Thoughts on Our Jesuit Inheritance, Part II: An Interview with Fr. Keith Maczkiewicz S.J.

In my endeavor to discover what makes us Jesuit, I had a helpful conversation with Father Keith Maczkiewicz, S.J., who serves as Associate Vice President for Mission and Ministry, and is a Jesuit priest on campus. I will include here the comments I found especially helpful.

First, I asked Father Mac what distinguishes Jesuit education from other forms of education, Catholic or secular, and what ways Holy Cross lives out that charism. His first point was the mission-driven nature of Holy Cross.

“Holy Cross has a distinct mission. It’s even different than Boston College down the road, even though that’s a Jesuit university, because of the unique mode of what we’re doing here in terms of undergrad-only, liberal arts… In a place like Holy Cross, the focus on the humanities is a huge aspect of what we’re trying to do here.” He compared our college to other Jesuit universities like Fairfield, where a large portion of undergraduates study things like finance, marketing, and nursing. Holy Cross, on the other hand, maintains the historical tradition of Jesuit colleges to pursue the liberal arts and humanities.

He continued that Holy Cross provides the opportunity for spiritual formation,

“I think that the phrase in the mission statement that carries a lot of weight is the phrase, ‘for those who wish.’ Because we have a lot of non-Catholics here. We have non-Catholic students or formerly Catholic students, that’s a huge number... And I think that in general the College is pretty good about providing opportunities for those who wish. Numbers at Mass the last several weeks have been pretty great. There’s the devotional life here. The fact that you can go to confession five days a week says something. There’s still Mass here twice a day… The fact that you can make the Spiritual Exercises four times a year, that the chaplains make themselves available for spiritual direction, that you can become Catholic while you’re here. There are all these opportunities for formation for students.”

In light of the diminishing number of Jesuits, I asked Father Mac if, hypothetically, Holy Cross could retain its Jesuit charism and identity with no Jesuits present. He reminded me that it is not just a hypothetical,

“The Jesuits on the East Coast are currently involved in a conversation about what they’re calling an “Apostolic Plan…” We [The Society of Jesus] are currently in 11 colleges and universities, 47 high schools and pre-secondary schools, 19 parishes and four retreat houses. We can’t stay in all those places… Every institution is going to have to do a deep dive into what it wants. First of all they’ll have to affirm that they actually want to remain a Jesuit school. There might be some places, I don’t think Holy Cross is one of them, who are like ‘yeah, I think we’re done with the Jesuit thing.’”

He said of Holy Cross, regarding our first lay president, “There is more conversation about mission and Catholicism with a lay president than there was with a Jesuit president, because there’s a recognition that, in some people’s minds it doesn’t sit in the person in the president’s office who is wearing a collar, even though president Rougeau is an active, practicing Catholic… Because of that, there are a lot of conversations about mission here. I think there are going to be gradations of things… could a place be ‘Ignatian,’ inspired by Ignatius and his spirituality, but no longer a Jesuit school?... We [Jesuits] haven’t really wrestled with this totally.”

Finally, I asked Father Mac what I consider to be the most important question. That is, whether Holy Cross could retain its Jesuit charism or identity if the majority of the community no longer believed in or practiced the Catholic faith. He pointed out Pope John Paul II’s imperative that the majority of faculty at Catholic institutions should be Catholic. But, he says, “the horse has left the barn, at almost every Catholic school.” He continued with a clarification of what the mission of a Catholic institution is, primarily,

“The thing about Catholic higher education is that it’s not a parish… When I speak to new faculty, I say to them, ‘we do not relate to you as if you are a parishioner here, you’re not a parishioner at Holy Cross.’ Their job is to teach, to teach well, and contribute to the Catholic intellectual tradition, which says: ‘ask really good questions about your discipline. Let’s bring them to a dialogue with what we believe in the Catholic faith’… That’s how we maintain ourselves as an authentically Catholic place.”

At the same time, he cautioned adamantly against a separation between “Jesuit” and “Catholic,”

“I think we have to be really diligent because we can be very quick to say ‘Jesuit, yay, Catholic, boo.’ And I think we see that in multiple areas… People love the Jesuits, people don’t love the Church all the time, and I would say that Saint Ignatius is rolling over in his grave when he hears that. Because you could not conceive of the Jesuits outside the Church. Even just a few years ago, we said in a document coming out of our General Congregation, that the Jesuits are “for, with, and of the Church.” We can’t conceive of ourselves any other way. I think we run into problems when we try to divorce the two, to try to make people happy.

He brought up the example of the Jesuit response to the Dobbs decision,

“The overturning of Roe v. Wade is a good example. I think people were shocked when the Jesuit Conference of the U.S. and Canada put out a statement in support of the Dobbs decision… I think people felt shocked and betrayed by that. But that would say to me that we, Jesuits, have done a poor job reminding people that we’re also Catholic. These two things can never and should never have been divorced. And if we stress ‘Jesuit’ over ‘Catholic,’ we’re doing a disservice to the Church.”

