting away from all the theorizing, I think there is a basic
practical agreement on what we are looking for in all this. Maybe
the theoretical discussion is getting in the way. What do we want
of Jesuit community life? Practically, we want genuine personal
human relationships with fellow Jesuits, friendships with them, just
plain human living conditions, to be at home at home, just to live
a human and Christian life. We want these as the basis of community. We do not want impersonal structures as the basis of community life, realizing always that some structure is necessary for
any society. We also do not want a community to be turned in on
itself in a state of constant, neurotic self-examination, a kind of
navel-gazing sometimes referred to as seminary-itis. Our commu-
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
nities are apostolic and are to spring out of themselves and to be
preoccupied with creating community outside of themselves in the
world. I think this is basically what we want, and I would call such
groups person-centered communities of service.
How do we go about getting them? Well, I am not sure of many
things in this area except that we can only proceed through the
instrumentalities of dialog and experimentation. The dialog is picking up and, in fact, I am beginning to get the feeling, where I come
from at least, that we have just about talked ourselves out on this
question. Just reviewing the material presented in this paper from
various institutes, conferences, and meetings gave me the feeling
that I have been through all this before, and more than once, and
that there is very little left to be said, and we have got to do something now. All of which means we have got to move into the area
of experimentation more boldly if for no other reason than to test
what we have been saying and to find out what validity it has.
Of course, I am not advocating just trying things indiscriminately.
But we have set down the norms for serious experimentation elsewhere. And we have simply got to get some more content for the
on-going dialog, some more substance to talk about. I get the feeling that we are beginning to go around in circles now with the
talk. 'Ve need experiences, live attempts at solutions to our prob-lems; to evaluate and either abandon, adopt, or change them.
This has been encouraged by the 31st General Congregation
itself. Under the heading of apostolate, the Congregation came out
strongly, as you know, for the re-evaluation of our ministries.
Chapter 21, entitled "The Better Choice and Promotion of Ministries", and chapter 22, entitled "The Commission for Promoting tbe
Better Choice of Ministries", are obvious enough proof of this. In
the provinces I am most familiar with, Maryland and New York,
these commissions are moving along rather well. The Sociological
Survey or Province Self Study in some places is moving along and
in others it seems to have vanished, gone into hibernation, or perhaps is re-grouping itself for another push forward.
Some of the questions put to me were: "How does the Soci~ty
of Jesus serve the Church precisely as a religious community within
the Church? What is the value of a community of service rather
t~an one man working alone?" Well, I see a great deal of value both
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to community and to apostolate from Jesuits working together in
communities of service. Team work in the apostolate should not
only improve the efficiency and the impact of our work but also
strengthen the bonds of community among the men in such groups.
The use of communal resources, i.e., not just physical facilities and
equipment, but the pooled emotional, intellectual, spiritual and
total personal resources of the members, it seems to me, would enhance both the work of the group and the personal development of
the members in the group.
Broader terms
However, I would hasten to add a few comments to this basic
response. ·when I speak of a community of service, I conceive this
community apostolate or apostolic community in broader terms
than what we might call our Jesuit institutional apostolates. This
gets us into the much-discussed question of the ownership of our
universities, colleges, and even other institutions, and the distinction which has often been made between control and influence. It
is at least possible to carry on communal or corporate apostolates
without ownership of institutions. This would be more evident in
smaller team apostolates which we have always had to some degree
or other in mission and retreat work, and which seems to be possible now in scholarly fields of professional specialization. My point
is that we can distinguish the ownership of institutions as one form
of community apostolate, but it does not exhaust the types of communal apostolates. Between the valuable large institutional apostolates and the individual apostolates, there is a whole range of team
or communal apostolates.
What about the question of the so-called individual apostolates,
where a man is working alone or as part of a non-Jesuit group,
e.g. in a secular university or in a diocesan apostolic group? Well,
I think we have always had men engaged in work like this in the
Society; perhaps, some of our most famous men. I see no reason
why we cannot continue to have both communal and individual
apostolates. In fact, in this time of rapid and profound change, I
Would consider it important and even necessary to keep as many
options open as possible as we search our way into the future.
Individual apostolates are all the more acceptable if the men engaged in them are living in Jesuit communities. The General Con-
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
nities are apostolic and are to spring out of themselves and to be
preoccupied with creating community outside of themselves in the
world. I think this is basically what we want, and I would call such
groups person-centered communities of service.
How do we go about getting them? \Veil, I am not sure of many
things in this area except that we can only proceed through the
instrumentalities of dialog and experimentation. The dialog is picking up and, in fact, I am beginning to get the feeling, where I come
from at least, that we have just about talked ourselves out on this
question. Just reviewing the material presented in this paper from
various institutes, conferences, and meetings gave me the feeling
that I have been through all this before, and more than once, and
that there is very little left to be said, and we have got to do something now. All of which means we have got to move into the area
of experimentation more boldly if for no other reason than to test
what we have been saying and to find out what validity it has.
Of course, I am not advocating just trying things indiscriminately.
But we have set down the norms for serious experimentation elsewhere. And we have simply got to get some more content for the
on-going dialog, some more substance to talk about. I get the feeling that we arc beginning to go around in circles now with the
talk. \Ve need experiences, live attempts at solutions to our problems; to evaluate and either abandon, adopt, or change them.
This has been encouraged by the 31st General Congregation
itself. Under the heading of apostolate, the Congregation came out
strongly, as you know, for the re-evaluation of our ministries.
Chapter 21, entitled "The Better Choice and Promotion of Ministries", and chapter 22, entitled "The Commission for Promoting tbe
Better Choice of Ministries", are obvious enough proof of this. In
the provinces I am most familiar with, Maryland and New York,
these commissions are moving along rather well. The Sociological
Survey or Province Self Study in some places is moving along and
in others it seems to have vanished, gone into hibernation, or perhaps is re-grouping itself for another push forward.
Some of the questions put to me were: "How does the Society
of Jesus serve the Church precisely as a religious community within
the Church? What is the value of a community of service rather
than one man working alone?" Well, I see a great deal of value botn
64
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to community and to apostolate from Jesuits working together in
communities of service. Team work in the apostolate should not
only improve the efficiency and the impact of our work but also
strengthen the bonds of community among the men in such groups.
The use of communal resources, i.e., not just physical facilities and
equipment, but the pooled emotional, intellectual, spiritual and
total personal resources of the members, it seems to me, would enhance both the work of the group and the personal development of
the members in the group.
Broader terms
However, I would hasten to add a few comments to this basic
response. When I speak of a community of service, I conceive this
community apostolate or apostolic community in broader terms
than what we might call our Jesuit institutional apostolates. This
gets us into the much-discussed question of the ownership of our
universities, colleges, and even other institutions, and the distinction which has often been made between control and influence. It
is at least possible to carry on communal or corporate apostolates
without ownership of institutions. This would be more evident in
smaller team apostolates which we have always had to some degree
or other in mission and retreat work, and which seems to be possible now in scholarly fields of professional specialization. My point
is that we can distinguish the ownership of institutions as one form
of community apostolate, but it does not exhaust the types of communal apostolates. Between the valuable large institutional apostolates and the individual apostolates, there is a whole range of team
or communal apostolates.
'What about the question of the so-called individual apostolates,
where a man is working alone or as part of a non-Jesuit group,
e.g. in a secular university or in a diocesan apostolic group? Well,
I think we have always had men engaged in work like this in the
Society; perhaps, some of our most famous men. I see no reason
why we cannot continue to have both communal and individual
apostolates. In fact, in this time of rapid and profound change, I
Would consider it important and even necessary to keep as many
options open as possible as we search our way into the future.
Individual apostolates are all the more acceptable if the men engaged in them are living in Jesuit communities. The General Con-
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
gregation mentions in the chapter on community life: "Our community life should likewise be improved by our common apostolic
work. So we must promote the closest possible cooperation among
Jesuits, by having all or very many in a community devoted to the
same work-" We have already mentioned this advantage to community coming from a common apostolate. However, I think some
diversity among the members of a community might not be bad for
community life, and could perhaps even add a dimension to it.
Sharing different experiences might very well be a source of vitality
in a community, as long as the differing demands of the diverse
apostolates do not pull the community apart in interests and opportunities for being together in moments when genuine communication and sharing can take place.
There is a more radical situation, however, which we should also
mention. What about the man who not only works in an individual
apostolate, but also lives outside the community? Is this in any
sense acceptable, compatible with being a Jesuit? It must be, in
some sense, since we have men in such situations, and perhaps
always have had,-some rather famous. However if this situation
were accepted as the normal occurrence, I would say that we have
had it as a society. There are some who would say that this is the
- desirable goal for mature and competent formed fathers of the
Society; that living in community is necessary in the earlier years
of formation to absorb the spirit and tradition of the Society, to
form one's Jesuit identity; but not after that. This is an illusion as
far as I can see, and would result in the disintegration of the Society
as a community of any kind. However, I can see the possibility of
a certain number of our men living this way out of the practical
necessities of a particular apostolic situation and for a limited length
of time. In fact, we do have this to some degree with some of our
men teaching in secular universities or among our military chaplains, to give but a few examples. And frequently enough these
men develop a keen sense of their identity as Jesuits and a pride in
the Society, I think, because they are forced by the circumstances
in which they find themselves to articulate even to themselves what
being a Jesuit really means. I also think that they develop a sort
9f homing-device which not only helps them to have recourse to
Jesuit communities when possible but also gives them a Jesuit com·
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munity with which to identify even from a distance. When these
ties break down, I think they are in real trouble precisely in their
identity as Jesuits and their relationship to the Society. In other
words, I am saying that such men can be Jesuits only because there
are existing Jesuit communities to which they can relate in some way.
Let us close these remarks on apostolate by another reference to
the need for experimentation in this area. Our apostolates simply
have to be important ones, ones that make a difference. Our men
need this badly. We have to have a sense of doing worthwhile
things. The sacrifices this life asks of us are too big to be made for
trivial things. We have to be dealing with real and important issues.
We have to have a sense of belonging to an organization which
makes a difference to men and to the world, which is sensitive to
the important issues of today's world, and which is capable of doing
something about these issues. This esprit which comes from a felt
sense of competence in worthwhile work as Jesuit apostles is one
of the greatest helps to community life, prayer, the spiritual life,
and everything else. The selection of vital apostolates is utterly
important to the entire life of a Jesuit from the very beginning. It
not only influences the structures of our formation and our style of
life, but it touches upon the very heart of our existence. It determines the type of young men we shall attract to the Society, and
even whether we shall attract them at all.
So much for apostolate and its implications for community. Now
let us take a look at some practical questions arising from the side
of community. Here again we need an experimental attitude with
which to approach this problem. First, some truisms. ( 1) Size alone
will not solve the problem. There are unsuccessful communities of
all sizes, large, medium, and small. ( 2) It seems to me to be an
unrealistic expectation to assign men annually to houses and to expect to have communities right off. It takes years to make a community. If a good community already exists, a small increment can
probably be absorbed into the community to the mutual benefit of
the old and new members. But large and frequent changes are hard
on the community as well as the new men. Of course, if no community exists there, large changes may be a help towards creating
a community in time. ( 3) We should not expect that there is one
type of ideal community for which we are searching. Different
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temperaments need different living conditions. And even if there
were some ideal type of community style for some ideal type of
Jesuit, we are all less than ideal, with de facto limitations that have
to be faced. But I do not believe in ideal types anyhow. I like differences and diversity. So it seems to me there should be a variety
of styles available, within which men may be able to find a way
to find themselves. Even age is a factor, from the very young in the
time of training, to the professionally skilled apostles, to the older
men of the Society. It seems to me that the style of life I want to
live would be different as I move along through these stages of life
in the Society.
World-~ide phenomenon
There are a couple of tendencies in the air these days concerning
styles of community life. Perhaps the most evident is the mystique
of the small community. This is not just a national phenomenon.
It was evident at the September meeting in Rome that this preoccupation is world-wide. The desire for the experience of community has led many to want to live in communities small enough so
that one's personal presence is felt on the physical, emotional and
spiritual level, and one has the opportunity at least to enter into a
personal relationship of greater or lesser intensity with each mem"ber of the community, so that anonymity is next to impossible.
Such living also makes greater demands upon a person and places
greater responsibilities upon him. Unlike life in the large institutional seminary, he is not as free to remain on a superficial level
in his personal relationships. He cannot as easily avoid the demands
of really living with others and all the pain and growth that close
personal relationships involve. Nor should he be encouraged to
avoid such experience.
Another trend of this communitarian sense is the desire to open
our houses to non-Jesuits, to extend our hospitality to others, to
share our goods and ourselves with them much more readily than
we have been accustomed to do in the past. Many do not want our
honses to shield us or cut us off from others, but rather to be places
where we can welcome all in a true spirit of Christian hospitality.
Conflicts arise here between the values of hosnitalitv and privacy,
bttt other people manage to resolve these conflicts without going to
either extreme. We can, too.
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There are so many possibilities in the air these days. I think it
would be wrong to close them out before they have been tried.
I resist those who feel that we are floating too freely and without
clear directives, and that we should get some order back into the
chaos, and quick. First of all, I do not think we can artificially generate order and control when we are not sure what it should be,
i.e. order for its own sake. Besides we may have suffered from too
much order and control. Secondly, this is a period of change and
it is only beginning, if my reading of the signs of the times is at
all accurate. I would hate to opt out of all the excitement just as
it is getting started. Thirdly, experimentation is the key to living
in a period like this, so much so that I would be willing to say that
we not only need individual experiments as we face the future,
but our whole attitude of life should be experimental. We should
develop an experimental cast of mind, even seeing our whole style
of life in experimental terms. And besides, what's wrong with a
little bit of chaos anyhow? In moderate doses, it's good for us.
Life is chaotic to some degree. It is part of being alive and open
to the future.
When Woodstock moves, how are we going to live, all 225 or
250 of us? We have talked this thing into the ground. It is time to
try things. There are at least four different styles available to us.
One rather large central building housing anywhere from 40 to 80.
Brownstones housing from 10 to 15. Apartments housing 3 or 4 each,
and sections of the boarding facilities of several Protestant seminaries, housing about 20. What should we do? I think we should
try all of them simultaneously. With regard to our scholasticates,
I think, at least for the theologians, that the large institutional
seminary style of living is dead. At present, for our plans for the
new Woodstock, I favor a medium-sized central installation of
about 40 or 50 people. I would also like to have in this building
dining facilities large enough so that the members of the satellite
communities could also come there for dinner; and facilities for a
late evening social hour for all; plus other recreational facilities.
Around this location, I would like to try, in the satellite communities, the other types of living I mentioned earlier, and perhaps even
others. I think people should have some variety in the styles of
living open to them. I just like variety. There are a whole host of
detailed questions about how to decide who lives where; where
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the faculty will live; who runs the satellite communities, etc. It
might be interesting to know that Father General posed the question to the Rectors of scholasticates at the September meeting in
Rome as to what they thought of the idea of self-government in the
satellite communities under one overall Rector for the entire complex, in the case of the theologians. Then, before they had a chance
to answer, he settled it by saying that, if our men are not capable
of this by the late twenties and early thirties, we are in trouble and
we are doing something wrong in our formation program.
In all of this we are looking for better community life for its own
sake and for its impact upon our apostolate; to be a better community, of apostolic religious. Some experiments will succeed and
some-)~·ill fail. But that is the very nature of an experiment. It
might, and at least sometimes, it has to fail. If you need to exclude
the possibility of failure before acting, you are not experimenting.
Experimentation even needs the possibility of failure as a value.
Failure in a given experiment gives you new experience and raises
new questions, and leads you on to more thinking, talking and
acting. In the long run, failure serves success. There is no pure
failure, unless we let it be so. Problems are solved by moving ahead.
The goal is not the elimination of all problems but the search for
_the proper problems. \-Ve cannot afford the luxury of solving last
century's problems, or even last year's problems. Things are moving
too fast for that these days. Moving ahead to resolve our present
problems is necessary, while at the same time we realize that our
solutions will only create new problems. That is fine. The secret is
not to be without problems, but to have the right set of problems,
-problems with a future.
At the outset, I was asked how the Society of Jesus serves the
Church precisely as a religious community. I would like to add the
word "today" to that question. How does the Society of Jesus serve
the Church today precisely as a religious community? I am sure
I cannot give an adequate answer to all that we should be doing.
That is what the whole process of the evaluation of our ministries
is concerned with. But there is one immense service we can render
in this area of concern. We can serve the Church by courageous
experimentation in the forms of community and apostolate, thus
sho"·ing the way for religious life today and into the future. People,
religious especially, expect at least this much of us.
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JESUIT ORGANIZATION
VIVIAN TELLIS-NAYAK,
S.J.
exploring general developments
and changes
THE SoCIETY OF JEsus as a formal organization that has endured
through four hundred years presents a unique field for a variety
of interesting sociological investigations: the varying emphasis
placed in its history on the bureaucratic or institutionalizing aspects
of its administration; the impact of local and central leadership on
its morale and performance; and the emergence of formal and informal structures in its diverse cultural environments and situational challenges. The present investigation focuses on one limited
aspect of the Jesuit organisation. It is an attempt towards an exploratory study of certain of its general developments and changes,
not in terms of a descriptive survey but with a view to identify
a few dominant patterns in these developments, to chart their
directions and to search for their main organizational causes.
The main hypotheses of the paper are based on a sociological
interpretation of Jesuit history and thus refer to the Jesuit Order
as a whole. The direct illustrative references to the Indian scene
reflect the author's closer and longer familiarity with the men and
institutions of the Indian Assistancy which with its nearly 3,000 men
is not only the third largest concentration of Jesuits in one country
but also somewhat represents the Jesuit traditions of ten Europe~n
and American countries.
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If we take a broad approach to Jesuit history in order to discern
the more salient trends in the developments and characteristics of
the Order, we might discover that the Jesuit organization has shown
a marked emphasis atcay from group action and team effort in favor
of individual achievement. \Vhether or not this Jesuit proneness
towards individualism has resulted from a manifest attempt on the
part of the Order, it has in fact stead out as a dominant feature
particularly in its later history.
It should be insisted upon that this lack of group thrust and
accent on individual performance is the broader and more marked
pattern which stands out in the history of the life and activity of
the Order. Deviations from the patterns have occurred, and as we
shallJater maintain, the trend of events is definitely shifting in our
own aays. But by and large these deviations have till now been
the exceptions rather than the rule. These exceptions are the more
significant in a compact, mobile and centralized body of men who
have in fact projected an image of being the most well knit and
well disciplined religious body in the Church, as well of group
solidarity and group impact.
This individualistic trend in Jesuit history is best identified in
two of its expressions: a lack of united effort in their work; and a
lack of affective group consciousness in their living.
A lack of united effort
An Order which sets for itself the goal of ready service to the
Church, and therefore lays importance on its flexibility and promptitude to move into urgent situations and to assume any commitment, the Society of Jesus has not been significantly noted for its
coordinated planning, united action or group thrust, This is evidenced by many Jesuit characteristics as they are manifested in
their behavior and performance.
A study of the origins of many of the prestigious and successful
ventures of the Jesuits would yield one proof. Many of the remarkable Jesuit achievements are not the result of well thought out and
planned activity on the part of the Order as such, or even of the
local province men. Often these works have had their origins in
the vision, zeal and daring of individual charismatic men. Except
in the early stages of founding a new province, these zealous
pioneers have been less frequently the superiors themselves and
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more often the men from the rank and file. Thus many of the more
famous Jesuit universities, houses of writers, scholarly journals,
social and technical institutes, welfare projects and training institutions grew out of the insight of individual Jesuits who recognized
a problem, saw an emerging challenge, and had the courage and
strength to launch into a new venture. Not infrequently these new
challenges have come as welcome occasions for them to move out
of over-institutionalized works and find an outlet for their apostolic
zeal in these new tasks.
They have had painfully to convince a not very eager superior,
rally enough enthusiasts inside and outside the Order, seek their
own financial resources, and go through a very similar process of
trial that characterizes the initial effort and drive of charismatics,
zealots and revolutionaries. In some instances the Order has come
forward with generous financial and personnel assistance only after
the new venture had weathered its initial crisis of survival. By and
large then most of the historic achievements of Jesuits grew not
out of the prevailing mood, initiative or vision of the local Jesuit
body as a whole, or even primarily of the superiors, but out of the
idealism and drive of individual Jesuits.
A study of the Jesuit staff of most of the larger Jesuit institutions
will afford another proof of the lack of cohesive, corporate effort
among the Jesuits. Some of the Jesuit universities are a case in
point. It is not rare that they have on their staff some brilliant,
creative minds remarkable for their administrative or scholarly
abilities. And yet many Jesuit universities show a conspicuous lack
of team effort, common planning or even scholarly intellectual
communion among these intellectuals. More often than not they
are lone scholars brilliant in tl1eir individual performance, bringing
prestige to their Order through their individual scholarly achievements. But they often lack any notable sense of corporate mission
in terms of the institution they arc working for. They are dedicated
in their service to their department and to its growth and development, but they do not necessarily carry a missionary sense towards
the whole institution of which their department may only be a part.
Thus it happens tl1at many of the bigger Jesuit institutions lack a
sufficient interdepartmental communication and support, not in an
administrative or bureaucratic sense, but in Jesuit terms, in terms
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of personal contribution, common interest and responsibility that
might be expected of the members of a religious Order.
Absence of long range policy
A third indication in the same direction could be found in the
absence of long-range policies in the choice of ministries and the
deployment of forces in individual Jesuit provinces. The commitments a province makes in men, money, effort and time have generally been the decision of the provincial. The relevance and apostolic effectiveness of these commitments have largely depended on
the insight and temperament of the provincial. The direction and
wisdom of the course a Jesuit province has taken has often depended,on the inspiration of the reigning superior. But provincials
come ~and provincials go. Sometimes the newcomers have had
radically to reverse the policies of their predecessor when they
have not been condemned to perpetuate his mistakes in policy or
commitments due to the sheer volume of investment in money and
effort.
There is no official administrative body in the province that continues through the reign of more than one man, and which can
decisively and consistently affect the policy decisions regarding the
province ministries. The provincial consultors lack deliberative
power and their nomination depends much on the provincial himself. ·whatever organizational or operative benefits might derive
from this structure, it is a historical fact that, for instance in some
of the Indian provinces, provincials not unduly blessed with leadership, charism, or vision have exercised their zeal and good will so
determinedly and decisively that it has taken considerable time and
wisdom for their successors to reverse the ill-conceived trends and
allay the consequent frustrations in the province.
In rapidly changing societies like India this type of power invested in the leader can redound enormously to the achievement
of the Order's goals as well as to their stultification. To a service
and apostolate oriented organization like the Jesuits it is crucial
that it is equipped with an administrative machinery that can perceptively analyze, and swiftly and wisely decide on the best responses to the continually shifting or growing apostolic challenges
that present themselves in a society caught up in an upheaval
process. Opportunity or possibility shows itself as unexpectedly as
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it slips away and disappears. Only a trained band of experts under
the provincial perhaps will be able to remain ever alert to these
emerging possibilities and to suggest action that might demand the
total mobilization of forces and men. This approach has been
largely foreign to Jesuit thinking till now, or at least to their actual
behavior. And this perhaps accounts partly for the fact that in
rapidly changing societies like India the Jesuit Order has seen an
emergence of remarkable individual charism and the initiation of
new projects by individual charismatics. But the Order as a whole,
at least on the province level, has shown a marked lack of far reaching vision or policy, rationalized planning or organizational thrust
in its sporadic and scattered efforts.
All these expressions of Jesuit character and performance indicate
that the Jesuit characteristic has not been that of any remarkable
team achievement, united action or corporate effectiveness which
indeed are a modem concept and technique increasingly evidenced
in the team effort of scientists and researchers. The Jesuit organization originated in pre-modem times, times that needed individualists of self confidence and discipline, and produced them.
An absence of affective group consciousness
That was one expression of the individualist slant in the Jesuit.
Another is a lack of affective group consciousness and group feeling. This of course is not meant to mean that there is any noteworthy lack of affective unity or feeling of group solidarity among
the Jesuits. A group of men sharing the same ideals, formation and
religious motivation, not only develop a familial spirit, but they do
often feel a legitimate pride in the prestige and achievement of
their Order. But still this sense of identification of a Jesuit with his
Order is perhaps more of an identification with the world body,
its prestige, its public image, rather than any notable group affinity
and corporate mission in terms of the local enterprises and institutions he is immediately and directly involved in.
This is particularly true of the more institutionalized institutions
of the Order. The larger Jesuit universities where there is a large
group of Jesuits living together are again a pointed instance. They
are at times a community of scholars living under one roof, but
not always or necessarily sharing a distinctive affective interest in
the progress of the institution beyond the department under their
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care. They live under one roof but are not particularly concerned
with the general problems that confront the institution; not spontaneously inclined to study them, get involved in them or volunteer
their services to fellow Jesuits affected by them. Rather they are
more likely to feel that the larger interests of the institution are the
duty of some specified officials perhaps higher up in the hierarchy.
The larger a Jesuit community and a Jesuit institution, the greater
is the probability of the incidence of such a phenomenon. Of course
every Jesuit community has its informal groups drawn together
through friendship, common interest or temperament. Their mutual
interest, help and cooperation, which are typical of any such friendship group, really accentuate the fact that the total community
lacks a.. similar emotional group feeling towards the work, well
being or excellence of the institution as such.
Thus it seems that the individualistic slant of the Jesuit character
can be detected in two of its main expressions: a lack of united,
organizational effort and team achievement; and an insufficiency of
group consciousness, corporate interest and common responsibility
in communities, institutions and regions.
The trend of individualism in Jesuit history, whatever its depth
and intensity, is distinctive enough to affect the Jesuit character at
yarious levels and in different ways. Its roots likewise can be traced
to different levels of Jesuit existence. At the deepest level its main
cause stems from the general orientation of Jesuit training and
spirit.
The Constitutions of the Order and the Jesuit philosophy of life
have geared Jesuit training to produce fully equipped, self sufficient, well rounded individualists, rather than men trained to depend and rely on, cooperate and join forces with their fellow men.
The theory and technique of Jesuit training have aimed at producing men suited for the purpose of the Order with its heavy
emphasis on mobility and adaptability. If it purports to be of ready
service to the Church in any urgency, then the Society of Jesus
should cultivate the only Jesuit characteristic, as the present general
has been fond of saying, of not having any characteristic at all; it
needs then to be highly centralized in its command with full operating authority vested in the superior at various levels; it finds it necessary to solemnly bind itself in direct obedience to the Pope; but
above all it needs to have at its disposal and at its ready command
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dependable men with a generalized training, confident of singly
facing the more common challenges of the apostolic life, prepared
to switch roles and places and often pioneer alone into new forms
of activity.
The theory and practice of group dynamics are largely absent in
the Jesuit Constitutions, training and life. The times and situations
in which the Jesuits had their origins neither knew nor very much
needed team apostolate and team activity (as we know them today)
for the planning and execution of strategies. St. Ignatius and his
Constitutions are in this respect very much the creatures of their age.
Group solidarity
In the Jesuit Constitutions and tradition, group solidarity and
loyalty are much more viewed as a religious requirement and
Christian principle, rather than as a technique and strategy for the
success and effectiveness of the Order. The familial feeling that the
Jesuit Constitutions try to foster is much more love oriented than
action oriented. St. Ignatius who so ingeniously provides his men,
through his Constitutions and Spiritual Exercises, the psychological
aids and structural pressures needed for attaining whatever important purposes he thought were essential to his Order, significantly
relies mainly on religious exhortation and Christian motivation to
promote the harmony and unity he deemed essential among his
men. He structured his Order on paternalistic lines not fraternal,
monarchic not democratic. The subjects have direct and immediate
access to the superior, but it is always in secret and in confidence,
never through group representation, The creation of public opinion
among Jesuits or the generation of any social or group pressure to
influence the judgement or action of the superiors, is entirely foreign to the Jesuit Constitutions and thinking.
A major contributory element in a Jesuit's training and life is his
intimate and repeated association with the Spiritual Exercises.
Jesuits as a whole, like all their General Congregations, have with
near unanimity claimed to base their personal and their Order's
spirit and inspiration on the Spiritual Exercises. The Spiritual Exercises on their part lay insistent and heavy emphasis on the personal encounter of an individual with Christ. There is barely any
mention in them of communal techniques or group dynamics in the
attaining or sustenance of the religious experience. Neither do the
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Spiritual Exercises rely very much on group liturgy as of central
importance for their purpose. The more recent introduction of
group techniques or of some forms of liturgical practices into the
Spiritual Exercises has not been unanimously welcomed even among
the experts. The Spiritual Exercises stress the face to face meeting
with Christ of a Christian, alone and not in the company of fellow
believers. The Exercises, like the Constitutions, rely entirely on
personal prayer, personal meditation, particular examen, general
examen and such like individualistic techniques for the attaining
of self discipline and self perfection. The aid of the superior or the
spiritual father in this process is asked for and received in private.
All through his formation the procedures utilized to encourage a
Jesuit ..to receive criticism from and offer it to his fellow Jesuits,
again focus on the discipline and perfection of the individual and
thus help train a perceptive and ready critic rather than a cooperative team mate. This orientation begins in his noviceship and ends
in producing within the Order the whole spectrum of theological
positions, approaches to life, ideas and opinions. It has been suggested that every type of Christian, conservative or liberal, liturgist
or antiliturgist, reactionary or enlightened, can search and find
among the Jesuits a staunch ally.
The Order's concern for producing a "perfect" individual is again
evidenced in the remarkable variety and yet the generalized quality
of the academic training which a Jesuit receives-or used to till
recently. Specialization was always in addition to this generalized
training. Jesuits were, and in .some places even now are, not told
till the last days of their training what their future work would be,
or what was to await them once they left the formation house. They
were supposed to be generally equipped and emotionally detached
enough to accept any one of the diverse and unrelated functions in
the Province-parish work, education, missions.
This practice is indeed suggestive of the lack of a general, longrange plan on the part of the local superior as to the deployment
of his men. But nonetheless this practice is in part a survival of an
older tradition and a relic from older times when an intensified
humanistic, philosophical, and theological training sufficiently
equipped a Jesuit to meet effectively the demands of his times and
vocation. But a deep rooted tradition dies hard; so even in an age
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of specialisation and of declining vocations which would demand a
wisely economical utilization of talent, Jesuit parish priests, missionaries, spiritual fathers etc., hardly receive any specialised theological or practical training in their specialized vocation.
The concept and practice of Jesuit obedience
The general theory and direction of Jesuit training are one cause
of Jesuit individualism. This has been further complemented by the
concept of obedience prevalent in the Order. Obedience in its concept and practice in the Society of Jesus was indeed only a reflection of the thinking and practice in the Church. For a religious the
will of God was manifested through the will of the superior, and
the religious perfection of the subject lay in its conformity to it.
The central thing was the content of the superior's command, not
its wisdom; the subject's compliance, not his initiative; his execution of the deed, not his contribution in its planning. This militaristic Jesuit approach was not designed to encourage the participation of the subject in the joint planning and mutual exchange of
ideas between the superior and the subject, and even less among
the subjects themselves. Dialogue, an open give-and-take approach
and corporate effort are almost entirely a recently phenomenon
among the Jesuits.
Again Jesuit obedience, perhaps much against its founder's intent
and its earlier tradition, came to be looked upon more as a means
for the subject's sanctification rather than for apostolic effectiveness.
There are very recent and striking instances where individual superiors have utilized religious obedience to test the religious spirit
and religious detachment of their subjects even when it has resulted
in individual frustrations and damage to the quality and future of
Jesuit works. This accent on the "sacrificial" aspect rather than the
functional in obedience, is also the cause, though not always the
only or the main one, for the wasteful employment of Jesuit talent,
as seen for example in the fairly abundant and widespread instances even in recent history when highly qualified men have been
assigned to tasks for which they had little talent or interest. As early
as in the time of Father General Ledochowski, the General had reminded the superiors of the gravity of their responsibility in this
regard.
An obedient and ideal Jesuit has sometimes been characterized
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as a person standing with his one foot raised ready to march when
and where the superior might order him. This stress on the militaristic, "sacrificial" and unpredictable aspect of Jesuit obedience,
conducive as it is not to let a Jesuit get institutionalized or anchored
to any task or position, nevertheless has stressed the vertical aspect
of his obedience and not sufficiently the importance of the horizontal dimension of his life.
A further cause of the individualistic trait in the Jesuit character
is the historical development of the existing form of Jesuit community living. The stress in many Jesuit communities has been on
"common life" rather than on "communal living". The insistence on
common, rules, procedures and practices which promote physical
presenet;< and contact rather than meaningful interaction among
intellectuals, has tended to breed frustrations, escapist mechanisms
and individualistic deviances which in fact are the common malaise
in most of the bigger Jesuit communities. Rarely do these larger
communities exhibit any distinctive family spirit. Personal problems, sic1.."TTess or absence, like Jesuit guests, hardly attract the notice
or the affective interest of the community members preoccupied
with their individual work and commitments. Though small compensatory circles of friends do develop along lines of interest or
common work, Jesuit communities not rarely resemble hostels where
individuals return for board and lodging rather than for inspiration, understanding and support as to a religious family.
A final cause of Jesuit individualism might spring from the sheer
size of the Order as the largest in the Church. Numerical growth in
provinces and communities renders frequent and meaningful communication difficult between superiors and subjects as well as
among subjects themselves. As the superior finds it harder to maintain full knowledge and control of his men, to keep ready and
direct contact with them and to render inspiring and effective
leadership, the subjects' communication with the superior tends to
become less frequent and more difficult, hurried, and impersonal.
In the Jesuit structure, the role and leadership of the superior play
a vital cohesive function through the enthusiasm, cooperation, and
team participation he elicits among his men for the common tasks.
Impersonality and impotency in the exercise of his leadership therefore can foster an atomization of forces and an individualism among
the personnel.
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In summary, therefore, it might be said that the Jesuit Order
which organizationally is so well knit, centralized in its command
and disciplined in its training and form, has not exhibited a proportionately organized and concentrated thrust in its team effort
or in its corporate effectiveness to attain its goal. This development
which has been characterized by a certain individualism among
Jesuits, is not merely an accidental historical development, but in
fact it has its roots in the Constitutions, the structural set-up and
the peculiar philosophic bias of the Jesuit system.
Complementary developments
The individualistic development which we have tried to identify
was a predominant characteristic of Jesuit history. More recently
rapid and radical changes have been taking place in the thinking
and behavior of the Jesuits. These new trends which seem to be on
the whole complementary to the previous developments found expression in the deliberations of the 31st General Congregation and
received their official sanction in its Decrees.
The General Congregation though not entirely representative or
reflective in its participating delegates of the opinions and ideas
among the Jesuits, yet for curious reasons did reflect their dominant mood and aspirations in its Decrees which were therefore
accepted with surprising and almost universal satisfaction even
among the younger, restless section of the Order. This favorable
response more than their binding force is likely to make these
Decrees the guiding norms, which they arc meant to be, for the
current developments, changes and experiments that are taking
place in the Order and are explicitly encouraged by the Decrees
themselves.
Among the vastly different areas and forms in which these new
experiments are being conducted one can observe the emergence
of a somewhat general pattern and theme. The direction of this
emerging pattern seems to run counter to the earlier individualistic
trends and in essence serves to complement them. This new pattern
of events is highlighted in the following trends.
There is a marked new trend towards fostering a group consciousness through personal and corporate involvement in the commitments of the Order. It seems to be increasingly realized in the
Order that common traditions, life, and goals have to be supple-
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mented by common action and participation in order to generate
group feeling. There are a number of changes that are encouraging
this united effort.
The General Congregation has called for a "Commission on
Ministries" to be set up in every province for the study and suggestion of priorities of action. It is intended to be a kind of permanent
task force represented by experts from various province activities,
who remain sensitive to emerging challenges in their region and
suggest appropriate action. This experiment is meant to be a step
towards rationalizing the province effort; but like the current General Sociological Survey of the Society of Jesus it has also the latent
function of involving the men of a province in the study of their
common apostolic problems and in the planning and execution of
the strategy to meet them. This new experiment in different forms
is being tried at different levels in communities and regions where
expert bodies, study groups, and committees are set up for the dual
purpose of keeping in mutual contact men directly involved in different particular problems, and also for studying and suggesting
solutions to different problems of Jesuit life and activity.
An even more far reaching change in this direction is the new
participation of every formed Jesuit in the government and official
policy of the province and the Society. In the future the delegates
- to the province congregation will not be the senior most professed
men of the province, but those from every rank of the formed Jesuits
elected by the personal vote of every province man. This is entirely
a new and bold step towards. democratic behavior hitherto alien
to the Jesuit system. It is very-likely that this participation will soon
be even more democratized with the levelling off of the grades
among formed Jesuits which will entitle every Jesuit priest to be
elected for the General Congregation.
Isolationism
Along with democratic developments goes a new effort to break
down isolationism among provinces. Inter-provincial cooperation,
exchange and communication are indeed an innovation where formerly Jesuit provinces were patterned after Catholic dioceses where
the provincial, like the bishop in his diocese, was solely in command
and answerable only and directly to the general in Rome. Not only
are inter-provincial meetings becoming the order of the day, and
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provincials of a country are being obliged to meet annually for a
review of policy, but in some regions the general is experimenting
with new tasks assigned to super or inter-provincials in the interest
of better efficiency in planning, cooperation, and use of personnel.
The installation of the four general assistants, of expert consultors
and advisors to the general can be viewed as steps in the same
direction though at a higher level; which fact highlights the paradoxical nature of the new pattern of events: a decentralization. of
authority and emphasis on localism which go hand in hand with
centralized planning and heightened communication.
Another sacred tradition of the Order went overboard when
the General Congregation dropped the absolute secrecy imposed
on its delegates and itself set up an efficient information service
that kept the whole Society briefed on the current developments
in the discussion and mood of the Congregation fathers. In stark
contrast to previous comparable experience in congregation history,
this innovation evoked a keen sense of participation and involvement among the Jesuits in the tasks and decisions of the Congregation.
Perhaps encouraged by this experience the 31st General Congregation further decreed the erection of an information center at
Rome, more efficient and expert than before, to keep the 35,500
Jesuits in the world informed, in a more readable medium than
Latin, about the major activities and problems of the Order. Jesuits
from many countries or group of countries are seeking to set up, as
in Asia for example, similar and more functional regional centres
that could render specialised service to a group of provinces to
facilitate exchange of men, means, news and ideas. The 31st General
Congregation has also in an unprecedented decree asked the general to be in personal and frequent contact with his men around
the globe through regular journeys. The journeys Father General
Arrupe has already undertaken to meet and live with his men span
the entire globe; they have served as a potent factor in engendering
enthusiasm, interest, and a sense of affinity among Jesuits regarding the tasks confronting the Order as a whole.
Thus through common action, involvement, participation, and
representation in government, as well as through meaningful interprovincial cooperation, the Jesuits are trying to achieve a new
deepened sense of group consciousness.
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Democratic ways in government and style of life are one major
trend; the other, on a different level, can be noticed in the new
forms of community living being evolved in the Order.
Communal living
A Jesuit's life is not necessarily a community life, and where it
is lived in large, institutionalized communities it has generated
many problems. One of the important new changes in this regard
is the attempt to break down large communities in order to establish small houses in the hope of fostering a personalized living and
interaction. In some provinces Jesuits attached to a university live
in rented apartments in small groups, while the existing large communities are experimenting in new forms to create opportunities for
more- meaningful communication among the members. Thus committees or groups are set up to assume the responsibility for the
efficient functioning of some areas of community life. Some times
the community is assembled by the superior in small or big groups
for dialogue sessions for the purpose of communicating information
about his problems or policies, for eliciting ideas, or for deliberative action on their part regarding some of their common problems.
Where the big communities had fostered anonymous living and
impersonality of contact, these new forms of cooperation, dialogue
and group action are slowly encouraging the responsibility and in- terest of everyone towards the community at large. Unfamiliarity
and artlessness in the use of the tools of group dynamics are the
cause in some places of fresh frustrations or resentment on the part
of some too accustomed to an.old form of life. But in some other
quarters the experiment is subtly and surely changing the style of
Jesuit living. For example Jesuit refectories no longer remind one
of military barracks with their long rows of dining tables; in their
place now one discovers small tables around which men meet, relax
and dialogue during meals.
This same trend is more markedly obvious in the formation
houses which are generally the largest communities of the Jesuits.
Significantly the General Congregation chose to promulgate its
first decree about scholastics in training; specifically regarding these
bigger houses the General Congregation decreed that a new pattern
of life must be encouraged in the future whereby young Jesuits live
in small separate communities in different houses from where they
~ttend common classes and are guided by one and the same faculty.
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Experiments in small group activities, including the celebration of
liturgy in little intimate groups, find a variety of expressions in
these communities, on the theory that personalized contact and
training in dialogue and team responsibility during one's formation
years are going to equip a Jesuit with the openness of mind and
faith in team effort needed for the future work of the Order.
A new theological approach
A third and in a sense deeper trend can be noted in the new
Jesuit thinking and approach to religious obedience. There is a
growing importance now being placed on the obedience of function
rather than the obedience of faith. The General Congregation in
its Decree on Obedience and Fr. Arrupe in his press conference
of November 24, 1966 at the close of the Congregation widely reflect the thinking in the Society when they place religious obedience
in a perspective of the cooperative effort of the community and
the superior to find the objective will of God defined in terms of
the best possible service to the Church and to the world. Obedience
thus is being seen as a concern for a goal oriented rather than a
law oriented living.
This mentality can be seen operative in many of the new changes.
Obedience is now becoming a means for efficiency and the maximum utilization of individual resources and talents, while on the
other hand personal fulfilment and the conscious interior growth
of the subject is getting equal attention. The young Jesuit is no
more just assigned to acquire specialization in any field according
to the needs of the Order and not with much regard for individual
interest or talent. He is now on the contrary encouraged early in
his formation to assume personal responsibility for the choice of
the area of his development and life's task in the light of the needs
of the Society.
Conformity to rules and regulations as the sole criterion of perfection is a notion that is being replaced by the conviction that
the Rule affords one only a general guidance for the meaningful
interpretation of one's situation in the context of the common good.
Thus decisions regarding prayer times and prayer duration are
largely left to the discretion of individuals. The hitherto grave
Church obligation of reciting the breviary is in many places being
commuted, with official approval, to the reading of Scripture or
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other prayerful activity. "Custom Books" had become an institutionalized tradition in the late history of the Jesuits. Many provincials had edited new "Custom Books" and had them approved by
Father General Janssens a little before the Congregation took place.
These "Custom Books" with their heavy legal overtones detailed
norms for the practical behavior of individuals in different provinces
even to the extent of defining their behavior on the beach, their
partaking of liquor outside the Jesuit house, and their mJdes of
travel. The General Congregation has suddenly rendered obsolete
the very idea of the "Custom Books".
This new emphasis on personal growth and fulfilment seems to
be oriented to fester and sustain the corporate feeling of community ,~-hich the Jesuits arc looking for. Individuals make an aggregate;-only persons can make up a fa~nily or community. Individualism accentuates self sufficiency, independence, and isolationism,
while openness to others through personalized living, fruitful cooperation and pooling of strength, contribute to personal fulfilment
and make for the cohesive affinity and strength of a community of
men.
--
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�PSYCHOLOGICAL DIMENSIONS OF THE
"JESUIT FAMILY''
JosEPH
J.
PAPAJ,
S.J.
evaluating the traditional
THE USE OF METAPHOR, IMAGE, FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE in general, to
express deeper realities in a way that can be more easily comprehended by an individual is not a modern phenomenon. Far from
being a dangerous approach, furthermore, it has been a valid source
in the history of man's continuing quest for knowledge. Danger,
however, does arise when the image is taken to represent literally
the reality towards which it points, or when the image has, in the
course of time, changed its connotations or means something other
than when the image was first used. Such is the danger which faces
the Society of Jesus (and probably other religious orders as well)
today as it directs its energies toward a renewal in the sphere of
community life.
The Jesuit community has traditionally been viewed as a "family"
in which each individual lives out his life in carefully defined actions of charity to his ''brothers" and of obedience to his superior,
whom he theoretically regards as a "father". The origins of this
figurative way of speaking of a Jesuit community are difficult to
trace; the Jesuit "family concept" is much more an oral sort of
tradition rather than a carefully worked out written thesis. Nonetheless, it did begin and is still very much in vogue today. Edward
Heenan, S.J., in suggesting small task-oriented communities as a
solution to our contemporary quest for more realistic communal
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living, points out a primary function of any religious community,
large or small. "The religious community," he writes, "should be a
family, an in-group, or a primary group ...." 1 Or again, the recent
American Assistancy Conference at Santa Clara recommends that,
as a help to fostering our community life, "our communities should
be true homes in which all members ... feel equally at home,"2 an implicit recognition of this traditional family image.
The thesis of this paper maintains that, at least unwittingly, such
an approach to the Jesuit community is rooted in a false understanding of the meaning of "family." As will be shown, the equating
of community with family reflects an identification with a precontemporary model of the family. This model, under the force of
a copsistently growing technology, has rearranged itself into a
newer" reality-a "nuclear" family where roles have shifted, functions have changed. Unless this fact is recognized and taken into
consideration on the practical level of daily living all efforts at community renewal are doomed to inadequacy and, paraphrasing Carnell psychologist Uric Bronfenbrenner, to depriving member Jesuits
of essential human experience. 3
After an examination of the shift in the family model the paper
further contends that a more fruitful approach to community life
can be found in the findings of modern theological studies, and
that these can be reconciled with the concept of "family" so traditional among Jesuits. Only in this way will the establishment of a
Jesuit family offer any meaningful value to the individual member
of the contemporary Society of_Jesus.
The family model
Even a cursory glance at some of the materials available on recent scientific studies of the concept of "family" will immediately
reveal the complexity involved in applying such a concept to a
reality such as Jesuit community living. One must accept the fact
that the word "family" has many emotional associations and is
1
Edward F. Heenan, S.J., "A Quest for Religious Community," wooDsTOCK
96 (1967 ) , 297.
2 Proceed"ngs of the Conference on the Total Development of the Jesuit
Priest (Santa Clara, 1967), Vol. 3, Prt. 2, C68.
' 'Uri~ BronccdJrcnner, quoted in the Time essay: "On Being An American
Parent," Time (December 15, 1967), p. 31.
LETTERS,
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understood in different ways by different people. 4 One must also
accept the difficulty that confronts any attempt to establish a general picture of those characteristics which constitute the "normal"
family and which may be applicable to all families; 5 family characteristics will vary with ethnic backgrounds, cultural contexts, immediate social environments, and a variety of other factors. Nonetheless, these studies do offer a number of specific areas where,
phenomenologically considered, the change that has taken place in
the family model may be discerned.
The first of these areas is the father. It has been pointed out that
before the technological advances of our modern society the father's
role had a clearly defined function: he was the "bread maker." As
such, he was evidently the most important member of the family,
holding a position of honor that carried with it a demand for respect from all other members of the family. The family structure,
thus, was markedly lineal. In his examination of the family pattern
in contemporary society, Dr. John Spiegel highlights this hierarchical rather than individualistic patterning by considering an
American family with Irish ethnic background. One of his observations on the discernible traces of the former family set-up in Ireland
(where technology had not as yet so powerfully influenced the
family as in America) is striking for its relevance to Jesuit living.
"At mealtime," he states, "the father and the male children are
served before the wife and the girl children." 6 Making the necessary change in reading "older members" for "male children" and
"younger members" for "girl children," a Jesuit need only recall his
experience at dinner time in most of the refectories he has been in
to see how this former trait of the family is still very much in vogue
with the Society today.
With the entrenchment of technology in modern life, however,
the father has become a "bread-winner" and with this shift there
was entailed a number of ramifications in the family structure. His
4
Cf. Norman W. Bell and Ezra F. Vogel, "Toward a framework for Functional
Analysis of Family Behavior," A Modern Introduction to the Family (New
York, 1960), p. I.
5
Elizabeth Batt, "Norms and Ideology: The Normal Family," ibid., p. 435.
6
John P. Spiegel, M.D., "Homeostatic Mechanisms Within the Family,"
The Family in Contemporary Society, edited by lago Galdston, M.D. (New
York, 1958), p. 86.
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new role now necessitated his absence from the home; there resulted a number of negative effects on family members ranging
from the diminishing influence of an authority figure to low selfesteem to hunger for immediate gratification to susceptibility to
group inHuence. 7 Again a Jesuit need only reflect on the superior's
position as it has been put before him from the novitiate on, and
on the ideal type of relation between subject and superior which
accompanies that position to see how outmoded is this kind of sonfather paradigm. Given this new type of family background it becomes easy to find, in this unrealistic approach, an explanation for
the absence in young Jesuits of warm, cordial feelings to superiors
and a p~sitive cause of many of the tensions in community living.
A se.cond area in which the family model changed is in that of
the mother. No longer merely a childbearer, she now assumes a
significant portion of that responsibility which was formerly her
husband's. She finds herself in a situation where a closeness with
her children, formerly unthinkable, is now possible. When the children reach the age of four, however, contemporary society assumes
the task of educating the children and the wife finds it possible to
obtain a job and/ or become involved in various activities that take
her out of the family circle. Precisely how this fact has altered the
QOwer structure of the family is disputed and open to discussion. 8
Nonetheless, the point is that the mother's role has shifted and, as
will be pointed out, such a change contributes significantly to today's family model.
The implications contained in the previous considerations of
father and mother regarding a tliird area-that of the childrenneed not, for the purposes of this paper, be fully developed. The
fact that change has taken place here too should be obvious. It is
only necessary to point out the development of the freer, more individualistic position which children hold today in the family.
Parents' expectations of what their children are to be are no longer
confined, for the most part, to following in the parents' footsteps.
7 These are the findings of studies on father-absent homes referred to in
"On Being an American Parent," op. cit., p. 30.
8 Robert 0. Blood, Jr. and Robert L. Hamblin, for example, maintain there
is no significant alteration. Cf. "The Effects of the Wife's Employment
on .the Family Power Structure," A Modern Introduction to the Family, op. cit.,
pp. 137-142.
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Likewise, the assimilation of values no longer relies solely on the
family but has widened to make room for the influence of the peer
group. Finally, the children of today are expected to contribute
much more to helping reach decisions regarding family concerns.
Granted that a communication gap seems to be a widespread, communal characteristic of the family, nonetheless the new family setup, especially as a system in which an interchange of roles is predominant0, has produced a generation which has experienced a
new freedom in family activities never before possible in the family
model. It is imperative to keep in the background these new traits
of freedom and mobility in our later discussion of the family concept in the Jesuit community.
New roles
From this examination of the family system one may correctly
conclude that a change in the process to which the concept "family"
has been attached has taken place, and is still going on. Contemporary society finds a new, albeit generalized, family model in which
the roles of members has shifted. But accompanying this shift of
roles is likewise a number of new characteristics in the functions
performed by individual members of the family. Authority no
longer lies in the person of one member alone but now extends to
the mother who has been forced to accept much of the responsibility in this area. The family is no longer the major economic unit
in which the children help with the task of "making bread"; unifying economic functions were lost and the individual has become
the major economic unit. Thus, one of the principal causes of family
cohesion has given way to a new emphasis on individual competency. Furthermore, it is precisely in terms of this competency
that the current family policy of a corporate decision-making practice had developed, replacing the former policy of "father says
'do this!'" and everyone followed. Co-relative with the breakdown
of cohesion arc the various manifestations of a new diffusion in the
9
:Morris Zehlitch, Jr., in "Role Differentiation in the Nuclear Family: A
Comparative Study," A Modern Introduction, op. cit., pp. 329-338, studies
this phenomenon in some detail. While he concludes that the nuclear family
"differentiates in the direction expected and allocates the relevant roles to the
Persons expected," p. 337, his observations in its variation in specific activities
are highly relevant to the ideas presented in this paper.
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family, recreation outside the family circle and involvement in outside interests, to mention just two examples. And finally, we may
add the characteristic of competition that takes place within the
family, a process which has gone to such an extreme that one may
observe a new phase germinating: the striking alienation that is
taking place today between the young generation and their parents.
At the outset this paper submitted that Jesuit community life has
failed to take cognizance of the change in the family model. While
again this is a generalization, and as such is necessarily opened to
modifications, at this point the author would like to show from personal experience how such thinking manifests a pre-technological
understanding of the family. The connection of this with the remarks .just presented will be sufficiently evident by themselves to
mak& further development unwarranted.
The example of the Jesuit refectory has already been cited. More
significant is the charge frequently levelled whenever younger
Jesuits try to make honest suggestions about improvements in time
order, the way work may be more efficiently carried out, and the
like. "They are trying to take over," "they're ruining our hard work,"
and similar remarks are typical of the comments that can be heard
in the haustus room. Surely no recognition is given in such instances
to the fact that this kind of thing has been part of the young Jesuit's
_upbringing in his family.
Another instance personally experienced is the superior who feels
that villa or mid-term vacation periods should be spent by having
the younger members of the community pack their bags and retreat to some far-off site for
joyful period of togetherness. To
widen the scope of this way of thinking, what Jesuit doesn't recall
a superior who criticizes members because they will not join in with
the others at communal recreation after dinner or because they
bury themselves in the evening newspaper? Or again, what of the
often repeated argument that everyone should be together for, as
an example, Christmas day? The contemporary family does not operate this way and yet it is still expected that the Jesuit family will.
Finally, in the area of competency, many Jesuits are still expected
to teach in high school for three years-even though it quickly becomes obvious that not everyone is capable of this. Likewise, one's
interest in his own special field must be subservient to the course
a
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requirements expected of all Jesuits, and his future is determined
by his success in this. Recently a theologian received a communication from a prefect of studies in answer to his request to accept a
position with a university offering him a fellowship during his
fourth year of theology in conjunction with doctoral work in history. Permission would be withheld pending high marks by the
scholastic in his theology courses. And how many Jesuits have been
complemented by either superiors or fellow members for success
achieved in fields of endeavor in anyway out of the ordinary, runof-the-mill works of the Society?
These comments, admittedly, do not represent the total experience of Jesuit community life, nor, perhaps, even the more significant aspects. They do indicate, however, a fair representation of
how the Society's image of "family" has failed to embrace a newer
reality operative in community life. The question then arises: how
should such life be conceived? One answer might be to think of it
still in terms of the family image but as now including the newer
reality outlined above. Perhaps a more fruitful approach can be
found in some of the suggestions developed in recent theological
studies; it is to these, then, that attention is turned.
Recent theological findings
Modern science's challenge, represented by such writers as Sigmund Freud and Julian Huxley, to the significance of religion in
man's life has been met by a number of Protestant and Catholic
theologians. In examining the charge that religion is only a psychological device to enable the projection of wish-fulfillments or to
explain the mysteries of the natural world these theologians have
responded in a variety of ways which reflect several points of view;
two main streams, however, can be discerned. On the one hand, the
cry of God's death, first shouted by Nietzsche in Thus Spake
Zarathustra, has echoed in some writings. William Hamilton summarizes this approach when he states: "the death of God must be
affirmed; the confidence with which we thought we could speak of
God is gone, and our faith, belief, and experience of Him are very
poor things indeed." 10 An attempt is made, on the other hand, to
10
William Hamilton, "The Death of God Theologies Today," Radical
Theology and the Death of God, Hamilton and Thomas Altizer (New York,
1966), p. 41.
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speak of God today in a non-religious way by focusing on the trait
of secularism characteristic of contemporary society. Harvey Cox is
typical of this treatment when he characterizes today's world as the
secular city which is the emergent kingdom of God and states that
man's task is to make Christianity something which works in the
world.
Both of these streams of thought contribute material relevant to
the concerns of this paper. First of all, man's capabilities and autonomy are given recognition on grounds that cannot be rejected.
Secondly, the person of Jesus Christ is given a rene,Ycd centrality
in the contemporary thoughts of religion. The role of revelation,
finally, in man's life is highlighted in a meaningful way. When all
these patterns are woven together a design of man's life resultsone which is fruitful, relevant, and authentic to his everyday existence. -According to this design God has revealed himself in Jesus
of Nazareth. This Christ is the perfect man, like to us in all things
save sin. This Jesus had one predominant characteristic which is
set before all men as the ideal to be attained: the service of
others. In imitating those actions of service which Christ has revealed as man's way of being related to the divine, contemporary
man waters the seeds of the divine which exist in his nature because
of God's revelation of his word in the human form of Christ. Furthermore, by so serving his neighbor; man accepts God's continual
-revelation of himself in man and gives reality to a theoretical Godman relationship grounded in a valid theological foundation.
Conclusions
In view of these considerations of the family model and of recent
theological developments a theoretical solution to the question "in
what terms should the Jesuit community be conceived?" is possible.
Such a community must be a place where the ideal of Christ's
service to others can be realized. The primary function ·of each
member will be to help the others with whom he is associated and,
in turn, be helped by him. As this is done force is gathered so that
the individual Jesuit can extend his service to his neighbor living
outside the community. Such a situation is not incompatible with
the family image that has become associated with it-at least
understood in its modern characteristics. One characteristic predominant in the ideal family model of contemporary society, mu-
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tuality, directly complements the scheme of man's relationship with
God set forth above. Basically mutuality means that the members
of the family function for the benefit of the other members. It involves a certain amount of give-and-take; it involves creating the
possibilities for enabling each person to fulfill his own unique
identity and to help the others fulfill theirs. Dr. Martin Goldberg
gives a clearer idea of the meaning of mutuality when he describes
the emotional functions of the family as: somehow meeting the
needs of each individual member for love and/ or intimacy; providing the opportunity for the opposite quality of privacy; helping
each member to achieve a solid, satisfying sense of identity; and
helping each other to find a meaning in life.U
Exactly how this community is to be realized and function in the
concrete is a problem beyond the scope of this paper. The concern
here has been to show how and why the family notion in such a
community is an impossible way of thinking-at least as long as it
shows remnants of an earlier family model. Furthermore, the
groundwork has been laid for a possible replacement to this type
of approach in the Society. Although refinements are necessary,
which undoubtedly will take surprising and unexpected forms, a
community of members living in service for others nonetheless appears to be a fruitful avenue to follow. Not only does such an approach capture the spirit of the second rule in the Summary of
The Constitutions of the Society of Jesus; it is also good psychology and good theology.
11
Martin Goldberg, M.D., "The Dynamics of the Family Unit," Family,
Church, and Community, edited by Angelo D'Agostino, S.}., M.D. (New
York, 1965), pp. 67-80.
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�THE PLACE OF COMMUNITY IN JESUIT LIFE
WILLIAM W. MEISSNER,
S.J.
community life
is a skill
I A~i' PRO~IPTED by some of the ongoing experiments in community
living to bring together some random thoughts and reflections on
the impact and implications of community in the lives of Jesuits.
The 31st General Congregation placed a new emphasis on the importance of community life for the stability of the religious life of
the vows. In the decree on "Community Life and Religious Discipline" the Congregation made the following statement:
-
\Vhen community flourishes, the whole religious life is sound. Obedience,
for instance, is a very clear expression of our cooperation toward common ends,
and it becomes more perfect to the extent that superiors and subjects are bound
to one another in trust and service. Chastity is more safely preserved, "when
there is a true brotherly love in community life between the members." Poverty, finally, means that we have made ourselves poor by surrendering ourselves
and our possessions to follow the Lord. Community life aids and assists us in
this surrender in a great variety ·~f ways, and in its own unique way is the
support of poverty. \Vhen the religious life is thus strengthened, unity and
flexibility, universality, full personal dedication, and the freedom of the Gospels,
are also strengthened for the assistance of souls in every way. And this was the
intention of the first companions. 1
Moreover, there is in the experience of individual Jesuits an abundance of evidence which bears out the importance of community
life for the individual. I would like to discuss some of the aspects
of community life which seem to me to have some importance for
the individual members participating in it.
1
Documents of the 31st General Congregation, Decree 19, No. 4.
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Formative aspects of community
Participation in community life, especially the community life of
the Society is not a natural gift. It is a skill, a learned capacity.
The novice brings with him, when he enters the Society, a certain
set of skills in community living which he has acquired and developed in the context of the microcommunity of the family. He has
learned there the rudiments of obedience, interaction with authority
figures, participation in shared activities and cooperative effort for
the attainment of group goals. The experience of his school years
and the adjustments of adolescence all contribute to an enlargement and amplification of these basic skills by which an individual
interacts with and participates in a group.
Consequently, the novice initiates his experience in the life of the
religious community with a certain backlog of experience and with
a set of relatively well evolved mechanisms by which he can cope
with the demands of living in the novitiate community. The possession of these skills and experiences is both an asset and a liability. They arc assets in so far as they promote or enable the process
of coping and adjusting. The mechanisms arc necessary and adaptive since without them adjustment to the demands of community
life would not be possible. But they can be and usually are liabilities
as well. They are liabilities in so far as they must be modified in
their very use or they become maladaptive. In a sense this is in
some measure true of all major human adaptations. The mechanisms and skills learned in some other adaptive context are the
ones which are available to the person as he enters the new context.
The persistence in the use of previously acquired adaptive capacities in a context in which they are no longer suitable becomes inappropriate. The capacities learned in the interactions of the family
and with his peers can carry the novice along the first steps of his
participation in the life of the community. But he cannot rely on
those skills and must modify them and acquire new ones in his
interaction with the community.
The necessary adaptive skills are not transmissible by any mode
of formal instruction. What needs to be learned is not easily formulated in a set of propositions. It is woven out of the fabric of
human interaction. The novice must learn by an ongoing interaction
with the community and the community must teach through its
continuous presence to the novice. The community shares what is
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
uniquely its own with its newly adapting member. It exerts itself
to modify that member in the direction of becoming a participating
part of the community. The community communicates its values,
ideals, attitudes, beliefs, customs, and whatever else is constitutive
of itself as a viable community. In so doing, it exerts a subtle but
nonetheless de£nite pressure on the novice. He is forced to come to
some compromise with the pressures of the community. His membership is a function of his adaptability in that membership is de£ned in fact by the degree to which the individual accepts and
internalizes the implicit standards and characteristic values of the
community.
Thus the £rst importance of community in Jesuit life is that it
serves a formative function. That formative function is all the more
signi£cant in that those who subject themselves to it are by and
large in that developmental phase of the life cycle called late adolescence. In that period of personality formation there is a more or
less de£nitive crystallization of value-orientations, the basic con£guration of adult. character structure is being constructed, the
personality is forming itself in the mature and adult modality. That
time of life is a sort of second chance to redeem the mishaps of
early deprivations or developmental de£cits. Its signi£cance for the
emergence of adult character cannot be overemphasized. The impact of the community pressures are of major signi£cance, therefore, and it is well to remind ourselves of the fact that the community as such is one of the major vital influences in fostering or
impeding the growth to maturity of young religious.
One of the persistent and. chronic problems in the Society and
more generally in religious life is the kind of cultural discontinuity
that exists between the formative phase of community life, which
obtains in the novitiate setting spcci£cally and more generally in
the houses of formation, and the post-formation phase of community
life which obtains after the formal training is completed. It is as
though the novices were cultivated in relation to an ideal of com·
munity life which persists only in houses of training. The formative
influence is exercised in isolation from the demands of community
life as it obtains in the active apostolic communities. I have no wish
to debate the relative merits of novitiate versus apostolic forms of
community life; I wish only to note the discontinuity that presents
. itself and comment briefly on its implications.
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COMMUNITY
The disruptive influence of such cultural discontinuities was
originally noted by Ruth Benedict. The adaptive style formed in
a life context are confronted by the demands of a new role and
function forced on the individual by the inexorable processes of
maturation and development. The old mechanisms of adaptation do
not answer to the new demands and the result is told in terms of
anxiety, conflict of values, ambivalence toward authority, etc. The
style of interaction with the community which is developed in the
early formative years may have little relevance to the style of interaction which emerges in more mature years. The point I wish to
emphasize, however, is that it is the community which places the
demand on the individual to adapt and which dictates the interactive context in terms of which he must adapt. Thus it is not individuals who create the discontinuities, but the divergent quality
and structure of community styles.
Identification
The basic mechanism by which the interrelation of individual
and community is achieved is that of identification. The mechanism
is complex and a full discussion of its psychodynamics is beyond
the scope of the present essay. Suffice it to say that identification is
a largely unconscious process by which the individual internalizes
the value-system of the community and in the process evolves a
sense of his own identity as a functioning and participating member
of the community. The internalization of community values in the
Society has to do with values held at large within the Society as a
whole and the Church as a larger context, as well as values at the
level of the particular community in which the individual lives.
The degree of overlap in shared values from community to community within the Society facilitates the process of adapting when
moving from place to place, but existential value-system is always
unique to the community.
Moreover, the community recognizes an individual as a member
when it recognizes the mark of itself in him. Psychologically speaking, becoming a member of a community does not take place when
the individual's name is added to the list of community members.
Becoming a member can often be a rather drawn-out process in
Which the individual gradually assimilates the values of the community and the community gradually comes to recognize in him
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the pattern of its own value-orientation. The process takes time,
more for some than for others. Some individuals may never become
members of the community in this sense. The new participant in
community life gains a sense of evolving membership as he comes
to be regarded by other community members as a functional part
of their shared life and experience. His recognition as member by
others is complemented by his own growing sense of sharing in
community values, goals, and attitudes-his own sense of identification with the community and with the other persons who compose it.
The shared sense of identity as members of the community is the
psychological substructure on which the sense of community is
raised. This is a truism in any real community structure; it is more
thau kpplicable in the Society. One can go further and say that the
sense of community is a vital aspect of the inner life of every Jesuit.
If an individual cannot achieve a sense of shared values, meanings
and activity, he must preserve some sense of participation in the
larger structure of the Society or the psychological forces at work
to preserve the integrity of the community will inexorably drive
him out of the organization. The sense of shared values and purposes is so central to the notion of the religious vocation that perserverance in the face of their absence becomes difficult. From the
point of view of the individual, the failure to develop a sense of
community has fairly dire implications. Human beings require a
sense of purposefulness and meaning in their lives without which
they become prey to frustration, ambivalence about their life situation, depression, diminished Self-esteem, and a sense of unfulfillment. If an individual is c;ught up in the life of a community
without a sense of sharing in the values and purposes of the community, he is in a psychologically untenable position. The dissonance between inner feelings and outer involvements will resolve
itself by either changing the inner feelings or by the individual
removing himself from the situation.
I would like to emphasize the more or less implicit and unconscious nature of identification. One does not identify oneself with a
group; one becomes identified. Just as one does not identify oneself
\vith one's parents; one becomes identified with them. In identification with the religious community, there are unquestionably con·scious processes \vhich enter in and facilitate or hinder the process.
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But conscious acknowledgement and acceptance of values and purposes does not yet constitute identification. At the same time, it
would be difficult to fathom identification in the face of rejection
of values and purposes. They tend more or less to reinforce each
other. But one can also acknowledge and accept values and purposes without really becoming identified with the group holding
them. They must become internalized; they must become a part of
one's own inner structure; they must become one's own before we
can speak meaningfully of identification.
The significance of the mechanism of identification, as I see it,
is that it establishes a link between the inner psychic life of the
individual member and the life of the community which he shares
with others. These are not completely independent and unrelated
streams. They feed each other, they interact with each other in
complex and important ways. This is particularly relevant in the
religious life where so much of the personal, non-job-oriented involvement of the individual is caught up in the community interaction. Similar processes are at work in the family involvements of
laymen and in this regard the community is a form of substitute
for the family. One must be cautious of the family analogy precisely
because it has traditionally been so abused. Clearly the family
serves other functions than the religious community, but they both
share the dimensions of life in a group, and provide the basic
matrix for personal interaction, mutual support, intimacy, and the
sense of belonging. As someone once said, home is where they can't
throw you out when you come back to it.
The important point, however, is that the community through
identification becomes relevant to the inner psychic functioning
and processes of the individual. It provides the basic matrix for his
emotional and personal sharing and communication with others.
The individual religious may be able to complement or compensate
for the quality of his relations within the community by friendships
and involvements outside the community. But they do not provide
the context for basic identifications as the community does. To use
Turner's distinction, they may serve as interaction groups, but they
do not serve as the basic group with which the individual identifies.
[See my discussion in Group Dynamics in the Religious Life. Notre
Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1965.]
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Diversification of roles
~
One of the functions of the group process in the structure of community is to achieve a diversification in role-functions of the members. In so far as the community is formed and maintained out of
the complex interaction of roles, role-functions and role-expectations, the mechanisms which integrate the inner life of the community are constantly at work to bring each individual member into a
specific set of roles and functions which more or less characterize
his position within the community. Thus the group evolves over
time a set of expectations of each member. The member's participation in the group is predicated in terms of these implicit expectations and conversely his own expectations of his role and function
in the, community tend to mirror these expectations. The group, on
the one hand, defines the status of each member, and the member,
on th~ other, responds by fulfilling the demands of that status in
the group.
The structure of the community, then, is a major determining
factor in the manner in which roles become diversified in the community. A more repressive and organized structure tends to modify
the tendency toward diversification in the direction of more narrow
range of diversified roles. The more liberal and unstructured form
of community organization gives the tendency to diversification
greater play and allows a greater range of functional roles to
emerge. This set of relationships also reflects more complex factors
at work in community life. Role conformity, as a situation in which
the diversity of role styles tends to cluster around a central more
or less idealized style, reflects' a more rigid community structure,
authoritarian organization, bureaucratic modes of functioning which
operate in terms of the communality of role capabilities and the
relative interchangeability of members, and a relative subordination
of individual members to the requirements of order. The kind of
community structure which reinforces role conformity tends to find
itself more congenially realized in larger communities. The mere
force of numbers tends to bring about an organization of community elements which emphasizes conformity, ritualization of function and administrative efficiency, while it tends to minimize individuality, initiative and idiosyncrasy.
It should be noted that for the most part the houses of training
in the Society have been large. Novices, juniors, philosophers and
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theologians are trained in large communities. The economic advantages of this arrangement are obvious, but the impact on many
aspects of personality and motivation may be less obvious. It is in
this climate that attitudes and fundamental dispositions to authority
and obedience are formed. It is to be wondered whether the fundamental models of community life which are proposed and to some
extent internalized in the formative communities are relevant to or
consistent with the patterns of community life which are evolving
outside the houses of study.
If one reflects for a moment on the exigencies of novitiate formation, the engendering of some central core of shared meanings and
values seems to be a matter of considerable significance. Members
of the Society share with one another a community of values and
ideals which is only partially enshrined in the Constitutions
and Rules. The shared value system is what uniquely constitutes and
characterizes the group. The individuals become members in so far
as they internalize those values and become identified with the
group. There is, therefore, a need for common indoctrination and
a sharing of formative experiences. In a way, the traditional apparatus has been rather successful in achieving these objectives. In
another way, it has perpetrated too much of a good thing. It has
gone beyond identification and the sharing of values to a reinforcement of conformity and passivity. The times are changing and the
forces have been set loose to correct these excesses. But the task for
the community remains the delicate one of fostering the basic
mechanisms of identification while giving play to the basic forces
towards diversification of role within itself. This remains a formative concern certainly, but in a more persistent manner continues
to be an ongoing concern in the post-formative years. It is perhaps
fair to say that life in community is always formative and that
members of communities are always in the way of being formed by
their communities. But formation is also most profoundly affected
in its initial stages. So that the concerns of the interplay of identification and diversification are at their most poignant at this stage of
the game. Large novitiates, therefore, can be seen as reinforcing
identification at the cost of diversification-and perhaps rightly.
It may not be altogether out of order to suggest that some greater
service to diversification might be made even at the novitiate level.
It might be possible that the novitiate program be modified to allow
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the full canonical year with the novices together in a single community. Their program might emphasize the ideals of the Society,
spiritual formation, instruction in prayer, and other essential indoctrinations. The second year might permit distribution of the
novices to the various houses of the Society where they could participate according to their skills in the ongoing work of institutions
and individual Jesuits. They could continue in more intensive
spiritual direction emphasizing the problems of integrating what
they have learned about contemporary life in the Society with the
ideals, values, and purposes of their vocations to the Society.
Support
A major function of the religious community is the support that
it pr'ovides for its members. It is often quite difficult to specify the
ways· in which the community offers its support. I feel that it is
one of the primary derivatives of the basic identification between
individual and group which "·e have already considered. The individual's sense of identification with the group enables him to see
the goals and functions of the group as in some sense relevant to
himself. By identification the group vicissitudes become personalized. The other side of the identification coin, however, is the sense
of alliance of the group with the individual. The group becomes
reciprocally identified with its identified members and this recip- rocal position creates a sense of involvement and commitment of
the group to the individual. The sense of alliance is fundamentally
a group phenomenon and obtains as supplemental to the more
direct and immediate identifications which arise between individual
members.
Support is an effect of community integration on the level of
emotional processes which reflect the inner and often unconscious
dimensions of the group life [See chapter on "The Group Process"
in ~leissncr, op. cit.]. The notion of "support" has some current uses
in psychology, particularly in the context of psychotherapy. Supportive therapies arc generally those which direct their efforts
toward diminishing the patient's anxiety. But the term has much
more general application. Support from fellow human beings is an
essential aspect of normal human interaction and social participation. It is an ongoing aspect of all manner of community organiza. tions. Support in all of these settings has the function of alleviating
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anxiety, enhancing self-esteem, and providing the intangibles of acceptance and a sense of belonging. This is the kind of support that
a family offers its members, a corporation offers its workers, a therapeutic community offers its patients, or a religious community offers
its members. It involves an affirmation from the community of
shared values and beliefs which are held in common by the individual and the group and thereby reaffirms and reinforces the inner
values of the individual and lends them the shared security of group
conviction. Support in all these cases and more is analogous, expressing itself in a variety of ways and degrees. In each instance,
however, the community communicates something basic and essential to the individual without which his participation in the life of
the community is difficult and to some extent deprived of meaning.
It is fairly obvious that structure of a community more or less
determines the supportive style of the community. \Vhere the community structure tends to be more bureaucratic and authoritarian,
support tends to be more formalized and less personalized. The role
of the individual in such a structure tends to become ritualized
and less idiosyncratic. Similarly the support \vhich the group offers
the individual is less in terms of his individuality than in terms of
his membership. \Vhere the structure of the community tends to
be less bureaucratic and more democratic, support tends to become
more informal and certainly more personalized. The community
alliance with the individual is much more individual and personal.
In very large communities, bureaucratic structure tends to be the
rule with a resulting impoverishment of support or with a style of
support which does not meet the personal needs of many of its
members. Often a subgrouping within the larger community compensates for this deficiency and forms a subcommunity which then
offers a more personal and meaningful kind of support. There is
no necessary connection between size and bureaucratic organization but there is a more or less general law of organization by which
community size and bureaucratic organization tends to be related.
More important is the value system that obtains within the community. The crucial dimension, it seems to me, is the extent to which
individual prerogatives, personal dignity, personal responsibility,
personal freedom and initiative are valued and are vital parts of
the community value system. \Vhere such values are operative in
the community, regardless of size, there is a much more explicit
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sensitivity to individual needs and anxieties which sets the stage for
community response to such personal needs in the form of emotional support. \Vhere community prerogatives, community goals
and objectives, submission of the individual to community needs,
obedience and conformity are the predominant values, individual
needs and anxieties are diminished in the impact that they make on
community processes and emotional support becomes more remote.
Jesuit life almost necessarily must find its support within the religious community. The normal layman finds his emotional support
in his family. The religious person deliberately declines this source
of emotional support. He can find other tangential sources of support, but if he does not find it in the primary locus of his most basic
identification somet.~ing would be psychologically at least out of
whack.
Intimacy
The community is also the situation in which Jesuit life obtains
its measure of intimacy. Intimacy is a profoundly important psychological notion. Erikson defines it as an individual's "capacity to
commit himself to concrete affiliations and partnerships and to develop the ethical strength to abide by such commitments, even
though they may call for significant sacrifices and compromises." 2
Intimacy is more specifically interpersonal intimacy which is reflected in warmth, acceptance, friendship, love, mutual trust and
dependence (in a healthy sense). Where intimacy is not attained,
the result is spelled out in terms of isolation, alienation, personal
relations which at best can achieve only a sort of stereotyped and
formal quality. They never ~ttain that spontaneity, warmth and
mutual responsiveness which enriches those who share in them.
Intimacy both requires a developed sense of personal integrity
and identity and affects them. One cannot enter into warm and
meaningful relations with other human beings unless there is a
profound sense of one's own trustworthiness and autonomy. One
must carry a sense of one's own integrity as a person in order to
engage that sense of self in a truly intimate relationship. If that
inner sense of self is not firmly fixed, the closeness of relation to
other persons blurs the boundaries which delimit the self and close2 E. H. Erikson, Childhood and Society, 2nd edition (New York, 1963),
·p. 263.
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ness can become threatening. Persons who lack the security of inner
selfhood sometimes react to the threat of interpersonal contact with
a tenseness and anxiety, a reserve of inner commitment which serves
to maintain a certain "safe" distance between themselves and the
other. Thus the capacity for intimacy is an intrapsychic and developmental quality of the personality. To reach out to the other, to
be meaningfully related and involved with the other, is a natural
human urge. Closeness and mutuality of human relationships, moreover, is the human way of working one's way to increasing levels
of personal maturity. In the closeness of truly intimate relationships
one becomes more truly oneself.
In the normal course of things, the relationship within which the
problems of intimacy are worked out is that between man and
woman as husband and wife. It should be obvious that the question
of intimacy is not the same as the question of sexual intimacy.
Husband and wife might enjoy the latter freely without ever attaining the former. In the marriage relationship, however, they arc
complexly related. For the religious the problem of intimacy persists for it is a human problem. But the religious has elected to set
aside the opportunity for attaining intimacy in the usual ways. He
must seek intimacy elsewhere. He must look to the community as
the place and the situation within which his fundamental need and
capacity for self-communication may seek fulfillment. The psychological language of intimacy can easily be translated into the language of fraternal love and charity, but I think it loses some of its
specificity in translation. Intimacy within the community is by no
means an automatic thing. It is refreshing to read the accounts of
the relationships of the first companions of Ignatius, simply because
one senses the degree of intimacy that they shared with one another.
Intimacy within the community must build on a foundation of
prior identification with the group and of members of the group
with each other. It relies on a rather significant degree of commitment of members to each other and a degree of mutual involvement
and concern. Many religious communities have, as the sociologists
say, a primary organization in the sense that the relations within
them are of a more or less face-to-face character. The size and
structure of communities, however, can minimize the primary group
structure and introduce a more secondary style. Unquestionably this
is a large area to consider within the scope of this essay since the
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problems of achieving intimacy in communities have often deep
psychological roots. I would like to make the point though that
while intimacy for Jesuit life is not found exclusively in the community, it is found primarily in the community. It is the place. where
he is able to share with others his inner anxieties, concerns, ambitions, hopes, projects, in a word himself.
Relation to institutions
One of the overriding characteristics of Jesuit community life in
this country is its affiliation to institutions. The community is organized around some sort of institutional function. Most typically
our institutions are educational, both on the secondary and the
college, and university level. This circumstance has a profound
impacf on the structure of community life. Historically the organization of such communities has moved in the direction of large numbers living together in a single faculty residence. The community
in our school tends therefore to be large in size and to be dominated
by the work interests of the educational institution. The community
is organized in highly specific ways as are dictated by task-oriented
goals of the community.
The community in this setting tended to be more or less bureaucratic and authoritarian. This was all the more evident where the
_authority in the religious community was synonymous with the
authority in the institution. There had to be a chronic tension between the demands of the group as a religious community and the
demands of the community as a group of professional workers in
an educational institution. SuQ,eriors and subjects were involved in
an organizational duality and ambiguity with its resultant tensions
and anxieties. The task-oriented and functional demands of the institution had to be brought into some sort of uneasy compromise
with the more emotion-oriented and personal demands of the community. The balance of this compromise has been more or less on
the side of institutional demands and requirements to which the
community was more or less forced to adapt.
Much of this overall structure is changing these days. The institutions are being little by little turned over to lay direction so that
the community is becoming increasingly disengaged from the organization of the institution and is achieving a certain autonomy of
its own. Increasing attention is being paid to more individual apos108
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tolates wherein individual Jesuits or small groups of Jesuits would
be able to teach and carry on apostolic work on secular campuses.
The momentum for education of graduate students in secular universities has moved us in the direction of permitting small communities of students to be set up in houses and apartments outside the
houses of the Society. These changes show every sign of continuing
so that we must perceive them not merely as temporary expedients
but as more or less perduring features of community life in the
Society.
Along with this pattern of change in community size and organization, we must be aware of certain important concomitants. The
diversification of community life tends to undercut more authoritarian styles of organization. The particular circumstances of community life are multiplied so that increasing reliance must be placed
on individual judgment and responsibility. The cohesive influence
of the commitment to an institution and its works is diminishing.
It must be reckoned that this gradual process of disengagement
from large institutions will have far-reaching effects on the inner
life of the Jesuit community which will call for important adaptations all along the line.
Trend to individualism
One of the important offshoots of these developments is the
emergence of the importance of the individual. It is perhaps inaccurate to speak of the trends to individualism as an offshoot since
the trend is a much more general cultural phenomenon. There is a
concern and insistence on individual rights and freedoms which is
a quite apparent and powerful force in contemporary society. Its
impact stretches from the Supreme Court to the streets. It is not
without important influence on the religious community. There was
a time when the vow of obedience dictated unquestioning submission to the will of the superior as to the will of God. That dictation
is now in question and the view of religious authority and obedience in the face of that questioning is evolving toward a more
balanced appraisal in which individual freedom, initiative and responsibility are given important emphasis.
The trend has important implications for the community. The
emphasis on the individual tends to place the community and its
demands in a somewhat different light. There is a shift from a
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context in which the community and its task-oriented goals were a
dominating concern, particularly in relation to institutional involvements as we have seen, to a more complex context in which taskorientation is diversified (less institutionally committed) and individual needs and concerns are more prominent. TI1e mode of discourse is shifting from that of question-and-ans,yer to that of
dialogue. The tasks are less clearly defined and the cohesive and
organizing potential of a unified and clear-cut community goal is
lacking.
Increasingly, therefore, the Jesuit community will come to function more in terms of inner emotional orientations and less in terms
of external goal-orientations. \Vhereas the community tasks provided ·major stimulus to community cohesiveness, that influence is
dimini:;hing and the forces of cohesion will have to derive from
more basic and less conscious emotional sources. The community
will have to become increasingly sensitive to and attentive to its
functions as supportive and emotionally sustaining resource for its
members. The large scale involvement in institutions puts the emphasis on task-orientation and thereby provides a means by which
community cohesion can be attained without more emotional kinds
of involvement. Not that the level of emotional involvement is ever
absent, but is the highly structured and task-oriented community
- it can be muted and its importance overlooked. In so far as the
task-orientation has become diversified and modified, cohesion
must increasingly be accomplished through satisfaction of emotional
needs of the members of the community. Otherwise the community
ceases to be a community ancl.·becomes an aggregate of individuals
living together as a matter of c~nvenience.
Thus the trend to individualism, it seems to me, has at least two
faces. It involves an increase and an evolution in attitudes toward
the individual which increasingly recognizes his individual autonomy, dignity, responsibility, initiative and capacity. The individual,
therefore, enjoys the opportunity to exercise that responsibility and
initiative in ever broader and more meaningful ways. The gain in
this in terms of personal development, maturity and self-realization
ought to be considerable. The other side of the coin, however, is
that the individual accepts by reason of his religious commitment
the responsibility of deeper involvement in the life of his commu110
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nity. I am addressing myself specifically to a deeper involvement
in the life of the community. I am addressing myself specifically to
a deeper involvement in the emotional life of his community. The
trend to individualism becomes divisive and destructive if it is not
balanced with a commensurate increase in mutuality, mutual support and intimacy.
I would like to add a final \vord about the matter of community
size since the number of persons in a community has become a significant variable recently. The Santa Clara conference made the
recommendation that small community groupings be organized for
the purposes of providing opportunity for freer and more intimate
liturgical functions, increased sensitivity to the personal growth of
each member and a more visible sign of poverty. It is my feeling
that the small community (a number of such experiments are being
organized) carries with it a number of advantages. It intensifies
the primary quality of interpersonal relations, it maximizes the
personal involvement, it may serve to increase the elements of support and intimacy and it places greater reliance on individuals. The
small community of half a dozen men brings individuals into much
closer contact. That tends to emphasize the emotional interaction
among them and such interaction can be for good or ill. It increases
the opportunities for real intimacy and at the same time it increases
the opportunities for abrasive interaction. The quality of interaction
becomes very much a product of the personalities involved. It must
be recognized that there are some very good religious who find
themselves at ease in the relative distance which is permitted in a
large community but who would become increasingly anxious in
the warmer context of interpersonal closeness.
Further, authoritarian organization is practically impossible in a
small community. The attempts of other religious groups to maintain such structure in small communities is rather unrealistic, whatever one might feel about it as an ideal. Consequently, the distance
between the individual and his effective superior is increased rather
than shortened. The individual becomes largely responsible for
himself. It is also true, I think, that the community becomes more
responsible for him in the sense that the community is much more
closely involved in his life and activity. There is a new balance of
interaction between individual and his community which obtains in
virtue of something other than a structure of relations between subIll
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
ject and superior. The pattern of relations between subject and
community become much more vital and much more meaningful.
Another important and practical aspect of the diversification of
community size and style is the impact on the community at large.
\Vhat social meaning does such a variety of smaller communities
acquire for the surrounding lay community? How will people perceive a small group of religious men living together, particularly
when the tendency is also operative to restrict the wearing of distinctive garb? In the dissolution of institutional communities and
the gradual loosening of ties to educational institutions, what effect
will be felt on religious vocations?
I hasten to add that I have no good way of :k11owing how the
exper~ments in small community living are going to work out. I
suspect that the outcomes will be rather variable and will assume
some ..proportion to the personal characteristics of participants and
their respective dedication to the principle of small groups and their
concomitants. The point that I wish to urge at the moment is that
a variety of influences are at work in the contemporary scene which
radically alter not merely the size and location of Jesuit communities. The changes are considerably more radical than that. They
ultimately touch very fundamental issues of community life, community structure, the sense of identification with and involvement
_ in the Society, the structure of authority, the attitudes toward and
meaning of obedience, increasing personal responsibility and autonomy, even the issue of religious poverty. It should be obvious
that increasing personal responsibility creates a situation in which
individuals are much more in control of the management of personal
finances. This must raise or atleast intensify certain questions about
the vows of poverty. The small community circumvents the appearance of affluence created by large and impressive community structures but it also diminishes the degree of dependence in poverty.
My only observation is that in undertaking such experiments in
community we must both be aware of the implications and consequences of such attempts and be ready and willing to modify traditional concepts and structures to meet the exigencies created by
these experiments. \Vithout that willingness to adapt, we are either
condemning the experiments to failure before the event or we are
asking for new tensions and anxieties which may pose a new threat
·to the heart of the Jesuit vocation.
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�A REPORT ON THE PROBLEM OF THE
DISAFFECTION OF YOUNG JESUITS FOR OUR
CURRENT EDUCATIONAL APOSTOLATE
The JEA Coordinating Committee Meeting in Washington on April
15-16, 1967, passed the following resolution:
It was moved, seconded and passed unanimously that Fr. Montague, Chairman of the Commission on Houses of Study, promptly appoint a Committee to
work on the problem of effectively presenting to young Jesuits the values of
our institutional apostolate in education.
In acting on this motion, Fr. Klubertanz, Chairman of the Committee
on the Regional Order of Studies, was asked to allow the seven members
of this committee to serve as an ad hoc committee to discuss and suggest
proposals on this problem of our younger Jesuits and the educational
apostolate.
The reasons for appointing this group:
1) The seven members of this Committee were selected by all the
members of the Commission on Houses of Study, and so should
adequately represent the entire Commission.
2) The composition of this Committee was sufficiently heterogeneous: two men from the schools of theology, two men from
the schools of philosophy, two men from the juniorates, plus the
chairman. Further investigation could well be done by a committee with members from the other Commissions.
3) This Committee from widely scattered institutions was already
scheduled to meet at North Aurora on June 23-24. This would
obviate the expense and difficulties in forming still another
committee at this time.
This topic was also discussed with the elected scholastic representatives at the Santa Clara Conference on the Total Development of the
Jesuit Priest. These discussions are summarized in the following pages
under three headings:
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I Location of the Problem.
II Reasons for this Disaffection.
III Proposals and Suggestions.
I LOCATION OF THE PROBLEM. The report on this part of the
discussion can be brief; the Minutes of the JEA Coordinating Committee
for April 15-16, 1967, pages 12-13, and Fr. Reinert's preliminary and
confidential paper included in the same set of Minutes, pages 29-32,
present the general lines of the problem and were generally corroborated
in the discussion of this committee.
However, it was felt that the problem is not as acute as it was even
one or two years ago; or at least, it has shifted ground somewhat. \Vhere
earlier there seemed to be a rising dissatisfaction with the whole academic apostolate, it now seems that the disaffection is directed more at
our ow:g schools, not with education as a whole. Even here, some felt
that there was a selective opposition to some of our schools, not with all.
There is a real concern and desire for higher studies on the part of the
vast majority of the scholastics; most of these scholastics see themselves
working in and through various educational agencies and institutions.
II REASONS FOR THIS DISAFFECTION. Again, many of the
reasons brought out in the Minutes of the JEA Coordinating Committee,
referred to above, were reiterated in the discussion. Some were given a
new emphasis, and this leads us to mention these explicitly.
- A. The scholastics feel that the Society in America has a deep and
unquestionable commitment to certain immobile and fixed struc. tures. This conflicts with the scholastics' desire for mobility and
flexibility in a world and in a church in process. \Ve are overcommitted in the number of our schools in such a way that these
giant monsters eat up the individual Jesuits. With our limited
resources of money and man-power, most of these schools can
never rise above mediocrity. For a young Jesuit to commit himself
to these is a commitment to mediocrity on the institutional as well
as the individual level. .This attitude has been lessened recently
with the talk of giving up the actual ownership of our colleges and
universities.
B. The intellectual apostolate seems so long range and so far in the
future that it is never seen as an ultimate good. The actuality of
immediate work in the social apostolates during the course from
the novitiate on allows the men to experience values that leave our
educational apostolates more remote.
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C. The scholastics tend to feel that intellectual grounds and factors
do not ultimately make that much of a difference. The most pressing problems in the world and for the church are not ultimately
ideological problems that demand intellectual solutions, e.g., peace,
poverty, racial injustice, the division of the churches, etc.
D. The increasing contact of the Jesuit scholastics with the laystudents on Jesuit campuses tends to disillusion our young men
about the effectiveness of Jesuit education. The scholastics meet
a constant negative barrage from our lay students about our schools
and they talk with many of our lay students who have lost or are
losing their faith. Specifically Catholic education does not seem too
efficacious in making these laymen and laywomen dedicated
apostles.
E. The scholastics meet and talk with lay students who are not impressed by the image of the Jesuit priest on our college campuses.
The few priests who are obviously concerned about the students,
both outside and inside the classrooms, are the exceptions. The
majority live in a separated faculty building, do their work in the
privacy of their own living rooms, teach their classes and then
disappear again. The scholastics hear this from the lay students
and also observe the almost negligible impact of the majority of
Jesuit priests on the students in our universities.
F. Still a further factor that increases this disaffection of our scholastics with our educational apostolate is what they see to be the
rapid secularization of our colleges and universities. It is not that
the scholastics would necessarily oppose this, but it then becomes
difficult for them to see any ultimate distinction between a Jesuit
or Catholic university and a secular university, and consequently
any ultimate reason why they would prefer a Jesuit or Catholic
university as the locus of their own future apostolates.
G. With the division of the Jesuit community from the university
(and this split is foreseen as possible for the Jesuit community
and the high school as well), there is a tendency to stress the
efficacy of the apostolate of the individual. The Jesuit educator
of the future will be accepted or rejected by a school on his individual merits or deficiencies-not on his identification with some
corporate group, i.e., just because he is a Jesuit. If a Jesuit can be
accepted or rejected by a Jesuit school, the scholastic and young
priest see no reason why they should not also be in the position
of choosing or rejecting the Jesuit school along with sought-out
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opportunities for teaching in non-Jesuit and non-Catholic institutions. The Jesuits who are most admired by the scholastics are
often free-lancers who do much of their work independently of
Jesuit universities.
H. A major and permeating reason for the disaffection of our younger
men for our schools-and for our Society-is the denigrating influence on them of older men in the Society. To the scholastic so
many of our priests appear to be unhappy, unfulfilled, dissatisfied,
unproductive. They seem to be lonely, embittered, frustrated, sour
men. Scholastics looking at Fr. X, Y, and Z, don't want to turn out
to be like Fr. X, Y, and Z--and yet they feel there is no guarantee
that they won't tum out to be pretty much the same. Too many
of the older fathers give the impression that they don't like the
:;oung scholastics, they don't want them around, they disapprove
nf their "crazy new notions." They talk as if the scholastics were
destroying everything the older Jesuits have lived for. The failure
of many older Jesuits to go along with Vatican II, liturgical
changes, Bible vigils, concelebrations, changes in religious garb,
their open criticism of bishops who do introduce modifications
and changes; their open and blistering criticism of scholasticates
and the scholasticate superiors who are turning out this new breed
of irresponsible scholastics, all have their deleterious effect on
younger Jesuits.
I. The scholastics tend to think that the schools don't particularly
want or need them. The high schools and colleges show no interest
in them at all until they are actually assigned to the institution.
Too typical would be the quoted remark of an official in one of
our schools: "\Ve have to plan for our school as if the scholastics
and young priests did not ~-xist; we can never be sure how many,
if any, will be assigned to us on the next status. So we plan as if
we would get no one."
III PROPOSALS AND SUGGESTIONS. The group did not have sufficient opportunity to reflect on and discuss the possible solutions to this
problem of the disaffection of our scholastics toward the educational
apostolate. Consequently, the actual proposals and suggestions mentioned
here were limited; further considerations might add or modify the items
listed here. Rather than expand these recommendations-almost all of
which call for further discussion-! shall be content to list them under
c:rtain general rubrics to which they seem more pertinent.
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A. Santa Clara Conference on the Total Development of the Jesuit
Priest. It was hoped that this conference would take a stand on
the question of our educational apostolates, not only regarding
scholastics, but also for priests. It was thought that, at least implicit in the various background, presentation, and consensus
papers, some new and viable ways of confronting and meeting
this problem of disaffection might emerge.
B. What provincials might do:
1) The provincials should "shake up our schools." (This is admittedly ambiguous-but I suspect that what is meant here is
that the provincials should rouse the schools themselves from
their educational slumber and their ordinary ways of doing
things that mark them as just another ordinary school in the
city. Jesuit schools should be doing things that other schools
cannot do and yet that are needed in our time and world.)
2) Close some of our schools in order to tighten up and improve
those that remain.
3) Encourage inter-provincial cooperation in practice as well as
in theory, so that new outlets will be offered to our men so
they will not be forced to work into too narrow educational
horizons.
4) Retire from teaching-though not necessarily from all ap8stolic
work-those priests who are clearly unfit for the educational
apostolate and therefore find it a continuing source of frustration and embitterment.
5) Instruct the older men about their apostolate toward the
younger men in a school, i.e., help them realize that their
attitudes definitely affect the younger men and make it more
difficult in many cases for them to be the dedicated Jesuit
teachers they want to be.
6) Our men should be assigned to a college or high school from
their first-year of theology (or at least as soon as possible)
and for their regency even from first-year philosophy. This
would help our scholastics identify with our schools.
7) Have our men assigned to teach in the areas of their specialization and let them be assured of this well in advance. Cf.
Santa Clara Conference.
8) Assign not just one man or another individually to a school
(high school or college), but a group of three or four who
think along the same line and could as a team effectively
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influence the school rather than be absorbed by it.
C. What the JEA might do:
1) Start a survey of opinion-perhaps in the pages of ]EQ-on
this issue, both regarding the depth aml seriousness of the
problem and possible remedies.
2) Have our scholasticates and the prefects of studies ask our
young men for their solutions to this problem.
3) Distribute the results of this meeting and discussion on the
causes and possible solutions of the difficulty of scholastic
disaffection for the educational apostolate-to president, rectors, principals, ministers, etc.
D. \Vhat our schools might do:
l) Have community meetings within the school to discuss how
the high school and college can take positive steps to restore
cr strengthen group loyalty to the school-especially as the
religious community becomes more separate from the school
itself.
2) Have our schools more decisively promote the good (scholarship) of the individual Jesuit rather than ask him equivalently
to subordinate his scholarship and future to the institution.
Perhaps this is an overstatement, but some of our schools give
such an impression, not only to younger scholastics not currently on the faculty, but even to those Jesuits who are already teaching in the institution.
3) Insh·uct the older men about their apostolatc toward the
younger men in the Society (both those who are already teaching and those still in their studies)-i.e., their attitudes definitely affect the ycm1-ger men and make it more difficult for
them to be the dedicated Jesuit teachers they want to be.
4) A greater attempt on the part of the presidents and all Jesuits
in our colleges and high schools to sell the educational apostolate to younger Jesuits. This is to a large extent a question of
information and communication: e.g., what are the plans fer
the school over the next ten years (and also ask for ideas from
our younger men regarding these future plans), etc.
5) Have our schools actually interview our men for possible app~intments in the future in the various departments and
services of the university and/ or high schools.
C) Inv;le the scho'astics, especially the theologians, to become in-
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volved in some part-time teaching and counseling in our
schools (both colleges and high schools) during their time in
the divinity school.
7) Make use of our scholastics in giving group retreats to our
students.
8) Take positive-and even extraordinary-steps to make Jesuits
who are entering or visiting a school feel welcome and at home
there. Many scholastics mention that they are made to feel
anything but welcome in the dining rooms and recreation
rooms and corridors of our colleges and high schools.
E. What our scholasticates might do:
1) Present this problem of disaffection to the scholastics for an
open discussion and pass on their observations and solutions
to the provincials et al.
2) Invite officials and staff members of our schools to the scholasticates for lectures, informal discussions, etc.
3) Promote apostolic works among our scholastics that are in
some way connected with our schools, e.g., giving retreats,
teaching, etc.
4) Have the scholasticate professors also teach either concomitantly or full-time for a semester in one or other of our schools.
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ROBERT
D.
COURSEY,
S.J.
a critical look
THE Report on tlze Problem of the Disaffection of Young jesuits
for our Current Educational Apostolate1 offers little new in pointing up institutional shortcomings. Unlike many recent revie\vs of
the topic, 2 it does recommend a wide program of specific actions
to counteract disaffection. The Report, however, contains a number
of serious deficiencies, among them several unexamined presuppositions.
The first and most obvious assumption is that a problem exists.
Without providing any empirical evidence, the Report only suggests reasons why disaffection should exist. This method of attack
is reminiscent of several discussions at a recent province workshop
where the issue was: vVhy do the scholastics appreciate the liturgy,
while the fathers do not; and why don't the scholastics appreciate
prayer, while the fathers do? Much eloquence and emotion could
have been saved had a participant consulted the statistics. In response to the question, "How meaningful in your spiritual and religious life currently is the Mass?" 94% of the fathers answered
Washington, D.C.: JEA, 1967.
E. E. Grollmes, S.J., "Jesuit High Schools and the Younger Jesuits," ]EQ,
29 ( 1966), 41-8; W. J. O'Malley, S.J., "Staying Alive in High School," JEQ,
30 ( 1967), 41-63; J. W. Sanders, S.J., "The Jesuit University: Vestige of the
Past or Vanguard of the Future," ]EQ, 29 (1967 ), 149-154; A. ~1. Greeley,
"Th~ Problems of Jesuit Education in the United States," JEQ, 29 ( 1966),
102-120.
1
2
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I
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"very much so" or "quite a bit," while a somewhat smaller percentage of scholastics ( 87%) felt as strongly. On the other hand, only
39% of the fathers found meditation "very much," or "quite a bit,"
meaningful, while 57% of the scholastics found it so. 3 Further, a
recent survey of theologians indicated that during regency 89%
meditated at least 15 minutes a day, 60% thirty minutes or more. 4
These statistics, contradicting the "well-known facts," should alert
future committees to the importance of establishing the problem's
existence if the ensuing discussion is not to be mere shadowboxing.
Here I am not suggesting the rumors of disaffection are false, merely
that the existence of disaffection was not empirically settled and
that rumors sometimes deceive.
The second unexamined supposition is that the problem has been
properly stated. Two polarities emerge in the literature. The first is
exemplified by the resolution of the JEA Coordinating Committee
in April, 1967, which appointed a committee "to work on the problem of effectively presenting to young Jesuits the values of our institutional apostolate in education." Underlying this resolution is
the JEA's view of the problem, "Young Jesuits are disaffected," and
the solution, "Convert scholastics to the present apostolate." The
disaffected, however, would view the problem as "Jesuit educational
institutions are awry," and the solution, "Reevaluate these institutions." The JEA resolution rests on the assumption that the future
apostolate of scholastics should be in our schools. This is precisely
the point at issue for the disaffected and the one not resolved by the
Report. Moreover, this is the point that must be proven and, unfortunately, the one that probably cannot be. It probably cannot be
proven because those who will try to prove it are of the institution
and, thus, accomplices in the crime. A logician would not accept
as valid this ad hominem fallacy of rejecting an argument because
it is presented by "a member of the establishment." But he would
concede that such an approach is entirely convincing to everyone,
including young Jesuits.
3
E. Gerard, S.J., and J. Arnold, S.J., Survey of American jesuits (Vol. I of
the Proceedings of the Conference on the Total Development of the jesuit
Priest, 1967 ), Tables 26 & 27, pp. 28-29.
4
G. R. Sheahan, S.J., "Problems of Formation During Regency," Presentation Papers (Vol. II, Part 2 of the Proceedings of the Conference on the Total
Development of the jesuit Priest, 1967), 153-201.
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No univocal concept
A third unexamined assumption is indicated by treating disaffection as a univocal concept. Disaffection, on the contrary, is a multitude of emotions and cognitions; disaffection towards colleges
differs from that towards high schools, which differs from that
towards all our present institutions. There is no one problem-and
it was a disservice of the Report to compound the confusion. "The
Jesuit educational institution" is a fiction, and the Jesuit college,
the Jesuit high school, and the Jesuit scholastic are each only a
category of our black-and-white minds. There are Jesuit universities
that do not belong to Jesuits, high schools that arc not in debt, and
even scholastics who find the rosary very meaningful in their
spiritual life (although less than 2%). 5 Even the degree of disaffectio.r is probably marked by a complexity of contributing factors: ( 1) the dynamism and quality of the school, ( 2) the knowledge and involvement of the scholastic in that school, and ( 3) the
intellectual orientation of the young Jesuit. Greeley, for example,
found in a survey of 35,000 college graduates that criticism of
Catholic schools by their students increased among those who had
higher marks, among those who viewed themselves as intellectuals,
and "among those who 'vent to Jesuit schools"l 6
Furthermore, since disaffection is nowhere defined, it is hardly
.surprising that the Report inadvertently demonstrated that disaffection, in a number of cases, is not disaffection at all. For the
Rep01t, "disaffection" can be the conclusions implied in present
educational policy. For example, Jesuit universities are becoming
increasingly secular. Then why~-I1ot teach in a fully secular university? Professional hiring procedtires leave the Jesuit college free
to contract a Jesuit or not. Then why cannot the Jesuit himself be
free to contract the college of his choice? The university hires laymen when no Jesuit is available. Then why not hire laymen when
the Jesuit is not available because he is employed in another university or apostolatc? "Disaffection," it seems from the Report, can
also mean accepting the implications of dwindling Jesuit manGerard and Arnold, op. cit., p. 29.
A. M. Greeley, "The Changing Scene in Catholic Higher Education," in
G. Gordon Henderson, S.J., ( ed. ), Proceedings of the ]EA Workshop on
jesuit Student Personnel Programs and Services (New York: JEA, 1965),
p.' 227.
5
6
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�DISAFFECfiON
power and the demands for increased diversilication of apostolates.
Finally, "disaffection" seems to apply to cases where there is a
positive evaluation of Jesuit schools coupled with the judgment of
equal or greater value elsewhere. Thus, many Jesuits feel the
Society cannot afford the luxury of 30 to 100 Jesuits within one
institution which serves only a very small percentage of middleclass Catholic students, though this is valuable in itself. Here "disaffection" is nothing else than recognizing that the Ignatian magis
implies something more should also be tried.
Lastly, the problem loses perspective by not being placed within
the wider context of current criticism of all educational institutions,
or linked to the widespread debate on the place and value of
Catholic schools, or viewed as part of the struggle in American
ecclesiastical and secular life between the primacy of the institution
and the primacy of the individual.
Some core problems, then, remain unexamined by this Report.
Does disaffection exist and with what dimensions and complexities?
Can and should our educational institutions be preserved as Jesuit
and Catholic? Should the individual Jesuit have greater freedom
in pursuing his own specialized apostolate?
Attitudes towards our high schools
To date, some of the best evidence of disaffection towards our
high schools comes from a survey of theologians. One of the questions asked was, "If you knew that you were to return to the same
community after tertianship, how would you feel?" 26% said they
would feel discouraged, 11% were indifferent, 35% satisfied, and
28% very pleased. 7 A more direct confrontation with disaffection
will be possible when the data is analyzed from the recent Part II of
the Special Study of the High School Apostolate of American ]esuits.8 The survey will disclose what the teaching regents think of the
quality and results of their high schools, whether they consider the
high schools the most effective way to utilize men and resources,
and which schools of the province should be phased out. This
study could also make clear whether disaffection is a free-floating
7
Sheahan, op. cit., p. 163.
D. R. Campion, S.J., (New York: Office for Research and Interreligious
Affairs, 1967).
8
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
cynicism towards education, or a situation-specific response, that is,
a response appropriate to perceived value or lack of it.
The reasons conjectured for high school disaffection have been
incubating in haustus rooms over the past decade where the problems of the burnt-out father, the uncreative principal, the ruleoriented disciplinarian, and the lethargic institution which devours
living men and spews back dry bones have all been masochistically
dissected. Administrators and the JEA may rightly think the accusations inaccurate. But what is significant here is that the accusations are believed by men who have actually lived within the belly
of the dragon. Some indications of the extent and nature of these
beliefs and, therefore, of disaffection are the following allegations:
1. ~Jediocrity of the schools. The charge is frequently made that
our scfiools are living on past achievements without knowledge,
skills, time, money, or equipment for innovation. ·whether there is
a basis for this charge will be clarified by evaluations such as the
one being carried out on the high schools of the New Orleans
Province by Columbia Teachers College. Whether priests and regents believe the charge of mediocrity will be established by the
forthcoming Study of the High School Apostolate. What ex-regents
think about the apostolic effectiveness of their school's community
js already established: 59% regard it as very good or adequate,
38% as poor. 9
2. Lack of effective educational aims and their primacy over the
economic. Again, among the theologians, only 29% thought that
there was enough reflection on.z.."and awareness of, the goals of the
·
school.
3. Lack of professionalism and the proper utilization of talent.
88% of the theologians thought their academic preparation was
at least adequate; 40% or 75%-depending upon the regionthought their teaching preparation was at least adequate. Threequarters regarded the opportunities to improve themselves as teachers were adequate to very good. But in the light of their goals of
excellence, 98% felt that increased opportunities to improve teacher
competency should be provided. Particularly missed were up-todate resources and teaching aids.
·9
Sheahan, op. cit., p. 163.
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�DISAFFECTION
4. Need for creative leadership among administrators. Principals
who are educational pace-setters were called for by the theologians.
"Again and again principals were charged with inefficiency, unapproachability, closed-mindedness, even indifference to the aims
of good education."10
Communications gap
5. Communication gaps both vertical and horizontal. 61% of the
ex-regents thought that communication ranged from adequate to
very good between faculty and administration, 59% considered
communication adequate to very good between administration and
students, 67% felt it adequate to very good between Jesuit and lay
faculty, and 78% believed it adequate to very good between faculty
and students. In another recent survey the percentage of high
school teachers and administrators who felt that their problems
were not sufficiently understood by the provincial was larger than
any other occupational group within the province.
6. The split Jesuit community of entrenched traditionalists versus
transient rebels. 15% of the theologians found relationships within
the high school community tense, while another 15% found them
unpleasant. 63% of the scholastics occasionally, or more often,
dropped a project due to criticism from the community or from
fear of such criticism.
7. Time to prepare classes, read, grow humanly, professionally,
and religiously. An informal questionnaire in one high school, for
example, found the scholastic's average load was 21.8 hours of class
per week and the average extra-curricular load-using the smallest
estimate given-was 12 hours per week. This is in contrast to a
nearby university which requires its professors to teach only six
hours per week. Concerning time for religious development, the
recent Committee on Prayer in the New York Province found that
three out of four respondents said they did not think their workload was much of a problem in regard to prayer.U
8. Weak religious and theological programs. At the time of the
Fichter report, over two-thirds of the students ranked the interest
-
10
Sheahan, pp. 186-187.
R. P. Kane, S.J., ( ed.), "Committee on Prayer,"
0967 ), 93-99.
11
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
of the subject matter and the teacher of religion in the lowest or
medium category when compared with other classes and teachers.~ 2
Nor do social and moral values, as measured by this report, seem
to improve through the high school years. \Vhat cannot be discovered, because of a lack of a comparison group, is whether the
high schools at least prevented a significant decline in social and
moral attitudes.
9. The need for money probably needs no documentation, but
the problem should be viewed in relationship to comparable institutions in order to give it some perspective.
10. Lack of motivation and rewards, lack of appreciation for the
fine arts, the low status of high school teachers, the need for shared
responsibility among teachers, parents, and students, all at present
lack tli~ evidence \vhich would prove them sources of disaffection
among young Jesuits.
In addition to these cognitive aspects of disaffection, numerous
emotional components can be hypothesized. Considerable frustration is experienced by the young Jesuit because impossible demands
are constantly made on him which he feels morally obliged to
meet but cannot. The persistent frustration of unfulfilled ideals both
for the school and for himself can lead to considerable depression
and discouragement. Such frustration may be attributed partly to
-the situation but partly to his own perfectionistic superego or uncompromising idealism, so unrealistically encouraged during the
course of training. Moreover, this perfectionism may foster emotionally consistent but logically non-sequitur convictions such as
"If our high school is only mediocre, it should not exist." This
frustration coupled with the realistic fear of diminishment (no
time to advance professionally through reading and study) may
thus easily result in abandoning interest in the high school apostolate. If the feelings are strong enough, one can expect a defensive
reaction of hostility towards the institution that heedlessly inflicted
pain and ruthlessly "used" him. This is disaffection.
'While no empirical data is advanced to support the reasons for
disaffection, 13 the rebuttals are equally unconvincing even on the
1 2 J. H. Fichter, S.J., Send Us a Boy . . . Get Back a llfan ( Ca~bridge,
}.lass.: Cambridge Center for Social Studies, 1966), pp. 75, 89.
• 13 In Sanders, op. cit. or Greeley, "Problems." But see A. M. Greeley &
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I
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non-empirical plane. 14 The attitude survey of special students towards teaching in a Jesuit college recommended by Sanders remains
undone. This only increases the speculation that the results would
range from indifference to despair.
Attitudes towards our colleges and universities
The number one charge seems to be that of mediocrity: the
average quality of students and programs, inability to compete for
the best professors due to finances, \Yeakness in theology, lack of
impact on the student's religious life, and so forth.
The second general indictment includes a program of action as
well: phase over or out. It is based on the belief that a Jesuit
university in post-Vatican, post-ghetto American Christianity is
anachronistic. \Vith fewer vocations, the colleges can no longer be
staffed anyway. Concentrating too heavily on a single apostolate,
the Society has lost its flexibility. The weary debate about Jesuits
teaching on secular campuses drones on.
These alleged reasons for the alleged disaffection arc challengeable, especially since global statements about Jesuit colleges simply
cannot be made. \Vhile this escape is convincing, the suggested
excuse of a communications gap between the college and scholastics
is not. Young Jesuits take courses on a large number of Jesuit campuses such as St. Louis, Fordham, Spring Hill, and Loyola of L. A.
Whole congeries of emotional reactions arc evoked when the
special student faces the prospects of teaching in a Jesuit college.
First, a loss of self-esteem follows from the feeling of being consigned to academic obscurity and a college without prestige. Secondly, there is a loss of support from highly specialized colleagues
who spur the student to productivity. This may be joined by a fear
that, without this support, the newly-discovered and appreciated
productivity will end. Thirdly, a general let-down can accompany
the return from the frontiers of knowledge and research to the
rudimentary level of teaching general courses to undergraduates.
-
P. H. Rossi, The Education of Catholic Americans (Chicago: Aldine, 1966);
and M. M. Patillo, Jr., & D. l\f. l\Iackenzie, Church-Sponsored Higher Education ('Vashington, D.C.: American Council on Education, 1966).
14
J. P. Leary, S.J, "All Vestige, No Vanguard: A Rejoinder," ]EQ, 30
(1967), 3-7; P. C. Reinert, S.J., "In Response to Father Greeley," ]EQ, 29
0966), 121-129.
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Isolation from critical fellow specialists and the lack of research
facilities and time generate problems comparable to the depression
of elderly persons who must face the future of an impoverished
and restricted life. Fourthly, the special student might well feel
guilty over having to abandon a life of research-the one goal and
standard by which he is taught to live and by which his peers
judge him. Even more traitorous in the eyes of his professors is
the likelihood of becoming an administrator if he is successful at
teaching. Finally, a sense of constriction and loss of freedom is
often felt by the student who faces a return to the paternalistic
and over-structured atmosphere of school and community.
If one wishes only to debate the objectivity of the perceptions
which evoke these emotional problems, then he has misunderstood
a whole dimension of disaffection.
Extra-institutional apostolates
The group of professional men outside of education seems to be
growing. One of the larger subgroups which we empirically know
little about are those who plan to work in the social apostolate.
The schools are generally not attractive to this group because the
schools do not appear sufficiently concerned and effective in social
problems. And, indeed, the facts seem to suggest this. Only one
third of the high school principals are clearly convinced that we
- are being very effective in producing social awareness through our
religion courses and social studies (which reach only the average
or poorer student in almost two-thirds of our schools) .15 The Fi<;hter
study discovered only slight improvement in racial attitudes and a
slight deterioration in most other social attitudes measured.
\Vhether the schools will improve fast enough to attract those
dedicated to the social apostolate is problematic. Perhaps the
amount of institutional lag will be measurable by the response to
Fr. Arrupe's recent letter. At any event, it is a rare school in which
the social apostolate assumes the proportions of the football team,
much less that of the speech club. Will the school be willing to put
its resources behind involvement in the inner city, possibly compromising its "standards" and its revenues? Will it dedicate even a
15 T. V. Purcell, S.}., "Administrators Look at the High School Social
.Apostolate," ]EQ, 29 (1966), 59-73.
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single full-time staff member to programming and coordinating
student involvement in social work? If not, the social apostles will
go elsewhere, disaffected but happy.
Like the patterns of disaffection mentioned above, an emotional
component exists here, too. Institutional inertia, i.e., the inability
to adjust quickly and accurately to new needs, breeds frustration,
as does paternalistic and restricting structures. Corrresponding to
this negative valence is the positiye attraction of the poor and
dispossessed. No doubt a touch of romanticism often exists in regard
to the poor, but it is an eminently Christian romanticism. In a
similar vein is the scholastic's "need for nurturance," the need to
serve, to comfort, to help the helpless. The training of the past did
not allow much expression of this Christian instinct. Finally, many
feel a need to escape the overly-ideational, intellectualistic atmosphere that marked the course of studies, at least in the past, and to
deal with humans on a human level.
No paper such as this should be concluded without some reflection on the values of disaffection. Disaffection should encourage
our educational institutions to sell their product to the hardest· of
all customers-to the young Jesuits whom the institutions helped
develop. This means they will have to provide an outstanding
product, an apostolically and educationally excellent school with
humane teaching conditions. Sociologists tell us that revolutions
take place when progress is occurring, only not as rapidly as
people's expectations. It must be admitted that our educational institutions are progressing. But are they as rapidly as the young
Jesuit's expectations? Through disaffection the young Jesuit in his
own way has delivered to our educational institutions the mandate
formerly used only by themselves: Improve or quit the school.
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�THEOLOGY AND LITERATURE: SELECTED
READINGS CONCERNING METHODOLOGY
(Listing prepared and commented upon by Patrick Samway, S.]., a '
deacon at Woodstock College.)
\VITHIN THE LAST TWENTY YEARS, writers and literary critics have begun
to investigate more carefully the problems connected with theology and
literature. As an interdisciplinary field, theology and literature is approached by men of different backgrounds. Some, like Nathan A. Scott
and William F. Lynch, S.J., are ministers and priests who teach literature as a profession and others, like Cleanth Brooks and J. Hillis Miller,
are critics interested in the theological dimensions of literature. Each of
these critics approaches theology and literature according to the style
- of his training and according to the authors he considers valuable. It
became clear at the First Theology and Literature Conference held at
Emory University in October, 1967 that the various critics presented
their ideas almost independentlY. of each other. Instead of a deepening
penetration into the basic problems associated with theology and literature, there was a horizontal array of papers and critiques which widened
the scope of the two separate disciplines rather than bringing them together into some coherent pattern. Most of all, what was lacking was an
attempt at some type of epistemology into theology and literature as a
valuable form of knowledge.
Books which attempt to discuss methodology in this field must be
careful to respect the autonomy of both theology and literature. It would
be the grossest error to maintain that literature can be ultimately defined as theology or that the components of theology are really the same
as the components of literature. It is necessary to limit the scope of the
analysis and seek a formulation of the most significant questions. If the
right questions are asked (and this is no mean trick), then, one can
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�THEOLOGY AND LITERATURE
explore the possible solutions to these problems. In the field of literature,
unlike the other academic disciplines of history, sociology, philosophy,
or the sciences, critics have generally shied away from trying to formulate methodologies. Literary critics feel to a great extent that if one
comes to a text with predetermined categories, it would be impossible
for the text to speak for itself according to its own inherent vocabulary
and forms. \Vorks of art, unlike paintings-by-number, have a spontaneity
and originality which resist analysis by an apriori listing of color, shape,
or texture. The following pages will briefly look at the methodologies
presented by five of the leading theology and literature critics.
TeSelle
In her book, Literature and the Christian Life (New Haven: Yale
University Press, 1966), 1Irs. Sallie TeSelle discusses the two coordinates
of literature and the Christian life with perception and skill. She rightly
notes that Christians are often uneasy about art in much the same way
as artists and critics are suspicious of Christianity. But this suspicion
does not prohibit an investigation by her into the significant relationships
between literature and the Christian life for our contemporary world:
"Granted the chasm that separates them-the absoluteness and exclusiveness of their truth claims-there are nevertheless bridges that span
the divide" (pp. 2-3). Mrs. TeSelle states in her introduction that she
will discuss the nature and function of literature, the nature of the Christian life, and show the relevance of literature to the Christian life. As a
committed critic, she opts for the position of a Christian, "one redeemed
by the love of God," who seeks to understand how literature can be
appreciated by today's Christian.
The major criterion by which l\Irs. TeSelle assesses a work of literature is "precisely the degree to which it does 'violence to neither faith
nor art.' This criterion is simple enough: it merely says that whatever
may be the relationship between Christian faith and the arts, there can
be no relation that sacrifices the integrity of either" (p. 8). She reprehends critics like Nathan Scott and Amos Wilder who, in her opinion,
have art serve as the negative pole in the condition humaine, where
all too often Christianity is understood either as a type of general metaphysics or as a leaven. Neither the full dimensions of the artistic
enterprise nor the specificity of the Christian faith is taken seriously.
In Literature and the Christian Life, the religiously oriented critics
are divided into three groups under the headings of religious amiability,
Christian discrimination, and Christian aesthetics. Briefly, religious amiability means that Christianity is the answer to the search for ultimate
meaning; Christian discrimination means that Christianity is a structure
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WOODSTOCK LETTERS
of beliefs either as a set of doctrines or as a morality; and Christian
aesthetics means that Christianity is the Incarnation. "The first area", she
states, "speaks to the problem of doubt; the second concentrates on one
doctrine or a narrow moralism; the third exalts the incarnation. I do not
think any of these is the heart of the Christian faith" ( p. 58). To various
degrees, }.Irs. TeSelle criticizes the writings of Nicholas Berdyaev, Roland
Frye, William Lynch, and Nathan Scott and praises the writings of
George Steiner, Erich Heller, and Erich Auerbach. Her main complaint
against many theologian-critics is that their criticism tends to be pri·
marily theological and not literary. In contrast, her particular body of
Christian prejudices center around a dramatic concept of man:
The basic intuition here is that man is a finite, temporal being, who is set
in a real world and whose task it is to understand this world through his
insight and make something of himself through his decisions. The main point
is that man and his world have a given structure, a structure best suggested
by such words as temporal, finite, open, free, and dramatic. The conviction is
stated in terms of the form, not the content of reality, for the very reason
that from the Christian perspective the unique thing about man in contrast
to the natural world is not his given nature but his ability to become some·
thing, yet to become something only by taking one step after another . . .
It is a vision that sees life as inexorably dramatic, with all the ambiguities,
complexities, reversals, and doubts of the dramatic genre ( p. 62).
In this way, Mrs. TeSelle fuses many of the ideas concerning theology,
literature, and the Christian life as found in the writings of Lynch,
Brooks, and Auerbach.
Four main topics
This book treats four main topics: religion and the arts; the nature
and function of literature, especially the novel; the Christian life; and
the relationship between literature and the Christian life. She places
particular emphasis on the aesthetic experience and the aesthetic object
in order to clarify her ideas. Basically the asethetic experience is the
"willingness to be really open to the uniqueness and newness of something, even if it means tearing up the neat cartography of one's world"
( p. 7 4). Two examples of this type of experience can be seen in Buber's
1-Thou relationship where one is able to bracket his preconceptions and
let the other come to him in a new splash of knowledge and secondly,
in the absorption of a good novel whereby careful attention is rewarded
by an immediate and palpable apprehension of the particularity of this
book.
The aesthetic object or art object has the capacity to concentrate
attention on itself and on its unique insights:
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Whereas other objects (ideas, emotions, natural objects, human faces, and
so forth) are bound into a nexus of memories and relations, the art object
encourages us, though it cannot force us, to look at it and, for the time being,
at nothing else. It is a world in itself, a complete structural whole, which
attracts the wandering eye and mind into intense concentration and through
this concentration into an understanding of the novelty and freshness of its
immanent meanings ( p. 79).
When a person reads a novel, the novel may influence him to act in a
certain manner because he is a unique person who unites different modes
of perception within himself and applies these insights to his behavior.
Usually this translation of intellectual perception into existential action
is not systematic, but vital. Such an approach is reminiscent of T. S.
Eliot's remark in his essay "Religion and Literature" where he maintains
that the common ground between religion and fiction is behavior. Eliot
believes our "religion imposes our ethics, our judgment and criticism of
ourselves, and our behaviour towards our fellow men. The fiction that
we read affects our behaviour towards our fellow men, affects our patterns of ourselves." According to Eliot, we may consciously read literature for different purposes, such as entertainment or aesthetic enjoyment,
but our reading affects us as entire human beings and has an impact on
our moral and religious existence. J\lrs. TeSelle sympathizes with this
orientation.
The natural direction of such an orientation is to unite the novel with
the reader. \Vith such a unity, one could well ask: does a work of art
have an ontological status which evokes the reader to go beyond the
mere story? And if there is an invitation to the "beyond," how is this
related to the spiritual and psychological make-up of man? !\Irs. TeSelle
believes that if literature is appreciated as something more than therapy
or pleasure, then it must be relevant to some type of reality beyond
itself. \Vith Wimsatt and Brooks, she realizes that any discussion of the
"beyond" character of literature presupposes some notion of the ultimate
nature of reality. She states that at "this point there is no possibility of
avoiding metaphysics or what we have called earlier a body of prejudices
and convictions about the way things are" (p. 90). \Vhether one's doctrine of man is carefully systematized or merely notional, it will be imperative to attempt an articulation of it in any literary discussion.
Mrs. TeSelle holds that literature has a relationship to ordinary reality
because it reflects the structure of human experience, especially in terms
of limit and possibility, "the possibility only attained by going through
the tensions, conflicts, complexities, and irresolutions within the limits
of time and concrete decision" (p. 93). Like drama, life is replete with
confusion, richness, reversals, and uncertainties. Put as succinctly as
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possible, "literature is about man experiencing, so the reality to which
the aesthetic object is relevant is the mode or structure of human experience, and the truth of literature is therefore its adequation to the
form of limitation and possibility, conflict and resolution, complexity
and insight that is inh·insic to human reality" (pp. 93-94). The novelist
praises neither God ncr man, but the significance of the human in all
its depth and diversity.
The ma;n point of :\Irs. TeSelle's book is that literature offers the
Christian "invaluable acquaintance":
It gins to the Christian, who is called upon to adhere totally to God in
spite of the n2gatiYe powers th:1t appear to rule the world, an understanding
of the depth and breadth of powers that his response must embrace if it is
to be realistic ... Literature also offers to the Christian, \";ho is called upon
to love. his fellmYs with a profound aml appropriate love, an entree into the
crannj~s of the human heart that a realistic love cannot do without ( p. 114).
In her discussion of man, J\lrs. TeSelle analyzes man as one who
stands before a G:;d who created the world for him. Man is basically
a disciple of the Lord, one who imitates not the content of Jesus' actions,
but the fcrm and style. :\lan must be willing and determined to be open
to God and to others because it is "the task of deepening, of making
more realistic, sensitive, and appropriate our response to God and man,
that literature's wisdom about man and the world speaks" (p. 134).
Following Lynch's suggestions, J\Irs. TeSelle sees man as struggling with
the finite density of our expcr:ence, as working progressively through
- time, space, and limitations in an endeavor to reach the heights and
depths of the human sp!rit.
A realistic appraisal of man avoids the dangers of angelism and brute
animality. Literature displays man's situations according to the complexity in which man finds him~l_f. From his appreciation of literature,
man can see and reflect up:m h:s c:;ndition so that the meaning he
achieves will inform his whole being. He is able to gain experiential
articulate wisdom. J\Irs. TeSelJe believes that literature is relevant to
the Christian insofar as it is good literature and not to the degree that
it deals with religious topics:
Because the Christian is called upon to love man as well as to trust God,
and because he must know man in order to love him properly, any and
every aspect of the human situation that is portrayed with depth and profundity is relevant to the Christian . . . Thus, the so-called secular novel iS
as relevant to the Christian as is the religious novel. Theoretically, the relevance should already be obvious in what has been said so far: novels educate
our sensibility in the contours of the human spirit for the sake of a more
appropriate response of love to our fellows. (p. 175)
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Man is able to appropriate this literary knowledge and put it into a
"doing" situation. Not that literature is a sermon, or a moral directive,
but it entices our imaginations to react creatively and increases our
sensitivity to the shifting patterns and complex indeterminacy of man in
the world.
Mrs. TeSelle asks, "How is literature relevant to the Christian?" and
not "What is the intrinsic relationship between theology and literature?"
Her question is more ethical than metaphysical. Unlike Karl Rahner, S.J.,
she avoids explaining categories of thought essential to theology and
literature which can be used as avenues to explore the relationships
between theology and literature. Unless there are operative avenues of
communication based on similar modes of existence, critics will continue
talking to mirrors. At all costs, one should avoid the creation of new
jargon, a new patois which would only add to the confusion. We should
use the available language of both disciplines and see where they have
common channels of thought. However, Mrs. TeSelle has admirably
answered the question she set out to explore and her work will have a
major influence in this field.
Another aspect of the problem is that of communication. Theology
is a study of God communicating himself to man through word and
works. Mrs. TeSelle suggests that the place "at which God impinges
principally on the world-the selfhood of man, rather than directly in
nature or history-and the way he does it-as the qualifier and goal of
human intention and action-is a model for the integration of the
human and the divine that is viable to modern man" ( p. 224). A theologian's task is to appreciate man's place before God in this world. A
writer's task, on the other hand, is to find an expression of his place in
the world as explicitly related to God, or working out of a Christian
environment and culture, or as indifferent to God, or as explicitly separate from God. A writer, therefore, does not have to be a believer in
order to write good literature. This presents a further difficulty in looking at the relationship of theology and literature: can one articulate a
methodology of theology and literature when a large number of writers
are atheists or indifferent to the divine? Or must theology and literature
be concerned only with the religiously-minded writers? If this question
is not answered, then, presumably, theology is relevant to a select group
of literary works of art.
Panichas and Reilly
In a recent anthology of essays on literature and religion, Mansions
of the Spirit (New York: Hawthorn Books, 1967), the editor, George A.
Panichas notes "the fear is sometimes voiced that the attempt to explore the connections between literature and religion will lead to the
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~
conversion of criticism into theology. Those who express this fear contend that to judge literature according to whether it adequately illustrates religious doctrine, or whether it correctly captures the essential
mood of a particular faith, would constitute an abrogation of the functions and the resp:msibilities of literary criticism" (p. 11). For Panichas,
what is needed is a critic "who can discern spiritual sources of art and
can communicate religious essences of art which are applicable and complementary to human existence" ( p. 13). He warns against literary
scholarship which limits itself to categories, criteria, and methodobgy
because it lacks the breadth and acuteness which inhere in a critical
sensibility. Like :\Irs. TeSelle, Panichas affirms the basic issue in theology
and literature is "whether cr not a critic is prepared to admit the relevance of religious elements, aesthetically and intellectually, in art and
to elucidate these in his interpretations. That literature and religion are
not discrete entities, and that there is a living relation between them:
these are truths that must be fully affirmed by a critic who in any way
believes that criticism is the 'pursuit of the true judgment'" (p. 14). Such
a conviction, however, leaves the scope of literature ambiguous. Should
one consider all literature or just literature which has religious and
theological overtones? The latter position would p!ace the writings of
T. S. Eliot, \Vaugh, Hopkins, and Dante somewhere towards the center
with an outer perimeter of lesser religiously oriented writers.
Some writers have been more specific than Panichas in the formulation
of their questions. Following the suggestions of Nmthrop Frye and
Ezra Pound, R. J. Reilly in his "God, ~Ian, and Literature" (Thought 42
( 1967) 561-83), prescinds from the conventual approaches to literature
and asks "what is the single most important thing in the world, and
does literature have any real and !mportant connection with it?" (p. 563).
Reilly says that we can spot .!he most important thing in the world
rather quickly because it has to .be connected with God and man. He
states that if we postulate both the existence of God and man, then both
are related and "everything man does has some relevance to this relationship because the relationship is part of man's identity, as part of
what he is. And thus literature, which has from the oldest times been
called one of man's highest or noblest activities, must also be relevant
to this relationship" ( p. 563). As Reilly attempts to find meaningful
patterns in the history of literature, both pagan and religious, he is con·
fronted with various problems. Specifically, while trying to construct an
hypothesis about the God-man relationship, he formulates two problems:
that of the Incarnation which is difficult to assess in concrete language
and that of the operations of grace as discernible in literature. However,
•these problems are not insurmountable and Reilly lists five classifications
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of writers according to the degree of contact the writer thought he had
with God:
1. The "rapt" writers (Theresa of Avila, \Vordsworth, \Vhitman,
Plotinus, Blake, Emerson) who have an awareness of their intimate
union with God.
2. The "excited" writers (Donne, Dante, Thoreau, Eliot, Hopkins,
de Chardin) who perceive an intimate union with God in a
manner less mystical and more intellectual than those in the first
group.
3. The "normal" or "humanistic" writers (Chaucer, Spenser, Shakespeare, Dryden, Byron, Browning, Faulkner) who are religious
but this is not central to their philosophies.
4. Those writers who have less than normal recognition of the Godman relationship (Homer, Sophocles, Swift, Milton, Pound, Keats,
Poe, Joyce, Orwell).
5. The "fervid deniers" of the God-man relationship who have a
negative view of theological concerns. Here there are subgroups:
(Housman, Twain; Kafka, ~lelville, Hawthorne, Camus, Salinger,
~lailer; Arnold, Conrad; Dreiser, O'Neill, Zola; Hardy, Dickinson,
Crane).
If the \\Titer's awareness of his relationship with God is the informing
spirit of his literary imagination, then Reilly feels that this norm should
be the key towards any classification of his works. For this commentator,
such a form of classification is too subjective and could possibly do great
injustice to the various writers insofar as each writer's personal vision
of life might be suppressed to emphasize his religious orientations.
Hanna
By classifying authors according to the style and mood of their writings, a critic must be careful in maintaining a balance between his own
personal taste and the nature of literature itself. If one catalogues religious writers, it presupposes such a genre as religious literature.
Thomas L. Hanna, author of The Thought and Art of Albert Camus and
The Lyrical Existentialists and Professor of Philosophy at the University
of Florida (Gainesville) begins his recent essay, "A Question: What
Does One Mean By 'Religious Literature'?" in Mansions of the Spirit,
by asking a question which Reilly presupposes: is there literature which
is religious? By positing such a category, does one indicate at the same
time the categories of nonreligious, unre1igious, or antireligious literature? Hanna cautions critics about establishing apriori too many literary
categories. \Vithin the religious literature category, however, Hanna sees
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three ways of exploring what it could mean: an autonomous structured
category, an upper gradation of value, or an objective historical typology.
He dismisses the historical typology which subsumes religious symbols
and personages: "It is historical because its very use involves pointing
away from the literary piece itself in its own autonomy and pointing to
matters of historical documentation" (pp. 75-76). Likewise there are
similiar categories which could be established by consulting an IB~l
programmer. Hanna believes the most "natural of all reflexes is to reduce
literature to something else, that is, something of a personal or practical
or historical familiarity, and by this reduction one is able to use literature for perhaps interesting purposes" (p. 76). Too often literature is
accepted because of its religious doctrine, both to the detriment of literature and doctrine.
Hanna bases his aesthetics not on the actualities which literature has
structured, but on the possibilities of life:
The ordering of its [literature's] structural possibilities is different from any
one person's life, and it is this difference which is the uniqueness of literature
and its interest. It is the recognition of this uniqueness that lies behind the
insistence in belle-lettres that literature is autonomous and self-justifying.
And, because it is an autonomous artifact of life, it is to be en;oyed and not
used or reduced. (p. 76)
In attempting to determine whether a religious literature exists and
what it is, Hanna suggests that we should consider this term either as
a category of literature or as an "honorific valuation of certain types of
-literature" (p. 77). This formulation of the problem separates literature
horizontally and vertically. Those who hold the vertical view "feel that
truly great literature, literature that has fully and triumphantly fulfilled
its possibilities of creating an impressive artifact of life, is by the same
token a literature which has r.eiigious dimensions, which has tapped
some religious source simply by virtue of the magnitude and density of
its literary fulfillment. This is a viewpoint which somehow espies a
direct relation between the ultimate aims of literature and the ultimate
apprehension of reality which is called religious" ( p. 77). This position,
Hanna argues, is only possible with the assumption that the purpose of
literature and the achievement of its end are the creation of an artifact
of life which incarnates the religious dimensions of life. Many tend to
look on the vertical view with scepticism because it is too personal. The
vertical conception embraces what might be called the highest values
in life, but on further investigation, the rationale for positing this aspect
is that if it is good, it must be religious at the same time.
One would expect a religious man to uphold the vertical view, although Hanna is vague about what a religious man is and does. Hanna
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believes that it is natural "for the literary amateur to use his literary
experience for other and extraliterary purposes; it is also natural for the
religious man to hold that the ultimate fulfillment of literature is the
literary representation of the ultimate religious dimensions of life as he,
the religious man, sees them" ( p. 78). The main danger with subscribing
to the vertical conception of literature is that one can discuss it only
with those who share a similar philosophy or theology. Thus, literature
loses its universality. Hanna bases this lack of universality mainly on the
assumption (not really proved or provable) that those who hold this
view are incapable of apprehending the greatness of the classics outside
their culture, such as the humanist culture, or the Buddhist culture:
But the patent parochialism of this conception of what is religious in literature is not the only reason for its insufficiency as a useful expression. Even
though this view is fatally constricted by an implied tyranny of values which
insists that this kind of literature is truly great and none other, there is yet
another consideration to be set forth: namely, that in this attitude there is
implied as well an insistence that literature, as an artifact of life, must by its
nature move toward conformity with certain modes of life. Such an insistence
ignores that a literary piece is not the artifact of an actual personal life but
is the representation of a possible career of life and that, as a projection of
possibilities, a literary work creates a unique structure and denouement
which stand in clear, autonomous detachment from the modes of actual life
against which and beyond which the religious man projects his vision of faith.
(p. 79)
Hanna believes that part of the literary enterprise is to unfold the possibilities in an artificial present and not to concern itself with the divine
finalization of human actualities in a timeless situation. He also thinks
the historical type and the honorific type insufficient.
The presence of the divine
The most acceptable approach is the third possibility which considers
literature religious when it exhibits the presence of the divine as dramatis
personae. Either a work of literature has a divine presence operative
within the literary structure or it does not. Examples of this third possibility can be seen in Homer, Eliot or Graham Greene. With this, the
search for religious literature is "thus ended: we have found out that
there is religious literature and what it is" (p. 81). Such a discovery,
however, will not be without its sceptics, such as the American Protestant
who has rethought the traditional theology and arrived at a new set of
conclusions and formulations which are sympathetic to Christian humanism, liberalism, and existentialism. Hanna sees a problem with the "antiPrufrockian litterateurs" who "cannot conceive of the divine as a person"
( p. 82). The newer caste of Christians tend to look on God ( Theos) in
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temporal and relational terms rather than in the more substantial
scholastic categories. Presumably, Christian theory has changed and
transformed itself. If the divine is considered immanent to the structure
of life either as love, peace, redemption, grace, etc., these concepts or
relational structures incarnate the divine presence in such a way that the
divine can be considered as an actual persona. Thus, this approach is a
legitimate concern of literature and an extension of theology.
As he draws near the conclusion of his essay, Hanna asks if there is
anything wrong with the view which accepts literary works as autonomous artifacts representing life and with the view which sees certain
literary creations as having their thematic and relational structure incorporating the same immanent theological structure which one sees in
life. Naturally, these positions are acceptable. Literature often transposes
the presence of wrongdoing, guilt, and judgment into their religious
equiv7ttents:
'Vhat we are saying, then, is that it is possible to have an approach to
literature which isolates certain categorical types of literature according to
immanent themes and structures which display certain aspects of nature and
limits of men as they move through a background of the nature and limits of
their social and natural world; but this approach to literature-which brings
with it specific conceptions of the nature of reality, time, process, and human
and natural possibility-is unquestionably a metaphysics of literature. Its
claim to be a theology of literature or a literary approach to religion is a
claim only and is an assertion within the midst of an internecine dispute
~within theology that is only tenuous. (p. 84)
Hanna concludes that there is no theology of literature and no specific
religious literature other than the one which contains the presence of
the divine. He believes in a metaphysics of literature which is proposed
by those in favor of articulating.-the proper structure of literature in a
religious manner. Such a metaphy~ics for him is open to the richness of
literature.
Miller
Finally, J. Hillis 1Iiller, Professor of English at Johns Hopkins University and author of The Disappearance of God and Poets of Reality,
is most aware of the problems connected with theology and literature.
In his recent essay, "Literature and Religion" (Relations of Literary
Study: Essays on Interdisciplinary Contributions, New York: Modern
Language Association, 1967), Miller notes that the relationships between
theology and literature involve methodological problems which can be
readily indicated, but not nesessarily solved. He divides the problems
i_nto two areas: one set of problems concerns the relation between the
critic and the artistic work and the other between the work and the
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personal, cultural, or spiritual reality it expresses.
In any work of literature, critics attempt to explore the work in order
to find its meaning. A difficulty arises when the reader comes to the
novel or poem with his own background and personality and is con,
fronted with the problem whether or not he is imposing his own views
and thereby changing the novel:
The problem arises when a critic, with his own religious convictions, confronts the religious subject matter of a work of literature. Critics have usually
chosen one of three characteristic ways of dealing with this problem. Each
may lead to its own form of distortion. The critic may tend to assimilate
writers to his own religious belief. He may be led to reject writers because
they do not agree with his religious views. He may tend to trivialize literature
by taking an objective or neutral view towards its religious themes. ( p. 112)
No one would deny the critic has his own set of religious beliefs. Many
great writers have been committed to religious truths and ideals. Because
of this :Miller holds "the first responsibility of the critic, it appears, is
to abnegate his own views so that he may re-create with objective sympathy the way things seemed to Homer, Shakespeare, or Stevens. Literary study must be pluralist or relativist because its object is so" ( p. 112).
A critic must have the capacity to adapt to the mentality of the author
he is investigating.
Yet a critic might become schizophrenic by denying or totally suspending his beliefs. On the other hand, if the critic "tries to reconcile his
religious belief and his love of literature he may be led to say that the
works he reads agree with the insights of his faith, though when viewed
with different eyes they do not appear to do so" (p. 113). One could
press Christian views out of Kafka or Camus to such an extent that they
lose their own particularity in their own historical context. Miller cites
Maritain, Tate, Amos \Vilder, Scott, and Auden as critics who tend to
criticize literature as a theological dialogue with the author. A critic
must realize that while formal, organized religion is on the decline,
literature can never be a substitute. Literature should never become a
theology. A further development of this could result in the type of
criticism Maurice Blanchot engages in, whereby he fuses his own ideas
with those of the author to create a tertium quid which often proves
difficult to assess. (See Maurice Blanchot, La Part du feu [Paris, 1949];
Lautreamont et Sade [Paris, 1949]; L'Espace litteraire [Paris, 1955];
Le Livre venir [Paris, 1959].)
But if a critic avoids these traps and still wishes to keep his own beliefs intact, he might "take a work of literature seriously enough to put
in question the truth of its picture of things, and will have the courage
to reject those works which seem to him morally or religiously mistaken"
a
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(pp. 115-16). If, in Eliot's view, an author wrote a work which was not
in conformity with the historically authentic tradition, then, this work
has what could be called a negative value and, in a sense, is heretical.
\Vhat this approach does, however, is to offer a limited range of suitable
authors and fails to recognize the "heretic" as a mature writer with his
own personal vision, different perhaps, but not necessarily less rewarding.
\Vhat happens if a critic tries to keep his views out of his criticism?
Miller suggests this critic "must efface himself before the experience of
literature, seek nothing for himself, give his mind and feelings to understanding of the work at hand and helping others to understand it through
his analysis" (p. 117). Literary criticism could become a trivial pastime
if purely objective criticism were written: "The student of literature,
quite properly wants to know what's in it for him, and a pure historical
relativism, to the degree that it answers that there's nothing in it for
him, reguces the study of literature to triviality" (p. 120). Thus, a critic
must guard himself against reconciling his religious views with those of
other authors, or of making the views of others his own, or of failing
to take the religious themes of various works seriously enough.
A new set of problems faces the critic when dealing with the external
context of a literary work. \Vords have histories and have been used in
myriad situations before. A poem or a novel can be analyzed successfully in relation to other poems or novels by the same author or by
different authors:
Its [a poem's] relations to its surroundings radiate outward like concentric
-circles from a stone dropped in water, and it may be extremely difficult to
give a satisfactory inventory of them. Moreover, this investigation tends to
disperse the poem into the multiplicity of its associations until it may become
little more than a point of focus for the impersonal ideas, images, and motifs
which enter into it. (p. 120)
--
Another alternative would be to r"eject the circumstances and look to
the poem as a separate entity. In this case, one may be reduced to mere
repetition of the poem or to silence.
Meaning of meaninglessness
In a religious literary context, such as an evaluation of Hopkins'
poems, should one deal with just the single poem or see it in relationship
to Hopkins' other poems, and his letters, notebooks, essays, and other
additional writings plus the authors and ideas which influenced him?
Miller acknowledges the validity of each approach and suggests that
each approach implies a different notion of the way the religious themes
are presented. This brings him to the problem of what it means to say
that religious meanings are present in literature. A critic could look at
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the culturally orientated religious beliefs of an author insofar as the
author mirrors his age. Or if one follows some of the approaches used
by the structural linguists, the religious element in a poem or novel
would be seen as interacting with the other religious themes and words
achieving a sort of literary intrinsicism. A critic could end up with Paul
Ricoeur's reproach against Claude Levi-Strauss: "You save meaning, but
it is the meaning of meaninglessness, the admirable syntactic arrangement of a discourse which says nothing." If the words do not lead beyond the author, then any religious significance is deprived of its divine
dimensions.
Miller has handled the various problems without going to extremes.
He has highlighted the difficulties and problems which plague a scholarcritic. He warns against approaching literature from the viewpoint of
the draftsman who plots the interrelation of various words or from the
viewpoint of the psychiatrist exploring a self-inclosed mind. Miller looks
to the writer interacting with the divine as a source of religious significance in literature:
Only if some supernatural reality can be present in a poem, in a mind, or
in the cultural expressions of a community can there be an authentic religious
dimension in literature. Only if there is such a thing as the spiritual history of
a culture or of a person, a history determined in part at least by God himself as well as by man in his attitude toward God, can religious motifs in
literature have a properly religious meaning ( p. 125).
For Miller, the critic must face the problems of literature not by denying his religious convictions, but by broadening his knowledge in history,
philosophy, theology and the other academic disciplines in order to
avoid error. In this way, the critic will achieve a certain balance and
perspicacity in elucidating the proper meaning of the work he is treating.
A critic should approach the work respecting its integrity and, like a
person in love, let the other come to him in all its originality.
The above critics are representative of the methodological material
being written in this field. Their approaches range from Reilly's overly
schematic view of religious writers to Miller's more balanced view of
exploring the various tensions inherent in theology and literature and
showing how a well integrated critic is able to deal with complexity
without setting up false and unrealistic dichotomies. These books and
articles are valuable insofar as they indicate various ways in which
theologians and literary critics are able to expand their visions of life
to incorporate realms of meaning outside their own particular interests.
Hopefully, future scholars will build on the insights and research of these
five critics whose vision is not limited by parochial concerns.
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L E T T E R S
SPRING
VoLU:ME
98
1969
Nu~IBER
2
�INTRODUCfiON
published a startling
series of memoirs, "Philippine Jesuits Under the Japanese" (wL 74
[1945] 171-283). In this eyewitness account of the Japanese occupation of Manila and of Jesuit life during it, the name John F.
Hurley, wartime Jesuit superior of the Philippines, figured prominerttly. We now publish the late Fr. Hurley's own account. Special
thanks for this event must go to Rev. Francis X. Curran, S.J., of
Fordham University. Not only has Fr. Curran released Fr. Hurley's
manuscript to us; he was also instrumental in getting the modest
author to record his memories in the first place. In the present issue
we print the first nine chapters of "Wartime Superior in the Philippines." We omit chapters ten and eleven, "The Catholic Welfare
Organization" and "War Claims," which are technical in nature and
of less general interest to the reader.
TWENTY-FOUR YEARS AGO, WOODSTOCK LE'ITERS
Rev. Horace B. 1\IcKenna, S.J., of St. Aloysius Parish in Washington, D. C., records in this_·issue a night he spent last summer in
Resurrection City. Few Jesuits, young or old, shared the experience
of Fr. McKenna, a Jesuit for fifty-three years; few perhaps also
share his gracious and observant eye.
In this issue we also include two reports on New York Province
renewal. Advisory in nature, rather than province policy, the reports
deal with Fordham University and the New York secondary schools.
wooDSTOCK LE'ITERS would gladly receive any other reports of such
a nature, particularly from provinces farther away from its home
base.
G.C.R.
�CONTENTS
SPRING, 1969
INTRODUCTION
149
WARTI::\IE SUPERIOR IN THE PIIILIPPINES
•
John F.
Hurley, S.].
238
A NIGHT IN RESURRECTION CITY
•
Horace B. McKenna, S.].
NEW YORK PROVINCE RENEWAL
242
Report of the Special Committee on Fordham University
252
Report of the Special Committee on Secondary Education
�FOR CONTRIBUTORS
\VOODSTOCK LETTERS solicits manuscripts from all Jesuits on all topics
of particular interest to fellow Jesuits: Ignatian spirituality, the activities of
our various apostolates, problems facing the modern Society, and the history
of the Society, particularly in the United States and its missions. In general
it is our policy to publish major obituary articles on men whose work would
be of interest to the whole assistancy.
Letters of comment and criticism will be welcomed for the Readers' Forum.
iranuscripts, preferably the original copy, should be double-spaced with
ample margins. \Vhenever possible, contributors of articles on Ignatian spirituality and Jesuit history should follow the stylistic norms of the Institute
of Jesuit Sources. These are most conveniently found in Supplementary Notes
B and C and in the list of abbreviations in Joseph de Guibert, S.J., The Jesuits:
Their Spiritual Doctrine and Practice, trans. \V. J. Young (Chicago, 1964),
pp. 609-16.
STAFF
Published by the students of Woodstock College. Editor: Edward J.
Mally, S.J. I Managing Editor: Gerard C. Reedy, S.J. I Copy
Editor: Richard R. Galligan, -S.J. I Associate Editors: Richard A.
Blake, S.J., J. Peter Conroy, S.J., James F. Donnelly, S.J., Paul L.
Horgan, S.J., Joseph J. Papaj, S.J., Joseph F. Roccasalvo, S.J., Patrick
H. Samway, S.J., Thomas H. Stahel, S.J. I Business Manager: Alfred
E. Caruana, S.J.
�WARTIME SUPERIOR IN THE PHILIPPINES
when bombs fell on Manila
]OHN
F.
HURLEY,
S.J.
IN 1936, the Rev. John Fidelis Hurley, S.]., a powerfully
built and indomitable young man of forty-four, assumed
office as the superior of the Jesuit mission in the Philippine
Islands. On December 15, 1945, Fr. Hurley, with a body no
longer young and its health permanently impaired, but tcith
a spirit still indomitable, gladly relinquished the reins of his
religious office to other hands. The years of his superiorship
had been a most memorable decade in u:orld history. The
Japanese conquest of the Philippines and the subsequent
three years' occupation of the islands had been a period of
intense anguish and trials for the people in the Philippines,
Filipino and American, Catholic and non-Catholic. 1n those
difficult years, Fr. Hurley-"Fatlzer Mercy" as he came to
be called-emerged as a tower of strength. Not only did
he inspire the brethren of his own religious order, but he
assisted and encouraged and influenced the prelates, priests,
brothers and sisters of the Filipino Catholic Church. He took
immense risks and spent huge sums of borrowed money to
succor sick and starving prisoners of u:ar, internees, and
fugitives in the boondocks of Luzon. As he himself often
had reason to know, his chances of coming out of the war
alive tcere minimal.
But, by some miracle of divine grace, survive he did.
Terribly emaciated, with a permanently impaired heart, he
149
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
looked about the u;reckage of Manila and the Philippines
and at once set to twrk on rehabilitation and reconstruction. At his suggestion, the Apostolic Delegate to tlze Philippines (Archbishop William Piani) used his special faculties
from the Holy See, created the Catholic Welfare Organi::ation, designated himself as President-General and Fr. Hurley
as Secretary-General. This proved to be the largest and
most useful of tlze private agencies in the teork of aiding
the Filipino people in tlze aftermath of tlze tear. On his
return to the United States, he labored long and successfully in the halls of Congress to sec to it that the Am~rican
people did not forget the debt of gratitude and of justice
that they otced to the people tcho had suffered for tlwm
in tlw Philippines.
Clearly, Fr. Hurley's story slwuld be told. Obviously, he
was the man tclw should tell it. To tllis desirable objective,
lwu:ever, there teas one major obstacle: Fr. Hurley. And it
took a score of years to move tlwt obstacle. But as tlze dripping of water will teear down stone, so tlze constant appeals
of his brethren, the reiterated desires of his religious superiors, and possibly the appointment of the present tcriter as
a kind of gadfly, at long last had their effect. The prime
mover in the appointment of this gadfly teas tlw late Fr. ].
Franklin Etcing, S.]., tclw, after his constant urging of
Fr. Hurley proved of no avail, laid the case before the New
York Provincial, tclw enthusiastically issued the order. To
Fr. Hurley's constant.objection that he did not tcant to blow
his own horn, the constant ansu:er teas that he lzad a duty
to his Society of Jesus, ]lis Chmch in the Philippines and
his Filipino people to put daten on the record his memoirs
of years of trial and torm::nt and eventual triumph.
So, for the benefit of future historians, tlze present pages
were prepared. In tlzeir preparation, Fr. Hurley used many
sources. He tcell knew that the human memory is fallible,
especially in attempts to recall events tchich are receding
into the dim past. Therefore he checked his recollection of
events agaimt the thousands of documents in his files. A
preliminary draft of the present pages he sent to a number
150
�HURLEY
of his brethren who u:ere with him in the Philippines, in
order that they might offer suggestions and corrections. In
this connection, he wished to express his thanks, particularly
to Frs. Henry W. Greer (R.I.P.), John P. McNicholas (his
loyal and devoted socius and secretary respectively), W illiam C. Repetti (R.I.P.), and Arthur A. Weiss, who spent
many days organizing the documents of the War Claims
and the Catholic Welfare Organization. The present record,
then, is as accurate as Fr. Hurley can make it.
The function of the present writer u:as simply to assist
Fr. Hurley in putting the following pages into shape.
Francis X. Curran, S.J.
Professor of History
Fordham University
November 21,1966
151
�I) THE wAR COMES
~
VERY EARLY on the morning of Sunday, December 8, 1941, I left
the Jesuit residence on Arzobispo Street in the Intramuros section
of Manila, the old Spanish walled town. I headed for the civilian
airport at Grace Park, just north of the city, where I planned to
catch the seven o'clock plane for Bagnio, the resort town about 125
miles north of ~Ianila in the mountains of Luzon. ~Ianuel Quezon,
President of the Commonwealth of the Philippines, was there at
the time, and I hoped to have a brief interview with him.
The cause of my journey travelled with me. He was a novice
scholastic of the Society of Jesus, Teodoro Arvisu. The young man
bact ·recently achieved his long -nourished ambition to become a
Jesuit. His parents, Dr. and Mrs. Teodoro Arvisu, had long and
bitterly opposed their son's vocation. But when the young man had
graduated from our college of the Ateneo de Manila and had
reached the age of twenty-one, he applied, I accepted him, and he
had entered the novitiate of Novaliches, a few miles north of Manila.
His parents thereupon instituted a law suit to force his withdrawal
from the Jesuits. \Vhen the court ruled against them, his father,
who was the personal physician of President Quezon, asked the
President to intervene. Mr. Quezon had given orders that the young
man should be drafted into the Philippine Army. When the order
came, I got in touch with Maj. Gen. Basilio Valdez, Army Chief of
Staff, to protest. The general.agreed with me that the draft order
violated the law, and he further told me it was against army regulations. But if the Commander-in-Chief had giyen an order. ...
My plan was to present young Arvisu to the President, and let him
speak for himself. If, at the end of the interview, the President
could inform me that the young man wished to leave the Jesuit
order, I, as superior of the Jesuit missions in the Philippines, would
cease to protest.
\Vhen we arrived at the airport we found a scene of great agitation. The news of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor had just
come in and had spread like wildfire. I knew that President Quezon
would be a busy man indeed, but I still hoped that he would be
.'able to find a few minutes to discuss our little problem. Couse-
152
�HURLEY
quently young Arvisu and I boarded the plane, which took off at
the scheduled time. \Vhen we had been airborne about fifteen
minutes, I noticed from the position of the sun that we were no
longer Hying north, but to the south. The dozen or so passengers
were quite mystified, and the mystery remained until a few minutes
later the plane landed again at Grace Park, the door opened, and
an official informed us that we must all disembark. The American
Army command had ordered that the plane be recalled and sent
for safety to southern Luzon. As we disembarked we discussed the
question whether or not we would not have been just as safe going
on to Bagnio. Later we learned that the Japanese began bombing
the airfield at Bagnio, just at our estimated time of arrival.
Young Arvisu and myself headed back to the residence in Intramuros where I learned that Gen. Valdez had been on the phone
insistently. \Vhen I pl~oned Philippine Army Headquarters and was
connected with the general, he said: "Padre, please get over here
as soon as you can and bring Arvisu with you. I have orders to
arrest you, but I cm'not do anything like that. So please come over
at once." \Ve hurried to headquarters, which understandably were
in pandemonium. Valdez, a good friend of mine, had arranged to
have us brought at once to his office, where in a fury of activity
and concern, he took the time to express chagrin at the order that
Quezon had issued that Arvisu be drafted at once, and passed the
young man his ordel·s to report immediately to General Vicente Lim
in 1\lanila.
Inter anna silent leges. The time for protest had passed. I escorted
Arvisu to the headquarters of Gen. Lim, another good friend of
mine, who was preparing to move south of Manila to defend the
coast against possible Japanese landings. I turned the young novice
over to the general and returned to the Jesuit house in Intramuros.
(During the war, Gen. Lim was killed by the Japanese. Young
Arvisu surviyed, re-entered the Jesuits, was ordained priest, and
after only a few years of brilliant service, suffered an early death.)
At Jesuit headquarters, I too had decisions to make. The war
Would afFect everything in the Philippine Islands, including the
Church and the Jesuit Order. What stance should we take? \Vhere
could our young scholastics best and most safely continue their
training? \Vork that first fatal day was continually interrupted. Late
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
in the morning, Clyde "Chappie" Chapman, head of Mackay Radio
in Manila, phoned to inform me that the attack on Pearl Harbor
was far more serious than people thought; it was a disaster. \Vord
was coming through of the terrible destruction there when suddenly
reports were cut off and orders came through that the reports were
to be kept from the public.
Later heavy gunfire broke out. From the windows of our house
in Intramuros, we could look over the port area, only a few hundred
yards away. There we saw a U. S. Navy ship, heavily camouflaged,
firing its anti-aircraft guns. High above the reach of the flak, Japanese planes were dropping bombs on the shipping in the Port Area.
Later we learned that the Japanese had heavily bombed Clark Field,
north qf Manila; that night we could hear the bombs explode on
Nichol.~ Field, just south of Manila.
Inventories
The coming of the war was not altogether unexpected in the
Philippines. Early in 1941, Gen. George Marshall, Chief of Staff in
Washington, had ordered the return to the United States of the
families of all Army personnel in the islands; the Navy had issued
similar orders previously. At the time so remote did the possibility
of war appear that there was considerable grumbling by members
of the armed forces. The orders for evacuation did prompt some
...speculation by American civilians, particularly those of the business
community, about the advisability of returning to the States. As I
recall, very few left. Most businessmen judged that there would not
be any serious conflict in the Far East. Indeed their chief concern
was to build up large inventories before the war in Europe cut into
their sources of supplies. When. the Japanese did attack, Manila
had the biggest inventory that it had ever known.
On July 4, 1941, I attended a large gathering at the Manila Hotel
on the waterfront of the bay. \Ve were addressed by the American
High Commissioner, Francis B. Sayre, and Admiral Thomas C. Hart,
commander of the U. S. Navy in the Far East. Both officials, while
warning that we might be in for some little difficulties, issued soothing and reassuring statements. Obviously it was the policy of the
American government to encourage American civilians to remain in
the islands. The wholesale flight of the American community to the
States would unquestionably have a deleterious effect on the morale
of the Filipinos.
154
�HURLEY
For the evacuation of the families of the members of the armed
forces was already having bad effects on the morale of our American
soldiers, airmen, and sailors, so much so that the high command
was concerned. One day at Arzobispo Street, I received a visit from
the chief Catholic chaplain to the American forces in the Philippines. I was surprised to learn from him that he came at the suggestion of High Commissioner Sayre and Maj. Gen. George Grunert
who was in command of the Department of the Philippines. The
chaplain requested that, in order to help morale, I should assign
American Jesuits to give lectures to the men at the various military
installations in the islands. lVIy instinctive reaction was that the idea
might be self-defeating; members of the armed forces might resent
exhortations to courage coming, not from professional fighting men,
but from civilians, and civilians moreover whose white cassocks
showed that they would not take up arms themselves. I asked the
chaplain for time to think it over and to discuss the matter with
other Jesuit fathers. \Vhen he returned a day or two later, I proposed, and he agreed, that 've might accomplish his purpose by
sending American priests to lecture under the formal title of "The
Psychology of the Filipino."
Indeed a course of lectures on the psychology of the Filipino
would of itself have been useful to American servicemen in the
islands. Filipino culture is not European or American. Lack of
mutual understanding between Filipinos and Americans could and
did cause unpleasant incidents. \Vhen the Japanese occupied the
islands, tl1eir complete ignorance and disdain of Filipino culture
was one of the major reasons for Filipino hatred of their occupiers.
A few days later, I proposed my ideas at a luncheon at the Army
and Navy Club in Manila, which was attended by the high commissioner and the commanding general and members of their staffs,
and from which the press was excluded. I was pleasantly surprised
at their enthusiastic reception of our plan, and I readily agreed to
set up schedules of lectures by American Jesuit priests at the various
military installations.
I myself went to Clark Field, our major airbase in the islands,
and gave a lecture to our airmen. Among those present was Brig.
Gen. Edward King, at the time military advisor to the Philippine
office of the USAFFE. The initials stood for United States Armed
155
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
Forces of the Far East, or as the fighting men at the time declared,
the United States Armed Forces Fighting for England. Later Gen.
King was given command of the Army in Bataan and had the
humiliating task of surrendering and participating in the infamous
Death March.
My visit to the base demonstrated to a mere civilian as myself
that we were far from ready for combat. Some of the young flying
officers had little experience in piloting their planes. Indeed some
had no experience whatever in night flying, and they could not
acquire it at Clark Field, because neither the field nor the planes
were equipped for night flights. The officer who drove me back to
Manila summed it up: "Padre, we have the best typewriters of any
army in the world."
And the airmen h."Uew their precarious situation. Nichols Field,
the air field south of ~lanila, was just a few miles from the campus
of our Ateneo de ~Ianila on Padre Faura Street, and many servicemen used to attend Sunday ~lass in our college chapel. On the
Sunday preceding Pearl Harbor, numbers of these airmen gave the
fathers and scholastics at the Ateneo their home addresses and
mementoes for their families back in the States, with requests that
the Jesuits get in touch with their families in the event of their
deaths. They reported that Japanese reconnaissance planes were
~flying over Nichols Field, and the Americans could do nothing
about it. Their planes were not equipped to reach the high levels
of over 10,000 feet at which the Japanese planes flew.
In the Philippines, November 30th is National Heroes Day. The
outstanding event of the dayf.-~ttended by thousands of Filipinos,
is a formal review by the President of the Commonwealth of the
cadet regiment of the University of the Philippines. In 1941, Mr.
Quezon informed the university officials that he would, as usual,
take the review, but that he would, contrary to custom, address the
audience and the cadets.
I had forewarning that the speech would be of more than usual
importance. Fr. Edwin C. Ronan, C.P., who at the request of the
Philippine government had come over from America to organize
the chaplain corps in the Philippine Army, informed me that during
the week before the review, the President, obviously under great
r;tervous tension, was busy working on his address.
156
�HURLEY
On the afternoon of November 30, I made my way to the reviewing field and was escorted to a seat a few feet away from the
podium erected for the President. The audience was large and included practically all the ranking officials of the Commonwealth.
Supreme Court justices, senators, congressmen, cabinet members
and the upper echelons of their staffs were there in profusion. The
day was cool and cloudy, threatening rain. The actual review passed
without incident, but when the President stepped to the podium to
begin his address to the assembled audience and the cadets in serried
ranks before him, the clouds poured down a heavy, drenching rain.
The cadets, without waiting for orders, simply broke ranks and ran
for cover. Obviously annoyed, Quezon bellowed out at them.
Sheepishly, the cadets returned and reformed their ranks.
President Quezon
At the podium Mr. Quezon shuffied the pages of his speech for a
moment. But the next moment, he pushed the pages aside and with
one arm resting on the podium he leaned towards his audience
with a most serious mien. His first words were: "I am here to make
public confession of my first failure in my public life." At this there
was a titter throughout the audience; obviously they believed he
was joking. But his glare should have removed any misunderstanding; he was not making jokes. His next sentence was bellowed: "If
bombs start falling on Manila next week ..." At this there was an
uproarious laugh from the audience. Only a few feet away, I could
see the President in a fury. His eyes flashing fire, he shouted "You
fools!" Shocked into immediate silence, his auditors waited in
apprehension. The President resumed: "If bombs start falling on
Manila next week, then take the traitors and hang them to the
nearest lamp post." He went on to tell the Filipinos that war could
come to their islands at any moment and that the armed forces
were not ready for it. Several months before he had complained to
Pres. Franklin D. Roosevelt about the weakness of Filipino defenses
against the dangers threatening the islands. He informed his audience that he had told Roosevelt that he felt it his duty to warn his
people. The American President had begged him not to make any
such public statement, for it would have a bad effect on a delicate
international situation. But now, Quezon declared, the situation had
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
~
become so perilous that he would be derelict in his duty if he did
not inform his people of the dread prospect before them.
The speech of Pres. Quezon was one of the most magnificent I
have ever listened to. Never have I seen a man so sincerely honest
and forthright and courageous in his remarks. He aimed to arouse
his fellow countrymen to their danger. But it appeared that he
failed. As the audience broke up, I sensed that the reaction of those
present was incredulity.
A further incident demonstrated that I had gauged the reaction
of the audience aright. On returning to Intramuros, I wrote a brief
letter to :Mr. Quezon, to congratulate him on his magnificent effort
to arouse the country to the dangers he so clearly saw. I knew from
experience how to get the letter to him quickly. I went to Malacanan
Palace, the official residence of the President on the banks of the
Fasig River, and entrusted it to the American ex-soldier on guard
at the gate.
Early the next morning I received a phone call from ~Ialacanan
Palace. The speaker was Mrs. Jaime de Veyra, the President's social
secretary, who told me what had transpired. J\Irs. Quezon had told
her that the President had not slept all night; nor did she, for her
husband walked the floor of their bedroom continuously. Mrs. de
Veyra said that at the breakfast table the President looked more
troubled than she had ever seen him. At the table, the President
received my note, ripped it open, read it, and then tossed it down
the table to his wife. For the first time, Mrs. de Veyra said, he
seemed to get a grip on himsel.f. He spoke to his wife: "Here, read
that, Aurora. That man has no· axe to grind. He is not afraid to talk
honestly and frankly, as he has done to me on several occasions.
He is absolutely honest and I trust every word that he says. That
note means more than anything that these fools think or say." (Quite
an encomium from a man who in a few days would order my
arrest! ) Mrs. de Veyra informed me that she was phoning on
instructions from the First Lady, to express her gratitude for the
encouragement I had afforded her husband.
An hour later, Mrs. de Veyra arrived at our house in Intramuros.
She told me she came at the President's order to deliver his note
of acknowledgment and to express verbally his sense of gratitude;
~he was forbidden to send any lesser messenger. Mrs. de Veyra fur-
158
�HURLEY
ther informed me that I was the only man in the Philippine Islands
who had sent a word of encouragement to the President. \Vhile
cables of reproach were pouring in from the United States, the
members of his own government were silent, a fact which troubled
Quezon exceedingly. For the only time in J\hs. de Veyra's experience, the President called for pen and ink and wrote the message
in his own scrawl. (Unfortunately, the missive vanished in the later
destruction of Manila.)
Pres. Quezon tried to warn his countrymen, and failed. Next week
came. And the bombs started falling on Manila.
II) AwAITING THE JAPANESE
DAYs, bombs fell intermittently on Manila. Japanese
planes flew unimpeded over the city by day and by night. Usually
the bombardiers aimed for the shipping in the Pasig River, which
bisects Manila, or those ships anchored in the bay itself, or tied up
at the piers in North Harbor. Often the planes missed their targets,
and their bombs fell into the city itself, notably into Intramuros.
In our residence on Arzobispo Street, we found it useful during air
raids to take shelter in a stairwell between the residence and the
church, an area safe from any but a direct hit. \Vhen the planes
had passed, our priests would go out with the oils for Extreme
Unction to be of service to the wounded and dead. At times we
would find the street in front of our house littered with shrapnel.
Often enough the dead we discovered bore no marks of wounds;
they were simply killed by the force of the bomb blasts. The Manila
Fire Department did heroic work with inadequate equipment,
rescuing those trapped in bombed buildings, putting out the tremendous fires which raged in the area, working twenty hours a day.
Immediately upon the outbreak of war, the authorities rounded
up all Japanese civilians in Manila and put them in small internment camps. Few if any of these Japanese were Catholics, but
they requested religious services and the American Army asked me
to supply them with temporary chaplains. I assigned Fr. Henry
Avery as a resident chaplain in an internment camp of the Japanese
just south of Manila and I myself on several occasions said Mass for
Japanese interned in a building in Manila. The Japanese were most
IN SUBSEQUENT
159
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
courteous and appreciative of our services. Apparently our presence
reassured them; they were not going to be turned over to the tender
mercies of a mob, or killed by the military.
\Vhile all Japanese were rounded up, Japanese agents were at
work in :Manila. \Vho they were, no one ever discovered. But at
night, apparently to guide the bombing planes, or more likely as a
bit of psychological warfare, flares would be lit by unknown hands.
One night flares were placed right beside our house in Intramuros.
\Ve were awakened by a tremendous rapping on our front door.
\Vhen the great door was opened, in burst a group of ~.Ianila police,
members of the American and Filipino Armies, and of the Philippine
Constabulary. They were of course searching for tl1e men who had
set off the flares. \Vhen they discovered who occupied the building,
they ..moved to leave. But I insisted that they search the building,
lest one of the saboteurs had entered without our knowledge. Search
parties went through tl1e building. I led one, and as I approached
the door to the roof, a young American sergeant stopped me by
getting a grasp on my white cincture. He refused to let me go on
the roof; in my white habit I would be a p2rfect target. He had a
valid point. Sporadic firing of guns went on throughout the city
by day and by night, and particularly in areas where flares were
flaming. As one Army officer explained, the men were so jittery they
_ were just firing their guns into the air or aiming them at any suspicious object. On my insistence that I lead the party onto the roof,
the sergeant gave me a memorable answer: "No indeed, Padre. I
don't want to be responsible for you getting shot. I am getting $55
a month to get shot at." \Vh!le the flares might not have been particularly useful to the Japanese air force, their reite:-atcd flaming
and the subsequent raids and shootings added to the troubles of the
defense forces and heightened the fears and apprehensions of the
people of Manila.
Nor was J\fanila able to find reassurance in the news that carne
into the city. The Japanese had made good their landings on the
major islands of the archipelago. On Luzon they were present in
strength and were closing in on the Philippine capital. And preparations were being made for the evacuation of Manila by the
defense forces and the Commonwealtl1 government. To celebrate
. Christmas in the usual fashion was impossible, when the people of
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�HURLEY
11anila could see the ships steaming away from the city to Corregidor and the Bataan peninsula.
On December 27 :\Ianuel Quezon transferred the government of
the Commonwealth of the Philippines to Corregidor, and Gen.
Douglas MacArthur formally designated 1Janila an open city.
We in Manila waited in dread the coming of the conquerors.
In the meanwhile, I had taken such steps as I thought necessary
and proper to safeguard and continue the work of the Society of
Jesus in the Philippines. The Jesuits had had a long and not
inglorious history in the islands. If we could help it, it was not
going to end due to a war.
The Spaniards had begun the occupation and Christianization of
the Philippines in 1565, under the leadership of the soldier Legaspi
and the Augustinian friar Urdaneta. The first Jesuits had come to
the islands in 1581 and served until in 1767 orders were given that
all Jesuits were to be expelled from the Spanish Empire. The
Spanish Jesuits had returned to the archipelago in 1859 and had
resumed their earlier works.
In 1921 the Jesuits of the Province of Aragon began the transfer
of their endeavors in the Philippines to American Jesuits. During
World War I, the mission fields in India staffed by Jesuits from
Germany were largely denuded of priests due to the internment
of the German Jesuits by the British government and their repatriation after the end of the war. It was decided at Jesuit headquarters
in Rome that the place of the Germans should be taken over by
American fathers. But when the Americans assigned to India applied
for visas, they met inexplicable delays and postponements at the
hands of British officials. Apparently the British Raj did not want
American Jesuits in India. Finally higher Jesuit superiors decided
to see if Spanish Jesuits were more acceptable to the British rulers
of India. They were. Thereupon the Province of Aragon was asked
to take over the former German missions in India, and the Province
of Maryland-New York was assigned to supply men for the Jesuit
works in the Philippines.
American Jesuits
The first contingent of American Jesuits to the islands numbered
a dozen priests and ten scholastics, of whom I was one. \Ve reached
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Manila in July, 1921. While some of the Spanish Jesuits sailed to
India, a large number remained to break in the new-comers and to
continue the works to which they had devoted their lives. A catalog
which we drew up under date of June 12, 1942, shows that some
17% of the Jesuits in the islands were Spaniards: 19 priests and
14 brothers. Fortunate it was that they remained. 'Vhen the Japanese
rounded up the American Jesuits in concentration camps, the
Spaniards, as citizens of a neutral nation, were left undisturbed to
continue their necessary services. Together with Filipino Jesuits,
they continued the life of the Church in the barrios of Bukidnon
and Zamboanga, the missionary areas assigned to the Jesuits in the
large southern island of Mindanao.
In, the years subsequent to 1921, other groups of American Jesuits
app~ared in the island, and a large number of young and eager
Filipinos entered the Society of Jesus. According to the catalog mentioned above, there were in the islands in the first summer of the
war 264 Jesuits. Of that number, some 47% were Americans; 85
priests, 35 scholastics and 5 brothers, a total of 125. The Filipinos
were about 36%: 28 priests, 62 scholastics and 14 brothers, a total
of 104. (The catalog notes that one Filipino, Juan Gaerlan, serving
as a chaplain in the Philippine Army, had been killed in unknown
circumstances. Later we learned from two eye-witnesses the manner
~ of his death. 'Vith other prisoners of war, Fr. Gaerlan was on the
infamous Death March. He escaped but later was recaptured, together with about 100 other escapees, by the Japanese, who simply
wired them together and then bayoneted them to death.)
The major houses of the_.jesnit Philippine mission were, apart
from tl'e works in Mindanao, ~oncentrated about and in the city of
Manila. My chief concern was the safety of the young students for
the priesthood. Our Jesuit novices, juniors and philosophers, about
fifty in number, together with a dozen of our brothers and another
dozen of our priests were stationed at Sacred Heart Novitiate and
Scholasticate at Novaliches, a rather isolated area a dozen miles
north of Manila. Closer to the capital at Balintawak was San Jose
Seminary wl'ere, maintaired by the income of a pious foundation
called El Colegio de San Jose, our fathers educated minor and
major seminarians for the secular clergy coming from dioceses all
.over the Philippines.
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Japanese planes were flying regularly over the large and prominent buildings at Novaliches, possibly using them as a landmark.
Since they might consider them a military target and bomb them,
the Jesuits at the novitiate camouflaged them as best they could.
But I was more concerned about the possibility that the novitiate
and the seminary at San Jose might become battlegrounds between
the USAFFE and the Japar.ese armies rapidly approaching from
the north.
Manila seemed to be the safest place for the young men. Therefore I sent instructions to the fathers at San Jose to send the minor
seminarians back home to their parents and to bring the philosophers and theologians into the city. Similar instructions were sent
to the Jesuits at Novaliches. On Christmas day, the instructions were
carried out. Leaving a few Filipino fathers and brothers at Novaliches, in order, if possible, to save the buildings from the ravages
of plunderers, the Jesuit community and the San Jose major
seminarians came into Manila. Christmas night the novices, juniors
and philosophers spent in the Ateneo de Manila grade school next
to the Jesuit residence in Intramuros. But since Japanese bombers
were still flying over the city ar.d occasional bombs were dropping
in the area, on the following day I sent the young men to join the
San Jose major seminarians at the main campus of the Ateneo de
Manila, which in the southern section of the city known as Ermita
was not close to any military targets.
The Ateneo de Manila was our most important school in the
islands. Following the common pattern of Philippine schools, it
comprised an elementary school, situated in Intramuros, and a high
school and college, located at the main campus on Padre Faura
Street. The campus of some thirteen acres was a few hundred yards
from Dewey Boulevard, which skirted Manila Bay to the west, and
even closer to Taft Avenue, a major artery on the east. The Ateneo
Was equipped to house boarders and since the college boys had
gone home at the outbreak of the war, our scholastics and the
Josefinos, as the seminary students were known, could find adequate
facilities ready for them. Also on the campus was the Manila
Observatory, the chief meteorological station of the Philippines,
Which had been created and was staffed by our fathers.
When the young men arrived, they found they had to share the
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campus with a temporary hospital which the Red Cross had set up
in the compound to take care of some of the numerous war
casualties.
Before the Japanese entered the city on January 1, 1942, I had
concentrated practically all the Jesuits in the ~Ianila area at the
Ateneo campus. A few of our men remained at the house of retreats
known as La Ignatiana in the Santa Anna area on the Pasig River,
and a few, as I have mentioned, remained at Novaliches. At the
Ateneo, according to the catalog of June 12, 1942, were 161 Jesuits:
58 priests, 92 scholastics and 11 brothers.
The only other Jesuits on the main island of Luzon were a few
of our men at the Ateneo de Naga, a small school in its days of
infancy, in the tmvn of Naga, over a hundred miles southeast of
Mauila. It appeared that in this little backwater our men would be
safe. Indeed, the superior there, Fr. Francis D. Burns, telegraphed
me in the first days of the war that everything was normal and
suggesting that the Jesuits in Manila might be sent to Naga for
safety. But the Japanese who had landed at the nearby town of
Legaspi appeared, so we later learned, so suddenly in Naga, that
they captured the train in the station waiting with steam up to
depart for Manila. While the Filipino Jesuits were allowed to
remain at our little school, Fr. Burns and the other American Jesuits
were hurried off to the local calabozo. Later, they were sent to the
Ateneo de Manila.
The families
Not only was I worried aoo'ut the safety of our men in the Philippines, but I was concerned about the distress of the families of the
Americans back in the States, and the concern of their religious
brethren. I sent off a series of radiograms to Fr. Provincial in New
York, keeping him informed as best I could. On December 29, an
American demolition team destroyed the transmission tower of
Mackay Radio. Chappic Chapman, I recall, persuaded the officer
in charge to delay demolition until my last message, and the last
message of Mackay Radio from Manila, was sent off. After the war,
I discovered that the message was still remembered in New York,
and I was given a copy: "All well, fathers, scholastics, magnificent
.' work Red Cross, firemen, spirit superb, cheerio. Up Kerry. Signed,
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Hurley." This ended our communications with mainland America.
Communications between Manila and the great southern island
of Mindanao were severed early in the war. Only later did I learn
of events there. Our brethren were able to maintain contact with
mainland America after the lines to Manila had been cut, and
Fr. Joseph Lucas was vice-superior pro tempore for the Jesuits in
Mindanao. Our works were largely devoted to two sections of the
enormous island. On the long peninsula stretching out to the southwest of the island was the town of Zamboanga. In this area we had
a large number of churches, staffed chiefly by Filipino and Spanish
Jesuits. When the Japanese entered the area, they did not intern
these fathers. Consequently tl1roughout the war the fathers in
Zamboanga were able to remain at their posts and serve their
parishioners.
Most American Jesuits in Mindanao were located in the other
area, the northern coast of Mindanao, centered on the town of
Cagayan de Oro, a few more were situated at the town of Davao
on the south coast. Early on, some of the American padres hopefully believed that the Japanese would permit them to continue
their services as pastors of their parishes, and therefore presented
themselves to the occupying forces. They learned they were mistaken; they were immediately imprisoned by the Nipponese. One
of these was James Hayes, Bishop of Cagayan de Oro, where we
had our only school in the island, the Ateneo de Cagayan (now
Xavier University). Others were captured by Japanese troops. All
told, about a dozen American Jesuits ended up in Japanese hands
and after a period of internment in Mindanao were shipped to
Manila. Bishop Hayes in Manila managed to avoid internment, but
the others were present to greet me when I was interned in Santo
Tomas camp early in 1944.
But about twenty of our American padres in Mindanao remained
free throughout the war. The island is so enormous that the Japanese
had to be content to maintain garrisons in only some of tl1e more
important towns. Of course patrols frequently were sent out to visit
the innumerable barrios in the boondocks. Our fathers would Hit
from place to place, never remaining too long in any one settlement,
and relying on their faithful parishioners to warn them of the coming
of the enemy. There were hairbreadth escapes by the score. For
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example, an American padre, Clement Risacher was saying Mass
when a Japanese patrol entered the barrio. \Vhile still wearing his
vestments, he had to get to the nearest hiding place. He simply
crawled under his altar, and hoped that the Japanese would not
poke a bayonet through the long altar cloths. While the Japanese
inspected all possible hiding places in the barrio, they ignored the
altar.
Stories of two Jesuits in ~Iindanao m:1y indicate the spirit of the
Filipinos during the war. \\'Len the American pastor of the parish
of Ligan had to take to the boonc:ocks, his church was taken over
by a fearless Filipino, Fr. Augustin Consunji. Violently pro-American
and anti-Japanese he did little to conceal his feelings. The local
guerrillas found him a useful friend and the Japanese found him a
thQr~ in their side. Eventually Le was seized and vanished from
sigh"t. \Ve do not know the details of his imprisonment and death.
Obviously he was treated abominably in the jail at Cagayan de Oro.