As a final thought, Father Mac reminded me of our privileged position at Holy Cross,

“I think sometimes in these conversations around identity and mission, what I sometimes want to say to people is that we are in a privileged place to be able to have them. Because if you’re aware of the higher ed. landscape in general, there’s basically one institution closing a month… Three colleges in Pennsylvania closed in one month over the summer. The atmosphere for Catholic higher ed. right now… is punishing. So the fact that we can have these conversations means that Holy Cross is doing really well… It’s a privilege to be able to debate these things. Because many places are worried about keeping the lights on and not having paper in the photocopier.”

We are truly privileged to be in the position that we are in. It is a privilege that Holy Cross can focus on its Jesuit mission at all. Idealist Catholics like myself must recognize and appreciate that. At the same time, with the privilege of our resources comes the responsibility to use them well. This responsibility demands Holy Cross to use its resources in service of its Jesuit mission; service which is not just an exterior decoration or mere good works, but truly flowing from and aiming for the living Catholic Faith. Holy Cross has the ability, and thus the responsibility, not only to produce great scholars and successful alumni, but to produce saints. It can, and therefore must, not only work for academic excellence and social change, but labor ad majorem Dei gloriam, for the greater glory of God.

Thoughts on Our Jesuit Inheritance, Part I

Two summers ago, there was a display of lamppost banners around the Hoval, each one advertising a value related to Holy Cross’ Jesuit identity. At the top of each banner was the phrase: “Jesuit Heritage.” It did not say “Jesuit values,”  “Jesuit mission,” or “Jesuit identity.” The word heritage may mean a few different things, but it certainly suggests something received from the past [1]. It may or may not refer to something still living. A man may speak of his “Catholic Heritage,” but this does not guarantee that you will see him at Mass next Sunday. The question, then, is whether this inheritance continues as a living identity, a decorative heirloom, or something in between. Is Holy Cross “Jesuit,” or merely “raised Jesuit?”

The word “Jesuit” is often thrown around at Holy Cross, but there is not a clear understanding of what it means, especially as it relates to our college. If you asked a member of our community a hundred or even fifty years ago what made Holy Cross a Jesuit college, they probably would have looked at you strangely and replied, “Why, the Jesuits, of course!” Today the answer is not so obvious. One needs only to walk from Loyola to Ciampi, then to the new Jesuit residence to get a visual impression of the decline in the number of actual Jesuits who live at Holy Cross. The average student interacts with Jesuits rarely, if at all. We no longer have a Jesuit president, and few Jesuits remain in administration. There are only a handful of Jesuit professors, mostly in Religious Studies. And perhaps most surprisingly, only one out of our dozen chaplains is a Jesuit. This should not be surprising, considering our Church’s vocation shortage, but it makes the answer to our question much less obvious. Our “Jesuit-ness” is no longer incarnate in the collared figures who walk around our campus. It is now more abstract; we cannot point to it. We must recognize first, then, that it is unclear what makes a college “Jesuit” if not Jesuits, and that we are at risk of losing whatever that is.

What does Holy Cross herself have to say? The “Jesuit, Catholic Tradition” section of our website [2] identifies three ways “we honor the Jesuit legacy” (again, suggesting the past). They are: “humanistic studies,” “solidarity with the poor and disenfranchised,” and “a diverse community of participants.” These are good and desirable things. They surely do flow from the Jesuit charism and tradition. But they cannot be what makes Holy Cross Jesuit; non-Jesuit colleges are just as capable of these things. Do we do them better? Maybe. But they are exterior. They are what we do, not who we are. They are, in soteriological language, Holy Cross’ “works.” Just as we are not saved by works [3], we are likewise not “made Jesuit” by them either. Holy Cross is made Jesuit by its faith, none other than the Catholic Faith, expressed through the particular Jesuit charism.  

It may seem obvious to some, but the Jesuits (the Society of Jesus) are a religious order within the Catholic Church. As a clarifying note, this means that “Jesuit” has a narrow meaning that does not apply to us students or the wider college community, despite the applicability of broader categories like “Jesuit charism.” More importantly, this means that Jesuits exist in the context of the Catholic Faith, and any identity that is not properly Catholic cannot, by definition, be a Jesuit identity. This means that when Holy Cross departs from the Catholic Church (not only in explicit matters of faith but also in ethical matters), it separates itself that much from its Jesuit identity. This is not to say that non-Catholics are or should be unwelcome at Holy Cross, but merely that any institution whose core is not Catholic cannot be Jesuit. With this in mind, I do not think it is controversial to say that Holy Cross largely departs from the Catholic Church on matters of faith in thought and practice, and a still larger portion departs on ethical matters. Insofar as this is the case, Holy Cross can only pretend to be authentically Jesuit. The name “Holy Cross” is not enough, our statues of saints are not enough, and the fact that many of our students grew up going to Catholic school is not enough when we are not Christians. As long as we are not Christians, our Jesuit heritage remains merely that, heritage.