The last bit of information we learned of him came from some
Belgian sisters who travelled on an inter-island ship from ;\lindanao
to Manila. On board they saw lying on the deck a prisoner, clad in
a filthy shirt and trousers and tied hand and foot. They recognized
Fr. Consunji and managed to speak to him briefly before they were
driven away by the guards. 'What happened thereafter to this courageous priest \Ve to the present day do not know.
Fr. John R. O'Connell was one of the American padres who
avoided Japanese capture. He lived with the guerrillas in the ~Iin
danao mountains and for some t:;irty months continued his priestly
ministry as best he could. In t!1e early Sl!mmer of 19-±4 he fell deathly
sick. By this time, the gne;ri1las had radio communications with
the Allied forces, and they called for l:clp. The American Navy sent
a submarine. The fai~hful Filipinos carried the sick priest on a litter
from the mountains to the coast over di1Iicult trails and in increasing
peril from Japanese patrols on a journey that took several days.
They reacbed the appointed rendezvous and set the signal for the
sub. Unfortunately the signal code had been changed, and the
guerrillas had not yet received tl'e new cocle. After surfacing for
two nights at the appointed spot, the submarine commander gave
the order, when the proper recognition signal had not been dis. played, to sail for base. The disappointed Filipinos could only carry
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the sick priest back to the mountains where shortly thereafter he
died.
III)
THE JAPANESE OCCUPY MANILA
had entered Manila, I moved to the Ateneo
de Manila on Padre Faura Street where I set up a cot in a room
on the first floor just beside the main entrance to the Ateneo compound. At two o'clock in the morning of January 2nd there was a
loud pounding and shouting out at our heavy gate. I got up, donned
a bathrobe and went out to see what the rumpus was. I found a
group of Japanese soldiers, probably fifteen or twenty, demanding
entrance. I unlocked the gates and they entered. They were very
nervous, very cautious, and watched me narrowly; understandably,
for at the time the Japanese were not yet in Manila in force and
did not know quite what was going to happen.
The officer in command pointed to a spot on his map marked
"Manila Observatory" and obviously wanted to know if this was
the place. I nodded that it was. (He, of course, knew no English
and I knew no Japanese. Recourse however to the international sign
language worked well. ) Then by pointing to his eye to indicate
inspection, he pushed his way into the foyer of the building. He
saw the big Red Cross flag hanging at the door. Putting my fingers
to my lips, I indicated that he was not to disturb the sick and the
wounded. But by impatient pointing to his eye, he insisted on
inspection. He was soon convinced that these were sick and injured
people present. Apparently under instructions to secure the Observatory, the Japanese officer distributed his men. In the patio were
piled some bags of sand for use as protection against bombs. He
instructed his men to carry out the bags of sand and set up a
barricade at the entrance. Thereupon sentries were posted.
The next morning many people coming to the Masses in our
chapel were stopped by the Japanese sentries who relieved them
of their wrist watches. Some of these soldiers had as many as six
Watches strapped on their arms. They also relieved people of their
fountain pens. They designated a pen merely by calling it a Parker,
and a watch, an Elgin. \Ve were compelled to supply these sentries
With cooked rice. For the rest of his meal, each sentry had a fish,
BEFORE THE JAPANESE
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supposedly impregnated with vitamins and minerals, about ten
inches long and as stiff as a board. One of these fish and a plate of
rice was an iron ration for hours.
During the next two days, we were left just to wonder what
\vould happen. \Ye heard that many Americans were being taken
to the Manila Hotel on De,vey Boulevard, about half a dozen blocks
from our campus. \\'e could see others on the campus of the University of the Philippines across the street. Others were summoned
to Santo Tomas, the ur.iversity run by the Spanish Dominicans on
the other side of the Fasig Ri\~er, which had a large campus with
some tremendously large buildings.
On January 6th, I \Vas at the residence of the Apostolic Delegate,
the -:Most Rev. \Yilliam Piani on Dewey Blvd. only a few minutes
away from the Ateneo compound. \Vhile I was there a number of
Japanese trucks drove up to tl1e Atenco and Japanese officers ordered
all Americar.s to mount the trucl.;:s and go to the University of Santo
Tomas to register. \Vhen the Jap::mese had gathered all the American
Jesuits at the front door, they wanted a list of their names. Suddenly, all fountain pens disappeared; among the ninety American
Jesuits, there was only one pen. Someor.e in the meanwhile telephoned me at the residence of Archbisl:op Piani, and I returned
at once. There was with this group of Japanese one man-later we
found out he was a Protestant clergyman-who understood a bit
of English, and who was acting as interpreter. He began to explain
to me, "All sirs will go to Santo Tomas to register." I told him we
could not go to Santo Tomas but that we would register here. Very
politely he insisted, "Oh no;' _Sir, all sirs go to Santo Tomas and
then return." One of the soldiers sensed that I was causing a delay
and he gave me a push on the shoulder. I stood back a pace or two
and by my scowl shO\ved resentmer:t at this insult. At that time
I did not know that for a Japanese to put his hand on a person
indicated complete disdain. \Ve \Vere dressed of course in the usual
costume of long white caswcks. I poin~ed to my habit and I said;
"\Ve are not accustomed to this kind of treatment." The ir~tcrpreter
very soon got the point and e:ol1ght tLat I knew also that this was
a very personal insult and tl~at I n.'scnted it. He said something to
the soldier who disappeared into the rest of the group. The inter. preter then called for the commanding officer of the group who
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came and told him to tell me that I must come with all the others
but we would return in a short while. I made a gesture from my
shoulders down indicating the garb, and stated that we were accustomed to being treated differently. Therefore we would register at
the Ateneo and not go to Santo Tomas. While the officer and the
interpreter insisted that we go to Santo Tomas, I continued to
demur. There 'vas some consultation and then the interpreter said
to me, "Headquarters say you must go." I answered that they should
telephone headquarters and tell them that we could not go, that
we should register at the Ateneo because we could not leave these
premises. To my utter astonishment, they said that they would get
in touch with headquarters.
Fabius cunctator
But meanwhile they would like to have a look at our campus. I
conducted the group to the rear of the main building out on to the
grounds where we had our four laboratories, all housed in separate
one-story frame buildings built just for that purpose. Incidentally,
these were considered the best equipped laboratories in the Philippines. They wanted to take a look inside, but I explained that I had
no key. After we completed our tour, the interpreter asked me for a
floor plan of the buildings. His English was so bad that it was
difficult to understand at first what he wanted. But when he used
gestures I understood his meaning. I decided however not to understand too quickly. Better, I thought, to follow the old Fabian delaying tactics. Eventually, I pretended to understand what he said
and declared that we would have the floor plan made in a short
while but it would not be ready for several days. Thereupon the
Japanese made movements to depart and the interpreter announced
that they would return on the following day at eight o'clock. I
insisted that that was too early; nine o'clock was my counter offer.
After shouting back and forth for some time, the Japanese interpreter became so angry, he jumped up and down. Then suddenly
out of a blue sky, I said, "8:30," and to my utter amazement, he
said, "O.K., 8:30." With that, they all left, and the trucks waiting
to take us to Santo Tomas were sent away.
The following morning a group of Japanese officers appeared at
our entrance. Rather surprisingly, there were six colonels. They were
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supposedly impregnated with vitamins and minerals, about ten
inches long and as stiff as a board. One of these fish and a plate of
rice was an iron ration for hours.
During the next two days, we were left just to wonder what
would happen. \\'e heard that many Americans were being taken
to the Manila Hotel on Dewey Boulevard, about half a dozen blocks
from our campus. \Ve could see others on the campus of the University of the Philippines across the street. Others were summoned
to Santo Tomas, the university run by the Spanish Dominicans on
the other side of the Pasig River, which had a large campus with
some tremendously large buildings.
On January 6th, I was at the residence of the Apostolic Delegate,
the ~:lost Rev. \\'illiam Piani on Dewey Blvd. only a few minutes
away. from the Ateneo compound. \Vhile I was there a number of
Japanese trucks drove up to the Ateneo and Japanese officers ordered
all Americans to mount the trucks and go to the University of Santo
Tomas to register. \Vhen the Japanese had gathered all the American
Jesuits at the front door, they wanted a list of their names. Suddenly, all fountain pens disappeared; among the ninety American
Jesuits, there was only one pen. Someone in the meanwhile telephoned me at the residence of Archbishop Piani, and I returned
at once. There was with this group of Japanese one man-later we
~ found out he was a Protestant clergyman-who understood a bit
of English, and who was acting as interpreter. He began to explain
to me, "All sirs will go to Santo Tomas to register." I told him we
could not go to Santo Tomas but that we would register here. Very
politely he insisted, "Oh no/ ~ir, all sirs go to Santo Tomas and
then return." One of the soldiers sensed that I was causing a delay
and he gave me a push on the shoulder. I stood back a pace or two
and by my scowl shmv-ed resentmer:t at this insult. At that time
I did not know that for a Japanese to put his hand on a person
indicated complete disdain. \Ve were dressed of course in the usual
costume of long white cassocks. I pointed to my habit and I said;
"\Ve are not accustomed to this kind of treatment." The interpreter
very soon got the point and f~ought that I knew also that this was
a very personal insult and t1<at I resented it. He said something to
the soldier who disappeared into the rest of the group. The inter.' preter then called for the commanding officer of the group who
168
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I
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came and told him to tell me that I must come with all the others
but we would return in a short while. I made a gesture from my
shoulders down indicating the garb, and stated that we were accustomed to being treated differently. Therefore we would register at
the Ateneo and not go to Santo Tomas. \Vhile the officer and the
interpreter insisted that we go to Santo Tomas, I continued to
demur. There was some consultation and then the interpreter said
to me, "Headquarters say you must go." I answered that they should
telephone headquarters and tell them that we could not go, that
we should register at the Ateneo because we could not leave these
premises. To my utter astonishment, they said that they would get
in touch with headquarters.
Fabius cunctator
But meanwhile they would like to have a look at our campus. I
conducted the group to the rear of the main building out on to the
grounds where we had our four laboratories, all housed in separate
one-story frame buildings built just for that purpose. Incidentally,
these were considered the best equipped laboratories in the Philippines. They wanted to take a look inside, but I explained that I had
no key. After we completed our tour, the interpreter asked me for a
Roar plan of the buildings. His English was so bad that it was
difficult to understand at first what he wanted. But when he used
gestures I understood his meaning. I decided however not to understand too quickly. Better, I thought, to follow the old Fabian delaying tactics. Eventually, I pretended to understand what he said
and declared that we would have the floor plan made in a short
while but it would not be ready for several days. Thereupon the
Japanese made movements to depart and the interpreter announced
that they \vould return on the following day at eight o'clock. I
insisted that that was too early; nine o'clock was my counter offer.
After shouting back and forth for some time, the Japanese interpreter became so angry, he jumped up and down. Then suddenly
out of a blue sky, I said, "8:30," and to my utter amazement, he
said, "O.K., 8:30." With that, they all left, and the trucks waiting
to take us to Santo Tomas were sent away.
The following morning a group of Japanese officers appeared at
our entrance. Rather surprisingly, there were six colonels. They were
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accompanied by the interpreter and also by a young Japanese
Catholic priest, named Fr. Ignacio Tsukamoto. He spoke no English
and I, of course, knew no Japanese; however, we were able to
communicate by means of Latin. Fr. Tsukamoto was quite nervous,
even more nervous than I, because he had no rank whatsoever as
far as I could make out. He was a member of the religious section
of the propaganda corps which included a number of Catholic
priests and a bishop whom I had met during the Eucharistic Congress in Manila in 1937; it also had some seminarians and some
Protestant ministers. None of these held any Army rank. The
religious section of the propaganda corps was commanded by a
Col. Narusawa who proved to be a fine gentleman. I was very
pleased to be able to talk with Fr. Ignacio even though we had to
resort' to Latin, because I was very suspicious of other interpreters.
Fr. Ignacio was very well disposed to his fellow priests and I was
anxious to give him some stature before these colonels. I let the
Japanese officers see that we could get along faster in Latin than
in the halting English of the other interpreter.
Rather to my surprise the colonels did not demand that we go
to Santo Tomas to register but they did want to expel all of us
from the Ateneo compound. I could very readily understand this.
Not only did it contain the Manila Observatory but our compound
~ had several large buildings; further, it was surrounded by a thick
adobe wall about four feet thick and six to eight feet high. I stated
through the Japanese priest that I could not give the Ateneo to them.
"Why not? Are you not No. 1 and therefore in full charge?" I
answered, "That is so, but I .do not have the authority according
to canon law to give up this-b"uilding." The colonels asked where
I could get the authority. I answered, "As you well know, it must
come from Rome." At the word, Roma, the colonels all began to
suck in their breaths to show respect. Later on, I learned that the
more cubic feet of air that they drew in, the more respect they
were manifesting. I could only spot one word and it was "H ota
Roma." Despite my assiduous inquiry later on, I could never find
out the meaning of H ota and no doubt I misunderstood their pronunciation.
The colonels then wanted to know how I could get the authority.
I answered, "in writing." Since there was no way of communicating
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with Rome, the officers assumed a more aggressive tactic. "We can
capture the building." I expressed surprise when the interpreter
translated this to me and told them that I was chagrined that the
officers used the word, "capture." Then to Fr. Ignacio I explained
that Army officers are considered gentlemen and gentlemen never
use the word "capture" to a civilian. To my great astonishment,
the colonels all smiled and bowed and said that they did not wish
to offend. They proposed then that I give them this compound,
in exchange they would give me the campus of the University of
the Philippines, which \vas right across the street from the Ateneo
and covered several square blocks. I answered that they could not
give me that campus because they did not own it. To their inquiry
as to the ownership, I said that it belonged to the Philippine government. This answer seemed to please them, as it apparently gave
them a way out. They immediately explained that since it had been
the property of the Philippine government, it was now the property
of the Japanese Army. I answered, "No, that is not quite true,
because according to international law, any property of a government used for charitable, scientific, religious or educational purposes
cannot be taken by an army except in case of military necessity."
I was an expert in international law; I had read some chapters in a
text book about two days previously. The discussion went back and
forth for some time. The Japanese officers apparently could not
understand why I refused to give up a campus worth about
$l,OCO,OOO in exchange for a property worth $14 or $15 million.
However, I continued to insist that I needed authority from Rome
in writing before I could give up the Ateneo campus.
At this point I began to realize that I was one against six.
Stepping to the door, I told a priest passing in the corridor to bring
in reinforcements. In a couple of minutes in came Fr. Miguel Selga,
the Spanish Jesuit who was director of the \Veather Bureau of our
Observatory, together with four or five of our American Jesuit
priests. When they entered, the colonels stood up and bowed very
politely. While the Americans all stood there rather stiffiy and
somewhat mystified, Fr. Selga, true to his European training, made
a very urbane bow; adding to his dignified look was his beard
which helped considerably. The Japanese colonels had come to
take over the buildings; they had not yet succeeded and of course
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they did not like to leave without obtaining something. Luckily
Fr. Selga, having been introduced as the Director of the Weather
Bureau, offered a way out to the colonels. They wanted to know
when they could see the Observatory. Fr. Ignacio translated this
idea to Fr. Selga who immediately asked if they wished to come by
day or by night. The colonels at once and very courteously protested that they wished to come only during daytime. Having
gotten permission to visit the Observatory at any time they wished
during the day, they felt that they had obtained something. At
least this was my impression of what was going on in their minds.
For they immediately paid respectful bows to us all and departed
with their swords clanking at their sides. It was a fantastic interview. 1\'obody was more surprised than myself because I did not
exp.e~t we were going to be able to hold on to the Ateneo. We did
h.-no'v however, that this was only the beginning and that we would
have many such visitations later on. \Ve certainly did, at least a
hundred or so, on one pretext or another. But we always managed
a toehold at least on the campus on Padre Faura Street.
Tension and danger
~
Life in the Philippine Islands under the Japanese occupation was
tense and dangerous. This was early demonstrated to us on the
Ateneo de 1Ianila campus. As I have mentioned, a Red Cross
hospital had been established in our main building. One of the
American volunteer nurses had brought her muchacha, the common
term for a servant girl, with her as a nurse's aid. \Vithin a week
of the Japanese occupation, _one evening just as the sun had gone
down this American woman c·ame to see me in great excitement.
One of the Japanese sentries had told her muclzacha that he wished
to take her that evening; the girl had become hysterical while she
was trying to tell her employer. When the nurse pointed out the
sentry, I made signs to him that the girl would not go with him.
He became sulky and sullen, and he did not desist from his
menacing mood. I told the muchaclw to disappear while I kept
arguing with the sentry; she got away successfully to the quarters
where the women were domiciled.
Seeing that the sentry was not going to desist, I followed instruc.tions that in case of any problem the Manila police should be
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called. I phoned the police and in a very few minutes four or five
policemen, armed only with small bamboo sticks, came to the
Ateneo. They were very courteous and cooperative but explained
they could not possibly do anything. They suggested that we call
the Kempetai, the dreaded Japanese military police, who were the
equivalent of the Nazi Gestap:l or Russian N.K.V.D. \Vc did so,
and in a short time a detachment of about a dozen Kcmpetai
arrived. Some of them obviously were officers, for they wore their
swords; the others had rifles with fixed bayonets. The J\Ianila
policemen explained the situation to the officer in command. The
officer in command then proceeded to interrogate me in J ap::mese
and of course, we could not understand one another. They had
brought along with them a Filipino interpreter who lme\v very
little Japanese. So the interrogation took place in a mixture of
Japanese, English, Spanish, and Tagalog.
Just when I thought we were making some progress towards
restraining the sentry, the Japanese officer began to look at me quite
scornfully. Suddenly without notice, he unleased a big wide haymaker. His very tight-fitting chamois glove made a quite solid fist.
Although it was a sneak punch, he telegraphed it a little al1ead,
giving me time to tuck my chin inside my shoulder. The blow
landed high on my temple, knocking off my glasses. I remonstrated
with him in gestures with as much dignity as I could command
under the circumstances. This seemed to mystify him a bit as he
stood in front of me with his arms folded, muttering something in
Japanese. After a minute or two of this scornful searching of my
face, he turned around and walked away about six or eight paces.
Suddenly he drew his two-handed sword and with a shout rushed
at me with the naked blade. There was absolutely nothing I could
do about the situation so I just stood there, made a quick act of
contrition and wondered what the hereafter was going to look like.
He brought the point of the sword to within three or four inches
of my stomach. Meanwhile the other Kempetai ranged themselves
in a semi-circle about me, leaving a way for me to escape. The
other officers also drew their swords and the fixed bayonets were
pointed at me. The officer who had threatened me, again withdrew, and again suddenly turned with a yell and rushed at me,
waving his sword in both hands in exactly the same fashion. (Later
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the suggestion was made that the Kempetai had acted in such a
fashion that if I had broken and run, they could have killed me
for attempted escape.) I stood motionless; and my antagonist suddenly sheathed his sword, folded his arms, glared at me, and
shouted in Japanese. He then summoned the interpreter, who took
his place between us, facing the Japanese officer with his back
directly to me. The interpreter would talk to the officer, then
immediately make an about face, with his back to the officer, and
explain what the Japanese had said. As I mentioned, the Japanese
of this interpreter seemed to be very meager and he had great
difficulty. One of the :r-.Ianila policemen who was very sympathetic
and very cooperative stepped in to help with his Tagalog. While
all this was taking place down in the patio just inside the main
door1 several American fathers and many others were witnessing it
from the second floor window just outside the domestic chapel. One
of them rushed to telephone the Japanese colonel in charge of the
religious section. How he ever got in touch with him, I could never
possibly figure out. \Vhile the fracas was going on, a telephone call
came to my office for the Kempetai officer in charge of the detachment. \Vhile the officer was on the phone, I, together with a Filipino
scholastic, Horatio de la Costa, was ordered to sit on a bench just
outside the office. One of the Japanese officers began prancing up
and down before us with a bared sword, practicing strokes for
cutting off heads. \Ve were not amused.
After he had finished a rather long phone call, the officer summoned me, the interpreter, an.d the very helpful Manila policeman.
After a few minutes, the policeman, completely amazed, said to
me that the officer seemed to be saying that he wished to forget
the incident. So amazed was the Filipino that he cautioned that he
was not absolutely certain and so he \vould try to learn more.
After again discussing the matter with the Japanese military policemen, he turned to me and, registering great pleasure and complete
amazement, asked was I willing to shake hands and forget the
whole unpleasant episode. Was I willing to shake hands? At that
moment I would have agreed to embrace the Japanese Kempetai
officer. At this point, Col. Narusawa with two or three of his men
from the religious section arrived on the scene and conferred with
the Kempetai commander. The colonel further phoned the com-
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manding officer of the area and apparently some other officials.
At any rate the upshot was that the Kempetai officer and I again
shook hands and the Kempetai detachment departed. Before they
left, I wanted to make sure that the offending sentry would be
ordered to stay outside the main gate of the Ateneo compound.
The officers, however, wanted him left inside; they pointed to a
bench, and explained that the sentries needed it for sleep. I persisted
and finally we settled for moving the bench outside the gate. The
doors were finally closed, with all the sentries outside the compound.
Pleasant and courteous
A day or two following this incident Col. Narusawa with several
others of his staff called on me. After we entered my office, the
colonel very politely put his sword on the desk and removed his
cap. Later we learned that when a Japanese puts his sword on your
desk and removes his cap, he is coming as a friend. If, however,
he keeps his headgear on and his cutlery attached to him, you
must watch out in the clinches-he is not there as a friend. \Vith
the colonel was Fr. Ignacio to interpret. The colonel stated that the
purpose of the Catholic Church was "peace in expanding world."
He claimed also that the purpose of the magnanimous Japanese
anny was "peace in expanding world"; therefore the Catholic
Church and the Japanese army should collaborate. I recall the exact
phrase of the colonel, "Peace in expanding world," for he used the
English words. I must say that Col. Narusawa was always very
pleasant, very courteous, and not at all belligerent. In every sense
he was a gentleman and was treating me as if I were perfectly free
to bargain. I took advantage of this favorable atmosphere to explain
to him that despite the aim of the Japanese to promote "peace in
expanding world," they were not pursuing that objective in a very
practical way in Manila. I called his attention to the way Japanese
were treating the Americans whom they were interning in the
University of the Philippines right across the way from us, where
they were forced to sleep on the bare terrazzo floor. In answer to a
request from these Americans, I had sent over scholastics with food
and blankets. Our scholastics, after several deliveries, had been
ejected rudely. The colonel made a note of this. Next I called
attention to the way that Japanese soldiers had burst in on the
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Convent of the Filipina Sisters of the Beaterio. The Superior
General, ~Iother Andrea, had told me of the rough treatment which
her sisters had received at the hands of the Japanese soldiers who
came there to demand collaboration. They had ordered the sisters
to remove their headdresses because they did not like them. The
soldiers ( i\Iother Andrea did not think there were any officers
among them), were very abusive to the nuns. "'hile I was giving
the colonel these and other examples of the "·ay the Japanese
army was intimidating the people, I asked him how be could expect
people to collaborate when they were thus being mistre::tted. He
noted all the incidents down.
During this discussion with the colonel, the telephone on my
desk, rang. On the other end was Sr. Georgia, a i\Iaryknoll sister
on-tpe staff of St. Paul's Hospital in Intramnros. This hospital had
been transferred at the request of the American Army to the Philippine \Vomen's University on Taft Avenue where they had nursed,
among others, the casualties from Clark Field and Nichols Field
before the \Vatmded soldiers had been transferred to Australia. Sr.
Georgia was highly excited, for Japar!ese soldiers had just burst into
the hospital. She had called on me to get help. While I was trying
to get some details, the connection was suddenly broken off. I
turned to Col. Narusawa, and told him the tale. Quite excited and
very upset, he left at once. I sent a scholastic with him (as a guide)
and I learned later what had transpired. On arrival at the Philippine \Vomcn's University, the colonel and the schalastic found that
all the sisters, nurses and the entire hospital staff were lined up
along the walls of the lobby. of the building. At the entrance a
Japanese soldier was lying prone in back of a machine gun trained
on the women, with his finger on the trigger and he was backed
up by soldiers with drawn pistols and fixed bayonets. Sr. Isabel
and another Maryknoll nun had been taken upstairs at pistol point
to search for American soldiers who, of course, had already been
evacuated.
The incident had developed because of a misunderstanding.
Some of the Filipina nurses were going off duty at five o'clock and,
as was their custom, they were leaving immediately so as to arrive
home before dark. At the door, they were stopped by a handful
, of Japanese soldiers who had suddenly appeared. The nurses very
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naively told the Japanese they were going out because "Sister said
we may go home." As they tried to brush by, the soldiers grabbed
them and pushed them back into the lobby. One of the Japanese
panicked and blew his emergency whistle. It was easy to understand the reaction of the Japanese because they were in constant
fear of an uprising. At the sound of the emergency whistle, Japanese
Army headquarters was notified at once and immediately dispatched units of the military police to the temporary hospital. The
soldiers rushed into the hospital and at bayonet point herded all
the staff down to the lobby. While the sisters and the hospital personnel were lined up in the main lobby, Sr. Georgia happened to
be near a room inside which there was a telephone and she managed
to make the call to me. During the conversation, a Japanese soldier
discovered her telephoning, thrust her back into the lobby, and at
the same time pulled the phone out of the wall.
Col. Narusawa managed to reassure the military but it took some
doing. Around eight o'clock he arrived back in my office. The poor
man looked very weary and was sweating profusely. He explained
that everything was now settled, that the cordon which had immediately surrounded the hospital had been withdrawn, and that
he had explained to the satisfaction of the military authorities the
way the matter had begun. The colonel said no more about collaboration; the subject had been forgotten, very much to my relief. I
asked him for some sort of written guarantee against invasion such
as the Maryknoll sisters had just experienced. He wrote out a sign
in Japanese, then fished in his vest pocket and brought out a small
pouch with an ink pad and a rubber stamp which proved to be his
personal seal and which he applied to the sign. This he thought
would guarantee us against a similar invasion.
Despite Col. Narusawa's note with his personal seal on it, we
were continually bothered by inspecting Japanese of all sorts of
organizations. To meet this problem, I stationed Bro. John Dio, a
charming Filipino colleague, in the lobby with a desk and a chair.
His chief and only duty was to remain there and act as a catalytic
agent by his mere presence. He would observe everybody and
anybody who came into the building. The iron gate to our building
Was fifty-five feet in front of the building itself. Whenever a Japanese contingent would appear at this gate and head for our door,
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Bro. Dio would simply turn to the telephone operator also located
in the lobby and announce, "Smith Brothers." Immediately she would
ring the signal on all the telephones located throughout the building. This signal meant that the Americans should keep out of sight
as much as possible and that the interceptors on every floor should
go into action. The interceptors were bands of two or three Filipino
scholastics. Their function was merely to interrupt the Japanese
wherever they happened to find them, because sometimes they
would get up to the second floor before the interceptors were able
to locate them, lead them around a bit and as quickly and as conveniently as possible, conduct them to the front door and with
profuse and profound bows bid them adieu. This strategy of
Brother Dio constantly on station as fonvard observer, his warning
of :'Smith Brothers," the immediate telephone signals to alert the
inte.i-ceptors, worked with remarkable success.
The term, "Smith Brothers," mystified some. It was the ordinary
code signal adopted by the Americans and the Filipinos to warn
of the appearance of Japanese. Obviously, "Smith Brothers" is
euphemistic. Its meaning, of course, was quite soon clear to most;
if not immediately evident to some, the meaning dawned once its
abbreviation was used. In \Vashington, S.O.B. stands for Senate
Office Building, in medicine, S.O.B. means shortness of breath; in
an occupied country, where one must constantly have recourse to
his wits. the meaning is not the same as in \Vashington or medicine.
\Ve had been using "Smith Brothers" for several weeks, when an
American Father came iPto mv room and asked me with a chuckle,
did I know what "Smith Br.others" meant? "Yes," said I, "it means
__ . tl1e Japanese are on t h e ,I•On7on. " "N o," h e sar"d , "I mean: do you
l..11ow what its derivation is?" "Yes," I answered, "that is quite apparent." He laug"hed uproariously, because despite the fact that he had
been using it for weeks and wondered why "Smith Brothers" had
been selected as a code, the meaning had only dawned on him, or
had been explained to him. The hvmor of it kept him in fine fettle
for at least two or three davs. Every time he mentioned it or saw
me Pe would enjoy a good laugh.
In Santo Tomas concentration camp, the use of the euphemism,
-"Tally-l'o," was common at that time. Almost everybody was familiar
with the story of the American who while out riding with the
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hounds and spotting the fox announced it in American lingo that
shocked the Britishers. His British sponsor suggested that in giving
vent to his enthusiasm in spotting the fox, he would use the less
uncouth British expression, "Tally-ho."
Besides the circumlocution "Smith Brothers," the irrepressible
Filipinos developed a whole dictionary of hidden meanings for
common phrases. To the Filipinos, DOME!, the Japanese news
agency, stood for Department of ~Hlitary Erroneous Information.
The buses in Manila, which soon-due to the shortage of gasolineturned to the use of coconut-shell burning for fuel, were named by
the Japanese by a phrase new to the Filipinos: City Bus. This soon
was interpreted: Come Immediately, Try Your Best, Uncle Sam.
Since Leghorn chickens are white, soon the term Leghorn was used
to designate an American. Gen. MacArthur was commonly known
as Macario. vVhen our forces on the way back from Australia took
the Solomon Islands, we received a number of telephone calls
which included information about the family pet, the good news
that "Our cat (or our dog) Macario is eating salmon for dinner."
An observer
The plan of an observer in the front lobby behind a desk which
had nothing on it or in it I learned from the Japanese themselves.
Whenever they took over a place, they sat one of their trusted men
at a bare desk; all he had to do apparently was to observe. As a
policeman on his beat, his mere presence prevented many a problem before the problem ever got started. It will never be known
how much the presence of Bro. Dio at the door did to save us from
a lot of unnecessary bother by the enemy. I was under pressure from
many of our colleagues to use Bro. Dio for many essential jobs, but
in my estimation his station at the door was much more important.
And I know of nobody who could have carried it off with the same
eclat as did the brother. He was graciousness itself. He was always
pleasant, met everybody with a charming smile, knew practically
everybody who came in and out and everything that happened in
and about the lobby. Bro. Dio was a most welcome sight to the
many people who came to our chapel throughout the day for confession, daily Mass and daily benediction of the Blessed Sacrament.
Sr. Isabel of Maryknoll suggested that we equip him with a hat
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with a long feather in it so that Bro. Dio could sweep it in a grand
semi-circle and bow. "One could not imagine," said she, "a more
gracious, graceful and courtly attendant to any king." The strategy
was not only highly successful but also at times contributed a great
deal of amusement. After long years as dean of discipline at the
Ateneo, I knew that the young Filipino had a keen sense of humor,
is quite fearless, and seemingly always ready for a bit of interesting
adventure albeit it carried calculated risk and trouble. The young
Filipino scholastic is no exception. The sight of Bro. Dio manning
his station cheered all of us up.
\Vhen the Japanese inspected the Ateneo, invariably they wanted
to see "Fadder Harry John." With the Japanese inability to pronounce the letter l, this was about the closest they could come to
the .. pronunciation of my name. Obviously I was not at all desirous
of seeing them. The room next to my office I had fitted up with a
bed. As soon as the alarm "Smith Brothers" was sounded, I retreated
into the room, shed my cassock and shoes, and climbed into bed.
Beside the bed, I kept a table equipped with a glass of water, a
spoon, a towel and a tube of Baume-Bengue (now known as BenGay) which had a very strong menthol odor. j'vly forehead I would
smear with the Ben-Gay, cover my face with the towel, and wait.
\Vhen the Japanese would insist on seeing me, the interceptors
would conduct them to my door. I would not answer to the knocking; frequently the Japanese would then go away. But several times
they entered the room. The sight of my prostrate form and the
smell of the oirtment always made them hesitate. Under my towel,
I would hear the forward st~_ps halt, reverse themselves, and then
the quiet closing of my door.
The scholastics told me that the procedure thereafter was almost
invariable. The Japanese would ask the nature of my sickness. When
the scholastics answered they did not know, the Japanese, with
their mortal fear of germs, would immediately whip out their handkerchiefs, cover their nostrils, and head at once for the open air.
This defense worked perfectly. In spite of very many inspections,
probably over a hundred, the Japanese never penetrated this cover.
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IV)
THE JAPANESE DEMAND COLLABORATION
in control of the Philippines, they demanded
Filipino collaboration with the Empire of the Rising Sun. The
conquerors spoke often of a New Order in a Greater East Asia CoProsperity Sphere. Juan de la Cruz, the Filipino man in the street,
soon had an answer to that. In the Tagalog language the particle
"ko" added to a word indicates possession-that is, "mine" or "our."
Juan soon declared that when the Japanese spoke of co-prosperity,
they really meant prosperity-ko.
During the occupation the Philippines had to have a civil government and it had to be staffed by Filipinos. Some of the men who
took office were truly collaborators, seeking their own private advantage. But the great majority were patriots who reluctantly undertook the unwelcome task in order to serve their own people. Indeed
even before he left Manila, Pres. Quezon had instructed some of his
closest associates, among them Jose Laurel and Jorge Vargas, to deal
with the Japanese.
It was understandable that the Japanese would seek the collaboration of the Church to which the great majority of the Filipinos
belonged. I have described the first approach to me of the head
of the religious section, Col. Narusawa, and tl1e incident which
interrupted the discussion. I knew the matter had not been dropped
permanently. I would hear more of "peace in expanding world."
A few days later, Col. Narusawa returned again to get some kind
of declaration of collaboration from me. I countered by saying that
we were still being molested by the frequent, unnecessary and
uncalled for visitation by the Japanese authorities. I told him that
his note posted at our door had no effect whatsoever on these people. This left him a little nonplussed because he could readily
understand the logic of unwillingness to collaborate while we were
being subjected to these molestations.
Soon thereafter, I was summoned to the residence of the Archbishop of Manila, Michael J. O'Dougherty, who as a citizen of the
Republic of Ireland was neutral. It eventuated that all religious
superiors in the area had been called in by the Archbishop to discuss the question of collaboration with the invading forces. The
WITH THE JAPANESE
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Japanese had approached the Archbishop and wanted him to issue
a declaration to be read from all the pulpits of the Manila churches
telling the people to collaborate with the invading forces. The Archbishop asked me to see him in advance of the meeting to discuss
the question. On taking over the matter with the Archbishop, I
expressed my opinion that our moral obligation was to do nothing
that would interfere with the public peace and order, just as the
Mayor of :Manila and his police and fire departments were obligated to carry on their duties to the best of their ability. But as far
as actively assisting the Japanese in their attempt to control the
country, I, as an American, could have no part. I told the Archbishop that I could see no moral obligation either on Americans
or Filipinos, beyond the one that I had explained.
Eventually the Archbishop and I moved into the large room
where the religious superiors, nearly all of whom were Spanish,
were gathered. A delegation of Japanese officials arrived about
9:30 in the morning, though quite stiff and formal, they were also
quite courteous and very evidently bent on gaining our good will
and collaboration. They announced to the priests present that if
the Archbishop would authorize a statement from all the pulpits,
insisting and exhorting the people to collaborate with the Japanese, they in turn would give very special protection to the Church
everywhere in the Philippine Islands. The Archbishop practically
turned over the confrontation to me. \Vhen the interpreter finished
a statement or question, Archbishop O'Dougherty tossed the ball
over to me at once. I counte,red the proposal by explaining to the
Japanese that in the Philippines there was absolute separation
of Church and state. The Church never attempted to interfere in
purely political matters and conversely the government maintained
a hands off policy towards all religious organizations. This was the
American system and it had been adopted by the Philippine
government in their constitution. The Philippine people accepted
this policy of separation of Church and state without demur. If you
attempt, I told the Japanese officers, to have the Church use its
moral persuasion to obtain the collaboration of the Filipino people,
you are choosing the worst possible means. The people will say to
themselves very quietly that this is no business of the Church. We
are accustomed to separation of Church and state. The Church
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should remain in its own sphere, the government should attend to
its own business and not interfere in religious matters. Therefore,
I went on, if you want your attempt at collaboration certainly to
fail, then you are using the best possible means to make it fail. The
Archbishop, I said, should not, could not do as they requested.
I insisted that they did not appreciate the psychology of the Filipino
people. For the Archbishop or any of the Church prelates to try to
ram collaboration down Filipino throats, would only stiffen Filipino
backs. Further, I continued, their continued molestation of all the
different religious groups by the frequent Japanese raids without
warning and without any necessity, were having a very bad effect.
Getting the people to collaborate, I told the Japanese officers, was
their problem. Our duties as religious leaders were to give the sacraments to the people and assist them in every possible way in their
worship of Almighty God. \Ve must not and cannot, I concluded,
interfere in any of the problems of the Japanese Army or the Japanese government.
This extended reply seemed to worry and disturb some of the
religious superiors and they looked at the Archbishop with dubious
glances. I caught these glances and the Archbishop turned to me
and asked my reaction. I held to the point and said that we had
nothing to lose but that, if such a proclamation of collaboration
were made by the ecclesiastical authorities, we would set back the
Church many years, because the people did not relish the occupation by the Japanese and they were rebelling internally.
Dignidad
One thing to which the Filipinos objected especially was the slap
in the face they got from the Japanese for any slight transgression.
The Japanese did not recognize the great importance which the
Filipinos put on dignidad. The Spanish had planted deeply in the
Filipino mind the idea of the dignity of the human person. To the
Japanese, a slap in the face was the slightest punishment that they
could mete out. Actually many times during the occupation, I saw
higher officers slap commissioned officers of lesser rank. Sometimes
they would take off a glove and slap them on the cheek with the
glove; at other times, they would use the palm of the hand. A poor
soldier who offended an officer would be punched with haymakers
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right and left. The Japanese could not fathom the idea that a slap
in the face was an outrageous affront to a Filipino's personal dignity. It appeared to me that they simply had no idea of the dignity
of the human person. The Japanese had a very excellent slogan,
"Asia for the Asiatics." This slogan however, did not fool the Filipinos because they understood that the Japanese did not have
Philippine welfare at heart. The Japanese were often mystified by
this reaction. At times, one "·ould put his hand alongside the hand
of a Filipino and say to him, "You see, same color, why not collaborate with us instead of with Americans, tLe blancos [the whites]?"
But to resume the description of the episode in the Archbishop's
palace. The officials had brought along with them large placards
printed in Japanese. These placards eighteen inches or so by about
tw~nty-four inches were translated for us. \Vhen they were displayed prominently on religious institutions, they would protect
the institutions against any molestation by the Japanese. They
explained that these placards were signed by the Kempetai, and no
Japanese would dare flout the order of the Kempetai. The Japanese
would give us these, the officers said, if the Archbishop \vould issue
an order for collaboration to be read from all the church pulpits.
Obviously some of the Spanish superiors thought this was a very
tempting trade. The Archbishop looked at me with a big question
mark in his glance.
I insisted that we must stand by the principle as enunciated,
namely that the Church could have no part in collaboration with the
occupying forces. Although we were morally bound to do nothing
to foment disorder or distU1'h· the peace in any way, nevertheless
we were not bound to give aid or comfort to the occupying forces.
I insisted that international law makes it perfectly clear that even
though the United States Army was not physically present at the
moment in the Islands, the United Stai.es was still the sovereign
power. No sovereignty could pass until at the end of hostilities the
peace treaty had been signed. I was really an expert on inter-.
national law; as I mentioned before, I had read, I recall, a few
paragraphs from a text booS:. Interestingly enough, the Japanese
were impressed by this logic. They saw that the bait of the placards
was having no effect on our stand on the principle of separation
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ning of the meeting.
I suggested to Archbishop O'Dougherty that he should accept the
placards and thank the Japanese for them, while making it clear
that under no condition whatsoever was there any possibility of the
Catholic Church collaborating with the occupying forces or even
giving the slightest appearance of doing so. In my own mind, I was
quite certain that the Japanese would leave with the placards. To
my great surprise, however, and to the surprise of all, they passed
over the placards to us and assured us they were not being given
on any basis of quid pro quo. I suggested that they give several
to all superiors present because the priests there represented a number of institutions in different parts of the city and of the islands.
They did not have enough, no more than two or three, as I recall
now, for every major superior. They did, however, promise to have
more printed and delivered and took the numbers required from the
different superiors present. Later they fulfilled their promise. For
the time being, they departed realizing they had not achieved their
aim.
It is interesting to note the effect these placards had when we
posted them on our different churches and schools and institutions.
Recall that they were signed by the Kempetai, the dreaded Japanese military police. Of course, the placards had no effect whatsoever on the Filipinos who daily streamed into our chapel at the
Ateneo de Manila for Mass, just as before. The marvelous thing is
that often a small detachment of Nipponese soldiers or sailors or
even some Japanese civilian unit would come to the door, read that
sign in Japanese, manifest fright and go away immediately. Actually
the ordinary Japanese military men were in fear and terror of the
Kempetai; this applied even to the regular Army whom the
Kempetai outranked. \Ve could never spot the particular insignia
that the Kempetai wore. \Ve did, however, notice that the military
police did normally wear white sport shirts, and we noticed that
these men in their sport shirts wielded far more authority than the
Army officers. An Army officer did exactly as one of these men
told him.
This is not to say that we at the Ateneo campus were not inspected time and time and time again. A car would suddenly draw
up to the door and in would pop two or three officers to make a
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quick inspection of the building. Of course, as soon as they
appeared, Bro. Dio would turn to the telephone operator and say,
"Smith Brothers" and the interceptors would get to work. These
inspections were not the only measures to keep us apprehensive.
A routine measure of the psychological warfare of the Japanese was
to send a few tanks rumbling and making as much noise as possible
through the streets at about two or three o'clock in the morning.
Also racing through the streets at weird hours would be motorcycles. Inside the Ateneo we could hear motorcycles coming up to
our front door, and the engines shut off. \Ve would wait in dread
and expectation for an invasion. After a few minutes, the riders of
the motorcycles would start up their engines and take off. The
evident purpose of this maneuver was merely to terrify people.
Whenever the Japanese decided to pick up anybody with or without suspicion, they would usually do it in the small hours of the
morning. They would send a delegation with tanks or possibly two
or three squads of infantry, always carrying fixed bayonets. They
would force their way into a house or compound and while the
soldiers would hold everybody at bay with menacing bayonets,
they would pick out the man they were seeking, tie his hands with
rope and push him out the door. \Vhereupon he vanished. Even on
regular patrols throughout the city always with fixed bayonets, the
~ Japanese guards, whenever they passed a clump of bushes would
thrust the bayonets in to make sure nobody was hiding them. I
know; on several occasions they missed me, it seemed, by inches.
Reopening the schools
~-
Soon after the Japanese occupation of Manila, the question of
reopening the schools arose. The Japanese, of course, wanted conditions to return to some semblance of normality as soon as possible.
A good many Filipinos and Americans, of whom I was one, were
opposed. In the civil government set up under the occupying power,
one of the most famous of the Ateneo de Manila graduates, the late
Claro Recto had assumed the office of Secretary of Education. Sen.
Recto got the word to me that he intended to delay as much as
possible in reopening the public schools, and he did. By one ruse
or another, he dragged his feet and kept dragging them.
I believed that it was not my function, as an American or as a
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religious superior, to assist the Japanese in restoring normal conditions. Of course, there was no possibility of re-opening the Ateneo
de Naga or the Ateneo de Cagayan. But the Ateneo de Manila could
be opened, together with a large number of schools in the city
conducted by both male and female religious. Practically all of
these schools had to depend for their support on tuition fees and
consequently their pupils were largely children of the middle and
upper classes.
I had discussed the matter with the religious superiors, both
brothers and sisters, in Manila. There was general agreement that
the private Catholic schools should remain closed. The matter was
discussed at a meeting of the board of directors of the National
Catholic Educational Association of the Philippines in Manila. The
directors decided to recommend that the Catholic schools should
not re-open.
This decision, however, did not sit well with the Archbishop of
Manila, and he decided to overrule it. Though he had no direct
connection or immediate jurisdiction over the National Catholic
Educational Association of the Philippines, whose functions were
primarily professional and technical, he ordered the president of the
N.C.E.A.P. to assemble in Manila a general meeting of as many
members as possible. The president at the time was Bro. Bonaventure John, F.S.C., of La Salle College, an American and a supporter of the policy to keep the schools closed. Bro. John could do
nothing but obey the prelate's command.
The day before the meeting took place, I was astounded to see
Archbishop O'Dougherty walk into my office. He insisted that the
schools should be re-opened, if only to get the children off the street
and to provide the religious with some means of support. He asked
me to use my influence as a founder of the N.C.E.A.P. to see that
the organization decided on re-opening. I informed the Archbishop
that I was not an officer of the association, that I could not properly
and I would not intervene, and that the members should be allowed
to make their own decisions without the intervention of outside
authority. Indeed, if the meeting was not to be allowed to reach its
decisions in a regular fashion but was called simply to ratify a
policy decided by an extraneous authority, I would not, I said, want
to see the Jesuit members of the N.C.E.A.P. attend. I pointed out
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that a decision to re-open would confuse the Filipino people and
would expose the religious teachers, at least the Americans among
them, to charges of collaboration. On an agreement to disagree,
the Archbishop left my office.
I passed the word to the Jesuit members of the N.C.E.A.P. not
to attend the meeting. It was well that they did not. Early comers
were astounded to see Archbishop O'Dougherty present a full halfhour before the scheduled time of the meeting. This was unique,
for the prelate had an invariable habit of appearing late at all
functions; he was commonly known as "the late Archbishop." Not
only did he, (quite improperly for he was not a member), attend
the meeting, but even more improperly he assumed the chair of the
president of the association. He then addressed the members, called
for a"resolution to re-open the schools, tolerated no discussion, and
rammed through his policy.
While we at the Ateneo de Manila ignored the directive, the
other Catholic schools reopened, and to their sorrow. For the Japanese soon supervised them in a fashion that was stifling. A Japanese
official would appear at a school, demand that classes be disrupted
for a general assembly, and then through an interpreter deliver to
the students a harangue on the evil, imperialistic Americans who
wanted to keep the Filipinos in bondage, etc., etc. All text books
- were censored. The Nipponese ordered that all words in the books,
every possible phrase that could remind the Filipinos of Americans,
should be blotted out-"United States," "dollar," "cent," and so
forth. Blank pieces of paper had to be pasted over these horrible
reminders, with consequenceS -readily imaginable. Then came the
orders that other words were to be hidden from the eyes of Filipino
children-"God," "Jesus Christ," "Catholic," "sacraments," etc.,
etc. It was easy to imagine the reaction to this order of religious
sisters and brothers. \Vhen the conquerors announced the coming
of a team of inspectors to check on the execution of their orders,
the religious with heavy hearts pasted over the condemned words.
But the students, particularly the children in the lower grades, soon
made a farce of the Japanese orders; with careful fingernails, they
diligently and delightedly removed the offending pieces of blank
paper. We at the Ateneo never had cause to regret our decision to
.'remain closed.
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If the Japanese could not get the collaboration of the Catholic
Church in the Philippines, they wanted at least to create the public
impression that the Church was collaborating. To this end on one
occasion they planned an obvious propaganda coup. They used a
Japanese holiday, I believe it was the birthday of the Emperor, to
schedule a banquet for the top echelon of the Japanese military
in Manila and the top echelon of the Catholic Church. I was among
the major religious superiors in the Manila area honored by an
invitation. Since I was the only major superior who was also an
American, the Japanese were especially anxious to have me present;
this was made clear by several phone calls. \Vhen the time for the
banquet came, I had the message sent to the Japanese that I could
not attend; I was indisposed.
Very early the following morning, miraculously cured, I was in
my office, looking at the front page of the Manila newspapers, which
carried pictures of the archbishop and the Spanish major superiors
seated at dinner with high Japanese officers and the accompanying
stories giving glowing descriptions of the festive occasion, when
I was interrupted by visitors. Though it was only the crack of dawn,
the visitors were Japanese officials. They subtly insinuated their
opinion that my absence from the banquet was due to "diplomatic
illness" and expressed the hope that at the time of the next festive
occasion I would not find myself suddenly indisposed. Fortunately
for me there was no second such banquet. How I could have
dodged out of a second, I frankly do not know. But the principle
of Deus providebit on which we depended all during the war served
us well.
V) SURVIVAL UNDER THE OCCUPATION
of Manila, I had concentrated
practically all the Jesuits on the Ateneo de Manila campus on Padre
Faura Street. ·when the communities of Novaliches and San Jose
had moved into the Ateneo, they had brought little with them.
Fortunately, in anticipation of difficulties due to the war in Europe,
the rector and the minister of the Ateneo (Fr. F. X. Reardon and
Fr. Anthony V. Keane) had laid in a plentiful supply of canned
goods. At first, these cases of food were placed in the storeroom
BEFORE THE JAPANESE OCCUPATION
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at the Ateneo. It did not seem good to me to have so much food
stacked in one large room, in one spot. At any moment, the Japanese could swoop in and rid us of all of it. I decided to store the
supplies in individual rooms. This did away with a single supply
center and scattered the food all through the house. Each man kept
an inventory of what was in his room and, when the cooks required
it, would produce what was necessary. At this time I do not recollect exactly how many cases of food were in any particular room,
but there might have been three or four cases in each man's room.
This proved to be a good maneuver because the Japanese would
come only to find that the storeroom was very, very meagerly supplied. The new cases that were kept there as camouflage were not
enough to tempt them to bother trucking them away.
A"plan of rationing had to be drawn up, and I left it to the
consultors of the various houses to study the inventory of food and
prepare such a plan. In that January of 1942 everybody seemed
to be hopeful that they would be liberated by May. They were
optimistic because of the information that was coming over the
radio from San Francisco. By a sparing ration plan, we could stretch
the food to, and possibly through, the month of :May. But I recall
very distinctly that several of the fathers were quite doubtful that
we would be freed by May. One of them said he postulated two
rainy seasons. How right he was!
As the first months of the war went by, it was clear that we could
not look for liberation for some time in the future. It seemed only
proper then to continue the .work of the Jesuit scholasticate and
San Jose Seminary at the AteiJ.eo. The students were there, and their
professors. With the blessing of the Apostolic Delegate, Archbishop
Piani, and of Archbishop of Manila O'Dougherty, in April 1942
classes were resumed. Normally the scholastics for their theological
studies would go to Woodstock College in Maryland after they had
completed three years of regency. But now those scholastics who
were scheduled for regency and those who were due to enter
theological studies joined the classes in theology of the Josefinos,
and the philosophy courses of both Novaliches and San Jose Seminary were resumed. These classes continued at the Ateneo de Manila
until in July, 1943, the Japanese expelled most of the Jesuits from
.' the Padre Faura campus.
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At the Ateneo campus, too, the training of the novices and juniors
continued. A most heartening indication of the spirit of the Filipino
people, their strong Catholic faith, and their devotion to their
American friends was that in those dark days numbers of young
men came to me asking to be admitted as Jesuit novices. Though
times were exceedingly difficult, and I was stretched to the utmost
to feed the numbers we already had, I could not refuse. About a
dozen youngsters moved in with us at the Ateneo and put on the
cassocks of novice scholastics.
Besides their work in the Ateneo de l\Ianila chapel and the classrooms, the Filipino fathers assisted as best they could in the city of
Manila, as did the Filipino scholastics. At first it seemed advisable
to keep the American Jesuits out of sight as much as possible. They
might run into difficulties with the Japanese sentries on station at
the entrance to the Ateneo compound, or with Japanese patrols in
the city. Eventually, as with the internees at Santo Tomas, we were
given colored armbands which permitted white men to go about
Manila. The color of the armband indicated the nationality of the
wearer. At the Ateneo, we received only a very small number.
Consequently only a few American Jesuits were able to leave the
compound at any one time. On one occasion when I was haled into
the dreaded headquarters of the Kempetai at Fort Santiago for
interrogation, one of the points raised was the British armband I
was wearing. Fortunately my explanation that all the American armbands were in use when I sought one, and that I had put on the
British armband as a substitute, seemed logical to my Japanese
questioner, and had no bad repercussions. Of course, if a pressing
emergency arose, our American padres would venture out into the
streets without armbands. Calculated risks, at times, had to be
taken.
As the months went by a problem emerged which was to plague
us all through the war-food. Though the Ateneo de Manila had
at first large supplies of food, these quickly vanished before unexpected demands. For in the Ateneo compound we had at first
guests almost equal in number to the 160 Jesuits located there. They
Were welcome guests and we gladly shared our food with them.
Not only was this in the tradition of Jesuit hospitality, but simple
Christian charity obliged us to feed the hungry.
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One drain on the supplies was stopped up after about three
months. Until March, 19-1.2, we provided food for the staff and
patients of the Red Cross hospital in our main building. Thereafter
the Philippine branch of the Red Cross took over the job until, with
the discharge of the last patient, the hospital closed down.
Two other groups, however, remained with us until July 1943.
About seventy American civilians were refugees in the compound
when the Japanese moved in. \Vhile some of the younger men were
transferred by the conquerors to Santo Tomas, thirty-nine of them,
women, children and older men, were still with us when we were
ejected from the Padre Faura campus. And about two dozen brothers
and priests of other religious orders had taken up quarters with us.
The largest group was a dozen Canadian and American priests of
the Holy Cross Order who, on their way to take up mission stations
in India, were trapped in i\Ianila by the outbreak of the war. And
we enjoyed the company also of a half dozen Australian Redemp·
torists, three or four Brothers of the Christian Schools, a couple of
La Salette Fathers, and an Oblate and a i\Iaryknoll priest.
\Vith the end of our food reserves in i\Iay, 19-!2, our diet was
reduced chiefly to cracked wheat. The wheat we had was old and
full of weevils. For a time we tried to remove the weevils before
cooking the wheat, but this proved to be an impossible task. There·
~ upon the wheat was cooked, weevils and all. In the beginning, most
of the diners were squeamish and they tried to removed the weevils
from their portion of cooked wheat. But eventually they gave up
and pulped down the porridge, weevils and all. Some cheered them·
selves by proclaiming that weevils must be a source of proteinand everybody knows protein is good for you. Occasionally \Ve were
able to provide meat for dinner. It was not in itself tempting, for it
was either horse meat or caribao meat. But hunger provided a sauce
that made it palatable.
I could see the effects of the diet on our young scholastics, and
I wondered if they could possibly study on about 800 calories a day.
But whenever I proposed calling off classes as too great a strain on
starving young bodies, the reaction of the faculty and students was
invariably: "Let's try it a bit longer." They kept at their books until
the Americans among them were hauled off to concentration camps .
•·How much weight they lost I could not estimate. Before the end
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of the war, I myself went from 208 pounds to 115-not very much
for a rather broad frame, five feet ten inches high.
l\'or could we at the Atcneo be concerned only with feeding ourselves. If our profess~on to be follmYers of Christ meant anything,
we had to follow His example of f2eding the poor and the starving.
They were present in ?\Ianila by the tl:ousands. \Ye did what we
could. I assigned several of our priests to supply as best they could
the sisters and the children in a I:!umber of orphanages. And increasingly as the war w2nt on and food became more expensive, I met a
constant stream of visitors asking for a limosna, an alms.
The mere fact th:-~t Filipinos ''"ould ask for assistance indicated to
me how desperate their situation had become. For in my long years
in the islands I h:-~d g:-tined wmc insight into Filipino culture. A
Filipino will not hesitate to ask even a distant cousin for aid. In
their family culture, this is expect2d and the relative simply cannot,
without great loss of face, refuse. But no Filipino, save of the lowest
class, will ever approach a stranger for assistance. It simply is not
done, for it would be a terrible blow to the Filipino psyche, a
humiliating loss of d!gnidad. That obviously educated Filipinos
approached me, ,vhom they did net know, and asked for aid showed
the terrible conditions in which they lived.
To get food for ourselves and others we had to go to the black
market. For of course a bbc~z market quickly appeared, and one
could buy anything he wanted-for a price. I recall that in May,
1942, when the war had been on only a few months, we sent to
the orphanage run by the American Good Shepherd nuns 125
dozen fresh eggs. This was something of a coup, for fresh eggs
were already almost unattainable. But it was also a coup for the
black marketeer; he charged the equivalent of twenty cents American for each egg. Yet his bill was modest compared to later prices.
A year later I learned that Americans confined to Bilibid Prison in
Manila were suffering from malaria and were without medication.
I managed to smuggle in a bottle of 500 quinine tablets, which cost
300 pesos, thirty cents American for each tablet. In August, 1943,
I had smuggled into the prisoners at Fort Santiago 600 multiple
vitamin tablets. These tablets cost 3,000 pesos-two dollars American for each pill.
Our purchasing agent on the black market was an unforgettable
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man, \Valter Bud. A veteran of the German Army in \Vorld \Var I,
he had become a soldier of fortune. Converted in Rome (he was
Jewish by birth), he had come to ~.Ianila before the war with letters
of recommendation from our fathers in Italy, and as major-domo at
the Ateneo de ;\Ianila supervised the food services there. \Vith his
experiences in war and revolutions all over the globe, he knew how
to operate in wartime :Manila. I gave him cmta blanca, for I had
absolute confidence in his integrity and reliability. When it appeared
that supplies of food in ~Ianila were absolutely exhausted, he would
go out and return with quantities-not enough, of course, but
without \Valter Bud and our chemist, Fr. Gisel, \Ve would have
starved.
Our expenditures during the long months of occupation continmilly spiraled upward. \Ve needed large quantities of money.
Mter a period of time, in an attempt to establish normal conditions,
the Japanese opened what they called the Bank of Taiwan, which
took over all the assets of the Philippine Trust Company, the Bank
of the Philippine Islands, and other banks. At the time, the Ateneo
de Manila had a considerable amount of money in the bank, the
tuition payments for the second semester. \Vhen we attempted to
withdraw some of these funds, the bank officials who were Filipinos
and very well disposed to the Jesuits, told us that we could not
withdraw the funds because of Japanese regulations which forbade
~ "enemy aliens" to take money out of the bank. One of the officials
of the bank came to my office to explain to me how sorry he was
that it could not be done. :My response \vas that we were not
"enemy aliens." To the bank qfficer, very gracious and cooperative,
I explained we could not be-considered aliens for the very simple
reason that the sovereignty of the country could not change during
the war. It could not be done until peace terms had been arranged.
Hence, Americans could correctly be considered "enemy nationals"
but not "enemy aliens" on territory which was still technically under
American sovereignty. Moreover, I explained to the official that the
money was not American money; that is, it was not national money
of any kind, but it was ecclesiastical propctty which was not national
but supra-national. This argument obviously appealed to him and
at once he said I should write a letter to that effect.
I did and addressed it to the Japanese High Command. One
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could never address a letter to any officer of the Japanese Armed
Forces personally, because the Japar.ese commanders did not publish their names. Letters consequently were always addressed to the
Japanese High Command. i\Iy letter said something as follows:
"The writer of this letter is an American. He is, however, the
administrator of ecclesiastical property of the Church of Rome. Part
of this property are the funds in the bank at the present moment.
Ecclesiastical property is not national property. It is not American,
nor Spanish, nor Italian, nor Japanese. It is not national, but supranational. The American government understood this when, before
the war, they wished to freeze the funds of the German and Spanish
Missionaries in the Philippines. I immediately went to the American
High Commissioner (Francis B. Sayre) and also got in touch with
Washington by long distance phone and explained the concept of
ecclesiastical property. The American government sent orders to
the U. S. High Commisisoner in Manila to unfreeze the accounts
of the German and Spanish religious orders in the Islands. I expect
the magnanimous Japanese High Command will treat the ecclesiastical property of the Church of Rome with the same justice and
consideration as did the U. S. government." Not only did I send this
letter to the Japanese High Command but also I sent copies to the
bank. ":VIagnanimous" was a very favorite adjective of the Japanese.
They were always referring to themselves as the "magnanimous
Japanese High Command," "the magnanimous Japanese Army," etc.
The Japanese magnanimous High Command checked the veracity
of my statements by documents in the bank, then gave orders that
we were to draw out a certain proportion of this money every month.
The :Maryknoll Sisters had also tried to draw out some funds but
of course had been refused as enemy aliens. I suggested the letter
as above to Sr. Trinita, the Superioress, and it had the same success.
One thing I observed about the Japanese mentality is that they
Were impressed by logic in argumentation.
Residence certificates
After some months of occupation, the Japanese proclaimed that
all enemy aliens must get a residence certificate at the cost of 10
Pesos per person. At that time we had approximately 100 American
Jesuits in the Ateneo. At 10 pesos each, this would mean we would
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have to spend about 1,000 pesos which we could not spare. \Ve had
no money to waste on residence certificates. I decided therefore
not to make any application for such certificates, though some of
the fathers were quite anxious aboat this and strongly advised me
to comply. Indeed, my good and loyal and courageous friend, Bro.
Xavier of the LaSalle Brothers, came to me and urged me to get
the certificates. His advice made a very deep impression on me
because he had tremendous courage and was defying the Japanese
on other points. He was a British subject and felt he had to register,
which he did. I explained to Bro. Xavier that we American Jesuits
were not in the same category because, being a British subject, he
was indeed an ePemy alien, but we Americans were not enemy
alienS: I explained that we were enemy nationals, but not aliens. I
was·<iepending here upon that logic of the Japanese which I referred
to above. Bro. Xavier chuckled at my semantics but he continued
to urge me to comply with the Japanese order because of his anxiety
for the safety of the American Jesuits. But \Ve were never called
upon to use the argument and were saved about 1,000 pesos.
The funds in the Bank of Taiwan, doled out to us in monthly
installments, could not possibly meet our expenditures and were
fairly rapidly exhausted. \Ve could, of course, receive no money from
the United States, and our usual sources of income in the islands
had dried up completely or dwindled to a trickle.
Fortunately the Filipino people came magnificently to our aid.
One source of income before the war had been the donations of
those who had frequented the chapel of the Ateneo de Manila for
religious services. During tl~e..e'c;cnpation we continued our schedule
of services, though we faced an unusual problem. The Philippines
produce no wine, and we had to stretch our extant stock for the
indefinite future for our normal sources of supply from overseas
were cut off. \Ve rationed our supply carefully. Priests saying :Mass
would use no more than twelve drops, measured out by an eye·
dropper. The Japanese sentries at our gate must soon have become
used to the crowds of Filip~nos wl:o passed by them towards our
chapel. And these good Christians contributed liberally to the collection plate; one unknown benefactor dropped in a 500 peso note
every week. \Ve learned later that our good contributor was Mrs .
.Jose de Leon; she was affectionately known to all her family and
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friends as "Dona Natty." Others would bring in food, possibly only
a papaya or two or a bunch of bananas.
Still other Filipinos would come to my office and make contributions, at times quite large. Otl:ers would offer me large sums as
interest-free loans to be repaid after the war. Some of these loans
were, of course, not completely disinterested. They would often be
made in Japanese occupation pesos, h.11own commonly as "Mickey
Mouse" money. \Vhen the Japanese 'vere expelled from the Philippines, this money would become 'vorthless paper. But until the day
of liberation came, the money would circulate, and I could find very
good uses for it. Still others were taking out insurance. If, after the
war, they were accused of being collaborators, they could educe
the evidence of loans to the American Jesuits to prove that they
were true patriots. And those who offered contributions or loans
did so at very real peril of their lives. The set Japanese policy was
to degrade the Americans in the eyes of the Filipinos, and a Filipino
who offered assistance to an American did so literally at the risk
of his head. Consequently many of those who loaned me money
refused to take receipts which, if the Japanese discovered them,
might cost them their liberty if not their lives. These loans I consider a tribute to the Filipinos who made them, and, in retrospect,
quite flattering to myself. I must have had the reputation of being
an honest man.
On one occasion a Chinese Filipino, who had loaned me 10,000
pesos, sent his son to me to report that shortly after he had made
the loan, he had been picked up by the military police. They gave
him a softening up period in the horrible dungeons of Fort Santiago
and then interrogated him. The Japanese wanted to tie him in with
me. If they succeeded, matters would go very badly with him
indeed. As with all others who bad advanced me money, the
Chinese understood that I would tell the Japanese nothing. His
interrogators tried a not uncommon trick. They told him that I
also was in Fort Santiago and had confessed and that if the Chinese
also confessed they would treat him gently. He almost took the bait.
He later told me 'but then I close my eyes and see your mouth
and I say to myself, 'that fella say no, he mean no.'" He refused to
confess, and the Japanese had to turn him loose.
Other Filipinos came to my office not to make loans or gifts but
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to ask for assistance. Only the direst necessity will compel a Filipino
to beg, and therefore we assisted all who came to the best of our
ability. Consequently, there was a constant stream of money going
out to the poor. Our only qualification was "destitution," and we
relied upon God to provide. And He did, of course, at the usual
tenfold or hundredfold. \Ve used to say, without irreverence: "Cast
your bread upon the waters, and it will come back to you as ham
sandwiches." For example, one morning at ten o'clock \'ve gave our
last fifty pesos to a completely indigent elderly gentleman, who had
formerly taught at the University of Santo Tomas. Just before noon
an alumnus who had previously never given us a centavo walked
in and handed me a 500 peso bill. Another morning we gave away
the last twenty pesos in the house; tl1at afternoon we received a
gift of. a basket of eggs and 225 pesos from the Carmelite Sisters.
On another occasion into my office came Mrs. Lucas, a charming
Filipino lady, escorted by her daughter. At the time there was
absolutely nothing in the kitty, not even a thin dime. As I sought
for phrases to explain to the ladies that I could not, at the time,
give them a limosna (alms), ~Irs. Lucas plunked down on my desk
a package of money-10,000 pesos. Very profusely and gratefully
I began to thank her, and offered to give her a receipt, \Vith a
promise to repay after the war. A bit brusquely, she cut me short:
~ "I don't want repayment. And don't thank me. I'm not giving this
money to you. I'm giving it to God. You have the job of giving it
out as God wants." I learned that this mulier foltis had given another 14,000 pesos to the Spanish sisters who desperately needed
the money to support the orpl1ans in their Hospicio de San Jose.
When I asked Mrs. Lucas wh~t should be our story in case the
Japanese found out, she answer: "The Japanese will not find out
anything from me. All you have to do is keep your mouth shut."
Thus I translate her incomparably more polite Spanish: "Calla te."
VI) WE
AID INTERNEES, PRISONERS AND REFUGEES
AS sooN AS THE JAPANESE entered Manila, the Jesuits there found
themselves in the business of aiding internees and prisoners of war
in Japanese camps, and escaped soldiers and refugees in the swamp
and mountains of Luzon. \Vhen the Japanese rounded up the
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Americans in metropolitan Manila most were incarcerated in the
major internee camp at the University of Santo Tomas. But in the
early days of the occupation, groups were to be found in various
locations about the city.
I have mentioned that in January, 1942, a large group of Americans, mostly women and children, were imprisoned temporarily on
the campus of the University of the Philippines, just across the
street from the Ateneo de Manila. And, as an indication of what was
to come, the Japanese would not provide them with bare necessities. Therefore I made the first of many raids on the supplies at
the Ateneo de ~Ianila. The willing hands of two Filipino scholastics,
Horacia de la Costa and Miguel Bernad, transported a supply of
blankets, mosquito nets and some twenty cartons of food and milk
to the prisoners. The scholastics were allowed to make two deliveries, but the Japanese guards refused to permit more. As I have
mentioned, we also supplied food and drink to the staff and patients
of Red Cross Hospital # 8 on our campus, and to about seventy
American civilians who had taken refuge with us.
Conditions in the Santo Tomas internment camp were to become
horrible, but they were bad from the beginning. In January of 1942
the Philippine Chapter of the American Red Cross sent out an
appeal for food for the internees. \Ve assembled a large shipment
of assorted foods, some 160 cases of canned goods, and turned it
over to the Red Cross. \Ve demanded and expected no reimbursement for our food. But the acting head of the Red Cross, Judge
Manuel Camus, gave us a check for 9,000 pesos, with instructions
to hold it until the end of the war. The check vanished in the
maelstrom of war. \Ve were ready to answer other appeals from
the Red Cross, but the Japanese would allow no more.
Yet for several months thereafter, I sent other supplies and money
to the Santo Tomas camp. My intermediary was a wonderful man,
Eitel Baumann. Born in Korea of a German father and Belgian
mother, and a naturalized Filipino citizen, Baumann could speak
Japanese and was extremely useful in dealing with the occupying
forces. He fixed two large baskets on his bicycle, loaded them with
canned goods, and pedaled away. In all, he must have made sixty
trips across the Fasig River to Santo Tomas. On each trip, he also
carried about 150 pesos for the use of the internees. On other occa-
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sions, I used several priest intermediaries to get thousands of pesos
into the camp.
After I myself became a prisoner in Santo Tomas on January 13,
1944, the Jesuits continued to smuggle money and food into the
camp. I recall on one occasion a Filipino lady who received permission to visit an internee slipped me 1,0GO pesos which Fr. Greer
had asked her to deliver. Other goods and money came in over the
wall of the residence of the Dominican Fathers who conducted
Santo Tomas University before the war, through the agency of Luis
Alcuaz, the Filipino secretary of tl-c Dominican Father Provincial.
Still more came through the Santa Catrrlina d::w:mito_ry, a residence
conducted by nuns just o~;tside tl1e Santo Tomas compound but
requisitioned for tl~e use of tl'e camp. Acc.::ss could be had to this
buitding from outside the pcr;met!'r of tbe camp, and our Fathers
sent in supplies and moi'ey tLro:Jg~1 this l~ole.
Other American internees were lce1d prism'.ers at the Hospicio
de San Jose, an orphanage condected b)· the Sisters of Charity on
an island in the Fasig River. Early in 19 J2 the Japanese took over
a section of the orphanage and pbccd t!:crc about fifty aged and
infirm American men. On many oecrrsions I sent these men food,
medicines and money. Usually t!'e supplies would be picked up by
a Maryknoll priest, Fr. Timothy Daly ( btcr a prismccr of the Communists in China), on his visits to t~:e At!?l:eo. On other occasions
my assistants, Fr. Greer m~d Fr. ?\IcNic~'o1as, \Yonld make the
deliveries. Of co~use, v:e could net feed jest the American intcrr.ees
while the sisters and the orp1;ar.s went hurgry. Consequently, we
supplied what food we cou1d: .not only to this orphmage, but also
to one conducted by the Gcod Sl;cpberd nuns. For the Good
Shepherd convent, my chief ag:nt was Fr. Edward Nuttall, who
managed in 1943 to deliver to the sislcrs, bcsicles other supplies,
about 100 bags of rice and 20 bags of sugar.
Prisoners of war
\Ve also did what we could for military priwners of war. In the
early months of the war, wmc /un::;ric:m soldiers were held in
:Manila. I learned that a small groc'P was con5.ncd in the English
Club on 1\Iarquis de Comillas Street. Since a friend of mine was
.'among the prisoners, I personally made about four trips to the club
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carrying food. Hundreds of other American prisoners were confined
under heavy guard (I believe it was in a school building, in the
town of Pasay, just south of .Manila) and still more a mile or two
further south at Las Pinas. These captives the Japanese used as
laborers on Nichols Airfield. Up to the time of my imprisonment
early in 1944, I sent to these soldiers, to help them survive, monies
in excess of 50,000 pesos, which of course had to be smuggled in.
Other American military prisoners were used by the Japanese as
laborers in the port area of .l\Ianila itself throughout the war. On
several occasions I was able to have smuggled in to them money
and medicines . .l\Iy agent was Humphrey O'Leary, an ancient veteran of the Spanish-American war, who after the campaigns in the
Philippines had married a Filipina and settled down in the islands.
But in heavily populated .l\Ianila the guards watched these men with
special care. If they were caught receiving help from outside, they
were treated to special severity. Indeed, the prisoners managed to
get a message to me to send no more aid. Several Americans who
had been caught with supplies from outside had already been
severely beaten.
The Japanese kept other American military prisoners in the civil
jail in Manila, Bilibid Prison on Azcarraga Street. Among the
prisoners was Fr. 'Villiam Cummings, a .l\Iaryknoll missionary who
had been commissioned a chaplain in the U. S. Army when the war
broke out. Through the good offices of a friendly Japanese, he could
occasionally leave the prison to visit the Maryknoll sisters who were
then interned in the Assumption Convent. Through Fr. Cummings,
I was able to get money and medicines into the soldiers until Father
died, still a prisoner of the Japanese. Through some Filipina girls
who had a contact at Bilibid, I continued to smuggle additional
food into the prisoners at Bilibid.
Still other Americans were held in a section of the New Bilibid
prison in the town of Muntinlupa, some twenty miles south of
Manila. The Catholic chaplain for the Filipino civilian prisoners
Was a Filipino Jesuit, Pedro Dimaano. The Director of Prisons was
Maj. Eriberto i\Iisa, a very loyal Filipino and an Ateneo alumnus.
With his help, Fr. Dimaano was able to visit the section of the
prison where the American soldiers were detained, and bring in
food, medicines, and money under the noses of the Japanese guards.
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Another contact I used was a guerrilla colonel named Baja who
managed to get supplies into Muntinlupa; this means of access
ended, however, when the Japanese captured and executed Col. Baja.
After the infamous Death March, large numbers of American
and Filipino military prisoners were confined in Camp O'Donnell,
Tarlac Province, near the town of Capas. \Ve heard of the horrors
and sufferings endured by the captives on the Death March, and the
reports of the death of thousands in the camp from abuse and
starvation. I decided to send these poor men large quantities of
food, medicine and money. Food and medicines in Manila were
becoming scarcer and increasingly expensive. \Ve were compelled
to buy, and we continued to buy, at increasingly stiff prices.
From April to July of 1942, we were able to send five or six large
shipments to Camp O'Donnell. Walter Bud, our invaluable buyer,
would round up the supplies and assemble them at the Ateneo. We
were able to do this due to the incredible inefficiency of the Japanese. Since the Ateneo campus was an internment camp, Japanese
guards were stationed there twenty-four hours a day. But to the day
the Nipponese moved in, in July of 1943, they never discovered a
secondary gate from the compound on Dakota Street! Nor, for that
matter, did they ever discover a stock of gasoline. The commercial
gasoline companies had destroyed their stocks of gasoline before
the Japanese entered Manila. Consequently, it was in very short
supply and very expensive. Before the war we had constructed on
the campus a small cement building some distance from the major
buildings as a fire precaution f9r the storage of gasoline, and there
we kept about twenty drums of gasoline. This gas proved invaluable
in the transportation of shipments to Camp O'Donnell and later to
Camp Cabanatuan.
Since obviously Americans could not safely take the food and
other supplies to the camps, we relied on a wonderful group of
loyal and immensely brave Filipinos and Filipinas to make the
deliveries. Dozens of these heroic people came to our assistance.
At least three of these volunteers, Mr. and Mrs. Antonio Escoda
and Mr. Enrique Albert, paid with their lives; they were arrested
and executed by the Japanese for their devotion to their fellowmen.
These devoted friends would slip into the Ateneo by the un~uarded gate, load up the truck, and head for the camp. I recall
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Mrs. Natividad de Leon ("Doiia Natty") and her charming daughters (~vir. de Leon was imprisoned in Fort Santiago) working like
stevedores to load the truck. Often on its trips to camp Miss Lulu
Reyes would ride shotgun. I recall warning her to be careful and to
take it easy, both for reasons of her health and the fear that the
Japanese might retaliate because of her friendliness with Americans.
But she was invaluable; when the truck was stopped by Japanese
patrols or blocked by J apancse officials, she would blast them, not
with buckshot, but with her charming and disarming ways. The
truck \Vould get through. Later, J\Jrs. de Leon and Miss Reyes were
decorated by the U. S. Government for their services. Others, as
Jesus de Veyra and Susana Velasquez, were equally worthy of
honor.
By these willing hands we were able to ship to Camp O'Donnell
over 100 sacks and cartons of food-sugar, coffee, dry milk, beans,
canned meats-and medicines: quinine, sulfathiazole, ascorbic acid
tablets, vitamin concentrates, aspirin, cotton, bandages, gauze, etc.
I recall that included with one shipment of medicines were twelve
bottles of that very good Spanish brandy, Pedro Domecq. Further,
large sums of money were sent to the prisoners. On one occasion,
I recall, I gave J\lr. Escoda 15,000 pesos to pass on.
Beginning about June of 1942, the Japanese gradually transferred
the American military prisoners from Camp O'Donnell to a newly
opened prison camp at Cabanatuan in Nueva Ecija Province. Our
assistance thereupon was shifted from the old to the new camp,
and we continued to make shipments until the end of 1943. How
many shipments we made to Cabanatuan I cannot recall, but they
were large and continuous.
For these deliveries, we needed the permission of the Japanese
authorities. \Vhile authorizations for food and medicines were relatively simple to obtain, the Japanese were much more stringent on
donations of money. Some we managed to smuggle in. On one occasion, :\1r. Escoda was discovered to have hidden a sum of money
in the bottom of a box of altar breads; the Japanese confiscated
the funds and gave him a severe beating. Usually permission was
secured in advance from the Japanese for deliveries of money. At
times permission was long delayed; once it had to be secured from
Japan. In all, we sent about 150,000 pesos to the prisoners at
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Cabanatuan. \Vhile the money was usually entrusted to Victor and
Josefina Escoda, they were not our only agents. At times we used
the services of Fr. Budenbruck, S.V.D. A German citizen and therefore considered an ally by the Japanese, he had special permission
from the Japanese to visit the war prisoners at Cabanatuan. Eventually, like the Escodas, Fr. Budenbruck was arrested and executed
by the Japanese.
The Columban Fathers
At times we passed money on through the Columban Fathers,
mostly Irishmen, who also were engaged to the best of their ability
in the dangerous business of assisting internees and prisoners. ~'!any
times' Fr. John Lalor, who was killed in the Battle of ~Ianila in
February, 1945, took sums for transmission either to the prison
camps or to the guerrillas. On one occasion, I recall giving Fr. John
Heneghan, the superior of the Columban Fathers in the Philippines,
1,000 pesos for the purchase of medicines. Fr. Heneghan and several
of his priests were arrested by the Japanese military late in 1944;
they were never seen again. \Vhat happened to them we never
learned.
It was set policy, and I insisted always on the point, that the
recipients of aid should not give written receipts for the goods and
~ money they received. Still a number of prisoners did insist on
expressing their gratitude in writing. Invariably, we at once destroyed these messages, for they were dangerous to us if they were
discovered by Japanese security forces.
The business of sending aid .to American internees and prisoners
of war was risky enough. Much more dangerous was the business
of aiding escaped prisoners and refugees. But we found ourselves
engaged in these perilous occupations from the very day that the
Japanese military appeared at our gates on January 2, 1942. For in
the Ateneo compound at that time were six American soldiers who
had become separated from their units. \Ve provided them with
mufti, and hid them for several months until we could smuggle thern
out of the city to guerrilla units. But there seemed to be an unending stream of prisoners who managed to escape and who appeared
at the unguarded gate of the Ateneo. Until July of 1943, when the
.'Japanese moved permanently into the compound, on any particular
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date there would be two or three fugitive American soldiers hidden
somewhere on the premises.
After the surrender of Bataan and the Death .March, hundreds
of American and Filipino officers and men either avoided capture
or made their escape from their Japanese guards. The fugitives hid
in various places, particularly in the halls and swamps of Pampanga
Province and in the hills of adjacent Zambales Province. Numbers
of these men were gradually collected into hideout camps in the
mountains behind Floridablanca. J\lany were in extremely poor
physical condition, due to \VOtmds or sickness. After they had been
restored to the semblance of good health, the Filipinos among them
could merge into the civilian population. The Americans, however,
had to remain in hiding until J\lacArthur returned, and they needed
reliable sources of food, medicine and clothing.
I soon found myself a major source of supplies for these camps.
Vividly I recall the day I became involved. Into my office on Padre
Faura Street, in April of 1942, came an elderly Filipino, who introduced himself as Alejandro Lopez and unfolded his story. A number
of American officers who had escaped from the Death March had
entered his town of Guaga, Pampanga, and had sought refuge with
the local Catholic pastor. He had approached Mr. Lopez, who
agreed to take in the men; his house was less likely to be searched
by the Japanese than the rectory. Mr. Lopez moved his family to
another location, to save them from execution if the Japanese discovered the soldiers while the family was present, turned over his
home to the Americans, and hurried into Manila to the Ateneo. He
carried with him a written message from one of the escaped prisoners, Fr. John Duffy, an Army chaplain, who asked for aid for his
fellow escapees.
Mr. Lopez appeared to be the finest type of Filipino gentleman,
but I knew nothing about him. While I was interiorly debating
whether he was what he appeared or a Japanese agent, into the
office came Dr. Ramon Santos, an Ateneo alumnus whom I knew
well. Fortunately Dr. Santos knew Mr. Lopez and vouched for his
bona fides.
Dr. Santos was, I recall, in an extremely belligerent mood and
Was ready to undertake any action against the Japanese occupiers.
Be had come to discuss the matter with me. On that and a second
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~
visit he paid me, I did my best to caution him against foolhardy
risks. But Dr. Santos was not the type to conceal his strongly held
opinions. Soon he was incarcerated by the military police in their
most feared prison, Fort Santiago. Soon after, his wife "·as presented
by the Japanese with a quantity of hair apparently shaved from
her husband's head. By this gruesome memento, ;\Irs. Santos learned
she was a widow.
'Vhile the three of us were discussing what to Jo with ;\lr.
Lopez's escapees, into the office walked yet another Filipino. At
first I did not recognize him, but when he introduced himself, I
recalled him well. I had not seen him for years, since the days when
he had been one of my students at the Ateneo de ~Ianila. He was
Vicente Bernia.
:Wernia quickly solved Lopez's problem. He willingly and even
joyfully offered to take the prisoners off ~Ir. Lopez's hands and add
them to his other groups. For Vicente had come with a similar
problem. He was hiding groups of escapees in the swamps of Pampanga near his home. He wanted to get them out of the swamps and
other unhealthy hiding places into organized camps and to supply
with with food, medicine, and funds. Of course, I agreed to help
in every way possible. On that occasion, I scraped together what
I could of money, medicines and clothing, and with a feeling of
relief, I saw the trio depart.
A few days later Vicente was back. He reported he had placed
Fr. Duffy in a convento of sisters. The other refugees in the Lopez
home he had disguised as best he could in the usual costume of
Filipino peasants. He theret'lpon loaded them in a horse-drawn
carrotela and set out for the boondocks. On the way into the hinterlands they several times ran into Japanese patrols. The way Vicente
handled the problem made me gulp; it also indicated the irrepressible quality of this incredibly brave Filipino. When the Japanese approached the carrotela, Vicente, who had pickeu up a few
words of Japanese, would jump off the wagon, welcome the patrol
as long-lost brothers, and shout in Japanese something equivalent
to "Three cheers for Japan." At the same time the American officers
from their places in the wagon would bow low-very low indeedwithout removing the large Filipino peasant hats. These served to
. obscure their faces while Vicente was distracting the Japanese
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soldiers with his vociferous protestations of devotion and admiration
for the Empire of the Rising Sun. By this devious device Vicente
safely escorted the officers to a secure location.
For about eighteen months, to the end of 1943, I continued to
send supplies out to the Bernia-Fassoth camps. On several occasions,
they were conveyed by Filipino scholastics, Horacio de la Costa
and Pablo Guzman-Rivas. On other occasions, money and medicines
were sent out to the escapees through the medium of a Filipino
secular priest, whose name I cannot recall.
After the priest had made several trips to the Ateneo, we decided
that it was highly dangerous and unnecessarily risky for both him
and ourselves if he were seen coming to the Ateneo regularly.
The code
Thereupon we hit upon a simple code. The Pasig River, running
roughly from east to west, cuts through the heart of the city of
Manila. A northwest section of the city was commonly known as
Tondo, a southwest section, as Malate, the southeast, as Singalong
and the northeast as Binondo. \Vhen the padre 'vould come into
Manila, he would immediately phone me. After the usual pleasantries, he would ask me to supply him with so many hundreds or
thousands of hosts for Mass. "Hosts" of course meant pesos. And
he would say that he would, until a set hour, say three or four in
the afternoon, be at the parish church in Tondo. \Vhen he said
Tondo, he meant Malate; if he said Malate, I knew he meant Singalong, and so on. It was a very easy sequence code.
I would round up the money and, frequently, medicines which
were almost impossible to obtain, and summon Eitel Baumann, one
of the most reliable and loyal men with whom I had ever dealt.
Eitel would go to the designated church and take a pew some distance from the waiting padre, who would be reading his breviary.
Eitel would place the package in his pew and after his prayers (and
he used to tell me: "Oh how I really prayed, Father, for I was
surely scared"), would leave the church. The padre waited a good
ten or fifteen minutes to make sure that Eitel had gotten away.
For if the Japanese had caught Eitel and brought him back to the
church, the padre, still kneeling in his pew, would be safe. When
the time had passed, the padre would go to Eitel's pew, pick up
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the package, and depart by another door. In this fashion we supplied
the padre for some months. If you are tempted to think that this
did not take courage to an outstanding degree in Eitel and the
padre, then thank God you never had to do it and pray you never
will. All during such a rendezvous, I, back in the Ateneo, was
worried and scared beyond description.
On several occasions, an American soldier dressed in civilian
clothes walked into my office on Padre Faura Street. He could get
away with it since he was a Spanish-speaking New }.Iexican of
sallow complexion. On this first visit, I 'vas fairly sure of his genuinity. He carried a verbal message from the American officer who
had sent him which recalled several instances when I had met the
officer before hostilities and which the young soldier could not
possibly have known about. The youngster escaped from the Death
March and had been taken in by a very good Spanish family residing
in the southern section of ~lanila. He was acting as liaison between
a number of escapees outside the city and the groups in ~lanila
which were assisting them. Of course, we supplied what assistance
we could.
One day a lady of the family which sheltered him came to me
in great fear. The soldier had fallen seriously sick with dysentery.
\Vhile the family nursed the boy, they were understandably fearful
- not only for their own safety but for that of the youngster. It was
dangerous for the soldier to go out in the streets, but for him to
remain in the house at that particular time was even more dangerous. For the Japanese had formed their '110usehold associations," a
typical totalitarian device which required families to report on their
neighbors. No one could h'llow -when someone in his household association would give evidence, deliberately or inadvertently, of the
presence of an escaped American soldier. The woman begged me to
get the boy out of J\lanila and into the custody of the guerrillas
operating in the mountains.
The major problem was to get the soldier through the Japanese
barriers at all exits from the city. The occupiers had another control
device, residence certificates. The soldier did not have one and in
his weakened condition he could not possibly go through the various
secret exits used by the guerrillas. He would have to be carried
.'from the city in a conveyance through the Japanese posts. l-Ie would
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need a residence certificate.
Word had reached me that if residence certificates were needed,
the man to approach was Claudio Tee Han Kee. Claudio I knew
well; he had gone through the Ateneo from grade school on and
graduated from the college summa cum laude. I got word to Claudio
I would like to see him. \Vhen he came to my office, I explained
the problem. I stressed its urgency, hoping that Claudio would be
able to produce the document in three or four days. He simply
asked if I wanted a certificate for a Chinese or a Spaniard. \Vhen
I answered him, he pulled out of his pocket the required certificate,
filled in the soldier's name, and that was that. The boy got safely
away. And no doubt Claudio continued to walk about the city
carrying in his pockets evidence that would literally cost him his
head if he were ever searched by the Japanese.
For many months the usual method of getting supplies to the
refugee camps was as follows: the supplies would be assembled on
the Padre Faura campus, Vicente Bernia would appear with a
vehicle at a prearranged hour at the unguarded side gate of the
campus, and the cartons and sacks would be loaded as quietly and
expeditiously as possible. Indeed, even most of the Jesuits on the
campus never knew until after the war what had been going on.
Vicente made about thirty trips. In all he carried away well over
300 cases of food and 40 cases of medicines, as well as large bundles
of clothing. On each trip I \Vould give him four or five thousand
pesos. With the cash, Vicente would buy more supplies in Manila,
and use the bills of sale, in case he was stopped by Japanese, to
cover both the supplies he purchased and the goods he had picked
up at the Ateneo. Other monies were sent to the refugees through
the agency of Eitel Baumann, as I described above, and still more
was sent through another brave man, Nelson V. Sinclair, who had
his own contacts. In all, besides the food, medicine and clothing, we
supplied the Bernia-Fossoth camps with about 200,000 pesos.
At one time the situation became so dangerous that I became
extremely worried. Vicente was so regular a visitor to the side gate
of the Ateneo that I feared the Japanese would catch on, with
incalculable but regrettable consequences for the people in the
Ateneo compound. Therefore I told Bernia that we had done all we
could, the camps were fairly well supplied, and the escapees could
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use the guns he had gotten them to hunt their own food in the
forests. In no uncertain terms, I told him not to come back again.
Lo and behold! Two weeks later I looked up at a knock on my
screen door. It was Vicente. If he expected a warm welcome, he
was not entirely wrong, for he received a blistering reception. I
was furious. Nor was I calmed when he told me he had come just
to tell me the story of his last load of supplies. Eventually I became
quiet enough for him to tell his tale; he had gotten the last truckload of supplies up to the town of Floridablanca on a Japanese
military truck driven by a Japanese soldier! When I stopped laughing, I found Vicente had conned me into continuing supplies to
his camps.
But sometime about :May, 1943, the Nipponese, possibly tipped
ofL by an informer, raided one of the camps when Vicente was
pre~~nt. He was shot to death and his brother, Arturo, met the same
fate.
A hideout
Besides the Bernia-Fossoth camps on the Pampanga-Zambales
border, we supplied Americans who had set up a hideout near
Antipolo, Rizal Province, not very far from Manila. In this camp
were not only American military men, but civilians who had evaded
internment by the Japanese or who had escaped from concentration
camps.
The usual method of contact with these men was an extremely
brave American civilian who had long managed the haciendas which
provided the income used .to. support San Jose Seminary, Nelson
Vance Sinclair. \Vhen the Jap-anese rounded up American civilians
into Santo Tomas internment camp in January, 1942, Sinclair was
among the number. But his health was so bad that in April, 1942, he
was transferred to the Philippine General Hospital. His hospital bed
soon became a central point in the supply of escaped Americans
outside Manila.
Since the Philippine General Hospital was only down the street
from the Ateneo, I could be at his bedside in five minutes from rny
office. And I had every excuse to make frequent visits to a sick
friend. His Filipino friends too could and did come to visit him, including some friends he was meeting for the first time. Clearly
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it was extremely dangerous to have the Filipinos who were intermediaries between myself and the Antipolo groups come too often
to the Ateneo campus. Vance and I came to an arrangement. \Vhen
I would visit him, I would bring in quanties of money. When his
Filipino friends visited him, the money somehow vanished.
The arrangement, of course, could not have worked without the
knowledge and consent of the brave Filipino doctors and nurses
who staffed the Philippine General Hospital. Never once, in the
long months the method was used, did we have to -fear a leak in
the absolutely necessary secrecy. Among those who actively helped
were the head of the hospital, Dr. Agerico Sison, the superintendent
of nurses, r-.Jrs. Adriano, and Miss Agra and Miss Asperilla, both
nurses.
Several of the agents Vance used were eventually captured and
killed by the Japanese. Invariably they were Filipinos, with one
exception. Maj. Walter Cushing used to enter Manila openlydressed as a Jesuit priest! Obviously at one of our houses he had
secured one of our white cassocks. To make his cover complete,
he carried the black book, often seen in the hands of priests, the
breviary. Only in the Major's case, the breviary was a dictionary!
Eventually he was executed, as was a brave Filipino lieutenant in
the guerrillas, Concepcion, who frequently visited Sinclair's bedside.
Mter this operation had been going on for some months, the
Japanese Kempetai suddenly appeared at the Philippine General
Hospital, pulled Sinclair out of his bed, and hauled him off to Fort
Santiago. My worry, which was intense, was nothing compared to
what Sinclair had to endure.
For Fort Santiago was infamous. Here the Kempetai housed the
prisoners they considered most dangerous, and here they used every
means to break them down. Not only was there crowding that
reminded one of the Black Hole of Calcutta, there was unspeakable
filth, there were innumerable vermin, there was starvation, there
Was endless questioning, there were constant beatings, there were
the most bestial tortures.
Sinclair entered Fort Santiago a sick man. Yet, according to the
testimony of our Ateneo alumni who were fellow-prisoners there,
he was treated savagely. No other American, according to our
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tures inflicted on Sinclair. The Ateneo alumni would h"IlOW. So many
were entertained as unwilling guests in Fort Santiago, they called
it Alumni Hall. For nine long months, Sinclair endured and opened
not his mouth. His condition became such that the Kempetai decided
he could not possibly survive another day. To avoid having him die
on their hands, they shipped him back to Santo Tomas internment
camp, where the camp officials at once transferred him back to the
Philippine General Hospital, so that he might die in peace. But
Sinclair refused to die. Horribly emaciated and battered-later,
when he was able to get out of bed, he could only get about on
two canes-this incredibly brave man at once re-established his
contacts and renewed his work from his hospital bed.
For Sinclair and many others I would gladly have done what I
wa~r able to do on only one occasion-bribe a prisoner out of Fort
Santiago. She was Mrs. Margaret Utinsky, whose husband had died
as a prisoner of war in a prison camp. Known as "Miss U," Mrs.
Utins1.1' had been performing incredible services for the Americans
in the underground. She had sold her jewels and all her personal
goods to raise money for the relief of the Americans. She was not
one of our agents in relief work. Her main contacts were with Fr.
Heneghan and his Columban Fathers who, as I have mentioned,
were seized by the Japanese and vanished without trace. I knew
her, of course, and what she was doing, and I was very concerned
when she was taken into Fort Santiago.
I learned that if the proper Japanese officer were approached with
adequate money, :Mrs. UtiP"sky would be transferred to another
place of detention. I recall th~ devious channels through which the
money-5,000 pesos-got into the hands of the right member of
the Kempetai. I passed the money to Sr. Isabel, an American Maryknoll sister who was working in the Remedios Hospital, whose
chaplain was the Columban Fr. John Lalor. Fr. Lalor visited another
hospital, Doctors' Hospital, where he passed the bribe on to a
patient, an American named Johnson, a member of the Maritirne
Commission for the Philippines, and later executed by the Japanese.
Mr. Johnson turned the money over to a Filipino named Arrnasetegui, who in turn gave it to the Filipina woman who was friendly
with the Kempetai officer. Almost at once, Mrs. Utins1.1' was dis-
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covered to be sick, and transferred from Fort Santiago to Doctors'
Hospital, from which place she fled to the mountains.
Fr. Sullivan
At times, and particularly during the nerve-wracking months
when Sinclair was in Fort Santiago, I got money to the groups at
Antipolo and other hideouts through a Jesuit at the Ateneo, Fr.
Russell Sullivan. The intermediaries would slip in by the undiscovered gate at the Padre Faura campus and as unobtrusively as
possible go to Fr. Sullivan's room. For reasons of security, I did not
keep large sums of money in my quarters. If the Japanese raided
the Ateneo, that was the first place they would search. ·when we
had ready cash in large quantities, we would at times hide it in the
attic; usually we kept a large amount in the false bottom of a trunk
in Fr. Sullivan's room.
Fr. Sullivan, another man of calm courage during the war, had a
way of passing on money to the agents of the camps so that we
could dissimulate having given money to fugitives. It was a method
I often used myself. \Vhen the agent entered the room, the padre
would insist that he had nothing to give and that, even if he did, he
could not take the chance because of fear of Japanese reprisals.
While thus protesting, he would pull open the top drawer of his
desk, revealing a stack of bills, and walk away from the desk. With
a "Sorry you can't help us, Padre," the intermediary would quietly
pocket the cash and leave.
On other occasions money would be delivered to agents in the
Acacia Soda Fountain, a small lunch room run by \Valter Bud a
few blocks from the Ateneo, and many times deliveries of money
and medicines were made in San Marcelino Church to Pedro Start,
a Filipino who had been adopted by an American doctor.
When I look back on the risks we took, I still get scared. I thank
God I have had the grace of knowing so many brave Filipinos and
Americans who with incredible bravery risked prison, torture, and
execution to aid their suffering fellow men. I would like to set down
all their names here, but at this late date my memory is too faded.
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VII) WE ARE EXPELLED FROM THE
ATENEO DE MANILA
A YEAR AND A HALF of occupation we Jesuits, both Filipino and
American, and our guests, the priests and religious and the American civilians, lived in relative peace on the Padre Faura campus.
Japanese guards patrolled the main entrance twenty-four hours a
day, and time after countless time Japanese units entered the buildings and inspected the grounds. But for over a year, tl1e Nipponese
were apparently content to leave us in quiet possession of our own
property. There was no repetition of their initial attempt to incarcerate all the American fathers and scholastics in the Santo Tomas
internment camp.
It was too good to last. \Ve felt in our bones that the Japanese
would one day take steps to break up our community and take
over our buildings. Therefore we made plans to beat a strategic
retreat to previously prepared positions. There were several options
open to us. \Ve had at our disposal our retreat house of La Ignaciana
in the Santa Anna district of :Manila and our group of buildings in
Intramuros which comprised the residence known as the Mission
House, the Church of San Ignacio and the Ateneo grade school.
Other options were made available to us through the charity and
graciousness of two religious orders, the Augustinians and the
Vincentians.
The Vincentian Fatl1ers, known in the Philippines as the Paulistas,
conducted the archdiocesan -seminary of ~Ianila in a large building
on San Marcelino Street. Since classes had been suspended during
the war and the seminarians sent home, the Vincentians offered us
accommodations perfectly suited for our scholastics pursuing their
studies. \Ve gratefully accepted. But in case the Japanese were to
expel us from San Marcelino also, we judged it prudent to have a
second prepared position in readiness. \Vc approached the friars at
the convento of San Augustino in Intramuros, situated only a few
steps from our Mission House. The Augustinians had a tremendous,
fortress-like church, the oldest church in Manila and redolent with
history. The friars welcomed us most graciously and offered us the
.' freedom of their buildings.
FOR
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About June of 1943, after yet another inspection by a group of
Japanese, we received a notification from the Japanese magnanimous
High Command that the Imperial Army would take over the main
buildings on the campus as a hospital for Japanese military. Of
course we protested and pulled every string available to have the
order rescinded. The Japanese graciously invited all the Americans
to move into Santo Tomas internment camp, an invitation which
we had absolutely no intention of accepting. They further stated
that the Filipino Jesuits could, if they wished, move into the frame
laboratory buildings in the rear of the campus. This we planned to
do, for we intended to keep at least some toe-hold on our campus.
Eventually we were ejected on the feast of the Sacred Heart,
July 3, 1943. I well recall the date, for it had been predicted by
Fr. Heneghan, the superior of the Columban Fathers, who resided
at the Melate Church near the Ateneo. His argument was a very
spiritual one. He said that anyone who was dedicated to the Sacred
Heart would be called upon for suffering. Now the great feast of
the Sacred Heart was looming, and he felt quite certain that something was going to happen on that day and that it would be an
order to move. He was right.
I felt also that we were due to be moved. Hence I thought it
prudent to make quiet and immediate preparations, just in case.
Two of the fathers drew up a most elaborate sort of plan by which
the beds, books, clothes, furniture, blackboards, etc., would be
marked, carried down and placed in different piles in the patio.
This was a very complicated plan and the logistics of it just seemed
to be impossible.
I fell back then on our experiences at Woodstock College, our
seminary in Maryland. The old-timers of Woodstock remember that
whenever we had a performance, we used the refectory for an auditorium or theater, where we put on concerts and theatricals com. plete with scenery, backdrops, stage curtain and gas footlights. As
soon as supper was finished, everybody rose, put their plates and
cutlery together, wended their way to the scullery, deposited them
there, returned, picked up what was left on the tables and brought
it to the kitchen. Salt and pepper shakers and the cruets of oil and
Vinegar were placed on the window sills nearby, which were high
above the head of the audience. The point is that there seemed to
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be utter confusion to an outside observer. All were hurrying and
scurrying about like ants, without any apparent order; but like
ants, everybody knew just what he was about. After the performance, the dining room would have to be set up for breakfast. Nobody
was assigned to any particular task but everybody turned to-put
out the tables, replaced the chairs, spread the tablecloths, returned
the cruets. In a jiffy, cutlery and plates were on the table. In all
this apparent confusion was an orderly and most expeditious system.
The theater was quickly transformed into a dining room all ready
and set for breakfast. I thought of this experience and decided that
it would be the best method for moving. In other words everybody
was to be responsible for getting his own stuff over to San :Marcelino
seminary. The scholastics formed groups of two or three-two to
carry while one watched over the pile of material in the patio.
Stripping the buildings
At sundown on July 2nd, we received orders that we would have
to be out of the main buildings before one o'clock on the afternoon
of July 3rd. The Japanese evidently believed it was impossible to
think of moving all of the equipment of the school in so short a
time. They expected, consequently, to enter a group of buildings
equipped for their needs.
\Ve were unanimously determined that the Japanese would not
find a group of buildings equipped for their needs. All pitched in
at once, Filipinos and Americans, fathers, scholastics and brothers.
\Ve worked like beavers till· after midnight, caught a few hours
sleep, had Mass and a bite~-of breakfast, and turned again to the
task of stripping the buildings to the bare floors.
At the crack of dawn the Ateneo campus was invaded, not by the
Japanese, but by hundreds of Filipinos. The news of the expulsion
had spread around the town like wildfire. By the dozens and the
scores, men, women and children brushed by the bewildered Japanese sentries at the gate and pitched in to help the padres move. It
was partly a chance for the Filipinos to show the Japanese what
they thought of them. But it was even more a very moving demon·
stration of the Filipino affection for the Filipino Jesuits and their
American brethren.
The trucks had disappeared long ago-all confiscated by the Japa-
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nese. The Filipinos had met the situation by improvising pushcarts.
Do not imagine a small one-man push cart used by hawkers of
apples or frankfurters. The Filipino people, very resourceful, made
their own pushcarts by getting four automobile wheels and on the
axles, built all sizes of bodies. One would be surprised at the
number of beds or bureaus or lockers that could be piled up on one
of these pushcarts. In many cases it would take half a dozen people
to push the loaded carts. As soon as the news spread about, these
pushcarts suddenly came, apparently out of the woods and out of
the walls, out of nowhere. At one time I counted over forty of them.
Many were brought by alumni and by friends of alumni whom we
had never met before.
The Japanese sentries were joined about midmorning by several
squads of Japanese soldiers, who evidently were the first contingent
destined to move into the buildings. They too gaped in amazement
at the men and women carrying immense loads out of the edifices,
dumping them on the pushcarts, and hurrying back for more. The
soldiers quickly learned to duck out of the way. Fixed bayonets or
not, many a Japanese was rammed in the back by a heavy desk or
chair-accidentally, of course. One of them apparently summoned
enough of his senses to report what was going on to higher officers.
For at eleven o'clock, the Japanese official who was second in command of the Foreign Office appeared with another and larger contingent of soldiers. In the hurly-burly he managed to locate me
and declared he was taking possession immediately. I protested long
and vociferously that according to the orders of the magnanimous
Japanese High Command we had until one o'clock to move out.
Even while we were arguing, desks, chairs, beds, lockers and whatnot continued to Row in an unceasing stream past us to the pushcarts.
As the morning went on, more and more people came to assist
the Jesuit Fathers in the transfer. The Beaterio Sisters and the Belgian Sisters came with several scores of their girl students. Two
justices of the Filipino Supreme Court came to help. I stopped
these men because I feared a stroke or a heart attack. I told them
that their mere presence was a tremendous contribution and example for the people.
The sisters were marvelous. In the small reception room as one
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entered the Ateneo, there were some tables and chairs for visitors.
The soldiers who had arrived immediately took this over as their
office and set up their tea kettle with burners on one of the tables.
A Belgian sister with some of her girls unceremoniously removed
the kettle, and gesticulated remonstratively that they were ruining a
good table. The sister put the kettle on the floor, while the girls
picked up the table and walked out with it. The whole second floor
after a short while had become quite bare. A Japanese soldier,
however, had picked up a small glass ashtray and was slowly walking down the corridor, banging his gun against the floor in the
manner of a shepherd 'vith his staff. A Belgian sister who happened
along, took the ashtray out of the hand of the Japanese soldier. The
Japane'se loosed his hold on the tray to point at the sister and said,
"You,-smoke?" and she said, "Yes." He threw his head and laughed
uproariously, and then simply continued his patrol down the corridor. The sister handed me the ashtray and began to describe the
incident of which I myself was a witness.
After my discussion with the Foreign Office official at eleven
o'clock, I suddenly contrived to disappear from sight. Meantime
things were being rushed out the front door without any regard for
the soldiers. But after a period of time, the guards at the front door
received orders to allow nobody out with any more furniture. After
~the order had been given, students of the Christian Brothers' college
of La Salle, who were assisting in the move, entered my office, took
the huge very heavy wooden desk they found there, and started
down the corridor with it. The Japanese soldiers stopped them. Undisturbed by this, they put down-the desk and simply waited. After
a few minutes, they then carried it through the other side of the
building, right up on the grand portico, the azotea. From the floor
of the azotea to the ground was a distance of about twenty feet.
How these La Salle boys, plus a couple of our Ateneo alumni, ever
got that heavy desk over the balustrade of the portico, and down
to the ground without smashing it, amazed me. However, they did
it and then simply walked it out the back gate on Dakota Street
which the Japanese had not yet discovered, and consequently were
not guarding.
The Japanese official in charge finally caught up with me in the
djning room. After much gesticulating which of course I was not
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too quick to understand, he finally made his meaning clear by drawing a chalk line across the floor at the door, and after more gestures
indicated that anything inside must not come out. Then he explained
to me that the Japanese were going to put Japanese characters on
all the things that must not be removed. As soon as he left the dining
room, the Filipinos immediately swarmed in and removed tables,
chairs, etc. Meanwhile the official and several of his men were busy
in all parts of the building, marking things with Japanese characters to indicate that they must not be removed. I explained this to
the Filipinos. The reaction of the women was, "Oh, they're locos"
(that is, silly, crazy, stupid). And women with cloths or handkerchiefs erased the marks and the flow of furniture continued out the
gates. About noontime, two of these women stopped me and with
a laugh said, "Father, do you have any paint remover?" \Vondering
what under the sun they wanted with paint remover at this stage
of the world's existence, I said, "What do you want the paint remover
for?" They said, "That's about all there's left, and we don't want the
Japanese to have even the paint." Then they laughed and went off
about their work. Some of the men came to me in a great rush and
asked for monkey wrenches and other heavy tools. On inquiring
what they wanted them for, I was told they intended to remove the
sanitary installations. They actually began the work, but they were
stopped by the Japanese.
It was touching indeed to see those swarms of pushcarts bustling
away down Padre Faura Street, hurried on by dozens of willing
hands, and cheered by hundreds of spectators. Before the war the
Ateneo had a large bus, labelled for the school symbol, the Blue
Eagle, and a pickup truck, known to the students as the Blue Eaglet.
Among the dozens of carts, one could see a large one, pushed by
our students and alumni, and bearing the proud sign: "Blue EaglePush." Tagging along behind was a smaller cart, named, of course,
the "Blue Eaglet-Push." The carts were loaded with incredible
burdens-even huge, unwieldy, enormously heavy mahogany
screens, twelve feet high and fourteen feet across, and tremendous
desks and tables made of ponderous Philippine mahogany.
When the Japanese did take over the Ateneo buildings, they
found them practically stripped to the bare floors. Even the electric
light sockets had been robbed of bulbs, and the doors of knobs.
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Most of the heavy equipment was pushed into Intramuros and
stored in our church of San Ignacio, which was no longer used for
divine services due to the war. My hopes of re-equipping the Ateneo
after the war from this store were defeated, however, when in the
terrible fighting for Manila, Intramuros, including our church, was
levelled to the ground.
\Vhen the Japanese moved into the main buildings, we retired to
the other end of the compound, that is to the laboratory buildings
and the auditorium. Here the Jesuit philosophers remained with
their teachers until the first American bombing of Manila on September 21, 1944. With further bombings in prospect, the ViceSuperior of the Mission (I was in concentration camp) Fr. Jose
Siguioir decided that dispersal was the safest policy. A handful of
Jesuits-remained at the Padre Faura campus, living in the dressing
rooms of the auditorium. Here, as the American army approached
the city, they were joined by hundreds of refugees, who bedded
down in the auditorium and other buildings. In the savage fighting
for the city of Manila which practically levelled the city to the
ground, the buildings of the Ateneo were blown to bits by heavy
shelling; or destroyed by the Japanese. Among those killed were two
young scholastics, Ricardo Pimentel and Francisco Lopez. They
were but two of hundreds. For the maddened Japanese poured gaso~line on the auditorium, crowded with refugees, and set it ablaze.
In the fire, hundreds died a horrible death.
The theologians and their professors moved into the diocesan
seminary on San Marcelino Street. There they remained for ten
months until in May, 1944, tlie-- Japanese evicted them from this
refuge. Driven from the hospitality of the Vincentian Fathers, a
number of theologians were welcomed by the Augustinian friars in
Intramuros; others moved into our Mission House nearby.
VIII) I
AM
INTERROGATED AND INTERNED
AFTER OUR EXPULSION from the campus on Padre Faura Street, I
returned with a group of fathers to the Mission House on Arzobispo Street in the lntramuros section of Manila.
, One morning I received a phone call from the Kempetai, "inviting" me to visit their headquarters on Taft Avenue. I had no idea
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what was in the wind, and decided to use evasive tactics. To represent me, I sent my socius, Fr. Henry Greer. \Vhen Fr. Greer returned that evening, he was mystified. \Vhen he got to the Kempetai
offices, he found that I was not the only Jesuit invited. Present at
Taft Avenue were Frs. Vincent Kennally (now bishop of the
Marshall and Caroline Islands), Anthony Keane, Joseph Mulry,
Bernard Doucette, Bros. John Abrams and Edward Bauerlein, and
the Filipino scholastic, Horacio de la Costa. The Japanese simply
loaded the group on a truck and hauled them off to Fort Santiago.
\Vhile the others were incarcerated, Fr. Greer, whose name was not
on the list, was kept waiting all day. He was finally released, and
walked the few blocks from the fort to our house on Arzobispo
Street.
Clearly the Japanese were after me. I had had sufficient warning.
To give an instance: an alumnus one day appeared at Padre Faura
Street and asked to see Fr. Keane. The young man had just been
released from Fort Santiago by the Kempetai, who gave him the
usual instructions to go home and say nothing of what had occurred
in the prison. And they added particular instructions: stay away
from the American Jesuits. But within twenty-four hours the young
man turned up at our compound. He refused to speak to Fr. Keane
in the parlors in front of the house, insisted on a place where they
could not be overheard, led the padre to the most secluded classroom in the rear of the building, then to the furthest corner of the
room, and when he spoke, it was in a whisper. This was the effect
of a sojourn in Fort Santiago. The purpose of his visit was to warn
that the Japanese were out to get me. He dared not speak to me
personally, lest the Japanese learn of it and again imprison him in
Fort Santiago; and he asked Fr. Keane to pass on the warning.
This was Ramon Diaz, brother of Fr. Jesus ("Jess") Diaz, S.J.
On another occasion an Ateneo alumnus, Gabino Mendoza, passed
me on the streets in Intramuros in a horse-drawn callesa. He stopped
the callesa, furtively signalled me to approach, and warned me in a
whisper that the Japanese had questioned him many times and at
length about me. He said they had secured photographs of the
Ateneo alumni and of the Jesuit padres and had asked him to
identify them.
The pictures were in the year books put out before the war by
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the graduating classes of the Ateneo. Copies of these annuals, which
they had somehow obtained, had confused the Japanese. They contained pictures of the Ateneo administration and faculty, including
the rector at the time, Fr. Francis Reardon, and the head of the
chemistry department, Fr. Eugene Gisel. Since I was in command
at the Ateneo campus, they expected my portrait to be in the
annuals; of course, it was not. \Vhen alumni and students of the
Ateneo were questioned, the Japanese would bring out the year
books, cover the captions on the pictures, and ask the one being
questioned to supply the names. \Vhen Fr. Gisel was properly
identified, the questioner would be put out. It is of course understandable. Many \Vesterners cannot tell one Oriental from another;
it is pot surprising that many Orientals cannot tell one Caucasian
from another. The Japanese expected Fr. Gisel to be identified as
"Harry, John." I understood their confusion. Both Fr. Gisel and
myself wore eyeglasses and were quite full-faced; and while Fr.
Gisel was bald, I have a forehead that is very, very high. The
Japanese were further confused since I was indifferently called
"Father Hurley" and "Father Superior" by the man being questioned.
On several occasions the then Assistant Fiscal (District Attorney)
of Manila (later Senator) Tanada, sent word to me to be very
careful because on the desk of the Chief Inspector of the Kempetai
at Fort Santiago was my photograph with a large X marked below
it. Tanada explained that the X signified I was under very special
investigation. I received similar warnings from several other Filipinos.
Fr. Greer came back from--Fort Santiago with orders from the
Kempetai that I was to present myself to them. I had no intention
of obliging them. I knew that if I did, I too would end up in the
dungeons. I decided to play on the mortal fear of infectious diseases in the Japanese. On Padre Faura Street I had had several
attacks of dysentery and had been treated by an Ateneo alumnus,
Dr. Ted Herrerra. \Vhen I got in touch with Dr. Ted, he came to
Intramuros and gave me a certificate that I was still harboring
dysentery germs. The Japanese phoned several times and ordered rne
to report. But with the backing of Dr. Herrerra, I could answer that
I was harboring germs and of course I promised that as soon as I
·was fully recovered, I would visit them. One never becomes corn-
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pletely free of dysentery germs.
By this device I evaded the Kcmpetai for a number of weeks. \Ve
still did not know why the others had been arrested, and I was
anxious to find out before I had to report. Fr. Doucette was eventually released and he returned to his residence at La Ignaciana
on the Pasig River. He got word to me he had been quizzed among
other things about bayonets.
Hidden bayonets
I knew then what the problem was. The Ateneo de Manila had
an R.O.T.C. corps, which had been supplied by the government
with several hundred rifles and bayonets. While in their drills the
boys had used the rifles, the bayonets were never unpacked but
kept in the boxes in which they had been delivered to us. Soon
after the occupation of Manila, the Japanese army had removed
the rifles, but had overlooked the bayonets in the armory at the
Padre Faura campus. Concluding it was dangerous to keep them
at the Ateneo, and as dangerous to tell the Japanese we had them,
we had smuggled them over to the retreat house called La Ignaciana
and hid them in the storeroom where they remained undisturbed
for months.
The Japanese, hearing that guerrillas were hiding arms in the
Santa Anna district, one day sent soldiers to search the area. They
swooped down on the compound at La Ignaciana and searched it
from stem to stern. They entered the storeroom, pulled the goods
apart, opened numbers of boxes and bales. Bro. Bauerlein reported
that while he was questioned there by a Japanese officer, the soldier
smoked a cigarette with his foot up on a box of bayonets. The
weapons, however, were not found. That night Bro. Bauerlein and
a loyal muchaclw dumped the dangerous cartons into the nearby
Pasig River.
Thereafter messages about the bayonets and their disposal were
exchanged among Fr. Keane at the Ateneo who had arranged their
transfer to La Ignaciana, Fr. Kennally at the retreat house, and
myself. One written message was carried by the Filipino scholastic,
Jaime Neri. As luck would have it, the Japanese searched young
Neri. And the fat was in the fire.
At once the Japanese returned in strength to La Ignaciana and
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turned the compound and its contents upside down. Of course they
did not find the bayonets, now embedded in the silt of the Pasig.
But they did discover several items they judged suspicious. In Fr.
:Mulry's room they found photographs of Tokyo in ruins. The pictures had been taken by one of our priests in Japan, ~lark McNeal,
after the Tokyo earthquake of 1923; and they had been used by
him on a lecture tour in the United States to raise money for the
victims of the quake. How the Japanese interpreted these pictures
is not clear. But they were pictures of their capital city, and they
showed it in ruins. Fr. Mulry was arrested. Fr. Doucette, a member
of the staff of the weather bureau at the Manila Observatory, had
in his room a batch of the daily weather reports. For possession of
this. collection of suspicious meteorological data, he too ended up
in- j~lil.
The Kempetai also picked up Fr. Keane, the two American
brothers at La Ignaciana and the rector, Fr. Kennally. I do not recall
why young de la Costa was arrested, but I believe it was because
he had acted as a letter-drop for me. Thank heavens the Japanese
never learned of the scores of daring actions done by this apparently frail young man.
The story is this: soon after the occupation of the islands, I
wanted to learn about the conditions of our padres in Mindanao.
I decided to send an emissary. The man would have to be Filipino,
young, active and knowledgeable of the island. Burly young Jaime
Neri fitted the bill. Off he went. Obviously he could not address his
reports back to Manila to me. My name on the envelope would be
enough to assure that the Japanese censors would read the letters
and very probably keep them. Therefore Jaime sent long, chatty
and apparently innocuous letters to his friend, Horacio, in Manila.
It would appear that the censors intercepted some of these letters
en route and read them with more than ordinary interest. At any
event, when de la Costa entered Fort Santiago, he found his erstwhile correspondent already in residence.
For several weeks the eight Jesuits remained in Fort Santiago
and received the delicate treatments of the Kempetai. They were
at least spared the water cure that was inflicted, among others, on
two American Maryknoll nuns, Sr. Trinita and Sr. Brigida. In this
ingenious treatment, the victim was thrown on the ground, his nose
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blocked up, a rubber tube forced down his throat, and down the
tube was poured great quantities of water; when the body of the
victim was greatly bloated, the Kempetai would jump with both
feet on the distended abdomen. But apart from this the Jesuits got
the full treatment, crowded into filthy cells, starved, beaten. Latervery much later-Bishop Kennally could be kidded on the unique
distinction conferred upon him by his jailers. In his cell, he was the
"Banjo boy." The Japanese word for sanitary facility is transliterated in English as "benjo," pronounced "banjo." Once a day
Fr. Kennally had to carry out of his cell the bucket used as a
latrine. One day, terribly weakened by abuse and starvation, he
fell while carrying his odorous receptacle and broke his arm. He
received no medical attention. He kept the arm immobilized as
much as possible and eventually the bone healed.
Eventually Jaime Neri was sent to the prison at Muntinlupa, Frs.
Kennally and Keane and the two brothers were transferred to the
internment camp at Santo Tomas, while Frs. Mulry, Doucette and
the young scholastic de la Costa were turned loose. Those who
were released we fed as best we could and we "deloused" them.
This was not an easy process; so filthy were the cells that it would
take long days. Young Horacia emerged with a stubborn skin disease
that took months to clear up.
The phone calls from the Kempetai, demanding that I report to
Fort Santiago persisted. Finally matters came to the point where
I had to obey. Fully believing that if I came out of the dreadful
place alive it would not be for long months, I arranged for transfer
of authority and made my peace with God. One morning, full of
trepidation, I entered the gate of Fort Santiago.
Interrogation
I was immediately taken to an interrogation room. For three hours
a major of the Kempetai questioned me through a Japanese civilian
interpreter whose command of English was not very good. The
interrogation was wide-ranging and covered all sorts of topics,
including the bayonets in the Pasig. The Japanese could not, as they
obviously hoped, catch me in a single lie. For I did not tell them
one. Apart from the immorality of the lie, I knew that the best
way to handle the Nipponese was to tell them the truth. When
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they found they were getting the truth, this would mystify and
confuse them. But while I gave them strictly truthful answers to
all their questions, I made no attempt to amplify. In this I followed
the practice urged by lawyers on their clients. I answered the
question as put, and then shut up. I made no speeches, I volunteered no information, I offered no explanations.
About noon, the major indicated that the questioning would be
suspended for a few hours. I rose from my chair, bracing myself
to experience for the first time the dreadful cells of which I had
heard so much. To my absolute amazement I was told that I could
leave the fort, but that I would have to return that afternoon.
Stunned but rejoicing, I walked the few blocks to the Mission House
where I was received by my equally stunned and rejoicing brethren.
That afternoon I again bade farewell to my fellow Jesuits and at
three o'clock reported to the fort. For another three hours we went
at it hammer and tongs. The Kempetai officer was not at all gracious
in his manner. For at the end of the second question period, he had
not gotten a damaging confession nor had he been able to get any
information on which he could base even a specious charge. About
six o'clock the major again gave me the hoped-for but still incredible
news that I was free to go. For in wartime Manila it was simply
unknown for any Filipino or American to enter Fort Santiago and
reappear on the same day. I went on my way, rejoicing.
Twice thereafter I was again summoned to Fort Santiago, and
twice the same process was repeated: long and gruelling periods
of interrogation and finally at the end of the day a most welcome
dismissal.
.
Yet I knew that the day; of my freedom were numbered. Though
the Japanese had no solid evidence of any of my activities which
they would consider hostile or illegal, they were obviously highly
suspicious of me. Sooner or later they would incarcerate me. Therefore I took the necessary measures to see that the work of the Jesuits
would go on while the superior of the mission was behind bars.
The expected blow fell in the first week of 1943, when I received
a written order from the Japanese to report for internment at Santo
Tomas. Although the Apostolic Delegate, Archbishop Piani, entered
a protest, the Nipponese refused to recall the order. I noticed that
my copy of the order had confused the date. While I was com-
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manded to report before noon on Monday, January 13, that date in
January did not occur until later in the week. Always cooperative
with the occupying forces, I remained home at the Mission House
on Monday. In the afternoon I received a phone call from the
commandant of Santo Tomas. I told him I would report on January 13. Warning me that I had better, he agreed to the delay! At
noon on January 13, I was still on Arzobispo Street. Once again the
commandant phoned. I told him that no conveyance had appeared
to carry me to Santo Tomas. Obviously irritated, he told me to get
my own transportation or walk. I had packed a small trunk, known
in the Philippines as a "baul," pronounced "bah-ul," with some
essential clothing. I thereupon asked him when he would send for
my haul. This infuriated him. He shouted "You and your bowel
can go to hell" and slammed down the phone. Having demonstrated
my cooperative spirit, I decided I had better check into Santo
Tomas.
There I did not lack the company of my religious brethren. Only
a few weeks before my arrival, after several months in Fort Santiago,
Frs. Kennally and Keane and Bros. Abrams and Bauerlein had been
transferred to Santo Tomas, mere battered, mere walking, skeletons.
Fr. Doucette had once more been arrested and placed in Santo
Tomas. From Mindanao where they had been interned since the
early days of the war, a group of American Jesuits had been transferred to Santo Tomas: Frs. Cervini, David Daly, Ewing, Kirchgessner, McFadden, and three scholastics, Behr, Brady, and Gehring.
I will not dwell upon the horrors and inspiring courage of Santo
Tomas internment camp. They have been adequately described in
a number of books-to cite but two: Santo Tomas Internment Camp,
edited by Frederic H. Stevens and A. V. H. Hartendorp's The
Santo Tomas Story. 1 Mr. Hartendorp was appointed as official historian of the camp by the internees' committee, and he wrote a
daily account under the noses of the Japanese guards. The manu~
script, eventually totaling some 4,000 pages, was never discovered.
The book prints only excerpts. Would that the whole manuscript
could be printed!
-
1
Frederic Harper Stevens, Santo Tomas Internment Camp, Limited Private
Edition (New York: Stratford House, 1946); Abram V. H. Hartendorp, The
Santo To= Story, ed. Frank H. Golay (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1964).
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·when I entered the camp, the commandant, probably because
of our phone conversations, expressly forbade me to say Mass. None
of the fifty or so other priests in Santo Tomas had received such
an order. They offered ~lass daily in the physics or chemistry
laboratories of the main building, where a number of altars had
been set up. \Vhile I could not use these altars, I managed to evade
the order. I rose very early and together with a Columban, Fr.
McFadden, headed for the physiotherapy room in the improvised
hospital. Here we put blankets on the window to cut off any
glimmer of light, and before dawn we had both finished Mass on
our improvised altar.
The hospital had been set up in a section of the Santa Catalina
dormitory which before the war housed female students of the
university. The Spanish Dominican Sisters who had conducted the
dormitory still resided in a section of the building supposedly sealed
off from the rooms used by the internment camp. \Vhile we were
saying Mass, often we would hear the sound of a forbidden newspaper being whisked under the door from the sisters' quarters. More
than newspapers came through the sisters' willing hands.
During the thirteen months of my internment, I, like the other
prisoners, waited and hoped and starved. Like so many other
priests, I found employment as an orderly in the camp hospital.
Fr. Keane and I worked as a team. One of our jobs was to
"delouse" the prisoners transferred, often in dying condition, to
Santo Tomas from the dungeons of Fort Santiago. So expert did we
become at this task, that, whenever a prisoner arrived from Fort
Santiago, the head nurse, Miss Blanche Kimball, would call for her
specialists. We also becam~ quite skilled in the administering of
enemas. Our reputation was so good that when the doctors were in
personal need they came to us for treatment. Many of the patients
requiring enemas were old men, suffering from piles of trouble.
\Ve treated them with the utmost gentleness. And we waited and
hoped and starved.
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IX)
THE LAST YEAR OF OCCUPATION
AND THE FIRST YEAR OF FREEDOM
IN THE UNCERTAINTIES of the war and the occupation, it was my
duty to see that suitable plans were devised to be put into effect,
depending upon varying contingencies. Two of these plans were
drawn up with the advice and consent of my consultors to respond
to two likely events: that the superior of the mission would be
unable to function due to death or incarceration, and that all the
American Jesuits would be interned. Both of these contingencies
came to pass.
The first of these documents is entitled Status Promulgandus
Si et Quando, that is, a list of offices to be promulgated if and when
the Americans were herded into camps. All offices vacated by
Americans would be taken by Filipinos. It was designed so that the
work of the Society could continue, especially the training of the
candidates for the priesthood. It was anticipated that the studies
of the theologate would continue at San Marcelino Seminary with
about a dozen scholastics and two dozen J osefinos. In the area left
to us, at the Ateneo de Manila campus, the philosophate would
continue with about twenty scholastics and an equal number of
Josefinos. About twenty more Josefinos would constitute the two
upper classes of the minor seminary, housed in our buildings in
Intramuros. The largest number of scholastics, about forty novices
and juniors, would continue their studies at La Ignaciana.
Part of this Status Si et Quando, of course, came into effect when
I entered Santo Tomas internment camp on January 13, 1944. Fr.
Jose Siguion took office as vice-superior. vVithin a week he
circulated to local superiors the second document which contained
instructions on the mode of operations to be followed when and if
the American Jesuits were interned.
This second paper gave instructions to the Filipino Jesuits to
continue their normal work as best they could. It also gave advice
to the Americans on the articles useful in concentration, such as
tin cups and plates, mosquito nets, paper and pencils. It was planned
that, if possible, the scholastics would continue their studies under
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their imprisoned professors. The scholastics were therefore instructed to carry with them their textbooks and necessary reference
works.
For the first five months of 1944, matters went along as peacefully
as could be expected under the circumstances. But on the last day
of May, the Japanese expelled our men from the archdiocesan
seminary on San :Marcelino Street. \Vhereupon the theological students and professors retreated to prepared positions in the Convento
of San Augustin in Intramuros, where they were made welcome by
the Augustinian friars.
But only five weeks later, on July 7, 1944, Japanese officials
appeared at our communities, assembled all Americans, and informed them that they would be interned immediately. The following day about 400 American and Allied nationals were trucked into
the campus of Santo Tomas. Practically all of them were religious
workers-Protestant ministers and their families, and hundreds of
priests, brothers and nuns. They 'vere housed overnight in the
gymnasium and we internees were forbidden to speak to them. But
I managed to slip unnoticed into the gym and exchanged news
with the brethren. Very early in the morning, they were carted
away on trucks and shipped off to the internment camp at Los
Banos, some forty miles southeast of :Manila on the campus of the
agricultural college of the University of the Philippines. There 77
American Jesuits, 47 priests, and 30 scholastics were to spend the
next eight months. There they had the exquisite pleasure of starving
in sight of fields of corn and sugar cane and of forests of cocoanut
trees.
- ·
The Status Si et Quando now came fully into effect. But Fr.
Siguion had to take care of contingencies that could not have been
foreseen. Before the end of the year the Japanese had expelled all
the Filipino Jesuits who remained at the i\Iission House or at the
Convento of San Augustin from Intramuros. Here one may see the
finger of divine providence using the enemy to drive our men to
places of greater safety. For in the terrible Battle of Manila the
Intramuros section was blown to bits, and our men could scarcely
have survived. But this would make providence partisan, for some
seventy or eighty friars, as Spanish considered neutral by the Japa·
nese, were allowed to remain in Intramuros, and all were killed.
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Bombing and joy
On September 21, 1944, the first American bombing attack on
Manila occurred, to our great joy in Santo Tomas. \Vith constant
bombings thereafter and with the uncertainties of the situation,
Fr. Siguion decided that a policy of dispersal would be best for
the Filipino and Spanish Jesuits who had not been interned. La
Ignaciana on the Pasig River still seemed fairly safe, and a large
number of our fathers, scholastics, and brothers remained there.
Fr. Siguion set up headquarters at the retreat house of Nazareth,
conducted by the Filipina sisters of the congregation of Hijas de
Jesus in the Sampaloc area of Manila. Other Jesuit priests were
stationed in parishes in and about Manila. Groups of five or six
scholastics, usually accompanied by a priest, managed to get out
of the city into the provinces. One group was in Morang, Rizal,
another in Pila, Laguna, a third in Baguio, and a fourth in Nueva
Ecija. The philosophate on the Ateneo de Manila campus was
broken up, but a handful of Jesuits remained at Padre Faura Street.
In the long months between the first appearance of American
planes on September 21, 1944, and the liberation on February 3,
1945, conditions in the Santo Tomas internment camp reached their
nadir. Not only were the American and Allied internees starving,
but so were the people of Manila. The price of a sack of rice which
in early 1944 had been the incredibly high price of 500 pesos on
the black market soared to 5,000 pesos. And the profiteers were
squirreling away what money they could. In anticipation of liberation, people were getting rid of their "Mickey Mouse" money; they
would offer up to thirty pesos for an old Philippine note of one peso.
Increasing numbers of Japanese appeared at the camp. Not only
did they move into the barracks at the main gate of the compound,
but they set up tents on the grounds. Further, they took over the
first floor of the education building, ejecting the Americans residing
there. Room was made in other areas, already overcrowded.
During these long months, American air raids were frequent. We
Were constantly taking shelter as best we could when the alerts
sounded. Frequently we observed the planes passing overhead in
fairly large numbers. It was always a source of joy to see them,
even though we hoped that their bombs would avoid Santo Tomas.
Rumors of American landings in the islands were frequent and
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invariably false. But we did learn the day after it happened of the
American invasion of Leyte and Samar on October 20, 1944. We
were accustomed to announcements over the public address system,
and the broadcasters, after giving the schedule for the next day,
concluded with "Better Leyte than never!"
On Christmas Day, an American plane flew low over the camp
and dropped thousands of leaflets. \Ve \Vere able to secure a number
-our only Christmas card and a most welcome one. The message,
obviously from the pen of Gen. MacArthur, read: "The Commanderin-Chief, the Officers and men of the American Forces of Liberation
in the Pacific wish their gallant allies, the People of the Philippines,
all_ the blessings of Christmas and the realization of their fervent
hopes for the New Year. Christmas, 1944."
-In the month of January, American planes appeared in increasing
numbers in the skies over .Manila. Rumors of American landings on
Luzon were a dime a dozen. (The first landing occurred about midJanuary.) Fires in the city were increasingly common, due either
to American bombs or Japanese demolition squads. The rumor
circulated that the Japanese intended to kill all the Americans in
Santo Tomas before the American army could release us. Judging
from our experiences at the hands of the Japanese, we were more
than ready to lend credence to this particular rumor.
In the last days of January, we could hear the sounds of artillery
fire coming from the outskirts of Manila, and the numbers of
detonations of the demolition squads inside the city continued. The
Japanese guards were obviously very nervous. They were burning
their records and trucking1t,vay food and other supplies. As February began the demolitions continued. Santo Tomas seemed to be
in a circle of huge fires in all parts of the city and the whole sky
was filled with smoke.
Soon after sunset on February 3, we could hear heavy rifle and
machine gun fire in many sections of the city. About 6:30 it was
clear that the fighting was approaching Santo Tomas. Increasingly
loud bursts of machine gun fire, hand grenades, and the rumbling
of tanks came to a climax when a group of tanks burst through the
fence in front of the compound, and we were greeted by obviously
American voices. At once hysterical men, women, and children
rushed from all quarters of the compound to greet our liberators.
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But there was an ominous silence from the education building.
There about fifty Japanese soldiers were situated, armed with rilles
and machine guns; and they had as hostages in the building over
200 internees. Men of the First Cavalry Division surrounded the
building with tanks and machine guns. The Japanese commandant
sent out several of his officers and some internees to negotiate for a
safe conduct to the Japanese lines. Negotiations went on for some
time, while more American troops and equipment appeared on the
campus. Eventually, on the morning of February 5, the Japanese,
with their rifles and side arms, were escorted out of the compound
to the Japanese lines.
Santo Tomas was now within the lines of the American Army.
While we were rejoicing over our liberation and eating the first
substantial meals in months, Manila was undergoing agony.
A large body of Japanese, both army and navy personnel, were
trapped in Manila. Rather than surrender, they chose to deal out
death and destruction until they themselves were killed. All throughout the city they set great fires. After concentrating in Manila south
of the Pasig River, they blew up all the bridges. Especially in
Ermita, where the Ateneo de Manila campus was, and in Malate,
they turned on the civilians of Manila. Thousands upon thousands
of Filipinos were massacred as the areas were destroyed. Others
were killed accidentally by gunfire as American troops fought their
way through the Japanese lines.
North of the Pasig River, at Santo Tomas, where we internees
remained because there was no place else to go, we could see the
smoke and fire, hear the constant rattle of gunfire and the pounding
of shells. Nor did the Japanese forget us. On February 8 the Japanese shelled Santo Tomas, and they repeated the courtesy again on
February 10 and 11.
Among those killed by the Japanese shelling was Fr. David Daly.
The first few weeks of 1945 which witnessed our liberation cost us
dearly in men. Not only was Fr. Daly killed, but two Filipino
scholastics at the Ateneo de Manila met their deaths, Ricardo
Pimentel and Francisco Lopez; and a third, Conrado Abrogina, was
killed, together with a dozen nuns, by shellfire in Batangas. Another
died of natural causes-if starvation can be considered a natural
cause-Edward McGinty. \Ve learned later of two other deaths:
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Fr. Joseph Mulry at Los Banos concentration camp, and Fr. Carl
Hausmann who, as a prisoner aboard a Japanese steamer, went down
when an American sub sank the ship.
The last pockets of Japanese resistance were not destroyed until
the end of February. At that time Manila was almost completely
destroyed. In the opinion of men who had seen other ruined cities,
Manila could be compared only to Coventry and 'Varsaw.
The brutal facts
Possibly the best way to describe the shambles of Manila is to
cite the official U. S. Army history, Triumph in the Philippines, by
Robert Ross Smith:
·• The cost of retaking Manila had not been light. XIV Corps lost over
1,000 men killed and 5,500 wounded in the Metropolitan area from 3rd
February through 3rd March. . . .
Tbe Japanese lost some 16,000 men killed in and around Manila . . . .
Tbe cost of the battle for Manila cannot be measured in military terms
alone. The city was a shambles after the battle was over-much of it
destroyed, damaged beyond repair, or reparable only at great expense in
time and money. The public transportation system no longer existed; the
water supply and sewage systems needed extensive repair; the electric
power facilities did not function; most of the streets needed repaving;
39 of 100 or more large and small bridges had been destroyed, including
the 6 over the Fasig River.
The University of the Philippines and the Philippine General Hospital
were largely irreparable. [It will be remembered that the Ateneo de
Manila adjoined the hospital and was just across the street from the
university.] Lower class resid~ntial districts north of the Fasig and up~er
class apartments south of the•. river had been destroyed; the Philippine
Commonwealth's government center had been wiped out; the 400-year-old
landmark of lntramuros had been nearly razed; severe damage had been
inflicted on the economically important installations in the north and
south Port Area; the industrialized Paco and Pandacan districts had been
badly battered. Many buildings still standing would ultimately have to be
torn down as unsafe for occupancy. Millions upon millions of dollars
worth of damage had been done and, as a final shocking note of tragedy,
an estimated 100,000 Filipino civilians had lost their lives during the battle.
In the meanwhile I was worried about the internees at Los
Bafios Internment Camp, where most of the American Jesuits were
confined, still behind Japanese lines. On February 23 they were
.'liberated by a joint operation of Filipino and American guerrillas
234
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and American paratroopers. These fighting men disposed of the
Japanese guards. Before the Nipponese could send reinforcements to
the area, scores of amtracks had crossed Laguna de Bay, picked up
over 2,000 internees and carried them safely to Muntinlupa behind
the American lines.
On June 8, 1945, Gen. MacArthur proclaimed the end of the war
on the island of Luzon.
Now we had to pick up the pieces and begin anew.
With the end of the fighting in Manila-though we could for
some weeks hear the continual warfare just outside the city in the
i\Iarikina Valley-! left Santo Tomas and resumed my office as
superior of the Jesuits in the Philippines. With my socius Fr. Greer
and my secretary Fr. John McNicholas I moved into quarters at
Nazareth that Fr. Siguion had used. Shortly we shifted to a school
conducted by the Sisters of the Holy Ghost, and then found semipermanent quarters with the Filipina Augustinian Sisters at their
Consolacion College on San Raphael Street in Manila.
My first preoccupation was with our brethren. Very many were
in poor shape after long months of incarceration and starvation. As
an example, I can adduce myself; I had lost almost 100 pounds
in weight. I decided that my first objective was to see that the men
had a chance to recuperate. As shipping, provided by the American
armed forces, became available, I ordered many of the American
priests and scholastics back to the United States. The general policy
was to keep just a skeleton crew on the job until these men got
their strength back at home. To the States also I sent as many
Filipino scholastics as possible to continue their education. A catalog
which we drew up under date of December 12, 1945, indicates tl1at
we then had 179 Jesuits in the islands; some 70 had been sent to
the United States.
By that time we had been able to evaluate the material situation
of the mission. In Mindanao, matters were in better shape than in
Luzon. As I have mentioned, the Filipino and Spanish padres had
remained at their posts. Now tl1ey were reinforced by those American Jesuits who had taken to the boondocks and evaded capture
all during the war. Our church and convento in the town of Zamboanga had been completely destroyed, as had been our Ateneo in
Cagayan de Oro on the northern coast.
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The destruction in the Manila area had been almost total. The
Ateneo de Manila campus on Padre Faura Street was a scene of
total desolation; all that had not been flattened were a few sections
of adobe walls. The buildings in Intramuros, the church of San
Ignacio, the Mission House, the Ateneo grade school, were totally
destroyed. The buildings of the seminary of San Jose at Balintawak
were wrecked. Outside Manila, the Ateneo de Naga still stood; but
we had for the time to abandon it. It was not yet practicable to
repair the structure and reopen the school.
Our novitiate and juniorate of the Sacred Heart at Novaliches,
north of Manila, still stood. It had been occupied first by the Japanese and then by the American armed forces. It was in fairly good
shape, but we could not, for the time, send our men there. It was
too-dangerous. In the chaotic conditions just after the war, many
of the self-styled guerrillas returned to their proper occupations as
bandits. And already in the Sierra Madre mountains nearby there
began to appear the Hukbalahaps, the Communist guerrillas who
were to plague the Philippines for years. Not until May 1946 was
the area about Novaliches sufficiently secure for our men to return.
La Ignaciana
-
Gratefully we noted that one major house in the Manila area had
escaped the ravages of war-La Ignaciana on the Pasig. Here we
concentrated the Filipino padres and scholastics who had made
their way back from the provinces, and here we assembled the
Josefinos. La Ignaciana was bursting at the seams. At first it was
practically a refugee camp,~but it gradually resumed the normal
appearance of a Jesuit community. The novices re-established the
orderly progression of their days, the Juniors conned their Latin
and Greek with occasional glances out of windows that showed
scenes of desolation, those Filipino scholastics who had not yet
enough philosophy to begin theological studies in the States
wrestled with hylomorphism.
To reopen the Ateneo de Manila with teachers who were physical
wrecks in a totally ruined city seemed to me an impossibility. But
I was prodded to get the school started again, especially by the
American padre, Austin Dowd and the Filipino scholastic, Miguel
.' Bernad. In the hunt for some sort of house to shelter the students,
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Fr. Dowd walked his emaciated frame on weakened legs indefatigably among the ruins of Manila. Eventually he found a location on Plaza Guipit in the Sampaloc area. Here in the ashes of
~Ianila, the Blue Eagle, like the phoenix, stirred again to life.
With joy and relief we began to welcome back to the islands the
trickle of Filipino and American Jesuits belonging to the Philippine
Mission who had been in studies in the United States when the war
broke out and who now returned, eager to take up the slack.
On December 15, 1945, after nine memorable years as superior
of the Jesuit mission in the Philippines, I gladly relinquished my
office and turned over its duties to Fr. Leo A. Cullum.
237
�A NIGHT IN RESURRECTION CITY
a visit and an impression
HoRACE
B. McKENNA,
S.J.
the Poor People's camp-site, attracted me as a
\Vashington inner-city parish priest, and I wished to spend the
night there. After making half a dozen or so visits to the Encampment, I found a man who kindly assured me that I could spend the
night in his tent.
Resurrection City was spread out in front of the Lincoln Memorial
and beside the Reflecting Pool on a ten-acre green lawn. Several
hundred A-shaped plywood huts stretched out in rows and housed
from five to fifteen hundred. persons of all ages. With traffic and
frequent heavy rains the swa""rd soon turned to a quagmire of brown
clay mud, from one to six inches deep, which lay in pools between
the catwalks.
One night about five o'clock I came to the City and circulated
among a friendly group I had met. A Jesuit scholastic from the West
often stayed with this group, and Father James Groppi in the midst
of his Commandos, always took time to give one a gracious welcome. \Vhen I was sure of a place to stay, I took off my clerical
collar and black coat and stowed them away. Still I was usually
treated with a kind of special deference, especially by my host.
\Vhile wandering around I spoke to a stalwart young man, and
together we sauntered the long way across the Arlington bridge,
RESURRECTION CITY,
238
�RESURRECI'ION CITY
and up to the Tomb of President Kennedy, and over to the Tomb
of the Unk:nown Soldier, and we watched the final public change
of Guard. 'Ve talked about his city, his people, and his education.
But when he looked back over the long road of the bridge toward
the distant i\'Iemorial, fatigue overcame him, I thumbed the way
home for the two of us with a couple of visitors.
Arriving back about suppertime, we went to the food table beside
a tub of burning charcoals. I found a burnt hot-dog, and my friend
offered me a roll. But as it was the last one in the bag, I left it
for someone hungrier than myself, and I made the hot-dog suffice.
On the edge of dark I went to the hut of my host who was very
gracious in offering me what he had to share in his accommodations.
His hut had several inner sections, some with cots, some bare. I
chose merely to sit on a camp chair against the wall of his hut,
while he carried on lively conversations a few steps ahead on the
edge of his plywood porch. He had three or four extra chairs, and
various people dropped by or sat down, all through the night until
about midnight. Around ten o'clock a group began singing about ten
rows behind us, and a loudspeaker from City Hall invited all to a
talent show then going on in the community meeting tent.
Many of those who sat down on my host's chairs were talkative.
My host frequently lifted his quart bottle to his lips. The talk was
blistered with anatomical vulgarity, but there was almost no blasphemy or talk against religion. Once a visitor let out a curse reflecting on religion, and my host said angrily, "apologize to that old
priest back there." At once the young man reached back in the dark
and shook my hand and good-naturedly apologized. Also there were
occasional denunciations of the "white man," and even talk of violence against him. But several times the host or the speaker would
say, referring to my slouching self, "not this old man back there."
A woolly headed hippie
Among the wanderers who sat down on our chairs was a woolly
headed hippie, a white youth about twenty-two, who had evidently
lodged a few nights in my host's tent. Now the host began to blame
him for everything, his missing articles, his disordered hut. Such
angry words ensued that I feared a fight. But finally the hippie
gathered up his bedding and belongings and went off into the night.
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Towards midnight, when my host saw that I had not fallen asleep,
he said to me, "go back there and lie down inside." I went inside
to one of the several compartments, and found a cot, in the dark.
I did not know if it was one cot or two, or if there was anyone
lying on it. I eased my body off the ground, let my feet stick out,
and dropped off to sleep until about five o'clock.
On awakening in the light about, I found my host furious because his house had been disordered, and he blamed the hippie
former occupant. As he went outside to start a fire in a barrel, I
tried to straighten up my cot, and the interior of the disordered
place, hanging up damp clothing and utensils wherever I could find
a nail in the wall.
Coming into the open, I watched my host and helped him clear
Uit .the area. In the night I had kicked over a jar of cooked lima
beans. My host said at once, "never mind that." Now I could not
find a spoon to gather up the mess, I had to use two flat sticks. J\Iy
friend spoke continuously of making coffee, but he never did anything but raise to his lips his new vessel, this time a partially filled
jug. Finally I thanked him heartily and wandered off to the "Food
Tent."
In the "Food Tent" I found some coffee, but instant coffee,
requiring that you take it to your own tent and make your own
hot water. So I got some watered milk and some boxed cereal from
the four young ladies serving at the long table. They identified
themselves as "Religious of the Sacred Heart of Jesus," who came
in each morning early from their suburban Stoneridge Academy.
The whole encampment~,~_as slowly awakening and going about
its self maintenance. The registration booth was active, the loudspeaker from City Hall was blaring, and there were three large
piles of the ·washington Post at hand for those interested. Children
ran around or played with muddy toys. At the Seventh Day Adventist Emergency Health Trailer the doctor and the nurse gave
a feeling of protection. A young man spoke to me quietly of the
need of unity among the marshals, and told of an attempted raid
on the refrigerated food truck. About five percent of the people were
white. They seemed as much at home as anyone else, as they walked
over the muddy catwalks or stepped cautiously around the quagmire
pools.
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�RESURRECfiON CITY
King and Kennedy
Dr. Martin Luther King, who conceived this "Poor People's Encampment," must have helped them from heaven. So also must
Senator Robert F. Kennedy, whose body was carried slowly past
it in the dark, a last sad visit to his friends. It was the hopeful
genius of the Poor People to have given their city a name, not like
"Disability Town," but like St. Paul in his outburst before the
Sanhedrin, a name which contains the whole Christian message of
eternal life, "Resurrection City."
Theirs was a lobby of bodies, not of cash, like the oil or gas or
airlines lobbies. They were a Banquo's ghost· for Congress; they
could not be downed. They showed that Poor Power could stand
up and be counted. Their spirit, if not their force, was active in the
five billion dollar housing bill passed by the Senate, in increased
allotments for food stamps, and in two decisions of the Supreme
Court: ruling out discrimination in housing, and permitting, as most
of the States hitherto do not permit, that an unemployed father may
remain home with his wife and family even when they are on
welfare.
Association with God's poor, as on June 19th Solidarity Day
march or at other times, makes one feel the nobility of mankind,
the heroism and fortitude which the creator has built into the nature
of the common man whose only end is God. One can better understand why God the Father loves man, why God the Son became
man, why the Holy Spirit lives in man and locks him in love to God
and to his fellow-man.
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a look at Fordham and the high schools
·,
The follou:ing two reports form Appendices II and III
to the New York Province's "Program for Renewaf' (16
September 1968). They are not New York Province policy,
but simply represent the studied opinions of those Jesuits
the New York provincials called together to ponder the tuo
areas selected. The reports were written and published at
the request of the spring 1969 Morristown Conference, the
second pan-province conference on reneu,Yll; the conference
requested the further studies because it did not itself have
the time to go as deeply into the values, problems and
futures of Fordham and the secondary schools as it thought
necessary. The editors of wooDSTOCK LEITERS thank Rev.
Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.]., Assistant to the Regional Provincial of New York, and the chairmen of the two com·
mittees, for permission to publish the reports.
REPORT OF THE SPECIAL COMMITTEE
ON FORDHAM UNIVERSITY
*
PREFATORY NOTE
WE, THE MEMBERS OF TillS COMMITTEE, found ourselves compelled
to remark on the relative swiftness and ease with which (once the
tedious preparatory work had been done) we came to the consensus
reflected in these recommendations-a consensus generally shared
by Fordham and non-Fordham members alike. We were, we inferred, a pretty homogeneous group, in age, experience and pre0
In the Morristown Conference Report, the Paper on Higher Education
states: " ... we recommend that Father Provincial appoint a group of Jesuits
to discuss and make recommendations on the Jesuit commitment and involve·
ment in the educational apostolate at Fordham University. This group should
include a substantial number of Jesuits actually engaged in the educational
apostolate at Fordham" (p. 9). It was also stated: " ... we will also, as you
asked, publish to the Province the results of this committee work" (p. 40).
The occasion of the publication to the Province of our program for renewal
seems an apt time to ful£11 this pledge.
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occupation. This homogeneity was a piece of good fortune for
which, perhaps, we ought only to express our gratitude to those who
appointed us for this work.
It will doubtless occur to readers of this report that, had a wider
spectrum of views been represented, the resulting recommendations might well have been different. This, of course, should be
borne in mind by those who would gauge the force and spirit of
the recommendations we make here. But we are who we are, and
have said what we honestly concluded had to be said.
The Committee:
Rev. Robert]. O'Connell, S.]., Chairman
Rev. John D. Boyd, S.].
Rev. Robert I. Canavan, S.].
Rev. Edu:in D. Cuffe, S.].
Rev. Frederick]. Dillemuth, S.].
Rev. ]ames C. Finlay, S.].
Rev. Albert]. Loomie, S.].
Rev. JohnS. Nelson, S.].
Rev. ]ames]. Ruddick, S.].
Rev. William A. Scott, S.].
Rev. Walter E. Stokes, S.].
BY WAY OF PREAMBLE
a) Fordham: an American university
1. To understand Fordham, it is necessary to recognize that it is
no longer a small Catholic college for men, loosely affiliated with a
cluster of professional schools. It is an institution of higher learning
that has taken on a life of its own, with all the strengths and strains
of the evolving American university.
2. The students are different from the students of thirty, twenty
or even ten years ago. Like their contemporaries in other universities, they are critical, demanding and unwilling to submit to regulations formed without their consent. They are highly qualified,
competitive and increasingly interested in academic careers. They
expect Fordham to provide them with an educational experience
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which will be richer and more meaningful than that offered by other
universities. Graduate students are drawn from a wider variety of
backgrounds, and they have begun to play a much more active role
in the student life of the University, expressing their own demands,
articulating their own priorities.
3. The faculty is different. Lay professors are in the majority in
all but one or two departments. No longer are they typically the
graduates of Fordham or other Catholic institutions. A larger proportion are non-Catholics. They are selected for their academic
competence and, like their peers in other American universities,
they insist on a role in shaping university policy. They would not
come to Fordham, nor would they stay, unless they found an atmosphere where academic freedom prevailed, where promotion was
based on professional competence and where intellectual creativity
was encouraged.
4. Fordham's administration is different. It is larger and more
complex. Laymen :fill many of the most signi:6cant posts. The possibility of a Jesuit impact coming from above has necessarily and
legitimately declined. As in other American universities, policy must
be developed in consultation with the faculty and, to a greater and
greater extent, with the students as well.
b) Financial and legal situation
1. Before making any sweeping proposals or reaching any finn
decisions suggesting any concrete action, this Committee should
ideally have made a detailed review of Fordham's financial position
and prospects for the futtfre. Such a review was impossible. One
feature of the financial situation, seems, however, to be clear: not
only Fordham, but the private American university more generally,
finds that maintaining a large university above the level of mediocrity demands expenditures of money far beyond what tuition and
gifts can supply. Thus there is an increasing urgency for public aid,
if Fordham is to continue its pursuit of excellence. Substantial
insertion of Jesuit talent and manpower can hardly be justified unless
the University continues this pursuit of excellence.
2. As long, however, as the Fordham position demands that the
President of the University be a Jesuit, and that the Trustees all be
Jesuits, it may well be that the State cannot, or will not, supply this
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funding. Accordingly, it is not so paradoxical as it may sound to
say that continued effective "Jesuit presence" at Fordham may
actually be imperiled by insistence on continued "Jesuit control" of
the University. We may be faced, therefore, with the need of making
a graceful, gradual, and rationally planned withdrawal from positions of ownership and administrative authority, and of achieving
a profounder influence by concentrating on the real and effective
Jesuit presence as faculty members.
3. The Gerli Foundation study, now under way, is determining
what changes in administrative structure and in the composition of
the Board of Trustees would give Fordham a parity with other private universities in New York State and elsewhere in regard to
obtaining public support. The results of that study should clarify
Fordham's legal position in this important matter of finance.
I) }ESUIT PRESENCE AND IMPACT AT FORDHAM
a) Jesuit and lay faculty
Given the present stage of Fordham's evolution as a university,
sketched above, it seems clear that the quality, emphasis and volume
of Jesuit presence there, will and should be more decidedly in its
faculty than in its administration. Hence it seems important to make
the following observations about Jesuit commitment to the University faculty and about our relationship with the non-Jesuit faculty.
1. Jesuit Faculty. a) Because of the specifically academic nature
of our apostolate at the University, the primary norm for selecting
the Jesuit faculty should be the same as that for selecting the faculty
of any good university-professional academic competence. For a
university to be truly Catholic, it must first be substantively a university. In an important and overriding sense, then, Jesuit presence
and apostolic efficacy will be strongest in proportion to this excellence, since this is the personal and corporate focus of our apostolic
endeavors.
With this in mind, Jesuit academic presence should, ideally at
least, be as varied and universal as possible, not only to be pervasive, but more importantly, so as truly to reflect the wholeness
or totality of knowledge essentially involved in the ideals of a liberal
education and of university scholarship.
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b) Inside this ideal, our scholarly and educational purposes
should be characteristically Catholic in fostering and bearing academic witness to the whole of human culture in a Catholic manner.
The more particular witness we bear to the specifically Catholic
and Christian elements of this culture constitutes a vital service to
our modem, pluralistic American society. ·while, on the one hand,
we would shun any merely propagandistic or apologetic kind of
service, on the other, as Jesuit scholars and teachers we have a
unique opportunity and, indeed, demand upon us to explain and
develop the peculiar contribution of the tradition of Catholic faith
and wisdom to the American and larger human culture. In this, our
function must be both general in scope yet specific in focus, and in
this way it will be our substantial contribution to ecumenical living
in· .our pluralistic society.
c) It follows that our corporate and personal presence should
not be limited to any specific academic disciplines. The nature of
a university, rather than any pragmatic though well-intended patchwork of means-to-ends, should guide our policy of Jesuit presence.
The variety of natural talents and interests should guide the preparation of young Jesuits for faculty positions. It is natural to expect
that religiously dedicated men will frequently opt to specialize in
Theology in larger numbers than in other subjects. Indeed, one
peculiarly characteristic contribution that a Catholic university has
to offer resides in this area. But we should not consider this our
unique and exclusive or even necessarily dominant contribution. A
larger view of Catholic culture is both necessary and, with the
passing years, becoming more and more clear. vVe should stress the
importance of the Jesuit contribution at Fordham in all fields of
scholarship.
d) To maintain our apostolate at the same level of efficacy, five
or six Jesuits with doctoral degrees must be added to the Fordham
faculty each year. Of the 128 Jesuits now engaged in teaching at
the University, within fifteen years 63 will no longer be on the
faculty, owing to mandatory retirement. Care should be taken that
specific planning be done to fill the needs of specific departments
by consultation in advance. An assurance of stability is a necessary
part of professorial efficacy, and should be recognized by Superiors
in assigning men to this work.
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e) Finally, strong emphasis should be placed on our communal
presence at Fordham, as opposed to a merely personal or individual
presence at some other university. Corporate effort and efficacy
among those with such strong cultural coherence cannot be underestimated. A university is a community of scholars. Our Jesuit unity
adds an enviable quality to this fundamental community, readily
recognized where effective. This does not preclude occasional
periods of study and teaching at other universities, which can have
their own enriching effects, but the corporate presence of Jesuits at
Fordham should be considered a very important contribution to the
work of the Society and of the Church in the university apostolate.
2. Lay Faculty. The cooperation of lay faculty is essential to our
educational endeavors. The example of dedicated laymen can be
most persuasive in demonstrating that Christian faith is compatible
with academic professionalism. Equally indispensable is the presence on our faculties of scholars whose dedication to truth commits
them to a profession of belief different from our own.
b) Implications of Jesuit presence
1. Jesuits at Fordham influence the University community primarily as scholars and educators. This must be acknowledged as
their primary mode of personalis alumnorum cura. Students have
always responded as much to the person of the teacher as to the
content of his course. Today's students affirm more explicitly that
people, above all, make the difference in their lives. Since his religious life and his priesthood form part of a Jesuit's personal
definition, his impact will be not just that of a scholar, but also
that of a priest and a religious.
2. The influence of a Jesuit upon his students inescapably extends
to other areas. Much of the counseling done by Jesuits, academic
or otherwise, is a prolongation of classroom contact. Classroom
contact has also led to less formal liturgical celebrations, to days of
discussion and recollection, and to social action beyond the confines
of the University.
3. There is a more organized and programmed form of Jesuit
Presence which is centered mainly in the Office of the University
Chaplain-an administrative post which as yet has no detailed job
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description, but which has been taking its shape according to the
needs of the University community which it serves. It has made
its most striking impact in the area of liturgical life. The Eucharist
is celebrated throughout the day in the many chapels of the University in an experimental, yet responsible, way. This is designed
to help the varied groupings of the University to worship with both
reverence and spontaneity. The University Chaplain is responsible
for scheduling the Masses; members of the Jesuit Community preside at the liturgies on a voluntary basis. They also volunteer for
the scheduled times of Confession.
4. The University Chaplain provides other opportunities for worship on a more occasional basis: series of University sermons, comrim.;tal celebrations of penance, services for the great feast-days,
weddings and funerals. Relatively large numbers of the Jesuit Community have participated actively in this ministry.
5. Much of the work formerly associated with the Student Counsellor has been taken over by other offices of the University. Today's
students prefer informal to programmed guidance. The Office of the
Student Counsellor still exists in attenuated form and is in a state
of transition.
6. Some student religious activities are organized in so far as
they have budgets, office space, elections, visible membership, etc.
The CCD comes under the University Chaplain, has a large student
membership, and contributes to the catechetical work of the Archdiocese. The Sodality has ~ponsored lecture series for the entire
student body. Originally fr(!m the Sodality, but now independently
of it, student groups have been formed which meet for three- to fiveday periods away from the campus, to discuss topics pertinent to
their lives as Christians. In all these activities, the students seek
and welcome Jesuit support and participation, but not Jesuit control.
7. The sketch of the Jesuits at Fordham would not be complete
without the inclusion of the Community at Murray-Weigel Hall. A
large number of its members have been exerting a strong and positive influence upon the students of the University. They not only
participate in the campus liturgies, but they assume leadership in
their planning and execution. They take part in the days of discussion and reflection away from campus. They engage in catechetical
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instruction and in social action. They mix with their fellow students
in a free and friendly manner, which opens an opportunity for the
working of God's grace.
II) }ESUIT IMPACT ON THE WIDER COMMUNITY
A. Increasingly over recent years, Fordham Jesuit faculty members have enriched the academic world with scores of high-caliber
scholarly publications. But their contribution to the non-academic
world was eloquently illustrated in Fr. Joseph Fitzpatrick's (avowedly incomplete) sketch of these endeavors at the Morristown Conference. Some of those contributions need only be recalled here:
they include the now-defunct Nativity Project; professional training
of Negro and Puerto Rican minority groups to cope with their problems in education and social action; direction of the Community
Action Legal Services project, providing legal services for the poor;
the economic survey of the Bronx and the plans for the economic
development of the Brooklyn Navy Yard area. The report cited, as
well, work in developing new TV and film techniques for educating
the disadvantaged. Fordham Jesuits have also been involved in research on the causes and treatment of juvenile delinquency, and in
the establishment of the Institute of Intercultural Communication
in Ponce, Puerto Rico.
It should be stressed that all of these activities represent, in
Fitzpatrick's words, the kinds of "university service which require
a high level of training and skill, but which can be provided only
by university personnel"-a typically university-level style of impact,
but one that is indispensable to those engaged in the more immediate and short-run types of influence on these varied problems.
B. The specifically Catholic contribution of Fordham as a university became clear when a highly satisfactory Seminar for Bishops
was held to ponder the implications of the Second Vatican Council
for the American scene. Comparable programs drawing on Fordham's unique resources have been offered in the past to Religious
Superiors, to Guidance Counsellors, and to high-school teachers of
religion, among other groups.
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III) jESUITS AND THE UNIVERSilY ADMINISTRATION
a) The board of trustees
The conclusions of the Gerli Foundation study (see above) may
introduce some more specific requirements about the constitution
of the Board of Trustees. But meantime, the following observations
can confidently be made:
1. The evolution of this University in breadth and variety of
personnel must be reflected in a broader composition of its Board
of Trustees.
2. This should include representatives from all segments of the
community-Catholic and other-which the University serves.
3., The membership of the Board of Trustees should include
academic people from other universities. In order to provide the
faculty with an effective voice in shaping University policies, study
should be given to the advisability of including some senior faculty
members from the University itself.
4. A primary consideration in selecting Trustees should be their
understanding of and commitment to Fordham's traditions and
educational ideals.
b) Other administrative posts
Decisions as to what posts are to be held by Jesuits should be
made by the competent University authorities, in the light of available manpower, qualifications, and the needs of the University at
_:
the time.
! ~>j:,
IV)
THE JESUIT COMMUNilY AT FORDHAM
A. This Committee was of the view that the remarks on Community in the Morristown report were applicable to all communities, and did not constitute a specifically university, or Fordham
University, problem. In so far as such problems exist, they should
be dealt with by already functioning Community Councils.
B. One caution might usefully be entered here: the Fordham
''Kremlin" (Loyola and Faber Halls) tends to impress the outsider, students and younger Jesuits included-as a somewhat monolithic
· and forbidding enclave. Its reality, though, is more complex. Our
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experience is that, at Fordham at least, the large community tends
naturally to form into a number of nuclear communities, on the basis
both of interest and congeniality; that these (for the most part)
blend easily into one another and into the single whole, depending
on occasions; that their presence inside a single large community
helps to keep them from becoming isolated and relatively closeminded cliques.
C. ·would the formation of much smaller communities (twentyfive or so would seem too large for this) encourage a kind of social
contact with interested students, with additional apostolic impact?
It would be valuable to compare the experience of apartment-living
and its advantages in this respect.
CONCLUSION: JESUIT COMMITMENT TO FORDHAM
A fundamental postulate of these recommendations has been that
the primary role of the university is intellectual, that is, involvement
in the scholarly and intellectual world which seeks to preserve that
which is valuable in man's heritage; to develop new knowledge and
new perceptions of truth which contribute to man's continued enrichment; to form today's youth intellectually to receive the legacy
of the past and to participate effectively in the intellectual work
of the future. Therefore, scholarly work, research, writing and
counseling define the dimensions of the contribution a university
makes to the city of man. This is related both directly and indirectly
to the more immediate styles of the contemporary apostolate: the
measure of the impact a university makes is not exclusively its
influence on the scholarly world but also on the civic community
as well. Fordham has tried to respond to some of the more urgent
social and economic questions arising from our ever-expanding
urban megalopolis. The work done by members of the Fordham
Community has been far-reaching in its apostolic and social implications and effectiveness.
We must, however, be alert to the danger of accepting quick and
falsely apologetic solutions to problems of either an academic or
sociological nature. There is no substitute for solid intellectual
scholarship and patient research in those areas where the movement
of ideas is a vital under-current to social, economic, political and
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ecclesial changes. The Society's historic sensitivity to the power of
ideas has, from Trent onwards, traditionally placed her in the forefront of this type of \vork. The singular service that a Jesuit university can contribute to the Church and to human culture, at this
moment in history, dictates that we make every effort to continue
supplying men to the work that is being done at Fordham.
* * *
REPORT OF THE SPECIAL COMMITTEE
ON SECONDARY EDUCATION
*
I) TOWARD A VISION
are meant to be simultaneous
translations of the one vision of the committee of what the Jesuit
secondary school ought to be. In a way, they add up to a philosophy;
however, they do not thereby suggest a predigested abstraction
which provides all the answers. As will be seen, the Jesuit school
itself must always be in process; it must be a matter of creation for
both the teachers and the students involved.
THE FOLLOWING THREE COMMENTS
(a) The old and new mandate
Two of the essential marks of the early Society were that it was
involved in the meaningful ciises of its time and that it was adaptable not only to changes of ""concepts but, perhaps more important,
to changes in process and manner of imparting this knowledge.
Vatican II, by opening up the view of the Catholic church to a
world-wide perspective and by emphasizing and by releasing the
changes necessary to bring Christ into the heart of the world, has
re-stated most strongly these early qualities of the Society. The
Church now has the mandate to become oriented to problems and
" In the Morristown Conference Report, the Paper on Secondary Education
states: "It is the unanimous judgment of this Conference that the Provincial
for Secondary Education set up the best and strongest committee, composed
, of men with ideas about these questions, to study them and report prior to the
• meeting of the Fathers Provincial in July" (p. 21}.
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to change. By some strange paradox, the most advanced secular
educational theory is also promoting the same two characteristics:
(1) learning by creative and productive solutions to actual problems, and ( 2) discovering structures of change necessary to implement this process. This committee believes that the Society of Jesus,
because of its tradition of suppleness and its ability to face actual
problems, has a unique opportunity in its educational institutions
to combine the mandate of the Church and the most effective educational practice of our time.
The Christian must find Christ in the world. We feel that it is
the duty of a Jesuit school to allow our students to discover by
action, by creativity and by experience the many faces of Christ
hidden in the multiple problems of the world.
We feel that growth in Christian knowledge can be effected only
by the creative application of all the student's power to all of the
actual problems of his real environment.
The characteristic marks of this kind of education would be:
( 1) that it deal in thematic units rather than with fragmented
bits of information,
( 2) that the student learn by discovery rather than by the
acquisition of pre-packaged answers,
( 3) that the student learn in his real, total environment rather
than by being confined to an isolated school building,
( 4) that the teaching process use all contemporary media
rather than relying exclusively on the traditional media of
the textbook and the spoken word,
( 5) that there be as much concern that the student learn how
to learn as there is for his mastery of the subject matter,
( 6) that there be a recognition of vastly different growth rates
in individual students,
( 7) that there are certain goals which can be achieved only if
the faculty plan, implement, and evaluate together,
( 8) that it be recognized that the very physical facilities of the
school must form an environment in which creative learning is possible.
We feel that these qualities are not merely good educational
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devices but that they are absolutely essential for the development
of a Christian attitude which would not be self-centered, but which
would be involved creatively in the problems of the real world;
which would, in other words, engage the student in the task committed to him by St. Ignatius and Vatican II.
(b) Faith or despair
Contemporary theologians repeat again and again that all fixed
formulas of revelation are inadequate expressions of the fullness of
revelation in Jesus Christ. Revelation may also occur in our living,
particularly when we respond in charity to our fellow man or when
we mentally conquer the secrets of the universe in which we live.
Je.~uit education must take this as a starting point. Our attitude
must be that the more a student experiences and creates, the more
possibility there is that he will encounter the revealing God. Where
do our schools and teachers fit in? They must first of all provoke
and broaden these experiences; secondly, they must channel the
student and his responses so that God can be found. For God will
not be the knapsack the student carries with him; he will be the undiscovered horizon toward which the student travels and which
draws him on in his explorations.
This contemporary student, moreover, experiences more diverse
and confusing situations than ever before. Through the media, he
lives in a burning land in Southeast Asia, watches students like
himself in physical struggle with their schools and the police in New
York and Paris, and agoniz~ with the destitute mother of ten in
Appalachia. These experiences can either prod him to build a
Christianity of the future which explains this world or drive him
to cynicism about the value of the human effort. The Jesuit school
must take up the effort of promoting the former. \Ve must set about
finding ways to help him in this.
In summary, we must:
( 1) encourage the student to experience more of this '~orld,
( 2) get him to respond by creatively expressing his reaction,
and
( 3) help him to see these experiences as loci of faith rather
than of despair.
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(c) A vision of service
We feel that we should never lose sight of the ideal that Jesuit
education should be unique and that its uniqueness should come
not only from its academic competence or humanistic insights, but
from its creative vision which teaches, not in words alone, a loyalty
and vision which comes from service within the Church.
Today, we consider that the strongest force for ferment and
change is student initiative and power. \Ve cannot suppress this
power by ignoring it nor can we solve such restlessness by giving
in to it. We can harness it by directing it and involving it in a new
type of "reality education."
\Ve believe that a school should enable a boy to grow up with
his peers but that he should never be isolated from the problems
of his times. \Vhether we like it or not, young men will eventually
involve themselves in their own adolescent way into movements
of reaction. We could establish pilot schools which could tap this
adolescent restlessness by pinning them to an exacting, relevant
program of experiential study which would toss them directly into
encounters with the poor and at the same time control their naive
reactions by showing them how to cope with a problem without
destroying, but rather by building.
We have found the in-service center concept to be one of the
valuable and educative aspects of emotional growth. Through monitored experience, the idealistic, restless student no longer makes a
career of adolescence but gracefully steps into adult attitudes and
idealism. \Ve think that we should enable the student by truly
creative scheduling and programming to taste, feel and work with
the major problems of his times. He can be guided into experiencing the conflict of the Rich and the Poor, the White and the
Black, and the multiple developments of communications and media.
We also feel that we can do this through the Church and especially through the ministerial structure of the Society of Jesus where
for once the student might get a realistic view of the vital and
compassionate Christ at work. ( Cf. R. McGuire, S.J., "New Viewpoints on Foreign and Domestic Service in Jesuit Education," The
Jesuit [March-April, 1968].)
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II) IMPLEMENTING THE VISION
In this matter we must rush in where angels fear to tread. Disturbing the structure of fifty- or hundred-year-old schools is tricky
business, but somewhere a beginning must be made. The committee selects four areas for specific comment.
(a) The mechanism of change
The committee is deeply concerned about the fact that nothing
has been done about the many valuable recommendations and
evaluations of past documents and committees such as itself.
(1) We feel that there have been difficulties at all levels of
educational structure which militate against the implementation of change. Some of these difficulties are selfsatisfaction, apathy, insecurity, lack of time, lack of professional information, and a certain one-sided and monolithic quality in the decision-making process.
( 2) \Ve recommend, therefore, that certain immediate and
practical steps be taken:
(A) that Fr. Provincial, as soon as possible (perhaps even
for the July meeting), consult with professional help
to advise him how a school system can overcome these
obstacles to change. Such professional organizations
have already been most useful to school systems and
to business organizations in beginning and continuing
the necessary process of self-renewal.
(B) that evaluating committees be set up, comprised of
members from outside the particular institution to be
judged; that the negative report of such an evaluating
committee would result in such steps as the removal
of the personnel blocking the necessary changes, the
phasing out of the school, etc.; that such evaluation
be made frequently, perhaps even every two years.
(C) that a Research and Development office be set up at
the provincial level; that the function of this office
would be to communicate to the members of the
province the latest developments in education and the
opportunities available for improvement, to assist each
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school practically in implementing the discoveries they
have made; that a corresponding committee be set
up in each school.
(b) Flexibility of curriculum and method
We need teachers who are possessed of the true Catholic attitude of mind
which should be soaring, anti-pedantic, open-minded, and filled with respect
for reality. \Ve need what someone has called the evocative teacher who brings
out responses that are personal and dynamic, and who knows that human
growth is experimental, slow but curious, real only if independent, assisted
only if encouraged, successful only after floundering. This is . . . the time
to study how to improve our schools and to endeavor to make them more
adapted to a world which is taking shape and being put together before our
very eyes. There must be room for experimentation and innovation in our
educational planning. Our schools must never confine themselves to past
patterns. 1
The spirit of our times, the spirit of the Church and the findings
of developmental psychology all indicate strongly that effective and
Christian education of adolescents must concentrate primarily on
personal assimilation by students of skills and insights; on individualized learning according to competence, readiness and interest of each student; on more opportunity for each student to share
in the decisions and responsibility in his own education. These
goals cannot be reached through a school program of fixed schedule
of 45-minute periods, of segmented subjects and forced uniform
progress.
Therefore we recommend as essential that each high school plan
and implement a flexible program along the following lines. (Many
of the following ideas are already operative in the best American
high schools. )
( 1) Subject areas: vVe consider these five subject areas essential for each year:
(a) Communications (Languages, literature, art, film, etc.)
(b) Science
(c) Mathematics
(d) Social Sciences
(e) Theology
1
Letter of Father General Arrupe to the \Vestern Catholic Education Association, ]EQ 30 ( 1967) 128.
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Faculty teams should establish the basic content for each
area for each year. They will also plan for inter-area programs. ( Cf. ( 5) below.)
( 2) Individualized program and levels: Appropriate faculty
teams should decide the level of competence of each student in each area, and the student's program should be
planned accordingly. The faculty team should find or
develop equivalency tests to determine each student's level.
Those students who have demonstrated-at the beginning
of the year or later-sufficient competence to by-pass the
basic instruction in an area, can be set free for a program
of independent study under a mentor, or begin a special
project under a mentor. Those students who show little or
no competence in an area will spend as much time as
needed to assimilate it, using as much as possible pro·
grammed learning materials. There may be intermediate
levels with appropriate programs. The program of all students must include group discussion and conferences with
teachers so that their learning may move toward a more
creative or synthetic method.
( 3) Variability of groups: Large-group instruction should be
limited to occasional lectures, films, and the presentation
of material that can best be presented in that way. Normal
procedure should be small-group discussions, projects,
meetings with teachers and individual study and work.
This, of course, will necessitate changes in the way we
presently use instru~tional space: more small rooms, study
carrels, resource centers, teachers' offices, etc. There is
already, however, much easily convertible space: activities
offices, cafeterias, etc.
( 4) The amount of time given to any particular subject by an
individual or group will vary with the needs of the individual and group. Once a student in a lower group has
mastered the material considered minimal for that group,
he may be moved to a higher level and a more independent method of discovery and instruction.
( 5) Interdisciplinary learning: At least one semester project
should cross subject-area lines to synthesize insights dis-
258
�SECONDARY EDUCATION
covered in the separate areas, e.g., violence as a factor in
history, religion, literature, films, art. At least one of these
cross-discipline projects should include theology. At least
one project per semester should be a group project, to
capitalize on the essentially social aspects of learning.
( 6) Faculty coordinating items: To organize, coordinate, and
assess progress in these projects, each year should have a
coordinating team composed of teachers in each of the
five areas mentioned in ( 1). It will be their function to
judge which ability/performance level a particular student
should enter, discuss his particular program and assess its
progress with the individual student, judge when the student is ready to move up to another level, etc. \Ve estimate that there should be a team of five teachers for every
eighty students.
The team must meet frequently at scheduled times. In
many cases, the help of paraprofessionals is recommended,
e.g., novices, teacher trainees, former-teacher parents, etc.
This function would also be an opportune way to evaluate
potential regents. The school librarian can be a crucial factor in planning programs. The teachers will need a new
professional understanding of their changed role in a
changed program.
Conclusion: \Ve feel strongly that such a flexible structure is an
essential means to attain the goals indicated in part one. There we
recommend that each school be required to begin next September
a year-long study and plan of such a new system. The faculty will
need help to understand and accept it.
The new program in each school should begin in September,
1969, and be fully in operation in the academic year, 1970-71.
(c) Selecting students
One prerequisite to asserting our own distinctiveness is a willingness to risk the charge of arrogance because our admissions
policy seems to claim we are better than everyone else. If we do
not take that risk we will be no better than anyone else.
We must make the decision to leave the training of rich or poor
untalented students to someone else, who are most often better
259
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
trained and better able to do that job than we are. \Ve do not
ordinarily enlist young men in our novitiates who are even trainable
to teach basic or remedial subjects, and our present Masters Degree
program makes such teachers from our ranks even less likely. We
can be kind, make the coming-to-school pleasant, but someone else
is eminently more efficient and professional in that area. This
tightening of admissions policies would also go a long way to easing
our problems of recruitment among scholastics and young priests
for work in our high schools.
\Ve must therefore restrict our student bodies to the most talented
boys we can find. It is the boy of more than ordinary talent toward
whom the quality of our training has been pointing us for fifteen
years.
The meaning of the word "talented" must be made very clear.
Its overuse has restricted it to those with intellectual talent. This
aspect of the word is only part of what we mean here. To intelligence we would add the qualities of creativity, leadership, and
unselfishness. These cannot be tested by entrance examinations, IQ
tests or grammar school report cards nor by declarations from the
boy himself or frequently over-anxious teachers. They can be discovered only by personal and repeated contact with the individual.
Henceforth, then, we must speak not of "admissions policies" but
of "recruitment techniques." \Ve must no longer choose from the
boys who want to come to us; we must go out and find the boys
we want to come to us.
One effective source of these evaluative personal contacts we
already have in our paramirl'fstries. One can tell, for instance, in any
H.A.P. program where there are seven or eight boys together which
boys wordlessly command the respect of their peers, which take
charge of jobs, which offer the more constructive and creative
responses to real and fabricated problems. These are the boys we
must convince to come to our schools.
A second source of these "talented" boys is a recruiting agent,
Jesuit or lay, who will scout the local grammar schools, private and
public-much as our present vocations-directors do for candidates
to the Society.
One of his prime sources must be ghetto elementary schools.
: Besides the call of the Gospel, Fr. General's directives, the govern-
260
�SECONDARY EDUCATION
ment, the mass media, we are called by the evidence of our own
eyes and our own consciences to give much more of our efforts to
the education of the poor. If every adolescent's search for values is
painful, the ghetto adolescent's struggle is too often desperate. The
most relevant issues today and for a long time to come are: poverty,
race, and violence. The most relevant moment to cope with these
issues is at their inception in the individual, at the beginning of
awareness in the ghetto youth who is surrounded by these awesome
and confusing forces all day long (and in the suburban youth who
can remain aloof from them). The Society already has in its hands
a most relevant means for grappling with these core issues at their
most susceptible moment: the secondary school. \Ve cannot, however, merely hope that talented-but-impoverished boys will "tum
up." We must beat the hills for them. If it means that rich talented
boys pay $1000 tuition so that poor talented boys can pay nothing,
so be it. But we must give both rich and poor an education worth
$1000 more than the local public school's.
The recruitment officer's activity should by no means be confined
to Inner City schools but include middle-class and affluent neighborhoods as well. We must imbue tomorrow's middle class with a
realization of their responsibility to help the poor. We must also
never forget that Christ himself said the rich would have a harder
time getting into the Kingdom than the poor.
Scientific studies and experiments give ample proof that we
should strive for schools which have a racial and economic mix
rather than one affluent school and one all-ghetto school. The
strengths of distinct groups are educative for the other in very
definite ways.
Participation in diocesan entrance examinations, if continued,
should be only one source of candidates and one indication of a
candidate's acceptability.
Concretely, we must commit ourselves to a recruitment policy
and an educational program which accepts only those boys we
prudently judge capable of changing the world. We must search
out and educate the future mayors and city planners who will deslum our cities, the future teachers, writers, television commentators,
artists, film directors who will shape the future in a significant way.
We must judge ourselves by our graduates, affluent or impover261
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
ished. Are they committed to the College Boards, money, social
status, and cocktail-party liberalism? Or are they committed to
bettering human life-in the ghetto or on Madison Avenue-motivated internally, long after they have left our sanctions and our
prodding, by human concern and by a union with Jesus Christ.
(d) Faculty problems
Lost for time, the committee regrets its slighting this crucial area.
Discussion centered mainly on faculty recruitment.
The recruitment of laymen: \Ve sketch the following suggestions:
alumni talent scouts, particularly those teaching in college; liaison
with Jesuit colleges for potential teachers; the necessity for the
applicants' sharing in the ideals of this report; frankness with the
appficants that in the face of decreasing Jesuit manpower they will
play a more responsible role; the use and wooing of practice teachers in the last years of their college training.
The recruitment of Jesuits: this process is critical. The meaning
given to "Jesuit presence" in part one of this report at least presumes
Jesuits present to carry it out.
The committee presents a carefully worked out model for promoting the interests of younger Jesuits in the secondary school.
The model applies in its particulars to students at Shrub Oak. But
its spirit applies also to priests finishing studies or already in colleges or high schools, should they wish to move into more vital
institutions on the secondary level.
~
.
Suggested program for recruitment
Goals: (a) to make the scholastics more aware of the needs and
possibilities of the high schools; to help them more realistically
prepare for this in their choice of majors and in their understanding
of the adolescent;
(b) to pressure the individual schools to improve themselves.
In order to compete for available scholastics, they must articulate
new goals and programs, continue re-evaluation, and remain open
to innovation.
Procedure: during first-year philosophy: One day should be de.' voted to an explanation of the program, a projection of the direc-
262
�SECONDARY EDUCATION
tions in which the schools are moving, and the possibilities for
interested regents. There should be at least one representative from
each school, but the group should form a cross-section of the faculty
and administration (headmaster, counsellor, priest-teacher, regent,
layman, etc.) All of these persons would be available for a press
conference or individual/ group discussions afterwards.
Second-year philosophy-visits to the schools:
( 1) Each school advertises what is happening and what opportunities are available in the school. It makes this pitch by sending
a team to Shrub Oak.
( 2) Each scholastic visits two schools for a period of one week
in each of the schools. He may be assigned during this time to be
an understudy to a good Regent, to assist on school retreats, to
attend the liturgy with the students, find out about after-school
activities, etc.
( 3) Several scholastics should visit each of our schools so they
can discuss the merits of each among themselves.
( 4) There should be a period of mutual evaluation (the applicants evaluate the schools and the schools evaluate them). This
should provide the schools with some legitimate, first-hand information about the scholastics, who should also be invited to participate in the summer H.A.P. programs, where their ability to communicate intellectually and socially could be evaluated.
( 5) About a month after the applicants visit the schools, teams
of representatives from each school should visit Shrub Oak to be
available for conferences and discussions with those interested.
Third-year philosophy-a month-by-month approach:
October: Each school sends a list of academic and extra-curricular
job opportunities.
December: Scholastics apply for jobs in two high schools, indicating first and second choices. Both high schools involved will be
informed of the two choices and the preferences. If any information
on the number of years one is to be available for high school teaching can be obtained, this should also be noted. References should
also be included with the application.
January: The applicants are interviewed by the schools of their
choice.
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
February: Schools notify of acceptance (one acceptance only for
each scholastic). The school listed as first choice has the first opportunity to hire the applicant. If the school of first choice does not
want the applicant, the school of the second choice may accept him.
If neither school wants the man, he goes job hunting.
Problems: (a) Some high school groups constitute merely a segment of the larger Jesuit community in which they live. Factors in
community life not directly under the control of the high school
sub-community might diminish the potential for recruiting.
(b) In extraordinary cases, the Provincials with the headmasters
may set a maximum number of regents for a school.
(c) The needs of the Church may in a given period conflict with
the_ interests of the Jesuit applicants. If such a situation arises,
however, re-education rather than an abandonment of the above
program would be the desideratum.
Shrub Oak, New York
20-23 June 1968
Committee on Secondary Education
Rev. Edtcard D. Horgan, S.]., Chairman
Rev. Donald G. Devine, S.].
Rev. John P. Flynn, S.].
Rev. Robert]. Keck, S.].
Rev. Edtcard]. Lavin, Sj: _
Rev. Robert A. McGuire, S).
Rev. William]. O'Malley, S.].
Mr. Gerard C. Reedy, S.].
Rev. Edmund G. Ryan, S.].
264
���WOODSTOCK
LETTERS
SUMMER
VoLUME
98
1969
NuMBER
3
�INTRODUCfiON
IN THE :MANY JESUIT CONFERENCEs of renewal going on all over the
country, the words "retirement" and "geriatrics" begin to show up
more and more. What has the American Society done, what will it
do, for its men in or approaching retirement? To further the disCl!_s.sion, wooDSTOCK LETTERS publishes three papers on the subject.
We. owe a debt of thanks first to Rev. John D. Zuercher, S.J., Rector
of Jesuit College, St. Bonifacius, Minnesota, and to those who made
his research article possible. The two other reports were received
through the kindness of Rev. John V. Driscoll, S.J., Dean of the
Boston College Graduate School of Social Work, and Rev. Frederick
L. Canavan, S.J., Dean of the School of General Studies, Fordham
University. In the next issue we hope to publish a bibliography on
the subject of retirement and geriatrics.
Rev. Joseph A. Bracken, S.J., teaches philosophy at St. Mary of
the Lake, Mundelein, Illinoi.s; his graduate specialization in Kant
and the German Idealists -is. evident in his against-the-trend discussion of the Exercises.
Rev. Lowrie J. Daly, S.J., is Editor of Manuscripta, published at
St. Louis University. His essay reminds present day reformers what
can and shouldn't happen to plans for renewal.
Finally, Rev. Edward V. DeSantis, S.J., a graduate student in
English at Brown University, reviews and comments upon Fr. Berrigan's new collection of poems, composed over the last year of his
extraordinary life.
G.C.R.
�CoNTENTS
SUMMER,
1969
INTRODUCTION
277
A SYMPOSIUM ON PRE-RETIREMENT AND RETIREMENT FOR
RELIGIOUS
What 1600 Priests Think of Pre-Retirement and Retirement • John D. Zuercher, S.].
299
Report of the New England Province Commission on
Gerontology and New Ministries
307
Report on Mid-Career Planning Workshop, 1968
319
THE DOUBLE "PRINCIPLE AND FOUNDATION" IN THE
SPIRITUAL EXERCISES •
Joseph A. Bracken, S.].
Lowrie J. Daly, S.].
354
FORTY YEARS AFTER •
363
NEW POEMS BY BERRIGAN •
Edward V. DeSantis, S.].
�FOR CONTRIBUTORS
WOODSTOCK LETTERS solicits manuscripts from all Jesuits on all topics
of particular interest to fellow Jesuits: Ignatian spirituality, the activities of
our various apostolates, problems facing the modem Society, and the history
of the Society, particularly in the United States and its missions. In general
it is our policy to publish major obituary articles on men whose work would
be of interest to the whole assistancy.
~L~tters of comment and criticism will be welcomed for the Readers' Forum.
Manuscripts, preferably the original copy, should be double-spaced with
ample margins. \Vhenever possible, contributors of articles on Ignatian spirituality and Jesuit history should follow the stylistic norms of the Institute
of Jesuit Sources. These are most conveniently found in Supplementary Notes
B and C and in the list of abbreviations in Joseph de Guibert, S.J., The Jesuits:
Their Spiritual Doctrine and Practice, trans. W. J. Young (Chicago, 1964),
pp. 609-16.
STAFF
Published by the students of Woodstock College. Editor: Edward J.
Mally, S.J. I Managing F;.ditor: Gerard C. Reedy, S.J. I Copy
Editor: Richard R. Galligan; S.J. I Associate Editors: Richard A.
Blake, S.J., J. Peter Conroy, S.J., James F. Donnelly, S.J., Paul L.
Horgan, S.J., Joseph J. Papaj, S.J., Joseph F. Roccasalvo, S.J., Patrick
H. Samway, S.J., Thomas H. Stahel, S.J. I Business Manager: Alfred
E. Caruana, S.J.
�WHAT 1600 PRIESTS THINK OF
PRE-RETIREMENT AND RETIREMENT*
some new data
]OHN
D. ZUERCHER, S.J.
of working people is so neglected in their old age
and disability as priests are." "Somehow, a change must take place
regarding the dispositions of priests to retire. 'You are a priest forever' seems to have been translated: 'You must always act the same,
and pretend you don't grow old.' " These words were written on
questionnaires sent to some 3,500 priests in various sectors of the
country, both diocesan priests and religious priests. The survey was
conducted at the request of the Committee which was planning for
this New Orleans Institute. People who are working in the area of
retirement or pre-retirement of priests know of many examples of
successful living and have very deep convictions as how to this
period of one's life can be lived more fully. What was needed, we
felt, was a survey of some of the facts and opinions given by a
number of priests themselves. With this information, hopefully a
more meaningful retirement program could be recommended.
"No OTHER GROUP
0
This paper was given at the Institute of Planning for Pre-Retirement and
Retirement of Priests, New Orleans, 20 January 1969. The full proceedings may
he obtained from the National Conference of Catholic Charities, 1346 Connecticut Avenue, Washington, D.C., 20037. The author is grateful to the
Elizabeth G. Quinlan Foundation for helping support this project. Also, this
study could not have been completed without the cooperation of Sr. Margaret,
D.C., Sr. Marion, S.S.J., Rev. William Kidd, S.J., and the bishops, provincials,
and directors of Catholic Charities in several dioceses.
277
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
The priests in three provinces of one religious order sixty years
or over were polled and the response of 59% was obtained. The
percentage returned from priests of all ages of two other religious
orders was 39% and 40%; five dioceses responded with the following percentages: 66%, 48%, 41%, 52%, 47%. The overall response
to the questionnaire was 48%.
The questionnaires were filled out anonymously in hopes that the
respondees would be much more honest in their answers. Since most
of the dioceses and religious orders were able to provide a list
of the ages of those to whom the questionnaire was sent, we are
able to make an estimate of the percentage of people who responded according to their age. Table I indicates this estimate.
Table I
Age
Percentage of Response
28
28-35
36-43
44-51
52-59
60-67
68-75
75
33%
57%
52%
56%
48%
39%
30%
29%
As people approach the retirement age, a smaller percentage of
them responded to the questiQnnaire. For those who are sixty-eight
or older, we might explain their lack of response due to ill health
or increased administrative responsibilities. Nevertheless, the men
in this same age group responding to the questionnaire frequently
showed patterns of opinion differing from other age groups.
The religious orders polled were from the Midwest and the East.
The dioceses were selected so that both large and small dioceses
were represented, the East, Midwest, South, and West also polled.
Both urban and rural dioceses were included in the survey as well
as those with well-developed retirement programs or programs
which are not developed at all. Several of the questions which were
asked of the priests had to be stated differently for the diocesan
.·priests and the religious, e.g. reference to the bishop or provincial.
278
�RETIREMENT
Therefore, two forms of the questionnaire were used, containing
common questions when possible. The questionnaires were scored
so comparisons could be made among dioceses, among religious
orders, the religious orders as compared to the dioceses, eight age
categories, and non-retired priests as compared to those who are at
least partially retired.
Some shortcomings
Before looking at some of the conclusions of the study, I would
like to point out some shortcomings. The percentage of response is
not as high as desirable; over 50% of the people did not respond,
and we do not know their opinions on retirement-except that they
presumably do not consider it important enough to fill this questionnaire. Secondly, we must always be cautious when interpreting
the questionnaire. vVhat a person says may not indicate precisely
with what he thinks. When dealing with a topic which generates
anxiety for many, the actual choice made by a young man now may
not coincide with his attitude when he approaches retirement. Also,
the sentence composition and particular sequence of questions in
any survey do to some extent shape the answers given. Questions
may be misread or misunderstood. Some of the respondees would
skip a question; why do they skip it? A non-response usually says
something, e.g. either they have no opinion, or they may have a
strong opinion, or they may misunderstand the question.
In order to allow for freedom of expression, an opportunity was
given for all to write further comments at the end of the questionnaire. I shall include some of these quotations in my report to you.
In spite of these shortcomings, much valuable information is
found in looking at what 1,600 priests did actually say about retirement and pre-retirement. I shall present you with some of the results
and suggested interpretations, carefully avoiding identification of
either diocese or religious order.
"Do you have a regular physical check-up, at least every other
year?" 55% of the people responding to this question answered
yes. Only 35% of those who are younger than twenty-eight had
such a physical check-up, but the 60-67 age category found 74%
having this biennial physical check-up. Very few priests com-
279
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
mented on the physical aspect of their retirement problem in the
comments which were made at the end of the questionnaire; future
physical ailments are unknown and possibly feared.
The physical disability of an aging person has great social and
psychological implications, and a further question was asked on
physical weaknesses or partial disabilities. Of course, disability increases with age, and according to Birren (Psychology of the Aging,
Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, 1964) impairments in vision and
hearing especially become evident after the age of fifty-five. The
responses are as follows to the question: "Please check if you have
any physical weaknesses or partial disabilities:"
(53) Hearing
·( 28) Sight (e.g. unable to read for more than half an hour)
- ·{ 30) Walking
(53) Ulcers
Other: ( 46) Heart Abnormality
( 31) Diabetes
( 18) Arthritis
Several mentioned respiratory problems, back problems, nerves, and
stomach ailments. One person responded that his physical weakness
and partial disability was "overwork."
"Do you consider yourself already retired from priestly activities?"
Table II
Age
_ ..:
..
Percent Saying No
92%
60%
36%
60-67
68-75
More than 75
Among the religious responding to this question, it becomes evident
that those in university teaching are retiring at an earlier age than
those involved in high school work or pastoral work. This is pre·
sumably due to the fact that they are integrated into a layman's
society where retirement is more closely regulated. High school
teachers also retire at a younger age than those in pastoral work.
A corollary to this is the possibility of "retraining" older priests who
are used to educational functions for pastoral work. Since many
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�RETIREMENT
priests in education have not engaged in extensive pastoral duties,
this "second career" might require some refresher courses.
One of the most interesting questions which was asked of the
priests concerned the method of retiring. "What do you consider
the best normal procedure or plan for determining the beginning
age for retirement from full-time work? (Check one only)" The
responses of over 1,100 diocesan priests are given in Table III.
Table III
15%
58%
26%
Automatic at a certain age
Possible at a given age (e.g., 68) and mandatory
at a certain age.
Determined individually for each person
The priests from dioceses representing large urban regions seemed
to favor the second response more than those who come from a
rural diocese. One priest mentioned "some priests should retire a
week after ordination."
It might be interesting to look at the age breakdown of those
who said that they would like to have the retirement age determined individually for each person. These responses are given on
Table IV.
Table IV
Age of Respondee 28
Percent Choosing
Individual
21%
Determination
29-35 36-43 44-51 52-59 60-67 68-75
16%
15%
21%
38%
42%
82%
75
67%
As you will see in Table IV, the percentage of priests who want
the retirement age determined individually increases very rapidly
as the priests reach the "normal" retirement age. Only 6% of the
priests in the 68-75 age category selected the second response of
this question. One priest writes: "Go slow in establishing a fixed
age-no matter what. There may not be enough priests to replace
us. Many parishioners look with disfavor on some retirements in
our diocese."
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Table V indicates how those who have been at least partially
retired answered this question as compared to those who are not
retired at all.
Table V
Retired
21%
Non-Retired
64%
May-Must
Individually
25%
60%
The subsequent question reads as follows: "If in your diocese
retirement from being a pastor or administrator would be possible
at a given age and mandatory at a later age, what should be these
age lexels?
( ·· ) Age at which one may retire as pastor or administrator
( ) Age at which all must retire if still active as pastor or
administrator"
Although 1,105 out of 1,124 diocesan priests responded to the previous question, only 784, or 321 fewer, answered this question asking for a mandatory retirement age. Apparently several who responded to the questionnaire felt that mandatory retirement would
be so unacceptable that they refused to specify an age.
Table VI
Age one
may retire
Less than 59
Less than 65
Less than 70
Percentage
Responses_:
3%
32%
94%
Age one
must retire
Less than 64
Less than 70
Less than 75
Percentage
Responses
2%
27%
88%
Older priests set the age for mandatory retirement at an older age.
For example, only 11% of the priests of the 52-59 age group thought
that the mandatory age retirement should be greater than seventyfive; however, 57% of the priests in the age category of 68-75
thought that the mandatory retirement age should be greater than
seventy-five.
The mandatory age was one of the most sensitive areas of the
q)-lestionnaire. "After hearing some of the bunk young _ _ _ __
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�RETIREMENT
are putting out, I would suggest for the good of the Church that
THEY BE RETIRED and allow some of the older _ _ _ __
to continue in some of the fine work they have done." "Put hemlock
into each priest's cocktail glass at his 65th birthday celebration."
"If there is a certain age for retirement, then ALL should comply
with the age limit: the Pope, Cardinals, Bishops, Priests." I believe
that the anxiety which a mandatory retirement age arouses could
be greatly diminished if a definite policy was established and announced. (This was mentioned by several of the priests.)
Policy and pastorates
Two other complications are related to the mandatory retirement
age. Some resent the fact that there are many exceptions to an
announced policy, with the implication that either the bishop or the
personnel board are playing favorites. Secondly, many priests living
in a large metropolitan area fear that a radical reduction of the age
of retirement may result in their becoming a pastor only briefly if
at all-some mentioned that they had been associate pastors for
over twenty-five years. One priest who might be caught in this
"squeeze play" suggested that he would readily pass up the pastorate if it was for the good of the Church. Incidentally, Crux of the
News in a report of priests' retirement given on September 27, 1968
stated that forty-one dioceses have a mandatory retirement age,
thirty have selected the age of seventy-five and eleven the age of
seventy.
"If others are to be consulted about your retirement, whom would
you want to be involved in this decision? (Check more than one if
you wish.)" Of the diocesan priests answering this question, the
following was the distribution:
( 554)
( 841)
( 254)
( 241)
The bishop
A Personnel Committee in the Diocese
The people in my parish
The assistants in my parish
Several priests named other persons whom they would like to have
consulted, such as physicians ( 42), friends, classmates, other priests,
etc. It is quite possible that these latter categories would have received more checks if they had been included among the specified
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
alternatives. It is interesting to note that the priests 36-43 years old
checked the Personnel Committee in the diocese twice as often as
the bishop in their responses; 60-67 year old priests checked the
Personnel Committee and the bishop equally; 68-75 year old priests
checked the bishop twice as often as the Personnel Committee. One
might speculate why there is this rather dramatic change as the
priests get older. Perhaps the bishop is a personal friend of a man
who has reached retirement age. The bishop himself in many cases
is older and might have more sympathy towards a priest who is
aging and yet not ready to retire. The bishop could be construed
as exemplifying the older system, the system which allowed almost
complete freedom to the individual pastor in determining his own
retirement age. Finally, some might feel that the bishop would deal
with -:r pastor more as an individual, more personally, than a committee would.
In a question asked of religious priests in a very similar vein, by
far the most popular response specifying whom the priest would
like to have involved in a retirement decision included both the
local superior and the provincial as well as the person himself.
There seemed also to have been a slight bias toward having the
provincial rather than the local superior if only one of the two
would be involved in such a decision.
56% of the diocesan priests who are still active say "yes" when
asked if they "regularly set aside or invest any of your own money
specifically for retirement?" A higher proportion of younger men
answered affirmatively though ·they invested less money annually.
Crux of the News reports th~t· retirement allowances for priests
range generally from $400 a month to $600 a month where programs
are well established.
On both the diocesan and the religious questionnaire I found that
more people anticipate that they will offer Mass or hear Confessions
regularly than actually do once they are retired. The two major
reasons for not engaging in this apostolate appear to be poor health
and the fact that many feel that they do not have opportunities for
giving incidental pastoral assistance. Several mentioned the lack of
this communication in the comments which they made at the end
of the questionnaire. Only three diocesan priests mentioned changes
mtheology as the reasons why they actually did not want to get
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involved in pastoral work, whereas nine of the religious responded
in this fashion. Some of the comments relating to pastoral work are
the following: they did not want to commit themselves too firmly
in the event bad health or inclement weather interfered; convenience was a factor for some, concerning distance travelled,
stairs, length of confessions, etc.; some were willing to engage in
this work if there was a pastoral need.
"If retired from full-time work, what works, projects, or apostolates have you found interesting and useful? . . . (If you have not
as yet retired, please anticipate your interests at the time of your
retirement, provided your health remains essentially as it is now.)"
Rank
( 1)
( 2)
( 3)
( 4)
( 5)
( 6)
( 7)
( 8)
( 9)
( 10)
( 11 )
( 12)
( 13)
( 14)
Offering Mass for laymen
Visiting hospitals
Hearing confessions
Visiting the elderly
Convert instruction
Consultant to other priests
Counseling students
Giving conferences, etc.
Writing and reviewing
CCD work
Lecturing
"Inner city" apostolate
Giving retreats
Tutoring
Those in the 44-51 age category ranked "visiting the elderly"
highest. Although the "Inner city" apostolate was most popular with
the young, only 3 out of 10 young priests checked it. Other popular
comments for activities were counseling of many types, missionary
work, remaining in a parish (this was stated in many ways). Other
suggestions which were less frequent are as follows: developing
cooperatives, T.V.-Rims, Vista, politics, computer programming,
working with Alcoholics Anonymous, graduate studies, farming or
manual work, experimental ministry (e.g. underground Church).
Several opted for a new career of one sort or another, e.g. "working in a retail liquor store."
The works, projects, or apostolates selected by the Religious
priests were very similar to those mentioned by the Diocesan priests
except that giving retreats, lecturing, and doing scholarly research
were ranked higher than for the Diocesan priests. Men retiring desire to continue in familiar activities.
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Recreational activities
A similar question was asked of those who had been retired or
not retired concerning recreational activities. The ranking in order
of importance of those mentioned by the respondees are as follows:
Rank
( 1) Reading
( 2) Visiting friends and
relatives
( 3) Going for a ride or trip
( 4) Walking
( 5) Chatting with other
'retired priests
( 6-)" Watching TV
( 7) Tennis and golf
( 8) Attending lectures,
concerts, visiting
museums, etc.
( 9) Swimming and sunning
~
( 10) Listening to hi-fi and radio
( 11) Having a drink with
friends
( 12) Attending sports events
( 13) Playing cards
( 14) Fishing and boating
( 15) Maintenance work,
painting houses, etc.
( 16) Gardening
( 17) Bowling
( 18) Playing musical
instrument
( 19) Learning to paint
The top five listed for religious were as follows: reading, community recreation, TV, going for a ride or a trip, and swimming.
The choice of reading as the most popular occupation can possibly
be explained from its availability, their familiarity with it, the independence of the person engaging in it. Note the advisability of
having a library available for. such people and possibly tapes and
records for those whose eyesight might be failing. Priests also suggested other activities of a recreational nature such as the following:
prayer (or spiritual exercises of one type of another), writing, hunting, getting a job in a resort, mountain climbing, taking a nap,
"enjoying the companionship of my wife." One man said that he
wants to be "a nice old man in the city slums."
The next question referred to the location of retirement. 61% of
those who were at least partially retired among the Diocesan Priests
actually were living in their last parish; however, only 13% of those
who answered the forced-choice question selected as their first
choice their "last parish." The ranking of the choices was as follows:
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Rank
( 1) A private home or apartment of your own
( 45% ranked this first)
( 2) A rectory of your choice, if there is room
( 3) Your last parish, in the rectory
( 4) A home for retired priests
( 5) With relatives or friends
( 6) A regular home for the aged provided there is a wing or
section set aside for priests
( 7) The seminary
( 8) Any regular home for the aged
39% of those who were retired selected "your last parish, in the
rectory" as their first choice. Older men chose this more frequently
(see Table VII).
Table VII
Selecting Last Parish First
Age
Percentage
in age
Category
28
6%
28-35 36-43
8%
13%
44-51 52-59 60-67 68-75
11%
11%
24%
34%
75
83%
The complimentary questionnaires sent to religious had the following ranking of responses.
( 1)
( 2)
( 3)
( 4)
( 5)
( 6)
The regular community house of your choice
Any regular community house
Novitiate, juniorate
An infirmary or house for retired community priests
Any regular home for the aged
A regular home for the aged provided there is a wing or
section for a small group (at least 6) community priests,
with a community infirmarian
It appears that the men wish to keep as much freedom as
possible in making their choice and freedom once they have selected
a residence. There is a tendency to want to remain where they are
when approaching retirement age. The older priests do not want to
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be abandoned: "Don't shelve old priests in the country where
there's nothing to keep up their interests." Likewise, I think we can
see a rather strong distaste for the notion of going to a retirement
home. "\Ve are becoming anti-old age. So often we think we fulfill
obligations with old age homes. I am not sure this is the most
Christian approach in many instances."
"If a home for retired priests were open outside your diocese
(e.g., in Arizona, Florida, California) with more adequate recreational and cultural opportunities as well as health services, would
you be content to move out of your diocese after retiring?"
40%
.19%
'15%
9%
17%
Yes
Yes, if it was extremely clear that I was incapacitated
and my health practically demanded it.
No
Emphatically no; I would be very much opposed to this.
Undecided
If we look more closely into the responses made by the priests to
this question, we find that the middle-aged priests seemed to favor
this change of location more than either the younger priests or the
older priests. (See Table VIII).
Table VIII
Age
"Yes"
28
52-59_.
29%
46%
18%
75
~
.-
Also, the diocesan priests seem to respond more positively than the
religious priests to this question, partly because they perhaps have
had more opportunity for more distant travel. Some of the places
listed are not close to the province territory of those polled. The
percentage of those who respond "emphatically no" increases when
the age of the respondent is over sixty-seven.
"Related to the needs of retiring priests, how would you evaluate
the plans and provisions made for retiring priests in your diocese?
, (This would include financial arrangement, facilities, programs,
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etc.)" The responses to this question are seen in Table IX. In addition to the responses given by all the dioceses, I have included the
percentage of those responding to each rating from diocese "X" and
diocese "Y."
Table IX
Rating
All Dioceses
Excellent
Good
Fair
Poor
Very Poor
Diocese
X
Diocese
14%
40%
28%
10%
7%
18%
48%
24%
6%
3%
3%
y
7%
0%
38%
51%
We can see the outstanding differences in attitude in Diocese X,
which has had a formal retirement program for at least two years,
and Diocese Y, which, according to Crux of the News, has "no
formal plan." This seems to dramatically argue for some kind of
plan for retirement.
"Granted that some pastors and administrators should retire before they are completely incapacitated, in your judgment what are
the reasons for their not retiring earlier? Rank the reasons in order
of importance until you exhaust those which you think are pertinent."
Rank
( 1) They sincerely believe they are still capable.
( 2) They have no place to live, no home.
( 3) They would have nothing to keep them busy.
( 4) They have insufficient funds.
( 5) They could do apostolic work, but it would not be
commensurate with their experience and capabilities.
( 6) There is nobody to take their place.
(7) They could offer no retirement for their housekeeper.
58% of the people responding to this question checked the first reason above as their first choice. Those who are sixty-eight and over,
however, mentioned that the absence of a place to live is the most
important reason for not retiring, though this is a small sample of
the total respondees. The responses to this question, otherwise, do
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not seem to be affected by age. Those who are at least partially
retired ranked insufficient funds and the lack of a place to live somewhat higher than those who have not retired.
"I feel accepted by the laymen I meet."
46%
48%
4%
0%
0%
Agree Strongly
Agree
Neutral
Disagree
Disagree Strongly
The 52-67 age group apparently do not feel quite as strongly accepted by the laymen as the rest of those who answered this
qq!'Jstion.
"I feel lonely and out of place with younger priests."
3%
10%
18%
45%
24%
Agree Strongly
Agree
Neutral
Disagree
Disagree Strongly
Although most of the respondees seemed to disagree with this statement, the young men disagreed much more radically than the older
men-implying that the older men as a matter of fact were not
quite as comfortable with the young men as the young men themselves were. There were snme rather hostile comments made by
older priests concerning so~e of the younger men wearing the
collar. For instance: "My sincere hope is that the young Turks moving into control will have enough tolerance to leave me in my
'ignorance' and my complacence, and most of all to my own devices
to occupy myself as long as health endures. I want none of their
1ove regimentation'."
"I would prefer to be some other place than where I am presently
living."
8%
15%
Agree Strongly
Agree
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20%
33%
25%
Neutral
Disagree
Disagree Strongly
Religious seem to be somewhat more satisfied with their location
than our diocesan priests. Perhaps they have been schooled to accept their assignments more philosophically or possibly they have
been able to influence the decision of superiors more than the
diocesan priest is able. The 60-67 age group among the diocesan
priests are the ones who are most strongly in disagreement with
this statement, i.e., they want to remain where they are.
"I could have personally prepared better for later years."
12%
34%
28%
20%
5%
Agree Strongly
Agree
Neutral
Disagree
Disagree Strongly
Religious rank this somewhat higher than the diocesan priests.
"Priests have developed sufficient side interests."
3%
22%
24%
42%
8%
Agree Strongly
Agree
Neutral
Disagree
Disagree Strongly
Religious responses are about the same as the diocesan priests to
this question. The men in the 60-67 age category are more strongly
in disagreement with this statement.
"I have developed interests beyond my routine work."
17%
57%
11%
12%
1%
Agree Strongly
Agree
Neutral
Disagree
Disagree Strongly
Religious respond slightly more positively to this statement, believ-
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ing that they have developed more outside interests. The 60-67 age
category is the most negative of all age categories responding to
this question.
"I look upon retirement with apprehension."
4%
14%
20%
41%
20%
Agree Strongly
Agree
Neutral
Disagree
Disagree Strongly
The 60-67 age group is slightly less negative than tl1ose who are
under 35 years. One man wrote: "I have always been contented in
th~ '
[name of religious order] and have never had a
superior that I would not have again. I have been treated well and
can't think of anything to suggest."
"I think it is important to prepare for old age."
45%
45%
8%
1%
1%
Agree Strongly
Agree
Neutral
Disagree
Disagree Strongly
Religious do not respond quite as positively as do diocesan priests,
but all are rather in agreement with the statement. This might well
be expected when it occurs a.t the end of a questionnaire on retirement. Also, the bias which we mentioned earlier might show up in
this question. That is, those not interested in retirement probably
didn't return the questionnaire.
Personal comment
The last section of the questionnaire included space for a personal
comment about the questionnaire as well as the process and details
of retirement. The fact that 664, or over one-third of the respondees,
took this opportunity to speak further indicates their concern and
interest in this problem. Of those who wrote, some 558 included
recommendations for how this process might be better accomplished, either for them personally or for priests in general.
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As might be expected, there were some (seventeen) criticisms of
the questionnaire, such as "I do not think anything will come from
this." A few thought the questions were asked too much in terms of
present Church structure. Some stated that the questionnaire did
not clearly enough separate the notion of retirement from a position,
such as pastor or administrator, from retirement from active work
as a priest. I think this distinction was present in the questionnaire
but perhaps not as clearly defined as it should have been. One
person also thought that the National Conference of Catholic
Charities should not be involved in this problem.
On the other hand, there were some forty-one persons who in
one way or another complimented the work of the questionnaire,
e.g., a few stated that they were happy that the National Conference of Catholic Charities was interested in this work, the manner
in which the questions were asked, etc.
Another large category of responses relates to the fears of retirement. Some forty people could be grouped under this category. For
instance, one priest wrote: "Death has been the only 'honorable'
option in the minds of many hard-working priests." Another commented: ''I'm ready at 59 to retire because I gave too many years
of office work away from Parish and People. Returning to Parish
work has been extremely difficult. However ill as I am, I have no
future so I'll have to play along until I hit the retirement age, I
guess." Another wrote: "I have retired: My family including my
parents and their children-all dead except myself-and lonely."
The following specific recommendations were made. 108 people
who responded mentioned that education in one way or another
would be an important aspect in trying to prepare people for retirement. Some stated this education should begin in the seminary.
Another writes: "Retirement should be a creative, dynamic part of
our lives, something we look forward to and prepare for just as we
did for our main ministry. How, How much, Where, etc. are the
problems of the 50's and 60's." We should be prepared to look upon
retirement as a tremendous opportunity rather than a prolonged
death experience; "our work ethic could rob retirement of any value
and make a man miserable and feel useless." Or as another one
stated: "So many of the younger priests have never considered the
possibility of retiring but rather of dying in the saddle, that retire-
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--
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----
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WOODSTOCK LETTERS
ment seems to them as a way of saying they are useless." Changing
these attitudes, and structures, requires education and communication.
Nearly 100 people mentioned in one way or another the desirability of having some kind of diocesan or national organization
to serve as a clearing-house where a priest who is retired could
leave his name and indicate the type of activity in which he would
be interested, especially pastoral activity. ~lany seem to feel that
there are situations and locations where retired priests could be
useful, but they do not know where they are. If a retired priest had
the possibility of being in contact with a pastor who had this need,
both the retired person and the pastor could benefit.
Aimost as many priests stressed that people can retire from administration and not be retired from the priesthood. As one man
stated, "Too many priests feel a pastorate is the priesthood." Some
suggested that the pastorate should be very temporary with a limited ten year office, given to men \vho were more in their prime of
life, from ages of 35-50. I think this concept is worthy of consideration.
Sixty-two of the respondees mentioned something concerning
finances, usually expressing the fear of not having enough money to
retire comfortably. Perhaps the most striking example of this was
written by a man who stated: "\Ve have a few cases of priests in
nursing homes whose relatives have had to pay the bills even to the
point of draining their life savings-! have no close relatives."
Several of the men mentioned that they either enjoyed retirement
now or looked upon retirerrient as something which they joyfully
anticipated. Forty-four priests mentioned housing, spelling out in
more detail some of their responses made in the questionnaire.
It might come as a surprise that sixteen of the diocesan clergy
specifically linked celibacy and retirement. "Guess I'm a young
radical, but I feel the problems of most old Priests I know result
from celibacy and feel the real 'Catholic Charity' would be to remove the cause (celibacy) rather than try to deal with the effect."
(It would seem to me that non-celibates share with celibates many
aspects of the adjustment to retirement.) As someone else stated it:
"If we are sincere about doing what we can to provide for priest's
love and concern, so that they may more fully love and be loved
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even in old age, we will all opt for the possibility of married clergy!"
One other person, forty-three years old, suggested that the celibacy
be optional after retirement-a person who reaches retirement age
might scout around for a widow or another eligible young lady.
Most who mentioned celibacy seemed to feel that change in the
celibacy rule was a very important aspect is planning for the future
retirement of priests.
Suggestions
Finally, I would like to list very briefly some of the other suggestions which seem to merit our attention and possibly our discussion ...
Consider a retirement program like the military-twenty or thirty
years of service to a diocese and then the freedom to move to
another diocese.
Consider a visitation by someone in administration concerning
retirement while the priests are still active.
Keep active in civic, cultural, and educational affairs.
There should be some kind of program instituted, including
people who are qualified and understand older people.
Some of the older priests could be working on either domestic or
foreign missions.
This questionnaire should be distributed periodically to see
whether one's views have changed or modified with increasing age;
Do not fail to consider the person when retiring, e.g. retirement
should be suggested in a personal conference rather than a form
letter.
The chancery office or bishop should send a birthday card each
year to the retired person so that he is not forgotten.
If a pastor is retired, keep his name on the parish bulletin as
"pastor emeritus" during his life time.
A chaplaincy at a cemetery taking care of all interments with a
liturgy might be one way of serving the Church.
Prepare for the possibility of sending some of our long term
patients into State Hospitals.
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Think of retiring completely from the priesthood into some other
type of work.
Elements of change
Any period of adjustment in our lifetime induces some anxiety;
man naturally fears what is unknown, different, and strange. \Vhen
he finds himself facing such a change, he looks for stability and
security, whether priest or layman, young or old. \Vhat are some of
the elements of change involved in retirement? A person has a reduction or complete cessation of what has been for years his "fulltime" activity. The priest shares this with the layman though the
possibility of continuing active involvement at a reduced pace is
much more possible for the priest than it is for most laymen-if we
refer. to pastoral activity and not administrative work. The priest
shares with the layman a decrease in income; what worries many
diocesan priests is that he may have to come as a beggar to negotiate a minimal income from a reluctant diocese. The priest shares
with the layman the loss of prestige which comes when he gives up
the reins of office; this can be traumatic when the loss occurs simultaneously with both the reduction of activity and income.
The more unique retirement adjustments of the priest include the
possibility of moving his residence, separating himself from many
of his most recent and long-time friends. Usually the layman continues to live in his home or his apartment immediately after retirement. In this questionnaire the priest who approaches retirement
age, understandingly, tends tQ want to remain where he is. Usually
the layman has a wife and fi·equently a family living near to help
him in this difficult period of adjustment; the priest has to rely on
his friends, cleric and otherwise, as \vell as brothers and sisters who
themselves may be incapacitated. Finally, the pastor who is about
to retire is leaving a society, the parish, where he has been "king."
\Vith all the other aspects of retirement facing him, he suddenly
realizes that he is no longer in control either of his "life," his household, or the parish community that he has ruled for so long.
On the other hand, the priest has some advantages which should
ease his adjustment to retirement. He has no financial worry about
providing for the extended life of his spouse. His spiritual outlook
.'on life and habits of prayer should perhaps be more developed than
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the average layman. This outlook would also carry over to a more
hopeful and positive attitude toward death. Finally, he has spent
much of his adult, priestly life visiting the sick and standing at the
bedside of death; he has had constant reminders that some day he
would be the one receiving viaticum.
Summing up, I would recommend the following points as important after the experience of working on this survey. First of all,
many priests do look upon retirement from administration or the
priesthood with a great deal of fear. The thinking and structures in
this area of Church life are far outdated; new ideas must be incorporated both for the sake of the individual priest and the functioning of the Church. A change of attitude and policy will demand an
educational process which must reach all Catholics, especially the
clergy itself including the hierarchy.
A definite retirement policy, stated clearly and followed, is a
desideratum which should be high on priority lists in the dioceses
across the country. This would especially include a policy of financial programs as well as retirement from positions of authoritywhich should be demanded and accepted with rare exceptions.
Several options should be open to the retired priest concerning
place of retirement and how he will live once he has selected a
residence.
Opportunities for reduced involvement in the active ministry and
contact with other retired priests is desirable. A diocesan register
and/ or a national clearinghouse could help facilitate this aspect
of the program. Finally, every large diocese and each province of a
religious order of any size should designate someone (full time
possibly) as the Coordinator for Retired Priests. One of his functions would be to interview each priest annually at least five years
before he reaches the age of retirement to discuss plans and possibilities with him. He would also serve to coordinate and implement
the other suggestions mentioned above-and to be alert for new
ways of serving the needs of the retired priests.
Worry about eternity
One could expect multiple opinions on almost any subject when
asking a large group of people. vVe have seen many opinions expressed by 50% of the people who receive this questionnaire. I feel
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that it definitely shows a great deal of concern and anxiety over the
fact that so little has been done for the retirement of priests. "At the
age of 30, the disillusionment and bitterness I see in older Priests,
their loneliness and sternness, makes me frightened of this whole
life." Let us hope that an institute such as this one can help us find
a way to create a situation which will allow a person to write: "I
am retired at 63 because of a stroke. My Bishop, my pastor, and
the Priests of the Retirement Board have treated me superbly."
Another wrote: "Let's worry about eternity." I for one feel that concern and intelligent planning for my brother priests, and for myself,
as we continue to age is one of the best ways for me personally to
"worry about eternity."
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�REPORT OF THE COMMISSION ON
GERONTOLOGY AND NEW MINISTRIES:
NEW ENGLAND PROVINCE
AT THE TIME of its establishment, the New England Province was
indeed "young." It had a total of 492 members; and only 152 of
these were priests.
By 1947 the membership of the Province had grown to 884. This
membership included 572 priests, of whom 31, or 5.42%, were
sixty-five years or older. There were also 258 scholastics, and so the
ratio was one scholastic to 2.22 priests.
The 1967 catalogue lists 1,112 members assigned ( adscripti) to
the Province. The number of priests is 799, of whom 126, or 15.77%,
will be sixty-five or more by June of 1967. The number of scholastics is listed as 249, and so the ratio is one scholastic to 3.21
priests.
It has been estimated that by 1987 there will be a total of 876
priests and brothers in the Province. Of these 576 will be between
the ages of 36 and 65 inclusive, while 300 will be over 65.
The growing numbers of older members, both in absolute and in
relative terms, is, therefore, a fact that merits our interest and consideration. At the same time we must recognize that the promise of
a longer life span and the challenge of retirement and leisure time
confront all kinds of people in all walks of life. This is by no means
peculiar to the academic profession or the clerical state.
The Commission is agreed that the elderly members of our
Province are deserving the most sympathetic consideration and it
is with this attitude-an attitude reinforced by the comments of
Fr. Provincial-that the Commission approaches its work.
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The Commission can make no pretense at this time of having
covered all the aspects of gerontology. In its consideration so far
the Commission has been concerned mainly, though not exclusively,
with the problems of those engaged in academic work. Policies are
developing, at least in some of our institutions of higher learning,
which seem to indicate that formal retirement will be required at
the age of sixty-five. At that age most men still look forward to a
number of vigorous years. The question arises: how will these years
be spent? Surely the Society should do its utmost to make these
years pleasant to the retired person and beneficial to him, to the
Church and to the Society.
As of the present, there is no retirement policy among all the
educational institutions within the Province, nor even among our
instit'4iions of higher learning. The Commission recommends a
Province-wide policy of retirement at the age of 65 from regular
teaching and administrative assignments in our educational institutions. This does not mean to exclude the possibility of a special
appointment, such as that of professor emeritus.
The Commission makes no recommendation at present regarding
a policy of retirement from other works of the Society.
It is the wish of the Commission to stress the fact that the status
of the elderly and/ or retired is an honorable one. The Commission
~also accepts the fact that many will continue to exercise the priestly
and religious ministries, so long as their health and strength allow.
With particular reference to those who face retirement from
regular teaching and administrative work, we may point out that
retirement marks the completio~::-not merely the end-of a career.
It is the recognition that, through years of prolonged service, one
has redeemed the pledge to his profession. It is a kind of crown for
finishing the course. Retirement can open up a wide range of choice
from among a number of reasonable, appropriate and inviting activities. There is no suggestion that the retired person should be
forced into an assignment that does not appeal to him. On the contrary, as will appear below, every effort should be made to render
the retirement years as rich and satisfying as possible.
Residence: where shall he live?
Several questions may cause some concern to persons faced with
rf)tirement. There is first of all the question, "Where shall I live?"
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or "Where shall I be sent?" In answer to this question, three options
appear possible. A person may remain in the house where he has
spent his recent years or he may remove to some other house of his
own preference, or he may take up residence in one of the two or
three centrally located residences that hopefully will be established
for the social apostolate. Fr. Provincial has indicated his decision
that, insofar as possible, the wish of the individual person will be
respected in this matter. The Commission is happy to voice its
strong approval of this decision.
Activities: what shall he do?
A second relevant question is this, "In what activities might the
(formally) retired person be expected to engage?" Again, in arriving at an answer to this question, the wishes of the individual person are to receive fullest consideration. It must be recognized that
there will be the widest variety of wishes, attitudes and potentials
among the persons involved. No doubt many will be able to develop
extremely interesting and even ambitious programs that reflect their
own talents and propensities.
Some may wish to engage in new apostolates. Our Commission
has given considerable attention to what some of these new apostolates may be. The potential list seems impressively long. vVe have
appended a suggested-but by no means complete or exclusivelist of such ministries to this report. However, we have not yet tried
to appraise these ministries in terms of their relative fruitfulness
and appropriateness. It is again our thinking, with which Fr. Provincial has indicated his agreement, that no one should be urged
to undertake such a ministry contrary to his own desire.
Others may prefer to devote their time to other useful employments, which are not normally classified as new ministries. For
example, our retired men would still retain their scholarly interests.
Now they would have the opportunity to read the books they never
found time for before and to re-read the works they particularly
cherished. This continued interest of a scholar-priest is a fulfilling
and perfecting of his career and his vocation. Certainly, our retired
persons should be able so far as possible to continue their professional interests. This might include attendance at the usual conventions, etc.
Still others may develop-or better, continue developing-stimu301
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lating hobbies, possibly some of the more intriguing manual arts
and crafts, by which one really makes something. These hobbies
could be of the widest variety.
Insofar as reasonably possible, the wishes of the individual should
determine the range and scope of his retirement activities.
Coordination at the provincial level
\Vhat can be done to help our men in planning for retirement
and in implementing their retirement programs? Perhaps the single
most important recommendation of our Commission is that a new
office should be established at the provincial level to deal with the
problems of the elderly, to assist persons in preparing for retirement
and _to develop for these persons suitable new ministries and other
me~rtingful programs that will have relevance and appeal.
A ··suggested title for the person who would hold this office is
Coordinator of Apostolates. This Coordinator would be expected to
work closely with Fr. Provincial. He would have major responsibility for helping those who are elderly or retired. His services
would also be available in a special way to those in the age bracket
from sixty on, to whom the question of retirement might be a matter
of somewhat proximate interest.
While the qualifications of the Coordinator of Apostolates cannot
at this time be specified in detail, it is suggested that he should be
a middle-aged person of experience, understanding and sensitivity,
who is also capable of working effectively.
It is suggested that the Coordinator have an Advisory Board
consisting of an individual representative from each community.
The members of this Adviso"fy Board might be older persons, who
appreciate the problems of the elderly.
It is also recommended that superiors be urged to work with
those members of the community, who are either developing retirement plans or who are already formally retired and wish some helpful guidance in achieving a more satisfying utilization of their time.
In addition to his concern for the elderly and for those who are
proximately preparing for retirement, the Coordinator of Apostolates should also develop programs for those who must face retirement as a more remote eventuality. Specifically, he should develop
, programs for those in the age group from 45 on. These programs
• would fall in the broad category of continuing education and would
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have as their objective the constant updating of Jesuits in such
fields as liturgy, theology, education, etc. and the persistent refurbishing of their professional attitudes. But beyond this and, perhaps,
even more importantly, these programs should stimulate thinking
as to how one may continue his career in a constructive and satisfying way beyond the time of retirement.
While participation in these latter programs should be voluntary,
it is to be hoped that their content and purpose would attract the
participation of large numbers. It does not seem appropriate to try
to spell out the details of such programs in this report. However,
one suggestion has been made that, at least occasionally, institutes
conducted as a part of this program might substitute for the annual
retreat.
Infirmary facilities
A special question arises at this time regarding those elderly persons who need some type of medical attention short of hospitalization. Some such facilities do now exist in the Province, especially
at Shadowbrook and Holy Cross and, to an extent, at ·weston. The
Commission is not at present disposed to recommend a province
infirmary. It does seem, however, that additional facilities should
be developed, especially in some of our larger houses.
Potential new ministries
1) Retreat Work
Retreats
Day of Recollection
Evening Retreats
2) Educational Work
In other Jesuit Schools
In other Catholic Schools
In other private schools
In public schools
Consulting in one's own specialty
3) Tutorial Work
Tutoring of Students at Tutorial Centers,
College, High School, or other
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CCD Programs
CCD Teachers
Big Brother Programs
4) Chaplaincies and Counseling
Alumni Groups
Professional Groups
Convents
\Vorker Groups
Newman Clubs
Hospitals
Convalescent Homes
~Homes of the Aged
~ ..Detention Homes
Prisons
Half-way Houses
5) Pastoral Work
Parish \Vork
Confessions-for both priests and laity in all our houses
and parishes
Instruction of Converts
6) Inner City Missionary Activity (ABCD Programs)
7) Work with Alcoholics
8) "Rescue" Programs
~-
9) Continuation of Scholarly. Activities
Writing books
Writing articles (spiritual or otherwise)
for magazines and (diocesan) newspapers
Popularizing one's particular field of specialization
either in writing or in talks
Sharing with others the experience of personal integration of
faith and one's field (English, History, Physics, etc.)
10) Helping in "development drives" by contacting older alumni
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Random comments
Following are some random comments relative to potential new
ministries:
1) The one ministry within our bigger institutions for which retired Jesuits seem adapted is hearing confessions. Perhaps a
program of round-the-clock confessors for extems could be set
up, in which individual Fathers could hear for two or three
hours a day. Out of this confession program would very likely
come some counseling work. It does not seem practical to
appoint retired Jesuits to counseling; young people will not go
to them directly for this reason, but will do so indirectly,
through confession.
2) The apostolate of the confessional has been sadly neglected in
this province. Few of our houses have convenient confessional
boxes and a bell system that would bring a priest to the confessional whenever a person, priest or layman comes. Likewise,
we are not doing the consulting and counseling of which many
of our men are capable.
3) We need some set-up at B. C. where the priests can reach the
students and vice-versa. Holy Cross is the same. Is it a question
of motivating the older priests to be willing to deal with the
students? Let's study why they don't go near them. Is it that
we have no structure whereby priests would and could be
available to them?
4) Many of our older priests could instruct in CCD programs,
teaching the teachers-laymen and women who will be dealing
with hundreds of children. What better motivation for getting
some knowledge of new theology?
5) Re new ministries for retired Jesuits; besides exploring with
diocesan authorities the care of the elderly in rest homes and
projects for senior citizens, we might explore the possibilities
of assisting in Newman Club work on secular campuses, of
adult education in parishes, and of more retreat centers, like
St. Joseph's, in other cities.
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6) Some of our older priests could be used in the works of other
groups: Newman apostolate, the retreat houses run by other
groups who need priests desperately, e.g., Espousal Retreat
House in Waltham.
7) Less than a hundred miles from here in New Hampshire and
Vermont, in northern Connecticut, there is a real need for
priests in parish work and other ministries. Shadowbrook could
be a center from which priests worked in Vermont, New
Hampshire, Connecticut. The University of Massachusetts
could use five more priests to be available for the students
for confession and consultation.
8) It is recommended that Jesuits who are retired from the classroom should do priestly work in the country parishes of
Jamaica, \Vest Indies. This work would consist for the most
part in saying the parish Mass, and being present in the rectory.
9) It is recommended that Jesuits retired from the classroom
should staff a half-way house for men just out of prison who
are seeking a base from which to rebuild their lives.
10) It is recommended that Jesuits retired from the classroom
should become directors of audio-visual departments in our
high schools. Such a position would involve little actual work,
and the need for such a person is daily increasing. Most of our
schools feel that they cannot afford to hire a full-time man for
this work.
-·
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�REPORT ON MID-CAREER PLANNING
OCI'OBER
28
-NOVEMBER
1, 1968
SPONSORED BY
SCHOOL OF GENERAL STUDIES
FORDHAM UNIVERSITY
AT
CARDINAL SPELLMAN RETREAT HOUSE
RIVERDALE, NEW YORK
BACKGROUND
WITH FUNDS FROM TITLE 1 of the Higher Education Act of 1965 and
The Administration on Aging, the School of General Studies of
Fordham University has been conducting Pre-Retirement Leadership Training courses since September of 1966. These courses have
trained representatives of labor unions, business organizations, and
community groups to set up Pre-Retirement orientation programs
in their parent organizations.
In the Spring of 1968, some funds became available, and, since
there had been many inquiries about retirement problems from
religious orders, we decided to explore this area.
In June of 1968, a one day conference was held at Fordham on
the retirement problems of religious men and women. The conference concluded that there are two approaches to the problems involved in the retirement of religious. The first would concern itself
with the care and employment of the already retired. The second
would aim at the preparation of still active religious for retirement
by a judicious renewal and possibly by change of employment at
about age fifty.
One way of proceeding along the second path was thought to be
a Mid-Career Institute aimed at religious about age fifty, and it
Was agreed that a four and one-half day workshop should be organized to explore the content and format of such an institute.
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
Organization of the workshop
Location: Acting on these recommendations, we organized the
Workshop for the week of October 28th- November 1st at the
Passionist Retreat House in Riverdale, which proved admirably
suited to the purpose, offering comfortable rooms, good meals, excellent conference facilities, gracious hospitality and a superb view
of the Hudson River and Palisades further enhanced by the rich
fall colors.
Participation: The invitation list was made up from recommendations of the June conference participants, many of whom elected
to attend themselves. Major orders of sisters, brothers and priests
were invited to send representatives, and some were invited who
asked to attend after learning that the conference was in the works.
The participant roster indicated a diversity of background and occupation as well as a common concern with the problems of the
older religious.
Guiding principles: In planning the conference we had some
guiding principles:
1) We wanted everyone present to work on the problems and
we wanted to take advantage of all the expertise and experience in the group.
2) We wanted to show how the resources available in any
locality can be utilized in a Mid-Career Institute.
3) vVe wanted to show that the liturgy and films can be used
effectively to further the purposes of a ~lid-Career Institute.
Content: The actual co~tent of the workshop following the consensus of the June meeting was arranged under the following five
headings:
1) Psychological Background.
2) Employment Opportunities and Training.
3) Changing Nature of Religious Life.
4) Organization of Province Programs.
5) Contemporary Spirituality.
Task forces: Task forces of the participants were assigned to each
of the first four areas. It was felt that the area of contemporary
spirituality would best be treated by invited experts on specific
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topics. We were fortunate to get the following people to speak on
key topics in this field.
Dr. Ewart Cousins
Bro. Robert Sullivan, C.F.X.
Father Ladislaus Orsy, S.J.
Father John Gallen, S.J.
Contemporary Ideas of God
Religious Dedication
Law and Conscience
The Liturgy
In the areas of psychological background, province programs,
and "changing nature of the religious life," we felt that there was a
fair amount of experience and expertise in the group and little
available outside resource that would be of much additional help.
However, because of his recent well-publicized involvement in this
area, Fr. Felix Cardegna, S.J., was invited to participate in the
sessions on "the changing nature of religious life."
Resource people: The area of employment opportunities, on the
other hand, was one where little was known by anyone in the group.
We accordingly circulated a questionnaire among a sample of public
and private education and senior service agencies in our area to
investigate opportunities for the employment of religious in these
agencies. We also arranged a panel of experts consisting of the
following people:
Miss Kathleen Dolson
Monsignor Robert Fox
Mrs. Patricia Roy
Mrs. Daisy Hicks
N. Y. State Employment Service
Coordinator Spanish
Community Action Program
Archdiocese of New York
Bearings for Re-Establishments
N.Y.C. Board of Education
Parallel activities: liturgy and films:
To capitalize on the demonstration value of activities other than
the formal lecture discussion sessions, we arranged a series of liturgies with gradually increasing involvement of the whole group.
Concelebration was introduced the first evening, dialogue homilies
the second. We had a multimedia liturgy with films and records,
and, on the final evening, a teaching liturgy on chastity conducted
by Fr. George Glanzman, S.J., with special readings and a dialogue
exposition of the texts.
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Along the same lines we arranged for the screening of two films
followed by discussion under the leadership of Fr. Anthony Schillaci, 0. P., who also arranged the multimedia liturgy. We had originally hoped to have "8-lh" and "The Pumpkin Eater" but when
these proved to be unavailable we obtained "Wild Strawberries"
and "The Given Word."
\Vork assignments: A month before the workshop, we wrote to
all participants giving them the program and their task force assignments. \Ve asked the coordinators to get in touch with the members
of their task force giving them more specific instructions. Most of
the first day of the institute was devoted to working sessions of the
taskforces. During these sessions each task force prepared the present;ltion on their assigned area. The task force device proved very
valuable in bringing everybody immediately into close contact with
part of the group and in focusing their efforts on a specific area.
The first presentation, that of the task force on psychological background, was of such high calibre that the others scurried to keep
up and all presentations were of very high quality.
The task force presentations were followed by a general discussion and by separate "gleaning" sessions designed to pull together the material useful for determining the content and format
of the projected Mid-Career Institutes.
The workshop itself
The workshop went off almost exactly as scheduled. The only
difficulty that arose was in cu_tting off discussion after the afternoon
talks on contemporary spiribJality. The liturgy was usually late in
starting with a consequent and lamentable shortening of the cocktail hour. A longer buffer period before the liturgy would have
been desirable.
Overall impact: Partly due to planning, and partly due to luck in
getting excellent resource people who reinforced each other in unforeseen ways, the overall impact of the workshop on the participants was remarkable. The group which had gathered for a worka-day task of discussing the problems of mid-career in an impersonal
and detached fashion, found itself personally involved with chal.' lenging ideas and perspectives in a way they had not anticipated.
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This was so marked in some instances that we were accused of
summoning the group together as "guinea pigs" for a demonstration
Mid-Career Institute under the transp~rent ruse of asking them to
help in a workshop. We plead "not guilty," but would not overly
complain at being found guilty.
Key themes: The two themes which ran through the whole workshop seemed to this observer to be the following:
1) Finding God in the world around us. Introduced by Professor Cousins in his talk, "Modem Ideas of God." This theme
was reinforced by the new experience of the multimedia
Liturgy and by Fr. Gallen's talk. It was expressed in a
prophetic and inspired way by Msgr. Fox in his remarks
on the inner-city apostolate, and the films and film discussions further reinforced it.
2) The inadequacy of prefabricated value systems and structures imposed from without and the need for the individual
religious to develop a living value system of his own as the
driving force in a personally responsible apostolate. First
hinted at in the role playing sessions of the task force on
psychological backgrounds, this theme was clearly stated in
Bro. Sullivan's talk on religious dedication and was never
far from the center of subsequent discussion.
Much of the sessions on "the changing nature of religious life"
touched this theme as did Fr. Orsy's talk on freedom and conscience.
It played in and out of the dialogue homilies and the chastity liturgy
and was recognizable even in the film discussions.
Area discussion and consensus
I) PSYCHOLOGICAL BACKGROUND
The lively sessions conducted by this task force yielded far more
in the way of hints, cautions, and insights than can be recorded in
the brief compass of this report. The major recommendations for
Mid-Career Institutes will be listed under the rubrics of content,
fonnat, and recruiting.
Content:
a) Some orientation, preferably by a doctor and a psychiatrist
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on the physical and emotional problems of the middle years
and the climacteric is a must.
b) While deep sensitivity sessions would be dangerous, discussions lightly penetrating the surface level of personal
relations are very desirable.
c) A vocational counselling component with the opportunity
for vocational testing where indicated is necessary.
Format:
1) Straight lectures should be minimized. Discussion, role
playing, project reports and other techniques should be
used innovatively.
Six weeks is the minimum time in which a real change in
attitude can be reasonably expected. A preparatory session
might help to bring goals into focus before the main
sessions.
3) Flexibility and openness to new program directions is necessary if the institute is to respond to the actual needs of the
participants.
4) For effectiveness and involvement of all, discussion groups
should not be much larger than ten.
5) Giving participants responsibility for part of the program
is a good device for insuring their involvement.
Recruiting participants:
1) Certain types are ~";g. risks and should be discouraged from
participation.
2) Some (probably the minority) have little need of such a
program.
3) In general, assignment by superiors to the institute will
create loss of self confidence with consequent suspicion and
lack of cooperation. The best policy would seem to be voluntary attendance, or attendance at the suggestion of the
possibility by superiors in cases where changes of occupation and sabbatical leaves are under consideration.
4) Care should be taken not to mention possible use of tests
in descriptions of the program. This arouses apprehension.
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II) EMPLOYMENT OPPORTUNITIES AND TRAINING
More important than the specific opportunities mentioned by the
various resource persons during the sessions and uncovered by our
questionnaire are the two facts that became completely evident in
the course of the discussion.
1) There are opportunities without limit of number or type.
2) There are agencies available in all localities who know
about these openings and can put us in touch with them.
An added bit of valuable information that emerged in this area
was the fact that the U. S. Employment Service will provide vocational counselling and testing free of charge. This may be a great
help where one wishes to set up a Mid-Career Institute on a shoe
string.
Special difficulties: There are two special difficulties connected
with career changes by religious which fall in this area and must be
faced since they may well make the whole idea of such programs
unthinkable.
1) Stripping staff from present institutions: Any wide spread
change of careers by religious will further "exacerbate" the already
grave staffing problems of Catholic schools and hospitals. The program would further reduce the religious to layman ratio which is
the root cause of the present financial crisis. Our own questionnaire
on placement opportunities in education and social services brought
an unpleasant reaction along these lines from the New York
Chancery office.
There is no complete answer to this objection but lines of resolution may emerge from the following considerations:
a) Many of the people involved have ceased to be effective in
their present jobs and do not add to the quality of their
present institutions.
b) The unhappiness of many of these people may be too high
a price to pay to preserve for a few more years institutions
that will not survive because of dwindling vocations and an
anti-institutional bias common among the younger religious.
2) Strictly secular occupations: The possibility of strictly secular
occupations for religious came up so often in the discussions as to
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be almost taken for granted. People less enraptured by the themes
of the workshop and more firmly rooted in traditional institutional
forms of religious life may bridle a bit at this concept and it must
be examined more carefully.
The recent permission granted to the French clergy to take parttime jobs-the request for this was apparently motivated by the
desire of the priests to be more involved in the lives of their flocks
-and the financially precarious situation of many congregations as
the result of the decline of ministries that formerly were strong
sources of revenue, may well create a more open minded situation
in this area. The distinction between purely secular occupations
such as buying and selling and secular occupations in the education-welfare field may hold up, but it seems to be already quite
blurreu·by the rise of the mystique of involvement.
III) CHANGING NATURE OF RELIGIOUS LIFE
The main ideas in this are emerged clearly in Bro. Sullivan's
talk on the modern idea of religious dedication. These are the
following:
1) Religious formation can no longer be conceived as the imposition of a pre-packaged value system on a willing but
passive novice, but as a process whereby the young religous
is led to the formation of a personal value system by systematic exposure to various options within the framework
of the traditions of the order and tl1e development of the
Christian vision of realirj.-2) Given the historical situation, the forms of the apostolate
have been determined by the commitments of the orders
to their institutions. People have had to subordinate their
personal interests to the demands of the hospitals, parishes,
high schools, retreat houses and the like. While admitting
the value of the work done in these contexts, the value of a
more unstructured approach, emphasizing full utilization of
individual talents is in the air. Concomitant with this is a
heightened responsibility on the part of the individual religious for the determination of his role and his preparation
for it.
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The presentation of the task force in this area was quite innovative. They used the song, "Mrs. Robinson," as a keynote and used
role playing to focus in on the central question, "How is the religious
better than the secular humanist?" This question was never answered in explicity in the workshop, presumably because there are
as many answers as there are religious.
The discussion by Fr. Cardegna of his now famous address to the
conference of major religious superiors emphasized the fact that
the main ideas listed at the head of this section are indeed having
their impact on the thinking and planning of the congregations.
Changes are being tried at all levels. The only thing not yet clear is
which of the new forms will perdure.
Some discussion of the possibility of the survival of the present
orders in the face of the new emphasis on personal values and
individual apostolates failed to resolve the issue. Some felt that the
loose structure of a common set of ideals and traditions provided
by the orders would be valuable. Others saw small communities
emerging which would be pretty much cut off from the old orders.
One problem of the Mid-Career Institute is to introduce the older
religious to the new ideas. In this way there can be some bridging
of the generation gap with a consequent lessening of hostility and
enhancement of the unity of the congregation.
A fairly wide-spread attitude among older religious, admits the
validity of the new concepts for the younger people, but holds that
since they themselves have done well with the old system, they
should stay with it. Such an attitude, while admirable in many
ways, does cut the religious off from full relevance to the modem
world, and is a barrier to the flexible change of career envisagement
as a possible consequence of the institute.
There is a valid objection-that in attacking the old structure,
you are playing a dangerous game and may well leave the religious
with nothing to cling to. The answer to this is not clear. Obviously
it holds in many cases. One approach would be to restrict participation to religious who request it on the supposition that they feel the
need for a new value system anyhow. Another is to emphasize the
fact that renewal of old dedication is as necessary as the development of new perspectives.
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
IV)
ORGANIZATION OF PROVINCE PROGRAMS
Since most province activity to date has concerned the problems
of the actually retired and those about to retire, the discussion of
this topic shifted the spotlight to an older age group than the MidCareer group which was the principal target of the workshop. That
this would happen was evident beforehand, but it seemed worthwhile to go along with it since many of those present had a particular interest in the older group. Then too, the only institute that is
at all a model for the Mid-Career Institute we envisage is the
LaFarge Institute conducted by the Sisters of St. Joseph for several
of their provinces in the mid-west.
vVe· were fortunate in having Sr. Pauline, who is the Director
of the LaFarge Institute, with us. The LaFarge Institute, which
was set up in record time, provides sisters who are about to retire,
are semi-retired or actually retired with full time summer programs
and one-day-a-week programs during the school year. The programs include instruction in such skills as, librarianship, typing,
lettering and school records. There is a cultural component with
such courses as "Behind the Headlines," "Art Appreciation," and
"The Modern Novel." There is a theological and spiritual campo- nent featuring up-to-date information in these areas; and finally,
there is a placement service to find part-time employment for the
retired and semi-retired.
Viewed at first with some suspicion, the Institute is already accepted enthusiastically by tht sisters and thought is being given to
extending it to non-religious through federal financing. Because of
the large backlog of retired sisters, most attention has been given
to this group, but plans call for it to reach the pre-retirement group
in the near future.
The success of the LaFarge Institute is a source of encouragement to us since it shows that many of the things we want to do at
Mid-Career can in fact be done with the older group. The fact that
the components of the LaFarge program run parallel to the MidCareer Institute as we envisage it would seem to indicate the essential soundness of our planning.
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Future plans
As the workshop drew to an end, discussion was focused on several questions bearing on the direction in which we might move in
the future. The following questions were discussed:
1) Are the problems of religious at mid-career unique enough to
justify the organization of institutes specifically for them?
This question is obviously central and demands an affirmative
answer if anything further is to be done along the lines of the
present workshop.
The members of the workshop were far from unanimous in their
response to this question. A good many felt that the problems would
be encountered by different people at different times of life, and
that they should be able to take the workshop when it best fitted
their needs. Others felt that the problems at age 48-52 were special,
involving physical as well as emotional factors and that the institute
should be aimed at this target. After much discussion a consensus
was reached on the principle that the institute should be so designed as to appeal to anyone contemplating a change of career and
that it should be open, in principle, only to such people.
2) Should the next step be a training program for leaders or a
pilot institute for mid-career people?
Quite a few people thought that the experience of the LaFarge
Institute had established the desirability of such institutes and the
quickest way to help the large number of people would be for
Fordham or some other agency to conduct a program in the summer
of 1969, in which leaders would be prepared to set up mid-career
institutes in many congregations. A less sanguine viewpoint expressed by many held that the effectiveness of such institutes in
changing deep-seated attitudes at mid life had still not been proven
and that it would be very desirable to run a pilot program testing
out the ideas and organization so that we might proceed with
greater confidence to the training of leaders. After much spirited
discussion this latter view prevailed.
3) How does the proposed institute differ from the renewal institutes that are being organized around the country in great
numbers?
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
This serious objection was made by Fr. Cardegna, and, in the
ensuing discussion, it became clear that the proposed Mid-Career
Institute had several distinctive components:
a) Most people involved would be considering a possibility of
a change of careers.
b) We would hope to provide some actual work experience at
a part-time job as a component of the institute program.
c) Opportunities for vocational counselling and testing would
be available.
d) It would enroll a mixed group of brothers, sisters and
priests.
4): Should such an institute be tried?
The answer was a unanimous yes on the part of all participants.
-
5) Wlzo should run it?
There was a noticeable lack of volunteers to try running such an
institute. Most people felt that Fordham, with its experience in the
pre-retirement leadership training program, and its access to facilities and resource people, would be the logical institution to run
such an institute.
Fordham agreed to undertake a preliminary canvass of major
religious superiors to ascertain if they would support such a program by sending participants and paying their expenses. If the
response is encouraging enough, we would be willing to organize
such an institute for the sumf11er of 1969, probably on a residential
basis at one of the women's colleges in the area."
" The above report was circulated among the participants in the workshop
with a request for their reactions and criticisms. \Ve have had very little reaction from them, and we now propose to circulate it among the provincials of
the various orders to see if they would be any more vocal in reacting to it.
.'Their reactions will, to a large extent, determine where we go from here.
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�THE DOUBLE "PRINCIPLE AND
FOUNDATION" IN THE
SPIRITUAL EXERCISES
Ignatius through Kant
JosEPH
A.
BRACKEN,
S.J.
THE KINGDOM MEDITATION in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius
is generally regarded as a second "Principle and Foundation" for
the exercises of the second, third and fourth Weeks. 1 Even the external structure of the Exercises suggests that St. Ignatius planned
the Kingdom meditation at least as a general introduction to the
meditations of the Second Week on the life of Christ. Yet this consideration leaves unanswered the question how the Exercises can
have therefore a double "Principle and Foundation." Furthermore,
the striking difference in tone and style between the Kingdom
mediation and the original Principle and Foundation raises the
speculative problem, what function a "Principle and Foundation"
should play within the Exercises as a whole. Is it for example
sufficient to regard the Principle and Foundation and/or the Kingdom mediation as a general introduction or "scene-setter" for the
meditations which follows? Or is a "Principle and Foundation" in
some sense the ontological source or cause of that which follows?
1
See Hugo Rahner, "The Christology of the Spiritual Exercises," Ignatius
the Theologian, tr. Michael Barry (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968),
p. 106. Hereafter referred to as "Rahner."
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The following reflections presuppose that the term "Principle and
Foundation" in the Spiritual Exercises can be interpreted "ontologically," even if not strictly in terms of the four Aristotelian causes.
Rather, we would suggest that a "Principle and Foundation" in the
context of the Exercises implies something more closely resembling
a Kantian Leitidee or directive idea for human understanding in
the systematic interpretation of experience.2 Accordingly, we would
suppose that both the Principle and Foundation and the Kingdom
mediation are distinct directive ideas for the moral universe of the
exercitant; this is, they structure and order the moral activity of the
exercitant along well-defined lines which are sufficiently distinct so
as to constitute separate "worlds" of thought and feeling. Both
"worlds" are of course united in the mind of the exercitant and to
som~ extent are mutually complementary in their effect on the
mo'i-al activity of the exercitant; yet each appeals to a different
aspect of the total personality.
The thought-world of the (first) Principle and Foundation is for
example centered around the rational service of God, as implied in
the first sentence of the same meditation: "Man is created to praise,
reverence, and serve God our Lord, and by this means to save his
soul."3 The dominant motive for practical activity thus offered to
the exercitant is that of legitimate self-interest. That is, he is urged
to render to God and his neighbor a reasonable service in this life
2 \Ve deliberately prescind in this article from all questions which touch on
the historical genesis of the Spiritual Exercises, in particular from the question
whether the Principle and Foundation was a later addition or whether it was
present from the beginning although in a condensed form, namely as one of
the "Annotations" or "lntroduc~ry Observations" to the Spiritual Exercises.
This is a matter of scholarly debate. Cf. Joseph de Guibert, S.J., The Jesuits:
Their Spiritual Doctrine and Practice, tr. William J. Young, S.J. (Chicago:
Loyola Press, 1964), pp. 119-21. At the same time, nearly all the experts are
agreed that the spirit of the Principle and Foundation is carried forward into
the First \Veek of the Spiritual Exercises, if not even further. (e.g., the meditation on the Three Kinds of Humility, etc.). Hence the question can still be
raised whether the Spiritual Exercises as a whole have a double "Principle and
Foundation." For the interpretation which Fr. William Peters, S.J., attaches
to the Principle and Foundation and to the Spiritual Exercises as a whole, cf.
nn. 22, 26, 38, 42, 51, 69 and the "Postscript" at the end of the article.
3 The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, tr. Louis J. Puhl, S.J. (Westminster,
Md.: Newman Press, 1951), # 23. Henceforth to be cited as SpEx with the
corresponding paragraph number.
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in order to gain an eternity of happiness and, by implication, to
avoid the opposite fate, namely an eternity of pain and unhappiness
as a consequence of irrational behavior at the present. Legitimate
self-interest as a practical motive for the service of God involves
therefore a salutary fear of God's punishments as well as a strong
desire for personal union with God as a reward for faithful service.
The thought-world of the Kingdom meditation as the second
"Principle and Foundation" is on the other hand of a different stamp
altogether. The meditation is dominated by the image of Christ as
the Eternal King and presents to the exercitant a new ideal of conduct, namely that of personal service, even to the point of moral
heroism, self-forgetfulness, etc. The theme of personal salvation is
not completely forgotten; it is however absorbed into the emotionally more compelling perspective of the Kingdom as a concrete
historical reality in process of development. The practical motive
for the exercitant is then no longer that of self-interest as such, but
rather that of enthusiastic dedication to an ideal greater than oneself. The image of Christ first in suffering and then in glory is the
rallying-point in the consciousness of the exercitant for the higher
emotions of personal love, instinctive generosity, etc. St. Paul perhaps captures the spirit of this ideal with his celebrated remark:
"If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord;
so then, whether we live or whether we die, we belong to the Lord."
(Rom 14: 7-8). As mentioned above, the point of unity for the two
thought-worlds is the moral consciousness of the individual exercitant. St. Ignatius seems moreover to expect the retreatant to move
readily and effortlessly from one thought-world to another; i.e., the
exercitant should keep the strongly imaginative ideal of the Kingdom and the personal service of Christ always to the fore, yet never
lose the more cautious, reflective spirit of the original Principle and
Foundation with its aim of a rational service of God as the neces-.
sary means to personal salvation.
Obviously, this interpretation represents a somewhat different
approach to the problem of a "Principle and Foundation" for the
Spiritual Exercises than that presented by the well-known German
scholar of Ignatiana, Fr. Hugo Rahner, S.J. (recently deceased), in
his article "Zur Christologie der Exerzitien des heiligen Ignatius."4
4
Cf. n. 1 above.
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Fr. Rahner seeks in this article to give the Exercises in their entirety a single unifying "Principle and Foundation," namely that of
the Kingdom meditation. The themes there presented of personal
love of Christ and of service in his Kingdom are (according to
Rahner) anticipated in the first Principle and Foundation and likewise in the exercises of the First Week. 5 Likewise the same themes
underlie the exercises of the Second ·week insofar as the latter prepare the exercitant psychologically for the election. 6 If therefore
the election is the natural climax of the Exercises, then the Kingdom
meditation is their "Principle and Foundation." Our own interpretation, briefly summarized above, concedes to Fr. Rahner that the
Kingdom meditation is indeed a "Principle and Foundation" for the
Exercises and above all for the election. Father Raimer has however
in our opinion unconsciously exaggerated the Christological influer'ices in the First \Veek of the Exercises in order to achieve his goal
of a single objective "Principle and Foundation" for the Exercises
as a whole. In addition to the one basic theme of self-sacrifice and
dedication to Christ, there is, as indicated above, a second underlying motif in the Exercises, that of legitimate self-interest in the
service of God. This theme or motif is most apparent in the Principle and Foundation and in the Exercises of the First ·week; but, as
we shall see later in detail, it also recurs consistently in the structural meditations of the Second Week and thus offers a psychological counter-point to the theme of personal service in the consciousness of the Exercitant, as he prepares for the election.
In the face of this difference of opinion over the meaning and
above all the function of th_e Principle and Foundation and of the
Kingdom meditation in tlie ·Exercises, we could attempt here a
point-by-point refutation of those aspects of Fr. Rahner's theory
which strike us as false or at least misleading. The result however
would be a wearisome polemic over the interpretation of details in
the Exercises, in which moreover the lifetime scholarship of Fr.
Rahner into Ignatiana would clearly be a decisive factor for the
reader. Rather, our intention here will be constructive, i.e., to set
up another theory for the interpretation of the Exercises, which in
our opinion does not strictly exclude that of Fr. Rahner but rather
5 Rahner, pp. 55-93.
s Rahner, pp. 93-130.
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introduces a new subjective dimension into the interpretation of the
Exercises which we feel is missing in his own more objective approach. The key concept here will be, as already indicated, a new
interpretation of the term "Principle and Foundation," insofar as
the latter is no longer regarded as the objective point of unity for a
given set of ideas but instead as the subjective motive in human
consciousness for practical action. Here we will draw to our aid a
new philosophical structure, which is derived in part from the Ideas
of Reason ( Vernunftideen) as developed by Immanuel Kant in his
Critical Philosophy. This in no way implies however that we plan
to give a strictly Kantian interpretation of the Exercises but simply
that we acknowledge our debt to Kant for the thought-structure
which we will in fact use to give a fresh interpretation of the
Exercises. 7
The validity of our hypothesis will not lie therefore in its fidelity
to the philosophy of Immanuel Kant as rather in its practical
applicability to the Exercises as a new and stimulating source of
interpretation.
Our plan for the rest of the article will therefore be as follows.
First, we will recall briefly Kant's doctrine of the Ideas of Reason
in the Critical Philosophy and add to it a few words of criticism,
so as to set forth by way of contrast our own understanding of the
term Idea. Then, with the help of this new philosophical structure,
we will present our hypothesis for the interpretation of the Spiritual Exercises, namely that the Exercises reflect two subjective
thought-worlds or "Principles and Foundations," and that these rival
thought-worlds or Ideas prepare the exercitant for the election in
two quite different ways. Finally, in the third part of the article,
we will draw some practical conclusions for the presentation of the
Exercises. This last point will give us occasion, once more to review
Fr. Rahner's interpretation of the Exercises and to suggest where it
requires revision and/ or amplification.
7 Gaston Fessard, S.J., provided, for example, some years ago a new interpretation of the Spiritual Exercises, based on the Hegelian dialectic, without
however claiming to make Ignatius a pre-Hegelian. Cf. Gaston Fessard, S.J.,
La Dialectique des Exercises Spirituels selon St. Ignace (Paris: Aubier, 1956).
The presumption in Fr. Fessard's interpretation as well as in our own is that
St. Ignatius may well have employed in ascetical practice philosophical structures which Hegel and/or Kant first raised to the level of conscious reflection.
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A) CRITIQUE OF THE KANTIAN IDEAS OF REASON
Immanuel Kant presented his theory for the Ideas of Reason
chiefly in the "Transcendental Dialectic" of his celebrated Critique
of Pure Reason. 8 Here he indicated a clear dependence upon Plato
for the doctrine of the Ideas but likewise a conscious independence
of the other in his interpretation of the function of "ideas" in human
knowledge. The dependence lay by Kant's own admission in their
common assumption that "ideas" were concepts to which no objects
of sensible experience immediately corresponded. 9 For example,
the Platonic "idea" of the ideal Republic is not intended to correspond to any real civil government but only to serve as a model or
directive idea for practical governmental reform. Similarly the
"id~as" of the moral virtues are not strictly empirical, i.e., drawn
from daily moral experience, as rather normative for experience,
how men should ideally behave. The independence of Kant from
Plato on the other hand consisted in his conscious restriction of the
Ideas to the three great philosophical unities (God, the world and
the soul) which ground the three traditional branches of metaphysica specialis (rational theology, cosmology and the philosophical doctrine of the soul) .1° Kant's intention here was strictly
polemical. He wished to prove that the traditional concepts of God,
the world and the soul were completely untrustworthy as guides to
their corresponding realities; that is, the concepts as such were able
to prove neither the real existence nor the metaphysical properties
of their corresponding objects in reality. 11 On the other hand, Kant
believed that these three I_deas had an indispensable function in
the "system" of human kn~w·Iedge. That is, both the unity of consciousness in the individual act of knowledge and the systematic
unity of experience as a whole demand as a logical presupposition
,
s Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, A 312, B 368 ff: in Great Books
of the Western World, Vol. 42 (Chicago: Encyclopedia Britannica, 1952),
p. 113a £f. Henceforth cited as Great Books with proper page and column.
9 Critique of Pure Reason, A 313, B 370; A 327, B 384: Great Books, PP·
113b; 117a.
1 °Critique of Pure Reawn, A 334, B 391 ff: Great Books, p. 119a.
11
'Ve presume here that Kant did not call the realities themselves of God,
the world and the soul in question but only their prevailing metaphysical
concepts.
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the existence of the three unities expressed in the Ideas: the unity
of the thinking subject, the unity of Nature as the totality of all
sensible appearances, finally the divine unity as the Ground of
Being (or more specifically, as the Ground of all objects of thought
whatsoever). 12 Because the human mind cannot prove by reason the
real existence of the objects corresponding to these Ideas, Kant
reduced these three philosophical unities to the level of directive
ideas for the understanding in its work of organizing experience
into a systematic whole. 13
In his moral philosophy Kant took up the three Ideas of Reason
again, but used them in an entirely different way, namely as practi-·
cal goals or (as in the case of the Idea of the self) as a practical
presupposition of moral behavior. That is, the Idea of the self, when
considered as presupposition for moral behavior, is that of a free,
morally responsible agent who regulates his moral activity in the
light of a self-imposed law of practical reason. 14 The goal of moral
activity for all men is on the other hand a "moral universe," i.e., one
regulated by the moral directives of man as well as by the physical
laws of nature. 15 Finally, the practical Idea of God is that of a
Supreme Lawgiver, who guarantees to man the ultimate coincidence
of moral worth and personal happiness, at least in eternity. 16 From
a speculative point of view, these Ideas remain "postulates of practical reason." 17 That is, it cannot be proven by speculative reason
that the human self is really free and not controlled by some invisible natural determinism, consequently that the universe is subject to moral as well as purely physical laws, or finally that God
really exists to reward the just in a future life. But, Kant argues,
man is powerless to act as a morally responsible agent without the
12
Critique of Pure Reason, A 334, B 391: Great Books, p. 119a.
Critique of Pure Reason, A 323, B 380: Great Books, p. 116a.
14 Immanuel Kant, "The Autonomy of the 'Vill as the Supreme Principle of
Morality," Fundamental Principles of the Metaphysics of Morals: in Great
Books (Vol. 42), p. 277. Cf. also Immanuel Kant, "Preface," Critique of
Practical Reason: in Great Books (Vol. 42), p. 291a ff.
15
Critique of Pure Reason, A 808, B 836: Great Books, 237a: also Immanuel
Kant, "Introduction," Critique of Judgment, IX: Great Books (Vol. 42), pp.
474b-475a.
16 Critique of Pure Reason, A 810, B 838: Great Books, pp. 237b-238a.
17
Critique of Practical Reason, ch. 2, VI: Great Books, p. 3~8a ff.
13
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practical presupposition of the realities corresponding to these Ideas
or postulates of practical reason. Practical reason therefore (or
reason in its practical function as a guide to moral behavior) enjoys
a certain "primacy" over speculative reason (i.e., reason in its search
for speculative certitude), because it alone "realizes" through man's
moral activity the Ideas which remain hypothetical on the speculative level.I 8
Criticism of Kant
Our criticism of Kant's doctrine of Ideas will be limited to those
points which will be shortly required for the interpretation of the
Spiritual Exercises. In our opinion, Kant remained too much within
the metaphysical tradition from which he sought to free himself via
the ·doctrine of the Ideas. That is, his primary effort in the "Transcendental Dialectic" was to establish the ontological status of the
Ideas as "pure Ideas," i.e., as Ideas to which no objects of sensible
experience immediately correspond. The polemical position thus
taken, though logically necessary for the further development of
his Critical Philosophy, nevertheless directed attention (both his
own and that of his readers) away from a more positive understanding of the Ideas as structural concepts which influence in a
decisive way the world-view or \Veltanschauung of the individual.
In his Critique of Practical Reason, Kant did indeed indirectly recognize that these three Ideas have motive force for man's moral
conduct only in virtue of a specific intellectual content. But it seems
never to have occurred to him that these same Ideas, organized
under a different aspect or higher intelligibility, might well take on
a new and different content;--i.e., that the three Ideas of God, the
world and the soul are not fixed in their meaning but are themselves subject to interpretation in virtue of still other structural
ideas, which bear more directly on moral conduct as such. The controlling idea for the three Ideas of God, the world and the soul in
Kant's Critique of Practical Reason is, for example, that of moral
duty. 19 The self is viewed by Kant in the Critique as a morally responsible individual, the world is regarded as a moral universe,
Critique of Practical Reason, ch. 2, III: Great Books, p. 343a ff.
Cf., for example, H. J. Paton, The Categorical Imperative: A Study in
Kant's Moral Philosophy. 6th ed. (London: Hutchinson & Co., 1967), PP·
46-55, 113-19.
1s
19
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and God is considered as the supreme judge and lawgiver, only in
virtue of this further structural idea of moral duty. Given another
idea of this sort, e.g., that of self-interest and/ or self-dedication,
which we will shortly consider in connection with the Spiritual
Exercises, the concepts of the self, the world and God would necessarily undergo some revision both in their intellectual content and
in their mutual bearing on the moral consciousness of the individual. Further proof of our contention here must wait, of course,
until we take up the interpretation of the Spiritual Exercises in the
second part of the article. Our aim has been simply to offer a criticism of Kant's presupposition that the Ideas of God, the world and
the self are absolute entities with fixed meanings for the individual,
whether they be considered as speculative principles for the unity
of consciousness or as practical principles ("postulates") of moral
activity. Quite the contrary, these structural concepts are in our
opinion relatively fluid in human consciousness; that is, they admit
of considerable adaptation both in their intellectual content and in
their motive-force for the individual, according as they are synthesized into this or that world-view. The world-view itself, however,
derives its unity from still another Idea or functional concept, which
bears more directly on moral conduct and carries with it therefore
the motive-power of practical conviction.20
Our own positive understanding of the term Idea, such as we will
shortly use it to interpret the Spiritual Exercises, can be summarized as follows: an Idea is first of all a non-empirical concept which
structures and illuminates not a particular object of experience but
rather the totality of experience. That is, where the normal empirical concept (e.g., that of a horse) is directly applicable to a
given object or class of objects in sensible experience and furnishes
its intelligible structure, the Idea or concept of the totality ( Totalitatsbegriff) has no immediate "object'' in experience, because the
20
Still another example of a functional concept which molds the world-view
of an individual and which thereby synthesizes the speculative ideas of God,
the world and the self according to its own higher intelligibility, is the "Idee"
in Hegel's philosophy: i.e., the absolute unity of subject and object, finite and
infinite which serves as the goal for the dynamic movement of the "Begriff"
or "Concept." Cf., for example, G. W. F. Hegel, Encyclopedia of Philosophy,
lr. G. E. Mueller (New York: Philosophical Library, 1959 ), nn. 161-62, pp.
152-54.
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reality to which it refers is somehow equivalent with the totality of
experience. The three Ideas of God, the world and the self are the
most obvious examples. Our Ideas of the self and of the world are
clearly derived not from this or that particular object of experience,
nor indeed from this or that particular experience as a whole, but
rather from the totality of our human experience, insofar as it can
be polarized now into the (logically) distinct unities of subject and
object. Likewise, the Idea of God, when it be considered as a living
reality for the individual and not simply as a single term in a logical
system of thought, is coterminous with the whole of our experience.
All that we have hitherto experienced contributes somehow to our
vital (as opposed to merely academic) understanding of God. Furthermore, the reverse is also true. \Ve interpret and order practical
daily experience in the light of our given preconceptions about God,
the world and the self.
Over and above these three speculative Ideas of God, the world
and the self, there are however in our opinion other "moral" Ideas,
which likewise bear on the totality of experience and which serve
to unite the three basic Ideas under a higher, albeit purely functional unity. That is, from a purely speculative point of view, the
three Ideas of God, the world and the self must be considered as
ultimate unities which have no intrinsic connection with one another, other than that they all arose in the consciousness of a given
individual as a result of his particular life-experience. In a practical
way, however, these three speculative Ideas are always viewed in
combination by the individu[l.l as a result of still another functional
or "moral" Idea which gives--them, for the moment at least, motive
force for practical activity. The controlling moral Idea for Kant in
his moral philosophy was, in our opinion, that of moral duty; the
controlling moral Ideas for Ignatius in the composition of the Spiritual Exercises were, as we shall shortly see in detail, those of selfinterest and of self-dedication in the service of God. These two
Ideas, the one stated succinctly in the Principle and Foundation
and the other presented dramatically in the Kingdom meditation,
compete for the attention of the exercitant as he progresses through
the Exercises toward the election. Opposed as they are in theory,
their net practical effect on the exercitant is, however, to produce a
, sane and fruitful election, one well adapted to the concrete needs
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and aspirations of the individual. The presumption is therefore that
the individual himself in practical life is moved now by one Idea
or motive, now by the other, and that a good election must somehow combine the two in order to have a lasting effect on the moral
behavior of the individual.
Admittedly, we are using the term Idea in an unconventional
sense, i.e., more as an ideal or motive for the will than as a strict
object of thought. Yet even an ideal like that of self-interest or selfdedication must have an implicit rational content or structure in
order to serve as a motive for practical activity. Every adult has for
example a practical understanding from moment to moment of
what constitutes his legitimate self-interest, likewise of what would
be under the same circumstances an act of supererogation or selfdedication. St. Ignatius's aim in the Spiritual Exercises is to give
these two moral Ideas, which are as such somewhat flexible in
human consciousness, concrete shape and form so that they can be
better employed for the service of God. The analysis of the two
"Principles and Foundations," together with the meditations which
follow and are structured by the same, should give us a new insight
both into the psychology of the Spiritual Exercises and into the
nature of these two moral Ideas, which control the thinking of the
exercitant as he moves toward the election.
B) ANALYSIS OF THE SPIRITUAL EXERCISES
"Man is created to praise, reverence, and serve God our Lord,
and by this means to save his soul."21 This first sentence of the
Principle and Foundation characterizes the strongly rational, sober
tone of the meditation as a whole. St. Ignatius uses the general terms
man and God and apparently intends simply to set forth in brief
compass the basic moral attitudes of man to God, his Creator, to
the "world" of creatures, and finally to himself as the chief of God's
creatures. The meditation is written moreover with such clarity and
simplicity, the logic of the sentences flows so smoothly, that one is
tempted to regard the Principle and Foundation as self-evident, a
summary statement of the "eternal truths" which underlie Christianity, Judaism or any of the great world-religions. This matter-of-fact
21
SpEx, 23.
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character of the meditation is however quite deceptive. St. Ignatius
actually intends to give the retreatant, via the Principle and Foundation, a new moral synthesis for his day-to-day concepts of God,
the world and the self. This synthesis, grounded in the Idea of
legitimate self-interest, can be summarized as follows: the true interest of man in this life is to serve God and thereby to save his
soul, i.e., to merit an eternity of happiness with God in heaven. The
surrounding world of creatures must be seen from this perspective
and used with great prudence so as to contribute to, and not hinder,
man's rational service of God. Only in this manner will man achieve
the necessary spiritual "indifference" in the use of these same creatures which will guarantee his eternal salvation. "Our one desire
and choice should be what is more conducive to the end for which
we ar.e created."22
22 SpEx, 23. Cf. William A. M. Peters, S.J., The Spiritual Exercises of St.
Ignatius: Exposition and Interpretation. (Jersey City, N.J.: Program to Adapt
the Spiritual Exercises, 1968 ), pp. 48-50. Fr. Peters, in this recently published
commentary on the Spiritual Exercises, has protested against a severe interpretation of this sentence in the Principle and Foundation, according to which
the exercitant at the very beginning of the retreat is morally compelled always
to seek the greater glory of God and by implication to renounce his own selfwill and self-interest. While we agree with Fr. Peters that violence should not
be done to the sensibilities of the exercitant just as he begins the Spiritual
~ Exercises, we are nevertheless skeptical that Fr. Peters has understood the
underlying tone and true context of the Principle and Foundation. According
to our understanding of the text, the Principle and Foundation is precisely an
appeal to legitimate self-interest. Hence this final sentence of the meditation
simply urges the exercitant to refled concretely on his final end and see that
the service of God is ultimately t; Flis own personal advantage. St. Ignatius
therefore at this stage of the Spiritual Exercises is not proposing to the exercitant a high ideal of ascetical perfection but rather some "common sense"
reflections on man's basic relationship to God. What Fr. Peters and, by implication, the spiritual writers whom he is here criticizing, have done is therefore to
isolate tl1is single sentence from the Principle and Foundation and look on it
as a self-contained principle of Ignatian spirituality. Fr. Peters' criticism of
this "principle" is in our opinion well-founded; but this does not disguise the
fact that the criticism itself has diverted his attention away from the total
context of the exercise, which is, practically speaking, an appeal to the exercitant's sense of personal concern and legitimate self-interest. For further
criticism of Fr. Peters' interpretation of the Spiritual Exercises, cf. nn. 26, 38,
42, 51, 69 and the "Postscript" at the end of the article. Fr. Peters' study will
qereafter be referred to as "Peters."
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It is important to see here how Ignatius has pared away all purely
speculative considerations in his scheme for the relations between
God, man and the world, which might distract the retreatant from
the effect to be achieved: namely a clear perception of his own last
end and highest good, together with an implicit exhortation to order
his life accordingly. The three generic concepts of God, the world
and the self are therefore strictly limited in their rational content
and ordered to one another in virtue of a controlling moral Idea,
that of legitimate self-interest in the service of God. Furthermore,
the moral force of the meditation, that which lifts it above a mere
exercise in logical thinking, is the personal implication involved:
i.e., that the rational service of God is ultimately in my own best
interests. Both as speculative principle uniting the other key concepts in a fixed intelligible structure and as practical motive for
moral behavior, the Idea of enlightened self-interest is therefore the
"principle and foundation," with which Ignatius begins the Spiritual
Exercises. One might object of course that the "principle" contained
in the Principle and Foundation is that of "indifference" in the use
of creatures, and it is certainly true that the ideal of indifference
is a practical principle of moral activity. \Ve would only point out
that in the meditation itself this principle is presented as a conclusion drawn from the rational consideration of the relations between
God, the world and the self in the light of the underlying Idea of
self-interest in the service of God. That is, one chooses to be indifferent in the use of creatures only because this promotes the goal
of personal salvation. Hence the principle of indifference is necessarily subordinate to the Idea of self-interest.23
Dominant motif
Likewise, the Idea of enlightened self-interest is the dominant
motif in the meditations of the First Week which follow. Here too
we have meditations which are speculative in their outer form but
2 3 One could further object that the underlying "Principle" here is the
greater glory of God: e.g., man is created to praise, reverence and serve God
etc. This consideration is clearly not absent from the meditation; yet it too
in our opinion is subordinate to the general pragmatic aim of Ignatius at this
point of the Spiritual Exercises: i.e., to arouse in the exercitant concern for his
final end. Cf. the remarks of Ignatius himself re the function of the Principle
and Foundation in the Spiritual Exercises, as quoted in Hahner, pp. 129-30.
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eminently practical in their personal application. That is, St. Ignatius
never leaves the retreatant on the purely theoretical level in the
consideration of sin, death, judgment and hell. Rather the latter is
constantly urged by Ignatius to consider his own sinfulness,2 4 to feel
shame and remorse at the disorder of his own life, 25 and finally
through the application of the senses to put himself in hell as the
ultimate consequence of his previous irrational behavior. 26 The logic
of the First Week is indeed inexorable, but the moral impact of the
meditations comes once again not from reason alone but from the
personal implication involved, namely that these are my sins and
that hell awaits me unless I exercise prudence in the use of creatures. Thus, the retreatant should finish the First Week of the
Exercises a) with the rational conviction that sin is disastrous to
the ~genuine interests of the self and b) with the sincere desire
never to sin, at least seriously, again.
St. Ignatius therefore clearly carried over the governing Idea of
the Principle and Foundation, that of legitimate self-interest, into
the meditations of the First Week. At the same time, he was too
shrewd a student of human nature not to recognize that this preoccupation even with the genuine interests of the self leaves untapped a rival motive for the moral activity of man, namely, the ideal
of personal love and of self-dedication. Accordingly, even here in
~ the exercises of the First Week, Ignatius found ways to appeal to
this other motivation in the consciousness of the exercitant without
disturbing the general tenor of the meditations as an appeal to
legitimate self-interest.27 Two. examples drawn from the exercises
Cf. the second Prelude of the flrsi and second exercises, SpEx, 48, 55.
SpEx, 63, esp. the three petitions of the colloquy.
2 6 SpEx, 65. Cf. also Peters, pp. 58-59. Fr. Peters emphasizes that the objective history of the three sins is quite subsidiary to their true function in the
meditation, which is to make the exercitant aware of himself as a fallen creature. "The subject matter of the meditation is the exercitant himself as a fallen
man, here and now, in this present situation" (59).
27 Cf. Rahner, p. 59 ff. Fr. Rahner's analysis of the Christology of the First
Week brings out well in our opinion, how Ignatius managed to anticipate the
theme of service to Christ in these exercises, even though he reserved a full
treatment of the matter to the Kingdom meditation and the exercises of the
Second 'Veek. In opposition to Fr. Rahner's hypothesis, we would however
maintain that the objective appeal to the Person of Christ in the First Week
is nevertheless made in the subjective context of the Principle and Foundation,
24
25
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of the First Week must suffice to support our contention here. At
the end of the first and again at the end of the fifth exercise, St.
Ignatius urges the retreatant to "enter into conversation with Christ
our Lord" on the cross. 28 The situation in both cases is clearly designed by Ignatius to remind the exercitant of his tremendous debt
of gratitude to Christ for his redemptive death on the cross and for
the chance thereby accorded to the exercitant himself to work out
his salvation despite so many past sins and moral failures. The triple
question in the colloquy at the end of the first exercise, for example,
"What have I done for Christ, etc.", should have the effect of making the retreatant ashamed that he has up to that moment done so
little for his Lord and Redeemer, and psychologically ready to
answer the call to personal service and generosity, when it comes. 29
The "call" however does not come until the Kingdom meditation.
The third question of the colloquy, "What ought I to do for Christ?,"
is therefore deliberately left open by Ignatius, in order not to anticipate the Kingdom meditation too much at this point of the Exer~ises. Sufficient for the moment is genuine contrition for past sins
a.;d the still inarticulate desire to do something positive for Christ.
Likewise, in the colloquy at the end of the fifth exercise, the psychological atmosphere is clearly not that of enthusiasm for the
cause of Christ, such as will be the case in the Kingdom meditation,
but rather of sober reflection upon a sin-scarred past. St. Ignatius
urges the exercitant, for example, to "give thanks to God our Lord,
because He has not permitted me to fall into any of these three
classes (of men who were lost before, during or after His coming),
so putting an end to my life." 30 Ignatius of course immediately
adds: "I shall also thank Him for this, that up to this very moment
He has shown Himself so loving and so merciful to me." 31 As a
master psychologist, the saint seldom appeals to the exercitant on
the basis of a single motive; but, keeping in mind the transient
character of human affections, he gently counsels both fear and
love, legitimate self-interest and an incipient self-dedication, in the
i.e., in terms of legitimate self-interest, and therefore not in context of the Kingdom meditation with its direct and immediate appeal to self-dedication.
2 s SpEx, 53, 71.
29 Cf. Rahner, pp. 59-60, 79-80, for another interpretation of this colloquy.
30 SpEx, 71.
31 SpEx, 71.
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service of God. The overall tone of the colloquy remains however
that of the First \Veek in general: sorrow for sin and a firm purpose
of amendment.
Second Week
On the other hand, in the Second Week of the Exercises the
spiritual motivation and therefore the subjective thought-world of
the exercitant is entirely different. In a moment we shall make a
detailed examination of the Kingdom meditation as the source, the
"principle and foundation" of this new thought-world. First, however, we shall take a quick look at the Rules for the Discernment of
Spirits, where Ignatius himself acknowledges a change of atmosphere for the exercitant between the First and the Second Weeks
and'consequently a shift in strategy for the evil spirit in his attempt
to ~l'iinder the work of the retreat. According to Ignatius, the evil
spirit in the First Week acts initially as a temptress, seeking to
distract the retreatant from the somewhat distasteful job of sober
self-examination and of sorrow for sin via a clear and unmistakable
temptations to sensual pleasures, etc.s2 If the retreatant nevertheless persists in the work of self-purgation, the evil spirit then
awakens doubt and anxieties in the consciousness of the retreatant
about the prudence of such a drastic reformation of character. 33
In both cases, therefore, the evil spirit openly appeals to the exercitant's self-interest, although in a perverted form. His strategy
in the Second Week is however altogether different, since he here
seeks to pervert the opposite motive of self-dedication, to which the
exercitant is now drawn as _·a result of the Kingdom meditation.
Accordingly, he will now app~ar as an "angel of light": "He begins
by suggesting thoughts that are suited to a devout soul, and ends
by suggesting his own."34 That is, the devil accepts as given the
new motivation of the exercitant to self-dedication in virtue of the
Kingdom meditation, but cunningly seeks to lead him astray in the
formulation of concrete projects which will implement this new
ideal. 35 St. Ignatius's Rules for the Discernment of Spirits indicate
clearly therefore, if only by indirection, that the exercitant has
SpEx,
SpEx,
34 SpEx,
ss SpEx,
32
33
314.
315.
332.
336.
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�EXERCISES
undergone a profound spiritual reorientation in virtue of the Kingdom meditation, which thus qualifies as a second "Principle and
Foundation" for the Exercises.
Our analysis of the Kingdom meditation will have the same goal
as was previously aimed at in the Principle and Foundation: that is,
to show that the meditation is controlled from within, so to speak,
by an Idea which gives both speculative unity and motive force to
the whole. The Idea in this meditation is of course the ideal of selfdedication. The general effect of the meditation is then to link the
historical personality of Jesus Christ with this ideal in the consciousness of the exercitant. St. Ignatius achieves this effect through
the use of an elaborate analogy between Christ the Eternal King
and a temporal ruler who issues a call to all Christian knights to
join him in a new crusade against the infidel. The pageantry of a
medieval army on the march is thus imaginatively invoked by
Ignatius in order to arouse in advance the enthusiasm of the exercitant for this ideal of self-dedication. Then in the second part of
the meditation, the saint presents the dogmatic truth which is the
core of the meditation, namely that Christ as the God-Man is like. vise a king, in fact, the king of kings, and that it is His will "to
conquer the whole world . . ,''3 6 It is important to see here that
Ignatius has notably simplified the theology of the redemption by
presenting it under this military metaphor, but that he has also
through the metaphor made the dogmatic belief in Christ's universal
kingship dramatically much more appealing to the exercitant. That
is, he has turned a simple belief into a motive for practical activity
via the ideal of self-dedication. Without the romantic setting provided by the call of the temporal king, the assertion of Christ's
kingship in this second half of the meditation could indeed command the intellectual assent of the exercitant but never evoke his
enthusiasm to serve under Christ's banner, to contribute his share
to work in the Kingdom.
Furthermore, Ignatius clearly intends to arouse in the exercitant
sentiments of personal love and self-dedication which go beyond
what would constitute the reasonable service of God. In the second
point of this second part of the meditation, Ignatius notes briefly
that "all persons who have judgment and reason will offer themsa
SpEx, 95.
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selves entirely for this work." 37 The full effect of the meditation is
reserved, however, for those "who wish to give greater proof of
their love, and to distinguish themselves in the service of the Eternal King." 38 These chosen followers of Christ, who are especially
favored by divine grace, are urged by Ignatius to "make offerings
of greater value,"39 which in effect constitute a total sacri:S.ce of self
interest for the sake of Christ and the Kingdom. The climax of the
meditation is then reached with the colloquy, "Eternal Lord of all
things," 40 in which the exercitant offers himself without reserve to
Christ for the work of the Kingdom. The Idea of self-dedication is
thus the guiding principle of the entire meditation, giving it, as
noted above, both speculative unity and motive power. That is, the
ideal of self-dedication provides on the one hand the rational basis
for ·the analogy between Christ and the temporal rules, and is on
the·other hand likewise the motive force in the colloquy, where the
exercitant makes the initial offering of himself to Christ.
A second principle and foundation
The kingdom meditation is therefore a second "Principle and
Foundation" for the Exercises; that is, it represents both a new
SpEx, 96.
SpEx, 97. Cf. also Peters, pp. 76-77. Fr. Peters in his interpretation of the
Kingdom meditation is critical of the customary translation and interpretation
of this text, according to which the exercitant should desire to give greater
proof of his love for Christ. The opposition between the second and the third
points of the second part of the meditation is "certainly not between subjects
of the Lord who are moved by love and those who wish to be moved by
greater love. The contrast is between common sense as motive and love as
motive" ( 77). Thus far we are irr-complete accord with Peters. \Vith his further
interpretation of the meditation as a whole, however, we totally disagree. He
suggests, for example, that the Kingdom meditation is only a transitional
meditation from the First to the Second \Veeks of the Exercises, hence it may
be omitted if the retreatant can make the transition on his own ( 72). This
ignores of course the function of the Kingdom meditation as a second "Principle
and Foundation" for the Spiritual Exercises. Only in the light of the Kingdom
and the personal call of Christ to the exercitant does the Third Prelude of each
contemplation in the Second vVeek make sense: namely to know and love
Christ better and to follow Him more closely. In his concern to rid the Spiritual
Exercises of an injudicious ascetical interpretation ( cf. 78), Peters has in our
opinion gone much too far in the opposite direction. Cf. on this point the
"Postscript" at the end of the article.
39 SpEx, 97.
40 SpEx, 98.
37
38
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perspective and fresh motivation for the exercitant, as he moves
through the Exercises toward the election. In the subsequent contemplations on the life of Christ, we see, moreover, how the ideal of
self-dedication, as embodied now concretely in the Person of Christ
and in the work of the Kingdom, furnishes the controlled point of
view and interior motivation necessary for a practical grasp of these
same mysteries of Christ's life. That is, Ignatius does not present
the meditations on the Incarnation, the Nativity, etc., simply to give
the exercitant something pious to think about before making his
election. Rather the saint employs this prayerful contemplation of
the life of Christ to further the work of the retreat in a quite specific
way: that is, to deepen and strengthen the resolve of the exercitant
to give himself entirely to Christ as his leader and king. The third
Prelude which is specified for all the exercises of the Second Week
brings out very clearly this controlling Idea of self-dedication to
Christ. The exercitant should ask "for an intimate knowledge of our
Lord (who has become man for me, who was born in great poverty
for me, etc.) that I may love Him more and follow Him more
closely."41 In and through the contemplations of the Second Week,
therefore, Ignatius is deliberately driving home the one basic Idea
of total self-dedication to Christ. The Kingdom meditation is accordingly "Principle and Foundation" for the exercises which follow
it, because it first gives concrete form and meaning to this controlling Idea in the consciousness of the exercitant.
On the other hand, St. Ignatius does not allow the exercitant to
forget the other Principle and Foundation with its dominant motive
of legitimate self-interest. Admittedly, the contemplations on the
life of Christ are motivated solely by the Ideal of total self-dedication to Christ. Over and above these exercises, however, there are
the so-called "structural" meditations of the Second Week: the Two
Standards, the Three Classes of Men, finally the Three Kinds of
Humility. In these meditations St. Ignatius is, in our opinion, clearly
appealing to the retreatant on the basis both of legitimate selfinterest and of total self-dedication to Christ. Naturally, the objective goal to be achieved in both cases is the same: namely a sane
and solid election during the retreat and then the practical execution of this election in daily life afterwards. The subjective motiva41
SpEx, 104.
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tion, however, which leads the exercitant to make this practical decision, can and in our opinion should be dual; that is, it should
appeal to both sides of his personality, hence satisfy both the desire
for personal salvation and the rival inclination to self-immolation,
self-dedication to a cause or a person other than the self. Reduction
of the one motive to the other in the consciousness of the exercitant
would destroy much of the practical effectiveness of the Exercises.
That is, an election made solely out of love for Christ might well be
visionary and impractical in its concrete execution; on the other
hand, an election made exclusively in the interests of self, however
enlightened by grace, might still be one-sided in its scope and in
any case would fail to generate enthusiasm for practical execution.
Accordingly, Ignatius presents in these structural meditations, which
immediately prepare the exercitant for the election, considerations
calculated to arouse both motives in his consciousness.
In the meditation on the Two Standards, for example, Ignatius
presents in contrasting pictures the strategy of Satan and the
strategy of our Lord in the struggle for men's souls. 42 This meditation is clearly intended not only to advise the future apostle on how
to deal with others in the apostolate but, more immediately for the
purposes of the retreat, to set him thinking once more about his
own spiritual state. The Exercises of the First ·week with their
purification of legitimate self-interest are behind him; likewise the
exercitant has felt the "call" to personal generosity in the Kingdom
meditation. But Ignatius knows on the one hand full well that the
will to self-interest in the exercitant can once again be perverted,
i.e., seek more immediate goals as the satisfaction of its desires.
Likewise, Ignatius is aware~that the opposite will to self-dedication
in the exercitant needs further support through a quite specific
analysis of the strategy of Christ in the Kingdom. Accordingly, he
SpEx, 136-148. Cf. however Peters, p. 93: "On no account must the
meditation on the intention of Christ and the intention of Satan be reduced
to the instrumental function of making a sound election." Fr. Peters believes
that the meditation on the Two Standards presents in its own right one of the
great truths of Christianity, namely the unending conflict between Christ and
Satan until the Last Judgment. Our difficulty with this interpretation is the
pragmatic one that truth which is not actively embraced and made a principle
of practical activity is likely to be sterile. The reality of the struggle demands
the active participation of the exercitant, and this is normally achieved through
the election.
42
,
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presents in one and the same meditation a critique of the will to
self-interest and a moral exhortation to stimulate the will to selfdedication in the exercitant. The election is of course the concrete
goal both of the rational critique of self-interest and of the exhortation to personal generosity in the cause of Christ. Yet each "part"
of the meditation works on the consciousness of the exercitant via
a different motive to achieve this common goal. In no sense therefore is the first part of the meditation with its presentation of the
strategy of Satan simply a ploy or rhetorical device to set off by contrast the figure of Christ and the nobility of his call. Rather Ignatius
has in mind to keep fresh in the consciousness of the exercitant
genuine concern for his eternal salvation, which will then contribute
to the election later on in the retreat.
Three classes of men
This latter consideration is well brought out by the next structural meditation on the Three Classes of Men. 43 St. Ignatius openly
presents this meditation in terms of the legitimate self-interest of
the exercitant. The "ten thousand ducats" are symbolic for a real
moral obstacle to one's eternal salvation, and the attitudes successively taken by the three "classes" of men are clearly representative of the three basic moral attitudes of a Christian in the face of
a personal decision of considerable moment for his eternal salvation.
The exercitant is thus urged on the basis of prudent self-interest to
follow the example of the third "class" of men, make the necessary
spiritual renunciation of his own inordinate self-will and not thereby
jeopardize his own highest good. 44 On the other hand, this same
objective renunciation of the ten thousand ducats could likewise
be made on the basis of the opposite motive, that of self-dedication
to Christ. Ignatius moreover uses the representation of place in the
second prelude so as to appeal to this ideal of self-dedication in the
43
44
SpEx, 149-57.
SpEx, 155. St. Ignatius hints broadly that the first "class" of men met an
unfortunate end, since these individuals had made no spiritual renunciation
of the suspect ducats up to the moment of death. Likewise in his presentation
of the second "class" of men, Ignatius seems to imply that the eternal salvation
of the individuals involved might well be in question, since they were openly
deceiving themselves about the nature of the renunciation. Hence simply in
terms of legitimate self-interest, one should subscribe to the attitude of the
third "class" of men.
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consciousness of the exercitant. The latter should place himself "in
the presence of God our Lord and of all His saints," desirous to
know "what is more pleasing to His divine Goodness." 45 The term,
"God our Lord," here as elsewhere in the Exercises, clearly refers
to Christ rather than God the Father. 46 Accordingly, the retreatant
is making this exercise of the retreat in the presence of his leader
and king, who is surrounded by the saints, his loyal followers in the
Kingdom. Furthermore, in the note attached to the meditation, St.
Ignatius pointedly implies that the retreatant should be weighing
the possibility of a total self-dedication to Christ. 47 All this notwithstanding, the meditation still seems to be grounded in the
motive of legitimate self-interest, since only the third "class" of
retreatant is genuinely free of dangerous self-deception in the matter
Qt' his eternal salvation. By this interweaving of motives of selfinterest and of self-dedication within the same meditation, St.
Ignatius seems therefore to imply that the attitude of the third
"class" of men is indeed a matter of self-interest, but that the actual
choice of this attitude by the exercitant will most likely be prompted
less by self-interest than by its opposite motive, that of total selfdedication to Christ for the work of the Kingdom.
This same interplay of rival interests or motives in the consciousness of the exercitant is extended into the last of the structural
meditations on the Three Kinds of Humility. 48 In this meditation,
which directly precedes the election itself, the exercitant is urged
by Ignatius to weigh both types of motivation prayerfully in the
light of their possible consequences. The meditation contains indeed
three points, i.e., three "kintls" of humility, but the first two "kinds"
represent the one ideal of legitimate self-interest at two successive
stages of development. That is, the first "kind" of humility describes
the minimal level of enlightened self-interest necessary for salvation.49 This is in no way to deny the need for divine grace to act
according to this ideal, particularly in the extreme case of martyrdom for the faith. The point however is that the exercitant is urged
once more to think in terms of his final end and highest good and
SpEx, 151.
Hahner, p. 64.
47 SpEx, 157.
•s SpEx, 165-168.
49 SpEx, 165.
45
46
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act accordingly in the matter of an election. The second "kind" of
humility proposes on the other hand a much higher, more purified
version of the Idea of legitimate self-interest in the service of God,
an ideal worthy indeed of observance by a saint. Accordingly to
this ideal, the individual considers the greater glory of God and his
own self-interest to be so closely bound together that he would not
commit even a venial sin to separate them in actual practice. 50
Clearly even an approximation to this ideal of conduct in daily life
would demand great moral heroism and the overwhelming favor of
divine grace. The ideal of enlightened self-interest as thus presented
is therefore the natural climax of the line of thought and motivation
which originated in the Principle and Foundation at the beginning
of the Exercises.
St. Ignatius however has consistently throughout the Exercises
opposed to the motive of legitimate self-interest its opposite, that of
total self-dedication to Christ. Accordingly, he presents in this
meditation as the third "kind" of humility the natural climax of this
rival line of thought and motivation. The exercitant should ideally
"desire and choose poverty with Christ poor, rather than riches,
etc." 51 There is indeed no bridge or logical connection between the
50
SpEx, 166. Cf. de Guibert, The Jesuits, p. 175. De Guibert believes that
there are two principal sources for Ignatian spirituality and for the fruitfulness
of the Spiritual Exercises: "powerful supernatural logic and passionate love for
Christ." Both of these factors are involved in the meditation on the Three
Kinds of Humility, although in such a way that the "supernatural logic," as
given in the Principle and Foundation and elsewhere, is ultimately subordinate
to the latter motive, "passionate love for Christ." For further analysis of this
meditation by de Guibert, see pp. 129-30.
51 SpEx, 167. Cf. also Peters, p. 124: "Whereas in the first and second kinds
of humility the reference is only to 'God our Lord', Christ is now mentioned
by name no less than four times. The third kind evidently implies a personal
relationship with Christ, and with Christ as a 11an of sufferings." At the same
time, Fr. Peters maintains that the exercise as a whole was not intended for
"the exercitant of the twentieth Annotation" ( 123 ). In his view, the open
appeal to the motive of self-interest in the first two Kinds of Humility is
inconsistent with the aspirations of the retreatant in the entire preceding
Second Week of the Exercises. Our own position is, of course, that St. Ignatius
Was a better student of human nature than Fr. Peters. That is, he recognized,
in our opinion, that no individual, however elevated his prayer and affective
Union with God, can absolve himself from concern about his eternal salvation;
furthermore, that an appeal to self-interest, even at this stage of the retreat,
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purified Ideal of self-interest in the second point and this summary
statement of the Ideal of self-dedication in the third point, since the
two points represent rival streams of thought and motivation in the
Exercises, each of which is grounded in a different "Principle and
Foundation." St. Ignatius's purpose in the meditation is therefore to
present to the exercitant shortly before the election these two underlying motives or directive ideas for practical moral conduct, either
of which theoretically can serve as the basis for a fruitful election.
That is, whether the exercitant chooses to act on the motive of enlightened self-interest, as represented in the second point of the
meditation, or on the basis of self-dedication to Christ, as depicted
in the third point, he can be morally certain that his election will
be made under the influence of divine grace and therefore represenJ for him the concrete will of God in his life.
A priority
St. Ignatius, to be sure, does describe the third "kind" of humility
as the "most perfect,"3:? and the use of this term rather obviously
gives a priority to the latter over the second "kind" as the ideal
disposition for making the election. It should be noted however that
the priority of the third "kind" over the second lies alone in the
subjective motive for making the election, and not in the objective
good to be thereby attained. That is, the second "kind" of humility
proposes in its own way an absolute good for the exercitant, namely
the greater glory of God and his own eternal salvation. The good
proposed by the third "kind" of humility, namely personal love of
Christ and self-dedication to. the work of the Kingdom, is in no
sense a higher objective good for the exercitant, but it does appeal
to a nobler instinct in human nature than legitimate self-interest.
This higher motive of personal love for another and of self-dedication to a cause which transcends strictly personal interests is alone
the reason why Ignatius can regard the third "kind" of humility as
more perfect than the second. Furthermore, as a practical disposition for making an election, the motive of self-dedication seems
preferable to that of legitimate self-interest, because in actual practice an exercitant is thereby more receptive to the influences of
might well be for this or that particular retreatant, the best possible psychological preparation for the election.
52 SpEx, 167.
,
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divine grace. It would be a mistake however to suppose that grace
works in the consciousness of the exercitant exclusively via the
motive of self-dedication. The opposite motive of legitimate selfinterest in the consciousness of the exercitant is likewise a vehicle
for the operation of divine grace, although the subjective state of
the exercitant is then altogether different.
This last observation is confirmed by Ignatius himself in his remarks about the "Three Times when a Correct and Good Choice
may be Made." 53 Both the first and the second "times" presume that
the election is to be made under the influence of "consolation," i.e.,
when the exercitant feels the strong attraction of the ideal of selfdedication to Christ. In the first "time" the call to personal generosity is direct and compelling. 5 4 In the second "time" the same appeal
is broken up by intervening periods of dryness or even desolation. 55
The exercitant however is expected by Ignatius, through reflection
to recapitulate these scattered impulses of grace to self-dedication
and thus attain to something like the first "time" at second hand,
so to speak. 56 The third "time" on the other hand represents an entirely different subjective disposition on the part of the exercitant.
It is, as Ignatius notes, a "time of tranquillity," 57 when the exercitant
quietly reflects on that practical choice which will most assuredly
promote his own eternal salvation and the greater glory of God. The
impulses of divine grace are therefore no longer mediated by the
ideal of self-dedication in the mind of the exercitant with its spontaneous overtones of enthusiasm and joy in the service of Christ.
Rather grace now works through the deliberations of reason, insotar
as the latter are guided by the ideal or motive of legitimate selfinterest. That is, that which the exercitant ultimately chooses as
more "reasonable," is such only in the light of the ideal of legitimate
self-interest, which itself has been purified of all irrational and
selfish tendencies through the operation of grace.
53
SpEx, 175-177.
SpEx, 175.
55 SpEx, 176.
5 6 Cf. Fessard, La Dialectique des Exercises, p. 77: "Bref, entre Ia vocation
du 'premier Temps' et celle du 'deuxieme Temps', il n'y a d'autre difference
qu'entre !'unite simple contenue dans l'Instant et le multiple fractionne en
divers moments discontinus."
57 SpEx, 177.
54
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Further insight into the thinking of Ignatius on this point can be
found in his elaboration of the two "ways," through which an exercitant can make a fruitful election during the third "time," i.e.,
when he is principally motivated by the ideal of enlightened selfinterest. The first "way" is clearly more logical in character; that is,
the retreatant should strive to attain an objective equilibrium in his
deliberations and not allow any extraneous thoughts or desires to
influence his final decision. 5 8 The second "way" is on the other hand
more psychological; that is, Ignatius urges the exercitant to use his
imagination more to attain the desired objectivity in his decision:
i.e., to imagine himself as the advisor to a third party, to put himself on his deathbed or before the judgment-seat of God, etc. 59 In
both·these "ways," however, the objectivity thus attained is itself
intermediate to the underlying ideal of legitimate self-interest, in
the light of which alone all possible choices are weighed and one
choice is finally made as being in itself more "reasonable." In other
words, "pure objectivity" would not promote, but rather inhibit, a
practical decision, because it would provide no concrete norm for
the decision as to what is more reasonable. The underlying ideal or
motive of legitimate self-interest unobtrusively informs therefore
the deliberations of reason during the third "time" to make an election, and we may safely presume that the action of grace is medi- ated by this governing ideal of self-interest in the consciousness of
the exercitant, just as in the first and the second "times" the action
of grace is clearly conditioned by the opposite ideal of self-dedication. In brief, therefore, St. Igpatius exhibits considerable flexibility
in the Rules for making an--election. He prescribes no fixed and
certain subjective dispositions for the election, but presupposes only
that the exercitant will be led to respond to divine grace in one of
several ways: either under the clear and compelling influence of
the ideal of self-dedication to Christ, or via the deliberations of
reason, insofar as the latter are guided by the ideal of legitimate
self-interest or finally through some combination of the preceding
two approaches, which best suits his own individual disposition. 60
SpEx, 179.
SpEx, 185-187.
6° Cf. de Guibert, The Jesuits, p. 134, for further confirmation of this rival
_'motivation in the manner of making an election and in Ignatian spirituality as
a whole.
os
G9
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A shift in point of view
To conclude this part of our presentation, we will refer briefly to
two other passages in these same rules for making an election,
which in our opinion indicate dramatically how Ignatius himself
was constantly shifting his point of view to meet now the ideal of
legitimate self-interest, now the opposite ideal of self-dedication.
In the "Introduction to Making a Choice of a Way of Life," 61
Ignatius clearly presupposes the thought-world of the first Principle
and Foundation, i.e., the ideal of legitimate self-interest. His words
are as follows: "In every good choice, as far as depends on us, our
intention must be simple. I must consider only the end for which
I am created, that is, for the praise of God our Lord and for the
salvation of my soul. Hence, whatever I choose must help me to the
end for which I am created."62 One could of course argue here that
this goal of the "praise of God our Lord" presumes a high degree of
self-sacrifice and therefore is motivated by the ideal of self-dedication. We would not deny that the ideal of self-dedication, as presented in the course of the Exercises, has helped to purify the opposite ideal of self-interest, so that the individual at this point of the
retreat sees his own interests as intimately linked with the "praise
of God our Lord." The point however is that the individual is still
being urged by Ignatius to think in terms of his own salvation and
consequently in terms of his own self-interest. The logic of the ideal
of self-dedication dictates on the other hand an entirely different
course of action, as the second passage brings out quite clearly.
This second passage is taken from the "Directions for the Amendment and Reformation of One's Way of Living in his State of Life" 63
and represent so to speak St. Ignatius's last words on the subject of
an election. "Let him (the exercitant) desire and seek nothing except the greater praise and glory of God our Lord as the aim of all
he does. For every one must keep in mind that in all that concerns
the spiritual life his progress will be in proportion to his surrender
of self-love and of his own will and interests."64 Although the
"praise of God our Lord" is likewise in this passage the objective
goal proposed to the exercitant by Ignatius, the subjective motive
SpEx,
SpEx,
63 SpEx,
64 SpEx,
61
62
169.
169.
189.
189.
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to which appeal is made is altogether different from that in the first
passage. The exercitant is now urged, no longer to think in terms of
his own personal salvation, but to allow himself to be led by the
ideal of self-dedication to make a total surrender of his own selfwill and self-interests. Naturally, one can qualify this statement by
saying that Ignatius has in mind inordinate self-will and self-interest.
This explanation is of course in itself true, but it subtly weakens the
moral power of the ideal of self-dedication, as contained in the
works of Ignatius. That is, it reduces, practically speaking, the motive of self-dedication with its imaginative appeal to personal generosity to the motive of legitimate self-interest with its basis in
rational deliberation. St. Ignatius on the other hand expected, in
our opinion, that the retreatant would be influenced by both forms
of Itlotivation in coming to a practical decision about the election.
Accordingly, while attention is given to the motive of self-interest
above all in the introduction of the rules for making an election,
the saint ends these same considerations with an open appeal to
generosity and self-dedication, which should stir the imagination of
the exercitant and lead him to attempt the well-nigh impossible.
Armed with this double motivation of self-interest and of selfdedication, the retreatant will most certainly make a fruitful election, one in which he can have confidence later on simply because
it appeals to both sides of his personality.
C) THREE PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS
In this final section we wiii offer a few practical suggestions for
the presentation of the Exercises, all of which reflect in one way or
another our basic hypothesis. That is, because we believe that there
are two "Principles and Foundations", i.e., two controlling Ideas, in
the Exercises, we likewise propose that the various exercises of the
retreat should be given so as to highlight and constrast with one
another these same two Ideas. Accordingly, we would first of all
suggest that the Principle and Foundation and the meditations of
the First Week should be given, as far as circumstances allow, simply as they stand in the text of the Exercises, i.e., with a minimum
of theological elaboration. A thoroughly Christological interpreta·'tion of these same exercises, such as Fr. Rahner proposes in his
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article, 65 is in our opinion questionable because it too readily distracts the attention of the retreatant from the main objective of the
First \Veek: genuine contrition for sin and a firm purpose of amendment because sin endangers one's personal salvation, i.e., one's
legitimate self-interest. Naturally, no fixed rules can be laid down
in advance, because the needs and spiritual training of retreatants
vary so greatly. Nevertheless, it seems safe to say that all retreatants
can follow with profit the line of thought laid down so simply and
directly in the Principle and Foundation and then make the exercises of the First Week in the light of the same ideal of legitimate
self-interest. This is in no way a morbid preoccupation with an
unpleasant side of life, but simply a recognition that the ideal or
motive of self-interest likewise has a part to play in the spiritual
life, and that if it be minimized in the Exercises, the practical
appeal of the latter is as a result at least partially lost.
It is, for example, in our opinion debatable whether the meditation on the triple sin in the First \Veek really gains in moral persuasiveness, if the retreatmaster interweaves with the points as given
by Ignatius a theology of sin, which seeks to unite the fall of the
angels, the sin of Adam and Eve and finally the redemption of man
through Christ's death on the cross in one synthetic view. 66 \Vhat is
morally significant for the exercitant at this point of the retreat is
the fact of sin, not its explanation via a theological synthesis. Hence
the three examples given by Ignatius of actual or presumed serious
sin should have the effect of awakening in the consciousness of the
exercitant a sense of unease and confusion, because he too has
sinned seriously or has at least been severely tempted to sin. The
speculative synthesis on the other hand keeps the retreatant's mind
active on a superficial level of consciousness, i.e., on the level of
abstract theory, where his own personal feelings are not so immediately engaged. The Christological element is of course present in
the meditation and should be made use of in the colloquy at the
end. But here too its use should be largely limited to arousing compunction in the exercitant for past failure in the service of his loving Lord. 67 There will be time enough later in the Second Week to
develop the theme of redemption through Christ.
65
Cf. n. 1 above.
Hahner, p. 59 ff.
67 Hahner, pp. 69-80.
66
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This last point brings us to our second suggestion for the presentation of the Exercises. According to our hypothesis, the contemplations on the life of Christ have really only one purpose:
namely to nourish and deepen the ideal of self-dedication to Christ,
which has been awakened in the exercitant as a result of the Kingdom meditation. Hence we would suggest that the retreatmaster
once more keep his points simple, i.e., develop the pertinent text of
Scripture only so far as necessary to stir the imagination of the retreatant, and that he aim above all at making the concrete person
of Christ, his historical life and work, as vivid and attractive as
possible. In this way the psychological link with the Kingdom
meditation will never be lost: "It is my will to conquer the whole
world etc.''68 "Practical" reflections on the life of Christ, on the other
hand;··which aim at presenting in successive meditations a broad
spectrum of virtues required for the apostolic and/ or religious life
are in our opinion often not very practical at all, because they once
again distract attention from the main work of the Second Week:
to arouse loyalty and personal devotion to Christ in the exercitant.
Hence, if the retreatmaster chooses to make certain practical reflections on the life of Christ in his "points," these should be brief and
directly geared to a better understanding of the scene from the life
of Christ which is being contemplated.
Our third and last suggestion relates to the structural exercises of
the Second \Veek: the Two Standards, the Three Classes of Men,
the Three Kinds of Humility. Keeping in mind our hypothesis, that
Ignatius presents a double moti,vation in these meditations, i.e., both
that of legitimate self-interest-wd that of self-dedication to Christ,
we would suggest that they be presented so as to allow the retreatant to choose for himself that motivation which most appeals to
him at the moment. That is, he should not be urged too strongly to
make a total oblation of himself to Christ at the end of the meditation on the Two Standards, if his interests are for the moment more
engaged with the strategy of Satan and the danger to legitimate
self-interest. There will be time later to make the self-oblation to
Christ, when his feelings and the action of grace lead in that direction. On the other hand, in the meditation on the Three Classes of
Men, the exercitant should be urged to skip the first two points or
ss SpEx, 95.
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"classes," if he is currently experiencing strong consolation with the
ideal of total self-dedication to Christ. The appeal to the motive of
legitimate self-interest would at this point only jar the natural response of the exercitant to the impulses of grace. Finally, in the
meditation on the Three Kinds of Humility, the superiority of the
third "kind" over the second should in our opinion be carefully
qualified by the observation on the part of the retreatmaster, that
it is simply a question of different motives for the same objective
goal. He should moreover make clear to the exercitant that a wholehearted response to the "call" of Christ, although clearly intended
by St. Ignatius to be the goal of the Exercises, is nevertheless a
matter of divine grace as well as of good will on his own part. In
this way the retreatmaster will guarantee to the exercitant the
maximum liberty of thought and feeling, i.e., freedom from psychological constraint, as the latter prepares for the concrete choice of
the election. 69
Complementary interpretations
·when one compares the above, rather sketchy interpretation of
the Spiritual Exercises with the massive scholarship into Ignatiana,
which Fr. Hugo Raimer presents in his article on the Christology
of the Exercises, the hypothesis which we have set forth may seem
very fragile indeed. This would especially be the case, if one viewed
the two interpretations of the Exercises as mutually exclusive. In
our opinion, however, there is reason to believe that they are complementary, since the one interpretation looks more to the speculative unity of the Exercises and the other more to their subjective
effect on the exercitant. The difference in point of view can perhaps
be indicated as follows. According to Fr. Raimer, the objective
unity of the Exercises, their "Principle and Foundation," is to be
found in the Kingdom meditation with its theme of total self6 9 Cf. Peters, p. 78. Fr. Peters' comment here on the psychological freedom
of the exercitant to make an oblation of himself or not (on the occasion of the
Kingdom meditation) are in our opinion eminently sound. \Ve question only
whether one must so drastically de-emphasize the election within the framework of the Spiritual Exercises in order to maintain this precious spiritual independence of the exercitant. In our opinion, multiple motivation for the election can guarantee this same psychological freedom without sacrificing the
traditional role of the election within the Spiritual Exercises.
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~
dedication to Christ. Moreover, as Fr. Raimer's abundant citations
from the Directorium and other related sources of Ignatiana make
clear, the focal-point of Ignatian spirituality, which arises out of
the Exercises, is likewise profoundly Christological. On the other
hand, if we consider not the speculative unity of the Exercises nor
the abstract concept of Ignatian spirituality, but rather the concrete
exercitant with his individual needs and aspirations, then one can
properly ask whether it is better to present the Exercises simply
from the viewpoint of total self-dedication to Christ or whether one
should not stress the dual motivation of the Exercises both to legitimate self-interest and to self-dedication. Provided that both sources
of motivation aim at the same generic goal, namely a sound election,
there, seems to be a psychological advantage in offering the retreatanLinore than one source of motivation to achieve this end. Moreover, the contrast between the two types of motivation should only
heighten the distinctive subjective appeal of each to the retreatant.
The psychological "mistake," if we may call it such, of a synthetic
view of the Exercises, such as Fr. Ralmer proposes, is that its po\ver
of persuasion lies more in the realm of thought than in that of action. That is, it presumes that an objective good, when once fully
understood, exerts indefinitely a compelling influence on the will as
a motive for practical activity. Accordingly, the best possible motivation is that which lays out a single line of thought and imagery
with the utmost clarity. In point of fact, however, practical decisions
are most frequently made under the influence of several subjective
motives, quite apart from the objective good to be attained. 1.'loreover,
in the execution of this sam~· decision, an individual will normally
feel the appeal now of one motive, now of another, according to
subjective mood and changing circumstances. \Ve may conclude,
therefore, that in actual practice multiple motivation, i.e., motivation which appeals alternately to several "interests" in the consciousness of the exercitant, is psychologically stronger than a single
line of motivation, which is derived exclusively from a speculative
synthesis, however artfully contrived. For these mundane, but
nevertheless quite practical reasons, we feel that our interpretation
of the Spiritual Exercises offers a realistic counter-balance to the
otherwise very impressive synthetic view of the Exercises developed
by Fr. Rahner.
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D) PosTSCRIPT
In the footnotes to this article, frequent reference has been made
to a new interpretation of the Spiritual Exercises, that of Fr. \Villiam A. M. Peters, S.J., The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius:
Exposition and Interpretation. This interpretation is however sufficiently important to deserve special comment and criticism in the
following postscript. First of all, I would agree with the editor of
the text, Fr. Henry Birkenhauer, S.J., that Fr. Peter's interpretation
is important because it emphasizes an often neglected aspect of the
Exercises, namely their function as a "school of prayer," specifically,
of contemplation. 70 Especially since the Exercises are most often
given to formed religious or lay people already secure in their
vocation, it is surely pointless to insist that the Exercises climax in
the choice of a state of life. Fr. Peters is also undoubtedly correct
in his assumption that the essential aim of the Exercises is to allow
God to work in the soul, to communicate himself to the Exercitant. 71
In line with this hypothesis, Fr. Peters has however in my opinion
unduly minimized the importance of the "structural" meditations
in the Exercises, specifically the Principle and Foundation, the
Kingdom Meditation, the Two Standards, the Three Classes of Men
and finally the Three Degrees of Humility, at least insofar as these
meditations are understood to prepare the exercitant psychologically
for the election at the end of the Second Week. While there is
surely merit in respecting the subjective disposition of the exercitant
so that he is not dragooned into making a hasty choice by the sheer
momentum of the Exercises themselves, I nevertheless believe that
Fr. Peters has erred in thus de-emphasizing the election as the
natural goal of the Exercises. It cannot be denied that the Exercises,
especially when made in their entirety, are an effective school of
prayer for the exercitant in daily life afterwards; yet the immediate
aim of the Exercises is still, as Fr. Peters himself admits, to introduce "order" into the life of the exercitant. 72 This order is certainly
the effect of divine grace, but it is concomitantly the result of a
conscious choice by the exercitant himself. This choice for God and
for Christ is nothing else than the election in its deepest existential
Peters, p. x.
Peters, pp. 1, 4.
72 Peters, p. 6.
70
71
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implications. Hence, if the election be thus understood as the necessary response of the exercitant to the movement of grace, then
there can be no question that the election is and must remain the
natural goal of the Exercises.
My own interpretation of the Exercises presupposes this deeper
understanding of the election as an existential commitment on the
one hand to God as Creator and Lord and on the other to Christ as
the cherished leader and king. That is, because the election is a
personal commitment, which must be renewed regularly after the
retreat is over, in moments both of optimism and discouragement,
of spiritual zeal and of open temptation, it seemed good to me to
emphasize the multiple motivation which Ignatius provides in the
Exercises themselves for abiding by one's choice for God and for
Chhst. \Vhen enthusiasm for the cause of Christ wanes, then prude'ilt self-interest will hold the exercitant to his election. Admittedly,
I have confined myself chiefly to the human dispositions for the
movement of divine grace in the work of the election, but it is a
safe presumption that grace will normally work through these same
controlling Ideas of self-interest and self-dedication.
Fr. Peters, therefore, has in my opinion likewise been guilty of a
"mistake" in his interpretation of the Exercises. This mistake has
been to judge the Exercises too much in terms of the spirituality of
St. Ignatius as their author. At the beginning of his book, Fr. Peters
recalls that Ignatius was a great mystic.'3 Hence he interprets the
Exercises primarily as a school of prayer, designed to lead the exercitant, where possible, to a simplified affective prayer of contemplation.74 This interpretation of the Exercises is of course quite
legitimate and indeed fruifr"ul for the understanding of those details
in the text, which reflect more directly the personal experience of St.
Ignatius himself. But, as I mentioned already in dealing with the
Christological interpretation of Fr. Rahner, the Exercises should be
interpreted first and foremost not speculatively, but pragmatically,
i.e., in terms of the anticipated effect on the individual exercitant.
Here I maintain that St. Ignatius, better than Fr. Peters, saw the
real need for an election in the retreat in order to crystallize the
Peters, pp. 1-9.
Peters, p. 170 ff, where Fr. Peters discusses the "Methods of Prayer" for
use in daily life.
73
14
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exercitant's response to the movement of grace. The Exercises, as
conceived by Ignatius, are therefore much more than a school of
prayer. They are best understood as a blueprint for future action,
intended to change decisively the personal and social life of the
exercitant through a restructuring of his habitual motivation. This
pragmatic orientation to activity has been, in my opinion, the chief
reason for the effectiveness of the Ignatian Exercises through four
centuries of use.
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educational deja
LOWRIE
vtl
J. DALY, S.J.
in the midst of the Great Depression to
be exact, a formidable report was issued by a team of American
Jesuit educators in response to a letter from Father General Ledochowski about the general situation of Jesuit American secondary
and higher education. Issued in 1931-32 the full title of the report
was: Report of the Commission on Higher Studies of the American
Assistancy of the Society of Jesus. Its 234 mimeographed pages of
type-script may have proved too heavy a diet at the time, but whatever the cause this interesting report has quietly slipped into oblivion as far as the average present-day Jesuit is concerned. Have
you ever seen it, let alone read it?
The members of the Co~ission were as follows: for the Province
of California and Oregon, Ch-arles F. Carrol, Prefect of Studies and
Regent of the School of Law at the University of San Francisco;
for the Province of Maryland-New York, Charles J. Deane, Dean of
the College and of the University at Fordham; for the Province of
Chicago, Albert C. Fox, Dean of the College at John Carroll University; for the Province of New Orleans, John W. Hynes, President
of Loyola University; for the Province of New England, Edward P.
Tivnan, Province Procurator; for the Province of Missouri and
Chairman of the Commission, James B. Macelwane, Dean of the
Graduate School of Saint Louis University. The person chiefly responsible for the report is named by the Commission itself: "In reALMOST FORTY YEARS AGO,
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spectfully submitting this final report, the Commission desires to
pay sincere and deserved tribute to its Chairman, Rev. James
B. Macelwane, S.J., to whose zeal and ceaseless labor, whatever
success achieved may be largely attributed" ( p. 7). This commission
began its work with a series of meetings in Philadelphia in
June of 1931, and then at intervals of two or three months additional
meetings were held in Saint Louis, New Orleans, San Francisco
and Santa Clara, Boston and lastly in Chicago. Between meetings
the members of the Commission gathered additional data in their
own provinces. The minutes of each meeting were sent directly to
the General who continued to encourage the commission. At the
final meeting in Chicago, lasting about a month, the various results
of previous meetings were restudied and formulated into a report.
The report, let it be stated from the outset, is quite frank and
must have been startling to some; it may still be today. As the
members stated in their Introduction
. . . Our virtues and our vices have been frankly and fearlessly indicated.
Where weakness was found, we have tried to suggest the remedy, keeping
always in mind His Paternity's admonition that the solution of our problem
must be in conformity with the Constituto Apostolica "Deus Scientiarum
Dominus," the statutes of the Society, and the general and local educational
requirements in force in the United States" ( p. 7).
The purpose of the report has been summarized under four general headings: ( 1) to secure united purpose and concentrated
action in our educational work; ( 2) to evaluate our institutions in
comparison with secular colleges and universities; ( 3) to study
national or regional accrediting agencies; ( 4) to suggest a plan
whereby present and future teachers can secure the necessary
academic degrees.
United purpose
Part I of the report ( pp. 8-32) is subdivided into eight sections
treating of such subjects as the regional variations of our institutions, what points we can all agree on, what we must keep, how far
the Ratio Studiorum binds us (Sections 3, 4, 5), how we can best
pool our efforts, how far we can achieve a fixed program, and what
should be the common characteristics of Jesuit education in our
country. Obviously these topics are just as important now as forty
years ago, and the various discussions and suggestions which were
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then raised should help us today. The gist of the decisions is
summed up in a "Summary of Recommendations, Part I" ( pp. 181192). Here it is strongly suggested that there be "organized at once
a really functioning interprovince organization." Each province is
to have two Standing Committees on Studies, one for high school
and the other for the colleges and universities, each committee consisting "of three well chosen men." There would be two General
Prefects of Studies corresponding to this division, and a National
Executive Committee meeting at least once a year and reporting
directly both to the General and to the Provincials. Probably the
key words in all this are those at the beginning: "at once a really
functioning interprovince organization." I think the average academically-oriented Jesuit is still waiting for such an organization,
but more of this later.
There are some things mentioned in the Part I that are not contained in the summary of recommendations and which are quite
important today. Under "Other \Vays of Pooling our Interests" suggestions are made for stronger Graduate schools, exchange professors, and financial cooperation. As members of an international organization with the history it has, we Jesuits have certainly not
exploited some of these possibilities, exchange professorships, for
example.
Section two lists the points of agreement between Jesuit institutions and can be summarized as follows: agreement in objective
(education for the whole man and with a definite philosophy of
life), religion (no real equcation without religion), philosophy
(right principles and corr~ct thinking are vital to true education
and therefore Scholastic Philosophy is an integral part of every
Jesuit educational program), thoroughness, personal contact with
all by advice and guidance as well as by teaching and example,
training in leadership (by leaders are meant "men preeminent in
their professional lives and exemplary in character, whose intellectual vigor will command attention and admiration and whose wisdom, prudence and sincerity will place them at the head of every
important activity") ( p. 12). Today perhaps some of us would regard this ideal as beyond our capabilities, i.e., the remarks on
leadership, or we might disagree with the preponderance given to
Scholastic Philosophy, although in the latter point the dispute could
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turn on what part of Scholastic Philosophy is given maximum attention rather than about the assumption as a general principles. At
any rate this section merits close attention not only from a historical
point of view, illuminating as it does Jesuit educational viewpoints
at a given period in American culture, but also as a help in solving
our problems at the present crisis of Jesuit education.
Sections three, four, and five have to do with the application of
the Ratio Studiorum in its spirit or its letter. These sections may
seem to have little relevance to the educational situation of today,
but the following sentences are surely well worth pondering:
First among these [essential principles of education] is the fact that in our
educational work we are laying the foundation upon which each student is
expected to be able to build a life dedicated to the service of God. Hence this
foundation should be deeply and solidly laid in truth. This will be brought
about by continually emphasizing the triple essential relationship embracing
man's utter dependency upon God his Creator, his duty to respect the rights
of his fellow men and his own personal responsibility as a rational creature ...
(p. 12).
It is perhaps the lack of knowledge of or emphasis upon such a
view of our educational work which has led to its condemnation
either openly or covertly by too many of our younger Jesuits.
Section six which is devoted to the means of "pooling our interests, offering one another helpful cooperation, supplementing and
supplying one another's needs and deficiencies" ( p. 19). The bulk
of this section is devoted to the strong recommendation of a "really
functioning inter-province organization" which should be established immediately to replace the present nominal association approved several years ago by the Fathers Provincial ( p. 20). There
follows a description of a National Executive Committee composed
of as many members as there are provinces, of their characteristics,
of a permanent Executive Secretary of such a central bureau. Then
follow some additional cogent reasons for the need of such a Jesuit
Association, which are so frank that they may explain why this report has not been much emphasized. Their enumeration now will
probably do no good. But I think there is surely one question that
we can all ask today: have we Jesuit teachers and scholars such an
organization? I personally do not hesitate to say an unqualified "no."
The JEA may or may not adequately represent the needs and
opinions of Jesuit educational administrators, but it certainly does
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not adequately mirror the needs and opinions of the ordinary Jesuit
teachers, professors and writers especially in the universities. This
is a fact which it seems to me has been overlooked far too long.
If the JEA is to be such an organization then it needs to be very
heavily integrated with Jesuits of academic background and the
sooner the better. There is an increasing and inherently very dangerous (because disunity is always weakening to any organization)
tendency to a disastrous separation between Jesuit faculty and
Jesuit administration. This tendency is growing. JEA could become
a great force for unification for all those engaged in the apostolate
of education, which still is, "nobody can deny," by far the most
popular, the most extensive, (and I would add) the most important
apostolate of the American Assistancy.
- Jn the other means suggested for "pooling our interests," strong
graduate schools are emphasized.
While all of them must maintain the recognized standards in faculty, courses,
equipment, library, etc. each of them should be helped by all the others to
attain to real preeminence in some special field or fields, for which by reason of
its location or other advantages it is particularly suited. This demands close
cooperation not only among institutions, but among the provinces as well
(p. 28).
The dog-eat-dog attitude which has too often and too long characterized the relationships of Jesuit universities and colleges with
one another, has created for us many departments which are competing with each other in a fashion that is not only expensive but
so mutually-weakening that it has ultimately reduced the competitors to a uniform mediocr!_t)'-if not inferiority. Budgetary considerations may finally force upon us a cooperation which "mutual
charity" has been unable to bring about!
Section eight, dealing with common characteristics of Jesuit education, ends with a sentence that has a very modern ring about it.
"There should be a common endeavor to overcome the apathy and
indifference so frequently met with in our graduates who seem content with being led by others instead of taking the initiative toward
the solution of social problems" ( p. 32).
Weaknesses and strengths
Part II of the report ( pp. 33-92) is in some ways the most interesting division because it frankly discusses so many of the weaknesses
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and strengths of the Jesuit college or university. There are some
twenty-five different sections, some of them quite brief but all of
them thought-provoking. The summary of recommendations concentrates heavily on the need for better budgets and professional
accounting for the university expenditures as well as on the need
for a better choice of professors and the spelling out of the requirements for graduate degrees. But these recommendations necessarily
omit many of the stimulating statements to be found in the text of
Part II. There are discussions about the need for adequate income,
or about why non-Catholic colleges succeed in some things better
than we do, and where they fail, why they fail and the same inquiry
about our Catholic competitors. There is a frank discussion about
comparative standards for the appointment of ranked faculty in our
schools and others, about objectives in teaching lower and upper
divsion courses, about comparative requirements for the M.A. and
the Ph.D. There are many suggestions here which have a modern
ring not least because some have scarcely been acted upon, although
one can also see what progress has been made in many of our institutions, especially in budgetary matters, by glancing through
these pages.
One item which particularly struck my attention and first got me
interested in this report is the section entitled: "What Library and
other facilities must be available to justify the offering of a graduate course in any subject" ( pp. 69-72). On glancing through these
pages with their comparative statistics on Jesuit library holdings
and those of some secular universities, I was amazed to find almost
exactly the same range of comparisons and type of conclusions
which I myself had reached in a brief report to the Graduate
Faculty of Saint Louis University last year. Here in a report written
in 1932 was evidence of the same glaring deficiencies in Jesuit
library facilities as I had to admit some thirty-five years later. It is
true that some of the university libraries cited in this report are
among the greatest libraries that Western civilization has been able
to gather, while my instances were comparisons with nearby universities with about the same enrollment and problems as Saint
Louis University. Nevertheless our own smug complacency in regard to our weak library resources has been and is a definite factor
contributing to the continuance of such library inadequacy. A
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glance at this part of the report will show that it is far from outdated, but it also shows that for almost forty years far too little has
been done to remedy the situation. Too often the early history of
some of our institutions makes clear that our European Jesuit
founders and early faculty often had a far higher appreciation of
the need for adequate library resources than we do today. The example of Fr. DeSmet purchasing the old Augustinian Library in
Europe for Saint Louis University at the same time as he was seeking Indian missionaries for the \Vest is a case in point.
Part III ( pp. 93-110) of the Report is probably the least relevant
at present because in many instances something has been done to
follow out the recommendations of the report. Part III deals with
the ·accrediting agencies, their type, requirements and our relationships with them. The summary lists only the following recommendation: "That every Jesuit institution of higher education obtain
membership in all of the respective accrediting associations, regional
and national for each of its schools and colleges" ( p. 186). It was a
large order in 1932, but this is one area where evidently the report
had successful repercussions as can be seen by glancing through
the various catalogs of our institutions with the recognitions by
educational associations there listed.
Degrees
Part IV of the report ( pp. 112-180) is not only lengthy, but in
many ways it is the most interesting part. It is entitled: "Academic
Degrees and Educational Training" and has five sections. The first
proposes the following que.:;i:ion: "What are the reasons why as
many as possible of our teachers should be equipped with those
higher degrees which will make their school work better recognized
and more effective, particularly the degree of Doctor of Philosophy?" The first recommendation (p. 187) states: "That the doctorate in some particular field be regarded as the academic goal of all
in the same sense as the profession is the ecclesiastical goal." The
catalog of reasons why this emphasis upon the attainment of a
Ph.D. is valid occupies pp. 112-115 and is well worth reading. The
last reason given ( p. 115) might startle some today: "The marked
growth in individual scholarship, resulting from this policy [making
, the doctorate our normal goal] will react favorably upon the Spiritual life of Ours, for the reason that it will remove the indifference,
360
�FORTY YEARS
discouragement and lack of interest which now affect many of Ours
so adversely both intellectually and spiritually." Shades of 1969!
Section two, the longest section of the report ( pp. 115-152) is
entitled with the question: "How can the ordinary studies of the
Society from the Juniorate to the end of theology be given their due
value for the obtaining of such degrees without detriment to the
classical, philosophical and theological formation that is required
by the Church and the Society." Hardly an out-dated question. The
commission then goes through all the stages of the Jesuit training
as it was then conceived and proposes various remedies and changes
to make it possible for the young Jesuit to reach this academic goal.
A key to the thinking of the commission is the suggestion that two
types of Juniorates be envisioned: one for those entering with only
high school preparation and the other, situated near some Jesuit
university, for those with some college preparation. The twentyseven recommendations ( pp. 187-192) show the vision of the commission; for instance, "that the successful completion of two years
of college work be the normal academic entrance requirement of
the Society" (No. 2, p. 187, Italics added), or this: "That the curriculum of each Scholastic be arranged individually in accordance
with his previous college record, his talent, and the specialty to
which he is to be devoted," and that "this specialty be determined
by a comprehensive examination at the end of the lower division
college studies" No. 3, 1 and 2, p. 187). No. 9 recommends "that
those Scholastics who are to go on to the doctorate in any subject
be assigned during their regency either as assistants to high school
or college teachers in their own field or as teaching fellows in the
universities; and that they be supplied during that time with the
necessary books, journals, supervision and encouragement to continue their studies for the doctorate." No. 10 has a modern ring
and one which was unfortunately too often disregarded: "That all
Scholasticates, including Juniorates, Philosophates, and Theologates,
be located within easy reach of our recognized universities and in
intimate association with them as integral parts, thus sharing their
library and other facilities, which must be available to every advanced student, in order that all the degrees granted to our Scholastics may be accorded that unqualified esteem and recognition
which the educators of the country give to the degrees of the fore-
361
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
~
most institutions." Here is another: "That our Jesuit teachers be
trained not only in a special subject, but for a specific position in a
particular institution" and "that this assignment be made at the beginning of graduate student study for the doctorate, so that the institution for which the man is destined may supervise his training,
and that this assignment once made be not changed except for
grave reasons" (pp. 189-190). It is also recommended "that the institution which may thus normally hope to have the services of the
man bear the financial responsibilities for his training."
For each of these recommendations and the many others made
for this section there are interesting discussions and suggestions in
the respective section ( pp. 115-152), which are well worth the
careful reading of all of us. The following sections of the report
( 3-5.) deal with the implementation of this program. Once again
they contain some very frank discussions and suggestions, some of
which have indeed been brought to realization, but many others
seem so modem to us because they are as yet unfulfilled.
Perhaps this essay may appear to be too negative and so it should
be added that a close perusal of the report and a comparison with
each one's personal experience in the present Society will show that
much progress has indeed been made in certain areas, particularly
it seems to me in the training of professional educational administrators, and in an undoubted increase of Jesuits with the Ph.D. on
our facilities; yet there are also many areas of which the report
treats and gives stimulating suggestions where the 1969 situation
looks quite like the 1931 one~ We are living forty years after the
Report; one hopes that is is no_t forty years too late.
362
�NEW POEMS BY BERRIGAN
EDWARD
V. DESANTIS,
S.J.
False Gods, Real Men: New Poems. By Daniel Berrigan, S.].
Macmillan. $4.95
THERE IS AN EASE and objectivity in discussing the current exploits
of Daniel Berrigan, S.J., from the safe distance of a Jesuit cocktail
party or the pages of Look magazine. From such a position the
speaker, writer, reader, or listener, be he unwavering hard-line
"obedient" Jesuit or carefree liberal "Christian," can ride the crest
of his own ideological wave, high above the turbulence below, the
wild waters that suck one into the general chaos and blood-letting
experiences of life. These are the people, his admirers and opponents, Jesuits, teachers, would-be radicals, professional critics, columnists, camp-followers, who have developed a mythology of
Daniel Berrigan. To many of them he is a unique news item, a
controversial figure, who satisfies the quest of gossips and idlers,
like the olive that completes the martini. To others he is the tribal
sachem of the new breed, or the exotic. juggernaut, claiming his devoted martyrs for the peace movement or civil rights. Few, if any,
of these people, know Daniel Berrigan as a man who is tirelessly
trying to identify himself with the paradoxical and demanding imperatives of the Gospel.
It is in and through the Gospel that Daniel Berrigan continually
discovers for himself the center of his life. For him the Gospel becomes the only context in which life can be truthfully judged. And
conversely, the whole sweep and contour of human life is the only
363
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
condition of evangelical existence. The catchy title of his most recent book, his eleventh, False Gods, Real Men, gives the lie to the
self-satisfying claim of the "saved" to the possession of the Gospel.
The Word of God comes to man as a force that uproots and dislocates at the juncture where culture and all its stock responses
to human experience, can be mistaken for true faith. The word
"Gospel" itself contains a built-in paradox. It is "good" only to those
who have undergone a death into real manhood. It is "news" only
to those who sit in prison and wait for release and freedom. Intellectualizing the Gospel is only the beginning of the process of
evangelization. Knowing the Gospel is to become the Gospel: literally, to suffer the 'Nord of God to pass through us, thus transforming
into it. The irony of hearing the Word of God is staggering:
those who hear it are most in need of it. Assent without descent is
self-destructive to faith: it is holding off on the truth; saying "yes,"
but writing "no"; giving with one hand, but taking back with the
other; listening but not attending to; acknowledging and admitting
the truth without directing one's mind and energies toward its completion; being a "false god," a mockup of the truth, a bogus presence
of the Incarnation, but not to "real man."
us
~
Family
In the opening lines of this collection of poems Daniel Berrigan
records his family's political and religious status.
Our family moved in 25 y¢ars from Acceptable Ethnic
through Ideal American- -( 4 sons at war Africa Italy the Bulge Germany)
and Ideal Catholic
( 2 sons priests uncle priest aunt nun cousins
great-uncle etc. etc.)
But now; 2 priests in and out of jail, spasms, evictions,
confrontations
We haven't made a nickel on the newest war
probably never again
will think, proper
with pride; a soldier! a priest! we've made it now!
What it all means is-what remains.
364
�BERRIGAN
The authentic Gospel is not easily digested by delicate stomachs.
"Ideal Catholic" has little, if anything, to do with the Pauline prison
formula of life through death. "Ideal American" and "Ideal Catholic" represent the turning of one's back on the present and future:
judging the present by what was successful in the past and hoping
that the future won't intrude enough to topple and rearrange the
past. The Gospel, with its tributaries of truth that reach and alter
every quarter of human life, is ruthless in its discarding of what is
dead, causing life to emerge in the most unlikely place and at the
most unlikely time, often embarrassing to believers!
I should like to know please
the name of that girl
lauded in some obscure comer
of the press
dead in Paris
buried in Pere Lachaise cemetery,
dedicated it was said, to the common
life of man
an American girl
solicitous for the sick
succoring outcasts
showing the city of light
an unaccustomed incandescence.
Why then the question?
except that her bones
make
so small a sound
in the noiseless sockets
of history
except that the dead
press
upon us
and learn! learn! is the law
whereby we stand
and they
cut free.
365
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
The poem, "The Wedding," is a striking example of how the
Gospel can be savage in its insistence that the world in all its
anguish, "acrid, disastrous," must be taken whole. Human love is
really a way of wedding oneself to the 'vorld. The married couple
must swallow
the sour air, the clangor, the revolting
loveless, heartless, unjust mass,
weights pressing the heart into weird misshape,
the imponderable brutal load that makes
brutes of us all; neutral minds,
stocks and stones; rapacious ominous law
nine points of dispossession, faces
·,beaten under night sticks.
Marriage is also a "yes," a vow to assume the world as a man's
flesh, and a woman's.
Don't speak of love until everything is
lost; antagonism, agony!
no vow, no faith, the wedding bread
spoiled, scattered like chaff; the bride
a whoring reusant.
0 who will make
amends, my love?
I climbed up
step after iron step, inferno
into your eyes. I have maqied
sight of your face, that took
all this and me beside
for groom, for the bride's
evil and good, sickness and hope and health.
Yes.
I have learned from you
YES
when
no
unmans me like a knife, turns
like an evil lock, the incarnate bridal door.
366
�I
BERRIGAN
As a man is wedded to a woman, so a priest is to his priesthood,
a religious person to his order. The analogy is not to be taken in its
traditional, and, often misleading sense. Being a priest or a religious
is another entrance into the world. The world, in this Johannine
sense, is a prison, a sign of death, to which the religious man, the
man of God, is to bring the Gospel of hope and salvation. How
ironic to :6nd priests and religious who have not the desire to be
wedded to this death! Who have allowed themselves to be imprisoned by their very service, who have fallen slaves to the law!
Daniel Berrigan makes numerous references in his poems to priests,
once symbols of the paschal death that the Gospel summons men
to, but who have become statued images in a mausoleum. The
priest is sick and needs healing. Daniel Berrigan is himself undergoing the present sorrow of the priest, a rough diamond still to be
worked over by history and the Spirit.
Bronze celibates
thread space like spiders. Hands
inoffensive as lizard's
wave effete farewell
to arms, to full-blooded
speech, to country matters.
I saw a priest once
mired in his people's lives
hunching a hundred-pound sack
up four flights of stairs
pulling for breath on the top landing.
What then is health?
I must pour
hell's black humors in the dawn cup
transubstantiate their vileness in that blood
hate cannot sour, envy
thin to a whey.
say I am sick
implore come heal me.
367
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
Priest and prison
In his poem, "To the Prisoners," inspired by the harsh realism of
the frescoes of Diego Rivera in Mexico's Palacio Naccional, Berrigan combines the themes of the sicklist priesthood and the prison
experience.
Behold, the iron on the other necks now!
the cleric's collar, like a spiked mastiff
warns; keep off
color, music, sexual sweetness, spontaneity
passionate use of the world!
a black overall
begins at wrists and ankles
"like sacking on the dolls
~··that in my childhood, began to be true
at neck, hands and feet; all between
homunculus of straw, alas!
vVhen they had locked the prisoners' irons
(the guide book says)
the executioners came forward
a line of purposeful apes
platonic, implacable ...
it is our history.
By the ocean I recently watched his carefree limbs, trousers
rolled up, kick sand into the teeth of the waves. In the morning and
late in the night he sought this rendezvous with the mysterious wild
sea. Marianne Moore, Berrigan's good friend, in one of her poems
writes about
Man looking into the sea,
taking tl1e view from those who have as much
right to it as you
have it to yourself,
it is human nature to stand in the middle of a thing,
but you cannot stand in the middle of this;
the sea has nothing to give but a well excavated grave.
368
�BERRIGAN
Berrigan, unlike the man in Miss Moore's poem, came to the sea
to imperate joy
like a child
along a shore, in places above the sea.
On these occasions he seemed to be storing up memories of freedom
and ecstasy, like some animal gathering its food for the long underground winter ahead. For him prison is the only kind of vessel that
will traverse the waves. And by some secret certainty he kept on
talking about the "analogy of prison" as if it were some strange
alchemy that would reveal deeper and richer springs of life. One
truly gets the sense that he has taken his life into his own hands,
willing to make an account of it at any moment. If one isn't used to
him, it is easy to misrepresent his actions as judgmental of others.
On the contrary, what he is doing is affirming life at every tum.
And it is we ourselves who are then forced to measure the spectre
of our life against one so willing to risk all for the Gospel as it
addresses itself to him.
There are many Jesuits who have mistaken Berrigan's actions as
a gradual separation from the order he has been a member of for
twenty years. On closer inspection, however, he is in his own way
directing his attention to salvaging what is viable, what has a future,
in the Society of Jesus. He continually chooses to live as a Jesuit
so long as the order does not slam the door shut on the real human
challenges that are shaking and shaping her from within. He loyally
identifies himself with those who find the life-giving priorities, risky
and volatile though they may be, too precious and promising to be
jettisoned in favor of adherence to what may have become a system
slowly grinding itself to a halt. To the Jesuits he writes:
you have surpassed your myths
you are
all intellectual patience
you have seen
vanity and seasons
drown drown in their witches'
trial by water
369
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
your august temper
moves in the world
austere uncozening
I know myself only
in you.
Yes I wed you conscience reason.
Cornell
For all practical purposes Berrigan does not any longer live in
what we have conventionally known as a Jesuit community. Two
years ago he left the now defunct Jesuit Missions on Manhattan's
East Side and found a new home, which he says has been his happiest, on the campus of Cornell University. Here his small singlerqpm dwelling has become a coveted haunt for faculty and students,
wli'o enjoy sitting on the floor and sharing one of his homecooked
meals. Many, those in disagreement included, have found him a
gentle and long-suffering man, set in sharp contrast against the
background of rivalry, pretension, wealth, ambition and sinister
complacency that have infected so many university campuses. Some
have followed him to jail, not simply because of his eloquence and
persuasion, but largely because there flows from him a serene
strength and a sense of compassionate understanding that makes
no human situation too difficult or too demanding. In moments of
anger and disgust with the systems and the men who have taken
possession of the lives and destinies of their fellow men, rather than
abuse or malign, he quietly evokes a kind of grim humor, such as
is found in "Seminar."
One speaker
an impeccable
Californian
impelled to explain
The Chinese Belong in China
The Russians in Russia.
we howevermessiah, oversoul
a pink muscled clear-eyed
'
Texan dream
fumigating
370
�I
BERRIGAN
Hanoi privies
from abovenapalm iigger bombs gas
God's saniflush, in sumThe gentleman was
four square as State
or the pentateuch;
sans beard, rope sandals, foul talk, pota fire extinguisher
on Pentecost day;
exuding good will
like a mortician's convention
in a plague year.
Indeed yes.
There is nothing sick
(the corpse said)
about death.
Come in.
Though Berrigan has broken through the Jesuit ranks and found
a home elsewhere, one detects that there lurks in his heart a secret
love for his brother Jesuits. So often in our recent conversations
and walks with him he let slip some noticeable reminder to us of
his great joy in being in our company.
0 will you take me
whose health is sickness
whose rich is poor
whose better worse?
Daniel Berrigan is a man who knows comfort and security only
as a future possibility. To be a friend of his is a hard choice. It is
not a memory or a relationship that is restored with a few words
or an embrace. It is a journey "into the land of unknowing"-but
in the direction of our real home. To know him intimately is to
realize that salvation demands the bitter pill, the blood-letting,
letting go of certainties and false identities, to risk all in faith.
Living with him, if for only a short time, is bracing oneself to make
an act of faith, a lover's leap.
371
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
If I were Pablo Neruda
or William Blake
I could bear, and be eloquent
an American name in the world
where men perish
in our two murderous hands
Alas Berrigan
you must open those hands
and see, stigmatized in their palms
the broken faces
you yearn toward
you cannot offer
being powerless as a woman
·, under the rain of fire- .. life, the cover of your body.
only the innocent die.
Take up, take up
the bloody map of the century.
The long trek homeward begins
into the land of unknowing.
An echo in us
The danger with a review of this sort is that it might easily trap
one into thinking that fitting tribute has been paid to a Jesuit priest
by the name of Berrigan. Somehow we can feel comforted that
some part of the breach has been closed; a radical priest has been
saluted by US. We have dq_ne our share. Let him be satisfied with
this. Let no one say that Berrigan is not appreciated by his order!
The irony, however, is that the only response from him is from the
echo-chambers of our own minds. A man who shares in the gift of
prophetic utterance in the Church is beyond us. At best this review
is a kind of intramural exercise, for, as a man, Daniel Berrigan has
seen things that even the language of his poetry, which is ours, can
but at best approximate. W. B. Yeats, long one of Berrigan's masters,
writing about a poet of another generation, has left an elegant
statement about so fine a student:
A poet is by the very nature of things a man who lives with entire sincerity
... His life is an experiment in living and those that come after have a right
372
�BERRIGAN
to know it. Above all it is necessary that the lyric poet's life should be known
that we should understand that his poetry is no rootless flower but the speech
of a man, (that is no little thing) to achieve anything in any art, and to stand
alone perhaps for many years, to go a path no other man has gone, to accept
one's own thoughts when the thoughts of others have the authority of the world
behind them, ... to give one's soul as well as one's words which are so much
nearer to one's soul than the criticism of the world ... Why should we honor
those that die upon the field of battle, a man may show as reckless a courage
in entering into the abyss of himself.
373
��WOODSTOCK
LETTERS
FALL
VoLUME
1969
98
NuMBER
4
�INTRODUCTION
On June 11, 1969, the last Jesuit students left Loyola College and
Seminary, Shrub Oak, New York, to take up residence on College
campuses at Fordham and elsewhere. Opened in 1955, Loyola
Seminary now only echoes the hundreds of student voices that once
rang there. Spiritual Father at Shrub Oak, Frederic M. O'Connor
spoke privately and publicly to the community of faculty and
philosophers there from its first year to its last. \Ve print here two of
his ~onferences, given in 1961; both as a tribute to his decade and
more of leadership at Loyola Seminary, and as a remembrance of
the ··ideal of community Jesuits and Jesuit benefactors hoped to
establish there.
\Ve also print in this issue three historical articles: by Patrick
Ryan, S.J., a doctoral student in Comparative Religion at Harvard
University, who has previously and elegantly written for \VooDSTOCK
LETTERS; by Denis Dirscherl, S.J., a doctoral candidate in Russian
Studies at Georgetown University; and by Sr. M. Lilliana Owens, a
Sister of Loretto from St. Louis, who is actively engaged in researching the history of her own congregation.
Also from St. Louis, and both students in the divinity school there,
Mark Voss, S.J., and Michael Sheeran, S.J., contribute research work
on the Constitutions and Exercises towards a better understanding
of the role of the superior a~cr" change in the Society.
Thanks to Henry H. Regnet, S.J., the youngest survivor of the
Buffalo Mission, we print here a composite memoir of the Mission's
centenary celebration on July 13, 1969.
Owing to the relocation of Woodstock College from Woodstock,
Maryland, to New York City, \VooDSTOCK LETTERS must, with this
issue, suspend publication for the year 1969-1970. The Business
Manager is already at work to refund those subscriptions already
paid for that period.
G.C.R.
�CONTENTS
FALL, 1969
INTRODUCTION
Frederic M. O'Connor, S.].
381
ON COMMUNITY LIFE •
393
AN EARLY APPROACH TO UNDERSTANDING INDIAN RELIGIOUSNESS • Patrick ]. Ryan, S.].
409
THE SUPERIOR'S ROLE WITHIN OBEDIENCE •
Mark R. Voss, S.].
Sr. M. Lilliana Owens, S.L.
425
SIMON FOUCHE, S.J. •
435
THE JESUITS UNDER THE CZARS •
446
DISCERNMENT AS A POLITICAL PROBLEM . •
Michael Sheeran, S .].
465
THE BUFFALO !\fiSSION: 1869-1969
Denis Dirscherl, S.].
�FOR CONTRIBUTORS
WOODSTOCK LETTERS solicits manuscripts from all Jesuits on all topics
of particular interest to fellow Jesuits: Ignatian spirituality, the activities of
our various apostolates, problems facing the modem Society, and the history
of the Society, particularly in the United States and its missions. In general
it is our policy to publish major obituary articles on men whose work would
be of interest to the whole assistancy.
'
~etters
of comment and criticism will be welcomed for the Readers' Forum.
Manuscripts, preferably the original copy, should be double-spaced with
ample margins. 'Vhenever possible, contributors of articles on Ignatian spirituality and Jesuit history should follow the stylistic norms of the Institute
of Jesuit Sources. These are most conveniently found in Supplementary Notes
B and C and in the list of abbreviations in Joseph de Guibert, S.J., The jesuits:
Their Spiritual Doctrine and Practice, trans. W. J. Young (Chicago, 1964 ),
pp. 609-16.
STAFF
Published by the students of Woodstock College. Editor: Edward J.
Mally, S.J. I Managing Editor: Gerard C. Reedy, S.J. I Copy
Editor: Richard R. Galligan: S.J. I Associate Editors: Richard A.
Blake, S.J., Alfred E. Caruana, S.J., J. Peter Conroy, S.J., James F.
Donnelly, S.J., Paul L. Horgan, S.J., Joseph J. Papaj, S.J., Joseph
F. Roccasalvo, S.J., Patrick H. Samway, S.J., Thomas H. Stahel,
S.J. I Business Manager: Alfred E. Caruana, S.J.
�ON COMMUNITY LIFE
man needs man
FREDERIC
M.
O'CONNOR,
S.J.
ATMOSPHERE OF COMMUNITY
17 March 1961
"I give thanks to God, that he is always exhibiting us as the captives in
the triumph of Christ Jesus, and through us spreading abroad everywhere
like a perfume, the knowledge of himself. For we are the good odor of
Christ unto God."
is deeply aware of community. He freely admits that
he needs other men.
But no one of mature judgment long reflects upon his need for
others without soon discovering that communion among men does
not thrive in every chance environment. Community, to be genuine
and enduring, requires a favorable atmosphere: a clear air, a warming sun, a touch of spring.
Such an atmosphere of community may escape precise dennition;
yet men instinctively recognize its presence and detect its absence.
No one watching Sartre's "No Exit" needs more than a glimpse of
the faces and a few snatches of the dialogue to perceive that love
could never be among that abandoned trio. Pediatricians tell us that
infants are so sensitive to acceptance that they can sense its absence
as soon as a pair of hostile hands picks them up.
MoDERN l\IAN
381
�WOODSTOCK LETTElt.S
But the presence of community is just as keenly felt. No philosopher at Port Kent last villa could have failed to benefit from the glow
and welcome reflected from every face. More recently, I am sure,
the cast and audience at our production of "The Tempest" hated to
see the play come to an end, for a common endeavor, successfully
carried out, has a stealthy way of drawing men together. Perhaps
this same presence of communion explains the hidden charm of
those haunting phrases of St. John: "Before the festival day of the
pasch Jesus knowing that his hour was come, that he should pass
out of this world to the Father, having loved his own who were in
the world, he loved them unto the end."
An atmosphere of community, then, is as simple as sunlight. When
it is present, it can't be missed; when it is absent, there is no substitute.
Four strong lines
If I were asked to describe an atmosphere of community in religious life, I should demand that it show itself along four strong
lines.
( 1) There must be such a sense of trust and understanding that a
man can feel himself at one with other men. \Vith superiors,
first of all, so that a visit to a superior's room is marked by
ease, manliness, and integrity. I mean an assurance that one
has been oneself where most he wants to be his candid self.
\Vith his brothers, so that a meeting with them is a moment
of spontaneous gratitude that he is privileged to live with
such men.
~-·
( 2) There must be such a tone about the house that a man is
subconsciously drawn to imitate Christ poor, Christ chaste,
Christ obedient to his heavenly Father.
( 3) Such a sense of God's presence, registered and reflected in
the walk, talk, and eyes of men around him, that he is
impelled with ease to love his God, to love his image everywhere.
( 4) Finally, such a well-founded realization that his brothers are
p10ud of him, interested in his contribution to God's glory,
that he is encouraged to attempt great things as he labors
in his apostolate.
382
�O'CONNOR
However, the more taxing problem to be answered is to determine
how an atmosphere of community can be created. The question is
delicate because there are false ways as well as solid ones.
It should be clear from the beginning that the solution to this
important problem can be neither too spiritual ·nor too earthly;
neither too heavenly nor too natural. For we are dealing with men,
incarnate spirits in a material universe.
The valid approach certainly is not the facile enlisting of a public
relations agency to enter our religious houses and assess our ills and
pains. Although we might profit a great deal from such a searching
operation, yet the goal we are reaching for is much too lofty to approach merely by tabulated statistics. Natural procedures have their
place, but unity in Christ Jesus can not be counted among the wares
peddled by Madison Avenue or its next door neighbor, Broadway.
Nor can the sing-song repetition of the formula, "Love one another," sacred though its meaning be, prove loud enough to sustain
an atmosphere of trust. ·words alone will never do. For when men
live together upon an earth of clay, they need more than sighs and
sounds to hold their bond together. And so, in the course of time,
men have come to invent symbols and art, language and literature;
for love itself must be creative and human relationships cannot long
endure unless there is presented an experience to share, a challenge
to mold. Even the sacred state of matrimony may be in jeopardy
until a child arrives to divert easily sated eyes.
In religious life, therefore, a genuine and enduring atmosphere of
community will be found only when due consideration is extended
to the full human situation in which the dedicated man finds himself.
It is generally accepted dogma that, this side of the general resurrection, every man lives in a given situation. He is located in space,
limited by time. As long as he dwells on earth, he must occupy a
definite role, live out a particular status. If he lives in one country,
he thereby becomes a foreigner to a hundred others. If he is a
doctor, he cancels out a whole list of other professions as his life's
work.
Now it is to be noticed that the more important human situations
experienced by men are constituted in their full reality by two main
elements: a basic structure and a deep immersion in time and space.
The basic structure is the less tangible of the two, but still it is :ve'ry
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real and present. It enjoys a certain independence, for upon closer
examination it precedes and antedates the full human situation itself. For example, it is quite evident that the purposes and general
procedures of matrimony are somehow in existence even before the
bride parades up the center aisle. And the recruit for the Marine
Corps will be roughly awakened if he has dreamed he was signing
up for an unstructured career.
More than structure
But a basic structure is not enough. i\'o human situation is lived
in the clouds (at least, we used to be able to say that). Nor is any
valid way of life pie in the sky. Each human situation is incarnated
in a real world, nailed down to earth. A hundred concrete circumstan."ces support each life and a thousand fine details are pulled taut
through every situation. Not every man marries ~Iarilyn :Monroe
nor does every woman land the millionaire she once dreamed of.
Every human situation is rooted in the particular.
The religious life, too, resembles all other human situations: it is
structured, it is particular. Structured, since it is a complexus of
vows and rules, common life and approved authority, a set way to
dress and an established goal to strive for. This basic structure
greets the young aspirant at the novitiate door; it will kneel beside
his bed upon his death.
But the religious situation is particular also. For all its values and
validities are rendered visible only by their incarnation in a human
experience. Authority always means a definite superior to be obeyed;
chastity the total response of a tempted or not so tempted man. The
order joined is always one ofmany, formed with a definite spirit, encountered at a precise moment of its history, just so faithful to its
founder's dream but no more. The members, too, the brothers in the
Lord, are definite and numbered. Their names are posted underneath their napkin boxes, their laughs and voices soft or boisterous
in the recreation room, their smiles as personal as their faults. Religious life is not lived in a vacuum nor in some far off Shangri La.
It is stamped deep with the hallmar!< of everything human: it is
particular.
It seems to me, then, that the search for community in religious
life will have to be centered upon these two component parts of any
.' human situation. A serious effort must be made to penetrate deep
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into the very center and core of the religious state itself. Honesty
must be employed, and boldness too. A daring confrontation with
all the implications of the full human situation must be attempted.
Either religious life contains the seeds of its own union and integrity
or it does not. Either it has woven into its very fabric the strength
and resiliency to become truly one or it has not. It is part of a man's
full response to his own vocation to answer this most basic question.
Perhaps the following reflections may help.
Many parts of the basic structure of religious life display a communal face that is not often seen. The individual side of vows and
rules is heavily stressed, but their relation to the many is frequently
neglected. Yet, religious life is presented by the Church so that men
can live together, not endure apart. I cannot help but feel that our
Holy Mother, Christ's Bride, with her usual wisdom and patience,
has somehow forced into the very marrow of religious life a power
to draw men into unity. I am convinced that everything prescribed,
from vows to common board, from rules to prayer and work, holds
at its core a secret hidden power which when released can make the
members one.
Nor would this be too strange. For whenever men live together,
by native instinct even, they invent institutions and tribal rites that
can draw the clan together. Nations fly their flags, set aside holidays
for parade and celebration, compose folksongs and national anthems,
and even stir up foods peculiarly their own. If anyone views such
universal customs with only a passing glance, he may miss the
deeper truth lying within: when men live together, they need to sing
the same songs, execute the same dances, and boast the same dress,
whether it is a shamrock on a lapel or a beret on the head. If they
don't, they will perish as a people. If human nature is so astute in
holding its children together, will the Church, the mystical oneness
of Christ, be denied equal care?
Poverty and prayer
But let us reflect on two definite items. First, the vow of poverty.
This vow is difficult. It cuts deep like a sword. It strikes my independence. I can't do what I want because I can't get my hands on
what I need. I find it truly a burden to follow Christ poor. I am not
surprised. For I am human, too, and all the good things of the earth
are dear to me. I can easily waver in my allegiance to a God-man
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who is poor. But then I see you. You are living out your poverty.
You come from a different background than I, and yet you appear
so genuine in seeking leave for things you would have taken for
granted were you not following Christ poor. You strengthen me. I
see now that it is possible to live with Christ poor. I am not alone.
The prayer of a Jesuit. So much of our prayer is made by ourselves, so little together. But need our Jesuit prayer be so starkly and
privately conceived? Is it not correct to say that we rise together,
kneel upon our priedieus in our morning prayer somehow united
with one another? Doesn't our solitary prayer have a communal
power? Do we not stand at each other's side at Mass, and there
become together the pounded grains of wheat, the gathered drops
of \':_hle with him who came to make all things one?
My· dear brothers in Christ: let me close these reflections on community by relating the bold adventure of another group of men
attempting community. The passage is from the talented pen of Fr.
Broderick. The quotation deals with the weeks following St. Ignatius' ordination in Venice on June 24th, 1537.
"Ignatius and his disciples determined to leave Venice and seek seclusion for 40 days in places where they were not known.
"At Vicenza, they lit upon a house without the city which had neither
- door nor window, and dwelt therein, sleeping on some straw collected by
themselves. Two of them went to beg in the city twice a day, but gained
hardly enough to keep life in them. Their usual food, when they had it,
was a little bread baked by one who stayed at home. They spent forty
days in this fashion, giving them_selves up to prayer and nothing else ...
Finally, they all began to preach/the same hour in the different squares
of the town, first making a great outcry and waving their caps to call the
people around them. Their preaching provoked much talk in the city and
so plenty of food was bestowed on them.
"They began to pray and think what title would best suit them, and
considering that over them they had no head but Jesus Christ, whom alone
they desired to serve, it seemed right that they should adopt the name
of Him Who was their head and that their congregation should be called
the Society of Jesus."
The Society of Jesus-this is the secret of our union. This is the
atmosphere of our community.
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COMMUNITY
20 January 1961
"Behold how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together
in unity."
THis EVE:\'l:NG I should like to talk with you about community. You
have lived in community anywhere from four to forty years. \Vhat
is your opinion of it? \Vhat meaning does it have for you? Let me
start with some experiences of community. The first is a young religious priest, a teacher in a college, intelligent, zealous, sincere. His
views are rigid, his outlook somewhat jansenistic. He finds it difficult
to get along with his fellow religious. They in tum find him distant
and strange. Communication lapses; strained relations become more
taut. One day, the young priest's room is discovered vacant. On the
desk lies a note which reads: "I have had enough. I can't take any
more. Don't try to find me."
A few years ago, a Jesuit priest was dying of cancer. Up till the
very end he was able to live in his room. He was in constant pain,
and as the torture deepened, his nerves became jangled. He could
hardly sit still. He could not bear to be alone. One of the fathers
made a pact with the stricken priest. "\Vhen you need some one,
come to my room. The door is always open." The dying priest accepted and spent hour upon hour, daytime and night, sitting in that
welcome room.
In a large house of studies, a young Jesuit lives with well over a
hundred men, calls them his brothers, works at their side. Yet, they
appear to him as strangers. He sits at table with them and fingers
with delicate touch the cool peripheries of life. He enters the recreation room only to find barriers matching his own defences. He feels
lost. He wants to Ree the recreation period. Yet this is his community. This is his home. These are the brothers Christ has given
him; the men he chooses in preference to all other persons. The
young religious is perplexed. What is community?
Man needs man
No matter how you view community, one constant truth will stand
out: man needs man. \Valk around it, approach it from any angle,
you will always discover: No man stands alone. Did one man ever
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succeed in getting to heaven by himself? To answer such a question,
search for the sinner who has managed to give himself sacramental
absolution. Seek out the man that poured the saving waters upon his
own needful head. No one goes to God by himself, but the supernatural history of every Christian is criss-crossed by a thousand lives.
When you read of some celebrity entering the Church, be mindful
of the conversations of friends, the chance remarks of strangers, the
secret prayers, that paved the way to the sacred font. \Vhen you
yourselves stand at the altar, newly ordained priests, bless in spirit
the countless hands that led you to your day of ordination. No man
stands alone. Every man needs man. For all the blessings of our
faith, all the refinements of culture and civilization, all the modes
of speech and achievements of education, have come to us because
other men have lived. If God came to earth and repeated his question of early Genesis, "\Vhere is thy brother?," modem man could
truly say, "in everything I touch, in everything I am."
But to come to matters more close at hand. \Vhat about us Jesuits? Do we need one another? Our language seems to say yes, for
we have a vocabulary all our own that is rich in expressions of
warmth and charity. Our companions are our brothers, our superior
is our father, our very life together is termed community, and one
word is magic to every Jesuit ear: the Society. In our homes, the
- hearth is called the domestic chapel. \Ve boast of our government
being paternal; and some of the most significant passages in our
Constitutions are those that remind us that the very first persons to
benefit from our zeal and charity are to be the members of our own
order. "Prius excolendi sunt doinestici quam externi" wrote St. Ignatius. There is no doubt about it. \Ve Jesuits need one another on
paper.
But what is the reality like? What do our lives say? On this practical level of community, we Jesuits have little to fear. \Ve are convinced of community. \Ve desire its fulfillment. When intelligent
men become persuaded of a way of life, very little can stand in the
way of accomplishment. The one failure, however, that we Jesuits
are quite capable of sliding into is this: we can lose our sense of
community. Our awareness of others may dim. Our keen consciousness of the communal aspects of our life may become blunted. Now,
.almost every act in Jesuit life has a communal side to it, whether it
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is something as significant as observing the rule or as routine as
taking a shower. A religious does not wear his habit merely for
warmth any more than he combs his hair solely from vanity. But the
actions and usages of religious life, attendance at class, participation
at the holy sacrifice, obedience and poverty, all carry within them
a communal force and influence.
If awareness of community does become dim, we Jesuits can
easily cease to view our brothers as persons and can unconsciously
treat them as things. But our companions are not things; they are
unique persons, special images of the Trinity, gifted with rare talents,
deep feelings, delicate sensibilities and diversified dispositions. They
are not things, and if they are so treated the whole struch1re and
beauty of religious life will cave in.
Yet it is, I believe, this very failure to view our brothers as persons that prompts us, in griping sessions, to speak of superiors as if
they were tower controls and not men in need of graciousness and
Christ-like gratitude. The same loss of awareness also explains how
professors, since they have been decorated with a Ph.D., can be expected to endure any criticism and still bounce back, like a jack-inthe-box, with a masterful class no matter what the co-operation may
be. And surely nothing but a sleeping consciousness of fellow Jesuits
as persons can suggest why students for the priesthood of Christ can
pour into the ears of men vowed to God conversations and innuendos
that weaken communal chastity in a way they shall never know.
Community can never succeed without awareness!
Community, then, is complex and intricate. It cannot be learned
haphazardly. It cannot be viewed casually. Let us together tum our
serious attention to its challenge.
Not proximity
Right off, let me say this: community is not the same as proximity.
For people can sit squeezed in a subway car, absorbed in their Daily
News, and still be worlds apart. Nor does the one roof over a hundred heads assure the retention of warmth among persons. A hotel
can be a mighty cold place. For that matter, black-robed figures can
kneel inches apart at the sacrifice of unity without experiencing one
erg of communal energy. Mere juxtaposition is not enough.
Nor must we be fooled into mistaking camaraderie for true com-
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munity, for this error would be stating that community thrives only
among the compatible, is joyous only in an atmosphere of the pleasant. Tme community is a little more vigorous, I hope, than to be restricted to a diet of fellowship and flowing beer.
Community is often identified with the presentation of common
goals and common means. But even here caution must be exercised,
since a mere aggregation can result from such a pooling of endeavors. Men can work alongside of others, even on a common project, without community being created. Our modem world is filled
with such distant closeness. Look at the tellers and vice-presidents
of a successful banking house. There are cages all around them. A
teacher in our own schools, likewise, can ptusue a common goal with
others-and use common means but all in solitary fashion. His spirit
can b({. exaggerated individualism: "You do your work. Leave me
alone and I'll do mine." His spirit can be withdrawal: "When 3:30
comes, my time is my own." Such a lonely figure will experience no
felt sense that he is engaged with others in the fashioning of a
dream, that these men he works with need him, not merely his presence and his muscles, but his smiles and nods and approval. A common goal and common means, encased in abstract definition, will
never add up to community.
\Ve come, then, to what I judge to be the distinctive and formative
_element in community. Let me call it the sense of sharing, the experience of feeling part of a glorious endeavor. "This is our goal,"
your brothers seem to shout to you. "\Ve are out for it together," you
answer back in joy. A contact has been made, a communication
sparked, a voice has been sounded, a word spoken. Not always audible but tangible and reassuring;- not loud, but present and felt. A
bond has been forged; a communion has been instituted in some
such fashion as this: in the Russian novel, Doctor Zhivago, the hero
has just returned home from the front during World War I to find
Moscow, the city he loved, oppressed by hunger, terror, and despair.
A small welcoming supper has been set up by his family and friends,
at which a chance duck and black-market vodka were served. But
for the doctor, the meal seemed a failure, a kind of betrayal. "You
could not imagine," he reflected, "anyone in the houses across the
street eating or drinking in the same way ... Beyond the windows
lay silent, dark, hungry Moscow. Its shops were empty and as for
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I
the game and vodka, people had even forgotten to think about such
things. And so it turns out that only a life similar to the life of those
around us is genuine life, and an unshared happiness is not happiness at all. For duck and vodka, when they seem to be the only ones
in town, are not even duck and vodka."
What else does sharing mean? It surely includes giving-the giving of our time and our patience, our ideas and talents, our concern
and sympathy. For community can not thrive unless there is an exchange of gifts, an exchange that is large and free from jealousy.
Love everywhere abhors inequality and community cannot close its
eyes to individual needs.
But we all know from experience that to give things is relatively
easy. What hurts is to give one's self. And yet, community demands
that a man share himself, that he somehow give something of himself unto those with whom he lives. As long as religious are full willing to give their possessions but not themselves, there can be no community.
But it is torture to give one's self. By experience, by environment,
man has learned to lock himself behind closed doors, erect defenses
around his inner heart, paint them over with a mask-like self and
present that face to the world as what he is. The walls thrown up
are thick and high. The barriers of fears and doubts are strong and
firm. It is painful to tear them down.
The task
To tear them down, to demolish the defenses, that is the difficulty:
that is the task! For such a demolition cannot be endured without
humility. Such a removal of barriers means a man must trust his
brothers with his life; trust them to accept him as he is, to still be on
his side even when they view his lowliness, to love him even when
they discover his unlovableness. This is the real challenge of religious life and I do not believe it can be answered until the Jesuit
learns to trust the men Christ has given him for brothers.
Let me add one final experience of community written in the form
of a prayer by Fr. Teilhard de Chardin:
My God, I confess that I have long been recalcitrant to the love of my
neighbor ... I find no difficulty in integrating into my inward life everything above me and beneath me in the universe ... But the other man,
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my God, by which I do not mean the poor, the halt, the lame and the
sick, but the other quite simply as other, the one who seems to exist independently of me because his universe seems closed to mine, and who
seems to shatter the unity and the silence of the world for me-would I
be sincere if I did not confess that my instinctive reaction is to rebuff
him? and that the mere thought of entering into spiritual communion with
him disgusts me? Grant, 0 God, that the light cf Your countenance may
shine for me in the life of the other ... Savior of human unity, compel
us to discard our pettiness and to venture forth, resting upon You, into
the uncharted ocean of charity.
-·
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TO UNDERSTANDING
INDIAN RELIGIOUSNESS
Roberto de Nobili as Tridentine Jesuit
PATRICK
J. RYAN, S.J.
IT IS DIFFICULT being a white man today. After nearly five centuries
of European and American political and cultural expansion over the
third world, historical circumstances confront the more sensitive
minds in the West today-admittedly, still the vast minority-with
a sense of guilt. Joseph Conrad, in Lord Jim and "Heart of Darkness" saw, at the tum of the century, some of the horrors perpetrated
by the enlightened \Vest in Asia and Africa. Since then the image of
the guilt-ridden white man who recognizes, albeit impotently, the
harm done by the \Vest in its subjugation of the colonial peoples has
become more frequent in twentieth-century literature and life. It
might even be argued that the rebellious generation born in postHiroshima America feels stained by a new original sin. They can no
longer tmst the prelapsarian optimism of their parents.
There were rare \Vestem figures in earlier centuries who recognized at least some of the ambiguities of Western colonialism. Bartolomeo de las Casas stands out most memorably in his defense of
the New World Indians. Nevertheless, the majority of Christian
missionaries in the non-Christian, non-European world was made
up of champions of both flag and cross.
Although not so clearly recognized as a critic of European colonialism, Roberto de Nobili-an Italian Jesuit in seventeenth century
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India-provides another perspective on the problematic union of
European culture with Christian missionary endeavor. 1 Coming to
India in 1605, Nobili eventually escaped the Portuguese atmosphere
of Goa, Cochin and the Fishery Coast and arrived in Madurai in
1606. There he was an assistant to an elderly Portuguese Jesuit,
Gon<;alo Fernandez, whose evangelical activities in this princely city
of southern India had been thus far fruitless. \Vithin a few months
Nobili began to grow uncomfortable with the complete identification of conversion to Christian faith with conversion to Portuguese
or parangi caste status. His study of Tamil language and thought
brought Nobili to some startling conclusions about the then accepted
practice of asking prospective converts: "Do you wish to enter the
religion of the parangis?"2 It would be inaccurate to call Nobili's
reftction an anti-colonialist one in our modern sense. He was even a
mila defender of the Portuguese nobility as opposed to the run-ofthe-mill Portuguese colonial types. 3 But he did recognize a distinction behveen faith in Christ and the adoption of European culture.
In 1607 Nobili began an experiment which was to last for the
forty-nine years of life remaining to him. Shedding the black soutane
and leather shoes of the European Jesuit, Nobili began to live and to
dress like an Indian sannyiisi (professional ascetic). Meanwhile he
dedicated all his energies to the study of Tamil and Sanskrit religious writings. Eventually gaining confidence in the new languages,
Nobili ventured to teach the Christian faith and baptized his first
convert, his Tamil teacher, in 1607. Nobili's techniques were based
on the root notion that Christian faith can be distinguished from any
form of European culh1re, mrastounding idea for a man of his times.
This idea brought Nobili into 'direct conflict with his Jesuit superiors
as well as with the Portuguese ecclesiastical authorities in India.
Nobili's distinguishing Christian faith from European culture did
not go nearly so far as many modern thinkers would like. Many
liberal Protestant thinkers and theologians would find his approach
1 The best biography is Vincent Cronin, A Pearl to India (London: Rupert
Hart-Davis, 1959).
2 Cf. Andre Rocaries, S.J., Roberto de Nobili, S.]. au le "Sannyasi" chretien
(Toulouse: Editions Priere et Vie, 1967 ), p. 129. This book contains a brief
biography followed by French translations from Nobili's correspondence and
Tamil theological writing.
3 Cf. Rocaries, pp. 125-6, n. 15.
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to the subject quite constricted by what they might call a narrow
dogmatism. Nobili was quite certain that a basically realistic worldview must go hand in hand with the Christian kerygma. Nevertheless, Nobili was willing to go much further than many of our cor.temporary theologians who want to de-Hellenize Christianity in
order to bring some hypothetical Hebraic or even culture-free core
into conjunction with contemporary varieties of civilization. NobPi
was willing not only to talk and to tbeorize but to stake his own
body, his own life and personality on the attempt to be a Catholic
Christian sannyiis!.
Humanly speaking, Nobili's experiment would never be totally
successful. He was thirty years old when he began to live as a sannyiisi, and there were inevitable compromises which he found necessary to introduce into his style of life. Nonetheless, the abuse and
calumny which Nobili suffered at the hands of Jesuits and other
Europeans because of this style of life indicate that he certainly
struck them as a cultural and religious traitor. Rumors circulated
among his friends in Europe that he had renounced the faith and
become a Hindu. Tried and effectively condemned by a stacked inquisitorial court in Goa in 1618, Nobili was not vindicated until in
1623 Pope Gregory XV ovemtled the petty jealousies of the Portuguese in India and approved his various acculturations of Christian
faith.
Nobili's teaching and activity will be examined more in detail in
the second section of this essay, especially with regard to social
struchtre and philosophical-theological speculation. Nobili's understanding of society and thought in seventeenth century India, although limited, would seem to make him the first European to try to
understand India somewhat on its own terms. There is no denying
that Nobili rejected much that was essential to Indian culture and
yet, paradoxically, hoped to keep his Christian converts from cultural alienation. There is a sociological naivete to his hope to change
only the religious component in the convert's culture. Also, there is
no doubt that his intellectual debates with Brahmins were aimed at
their conversion, not his own. The modem sensibility may be appalled at Nobili's desire for converts-perhaps an indication of how
deeply ingrained are the uncertanties of the modem sensibility. The
second section of this paper is meant neither to defend nor impugn
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Nobili's aims or methods. Rather, it seeks to discover from the partial
sources available to us in European languages how well Nobili
understood some aspects of Indian life and religiousness.
Before beginning this inquiry, however, it seems best to sketch
the European intellectual setting from which Nobili came to
~Iadurai and how it affected his ability to understand the Indian
situation. A concluding section will deal briefly with some contemporary reflections on the significance of his career today.
Tridentine origins
Roberto de Nobili was born in a titled family in papal Rome
of 1577, sixty years after Martin Luther published his ninety-five
thes~s on indulgences and fourteen years after Roman Catholicism
finisHed redefining the main tenets of doctrine challenged by the
Refdhnation. This redefinition-of-self, the Council of Trent ( 15451563), together with the Society of Jesus, which No bili entered in
1596, were the main formative influences in shaping the Catholicism
of Roberto de Nobili. These Tridentine and Jesuit influences on
Nobili must be spelled out in some detail if his career in India is to
be understood.
The Rome in which Nobili grew up was not the modem capital of
Italy but rather the focal city, only recently challenged as such, of
western Christianity. In the wake of the Council of Trent, Rome was
~ experiencing a rebirtl1 of theological and cultural energy which was
evolving what we now call baroque Catholicism. The northern European schooled in the cool beauty of Gothic cathedrals or the American brought up to admire the chaste simplicity of Congregational
architecture may suffer cultifre shock even today on visiting the
baroque churches of Rome. The Jesuit churches of the Gesu and
Sant' Igr.azio, to say nothing of Saint Peter's Basilica, seem to the
foreign visitor more dens of thieves tl1an houses of prayer. Instead
of hints of spirit, there is a flamboyant underlining of matter evidenced everywhere. Statues abound in a lifelike marble nudity or
wind-lashed drapery. The cross does not stand starkly simple to
confront the sinner; instead, gilded bursts of metallic light stream
from its center while cavorting saints and angels point it out with
elegantly turned hands. The simple table of the Lord's Supper has
been transformed into a high altar of sacrifice, raised on several
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platforms, crowned by layers of statuary, candles, nooks, niches and
other distractions.
Baroque Catholicism is a resounding artistic counter-challenge to
the Protestant Reformation. \Vhere the Reformers had tended to
emphasize man's radical inability as man to know God without the
absolutely unmerited gift of faith, the Counter-Reformation spearheaded by the Jesuits was accused, even within Catholicism, of semiPelagianism, overconfidence in man's ability to grasp God. Where
the Reformers had spumed the superstitious rites of the seven sacraments and even more of the sacramentals (indulgences, relics,
pictures, statues, blessed water, etc), Roman Catholicism in the
wake of Trent gave the latter even more conscious importance than
they had before. Where the Reformers had replaced the centrality
of sacramental ritual with the vernacular bible, Roman Catholicism
responded with a new emphasis not on the scriptures but on the oral
tradition of the Church.
With this Catholic patrimony Roberto de Nobili arrived in India
in the early seventeenth century. The Council of Trent gave him the
words and baroque Catholicism the feeling for human ability to
know God. In rejection of what Trent construed as Luther's insistence on the essential sinfulness of even the baptized Christian, the
Council distinguished the remains left by original sin, concupiscence, from the sin itsel£.4 Basically this Catholic definition took a
less serious view of the ravages of original sin on man's being as a
whole than did many of the Reformers, and especially Luther.
Catholicism and Lutheranism divide at this point historically: on
how seriously man's nature and its capabilities-and more especially
its ability to know God-are affected by sin. In many ways Kant is
the secularized lineal descendant of Luther in his skepticism about
any metaphysics; Catholic essays in 'natural theology' are the product of Trent, and later of Vatican I.
The practical results of this Tridentine teaching and consequent
Catholic attitude on Nobili's approach to Indian religiousness were
profound. While Francis Xavier, Nobili's theologically unsophisti4 Cf. A. Denzinger et A. Schi:inmetzer, S.J., eds., Enchiridion Symbolorum,
Definitionum et Declarationum De Rebus Fidei et Marum, 32nd ed. ( Freiburg
im Breisgau: Herder, 1963) 1515, 1521. Further references to it will simply ap-
pear as DS and the appropriate paragraph number.
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cated predecessor in the Asian missions, was not at all adverse to
describing pagan religions as devil worship, Nobili was unwilling to
be so negative. He wrote, in a Tamil essay on evangelical method:
"\Vithout setting forth the true religion, nor yet proving that the
others are false, there are some who start off from 'go' by declaring
that the gods of these religions arc demons and that the path which
they teach leads to hell. This is insult, n~t prcac:1ing or proof at all.
Injury of any kind cannot constitete a means of teaching the true
religion."~
Furthennore, Nobili was willing to argue 'natural theology' with
his visitors, such as his Saivite Tamil teacher. He takes it for granted
that he and the Saivite are talking about the same reality known as
such,when they say 'God'. He wrote of tHs discussion in a letter to
his--s.uperiors in Rome:
The philos')phers of this country, starting from the principle that nothing
is produced by nothing, admit three eternal things: pati, pasu, p:1sa. Pati
is God, pasu is the matter from which God made souls, p:~sa the matter
from which he forms the bCJdy. I confronted him with the ordinary arguments of philosophy to prove that if pasu were not created, it would be
God. Then I demonstrated that if pati c:mld not create or draw out of
nothingness, then it was not aU-powerful, and, as a consequence, it was
not God, since its activity, like that of secondary courses, was limited to
modifying forms. 6
The fact that Nobili was willing to begin with philosophical discussion of God-God as available to man's natural reason independent
of biblical revelation-is an iqdication of the confidence typical of
baroque Catholicism with regard to man's natural powers. Luther's
castigation of Aristotle has no counte1part in Nobili's baroque Catholic accept'lnce of the validity of non-biblical philosophic~1l speculation about God. To be sure, Nobili did not accept Saivite doctrine
intact, but it is most significant that l~e was willing to enter into
philosophical dialogue with it.
Sacramental universe
The Tridentine intellectual background manifests itself not only
in this conSder.ce in man's ability to reason to certain truths about
"Rocaries, p. 213.
G Rocaries, p. 144.
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�INDIAN RELIGIOUSNESS
God, but also in a confidence in the concretization of man's dealings
with God and God's dealings with man in the sacraments and sacramentals. Luther and Calvin rejected the five non-biblical sacraments
which had developed within Christianity over many centuries. Even
more vehemently they denounced the sacralization of so many
ordinary realities (the sacramentals) as idolatry. All of this was for
the Reformers the product of human imagination, the idol-factory,
a forcing of God into human molds.
Trent, in contrast, made explicit much that was previously undefined because unchallenged. The Council would not allow the symbolism of the sacraments to be reduced to "mere symbolism" in any
proto-rationalist sense. 7 The sacramentals, although not accorded as
much attention as the sacraments, were nonetheless defended in one
of the last sessions of Trent, albeit with due recognition that much
abuse and superstition had crept into these usages. Statues and
pictures of Christ and the saints "are to be kept with honor in places
of worship especially; and to them due honor and veneration is to
be paid-not because it is believed that there is any divinity or
power intrinsic to them for which they are reverenced, nor because
it is from them that something is sought, nor that a blind trust is to
be attached to images ... ; but because the honor which is shown
to them is referred to the prototypes which they represent." 8
When Nobili came out of this Tridentine Catholic atmosphere to
South India, he was not as repelled by Saivite and Vaisnavite ritual
and imagery as a Protestant of his generation might have been. He
showed himself not at all adverse to transforming Saivite rituals
peculiar to Madurai, such as the boiling of rice in milk in the presence of an image of Siva at the festival of Pongal. He wrote to his
provincial that "I allow our Christians to cook their rice and boil
their milk at the foot of a Cross which they plant for that purpose
and, to their great satisfaction, I myself bless the new rice which is
to be used in that ceremony."9 However, Nobili was constantly concerned to prevent a superstitious misapprehension of the meaning
of Catholic images. For this reason he would not admit the merely
curious into his chapel nor erect a cross outside of it, a practice
Cf. DS 1616.
DS 1823.
9 Cited in Cronin, p. 116.
7
8
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which further increased the Portuguese suspicion that he was beginning a new religion of his own in India. Nobili wrote in his Tamil
work Tushana Tikkiiram that non-Christians "brought into the
churches of the true God and seeing for themselves the statues displayed as symbols of great truths, . . . will consider these sacred
objects the equivalent of his idols and \vill adore them as he adores
his gods." 10 Nobili's sympathy for an image-oriented cultural religiousness apparently did not extend to its ur:converted original
forms, especially when these might lead to an easy Hindu-Christian
syncretism.
The final Tridentine aspect of Nobi1i's background which may at
least negatively }•ave affected his approach to India was Trent's
rejection of the Protestant insistence on the absolute centrality of the
biblY. in the church. Nobili showed no noticeable concem to translate the bible into Tamil or to impose biblical names, culture or
verbal formularies on his new converts. The curiously Hebraic
culture developed by many new Christians under the influence of
\Vycliffite evangelism seems to have been lacking in the Catholic
community of seventeenth century Madurai. For them Christianity
was the ]niina Veda taught by the guru whom they called Tattuva
Bodhakar. 11 In this emphasis on Christian doctrine not as the contents of a written scripture but as teaching handed on from master
_ to disciple Nobili reflects not only Indian religious traditions but the
Tridentine stress on oral tradition as more inclusive than sola scriptura.12
Jesuit background
The Jesuit background of~bberto de Nobili, and more particularly his situation as a member of a minority of Italian Jesuits in a
Portuguese Jesuit province, must not be ignored in the study of how
Nobili was able to live for nearly half a century as a sannyiisi, and
from this vantage point to approach the understanding of Indian
religiousness.
Ignatius and his followers have traditionally concentrated most of
their attention on man's cooperation with God's grace rather than
Rocaries, p. 211.
Cf. Cronin, passim, esp. pp. 67, 151, 267.
12 Cf. DS 1501.
1o
11
400
�INDIAN RELIGIOUSNESS
on God's ovenvhelming power. Ignatius took a gracious God for
granted and concentrated on perfecting the human servant. The
indifference he urged was to be a dynamic predisposition to take
whatever honest means prove more useful for attaining the ends
desired, a pragmatism of the spiritual life. The meditations on the
Kingdom of Christ, the Two Standards, the Three Classes of Men,
and Three Modes of Humility mold this indifference to positive
preference for union with Christ himself in his suffering and death.
It can hardly be claimed historically that Jesuits are any more
Christ-like than other Christians or human beings. But their Jesuit
ideals, as formulated in the Spiritual Exercises, may well give some
clue as to how and why they acted in one or another way. In this
instance these ideals may help to explain the extraordinary ability
of Roberto de Nobili to plunge himself into another culture and a
new manner of religiousness as few of his contemporaries did.
Nobili was sufficiently indifferent to his own baroque Italian version
of Catholicism and sufficiently attached to his vision of the selfemptying of Christ as to embrace with apparent calm the ascetic life
of an Indian sanni]asl, the reproaches of nearly all his fellow Europeans, the reputation of either an apostate or a madman.
The above-detailed spiritual motivation of Nobili should not, however, be overemphasized to the exclusion of a natural assistance
from his Italian aversion to the Portuguese with whom he lived. It
is always the privilege of a tl1ird party to be critical. As an Italian
in the Portuguese-run ecclesiastical structure of India, Nobili was
well able to see the cultural imperialism of the Europeans involved.
One may speculate whether he would have been quite so perspicacious in a hypothetical Italian colony in India.
In any case, Nobili and his older Italian contemporary, Matteo
Ricci, who became a mandarin in the 1590's in China, are prime
examples of an inventive and dynamically "indifferent" generation
of Jesuits. Their propensity to adopt whatever cultural means
deemed necessary to achieve their ends has contributed, perhaps, to
the seemingly ineradicable reputation for unscrupulous craftinessjesuitry-attached to the name of the Society of Jesus. Arnold Toynbee, however, has a more positive appreciation of their attempts "to
purge our Christianity of its vVestem accessories":
The Jesuits were, of course, highly cultivated men. They were masters of
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all the resources of \Vestern Christendom, which, by that time, was a
highly cultivated civilization. And, when they came upon the civilizations
of China and India, they were able to appreciate the fact that here they
were in the presence of great cultures, which, on the secular side, were
built upon different foundations from the \Vestern culture--upon different
philosophies, for instance. . . . The Jesuit missionaries realized that the
Greek terms in which Christianity had been expressed from the time of
the Roman Empire onwards were not the best terms for making it
acceptable to the minds and the hearts of Chinese and Indians. So they
deliberately set themselves to divest their Christianity of its Western and
Graeco-Roman accessories and to put it to the Chinese and the Indians
in their own terms.13
This sanguine estimate of Toynbee's may go beyond the evidence in
the c~se of Nobili, at least, and take in more the facts surrounding
the late seventeenth century Jesuits involved in the famous controversy over the Chinese Rites. Nonetheless, Ricci and Nobili were
the beginners of that amazing century of Jesuits who came from
Europe to Asia to teach and stayed to learn.
Indian social structure
It is indeed unfortunate that the great bulk of Nobill's writings are
not as yet available in translation into European languages. A definitive study of his understanding of the Indian culture which he en~ countered in seventeenth century Madurai can only be made by
those proficient in Tamil and Sanskrit. His unpublished letters in
Italian and Latin, preserved in the Roman Archives of the Society
of Jesus, have been widely quoted in Cronin's biography and
Rocaries' selection from his writings. These latter French excerpts
from Nobili's Tamil Gnanopadesam and Tushana Tikkiiram give
some idea, however, of Nobili's understanding of social structure
and philosophical-theological thought in seventeenth century
Madurai. From these very partial sources a tentative sketch at least
may be made.
In view of the more recent history of India, in which Gandhi rose
to world prominence not only for his non-violent politics of independence but also for his ceaseless efforts to abolish untouchability,
the modem observer might at first be shocked by the readiness with
· 13 A. J, Toynbee, Christianity among the Religions of the World (New York:
Scribner's, 1957), pp. 92-3.
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�INDIAN RELIGIOUSNESS
which Nobili accepted the caste system as he found it in India. Such
shock would be an unhistorical reaction, rather like blaming the
biblical authors for geocentric thinking. Nobili came from a comparatively rigid social structure in Europe and could recognize some
hierarchical forms-albeit without the built-in equalizer of samsiira
(transmigration of souls )-as intrinsic to society.
What did disturb Nobili was the low rank in the caste system assigned to the European Christians who had come for commerce,
conquest or converts to India. This largely Portuguese group was
labelled parangis and the highly cultivated Indians found them uncouth, as indeed they very likely were. They and all who followed
them were rated very low or even outside the caste system. Nobili
realized that much more than faith in Christ was being demanded
of the prospective converts when they were asked if they wished to
enter the religion of the parangis. Without denying the possibility
of parangis being Christians, Nobili insisted that he himself was not
a parangi, but rather a riijii who had become a sannyiisi, his translation of an Italian noble who had become Jesuit. Against calumniators Nobili insisted on this self-definition, made to the chagrin of his
non-noble, non-Italian fellow Jesuits:
I am not a parangi, I was not born in the land of the parangis and I have
nothing to do with their race-God is my witness! If anyone can prove
that I am lying, beside the fact that I then would become a traitor to God
and deserve the pains of hell, I submit myself ahead of time to all the
punishments I incur on earth. I was born in Rome, where my family
holds the rank which in this country belongs to noble rajas. From my
youth I embraced the sannyasi state, having studied wisdom and the holy
spiritual law. I left my country, travelled over many kingdoms and came
to Madurai.1 4
\Vhen the Portuguese Jesuits reacted vehemently to Nobili's separatism-he would only receive them reluctantly in his dwelling and
then by night-his style of life came in for severe criticism both in
India and in Europe. Nobili valiantly and repeatedly explained that
he was still teaching the same Christian faith to his converts but that
he was also trying to prevent them from losing caste. He detailed at
some length how low in the Indian system parangis were accounted:
In Tamil the word (parangi) cannot express the meaning of religion or
H
Rocaries, p. 152.
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race. [151 It signifies, in fact, the sickness we know under the name of
morbus gallicus. . . . It cannot here signify the name of Christian . . .
Actually, they even doubt that the parangis have a God or a religion ...
The Nayak (prince of Madurai) one day invited a parangi to examine his
horses. This parangi was late in arriving because it was a Sunday and he
had to attend Mass. Quite amazed, the Nayak asked his Brahmins what
this could mean. Do the parangis have a religion and worship a god? One
of the professors in his entourage replied to this: "0 Nayak, do not be
surprised: every barbarian, no matter how stupid a people may be, adores
a god." Such was the opinion, then, in the royal court about the religion
of the parangis. I am then correct in asking if in Madurai parangi means
Christian.16
~
N obili hoped as a sannyiisi, somewhat outside the ordinary norm
of the social order and yet able to deal with members of all the
higher castes, to bring men to Christ without also bringing them to
the King of Portugal. In 1640 Nobili urged two other Jesuits to
undertake a separate mission among outcastes. Nobili did not feel
it was his role as a foreigner to change the social structure of Madurai. There is no doubt that his theological polemic against samsiira
and karmic retribution would have eventually effected social change,
if Christianity were ever to become a mass movement. But Nobili
was pre-sociological and could not have foreseen this. Perhaps
Nobili was attempting an impossible integration of Christianity into
the Indian social structure at Madurai. In any case, even his quixotic
plans were motivated by the primal element of genuine sympathy
for Indian culture which may well be the prologue to true understanding.
__ •
Indian thought
Nobili's typically Jesuit approach to questions of philosophical
and theological truth was the disputation. One example available to
us in French translation from the Gnanopadesam is Nobili's discussion of the significance of the Trimurti. R. C. Zaehner notes that this
so-called Indian trinity is a theological arrangement meant to satisfy
varying sectarian claims: "Brahmanism . . . can absorb almost anything into itself, and so the rivalry between Siva and Vishnu was
15 There seems to be some contradiction between the use of the word 'race'
in this quotation and that in the last.
16 Rocaries, pp. 126-7.
404
�INDIAN RELIGIOUSNESS
resolved by the creation of a largely artificial Trimiirti or 'One God
in three forms', Brahma-Vishnu-Siva, a trinity in which Brahma is
the creator, Vishnu the preserver, and Siva the destroyer. This compromise was, however, without effect on popular religion, and
Hindus are to this day worshippers of either Vishnu or Siva or Siva's
sakti, each of which their devotees regard as the supreme Being."17
Popular or not, the Trimrirti has appealed to more than one Christian as a possible intuition into the Trinity of God the Father, Son
and Holy Spirit. Nobili may be the first student of Indian religiousness to undertake the task of disabusing others of this easy comparison. The context is not so much a negative assessment of Indian
religious ideas as a positive description of the Christian mystery of
the Trinity. It may strike us today that Nobili's negative evaluation
of the Trimiirti is excessive, however, and that his understanding of
Indian religion may be severely limited precisely by his Jesuit habit
of disputatious controversialism.
If we study attentively their doctrine . . . on the Trimiirti, we can justly say
iliat iliese idols are not God, but three creatures, and there is no proof ... that
iliey are tile Unique Being. The very writings of their different teachers and
the myths peculiar to all the false sects prove that sufficiently . . . 18
Nobili ventures into etymological proof for this severe rejection of
the Trimiirti, or more precisely, Trimtlrti as an adequate translation
for Trinity. But he may intrigue the modern student of Indian
thought much more by his reference to a proof of his point from the
testimony of Sanskrit authors:
Many Sanskrit authors themselves declare that the Trimurti of Brahma,
Vishnu and Rudra is not God, but the three qualities (which follow):
Clemency (Sativigam), Impassibility (Thamasan) and Passion (Rasadham). The Mayavadis believe the same thing. All this cannot belong to
the Absolute God and thus this doctrine is completely erroneous. Moreover Sankara and his disciples teach that the word Trimurti signifies
utility: which proves with evidence that this Trimurti cannot be the
Absolute One ... If, moreover, we study attentively the different sects
of this country in conRict among themselves, we learn from authors like
Barthuruhari that Absolute Blessedness cannot be achieved by Brahma,
Vishnu and Rudra, and that the worshippers of these gods are in error.
17
18
Hinduism (New York: Oxford University Press, 1966 ), p. 86.
Rocaries, p. 171.
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Some Sanskrit authors teach . . . that the three-Brahma, Vishnu and
Rudra themselves- are incapable of knowing the true God. Their teaching itself proves that these Trimiirtigal are not God. 19
Nobili's calling on the authority of Sanskrit authors is a revealing
aspect of the specifically Catholic direction of his thought. He is not
bound to biblical sources for his proofs any more than was Thomas
Aquinas. The Sanskrit authors take on for t-:obili, at least in this
passage, some of the authority Thomas ascribed to "the Philosopher,"
Aristotle. Nobili was apparently not as well disposed to Sankara and
other Vedantic thinkers as this text might hint, but he seems to have
caught the great Advaitin's teaching on the nirguna Brahman ( Absolute Reality considered without qualities) which cannot be reduced
to any" of its manifestations.~ 0 Nobili finds in this central Advaitin
doctrine fuel for his own "natural theology."
This Catholic tendency to approach God not only by faith but by
philosophy as well brought Nobili to an appreciation of the speculative genius of Sankara. Although Nobili was at first hopeful of having found an Indian Aristotle in Sankara, whose philosophy might
be transformed as the framework of an Indian Christian theology,
he eventually came to the conclusion that Vedantic thought was irretrievably monist. It left no room for a theological explanation of
union with God or salvation which leaves human liberty intactP In
~ his search for an alternative philosophical system within the Indian
tradition, Nobili fastened onto the less exciting but highly analytic
Nyoya thought. 22 It appealed to his Tridentine and Jesuit predisposition to controversialism and scholasticism. Not enough of his writings
on Nyaya thinkers are available.- in our sources for any further examination of how well he understood their speculation.
Conclusion
The Tridentine-Baroque Catholic optimism with regard to human
nature, Catholic anti-iconoclastic sacramentalism and traditionalist
rather than biblicist orientations have all been cited as the background for Nobili's unique ability to sympathize with and under19
2
Rocaries, p. 172.
°Cf. M. Hiriyanna, Outlines of Indian Philosophy
and Unwin, 1932 ), pp. 373ff.
_ 21 Cf. Cronin, p. 94 .
• 22 Cf. Cronin, pp. 171-72.
406
(London: George Allen
�INDIAN RELIGIOUSNESS
stand Indian religiousness. His Jesuit ascetical formation may make
more understandable his personal capacity to forsake the life-style
of a European Jesuit and adopt that of a Christian sannyiisi. In the
few translations available of his Tamil writings and his Italian and
Latin letters back to Europe we can see something of his grasp on
the social structure and religious thought of his section of seventeenth century India.
But Nobili is dead, the India of the seventeenth century has
changed radically, and modern Catholicism considers itself postTridentine, post-baroque. It is hard at first sight to think of any
abiding values in the career of Nobili which might be relevant today
in the encounter of the world's religious traditions, and more particularly, the mutual understanding and encounter of Catholic Christianity and the Indian religious tradition. His rejection of Vedantic
thought strikes us today as singularly shortsighted and his championing of caste status quite out of date.
Perhaps the only continuing value to any aspect of Nobili's career
for today's situation is his Catholic confidence in the ability of all
men to come to the knowledge of God. For a Catholic it is absolutely
impossible to be orthodox and to say that "Without the particular
knowledge of God in Jesus Christ, men do not really know God at
all." This formulation of Christian theology, discussed a few years
back by the United Church of Canada's commission on faith, has
provoked some of the most incisive writing of \Vilfred Cantwell
Smith. 23 Much of the clear Catholic rejection of this sort of exclusivistic thinking has come about since the middle of the nineteenth
century as a reaction against various Catholic varieties of Kantian
pessimism about human knowledge of God. Just as the Council of
Trent refused to accept Lutheran pessimism about the effects of sin
on human nature, the First Vatican Council ( 1869-1870) refused to
accept the fideistic denial of any knowledge of God by the light of
human reason alone.
The Tridentine rejection of Lutheran pessimism about human
nature untouched by the saving word of Jesus Christ met its first
concrete examples of man at least visibly untouched by the Christian
kerygma in the Catholic missionary expansion of the baroque age.
23Cf.
The Faith of Other Men (New York: New American Library, 1965),
pp. 119ff.
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Starting as they did with Tridentine optimism, it is not too surprising, then, that, for all their polemics with the Indian and Chinese
thinkers, these early Jesuit missionaries found much to be admired
in the religiousness of these Indians and Chinese. The consummate
ability of these non-Christian peoples to discuss lofty theological
questions about God impressed these Jesuits deeply. This Catholic
optimism about man's natural knowledge of God, as finally formulated at Vatican I, is often a source of embarrassment in Christian
ecumenical dialogue. But I would venture to suggest that this
Catholic tradition that "God ... can be known with certainty by the
natural light of human reason" 24 is the best possible beginning for
the greater ecumenism which lies ahead of us as a planet of religious
people~.
'
--
,24
DS 3004.
408
�THE SUPERIOR'S ROLE WITHIN OBEDIENCE
the view of Ignatius
MARK
R. Voss, S.J.
I) THE lGNATIAN
AIM
SERVICE, RATHER THAN A :MYSTICAL UNION or transformation, was the
result of the spiritual dynamism through which Ignatius of Loyola
was led. All of the various aspects of this Ignatian spirituality,
prayer, abnegation, finding God in all things, even the enthusiastic
attachment for Christ himself, were geared to performing this service
of God; every deliberation and decision of Ignatius was done in the
light of this overwhelming desire to serve God.
Christ sacrificed himself because of his love for men, for their
redemption. He was the pre-eminent servant, and thus Ignatius is
drawn to give a tender and unwearied effort for the souls Christ
loved and redeemed. He always did the will of his Father in his role
as servant, and so Ignatius, in his insatiable desire to imitate Christ,
centered his own service not upon his own will and his own ideas,
but upon the will of the Father and the inspirations of the Spirit. A
faithful and dedicated servant does not do his own will, but the will
of him whom he serves. As a consequence the dynamic element
within the characteristically Ignatian concept of service is that the
service can only be that which Christ wants. Herein lies the Ignatian
magis: the greater honor and glory to God which can be pursued in
an action only when the will of God is discerned with regard to that
action. Prayer and contemplation then are centered upon finding the
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will of God in all matters; abnegation and self-sacrifice are meant to
produce a man who is selfless and who can, therefore, find the will
of God and act upon it, rather than to act for personal interest,!
Pursuing this line of thought, then, the Society of Jesus could work
for the greater honor and glory of God if and only if it is free enough
to do that which may be unconventional, since God's will could
conceivably ask for unconventional service; the religious orders existing at the time of the Society's beginnings were tied down to particular works by their Constitutions, and Ignatius wanted his companions to be capahle of magis. There could be no a priori determination of the works of the Society; 2 the Jesuit was to be mobile. He
was to find God's will in everything and be willing and able to act
upon it. The Constitutions of the Society are both a testimony to
Ignatius' faith and trust that God will make his will known and a
realistic set of guidelines to insure that the Society remain open to
God's will and be able to act upon it. The Constitutions' statements
regarding poverty, obedience, prayer, abnegation, education are all
pointed toward Loyola's vision of the Society as a group of men
whose rationale was the magis: God's wi1J.3
II) THE SoCIETY AND Goo's WILL
The discernment of spirits
The Supreme Wisdom and Goodness of God our Creator and Savior are
what must preserve, direct, and carry forward in His divine service this
I Joseph DeGuibert, S.J., The Jesuits: Their Spiritual Doctrine and Practice,
translated by William J. Young, S.J., (Chicago: The Institute of Jesuit Sources,
1964). For all the material citedi~-this and the preceding paragraph, consult
the first section of this work. Cf. especially pp. 127, 132, and also 584-5."[The
correction of faults, the acquisition of virtues, and prayer itself] are means to
put the soul under the full dominion of God's love and thus render it entirely
docile to his every wish in order to give service and glory to him, the sole and
unique end of everything. Prayer is a means by which the soul can be penetrated
with the supernatural spirit, united with its Creator and Lord, and placed
completely under the influence of his grace" ( 571).
2 For example, to decide to send more than one or two men to a mission "is
something the superior will have authority to do, according as the unction of
the Holy Spirit inspired or as he judges in his divine majesty to be better and
more expedient." (The Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, 625; tr. George
E. Ganss, S.J., to be published shortly.) This translation hereafter referred to
, as Canst.
3 Canst., 134, 547.
410
�SUPERIOR'S ROLE
least Society of Jesus. 4
The primary and most basic faith-centered presupposition of
Loyola is that the creator and savior would provide the Society with
the grace and light needed for it to serve God. The Constitutions
will "aid us to proceed better . . . along the path of divine service ... ,"5 but it is the savior who will maS:e his way known.
Nevertheless, a characteristically Ignatian insight is that only a
man who has divested himself of self-interest will be able to find and
embrace the will of God. Thus a sine qtta non, a first principle, for
service of the master, is abnegation. The discernment of God's will
is impossible if there is present a personal concern and an incomplete
interest in Christ's will. 6 As with abnegation, so too with prayer and
the Spiritual Exercises: they are not ends in themselves; they are
means
... which have as their purpose ... that no decision is made under the
influence of any inordinate attachment, [and thereby of] seeking and
finding the will of God in the disposition of our life. 7
The superiors of the society
The general of the Society must be a man with two characteristics: 1) that he be a man possessing the capabilities necessary to
determine what might be the will of God and 2) that he be one who
will be able to direct the Society in its implementation of God's
will. 8 His qualities fall into three categories: 1) his relationship
with God, 2) his virtues, and 3) his physical characteristics. 9
The most important "quality" of the general (and hence of any
superior of the Society 10 ), is that "he be closely united with God our
Lord and intimate with Him in prayer and in all his actions.'' 11 As a
result of this union the superior will more readily receive for the
Canst., 134.
Canst., 134.
6 DeGuibert, pp. 137 and 595.
4
5
7
Sp Ex, 21.
Canst., 666.
9 Canst., 724.
to Canst., 820, and DeGuibert, p. 158. Canst., 811 says: "From what has been
said about the General it will be possible to infer what is applicable to the
provincial superiors, local superiors, and rectors of colleges, with respect to
their qualifications."
11 Canst., 723.
8
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
Society those gifts and graces which will direct the Society and also
receive for the Society the power to effectively carry out this directionP Secondly, the superior is to be a man whose virtues are those
which will permit him to objectively determine the will of God in all
things and also serve as an example to the men under him: humility
and charity, without which the Society could not function; 13 independent of all passions "so that in his interior they may not disturb
the judgment of his intellect" and that in his exterior he may serve
as an example to those who observe him; 14 rectitude mixed with
kindness and gentleness that "he neither allows himself to swerve
from what he judges to be more pleasing to God our Lord," and that
his men can recognize "that in what he does he is proceeding rightly
in our Lord ..."; 15 and in addition a great magnanimity and fortitude ..so that he might be able to initiate and persevere in "great
undertakings" which reason and the divine service require. 16
In other words he is a man sensitive to the light of the Spirit and
strong enough to carry it through as well as possess those characteristics which will inspire trust in his judgment.
The third quality is that he ought to be endowed with great understanding and judgment, in order that this talent may not fail him either in the
speculative or the practical matters which may arise. 17
~
\Ve also have
... experience in spiritual and interior matters, that he may be able to
discern the various spirits and to give counsel and remedies to so many
who will have spiritual necessities,l8
In summary then, these first three, and most important, qualities
are intended by Ignatius to show that the superior is to be a man
whose primary task is to discern the will of the creator and savior
and to inspire his own men to understanding and action. 19
Canst., 723.
Canst., 725.
14 Canst., 726.
15 Canst., 727.
16 Canst., 728.
17 Canst., 729.
18 Canst., 729.
19 Canst., 767, 789, and 790. Note also what Ignatius has to say in 797 about
lower superiors. Note also 423:
'
"An effort should be made that the rector should be a man of great ex12
13
412
�SUPERIOR'S ROLE
Christ in the superior
... we should be ready to receive [the superior's] command just as if it
were coming from Christ our Savior, since we are fulfilling the command
in His place and because of love and reverence for Him. 20
Ignatius can say that a subject should obey "just as if it were
coming from Christ" because in the human-sin-laden situation the
best we can do is to let the superior have the ultimate decision because he is ideally among the most open to the will of God and
therefore more likely to see clearly what the will of God is in a
given situation. Ignatius presupposes that we have picked one from
among the singularly most selfless individuals, and that God's love
will be active most effectively in him because of his selflessness.
Therefore
. . . [the subject] ought to hold it as certain that by this procedure he is
conforming himself with the divine will more than by those he could do
while following his own will and judging differently. 21
The superior, thus, is "the one who holds the place of Christ our
Lord" for the subject because in so doing the subject is assured that
in his human situation he has taken the best possible means available to arrive at the will of God. 22 This key idea stems from Ignatius'
keen sense of realism.
I think we are now in a better position to comprehend the profound nature of obedience-of-the-understanding. The understanding
of the superior is ideally that which is most likely in conformity with
the will of Christ; his understanding of a particular matter is what it
is because of his intimacy with God our Lord, and his selflessnesshis lack of personal interest. Therefore, ideally, when the subject's
ample, edification, and mortification of all his evil inclinations, and one
especially approved in regard to his obedience and humility. He ought
likewise to be discreet, fit for governing, experienced in both matters of
business and of the spiritual life. He should know how to mingle severity
with kindness at the proper times. He should be alert, stalwart under work,
a man of learning, and finally, one in whom the higher superiors can confide and to whom they can with security delegate their authority. For the
more all this will be verified, the better can the colleges be governed for
the greater glory of God."
20 Const., 547.
21 Canst., 547.
22 The problem of the poor command will be treated below.
413
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
understanding is in conformity with that of the superior, it would be
so because the subject's understanding stems from the same graces
and same type of selflessness. The subject thus will himself grow in
his intimacy with Christ.
The superior is also human
St. Ignatius was a realist, and he knew that, in spite of his legislation, there would be superiors ar.d subjects who would not live up
to the ideals he sketched in his Constitutions. He knew it would be
seldom tl:at his ideals would be attained and his sense of realism
dictated that he include within his legislation chec~<s upon and aids
for his superiors. This definitely fits in with the Ignatian ideal to do
as much as humanly possible to insure that the will of God would
be recognized and executed; he saw that the Society could do nothing \~ithout God's assistance, yet he was also wary lest the Society
slip into an attitude of overconfidence. His checks and aids for
superiors were intended to assure that the Society of Jesus did as
much as humanly possible to insure its following the ideal of the
m~gis.
~
1) Consultors. As we generally have them now: four assistants of
discretion and goodness who can aid the superior in matters pertaining to his office and with whom he should discuss the matters of
importance. ~ 3
2) Syndics (correctors or informants). These men were to report
at least weekly to the rector on all matters of his concern: classes,
individual teachers, etc. They. were to keep the rector totally informed of all trouble areas antLthose matters where the rector may
have erred And if asked to do so, they were to admonish, advise, or
correct individual Jesuits. 24 Their primary task, however, was to
keep the rector completely informed.
3) Collateral. If a superior of a province or house should be lacking expericrce or any other necessary qualities which a superior
should have, a higher superior may assign to him a collateral whose
attributes would complement those of the lower superior. This
collateral would not be subject to the lower superior, but would live
with the s:1perior, and have two functions. First, he was to express
23
•
24
Const., 431 and 490.
Const., 371, 504, and 770.
414
�SUPERIOR'S ROLE
his opinion to the superior in any difficult matters and guide him in
his decisions. If the superior should appear to err in particular decisions, the collateral should inform both the higher and the lower
superior. The advice of the collateral could be about any matter
pertaining to the superior's office or person. Secondly, he is to function as a liaison between the superior and his subjects, trying to
move among the subjects effecting their understanding of the
superior and his decisions and their having the proper esteem and
love toward their superior. He is also to exert his influence toward
creating an atmosphere of accord and agreement among the subjects.25
In summary, the collateral was to be a man who was to aid a
given superior in the functions of his office and was to help preserve
the community's union which Ignatius valued so highly. 26 And he
was to serve as a check upon the superior since his qualities were to
be complementary; he was to keep the higher superiors informed
about the lower superior, and was to listen to and weigh the opinions
of the men of the community, and convey them to the superior.
4) Reports to Higher Superiors.
When the superior general or the provincial desires more complete information, not only should the collateral, syndic, and board of consultants
write about the rector and all the others, but each of the teachers and
approved scholastics as well as of formed coadjutors should write his
opinion about all of them, the rector included. That this may not seem
to be something new, this report should be written as something ordinary
at least every three years.27
This is definitely another practical means to insure that the government of the house was being conducted according to the ideals
Ignatius laid down.
5) The Search for Advice. Essential for determining the will of
God is as complete a knowledge and understanding as is possible in
a given situation, 28 and in complex situations Ignatius wanted to be
assured that advice and counsel would be sought before the deciCanst., 490, 659-662.
In the Constitutions, the collateral is discussed within the context of
"means to preserve the union of the Society."
27 Canst., 507.
2s Sp Ex, 280-82.
25
26
415
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
sions were made. Throughout the Constitutions, we see Ignatius telling his superiors to seek such counsel. The general must consult the
provincials when considering a decision which will affect them
although the final decision remains his;~ 0 must consult the general
congregation before abandoning a college, 30 ar.d must consult with
those who have a better understanding of the matter of accepting
colleges t:nder unusual conclitions. Superiors must get advice before
sending ir.d~Yidua 1 s to the missions;:n bebre dismissing anyone, t~e
provincial must l:sten to those who know the individual and whose
opinions would be relevant; 3 ~ and t'1e rector of a college must summon representatives of the faculty as weii as the other officials of the
college before ta!..:ing actions on tLe faculty of a deparhnent of a
college. In fact, "if it seems wise to the rector, he may also summon
others from withn and without the Society to the meeting in order
that by learning the opinions of all he may the better decide upon
what is expedient."33
Summary a:td conclusions
The superior was to be one who could discern as clearly as possible what the will of God was in each decision-situation. Yet it seems
clear from the foregoing section that Ignatius did not think that this
ability would came automatically by virtue of the superior's office;
Ignatius knew tl~ere would be graces consequent upon being a
superior, but also legislated to make certain that the superior did all
that was humanly possible to be completely informed and thus more
open to the will of God. Yes, the will of the superior would be the
will of Christ, at least, whar .considering the whole complexus of
decisions; f1is seemed to be the best manner available to us as men
to determining Christ's will, and Ignatius wanted to be certain that
as much as possible was clone to insure the proper discernment of
God's will.
Canst.,
Canst.,
31 Canst.,
32 Canst.,
33 Canst.,
~n
30
761, 791.
322.
618.
221.
502.
416
�SUPERIOR'S ROLE
III)
OBEDIENCE AND COMMUNITY
The institute of the Society of Jesus was directly organized to help
and dispose souls to gain their ultimate end through the manner
which God indicates. 34 The chief means to this service of God is the
union of the members. The corporate entity, the Society of Jesus, is
to be the means whereby God is served; and the individual Jesuit is
to find within this union the means whereby he, as an individual,
was to receive the help he would need to serve God. 35
\Vith regard to the Society as a whole, as a corporate entity, the
chief means to this union is obedience 36, which will link all members together to insure a common purpose. As a result of obedience,
the Society can function as one body, and therefore be more effective
in the service of Christ. 37
Also, each individual Jesuit's goal is to do the will of God. His
love for God and his desire to serve him is the reason he has incorporated himself within the Society. On the whole, and as discussed previously, the superior should be the one who has the
qualities which enable him to most accurately discern the will of
God. Therefore, the Superior's role is to aid each individual in
search for God's will. If we assume that the individual Jesuit is a
Jesuit because of his desire to serve God within such a group of
men, and we assume that the Superior is making use of all of the
spiritual and human means possible to insure that he is able to discern the graces being given to his community 38 , then we can see that
it will be primarily the superior who will bring his community together in a union of wills. 39 His role is to serve the community by
helping each individual find the will of God for him within the
larger context of the community, the Society, and Church.
If the superior is to determine the direction of the workings of the
Spirit, it would be incumbent that he understand well the directions
that same Spirit is taking within each individual Jesuit. Hence
Canst., 135 and 156.
Canst., passim, but especially 624.
36 Canst., 659, 662, and 821.
37 Canst., 821.
38 Ignatius warns that superiors must be given the time to do this; they must
not be burdened down with administrative details.
39 Ignatius hints at this in Canst., 671.
34
35
417
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
Ignatius incorporates the manifestation of conscience, the explicit
purpose of which is a union of wills 40 , and also the expression of
contrary opinions to the superior.
IV)
CONCLUSIONS
"Traditional" conceptions
The conception of obedience which many Jesuits have today was
formed by Ignatius' famous "Letter on Obedience" to the Society in
Portugal in 1553. This is unfortunate because extreme circumstances
motivated this letter.
The letter was occasioned by those members of the Province of Portugal
who were very attached to Father Simon Rodrigues, excessively so, with
an affection that was too natural and unspiritual. Rodrigues' method of
gover~~ent had erred on the side of mildness and softness, with the result that, when he was removed, these subjects refused obedience to any
other superior than himself or one appointed by him. 41
This points up the problem of absolutizing a letter. Because the
circumstances in Portugal constituted a grave threat to the very existence of the Society, it was incumbent upon Ignatius to "lay down
the law." His letter would have to emphasize the necessity for obeying to the exclusion of other essential factors in the total context of
~obedience. Ignatius would not have wanted this letter to be the
document which formed the complete Jesuit ideal of obedience,
since very little is said in it about the role of the superior, which of
course constitutes a rather es~ential part of Ignatian obedience.
Nevertheless this letter, and even some of its most extreme parts
has, de facto, formed the concept of obedience for many Jesuits.
·when one takes "The Letter" as the criterion for his study of
Ignatian obedience, one can arrive at the conclusion that Ignatius
and faith teach
... that the command of the Superior is not in reality the command of a
man, but the command of God himself, who avails Himself of man as a
conscious instrument for the transmission of his will. 42
Canst., 424.
Letters of St. Ignatius of Loyola (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1959 ),
tr. Wm. J. Young, S.J., p. 287. Italics added .
• · 42 Espinosa Polit, S.J., Perfect Obedience (Westminster: Newman, 1947),
p. 287.
40
41
418
�SUPERIOR'S ROLE
The inspiration becomes almost completely vertical: God to superior. In fact, Polit (whose classic treatment of obedience adorns
many shelves in Jesuit houses) carries this vertical descent to the
extent of saying:
In the same way [as in the Eucharist], Christ conceals Himself from us
in our Superior. In spite of his imperfection, [the Superior] is for us the
representative of Christ; Christ hides beneath the weakness and imperfections of the man, just as he conceals Himself beneath the sacramental
species. 43
This type of expose is unignatian in that it obliterates the horizontal aspect of obedience. Loyola was extremely conscious of the fact
that the Spirit would move in all his men, and that the Superior
would have to depend very much upon his men for "light." To insure
this, Ignatian realism demanded this horizontal aspect be juridically
established within the Constitutions: 44 syndics; consultors; collaterals; letters every third year, if not more often; constant advice-all
of those because of a realization that a superior is human.
Implications of lgnatian obedience
Ignatian obedience is indeed a testimony to divine providence; it
is a sign of the fact that a man believes that God is an active force in
his life, that God's grace is present in what is commonly known as
the apostolate. We should not merely think in terms of individual
commands; the vow of obedience constitutes a permanent lifeform giving man a God-ward orientation within the framework of
the Church. As with the vows of poverty and chastity, obedience too
is a sign; a sign of God's active presence within the world.
But a truly Ignatian obedience is also a sign of the fact that we
cannot sit back and let God move us. Ignatius was extremely
43 Polit, p. 62. I would not like to be asked to explain such a statement,
especially in the light of all the aids and helps Ignatius thought it necessary to
give the Superior. Yet this conception of obedience is alive today among Jesuits,
and that fact must be recognized.
44 The Society as a whole might very well consider whether such a juridical
legislation might not be a much more realistic thing than the recommendations
along this line as spelled out by the 31st General Congregation. Realism would
seem to demand, as experience has taught, that for the protection of the Society's individuals and unity, such light - seeking aids and juridical checks be
firmly reestablished within the practices of the Society.
419
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
conscious of the fact that a juridically established superior would
not, by that very fact alone, have a comer on the market of God's
grace. Ignatian obedience is also a sign to men that, although we
do trust in the presence of God's help, we also must be an active,
imaginative, initiating, charismatic force within his economy of
salvation. The magis of Ignatius is that we do what is God's will, and
this implies that we be open to possibilities which may not lie within
our currently operative conceptual schemes. For Ignatius, this
applies to both superior and subject. The spirit of Ignatius is that the
superior should use (not "could use") any and all po~sible means to
discern the spirits, as his subjects must also do if they are sons of
Ignati_us.
The
p~;pblem
of the bad command
The service of God demanded that the unity of the Society be preserved. Loyola saw that, as in all human societies, if obedience is left
to the discretion of the individual, the corporate nature of the Society was in peril; this is a sociological fact. Nevertheless, Ignatius
also saw that poor superiors would probably spring up, and so he
took steps to minimize this possibility. Superiors come from among
our best men; they are given collaterals, syndics, and consultors; they
are to seek advice; and subjects report on all of these men regularly.
- If poor commands 45 still do result, the Jesuit is to obey; the greater
good demands the unity of the Society. The Jesuit is a man who is
living his life because of his desire for the greater service of God; in
a given undesirable situation h~ must realize that the overall good
demands that he be obedient.-- __
Karl Rahner develops this idea. 46 Dedication in obedience is a
choice of an unforeseeable destiny; a gamble found in every state of
life. \Vithout such a dedication or surrender to the unknown future,
a man would be caught in his own egoistic anxiety-a sure way to
45 \Ve shall assume throughout this section that the command does not speak
about sin. This is a greater problem than we think. As "protest" grows, there
will be more Jesuits who will feel in conscience that they must protest, for
example. If a superior commands them not to, this could conceivably involve a
matter of sin. This problem needs much work, as do many other conflicts of
conscience of a similar type.
, 46 Karl Rahner, S.J., "Reflections on Obedience: A Basic lgnatian Concept,"
Cross Currents 10 ( 1960 ), 369--70.
420
�SUPERIOR'S ROLE
destruction. "But the man who gives himself to what is higher and
nobler, who takes the gamble, knows that he is doing what Christ
did in his obedience."47 Christ lived to do what he knew he had to
do, even though it led to death on the cross. The Father willed that
Christ, as a man, proclaim the Kingdom, and part of being a man
was that he should suffer for this.
The religious dedicates his life in a sign that God's will is active
in this world. An essential part of this dedication is that it be in the
world of real men, and as such there shall be stupidities and bad will.
These stupidities are the will of God in a permissive sense; he wants
us to live a life of dedication in this real and occasionally stupid
world. With Christ, the cross was a must. So too in religious obedience; after all possible attempts have been made to change a bad
command, such a command becomes the practical occasion for the
embodiment of that faith in God's grace.
Ignatius also saw that a life dedicated to service would require
a great deal of selflessness and thus if a bad command is given,
obedience could also be conceived of as a means by which to grow
in selflessness, a means to reduce pride, which will result in greater
indifference, so important for a man dedicated to doing God's will
and not his own. (This is considerably more positive than "selfimmolation" which is occasionally held up as a reason for one's
acquiescence in obedience; it is hard to see how subjection to the will
of another for its own sake could be considered anything more than
amoral.)
This leaves untouched the problem of the habitually obtuse superior.48 It seems to the writer that if superiors are picked more for
their spiritual sensitivity than for their organizational ability, and
are given the checks and aids which Ignatius thought so important,
( 1) this problem would arise much less frequently, and ( 2) when it
did, the situation would come to the surface much more quickly and
could thus more easily be corrected.
47
Rahner, pp. 373-74.
48 A situation of this sort would seem to me to be a contradiction of the entire purpose of obedience, and if the means which the Constitutions insist upon
are not being employed to ward off or correct such situations, one might legitimately ask if one is bound by the vow of obedience. After all, the religious life
receives the approbation of the Church because of the Constitutions of the given
religious order or congregation.
421
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
Obedience today
\Ve find in the Church today a keener awareness of the historical
dimensions of man's search for God, and God's continuing selfrevelation, jarring with the still dominant mentality of a rehtively
static and essentialistic and deductive understanding of God's relation to man. These two attitudes find their way into religious orders
also. The traditional mentality emphasizes corporate endeavors, a
hierarchical authority structure, and individual self-effacement, and
the commands of God are seen to be a sure way to find the will of
God. On the other hand, we find a much more personalistic approach
which places emphasis on individual responsibility, shared participation in making decisions, and a concern for the uniqueness of individual members. As a consequence the special charismatic qualities ofJhe authority-obedience process are brought into question.
Non-essentialistic, too, is Ignatius when writing about the Society.
His presupposition was that he could not be a priori about the
means which the Society was to use in the service of Christ. There
is nothing static about the Society as Ignatius conceived of it; it had
to be mobile, completely mobile.
1) Corporate endeavors were seen by Ignatius to be generally the
more effective means to service, but he certainly foresaw that occasions would arise when it would be more effective to have one man
~go off on his own, or that individuals would work independently of
one another; it was, as always, a matter of the magis. ' 9
2) A hierarchical authority structure was incorporated into the
Society, some form of which would seem to have to be present in
any corporate endeavor, as the-deliberations of the early Fathers of
the Society saw. 50 But the Ignatian authority was not God to general to provincial to rector to superior in a vertical pipeline arrangement; it also included a horizontal dimension which employed almost
every conceivable human means.
3) Individual responsibility was the entire rationale of the SpirCanst., 624.
The early Fathers of the Society, after they had taken their vow to go to
Jerusalem, and after that vow had fallen through, decided that the greater
service of God demanded that they corporately serve the Church. They also
decided that such a corporate commitment demanded that they give themselves in obedience to one of their number.
49
50
422
�SUPERIOR'S ROLE
itual Exercises: that the individual might be able to discern the will
of God in all matters. In any case, Ignatius would certainly want
every Jesuit to be constantly on the alert for the magis. This would
seem to be a rather deep form of individual responsibility.
4) All Jesuits were to share in the making of decisions, at least
to the extent that they were to keep the superior informed of everything, and to which the superior, always looking for the greater
service of God rather than his own egoistic desires, was to be completely open. Even democratic processes were not out of the picture,
as Ignatius' orders to the community at Candia indicate: the community was told to elect their superior since higher superiors felt the
community could determine this issue more effectivcly. 51
5) The spirit of Ignatius would rejoice at an increased awareness
of the uniqueness of individuals within the Society since he was so
conscious of the necessity to use every possible means in the service
of God, and so wary lest the superiors of the Society become narrow
minded in their approach to the apostolate. He would assume, again,
that all concerned were to serve God's will rather than their own,
and would have been happy to see unique approaches developing
because of unique individuals.
6) If Loyola saw any special charismatic qualities in the authority-obedience process, it was certainly in a modified sort of charism.
He saw that there would be bad commands and poor superiors, but
he structured into the Society means to make sure that the individual charism of the superior was not his own charism and was
open to the charism of the Spirit. Even with regard to the pope himself, Ignatius was in no way prepared to bow to him with respect to
his every wish. Ignatius makes it very clear that this fourth vow of
the professed was with respect to the places to which the Society
might be sent. 52 Nor was he ready to have his men respect the
Pope's desires with respect to special dignities, and expecially so
with regard to the general. The general could not accept an
Letters of St. Ignatius of Loyola, pp. 140ff.
In a footnote to the actual formula of the fourth vow, #527, Ignatius says:
"The entire meaning of this fourth vow of obedience to the Pope was and is
with regard to the missions." It seems clear then that although we may be an
Order dedicated to the Pope, still we do not owe obedience to the Pope in
every matter because of the vow.
51
52
423
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
ecclesiastical dignity without the approval of the entire Society, and
the entire Society was forbidden by the Constitutions to give this
approval unless the Pontiff compels the approval "by a precept
obliging under sin."53 In short, Ignatius was acutely aware of the
human weaknesses and shortcomings in every human being, and
any charisms superiors would have would not necessarily shine
through their shortcomings.
7) A flexible, creative way of meeting the changing apostolic
needs of the Kingdom was the rationale of the Society; God's will
would not be rigid and unchanging, and Ignatius only wanted that
the Society would be able to continue to meet such divine desires.
The Society of Jesus was founded because the Church needed a
religious order which would be mobile; juridically the Society is
mobile--at least as it exists on the pages of the Constitutions. Sociologically speaking, because of the temper of current thought, a
religious order must be mobile. I submit Ignatius was a man of our
times.
--
• 53
Canst., 771, 772, 786, and 788.
424
�SIMON FOUCHE, S.J.
missionary, educator, spiritual director
SR. M. LILLIANA OWENS, S.L.
SL\ION FouCHE, KENTUCKY FRO:\TTIER MISSIONARY, educator and
spiritual director, was born in Paris, France, on May 9, 1789. He lost
his parents at an early age, and Msgr. E. Maignan, his uncle, a
Catholic priest, assumed responsibility for young Fouche. The
French Revolution had just begun, Msgr. Maignan knew the danger
of it all, but he decided to remain at his post in Paris, serving the
people for whom he had been ordained priest. He knew full well,
were his identity discovered, he would be put to death. However, he
managed to keep himself concealed. He worked zealously for souls,
but being a prudent man, and in order to be less liable to discovery
by the officials, he changed his name, adopted a trade, took his sister
as his housekeeper, and introduced and registered her as his wife.
They took with them Simon Fouche, then four or five years of age,
who was designated by them as their child. 1
Fr. Simon Fouche's memories of the French Revolution were always very vivid. He loved to recall the civic dinners spread in the
streets of the city, of which everyone had to partake. He took great
1 Jardinis to Owens, S.L., September 24, 1966. Rev. Paulaclis Jardinis, S.J. is
stationed at College de Sainte-l\farie, l\fontreal ( 2) Canada. His letter, elated
September 24, 1966, contains material he gathered from archival sources at
this college. The author, a member of the Congregation of the Sisters of Loretto,
contacted the archivist at the College of Sainte Marie, Montreal, and received
this information as a reply.
425
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
pride in telling that his supposed father, Pere Maignan, belonged to
the National Guard, and often had to go on duty dressed in military
attire with musket. In spite of the grave dangers, and his military
duties, Pere Maignan said Mass, heard confessions, and administered
the sacraments to many, who remained good Christians, in the
midst of the most terrifying scenes.~
On one occasion he recalled how Pere }.Jaignan had given the last
sacraments to :Marie Antoinette the night before her execution.3 In
fact due to the careful management of his supposed wife, in reality,
as stated before, his sister, he obtained permission from the housekeeper of the Conciergerie, where the queen, Marie Antoinette, was
imprisoned, to enter her cell at night. Pere Maignan was not satisfied
with bringing the condemned queen the Holy Eucharist, which he
carefully concealed on his person, but persuaded two municipal
offi~ers charged with her care, to conduct him at midnight to her
cell. Here he read Mass for her and the guards charged with her
custody profited by the occasion to confess their sins and to receive
Holy Communion. 4
After his classical and theological studies young Fouche was
named teacher in the institution founded by Abbe Liotart, which
later became Le College Stanislaus still existing in Paris. 5 He was
ordained to the priesthood in 1816, a_nd remained in the same college
as spiritual director, or counsellor to the students.
In 1821 Abbe Liotart went to New Orleans, Louisiana, in the
United States and opened a college. Fr. Fouche accompanied him
and became a member of the faculty of this new college. Later, when
the New Orleans College wa~·destroyed by fire, Fr. Fouche, then a
diocesan priest, went to the :r"ie\v college organized by Bishop Benedict Joseph Flaget in Bardstown, Kentucky. According to B. J. Webb,
this must have been about 1822 or 1824. This same author gives his
memories of Fouche as follows:
2 B. J. Webb, Catholicity in Kentucky (Louisville: Rogers, 1884), p. 287. Cf.
also Anna Blanche ~lc Gill, S.C.N., The Sisters of Charity of Nazareth, (New
York: The Encyclopedia Press, 1917), pp. 34-35.
3 Webb, p. 390.
4 Pere ~laignan died Cure de St. Germaine I'Auxerreis at Paris. Cf. \Vebb,
p. 39; also WOODSTOCK LE'ITEHS 19 ( 1890) 124.
5 Jardinis to Owens, S.L., Sept. 24, 1966.
426
�FOUCHE
It must have been after 1822 and before 1825 that they (Father Simon
Fouche and Evremond Harrisart) appeared together as officials of . . .
the college. I know they were both attached to the Cathedral of St.
Joseph, serving at its altars, etc. They were both men of learning and
piety, and both exemp!ified in their manner of life the sacerdotal virtues
that became them as administrators of divine things. . . . they walked
the seminary lawn and recited the canonical office together, and together
they were associated in the minds of all, who had the happiness of knowing them. They were nothing, however, alike in their personal appearance .... Father Fouche was diminutive in stature. He was vivacious in
both action and speech, and he was altogether what is understood by the
term companionable.6
Bardstown
The ecclesiastical difficulties in New Orleans at this time were also
an added reason why several of the young clergymen sought admission into the Bardstown Diocese and other dioceses of the U.S.A. 7
In the summer of 1823 Fr. Fouche was incardinated into the Diocese
of Bardstown. Fouche knew very little English, so during the latter
part of 1823, 8 Bishop Benedict Joseph Flaget named him chaplain
to the Sisters of Charity of Nazareth, Kentucky, in order that he
might have the opportunity, while there, of perfecting his knowledge
of the English language. 9 Anna Blanche Me Gill says:
During the latter part of 1823, Nazareth enjoyed having as one of its
first chaplains, the Reverend Simon Fouche, who had lately arrived from
France. This priest was the nephew and ward of Pere E. 1\Iaignan, who
under the most dangerous circumstances had been confessor to Marie
Antoinette, during her imprisonment.l 0
While he was learning the English language he taught the frontier
children Christian doctrine, and it seems almost certain that he enWebb, p. 391.
David to Brute, Mar. 21, 1825, CAUA, N.D. John B. David was the coadjutor to Benedict Joseph Flaget, the first Bishop of the Diocese of Bardstown,
Kentucky. Simon Brute de Remur was first a member of the Sulpician Society,
and on l\1ay 6, 1834, when Pope Gregory XVI created the diocese of Vincennes
(Indiana), he was named its first Bishop.
8 J. Herman Schauinger, Cathedrals in the 'Wilderness, (Milwaukee: Bruce,
1952), p. 221.
9 Me Gill, pp. 34-35. Srs. Ellen and Harriet, S.C.N., were his instructors.
to 1\fc Gill, pp. 34-35.
6
7
427
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
couraged the study of French. 11
In the spring of 1820 Rev. Charles Nerinckx, one of the most
zealous frontier missionaries of the time, and the founder of the
Sisters of Loretto at the Foot of the Cross, went to Belgium soliciting funds for the Kentucky missions and recruits for the Society of
Jesus. Before leaving for this European trip he purchased, with the
money loaned him by the Sisters of Loretto, a plot of land from a
certain Mr. James RayP He named the new site ~It. Mary, 13 and
his plan was to establish here a vocational institute for the education
of boys. Fr. Charles Nerinckx left for Europe in March, 1820.
Rev. 'Villiam Byrne was named to replace him as pastor at St.
Charles and to act as the confessor of the Sisters of Loretto at the
11 Cf. U.S.A. (Loretto) Documents, 1808-1850, in Propaganda Fide Archives; Rome Italy. Also in microfilm at CAUA, N.D., Archives of the Archdiocese
of St. Louis, St. Louis, Missouri, and in the Archives of the Loretto ~lotherhouse,
Nerinx, Ky. The documents in the Propaganda Fide Archives carry folio numbers and volume numbers; in this they differ from the methods used in the U.S.
Cf. Finbar Kenneally, O.F.~I., United States Documents in the Propaganda
Fide Archives. First Series, vol. 1, pp. 947, 959, 964, for folio numbers to Simon
Fouche, S.J. (The Academy of American Franciscan History, Box 5850, Washington, D.C., 20014.)
12 Rev. Charles Nerinckx, a diocesan priest, was born on October 2, 1761 in
Brabant. He was ordained November 4, 1785, by Cardinal de Frankenburg,
Archbishop of ~lechlin. In 1797 the armies of the French Revolution reached
Belgium. Priests were required to take the oath of allegiance to the royalty or
go to prison. Fr. Nerinckx considered this oath contrary to the divine and moral
law and refused to take it. By so doing he became a hunted fugitive. As early
as 1800 he had considered volunteering for the missions in the USA. He realized
that his possibilities for exercising the priestly functions, for which he was ordained, were now not possible. Righ(Rev. John Carroll received him with open
arms and assigned him, eventually, to assist Rev. Theodore Badin on the
Kentucky frontier, where he became known as one of the foremost missionaries
in Kentucky. He soon saw the need for an order of religious women, who would
dedicate themselves to the cause of educating the children on the Kentucky
frontier. On April 25, 1812 he founded the first community of religious women,
without European affiliation, and gave them the name "Friends of ~lary under
the Cross of Jesus." Today this community is known as the Sisters of Loretto
at the Foot of the Cross. Cf. Camillus P. Maes, The Life of Reverend Charles
Nerinckx, \V. J. Howlett, The Life of Reverend Charles Nerinckx, and Anna C.
1\linogue, Loretto: Annals of a Century for further information about Fr.
Charles Nerinckx and the Sisters of Loretto at the Foot of the Cross.
13 \Valter Hill, S.J., "Reminiscences of St. Mary's College, Kentucky," wooDSTOCK LETTERS, 20 ( 1891) 29-30, 33.
428
�FOUCHE
Foot of the Cross. 14 Fr. Byrne had always been interested in education. He noted that the Sisters of Loretto had a flourishing school
for girls, but that there was no provision made for the education of
the boys. He relayed his ideas for a school for boys to Bishop Flaget,
suggesting that the property about a mile from the convent of the
Sisters of Loretto be used for this purpose. 15 Bishop Flaget, forgetting that this land was in the joint ownership of Fr. Charles
Nerinckx and the Sisters of Loretto, gave Fr. Byrne permission
to open the school. He immediately took possession of Mt. Mary and
began to take steps to organize the school for boys. \Vhen Fr. Nerinckx returned from Europe on December 21, 1821, he found Mt.
Mary had, with the permission of Bishop Flaget, become known as
St. Mary's Seminary. It had been Fr. Nerinckx's plan to see the
property at Mt. Mary become the home of a brotherhood, which
he hoped to found, which would later conduct the vocational institution he envisioned. Fr. Nerinckx knew that to open a school before
there were teachers prepared to conduct and manage it would be to
court ruin for the fine apostolic work. Soon this became evident. Fr.
Byrne's zeal and industry were sadly hampered by a lack of teachers. He had come to the Kentucky frontier from a more settled area
in the United States of America and was totally unaware of the
ignorance and incompetence, at this time, on the Kentucky frontier,
due to the lack of educational opportunities.
By August, 1827 Simon Fouche had become fairly conversant with
the English language and Fr. Byrne asked that he be assigned to
teaching duties at St. Mary's Seminary.16 At this time he was acting
as confessor and spiritual director to the Sisters of Loretto. He was
told by the Bishop to assume the new work but to retain the old.
The Sisters of Loretto were at this time ( 1827) living at St.
Stephen's farm, renamed Loretto after the Holy House of Loretto.
According to Rev. Walter Hill S.J.: "Father Fouche was confessor
14 Camillus P. Maes, The Life of Reverend Charles Nerinckx (Cincinnati,
1880), pp. 383, 384, 388, 389, 546.
15 Cf. WOODSTOCK LETTERS 20 ( 1891) 26; 1\Iaes, pp. 184--185.
16 David to Brute, Oct. 9, 1827, CAUA N.D. Cf. USA (Loretto) Documents,
1808-1850, Propaganda Fide Archives, Rome, Italy, for statements that Simon
Fouche was now a member of the Diocese of Bardstown, Ky.
429
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
here [Loretto Motherhouse] until the Jesuit fathers left St. Mary's
College [1846]." 17
St. Joseph's
As early as 18.29 Bishop Flaget offered St. Joseph's College at
Bardstown, Kentucky to the Society of Jesus in France. 18 However,
as time went on either they did not answer him, or as is probable, his
letter was lost. Accordingly Bishop Flaget began to make arrangements for St. Joseph's College. i\Iuch to tl~e Bishop's embarrassment
and surprise, at the beginning of 1831, four French Jesuits arrived
in the United States bound for Bardstown, Kentucky. They were Frs.
Peter Chazelle, Nicholas Petit, Peter Ladaviere and Bro. Come. They
reached New Orleans toward the end of February, 1831. They had
come to accept the invitation of Bishop Flaget to staff the St. Joseph's
College. When one recalls the method of mailing letters at this
time, on the frontier, the delay of this letter is easily understood.
When the group reached New Orleans they were given hospitality
by Bishop Leo De Neckere, C.i\1., and they remained with him until
the Lent of 1831. In the meantime Fr. Chazelle opened correspondence with Bishop Flaget about the school which he had invited
them to come to the U.S.A. to staff. In the Rrst letter he explained
the reason for their delay. Bishop Flaget was naturally very perturbed, as this place was no longer open to them. Yet he kindly invited them into his diocese. Fr. Ladaviere and Bro. Come remained
in New Orleans. They were the center round which the Society of
Jesus established themselves in Louisiana at Grand Couteau. Frs.
Chazelle and Petit proceeded_'to Bardstown to accept the Bishop's
invitation. Fr. Petit was a pri;s{who had had many years of experience in the missionary Reid and because of this he was given charge
of St. Charles parish, near the College, a position he held until the
French Jesuits left Kentucky in 1846. The two Jesuits rendered such
services as they could at St. Joseph's College, adjoining the seminary.
Bishop Flaget asked them to join him in a novena to St. Ignatius
Loyola to obtain through the saint's intercession a solution to this
very perplexing problem. During this novena Rev. \Villiam Byrne
Hill, pp. 25-37.
Gilbert J. Garraghan, S.J., jesuits in the Mit:Ulle United States (New
York: America Ptess. 1933), pp. 166,255,294.
17
18
430
�FOUCHE
had become very much discouraged with St. Mary's Seminary,19 and
he wrote to Bishop Flaget offering to make the seminary over to the
French Jesuits. This settled the matter, and at the end of the novena
Frs. Chazelle and Petit assumed charge of the seminary. This was
the summer of 1831, but there was still a hurdle to be cleared. The
Jesuits were of French extraction, and were, therefore, not proficient
in the English language. An added difficulty was that they little
understood the character of the boys on the Kentucky frontier. Fr.
Byrne consented to remain one more year as president. At the end
of that year they invited him to remain another year.
The number of Jesuits were few, but they entered upon their
duties with great energy, zeal and dedication. Some vocations sprung
up as a result, and recruits were added to their number. The first of
these was the young diocesan priest, Simon Fouche, who at this time
was director of the seminary. The second was Fr. Evremond Harrisart, superior at the seminary. They both made the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius under the direction of Fr. Chazelle in 1830. He
used the same inspired Exercises compiled by St. Ignatius three
hundred years before. Young Fr. Simon Fouche asked to enter the
Society of Jesus. This was on September 11, 1832. He could not
manage to leave his post at the College until September, 1833. 20
The Kentucky mission of the French Province could not boast of
a house of probation, so the Jesuits of the Maryland Province invited Fr. Chazelle to send his novices to White Marsh, Maryland.
Fr. Evremond Harrisart had no commitments to prevent his entering at once. He began his novitiate at the end of his retreat. In the
meantime Very Rev. Fr. John Roothan, S.J., General of the Society
of Jesus, decided to open a novitiate on the Kentucky frontier with
Fr. Chazelle, S.J., as master of novices. Prior to this decision Fr.
Fouche had entered the Society of Jesus and had made one year of
his novitiate at Fordham, New York. 21 As soon as the novitiate was
established in Kentucky, Frs. Harrisart and Fouche were invited to
return to this novitiate. After their period of training was completed
the two priests returned to St. Mary's Seminary. Both men were
professionally esteemed. Fr. Simon Fouche spent fifteen years as
Hill, p. 28.
"New York and Canada Missions," WOODSTOCK
21 Jardinis to Owens, Sept. 24, 1966.
19
20
431
LETTERS
1 ( 1872) 113.
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
professor of philosophy and mathematics at St. Mary's College.~~ He
also acted as procurator and spiritual director of the college. It is of
interest to quote from a page of the earliest Catalog of the Society
of Jesus in France. Among other things it states "Collegium Kentuckeinse ad S. Mari!lm et convictus" ineunte MDCCCXXXVI
P. Simon Fouc':e, Prof. ;\lath.; praefectus morum .. ." 2 ~
A revision of rules
Simon Fouche served as spiritual direc~or of the Sisters of Loretto
at the Foot of the Cross at their mothcrhouse from 1840 to 1846, the
year the Jesuits of the French Province left Kentucky. This has great
significance for t:~e Sisters of Loretto at f~e Foot of the Cross. Bishop
Guy Chabrat, during the administr.1tion of ~lather Isabella Clarke,
S.L.:'invitecl Sim:m Fouc~~e, S.J., to revise the Rules and ConstitutioJ1s· of the Sisters of Loretto.~• The decision to change the Rules
was made by Bishop Chabrat, without consultation with Fr. John
Timon, C.;\I., who bad been placed in charge of the Sisters of Loretto
in 1\Iissouri by Bishop Joseph Rosati, C.;\I. Since the Sisters of
Loretto were not a Pontifical Society at this time Bishop Guy Chabrat was not at liberty to take such a step without consulting either
Fr. Timon, C.;\I., or Bishop Rosati, C.:\I. Fr. Timon wrote to Bishop
Chabrat ar.d asked for an explanation of his action in this regard.~ 5
Bishop Chabrat replied that it was his intention to review the revised
~ Rules with Father Timon after the revision had been made. However, Bishop Flaget, realizing the delicacy of the matter, invited
Fr. Timon to come to the Loretto 1\Iotherhouse in August, 1840,
to visit with Hm. 26 Timon rep]ied that he would accept this invitation in the later summer of i840. He was in no way happy about
having the Rules revised under the supervision of Bishop Guy
Chabrat. As he promised, Fr. Timon went to Bardstown in late
Loc. cit.
Catalog of the Society of jesus, Province of France, 1836, p. 21. Cf. wooDSTOCK LETTEi;s 1 ( 1372 ), 124, for exce1pt from this catabgue.
" 4 Anna C. i\Iinogue, Loretto: Annals of a Century (New York: America
Press, 1912), p. 100.
2:> Timon t J Chabrat, 1840, CAUA, N.D. John Timon, C.M., was the first
Bishop of the Diocese of Buffalo.
26 Charles G. Deuther, Life and Times of john Timon, D.D., (Washington,
D.C.: privately published, 1870), p. 75.
~2
23
432
�FOUCHE
August, 1840, and together he and Bishop Flaget went to the
Loretto Motherhouse for the purpose of Fr. Timon's reading the
changes that had been made in the Rule of the Sisters of Loretto
and making a revision of the revision that had been made. The
complete history of this is set forth in the U.S. [Loretto] Documents
of the Propaganda Fide in the Propaganda Fide Archives, Rome,
Italy.
In 1846 the French Jesuits abandoned St. Mary's College and
went to Fordham University. Fr. Fouche was named Procurator and
he remained in this position for nine years. From 1856 to 1860 he
was assigned to St. Francis Xavier College in New York; this college
was then known as the Holy Name College. The change of names
occurred in November 25, 1850, when the Jesuit students of Holy
N arne took up residence in the new and comfortable building which
was named St. Francis Xavier College. 27 In making this transition
both the Jesuit College and the Jesuit Holy Name Church lost their
identity, and became known as St. Francis Xavier College and St.
Francis Xavier Church. 28 The enrollment at the College, at this time,
was about two hundred and £fty students. In the old records we
sometimes £nd Fr. Fouche registered as Simon a.nd again as Francis.
Montreal
In 1860 the growing college of Sainte-Marie in Montreal, Canada,
needed help. At the time Fr. Simon Fouche was in need of the crisp
Canadian air, due to an undiagnosed illness, which was bringing on
a progressive deafness. So he was chosen to go to the Canadian
College where his knowledge of French was a great asset. 29 However, the rapidly progressing deafness made it necessary for him to
leave his duties as professor. So complete was the deafness he was
unable even to hear confessions. In 1861 he was back at Fordham
University as assistant Procurator, and in 1864 he was Librarian at
St. Francis College and spiritual director of the community, a position which he held for six years. Two months before his death he
Jardinis to Owens, Sept. 24, 1966.
Cf. The Catholic Directory for these years; microfilm copies in Vatican
Film Library, Pius XII 1\femorial Library, St. Louis University, St. Louis,
Missouri.
29 Jardinis to Owens, S.L., Sept. 24, 1966.
27
28
433
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
returned to Fordham University, where he died on January 29, 1870.
According to a memorandum sent from Rev. Maurice A. Ahem, S.J.,
"He [Fr. Simon Fouche] spent some of his last years at St. Francis
Xavier College in New York City."30
The "House Diary" of St. John's College, Fordham states: "June
29 [1870] Solemn distribution of awards in the usual manner.... At
the eighth hour in the evening Reverend Father Fouche went to
sleep in the Lord, at the age of 81. A man who was very religious
and very lovable."31 According to this same source "Father Fouche
was buried on July 1 [1870]; many of the New York Fathers were
present." He is buried in the little cemetery on the Fordham campus
next to the Fordham University Church.
30
•31
Ahem to Owens, September 14, 1966.
Archives of St. John's College, Fordham University, New York, N.Y.
434
�THE JESUITS UNDER THE CZARS
to preserve the Society
DENIS DIRSCHERL,
S.J.
CANNONS BOOMED rN PoMBAL's PoRTUGAL while the ringing of bells
and jubilation throughout Europe welcomed Clement XIV's signing
of the brief Dominus Ac Redemptor which suppressed the Society
of Jesus in 1773. Anticipating the demise of the Jesuits, Voltaire rejoiced in saying that "once we have destroyed the Jesuits we shall
have the game in our hands." D'Alembert added: "The rest are nothing but Cossacks and Pandours, who will never stand firm against
our disciplined troops." On hearing of the actual suppression of the
Society, Voltaire laughed loudly and declared: "In twenty years there
will be nothing left of the Church."
In Rome the mood was quite different. Realizing that he had
succumbed to political blackmail, and thoroughly disturbed during
a fit of despair, Clement declared, "I have cut off my right hand."
The act by which the pope immobilized 23,000 Jesuits, their 800
residences, 700 colleges, and 300 missions, indeed, struck at the
heart of the Church. The Brief of July 21st had been long in coming,
for the Bourbon courts of France, Naples, Parma, and Spain had
constantly pressured and threatened Clement from the very beginning of his reign in 1769. Harassed and deeply troubled, the pope
finally surrendered to the intrigues of Charles III and his special
envoy Florida Blanca. ·with the help of another Franciscan,
Clement drafted the brief which "perpetually broke up and dissolved" the Society of Jesus:
435
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
We perceived that the Society of Jesus was no longer in a position to
produce those rich fruits and remarkable benefits on account of which it
was founded, approved and endowed with splendid privileges by so many
popes; in the future it appears to be quite impossible to preserve a true
and lasting peace within the Church so long as the Order exists. Guided
by these weighty considerations and compelled by other reasons, which
providence and the wise conduct of the whole Church suggest to us and
which we guard in our breast . . . we hereby suppress the Society of
Jesus after mature deliberations, with our infallible knowledge, and in the
fullness of our apostolic power. 1
By thus putting the Jesuits out of business with a few swipes of
the pen Pope Clement blackened his name to such an extent that the
entire. ,history of the papacy "can show no other example of such
craven. cowardice."2 Indeed, in the month following, when the Brief
came "into effect, the pope was deeply agitated, fainted, revived
again, and as he sank onto his couch exclaimed: "I am damned. My
home is Hell." 3
In spite of Dominus ac Redemptor, the Society did not cease to
function for a moment. The bulk of the Jesuits automatically became secular priests; in Austria and Germany they continued to live
and teach in their old schools under the supervision of diocesan
priests. And since the suppression was achieved by means of a brief
~instead of a papal bull, each state held an option on its promulgation. The bishops, furthermore, were not commanded to notify the
religious, but only recommended to do so.
Resistance crumbled
At first the order received soihe breathing room in many states because of stiff resistance to the brief, but eventually the resistance
crumbled. Poland held out from promulgating the brief for a lengthy
spell. Catholics in Switzerland sent a letter of protest to the pope.
Maria Theresa's Austria fought the issue before relenting to mounting pressure. The French hierarchy and clergy refused to accept the
act of Clement. The Archbishop of Paris, Christopher de Beaumont,
1 Friedrich Gontard, The Chair of Peter (New York: Holt, Rinehart and
Winston, 1964), p. 476.
2 Henri Daniel-Rops, The Church in the Eighteenth Century (New York:
E. P. Dutton, 1964), p. 218 .
• ·3 Gontard, p. 476.
436
�UNDER THE CZARS
who had been signaled out to promulgate the brief by the pope, refused. In a letter of April 24, 1774, he stated that the condemnation
involved merely personal judgment, that "the Brief which destroys
the Society of Jesus is nothing else than an isolated, private and
pernicious judgment, which does no honor to the tiara and is prejudicial to the glory of the Church and the growth and conservation
of the Orthodox Faith." 4
As a result of the suppression, new groups suddenly evolved
throughout Europe, dedicating themselves to the Constitutions of
Loyola as the "ex-Jesuits" regrouped in such communities as the
"Society of the Heart of Jesus" which spread into Austria as well as
the "Society of the Faith of Jesus" which extended into Austria, England, Holland, and Switzerland in spite of severe handicaps presented by bizarre leaders and circumstances.
But it was mainly to Protestant Prussia and Orthodox Russia that
the Society owed its reprieve. Frederick II committed himself to
protecting the religious orders, especially upon his annexation of the
Silesian Province from Austria in the Seven Years' 'Var. As he expressed his position, "since I am regarded as a heretic, the Holy
Father can absolve me neither from keeping my promise nor from
behaving as an honorable man and king."3 Quite frankly Frederick
was glad to have the Jesuits as teachers; otherwise he would have
had to engage paid teachers to replace them. Nevertheless Frederick
expressed true admiration for the order and was quick to acknowledge the talents of the Jesuits. In answering a criticism of Voltaire
this respect is revealed: "There is not in our country a single learnd
Catholic except among the Jesuits. 'Ve had no one capable of conducting the schools. It was, therefore, necessary either to retain the
Jesuits or to allow education to fall into decay." 6
More than any other reason or circumstance the Society owed the
recouping of its strength and resources to Catherine the Great.
When Catherine partitioned Poland in 1772 she thereby acquired
territory surrounding Polotsk, Vitebsk, and Mogilev, including a
4 Thomas Campbell, S.J., The Jesuits (1534-1921) (New York: The Encyclopedia Press, 1921 ), p. 590.
5 Rene Fulop-Miller, The Power and Secret of the Jesuits (New York: Viking
Press, 1930), p. 385.
6 J. M. S. Daurignac, History of the Society of Jesus (Cincinnati: John P.
Walsh, 1865), II, p. 195.
437
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
considerable Roman Catholic population. The Empress was particularly anxious to keep the Jesuits in their old schools and residences
to preserve their educational endeavors. She also hoped that the
Jesuits' presence would aid in conciliating the disaffected provinces
that were annexed.
Previous activity
The Jesuits were no strangers to the policies and historical developments of the Russian Empire. Their activity reached back as
far as the sixteenth century in the person of the Jesuit diplomat
Antonio Possevino. Later was the Jesuit participation in the Union
of Brest in 1595-96 as well as the controversial and questionable role
that they played during the Russian "smuta" or "time of troubles."
\Vhil~ Peter the Great was embarking on his "westernization" of
Russia, he permitted a modest Jesuit activity in Moscow. But since
this permission was granted in good part through the gracious assistance of Peter's half-sister Sophia, the Jesuits were turned out
after her death. In 1691 they were invited back to administer a
church in Moscow. In 1719 as Peter grasped for full control over his
empire he once more expelled the Jesuits. In 1740 under Czarina
Anne, the Jesuits returned.
After the partition of Poland and the territorial incorporation into
the Russian Empire, the Jesuits were still officially banned in Russia.
Nevertheless, the Society was given free reign by Catherine in the
dependencies. Roughly two hundred Jesuits became her subjects.
One of Catherine's exotic plans was to incorporate the Poles into a
separate and independent Cathoi!c Church. Consequently she revoked the proscription of Peter the Great against the Society and
drew up working conditions for the Jesuits in the old Polish territories.
Under the new dispensation numerous privileges, including exemption from taxation, were extended to the Society. In return the
Jesuits were to administer the four colleges of Polotsk, Vitebsk,
Orsha, and Dunaberg along with several other residences and fourteen missions. The Jesuits were so pleased with the cordial relations
that they were confident that the Empress would not promulgate the
brief of suppression. Catherine was bound by her promise to be the
protector of the order. But in spite of these circumstances and while
438
�UNDER THE CZARS
expressing their deep gratitude to the Empress, the Jesuits requested
that she promulgate the brief and allow the Society to cease functioning:
It is to Your Majesty that we owe the privilege of professing publicly the
Roman Catholic Religion in your glorious states, and of depending in
spiritual matters on the Sovereign Pontiff who is the visible head of our
Church. That is the reason why we Jesuits, all of whom belong to the
Roman Rite, but who are most faithful subjects of Your Majesty, now
prostrate before your august imperial throne, implore Your Majesty by
all that is most sacred to permit us to render prompt and public obedience
to the authority which resides in the person of the Sovereign Roman
Pontiff and to execute the edict he has sent us abolishing our Society. By
condescending to have a public proclamation made of this Brief of Suppression, Your Majesty will thus exercise your royal authority, and we by
promptly obeying will show ourselves obedient both to Your Majesty and
to the Sovereign Pontiff who has ordered this proclamation. Such are the
sentiment and the prayers of all and each of the Jesuits .... 7
Catherine refused to heed the request of the Jesuits, and with the
cooperation of the Polish Bishop Stanislas Siestrzencewicz, she
founded the diocese of White Russia. The Empress also wrote and
obtained a decree from Rome dated June 7, 1774, allowing the
Jesuits to continue their work. In January 1776 Pius VI permitted
the Jesuits to accept new novices and take in fathers from other
provinces who were expelled because of the brief. And on August
9th of the same year the pope issued a decree empowering the
Bishop of Mogilev to exercise jurisdiction over the Jesuits in accordance with the wishes of Catherine. By this move of putting the responsibility on the shoulders of the Polish prelate, the pope hoped
to avoid the wrath and ill will of the European secular powers who
were still adamant on utterly exterminating the Society. Nevertheless, the papal nuncio at Warsaw, Archetti, continued to take it upon
himself to wage his own personal battle with the Bishop and the
Jesuits, fortunately to little avail.
Good will
Catherine set the pattern for other nobles and dignitaries of her
land by continuing to treat the Fathers with respect and good will,
taking opportunities to visit the Jesuit residences on occasions, as for
7
Campbell, p. 645.
439
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
instance in l\Iay 30, 1780, when along with her minister Potemkin
and a large retinue, she spent some time at the college in Polotsk.
There she \Vas graciously and cermoniously received after a tour
through the house and attendance at :\lass.
On the many occasions when the Jesuits \Vere questioned on how
they continued to function as an order, the same re:1dy reply was
always at hand: the people needed them, Catherine allowed it, and
with the knowledge and tacit consent of Rome. At the same time the
provincial let it be known that the Society was ready to relinquish
everything at the first authentic sign from the pope.
In a letter dated May 7, 1779, to Baron Grimm, an envoy at the
court of France, Catherine expressed her motive for continuing to
protect _the Jesuits:
Neither i nor my honorable rogues the Jesuits of \Vhite Russia are going
to cauS"e"'the Pope any worry. They are very submissive to him and want
to do only what he wishes. I suppose it is you who wrote the article in
the 'Gazette de Cologne' about the hot house (the Jesuit novitiate). You
say that I am amusing myself by being kind to them. Assuredly, you
credit me with a pretty motive, whereas I have no other than that of
keeping my word and seeking the public good.
In 1782 the Society in Russia weathered several new storms and
came off with an even stronger position. Partly through the influence
of a former Jesuit, the Canon Benislawski, Potemkin became a willIng benefactor to the Jesuits in their battles. Part of the new difficulties stemmed from the Polish prelate, Siestrzencewicz, who had become an Archbishop. There was some consternation among the
Jesuits that he would attempt to _take a stronger hand in influencing
the Society. To strengthen these fears, the papal nuncio, Archetti,
encouraged the Archbishop to take action. To thwart this possible
danger, the Jesuits decided to elect their own Vicar General. Thanks
to a ukase of June 23, 1782, the Empress stated that the fathers
should be subject to the Archbishop in those matters that pertained
to his jurisdiction or office but that he should not interfere with the
internal affairs of the Society.
Archbishop vs. Empress
Archbishop Siestrzencewicz was duly disturbed by this favor to
the order, and not realizing that the Jesuits had been favored
th~ough the intercession of Potemkin, he asked Prince \Viaziemski,
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�UNDER THE CZARS
then President of the Senate, to procure a decree from his body
subjecting the Jesuits to his wishes. The Senate so ruled, thus setting
them in opposition to the Empress and her minister Potemkin.
On October 10, 1782, the Jesuits elected Fr. Stanislas Czemiewicz
Vicar General of the Society who in tum named Fr. Francis Karen
Vice-Provincial. He then set out for St. Petersburg after being summoned there by Catherine. In the capital he was again reassured by
Catherine: "I defended you thus far, and will do so till the end." At
the same time Potemkin took the Archbishop to task for his meddling in the affairs of the Society and he was forced to modify his
views.
Now that the Society had settled upon a new General, opened
a novitiate and successfully settled affairs with the Archbishop and
the Empress, it had to deal with Rome, since the foregoing was accomplished with only the tacit consent of Pope Pius VI. Fr. Czemiewicz was detained in St. Petersburg for more than three months
discussing for much of the time the anticipated educational policies
with both Catherine and Potemkin. 1\'lore crucially, the new General
had to make arrangements in order to obtain the explicit approval
of Rome for the Jesuits' recent deliberations, chiefly the election of
a new superior. The order itself was a little apprehensive about
several of the expressions in the Acts of the Congregation, for instance, "the Brief of Clement XIV destroyed the Society outside of
Russia," and "the Vicar was elected by the authority of the Holy
See." The latter point was especially troublesome in that Archetti
considered the election illegal. Uncertainty about the reaction of
the Pope left some fear in the ranks of the Society.
To expedite these matters the Empress dispatched Fr. Benislawski
in 1783 as her envoy to Rome to negotiate with the Pope. She warned
him, moreover, not to modify the above decisions in any way. And
in his audience with Pius, Benislawski was to obtain three approbations: 1) the recognition of Siestrzencewicz as Archbishop, 2) the
appointment of Benislawski as his coadjutor, and 3) the approbation
of the Jesuits in White Russia, and especially the approval for the
election of the new General and approval of the Acts of the Congregation.
To fortify her case the Empress addressed a formal request to the
Pope indicating her motives for protecting the Jesuits:
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The motives for which I protect the Jesuits are founded on justice and
reason, and also on the hope that they will be of use in my dominions.
This Society of peaceful and innocent men continues to remain in my
empire because among all the Catholic bodies, they are the best fitted to
instruct my subjects, and to inspire them with sentiments of humanity
and with the true principles of Christianity. I am resolved to support
these priests against any power whatsoever, and in doing so I only fulfill
my duty; for I am their sovereign, and I regard them as faithful, innocent,
and useful subjects. 8
Benislawski arrived in Rome on February 21, 1783, and met with the
Pope on the same day. After a few inquiries, all his requests met
with the Pope's approval.
A second audience
a
At. second audience the mood of the pope was decidedly different. i~ the meantime Bourbon envoys had influenced a negative
reaction to Benislawski's requests. Recognizing the change, Benislawski dropped to his knees as if prepared to leave and asked for the
pope's blessing. When the Pope inquired into the meaning of this
sudden act, he was informed: "My orders are to withdraw immediately, if my requests are not granted."9 Pius was so startled that he
asked Benislawski to put his requests in writing.
Catherine's envoy spent the night drawing up the tract, anticipat- ing the possible objections of the enemies of the Society and countering them with his own arguments. The thrust of his major argument
suggested that
the failure of the bishop to abolish the Society in Russia, the establishment of the novitiate, and the ele~tion of the General were all due to the
explicit and positive orders of Cath-erine. As she had threatened to persecute the Catholics of Russia and to compel the Poles to enter the Orthodox
Church, it was clear that there was no choice but to submit to her demands.10
Benislawski argued that in case the Bourbon powers objected to
the protection of the Society by Catherine, this could be countered
by the fact that Catherine did not disapprove of their promulgation
8 Barbara Neave, The Jesuits: Their Foundation and Histonj (New York:
Benziger Brothers, 1879), II, pp. 280-1.
9
Campbell, p. 655.
, 10 Ibid.
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�UNDER THE CZARS
of the brief in their own lands. Also, the approval of the order was
no reflection on the pope since he did not abolish the Society and
had full rights to reverse the opinion of his predecessor. Moreover,
the brief was never promulgated in Russia to begin with. The Empress' envoy also conveyed the solemn promise that if everything was
settled properly Catherine would not harm the Catholics in her
domain and that she felt that she could not inflict any greater harm
than depriving her subjects of the services of the Jesuits whom she
considered "invaluable."
In case the objection was raised that all these "machinations" were
perpetrated at the instigation of the Jesuits, Benislawski was re::tdy
to remind the pope that the Jesuits themselves had petitioned the
Empress to promulgate the papal brief. On the following day the
pope read the requests and with a smile on his face said, "You want
to arrange this matter by a debate with me. But there can be no
answer to your contention. Your arguments are irrefutable." 11 And
then in the presence of some Cardinals the Pontiff gave his verbal
consent to the recognition of the Archbishop, the consecration of
Benislawski, and as to the third question, raising his voice, he said:
"Approbo Societatem Jesu in Alba Russia degentem; approbo, approbo."1~
With their legal status thus established, the Jesuits continued the
educational reforms that Catherine asked for in her schools, chief of
which was the introduction of the physical sciences. Fr. Gruber
complied by founding a training school for the preparation of future
instructors and professors.
To the very end of her rule in 1796 Catherine remained cordial
and just to the Society in Russia. Moreover, she engaged the Jesuit
Fr. Gruber to tutor her son and next Czar, Paul. Times of prosperity
were thus insured for the Society under Paul who ruled from 17961801. Besides the benefit of a personal interview with Pope Pius VI,
Czar Paul was gracious to the Society in large part because of Fr.
Gruber, a truly outstanding man, gifted in the technical sciences,
engineering, chemistry, mechanics, architecture, painting as well as
linguistic ability in French, German, Italian, and Russian. Indeed,
much of the success of the Society was attributed to this one Jesuit
11
12
Campbell, p. 656.
Ibid.
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who helped spearhead educational reforms in Russia. And from
1802-1805 until he was burned to death in his residence at St. Petersburg, Fr. Gruber served as General of the Society.
Under Paul
Under Paul the Society was permitted to expand and enlarge its
colleges and novitiate, and serve at the University of Vilna. The relationship between Fr. Gruber and Czar Paul was so cordial that the
Jesuit was reported to be able to procure almost any favor from him.
Gruber even importuned Paul to intercede with the newly elected
Pius VII to officially recognize the Society in Russia, heretofore
existing on the non-promulgation of the rulers of Russia and the
verbal consent of Pius VI. On August 11, 1800, Paul asked Pius to
revoke the decree of Clement and officially establish the Society once
mor~ ..
The Reverend Father Gruber, the superior of the Jesuits in my states, has
expressed to me the wish of the members of the Society of Jesus that I
might obtain from Your Holiness their public recognition. I believe that
I ought not to hesitate from such a duty, to beg for this order, for which
I hold a special predilection, the explicit approval of Your Holiness.
The affirmative reply to Paul's letter came by way of the papal
bull, Catlwlicae Fidei, on March 7, 1801, just several weeks before
the assassination of the Emperor. Thus under Paul the Society was
~able to take the first important step towards its full restoration which
came thirteen years later. After Paul's death Fr. Gruber persuaded
the new Czar, Alexander I, to publish the bull of Pius VII.
In spite of these successes in Russia and though the Society began
to recover some of its old streii~h and even extend itself along the
Volga and into faraway Astrakhan and the Caucasus, conditions
turned for the worse in Russia. Alexander became unpredictable,
and when the new Father General (Brzozowski) was invited to
Rome in 1814 to receive in person the bull of restoration, Sollicitudo
Omnium Ecclesiarum, he was refused permission to leave Russia.
This maneuver was an omen of worse things to come. And due to
petty misunderstandings, bizarre notions, and plain power politics,
Alexander issued a ukase dated December 25, 1815, proclaiming the
expulsion of the Jesuits from Russia. The Jesuits were then restricted to the confines of White Russia. And on March 13, 1820,
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�UNDER THE CZARS
with the death of General Brzozowski and the prospect that succeedin generals were to reside in Rome, Alexander extended his 1815
ban to include banishment from the entire Russian Empire. It was
plain enough; the Jesuits were attracting too many Orthodox converts to Catholicism.
Thus for roughly half a century the three Czarist rulers played a
crucial role in helping to preserve the Society. In large measure, it
is clear, these rulers pledged themselves to protecting the Jesuits out
of mere political expediency and for their own useful purposes albeit
with true admiration for the talents and efficiency of the order. But
when the Jesuits became too useful for their own good, they were
expelled from the Russian Empire, indeed, with surprisingly little
rancor and hostility.
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�DISCERNMENT AS A POLITICAL PROBLEM
the Ignatian art of government
MICHAEL SHEERAN, S.J.
You ARE PROVINCIAL of your province of the Society of Jesus. The
figures on your desk make it clear that the supply of manpower is
steadily falling off and will continue to do so for at least the next five
years. The alternatives are two: continue to operate all present
schools, relying on an increasing number of laymen and increased
tuition to keep them going or withdraw entirely from some schools
to be able to maintain the current number of Jesuits and current
tuition in the others.
Let us suppose for the sake of the example that neither option has
overwhelming evidence on its side. But this is a major decision involving the lives of a large number of people. What procedure
would you follow in reaching a .decision?
It is the goal of this paper to outline a possible approach to such
situations. vVe will look first at the process of personal discernment
of spirits in the Ignatian tradition. Then we will explore a possible
application of discernment to group decision-making. We will suggest that such corporate discernment is not only consistent with the
governmental structure of the Society of Jesus but even is the ordinary governmental method intended by Ignatius.
Principles and prescriptions
To achieve perspective, let us briefly trace the development of a
concept akin to discernment, human prudence. For Plato, the human
w.orld was an imperfect mirror of the real universe. The supreme
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�DISCERNMENT
characteristic of this ideal universe was its complete intelligibility.
To live rightly, man had only to deduce from the perfect world the
principles which applied to his current situation. In every situation
there was a single right solution: only ignorance hindered man's
perfect acting out of the principles which covered his situation. In
his political philosophy, therefore, Plato opted for a government by
the men who were most adept at making deductions from the ideal
world, the philosophers. 1
Aristotle replaced the Platonic ideal universe by positing a nature
within each being, thus retaining the Platonic premise that objective
principles applicable to given situations can be deduced from a
knowledge of the nature of each of the beings in the situation. He
was much more ready than Plato, however, to admit that it is sometimes impossible to completely know tl1e situation-either through
complexity or ineptitude-and that a gap can therefore be expected
to exist between the principles one can adduce and the fullness of
the reality contained in the situation.
To meet this gap, Aristotle introduced prudence, the ability to
choose well between options when reason fails to provide criteria
for the choice. We will not try to follow the historical development
of this concept, but do wish to underscore from the beginning that
prudence is by definition a quality which excels mere rationality,
which is operative precisely when rational deliberation is inadequate
to deal with a situation. 2
Aquinas introduced a radically new dimension. By positing the
analogy of being, he was affirming that a concrete existent is more
than can be expressed in formal statements, that man's uniqueness
cannot be dismissed as the negative limitation (prime matter) which
individuates his essence (substantial form). We can thus know more
about a man than we can verbalize. His precise personal dignity is a
1 We are concerned here with the thrust of the political writings in particular.
Generally, Plato ignores the possibility of a situation not capable of fully
rational solution. Curiously, the Daimonon of Apology. 40. A-C is the closest
approximation to Ignatius's discernment for the first time of making an election
that the writer has encountered in philosophical works.
2 Again, our interest is in a part of the total picture. Aristotle uses "prudence"
in a much wider sense than we describe here; his inclusion of the sense we
describe is significant. Cf. Nichomachean Ethics. VI, v, 6; VI, vii, 7.
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positive quality which cannot be fully captured in any group of
abstractions. 3
The conclusion following from this new dimension is important:
any concrete individual man has both formal and individual characteristics. He therefore is subject to two kinds of obligations: first,
those that can be deduced from rational consideration of his formal
nature and t:1e natures of the beings he encounters in a given situation. Secm1d, those that derive from his unique personal character
but which, being concrete, are n:::t subject to formal rational processes involv~ng abstra~tion, univocal reasoning, etc. Tl:e former
obligations we arbitnrily dub, "principles," the latter, "prescriptions." Karl RaLner writes, "On Thomistic principles, then, with the
best w~ll in the world, one cannot deny on principle that there can
be individual prescriptive norms which are in the proper sense
unique." 4
One key difference
It is important to underscore one key difference between this approach and situationism. In situation ethics, the individual element
can conflict with and override the abstract principle which applies.
The Thomistic presentation, however, begins with the principle of
the unity of the individual. Hence it is contradictory to posit prescriptions which would contravene applicable principles; for this is
~tantamount to asserting that the individual's nature is opposed to
his personal quality, i.e., that he is not a unity. Prescriptions thus
come into play only when principles do not adequately delineate the
appropriate action in a given situation, and no avenue of conduct
can be justifiEd as prescription~ if it contradicts a principle.
\Ve can sum up prudence, then, as the ability to reach correct
prescriptions. It is employed when the issue is too complex to
weigh all principles accurately (Aristotle's explanation), 5 or when
it is impossible to solve problems with moral principles because the
situation is larger than the principles ( Thomism' s addition).
With all this as preparation, we have hopefully equipped the
reader to readily comprehend the meaning of our primary interest,
3 Karl Raimer, S.J. The Dynamic Element In The Church (New York:
Herder and Herder, 1964), p. 16.
4 Ibid., p. 17 .
•5 Ibid., pp. 28-29.
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�DISCERNMENT
discernment. Discernment is simply the supernatural equivalent ofJ
prudence. It is the capacity to discover the concrete divine will in a
given situation in which reason (principles) does not make that
divine will clear.
There is really no reason to prove that such discernment is possible. The experience of Christian men through the centuries leaves
little doubt that such discernment is a reliable, if difficult, procedure.
It is our job rather to do two things: first, we must describe the kind
of problem that requires discernment; then we must indicate as best
we can how discernment, both individual and corporate, operates.
Hopefully, this section has achieved the first of these goals. If so,
the implications of the following summary statement will be clear:
\Vhat God wishes to be done in certain given circumstances cannot be
logically and unequivocally deduced from the general principles of dogma
and morals, even with the help of an analysis of the given situation. Such
theoretical considerations may delimit the sphere of the correct and appropriate human action (in many cases to such an extent that it will be
clear in practice what should be done) and therefore will always be
necessary. Nevertheless, they are fundamentally incapable of determining
which of the various decisions within this sphere is in fact the one God
wills at this moment, and how this one can be found. 6
What is discernment? -
(A) The first week of the exercises: removing inordinate affections
which tempt us not to follow objective truths. The lazy mind all too
easily gives up the conscientious search for applicable principles and
asks prescriptions to do what they ought not do: take the place of
applicable principles. If honest discernment is to be achieved, therefore, the first step, the use of reason, cannot be bypassed. St. Ignatius
observes that the chief impediment to the use of reason is a man's
emotional attachments, fears, acquisitiveness, etc. These attachments are so many potential short-circuits which prevent honest
reasoning. His immediate goal, therefore, is that "no decision is made
under the influence of any inordinate attachment." 7
6 Karl Rahner, S.J. Visions And Prophecies (New York: Herder and Herder,
1963), p. 26.
7 Louis J. Puhl, S.J., trans. The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius (Westminster, Md.: Newman, 1957), 21. All English translations of the Exercises will
be taken from this translation.
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The process of eliminating inordinate attachments has something
in common with the sort of discernment which corresponds to prudence: both deal with non-rational human responses to a decisionmaking situation. Because of this relationship and because the two
processes are often intertwined, Ignatius chooses to describe both
as "discernment," although he honors their distinction by speaking
of a discernment "more suited to the first week"8 and a discernment
"more suitable for the second."9 The Rules for Discernment in the
first week tend generally to discernment in the broad sense: clearing
away inordinate affections impeding the use of reason. Ignatius's
examples in this group rather clearly presuppose that the person is
dealing with temptations not to do what is known to be objectively
right. His examples build around the attempt to free oneself from
mortah;in,10 the vulnerability of a man who loses courage in face of
clear temptations 11 or who hides clear temptations from his confessor.12 Other paragraphs in these rules, of course, are equally
applicable to both first and second week. But within the context of
the Rules for the First Week taken alone, these paragraphs are
applied by Ignatius to the prime task of the first week, discernment
in the broad sense, the elimination of obstacles to honest reasoning.
(B) The second week of the exercises: discernment in the narrow
sense-finding goas concrete will when more than one course of
action is legitimate. Discernment in the narrower sense, the choice
among equally reasonable options, is reserved by Ignatius to the
second week. These Rules for the Second \Veek are not to be proposed to individuals who are unable to control their obviously immoral attachments, 13 but should -lJe introduced when their affections
are in order and they are already choosing among options they see
as good, i.e., reasonable. 14 The general concern of the Rules for the
First Week, then, is principles, that of the Rules for the Second
Week, prescriptions.15
s SpEx, 313.
SpEx, 328.
1o SpEx, 314-315.
11 SpEx, 325.
12 SpEx, 326.
13 SpEx, 9.
14 SpEx, 10, 170.
l5 K. Rahner, Dynamic, p. 131.
9
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�DISCERNMENT
Admittedly, no one ever completely eliminates the tendency of
disordered affections to cloud reason. In the second week, therefore,
discernment in the broad sense is still very much operative, even if
the main thrust is to the prescriptions of discernment in the narrow
sense.
Roustang
\Ve emphasize this point because the relative importance of these
two very different elements helps to explain significant differences
in the explanations of the discernment process of the second week
which reputable spiritual writers offer. Roustang, for example, seems
to see few situations in which reason, if freed from inordinate attachments, would be unable to solve problems with principles alone. He
is at his best when advising on how subtle attachments can color our
rational analysis. But he seems to let his viewpoint overshadow
some basic Ignatian teachings. So suspect does Roustang find
Ignatius's first time of making an election (when there is such certitude that one has neither hesitation about whether God is speaking
nor "the possibility of hesitation"16 ), that Roustang warns: "The
divine intervention ... takes place at such a depth that we will never
perhaps be able to realize it except in its consequences." 17
Concerning the second time for making an election (when motion
of the spirits is used to find God's will), Roustang is especially helpful in suggesting that a check on one's discernment is whether the
action would make mankind grow because the choice "respects the
laws of things and beings"; 18 and he strongly counsels delay in making decisions to allow for reflection, for reasoning. 19 But again, he
is deficient in that his suggested norm only tells whether the option
is consistent with principles. Nowhere does Roustang suggest how
one might get at prescriptions. Even his most detailed descriptions
of the process of discernment are reducible to bringing one's emotions into harmony with the already determined (rationally) right
course of action. 20
SpEx, 175.
Francois Roustang, S.J, Growth In the Spirit (New York: Sheed and
Ward, 1966), p. 130.
18 Ibid., p. 139.
19 Ibid., p. 140.
20 Ibid., pp. 131-132.
16
17
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Roustang's advice on discernment, then, is excellent for the
practitioner of the first week; it lacks the positive sort of discernment
between two objective goods which is the heart of the second week.
In short, he fails to take into account that concrete situations surpass
the objective norms which apply to them.
If we are to beware Roustang's approach, then, how are we to
proceed? \Vhen reason reveals only that various options are praiseworthy, how do we find which option is God's vocation to us?
Ignatius's three times of making an election 21 and his rules for discernment for the second week 22 are not very clear about the heart
of the process which is involved. The present writer will therefore
rely on Karl Rahner's presentation and ask the reader to make up his
own mind whether the explanation is helpful by comparing it with
his owii·religious experience.
Openness and horizon
( 1) The core experience: We begin by turning to an experience
that each of us has had in one form or another. Recall any of the
moments when you equivalently threw open your arms before God,
when you experienced yourself as totally his, as simply and completely at his disposal. You were at peace, tranquil, felt a sense of
harmony. More important, if you reflect carefully on the event, you
recall the complete confidence that your experience was a valid one.
At the moment of the event, there was no doubt: the loving God to
whom you were open was really present to you, accepting your
offering of yourself and, in the encounter, bringing you peace.
It is not important here whetlier you went through a process of
reasoning prior to the experience; the key issue is that, whatever the
circumstances, at the time you experienced this most basic openness
to the loving God. Such experience, either directly of God or
mediated through the life of Christ, is the bed rock upon which all
discernment builds. Ignatius comments:
During the exercises of the Election, the exercitant should not direct his
attention simply to the movement of spirits going on within him, but
rather to the love of God which both precedes and accompanies all move21
SpEx, 175-178.
3281£.
2; SpEx,
452
�DISCERNMENT
ments of soul-and he will do this by continuing to contemplate the
mysteries of the life of Christ. 23
At the risk of being overly abstract, we may briefly summarize in
technical terminology Rahner's explanation of the nature of this core
experience of openness to God by saying that God is here experienced as the horizon of our knowledge and love, the non-conceptualizable concrete transcendent which forms a background of "light"
in front of which every conceptual (and therefore created) object
stands illumined. 24
This event, unlike conceptual knowledge of God, is experienced as
not capable of being deceptive:
It is plainly the case that such an experience bears its own warrant, that
regarded purely in itself, it cannot deceive and that in it God himself is
present and nothing else can be. . . . Because [the experience] is the
condition of the possibility of all cognition, it is without error, and is the
ultimate certitude.25
Concrete perception
( 2) The first time of making an election: "When God our Lord
so moves and attracts the will that a devout soul without hesitation,
or the possibility of hesitation, follows what has been manifested to
it. St. Paul and St. Matthew acted thus in following Christ our
Lord."26 We have just discussed the core experience which underlies Ignatian discernment. The first time of making an election occurs
when one discovers the core experience to be indissolubly linked
with a concrete option. One apprehends the transcendent to whom
he is fully open as concretized in the particular option before him.
There is no reasoning. The openness to God is a non-conceptual
event. The option, because particularized, is also apprehended nonconceptually, i.e., as concrete, not under its universal notes. "The
experience [of transcendence], by a decisive influence of God, finds
concrete expression in the proposition, judgment, precept, and so on
23 Hugo Hahner, S.J. Ignatius the Theologian (New York: Herder and
Herder, 1968), p. 146. This is apparently a paraphrase of a remark in the
official Directory, XXX, 3 ( p. 717).
24 K. Hahner, Dynamic, p. 145.
25 Ibid., pp. 148-149.
26 SpEx, 175.
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of the predicamental order."~ 7 The first time adds to the core experience, therefore, a concrete option which is apprehended as expressing the core experience.
This, of course, sounds extremely subtle, and therefore we tend to
think it is not for us. It is well to remember that this first mode of
making an election was fairly common among ordinary early
Jesuits.~ 8 In addition, the characteristically Jesuit practice of finding
God in all things seems to grow directly from the basic experience
of the first time of making an election: each person or thing I encounter becomes the object through which I move to the horizon.~ 9
For in this joining of concrete object with transcendent horizon, we
have the "pure non-conceptual light of the consolation of the whole
human person who is being drawn above and beyond all that can be
named ipto the love of God."30
The reason, of course, why it is so hard to communicate what goes
on is that we feel forced to employ such terms as, "horizon," "transcendent," "non-conceptual," etc. These terms are useful in reminding us that, although the process is non-rational, it is nonetheless
intellectual. Ignatius preferred to speak analogically, referring in his
writings to such an event in the terms of sense-level activity. This
tends to be particularly useful since intellectual non-conceptual joy
tends to be accompanied by sense-level joyful emotions, etc. It is
also dangerous, of course, if one has not learned to differentiate
between the two related kinds of experience. Ignatius's description
of the first time of election illustrates his predilection for sense-level
terminology:
There still remains for us to speak of .\vhat we are to think of those things
the direct origin of which from God- \~e interiorly perceive, and how we
are to use them. It frequently happens that the Lord himself moves our
soul and constrains us as it were to this or that action by making our soul
wide open. That is to say, he begins to speak within us without any sound
of words [\Vords are the sense-level equivalent of concepts.], he draws
up the soul wholly to his love and gives us a sense of himself, so that even
if we wished, we could not resist.Bl
27
K. Rahner, Dynamic, p. 159, n.
H. Rahner, Ignatius, p. 145.
K. Rahner, Dynamic, pp. 155-156.
3o Ibid., p. 137.
31 1\fonumenta Ignatiana I, 105; quoted in K. Rahner, Dynamic, p. 152.
28
29
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�DISCERNMENT
To clarify our point, we turn to Hugo Rahner's analysis of Ignatian
use of "sentire." This key word has "nothing to do with any emotional, let alone sensual impressions; it is a completely intellectual
mode of cognition, though it is certainly higher than discursive
reasoning and must be ranked among the 'spiritual senses.' "32 If anything, Hugo Rahner overstates his case here, ruling out any senselevel concomitants of the primarily intellectual "sentire." 33
One final clarification. Ignatius's suggestion that the knowledge of
the first mode of election is "without cause" has been often interpreted as meaning that the consolation arises very suddenly. Particularly in our day, when the powers of the subconscious are known
and respected, this kind of norm is suspect. Karl Raimer urges that
the lack of cause be taken as pointing to the peculiar non-conceptuality of the perception of God as horizon. Since knowledge derived
from a created source must involve concepts, no creature can be
perceived as horizon of knowledge. This avoids the objection and,
more importantly, underscores the Ignatian criterion for validity:
there can be no doubt; the unique knowledge is self-validating. 34
( 3) The second time of making an election: "When much light
and understanding are derived through experience of desolations
and consolations and discernment of diverse spirits.''33 An election in
the second time is not blessed with the certitude of the first time, but
shares with it the characteristic that no reasoning is involved. One
begins by either renewing his experience of openness to God or, if
that proves impossible, by recalling it. He concentrates on how he
feels in that situation, on the peace, harmony, tranquillity which
accompany the event. It is important to recall that we mean what
we say. Peace, harmony, tranquillity are the keys. The sweep of
emotional joy or deep sadness which may also accompany this submission to God are not to be confused with the basic, primarily intellectual, sense of peace. 36
H. Rahner, Ignatius, p. 147.
Cf. John Futrell, S.J . .Making an Apostolic Community of Love: The Role
of the Superior According to St. Ignatius Loyola (Unpublished Doctoral Dissertation, n.d.) I, 294-296. Futrell provides a much broader view than Rahner.
34 K. Rahner, Dynamic, pp. 141-2, 149.
32
33
35
SpEx, 176.
36
H. Rahner, Ignatius, p. 152 cites five marks of the presence of divine con-
455
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
One then considers each of the options open to him. He projects
himself into the possible situations, then assesses his reactions. He
looks, in each option, for something of the peace and tranquillity of
the central eJ.:perience of openness. Over and over again he considers
the options, letting time intervene between examinations and carefully distinguishing such transient sensibilia as happiness or sorrow
from the basic sense of harmony which may accompany them. Karl
Rahner suggests, "The experiencia[ 371 of the second mode of election
is a 'trial,' an experimenting at one's own risk and peril, whether and
how the central religious experience coheres with such and such
limited, predicamental objects."38
It is important to remember the trial and error which characterize
this mode of discernment. Roustang comments, "No criterion enables
us to recognize with certainty, at any given moment, the origin of a
particular scntiment.''39 Rahner's capsule explanation of the second
time, 'being consoled on account of a certain defined limited
object," 40 is therefore correct, but one must take ''being consoled" to
mean experiencing movements of soul accompanied by peace, tranquillity, harmony rather than to take consolation as we often do in
the sense of any happiness or enthusiasm. 41
The second time of election, then, is an operation "sine ratiociniis"42; it is the "logic of concrete particulars." 43 And it begins with
so)';tion which are listed in the Directorium Autographum II: interior peace,
spiritual joy, hope and faith and charity, tears, elevation of mind. In SpEx, 336,
Ignatius adds "warmth and favor." In 333, one finds a much narrower usage,
"peace, tranquillity, and quiet." In light of the danger of confusing sense-level
aspects of consolation with intellectual.,t~nsolation, we have preferred to limit
ourselves to the usage of # 333 since these terms are somewhat easier to disengage from sense experience than, e.g., "elevation of mind" or "warmth and
favor." Since "quiet" often connotes that nothing is happening in our culture,
we have chosen the parallel but more dynamic term, "harmony" to express it
more accurately to our generation. Curiously, Karl Rahner seems to have a
predilection for this term. Cf. Dynamic, pp. 150, n.; 158; 166.
37 SpEx, 176.
38 K. Rahner, Dynamic, p. 159 note.
39 Roustang, Growth, p. 100.
40 K. Rahner, Dynamic, p. 137.
41 Cf. SpEx, 316.
42 H. Rahner, Ignatius, p. 146.
43 K. Rahner, Dynamic, p. 142.
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�DISCERNMENT
the central experience of "love for God which has inspired all these
movements within [the person] in the first place."44
A substitute
( 4) The third time of making an election: ''This is a time of
tranquillity. One considers first for what purpose man is born . ...
·with the desire to attain this before his mind, he chooses as a means
to this end a kind of life ... within the bounds of the Church that
will be a help in the service of his Lord and for the salvation of his
soul."45 We note that this method is definitely a substitute in the eyes
of Ignatius. 46 The person must be satisfied to find an option which
will be "a help" in serving God; 47 he has no right to expect to discover
the best concrete option. However Ignatius does attempt to make the
best of a difficult situation with his two suggested procedures for
making a choice in the third time. The first of these seeks to reason
carefully to be sure the weightier principles, if there are any, are accepted.48 The second suggestion is that the individual use his imagination to project himself into concrete situations where he can
size up the choices on more than the rational level. The devices of
pretending to advise a stranger, 49 pretending it is the moment of
death 50 or that I stand before God my judge 51 are really so many
helpful techniques for turning the third time of election into a form
of the second. 5 2 If the individual successfully enters those situations,
there is hope that "the congruence [between fundamental attitude of
openness to God and particular decision] is to be understood as
experienced by the exercitant, not as estimated by deliberate evaluation with the object as the starting point." 53 In other words, we reach
our conclusion because we feel peace in it, not because it is merely
reasonable. It was in this sense that Davila, an early commentator,
44 H. Rahner, Ignatius, p. 153.
SpEx, 177.
H. Rahner, Ignatius, p. 145.
47 SpEx, 177.
48 SpEx, 182.
49 SpEx, 185.
nO SpEx, 186.
51 SpEx, 187.
52 K. Rahner, Dynamic, p. 161 n.
53 Ibid., p. 163.
45
46
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
remarked that the third time is "illuminated and ratified by influences from the Second Time."54
Taken alone, then, the third time is most suspicious and unsatisfactory to Ignatius.5'' At best, the third time is "a deficient form of
the Second.''56
( 5) What are the "spirits" we are discerning? A standard objection of contemporary man can now be dealt with. Must one posit
divers spirits or spiritual influences behind each of the movements
he experiences when attempting discernment? The answer is a
qualified no. From our explanation, it should be clear that only two
kinds of movements need to be attributed to a spirit. First is the
central experience of our openness to God. In the very experiencing,
we know that our experience of harmony with God is valid. Second
come th~ occasions on which we discover a congruence between our
concrete possibilities and that core experience. The peace, tranquillity, harmony are signs of the divine communication.
All other reactions and experiences, be they total exultation, absolute dejection, confusion-so long as they are not accompanied by
peace and harmony-are simply not instances of divine communication. One is free to attribute them to spirits, to the psyche, to indigestion. The important task of the individual is really not to determine the exact source of such feelings but only to note that God is
not in them and to seek feelings in which he does present himself by
the sort of peace which is the hallmark of the core experience. 5 7
Failure to receive
( 6) When discernment draws- a blank: When the second time
fails for lack of experiences in wT~ith one discovers resonances of the
core experience, it is always quite possible that "this is simply a sign
that this object of election and its contrary are indifferent as regards
an individual religious decision.'' 58 Many things are equally apt ways
of serving God, especially when they are not significant issues in
one's life. "Such things are not to be subjected to the method of
H. Rahner, Ignatius, p. 155.
K. Rahner, Dynamic, p. 95.
56 Ibid., p. 103.
57 Ibid., pp. 120, 163-164.
58 Ibid., p. 167.
54
55
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�DISCERNMENT
election which we have described." 59 We must note, however, that
Ignatius attributes three possible causes to failure to receive such
divine direction: our negligence in prayer, God's desire to test us,
and his desire to show us our spiritual dependence on him. 60 These
possibilities, particularly that of negligence in prayer, must be considered seriously. The man who rarely prays can hardly expect to
become adept at discernment.
(7) Discernment before Ignatius: In one form or another, discernment is a traditional component of Christian spirituality. Suarez
traces parallels between Ignatius and Aquinas, Bonaventure, and
Athanasius's Life of St. Antony. 61 Davila even notes Aquinas' citation of Aristotle to the effect that, if one is enlightened by a divine
impulse, it is unnecessary to use reason, a lower norm, for further
counsel. 62 The Didache provides a basic criterion for judging
whether a person who claims the power of discernment is really in
touch with God: "Not every man who speaks in the spirit is a
prophet, but only if his life is modelled on that of Christ."63 Finally,
throughout the ascetical writings of many of the Fathers of the
Church, one can trace a basic analogy describing types of discernment: Christians are urged to "distinguish the genuine from the
counterfeit like shrewd money-changers." 61
Ironically, the tradition of discernment is so strong that many
commentators note only that Ignatius's description is remarkably
conformed to the tradition even though he was virtually unaware of
that tradition in his early years of spiritual experience. What such
writers often overlook is the special characteristic of Ignatian discernment: unlike its predecessors, Ignatian discernment explicitly
seeks guidance in discovering God's will qua particular. 65
Corporate discernment
If we have done our work well, this section of the paper need not
be especially lengthy. The transition from individual discernment
59
Ibid., p. 165.
SpEx, 322.
H. Rahner, Ignatius, p. 165.
G2 Ibid., p. 148.
63 Ibid., p. 166.
64 Ibid., p. 172.
m; K. Rahner, Dynamic, pp. 115-116.
60
61
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to corporate discernment, although perhaps quite difficult in practice, is relatively easy to outline. 'Ve will be satisfied to demonstrate
that group discernment is in fact a solid part of the tradition of the
Society of Jesus and then to suggest one procedure for bringing this
discernment to life in our own times.
(A) Corporate discernment as origin of the Society: In the early
stages of its formation, the Society evolved through a fairly well
delineated series of key decisions. Each of these decisions was an
evidence of corporate application of the process of discernment
which we have outlined in the preceding section. This mode of decision-making antedates the vow at Montmartre:
During discussions of their ideals and their hopes and dreams, the companions,- inevitably, had experienced the necessity imposed upon each of
them individually to submit his own judgment to the control of their
collectiv~ discernment of their apostolic mission. . . . Through sharing
their subjective interior experiences, the companions were enabled to
arrive at a common judgment of the will of God for them in the objective
situation in which they found themselves in 1534.6 6
Rodriguez tells us the decision to vow poverty and chastity and go
to Jerusalem was reached "longam post disputationem." 67
During the time in Italy following the Montmartre vow, the
comrades settled on the name, Company of Jesus, "after prayer and
c!_iscussion."68
March to Mid-June of 1539 saw the "Prima Deliberatio," an informal congress of the comrades to discuss the now essential issue of
whether to remain in close union, its corollary, whether to take a
vow of obedience to one of their number, and other related questions. Futrell summarizes their pro-cedure in treating the obedience
problem:
( 1) They gave themselves up even more intensely to prayer for light,
"in invitendo gaudium et pacem in Spiritu Sancto circa obedientiam."
( 2) During this period of personal prayer and discernment, they did not
talk to each other, but sought personal light from the Holy Spirit.
( 3) Taking care to achieve as complete objectivity as possible by considering himself apart from the Company, each one, after this prayer
Futrell, Making, pp. 38 and 40.
Ibid., p. 39, quoting Fontes Narrativae, III, 20.
6~ Ibid., p. 44.
G6
67
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�DISCERNMENT
and discernment, decided in all freedom his own conclusion concerning the question of obedience as a means to the greater future service
of God and the conservation of the Company.
( 4) During the period of mutual discernment, each one, with all simplicity and frankness, first stated the reasons against obedience which
he had found through his own prayer and considerations; then, he
outlined the reasons he saw in favor of it. 69
The pattern was typical of all subsequent decision-making at this
congress of the Companions: "Seruato similiter eadem ·ordine discutiendi et procedendi in reliquis omnibus ... , omnia suaviter ct
concordi animorum consensu terminata ac finita sunt." 70
(B) The Constitutions: It would be unnecessary and inappropriate here to trace how Ignatius interwove the procedure of group
discernment into the Constitutions of the Society. vVe refer the
reader who wishes to pursue the matter to Fr. John Futrell's forthcoming study. It is appropriate to comment that Ignatius built the
hierarchical structure and procedures of the Society by relating two
independent sources, "pactista" and discernment. The Spanish theory
of "pactista," wherein the king rules by the authorization of the
people, became the base for the General's authority. The procedure
for exercising authority was to be discernment, both individual and
corporate, as circumstances warranted. 71
A contemporary technique
(C) A basic structure for group discernment: We are now in a
position to move from our historical survey and suggest one contemporary technique of group discernment. We presume there is a
problem which affects a number of members of the Society and
which is open to more than one reasonable solution.
(1) The superior presents the problem and all relevant data to
all whom it affects.
( 2) He asks each to pray privately over the options, weighing
the possibilities in terms of the peace he finds in each, looking in each for the harmony which reflects his core experience of openness to God. 72
Ibid., p. 49, summarizing Manumenta Ignatiana, Canst. I, 5.
Ibid., p. 51, quoting Monumenta Ignatiana, Canst. I, 7.
71 Ibid., pp. 136-145.
69
70
72
Since we are here dealing with one's openness not only as an individual
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(3) The superior enters into dialogue with each, seeking his
independent opinion.
(4) He looks for a pattern or trend in the opinions proffered,
giving greater weight to the ideas of men whom experience
has proved more adept at discernment. 73
(5) He then should report back to all the consensus or lack
thereof.
(6) The superior should seek some confirmation of the decision,
e.g., papal approval, increased happiness of the men themselves, success of the decision when put into practice. 74
\Ve call attention to three points which need emphasis: First, the
procedure accepts the principle that the concrete direct knowledge
of the individuals far exceeds what is possible to the superior alone.
Second: 'l:he principle that the Spirit speaks in individuals is clearly
honored. Third, on a purely psychological level, all members of the
group tend to acquiesce because they realize that the decision reflects group effort and is not simply imposed "from without" by the
superior.
(D) Implications of the element of uncertainty: In speaking of
discernment, Ignatius has no illusions that the prescriptions concluded to by either individual or group will be necessarily infallible.
His term for such conclusions is parar,;er, "an opinion resulting from
o'lle's personal assessment of 'appearances.' "73 From this fact it follows that the superior should seek more group discernment as he
finds the decision more difficult to make alone with confidence. 76
Rather obviously, the superior sh.9uld let the judgments of those "on
the spot" or "in the know" outweigh his own conclusions when he
lacks their understanding. 77
but also as a member of the group, this individual discernment will be in terms
of the Society's basic commitment as enunciated most simply but profoundly
in the "Scop:Is Vocationis Nostrae": "the service of Christ through the aid of
souls in companionship." Ibid., p. 65.
73 Ibid., p. 340, citing Manumenta Ignatiana, Canst. I, 218-219.
74 Cf. Ibid., pp. 387-388.
75 Ibid., p. 282.
76 Ibid., p. 340, citing 1\fanr:menta lgnatimw, Canst. I, 218-219.
77 Ibid., p. 289 and 65, n. 137.
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�DISCERNMENT
But on the other side, the subject must accept the superior's
paraQer when imposed. It is important to realize, however, that the
superior's para9er is to be accepted as a furtherance of the unity
of the Society rather than because the superior is any more likely to
be right. 78
A concrete example will help here. Ignatius, after careful discernment, attempted to resign as general. All but one, Ovieda, after discernment, refused to hear of it. Ignatius acquiesced. 79 The incident
illustrates a working principle of Ignatius as superior: when the
community has faithfully followed the procedure of corporate discernment and has reached consensus other than the para9er of the
superior, the superior should give in in face of the higher probability
that the Spirit is speaking through the community.
A final corollary: not only should the superior be personally adept
at discernment of spirits, he should be capable of leading group
discernment in the sense that he has a charism for helping the
subjects discern the will of God for them individually and for the
community. 80
An lgnatian approach
We return at last to the question of whether to withdraw some
men from each high school in order to keep all open or to remove
all men from some schools to keep the remainder operating with a
full complement of Jesuit manpower. The provincial would probably
appoint a committee to develop the implications in terms of extent
of manpower crisis, monetary considerations, impact of each option
on the communities we serve, etc. A report relaying all this data
would be prepared for each Jesuit in high school work or otherwise
directly affected by the decision. Each man would be asked to pray
privately over the matter, considering to what extent each option
brings the basic peace, tranquillity, and harmony which are characteristic of his core experience of openness to God.
One or two meetings in each community might be helpful follow78
79
Ibid., pp. 138 and 289.
Ibid., p. 163.
80 Richard F. Smith, S.J.: Lecture of February 27, 1969, describing superior
as the member of the community with a "charismatic eye on God and the community." Fr. Smith was describing St. Basil's concept of the superior; the parallel to Ignatius's position is unmistakable.
463
�WOODSTOCK :LETTE!l.S
ing this period of private discernment. Here all the advantages of
the first option would be developed by the group, then all the disadvantages. The second option would be covered in like manner.
Then more time would be allotted for individual prayerful discernment.
The provincial would then use his annual visitation to inquire
from each man what his reactions are. \Veighting the "para9er" of
those men whose past discernment has been more readily proved
right by experience, he seeks a pattern, an indication of consensus.
If the pattern is widespread enough to be significant, he agrees to
it. If there is no significant pJttem, he makes the decision that seems
best to him. His decision is to be accepted by the group more to
maintain corporate union and solidarity than because his "para9er''
is privileged.
Clea;!y this process is open to great variation depending on the
time available, the number of men involved, the kind of issue in
question. Part of the provincial's charism of guiding corporate discernment is the ability to adjust to these factors. In the present case,
for example, it would be wise to keep all in the dark about what high
schools would be most likely closed if that option were selected. The
provincial thereby helps the group guard against false para9eres
deriving from an inordinate attachment to their own institutions.
Prayer
The procedure of individual and corporate discernment is now,
hopefully, relatively clear. In closing, let us recall that the success
of either type of discernment is d~pendent most directly on whether
the men involved are men of prayer. Corporate discernment is by
no means a mystical privilege reserved to specially blessed communities. But neither is it the automatic possession of every Jesuit
community. The first reason why we are likely to suffer desolation,
says Ignatius, is "because we have been tepid and slothful or negligent in our exercises of piety, and so through our own fault spiritual
consolation has been t'lken away from us." 81 Discernment is, then,
open to us; but we must regularly open ourselves to God in prayer
if we are to make use of it.
st SpEx, 322.
464
�THE BUFFALO MISSION: 1869-1969
The following selections have been forwarded to WOODSTOCK
LETTERS through the kindness of Henry H. Regnet, S.]., the
"Ben;amin survivor of the Buffalo Mission." Readers will be
interested in (I) an historical timetable of the Mission; (II) a list of
the survivors of the Mission; (III) a joint letter of the German
Provincials of the Society of Jesus on the occasion of the centennial
of the Mission's founding; (IV) the sermon preached at St. Michael's
Church, in Buffalo, at the centenary celebration, by Francis X.
Curran, S.]., of Fordham University.
For the early history of the Buffalo Mission, consult WOODSTOCK LETTERS 1 (1872) and 5 (1908).
(I)
THE BUFFALO MISSION
1869-Jesuits from the German Province of the Society of Jesus
came to Buffalo on July 4th and took over St. Michael's and
St. Ann's parishes. St. Mary's parish in Toledo, Ohio was
staffed within a year.
1870--In the Fall Canisius College opened as a small secondary
school. St. Joseph's parish in Erie, Pa. was accepted and
administered till 1873.
1873-St. John's parish in Burlington, Iowa was taken over. It
continued as a Jesuit parish till 1890.
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�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
1874-Sts. Peter and Paul parish in Mankato, Minn. was accepted.
A small high school was conducted there from 1876-1881.
1880---Sacred Heart College was begun in Prairie du Chien,
Wisconsin. It was suppressed 1888-1898. (In 1914 the name
was changed to Campion College.) St. Gabriel's parish was
staffed in 1880.
1886--St. Ignatius College, Cleveland, Ohio was established, and
St. Mary's parish taken over. (In 1925 the name was changed
to John Carroll University.)
St. Francis Mission was begun among the Sioux Indians of
South Dakota.
1887-Holy Rosary Mission was established among the Sioux
Indians in South Dakota.
1888-A novitiate was opened in Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin.
1898-The novitiate was transferred to Cleveland (Parma) and a
philosophate opened in Prairie du Chien.
St. John's College was opened in Toledo, Ohio. A university
charter was obtained in 1903. (The school was closed in
1936.)
1907-After 38 years of mostly pioneer work the Buffalo Mission
was broken up on September 1st. Its territory and its 321
members- 126 priests, 98 scholastics, 97 brothers- were
divided between the Missouri and Maryland- New York
Provinces.
--~-
St. Michael's and St. Ann's parishes in Buffalo had been
established by Jesuits of the Canada- New York Mission in
1851 and 1858.
St. Stephen's Mission (Indian) in Wyoming was undertaken in 1884 by Fr. John Jutz, of the Buffalo Mission, but
handed over in 1885 to the Missouri Province.
Holy Trinity parish in Boston was staffed for many years by
. the Buffalo Mission.
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�(II)
LIST OF SURVIVORS OF THE BUFFALO MISSION
(Disbanded in 1907)
Name
Born
Entered S. ].
Ordained
Residence
6, 1906 June 27, 1920 St. Boniface, Wisconsin
Fr. Anthony H. Corey, S.J.
July 25, 1883 Jan.
Fr. Henry J. Hagen, S.J.
Mar. 13, 1881 Aug. 31, 1897 June 28, 1913 Shrub Oak, New York
Fr. Joseph F. Kiefer, S.J.
Jan.
Fr. John G. Krost, S.J...
Nov. 21, 1884 Aug. 31, 1903 May 18, 1918 Loyola Academy, Wilmette, Illinois
Fr. James J. Mertz, S.J.
0
May 24, 1882 Aug. 31, -1900 June SO, 1915 Loyola University, Chicago, Illinois
Fr. Louis J. Puhl, S.J.
Fr. Hcmy H. Regnet, S.J.
3, 1884 Aug. 31, 1901 June 28, 1916 Florissant, Missouri
Jan.
0
Bro. Albert J. Schell, S.J.
5, 1888 Aug. 31, 1905 June 27, 1920 Colombiere College, Detroit, Michigan
June 13, 1888 Aug. 31, 1905
Florissant, Missouri
Dec. 11, 1880 Apr. 16, 1901 June 27, 1920 Florissant, Missouri
Fr. Peter J. Scherer, S.J.
July 14, 1884 Aug. 31, 1905 June 27, 1920 University of Detroit, Detroit, Michigan
Fr. Augustine F. Siebauer, S.J.
Oct. 18, 1880 Sept. 4, 1899 June 26, 1914 Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin
Fr. Augustine C. Wand, S.J.
Nov. 13, 1883 Aug. 31, 1903 May 18, 1918 Florissant, Missouri
Fr. Edgar J. Zurlinden, S.J.
Mar. 22, 1887 Aug. 31, 1905 June 27, 1920 John Carroll University, Cleveland, Ohic
0
Were able to attend Historical Celebration in July 1969 at St. Michael's Church, Buffalo, New York.
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
(III)
LETTER FROM THE GERMAN PROVINCIALS ON THE
OCCASION OF THE CENTENNIAL
REVEREND
FATHERS and dear Brothers:
\Ve German Provincials, too, remember with gratitude and joy
the day on which, one hundred years ago, the Buffalo Mission was
established to extend pastoral assistance to German-speaking
Catholics in North America.
From about 1840 individual fathers and brothers of the German
Province \yere recruited as missionaries in the Maryland Province.
The best,~nown among them was the Swiss Fr. Ignatius Brocard,
who had guided the German Province 1836-39, and was named
Provincial of Maryland in 1848.
It was the banishment of the Society from Switzerland in 1847,
however, that led a greater number of "German" Jesuits to North
America. Thus, on June 4, 1848, 45 Jesuits boarded the "Providence," a transport-sailing vessel with meager accommodations for
passengers, at Antwerp, and after a painful voyage of 46 days
landed in New York. One of these emigrants was the later General,
Anthony M. Anderledy, who completed his theological studies in
St. Louis and was ordained to the priesthood there on September
29, 1848.
The Austrian Province also sent fathers and brothers, among them
the parish-missioner and writer, F~,. F. X. Weninger, destined to
exercise a fruitful apostolate for four decades.
Since political conditions in Europe changed rapidly, and the
German States were ready to admit Jesuits, many emigrants were
recalled. Yet, in 1853, when Fr. Peter Beck assumed the government of the Society, 27 fathers and six brothers of the German
Province were still active in North America. Fr. Beck granted
permission to all who wished to join one of the two American
Provinces. Eighteen fathers and five brothers availed themselves
of this permission. In subsequent years only few individuals went
to North America, because the fathers and brothers were needed
in th.e newly opened houses in Germany.
468
�BUFFALO
A change occurred in 1869. In an effort to organize the pastoral
care of German-speaking immigrants (in the U. S.) more effectively, the Buffalo Mission was established on July 4, 1869. At its
founding it numbered 13 fathers and 8 brothers in the small residences at St. Ann's and St. Michael's in Buffalo, N.Y. and St. ~vlary's
in Toledo, Ohio.
The decree of expulsion of the Jesuits from the German Empire
became a blessing for the Buffalo :Mission. In the single year 1872,
eighteen German Jesuits came to North America, followed by
others year after year. Only a decade after the ~Hssion was established, it numbered 107 members in two colleges and five residences-among them 37 brothers.
In 1884 the first Jesuits of the Buffalo Mission entered the Indian
reservations in South Dakota. Here numerous German brothers
and others of German descent have done outstanding missionary
work.
In 1888 the Mission was able to open its own novitiate at Prairie
du Chien, Wisconsin.
In 1893 it counted exactly 200 members in three colleges and five
residences. Of these 79 were brothers, 22 in the Indian reservations
of South Dakota.
A further notable increase occurred at the turn of the century. In
the years 1898 and 1902 fifteen young Jesuits in each instance
emigrated to North America; in 1903 the number even reached
eighteen. After that date, however, the additions from the motherprovince practically ceased. In its place the supply of youthful
recruits from the U.S. enjoyed a happy increase.
On September 1, 1907 the Buffalo Mission was dissolved: 126
fathers, 98 scholastics, and 97 brothers-a total of 321-were
dissociated from the German Province. In all, approximately 590
Jesuits: 430 fathers and scholastics and 160 brothers, had been
members of the "Missio Germanica Americae Septentrionalis." Of
these, 137 fathers and scholastics and 53 brothers had entered the
Society in North America itself.
From the European houses of the German Province about 400
young Jesuits came to North America after the middle of the nineteenth century, with the purpose of working among German-speaking Catholics. They numbered 293 fathers and scholastics and 107
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brothers. For the most part the missionaries soon founded schools
which originally were meant for German boys, but gradually
became fully Americanized. Some of the teachers in these schools
also became known in Germany, e.g., Louis Bonvin through his
German hymnal, and Fr. Francis Betten as translator of Fr. Finn's
boys' stories.
Of these 400 Jesuits eighteen fathers and brothers later went to
the Bombay Mission in India, while seven priests went to South
America; 110 fathers and scholastics and 31 brothers returned to
Europe, or left the Society.
It must never be forgotten that many of the fathers (in the U.S.)
rendered inestimable services to their native country during the
poverty-plagued years in the aftermath of two world wars. Fr.
Constantine Kempf, Rector of St. Ignatius College, Valkenburg,
records that after the first world war Fr. Theodore Hegemann was
an outstanding benefactor of the German Provinces. During parish
missions he called his audiences' attention to the fact that they
could aid the German Jesuits by sending Mass offerings. Rev.
George Eisenbacher, a diocesan priest in Chicago, collected the
Mass stipends and forwarded them to Valkenburg. Other Fathers
were similarly helpful. "Without this aid," Fr. Kempf remarks, "we
couldn't have survived." Likewise, after \Vorld \Var II Fr. Gustave
Reinsch, Fr. Joseph \Vels, and Fr. Joseph \Veis were noteworthy
for repeatedly sending us very valuable packages of supplies.
When Fr. General Janssens established the Buffalo Province in
1960, he stated explicitly that the name was chosen in memory of
the former Buffalo i\lission.
-The "mustard seed" sown one hundred years ago developed into
an "imposing tree." vVe German Provincials rejoice with you, dear
fathers and brothers, veterans and jubilarians, because of the
blessing the Lord bestowed on this undertaking. And so we wish
you a happy feastday and the grace of Christ for the future.
In cordial union,
P. HEINRICH OsTERMANN S.J.
PRAEP. PROV. GERM. lNF.
P. GUNTER SOBALLA S.J.
PRAEP. PROV. GERM. OR.
P. HEINRICH KRAUSS S.J.
PRAEP. PROV. GERM. SuP.
I. SCHASCHING S.J.
Munich, June 21, 1969.
470
�BUFFALO
(IV)
SERMON PREACHED BY FRANCis X. CuRRAN, S.J.,
AT CENTENARY CELEBATION: JULY 13, 1969
Leave your country, your family, and your father's house, for the
land I will show you. I will make you a great nation; I will bless
you. (Gn 12:1-2)
THIS occASION, we must gratefully ad:nowledge we are the
children, the heirs, the possessors of a splendid inheritance - the
Catholic church in the United States: of all the national churches
in the world, one of the most numerous, most generous, most faithful.
Who built this church? Regrettably we, who benefit from the
builders, do not know their names. We cannot identify the workers
who laid the foundations, erected the great walls, pitched the towering roof. \Ve look about us and ask: \Vho put up that pillar? who
placed that statue? who erected that altar? And we can name no
names.
All we ln1ow is that year after year, most notably in the last
century, scores, thousands, millions of immigrants sought our
shores, bringing with them only the strong backs that made them
welcome to the inhabitants and an even stronger faith that made
them pleasing to God. These Christians wanted their churches, their
sacraments, their Mass. The American Church, overwhelmed by the
mounting flood and unable to cope with strange customs and new
languages, appealed for help to the churches of Europe. And those
churches responded.
To assist the immigrants in building their churches and to meet
the financial needs of those priests and religious who volunteered to
serve those immigrants, the laity in Europe organized: in France,
the Society for the Propagation of the Faith, in Bavaria the
Ludwigmissionsverein, in Austria the Leopoldinenstiftung. By the
scores and by the hundred, the call to leave their country, their
family and their father's house was heard and answered by priests
and religious. From all over Europe they came; from Spain, France,
Belgium, Holland, Poland, Ireland, Italy-and not least from the
ON
471
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
German-speaking lands of Europe. Today we celebrate the centenary of the coming to the United States of one out of many
groups- the Jesuits of Germany.
When on July 4, 1869, the vanguard of the German Jesuits
entered the city of Buffalo, they may not have k11own they were not
the first. They were carrying on in the footsteps of great German
Jesuits. In the 17th century, the rim of Christendom was pushed
north from :Mexico into our Southwest. The pioneer was Eusebio
Kino, born in an Austrian town; and his work was carried on by his
Jesuit brethren with names like Sedelmayr, Grashofer, Keller.
In the British Colonies in the 18th century, thousands of Germans
flocked to the hospitable shores of William Penn's colony on the
Delaware River. The only priests in America at the time were Jesuits
of the Pr9vince of England. These men appealed to their brethren
in Germany, and their call was answered. In the years after 1740,
ten German Jesuits came to America and served the infant church.
To mention but one of them: Fr. Farmer organized the church in
New Jersey and assembled the first Catholic congregations in the
State of New York. His name was an alias; his tme name was
Ferdinand Steinmayer. vVhen the diocese of New York was created
in 1808, the first bishop was never able, due to the Napoleonic wars,
to reach his diocese. The man who first mled the diocese was the
vic~r general, the German Jesuit Anthony Kohlmann.
When the diocese of Buffalo was created in 1847, there were
already a dozen German Jesuit volunteers at work in the United
States. Most served German-language churches in the East and
Midwest, but three were engagecL-ip the Indian missions of the
Rocky Mountains and Pacific Coast.
Persecution
And in the same year, events were happening in Europe that led
to the sudden appearance in the United States of 88 German Jesuits.
vVe American Catholics have never been properly grateful to those
governments of Europe which persecuted the Church. Again and
again anti-Catholic governments ordered the dissolution or expulsion of religious orders-and the American Church received
substantial reinforcements of priests and religious. To speak only of
the Jesuit order, it was the persecuting governments of France
that assisted those Jesuits of the Province of France who were
472
�BUFFALO
creating the Jesuit Provinces of Canada, New Orleans and New
York. In Italy the Risorgimento which ended the Papal States aided
the Italian Jesuits who were building the Provinces of Oregon and
California. And it was the Kulturkampf of Otto von Bismarck which
guaranteed that the Buffalo }.lission of the German Jesuits would
be a success.
In 1847 the persecution broke out in what we would say was a
most unlikely place-Switzerland. Here the civil vVar of the
Sonderbund ended in the victory of the anti-Catholic party. The
victors wrote into the Swiss constitution a clause forever banning
from their state the Society of Jesus. And the Provincial of Germany
sent most of his young men in their studies here. Soon they were
recalled. But the American Church had profited. For a number
volunteered to remain.
And in 1847 John Timon, first bishop of the new diocese of
Buffalo, appealed to the Jesuits for assistance, in handling a problem
Bishop John Hughes could not solve, an Apostolic Delegate,
Archbishop Bedini, could not handle, and only the passage of time
brought to a peaceful end. The problem: the trustees of the German
Church of St. Louis. At the time, this area was part of the Jesuit
jurisdiction known as the Mission of New York and Canada. Somehow the superior found two German Jesuits and in 1848 they
arrived in Buffalo. Efforts of Bishop Timon to install them as pastors
of St. Louis were rebuffed. In 1851, at the bishop's request, they
organized the parish of St. Michael's. In 1858 a second parish, St.
Ann's, was begun.
Somehow enough German speaking priests were found to keep
the two parishes going-but just barely. Finally, as the decade of
the 1860's drew to a close, the American Jesuits once again
appealed to their brethren in Germany, and once more the Macedanian cry drew a response, and a most generous one. In the last
six months of 1869, eighteen German Jesuits arrived in Buffalo.
Within two years their number had increased to 33.
The Buffalo Mission of the German Jesuits was in being. Clearly
it aimed to serve the American Church, and not only in Buffalo.
Within a few years, the fathers staffed German-speaking parishes
in Toledo and Cleveland, Prairie du Chien in \Visconsin, Burlington
in Iowa, Mankato in Minnesota. Mission bands were created and
473
�WOODSTOCK LETTERS
they preached parish missions in German congregations throughout
the East and Midwest. Other fathers turned to preach the faith
to the original Americans; missions were begun-and they still
continue-among the Sioux Indians on the Rosebud and Pine Ridge
Reservations in South Dakota.
And being Jesuits, of course the German fathers turned to education. Most of their parishes, of course, had parochial schools.
Indeed, in 1900 St. Ann's School with 2,100 pupils was one of the
largest parochial schools in America. Yet the major predeliction of
the fathers was the higher education of boys and young men. In
1870, here in Buffalo, the first classes were begun in what are now
Canisius, College and Canisius High School, which next year will
celebrat~ their centenary. Within a few years, other colleges were
begun in Prairie du Chien, Toledo and Cleveland. The latter school
is now John Carroll University.
Clearly these German fathers appealed to American boys. When
in 1907 the Buffalo Mission was ended, of the 275 members of the
Mission in America, 120 were native born Americans.
It was recognized, even before the German Mission was begun,
that it would be a temporary thing. The aim of any foreign mission
is to destroy itself, so to root the faith in the soil that it becomes
native to that soil, to make the new church so strong that it can
take care of its own needs. Early in the present century it was seen
that needs served so generously by the German Jesuits could now
be safely turned over to native pJjests. In 1907, then, the jurisdiction of the Province of Germany_ over the Buffalo Mission was
ended, and the mission members joined other Jesuit jurisdictions.
The overwhelming majority of the German fathers remained in
America to spend their remaining years in serving the Church
they had served so well. Well indeed had they served it. These
careful, laborious workers had built well. Practically every one of
their works still survives and serves the church. Their names are
forgotten by men, but they are writ large in the book of life. They
left their country, their family and their father's house for the land
that God showed them. God did indeed bless them and, through
them, us. God has made us a great nation, in the greatness of His
Church to which the Buffalo Mission of the German Jesuits made
no small contribution.
474
��
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Woodstock Letters
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n79046634" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits</a>
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n81134877" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Woodstock College (Woodstock, Md.)</a>
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
BX3701 .W66
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Maryland Province of the Society of Jesus
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Saint Louis University
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Maryland Province of the Society of Jesus. Permission to copy or publish must be obtained from the Jesuit Archives & Research Center.
Format
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PDF
Language
A language of the resource
eng
lat
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
JA-Woodstock
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Maryland Province of the Society of Jesus
Abstract
A summary of the resource.
The Woodstock Letters were a publication of the Society of Jesus from 1872 until 1969. They were named after Woodstock College, the Jesuit seminary in Maryland where they were published. Written almost entirely by Jesuits, and originally intended to be read only by Jesuits, the Letters were "a record of current events and historical notes connected with the colleges and missions of the Society of Jesus in North and South America." They include historical articles, updates on work being done by the Jesuits, eyewitness accounts of historic events, book reviews, obituaries, enrollment statistics for Jesuit schools, and various other items of interest to the Society. The writings of many renowned Jesuit scholars and missionaries appeared in the Woodstock Letters, including Pedro Arrupe, Pierre-Jean de Smet, Avery Dulles, Daniel Lord, Walter Hill, John Courtney Murray, Walter Ong, and Gustave Weigel. They provide an invaluable record of the work done by American Jesuits throughout the 19th and 20th Centuries.
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2017-2
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
99 items
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1872-1969
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85021157.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Catholic Church--Periodicals</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh87004994.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits--History--19th century</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh87004995.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits--History--20th century</a>
Text
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Periodical
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Woodstock Letters - Volume 98 (1969)
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n81134877" target="_blank">Woodstock College (Woodstock, Md.)</a>
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85021157.html" target="_blank">Catholic Church--Periodicals</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh87004994.html" target="_blank">Jesuits--History--19th century</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh87004995" target="_blank">Jesuits--History--20th century</a>
Description
An account of the resource
1969 edition of the Woodstock Letters, "a record of current events and historical notes connected with the colleges and missions of the Society of Jesus."
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives: Central United States
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Maryland Province of the Society of Jesus
Jesuit Archives Central United States
Saint Louis University
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
PDF
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
JA-Woodstock-098
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
BX3701 .W66
Language
A language of the resource
eng
lat
Relation
A related resource
JA-Woodstock
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Maryland Province of the Society of Jesus. Permission to copy or publish must be obtained from the Jesuit Archives: Central United States
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Maryland Province of the Society of Jesus
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2017-2
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
481 pages
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1969
-
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a3ee9cc5c470b93544d756eca9ff386a
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Belize Mission Glass Lantern Slide Collection
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n80153723" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits. Missouri Province</a>
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
Belize Mission collection [MIS.3.001]
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEG
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
JA-MIS-3-001
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh99002785.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Belize--History</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh2008107578.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Mayas--Social life and customs</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85014536.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Garifuna (Caribbean people)</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh87004995.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits--History--20th century</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85069941.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits--Missions</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85021043.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Catholic Church</a>
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Still image
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Abstract
A summary of the resource.
The Belize Mission glass lantern slide collection consists of ninety-one, hand-colored and black and white photographs, on a variety of Belizean subjects, developed on glass plates for projection viewing. Likely created between 1915 and 1920, the slides capture the missionary work of a small group of religious sisters and Jesuits, including Fathers Louis J. Fusz, Joseph P. Lynam, Joseph Kemper, Rickard Rooney, Arthur F. Versavel, and Brother Michael J. Hanrahan; the life and customs of the people of Belize, including Maya and Garifuna communities; industries of the nation of Belize, including logging and farming; interior and exterior view of churches and school buildings, including Holy Redeemer Parish and St. John’s College; as well as landscapes and seascapes of inland and coastal Belize. Many of these photographs feature Father Louis J. Fusz and may have been taken by the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, which published a Sunday magazine article about Fusz’s ministry in 1916, or the slides may have been commissioned by the Fusz family. While all the slides were created in the early twentieth century, it is possible that two or more collections of slides by different photographers were combined by Belize missionaries or Missouri Province staff.
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2016-08-26
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
circa 1915-1920
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
91 glass lantern slides
Still Image
A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Glass lantern slide
Physical Dimensions
The actual physical size of the original image
4x3 inches
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
[Map Mexico and Central America]
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n80153723" target="_blank">Jesuits. Missouri province</a>
Description
An account of the resource
Hand-colored, glass lantern slide map of Mexico and Central American with British Honduras, later Belize, tinted red.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives: Central United States, St. Louis, Missouri, U.S.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jesuit Archives: Central United States
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Still image
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEG
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
JA-MIS-3-001-1-1
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
Belize Mission collection [MIS.3.001]
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/names/n82235259.html" target="_blank">Belize--History</a>
Relation
A related resource
JA-MIS-3-001
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2016-08-26
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
1 glass lantern slide
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
circa 1915-1920
-
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9dbf57863291bc9f479df3afb8db0e1d
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Moses L. Linton Scrapbook
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/names/n80153723.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits. Missouri Province</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh87004994.html">Jesuits--History--19th century</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh2008107860.htm" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Missionaries--United States--Biography</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85004255.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">America--Discovery and exploration--Sources</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh2009126909.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Indians of North America--West (U.S.)--History--19th century</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85065312.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Indians of North America--Languages</a>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n83045600" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Smet, Pierre-Jean de, 1801-1873</a>
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n97800320" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Linton, M. L. (Moses L.), 1808-1872</a>
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
De Smetiana collection
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEG
Language
A language of the resource
eng
fre
lat
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Still image
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
JA-Linton
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus
Abstract
A summary of the resource.
Moses Lewis Linton served at Saint Louis University’s School of Medicine for nearly 30 years. There he met Father Jesuit Peter J. De Smet, priest and missionary to Native Americans, and the two became close friends. After Linton received an album as a Christmas gift from a patient in 1850, De Smet began his work on it as a personal scrapbook for his friend.
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2015-12-14
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
243 items
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1850-1919
Still Image
A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Scrapbook
Physical Dimensions
The actual physical size of the original image
24x29cm
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
[Alfred H. Terry, Bvt. Major General to Jesuit Peter J. De Smet, 1868 June 28, page 147a]
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n83045600" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Smet, Pierre-Jean de, 1801-1873</a>
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n97800320" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Linton, M. L. (Moses L.), 1808-1872</a>
Description
An account of the resource
Copy of a letter sent by Alfred H. Terry, Bvt. Major General to Jesuit Peter J. De Smet on June 28th 1868.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Still image
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEG
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
JA-Linton-191
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
De Smetiana collection
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/names/n80153723.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits. Missouri Province</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh87004994.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits--History--19th century</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh2008107860.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Missionaries--United States--Biography</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh2009126909.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Indians of North America--West (U.S.)--History--19th century</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85004255.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">America--Discovery and exploration--Sources</a>
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2016-12-16
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
1 item
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1850-1919
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus
-
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b905652ae24b269c80d2b9121cdeb981
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Belize Mission Glass Lantern Slide Collection
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n80153723" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits. Missouri Province</a>
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
Belize Mission collection [MIS.3.001]
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEG
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
JA-MIS-3-001
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh99002785.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Belize--History</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh2008107578.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Mayas--Social life and customs</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85014536.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Garifuna (Caribbean people)</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh87004995.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits--History--20th century</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85069941.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits--Missions</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85021043.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Catholic Church</a>
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Still image
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Abstract
A summary of the resource.
The Belize Mission glass lantern slide collection consists of ninety-one, hand-colored and black and white photographs, on a variety of Belizean subjects, developed on glass plates for projection viewing. Likely created between 1915 and 1920, the slides capture the missionary work of a small group of religious sisters and Jesuits, including Fathers Louis J. Fusz, Joseph P. Lynam, Joseph Kemper, Rickard Rooney, Arthur F. Versavel, and Brother Michael J. Hanrahan; the life and customs of the people of Belize, including Maya and Garifuna communities; industries of the nation of Belize, including logging and farming; interior and exterior view of churches and school buildings, including Holy Redeemer Parish and St. John’s College; as well as landscapes and seascapes of inland and coastal Belize. Many of these photographs feature Father Louis J. Fusz and may have been taken by the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, which published a Sunday magazine article about Fusz’s ministry in 1916, or the slides may have been commissioned by the Fusz family. While all the slides were created in the early twentieth century, it is possible that two or more collections of slides by different photographers were combined by Belize missionaries or Missouri Province staff.
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2016-08-26
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
circa 1915-1920
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
91 glass lantern slides
Still Image
A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Glass lantern slide
Physical Dimensions
The actual physical size of the original image
4x3 inches
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
[Alligator hunt in Belize]
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n80153723" target="_blank">Jesuits. Missouri province</a>
Description
An account of the resource
Hand-colored, glass lantern slide of hunters with an alligator in Belize.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives: Central United States, St. Louis, Missouri, U.S.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jesuit Archives: Central United States
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Still image
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEG
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
JA-MIS-3-001-2-9
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
Belize Mission collection [MIS.3.001]
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh99002785.html" target="_blank">Belize--History</a>
Relation
A related resource
JA-MIS-3-001
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2016-08-26
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
1 glass lantern slide
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
circa 1915-1920
-
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b63553563325997a5cbe682d2d734a94
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Moses L. Linton Scrapbook
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/names/n80153723.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits. Missouri Province</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh87004994.html">Jesuits--History--19th century</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh2008107860.htm" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Missionaries--United States--Biography</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85004255.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">America--Discovery and exploration--Sources</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh2009126909.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Indians of North America--West (U.S.)--History--19th century</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85065312.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Indians of North America--Languages</a>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n83045600" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Smet, Pierre-Jean de, 1801-1873</a>
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n97800320" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Linton, M. L. (Moses L.), 1808-1872</a>
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
De Smetiana collection
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEG
Language
A language of the resource
eng
fre
lat
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Still image
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
JA-Linton
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus
Abstract
A summary of the resource.
Moses Lewis Linton served at Saint Louis University’s School of Medicine for nearly 30 years. There he met Father Jesuit Peter J. De Smet, priest and missionary to Native Americans, and the two became close friends. After Linton received an album as a Christmas gift from a patient in 1850, De Smet began his work on it as a personal scrapbook for his friend.
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2015-12-14
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
243 items
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1850-1919
Still Image
A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Scrapbook
Physical Dimensions
The actual physical size of the original image
24x29cm
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
[Back cover]
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n83045600" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Smet, Pierre-Jean de, 1801-1873</a>
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n97800320" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Linton, M. L. (Moses L.), 1808-1872</a>
Description
An account of the resource
Back cover of the Linton scrapbook. This cover is enameled and inlaid with mother of pearl.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Still image
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEG
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
JA-Linton-242
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
De Smetiana collection
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/names/n80153723.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits. Missouri Province</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh87004994.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits--History--19th century</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh2008107860.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Missionaries--United States--Biography</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh2009126909.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Indians of North America--West (U.S.)--History--19th century</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85004255.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">America--Discovery and exploration--Sources</a>
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2016-12-16
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
1 item
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
1850-1919
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus
-
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664afb420d6c4419ddbe10cbe23c6b8b
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Nicolas Point Missionary Drawings Collection
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh87004994.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits--History--19th century</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85069941.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits--Missions</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85008290.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuit artists</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85004251.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">America--Discovery and exploration--Pictorial works</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85004255.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">America--Discovery and exploration--Sources</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh2010103735.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Northwest, Pacific</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh2010103463.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Northwest, Pacific--Pictorial works</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh96011830.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Indians in art</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85065288.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Indians of North America--History</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh89004118.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Indians of North America--Northwest, Pacific</a>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n87874512" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Point, Nicolas, 1799-1868</a>
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEG
Language
A language of the resource
fre
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Still images
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
JA-IX-C-9
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
De Smetiana collection
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Abstract
A summary of the resource.
The Nicolas Point Gallery introduces the missionary activities of the Jesuits among Native American in the Northwestern and Midwestern United States. Pencil sketches and watercolor drawings by Jesuit Nicolas Point (1799-1868) depict the encounter between the various groups.
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2016-9-28
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
109 items
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
circa 1841-1847
Still Image
A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Pen and ink drawing.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
[Buffalo]
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n87874512" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Point, Nicolas, 1799-1868</a>
Description
An account of the resource
A buffalo. Ink on paper, circa 1841-1847.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Still image
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEG
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
JA-IX-C-9-102
Language
A language of the resource
fre
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh87004994.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits--History--19th century</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85069941.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits--Missions</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85008290.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuit artists</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh96011830.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Indians in art</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85065288.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Indians of North America--History</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85065299.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Indians of North America--Hunting</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85004255.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">America--Discovery and exploration--Sources</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85004251.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">America--Discovery and exploration--Pictorial works</a>
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
De Smetiana collection
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2016-10-3
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
1 item
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
circa 1841-1847
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus
Buffalo
Exploration of the American West
Native Americans
Nicolas Point
Pierre-Jean De Smet
Western fauna
-
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fa4fe96b4562147b6d4ed80699ee6c7e
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Pierre-Jean De Smet Map Collection
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n83045600" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Smet, Pierre-Jean de, 1801-1873</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85146140.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">West (U.S.)</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85095431.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Oregon Territory--History</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85004251.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">America--Discovery and exploration--Pictorial works</a>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n83045600" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Smet, Pierre-Jean de, 1801-1873</a>
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
De Smetiana Collection
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEG
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Still image
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MJA-IX-C8
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Abstract
A summary of the resource.
Pierre-Jean de Smet (1801-1873) was a Belgian Jesuit who came to Missouri in 1823. In 1838, De Smet traveled across the western United States, then considered the wilderness of the expanding country. He journeyed the territories of the future states of Iowa, Idaho, Montana, Colorado, and South Dakota and visited Native American settlements. The De Smetiana map collection consists of 41 individual maps categorized as 38 maps, and depicts a variety of locations in the upper Midwestern United States, such as the Yellowstone River, the upper Missouri River, and Spokane River among other locations. The maps also show river courses, Native American settlements, United States military installations, and other landmarks in the American West.
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2016-11-15
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
19 maps
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
circa 1830s-1850s
Still Image
A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Maps (documents)
Physical Dimensions
The actual physical size of the original image
12.5 x 15.5 in
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
[Charts of the Colombia River and its tributaries 1]
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n83045600" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Smet, Pierre-Jean de, 1801-1873</a>
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n83045600" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Smet, Pierre-Jean de, 1801-1873</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85146140.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">West (U.S.)</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85095431.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Oregon Territory--History</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85004251.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">America--Discovery and exploration--Pictorial works</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85028740.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Columbia River</a>
Description
An account of the resource
This map consists of two pages. It is the first of a series of charts of the Colombia River and its tributaries. Most of the nomenclature used in the maps is based on Indian languages. Some of the descriptive terms are in French, however. The map is drawn in ink, on a dark cream background, and is filled to the edges of the paper.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEG
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Still image
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MJA IX C8 – 17
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
De Smetiana collection
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with the permission of the Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2016-11-15
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
1 map
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
circa 1830-1850
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus
Columbia River
Exploration of the American West
explorers
Maps
Peter John De Smet
Pierre Jean De Smet
-
https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/26015/archive/files/181d336c325a3422f3965d5d24cf6310.jpg?Expires=1712793600&Signature=bWY4aR7vwF6KFN-kjuR%7E3skuC5JDtTy9dYa393BXp12QDHaT757KVMlBeSGR0AYYgCWZq0TaPsA1Ot7jEmO54nrFbLA01EJYs5%7ERKUos26lqN7MfTBLVHN-bg2V2iVgus-lOQkVC8xUwbrv6MolmqB3ViQnIC3b8U93sj0ZMEANVgfvxjaXNt2UK3m2LcEssGFbLILZBmFrxA3VOp1T-uJKOcd4TpP6w5feApgaECdQzpDBg3DbH2y4HFoC9vhehv8uD3tSh7P4-WuxM4rvoCvkFVEHhq3vT6wUn6ReWvJTug5bUfVBSBNRppzMEMukomYnZTHnkHTMNFB8kaAxkhQ__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM
520b58c8d06f4e3ac54190a0c95e2609
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Pierre-Jean De Smet Map Collection
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n83045600" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Smet, Pierre-Jean de, 1801-1873</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85146140.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">West (U.S.)</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85095431.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Oregon Territory--History</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85004251.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">America--Discovery and exploration--Pictorial works</a>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n83045600" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Smet, Pierre-Jean de, 1801-1873</a>
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
De Smetiana Collection
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEG
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Still image
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MJA-IX-C8
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Abstract
A summary of the resource.
Pierre-Jean de Smet (1801-1873) was a Belgian Jesuit who came to Missouri in 1823. In 1838, De Smet traveled across the western United States, then considered the wilderness of the expanding country. He journeyed the territories of the future states of Iowa, Idaho, Montana, Colorado, and South Dakota and visited Native American settlements. The De Smetiana map collection consists of 41 individual maps categorized as 38 maps, and depicts a variety of locations in the upper Midwestern United States, such as the Yellowstone River, the upper Missouri River, and Spokane River among other locations. The maps also show river courses, Native American settlements, United States military installations, and other landmarks in the American West.
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2016-11-15
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
19 maps
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
circa 1830s-1850s
Still Image
A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Maps (documents)
Physical Dimensions
The actual physical size of the original image
12.5 x 15.5 in
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
[Charts of the Colombia River and its tributaries 2]
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n83045600" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Smet, Pierre-Jean de, 1801-1873</a>
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n83045600" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Smet, Pierre-Jean de, 1801-1873</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85146140.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">West (U.S.)</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85095431.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Oregon Territory--History</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85004251.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">America--Discovery and exploration--Pictorial works</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85028740.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Columbia River</a>
Description
An account of the resource
This map is part of a series of charts of the Colombia River and its tributaries. It is drawn in ink on a gray background, and is filled to the edges of the paper.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEG
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Still image
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MJA IX C8 – 18
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
De Smetiana collection
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2016-11-15
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
1 map
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
circa 1830s-1850s
Columbia River
Exploration of the American West
explorers
Maps
Peter John De Smet
Pierre Jean De Smet
-
https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/26015/archive/files/7fdaf9c2b1ac0b79fb29e67517a8d21f.jpg?Expires=1712793600&Signature=uxSyOAksPvYE5HZWQCbzcHLzWE6RMfLVfLGMa1i1%7EEh0akkbGbspySqjq2K1XcJ95P5gJ4Y10nmabngZDkPsi5FHi9jikHLa9Q9jh0PkZnNo925ZhtJh3RwXrvXpsTLbi2yGWk4E22SbB4nGPwjuuwSW-30TLhIkFlWuQmbX67a3fwUj-5IASOXzHYBGw%7EfG5W9wxA%7EI6mvr-8G6inXrdE8AZDlzJz2f3fcRYuIQ84YRhJ3Ghhw0LFr-vOdlJFgdIlUGrVtRGvdt4RWgUDIcPb0hOaLPrco1HkRfxhLhPtEy4e6NzodB81SVCpXUAn3FgbonI8RXayT02J8ZnCgyFA__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM
9ffe598c4b1e22147c82e897496fe2e6
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Pierre-Jean De Smet Map Collection
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n83045600" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Smet, Pierre-Jean de, 1801-1873</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85146140.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">West (U.S.)</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85095431.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Oregon Territory--History</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85004251.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">America--Discovery and exploration--Pictorial works</a>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n83045600" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Smet, Pierre-Jean de, 1801-1873</a>
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
De Smetiana Collection
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEG
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Still image
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MJA-IX-C8
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Abstract
A summary of the resource.
Pierre-Jean de Smet (1801-1873) was a Belgian Jesuit who came to Missouri in 1823. In 1838, De Smet traveled across the western United States, then considered the wilderness of the expanding country. He journeyed the territories of the future states of Iowa, Idaho, Montana, Colorado, and South Dakota and visited Native American settlements. The De Smetiana map collection consists of 41 individual maps categorized as 38 maps, and depicts a variety of locations in the upper Midwestern United States, such as the Yellowstone River, the upper Missouri River, and Spokane River among other locations. The maps also show river courses, Native American settlements, United States military installations, and other landmarks in the American West.
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2016-11-15
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
19 maps
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
circa 1830s-1850s
Still Image
A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Maps (documents)
Physical Dimensions
The actual physical size of the original image
12.5 x 15.5 in
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
[Charts of the Colombia River and its tributaries 3]
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n83045600" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Smet, Pierre-Jean de, 1801-1873</a>
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n83045600" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Smet, Pierre-Jean de, 1801-1873</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85146140.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">West (U.S.)</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85095431.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Oregon Territory--History</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85004251.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">America--Discovery and exploration--Pictorial works</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85028740.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Columbia River</a>
Description
An account of the resource
This map is part of a series of charts of the Colombia River and its tributaries. It is drawn in ink on a dark cream background, and is filled to the edges of the paper.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEG
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Still image
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
MJA IX C8 – 19
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
De Smetiana collection
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2016-11-15
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
1 map
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
circa 1830s-1850s
Columbia River
Exploration of the American West
explorers
Maps
Peter John De Smet
Pierre Jean De Smet
-
https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/26015/archive/files/48c216473579832a31e1d8cc12ff5c18.jpg?Expires=1712793600&Signature=KKeTSu90KEMA4Ymfq%7ECO9S%7ENuHkB6Xey1WDqbUvoNWMKeZtrm6QWxuQ7k2WWQjz25t4UxT0a45-Lgfg4Gd6Ohz-M4Nb8iKXkiOtQj3Ra6Gme2yjdzvb6uf0rTVTi5t1KIJwU6PSdUc1tYm7hgtAjBSAWuHG7bUOO%7EG%7Ei7KcDVsZyrc5-j6vNfLp3U7Hnf7ButWd4ORNFVM7msh99XexWlvZ9gXKPXoDeCiih0yVwePWKIyGDvlM4FwPVduDesmqVEqyxlayszcv64Mw4-y7wa44P7mEcannc4BxWaF9KeMTYrMlN3muBiuhsl%7EHfn%7ET9k%7Ewj1tJnmFWnrUDcppFuQg__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM
86f40ec167a2b94023ea65bbf320abfc
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Belize Mission Glass Lantern Slide Collection
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n80153723" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits. Missouri Province</a>
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
Belize Mission collection [MIS.3.001]
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jesuit Archives & Research Center
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEG
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
JA-MIS-3-001
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh99002785.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Belize--History</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh2008107578.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Mayas--Social life and customs</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85014536.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Garifuna (Caribbean people)</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh87004995.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits--History--20th century</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85069941.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Jesuits--Missions</a>
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh85021043.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Catholic Church</a>
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Still image
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Abstract
A summary of the resource.
The Belize Mission glass lantern slide collection consists of ninety-one, hand-colored and black and white photographs, on a variety of Belizean subjects, developed on glass plates for projection viewing. Likely created between 1915 and 1920, the slides capture the missionary work of a small group of religious sisters and Jesuits, including Fathers Louis J. Fusz, Joseph P. Lynam, Joseph Kemper, Rickard Rooney, Arthur F. Versavel, and Brother Michael J. Hanrahan; the life and customs of the people of Belize, including Maya and Garifuna communities; industries of the nation of Belize, including logging and farming; interior and exterior view of churches and school buildings, including Holy Redeemer Parish and St. John’s College; as well as landscapes and seascapes of inland and coastal Belize. Many of these photographs feature Father Louis J. Fusz and may have been taken by the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, which published a Sunday magazine article about Fusz’s ministry in 1916, or the slides may have been commissioned by the Fusz family. While all the slides were created in the early twentieth century, it is possible that two or more collections of slides by different photographers were combined by Belize missionaries or Missouri Province staff.
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2016-08-26
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
circa 1915-1920
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
91 glass lantern slides
Still Image
A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Glass lantern slide
Physical Dimensions
The actual physical size of the original image
4x3 inches
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
[Chopping down a tree in Belize]
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
<a href="https://lccn.loc.gov/n80153723" target="_blank">Jesuits. Missouri province</a>
Description
An account of the resource
Glass lantern slide of loggers chopping down a tree.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Jesuit Archives: Central United States, St. Louis, Missouri, U.S.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jesuit Archives: Central United States
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Still image
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEG
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
JA-MIS-3-001-2-3
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
Belize Mission collection [MIS.3.001]
Language
A language of the resource
eng
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Reproduced with permission of the Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Subject
The topic of the resource
<a href="http://id.loc.gov/authorities/subjects/sh99002785.html" target="_blank">Belize--History</a>
Relation
A related resource
JA-MIS-3-001
Rights Holder
A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource.
Central and Southern Province of the Society of Jesus.
Date Available
Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available.
2016-08-26
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
1 glass lantern slide
Temporal Coverage
Temporal characteristics of the resource.
circa 1915-1920