But is that it? Shall we use the Jesuits rolling in their graves in our cemetery to power the PAC? Shall we Catholics be content complaining as Holy Cross becomes increasingly “progressive,” increasingly secular, and thus less Jesuit? Shall we be cynics, satisfied with our laughter when our friends and family ask, “So is your school, like, really religious?” A pessimist may say yes, but pessimism is not Christian. Any Fenwick Review writer could write a long and provocative article about all the ways Holy Cross fails to be authentically Catholic and thus fails to be Jesuit. Maybe that is necessary. But it is not enough. What we need is to identify where Holy Cross lives out its Jesuit Charism well, and work to strengthen these points. We need to claim our Jesuit inheritance. We must participate in and promote the sacramental life of the Church at Holy Cross. We must adopt authentic Ignatian modes of prayer. We must preach the Gospel. We must pursue academic excellence, and scholarship which seeks truth and advances the cause of faith, rather than subversion. We Catholics must live in such a way that reveals the fruits of the Jesuit charism so that Holy Cross will see what it means to be authentically “Jesuit.”

Endnotes

[1] The OED defines Heritage as “the condition or state transmitted from ancestors.” Oxford English Dictionary, s.v. “heritage (n.), sense 4,” June 2024, https://doi.org/10.1093/OED/5778821977.

[2] “Jesuit, Catholic Tradition,” College of the Holy Cross, accessed November 5, 2024, https://www.holycross.edu/about-us/jesuit-catholic-tradition. 

[3] According to the Council of Trent, session six, canon 1: “If any one saith, that man may be justified before God by his own works, whether done through the teaching of human nature, or that of the law, without the grace of God through Jesus Christ; let him be anathema.”

The Little Prince of Great Peace

“For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” -Isaiah 9:6

Every convert to Catholicism had a few things that took a while to fully make sense. For me, one of these was devotion to the Child Jesus. The image, common to the cradle Catholic (and sometimes in a cradle himself), was completely foreign to me outside of the Christmas Season. As I wrestled with, and surrendered to, Marian veneration, the Papacy, and transubstantiation, I continued to dismiss the yearlong devotion to the Christ Child as a Catholic quirk, a vestige of the Middle Ages.

Consider the Child of Prague. You will find Him on grandmothers’ mantles, in basement chapel corners, and among the porcelain dolls at Goodwill. A figure of the Child Jesus in full regalia, often wearing a crown larger than his own head. His popularity raises the question: why? Why pray to the child Jesus when you could simply pray to the adult one? No one supposes that Jesus sits at the Right Hand of the Father in toddler form. Is this depiction not also historically inaccurate? Christ was surely venerated as a king from birth, but the notion that He crawled around Egypt dressed as the king of hearts is dubious at best. What, then, does the Child of Prague, and devotion to the Child Jesus more broadly, have to offer modern Catholics?

The Child Jesus surely reminds us of Christ’s humanity, and the innocent appearance of a child demands innocence from us, but this devotion also reveals social truths. When we dress the Child Jesus like a monarch, we remind ourselves that the driving force of a rightly ordered society is service to the weak. Christ tells Saint Paul that “power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). This is why He identifies Himself with the socially weak, the poor, in Matthew 25, and why Saint Paul says He took “the form of a slave” when He became man. It is no coincidence that He took this form as a child first. Children are the weakest among us. Throughout the Old Testament, God and the Hebrew authors lament the practice of child sacrifice as the particularly defiling sin of the gentile nations. In our own nation, we have killed over 63 million children in the womb since 1973. Then and now, this sin defiles entire societies because it is a complete inversion of what society is for. It is the victimization of the weaker to serve the stronger.. When Christ is born, He is vulnerable to this danger immediately, as shown when King Herod orders His death. The social message of the Child Jesus, then, is clear. If we want to build a nation that serves Christ, it must serve the weak.

The Prophet Isaiah’s “peaceful kingdom” is the model of this. He writes, “The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them… The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den.” (Isaiah 11:6, 8). The peace between the weak and strong animals in this kingdom is perfected by the presence of the child. He, the weakest, need not fear danger, because the animals’ power is directed to his service. This is the essence of social peace, hence the peacemakers are called “children of God” (Matthew 5:9). When we let the Christ Child lead us, He leads us to this peace.

The Child Jesus also demands responsibility and virtue by reminding us of our role in creation more broadly. The Catholic agrees with the environmentalist (and the Catholic environmentalist rejoices at the fact) that we create the world our children receive. In Genesis, God tasks Adam, the master and steward of creation, with tilling and keeping the ground and naming the animals. In doing so, Adam participates in God’s creative act; he helps create the world that Eve, and all generations after, will receive. All human work fits into this formula. Like Adam, we receive the world from above, we shape it, then we give it to those below. It is our responsibility to shape the world in a way pleasing to God. This principle is at the heart of Catholic Social Teaching, as it is the origin of human power and responsibility. It is what Saint Paul means when he writes, “those authorities that exist have been instituted by God (Romans 13:2), and what Jesus means when He says to Pilate, “you would have no power over me unless it had been given you from above” (John 19:11).

As this principle applies to the islands of trash that our children will inherit, and the social order they will be born into, it also applies to the world, or worldview, of each individual child. A child who does not know right from wrong, or truth from falsehood, receives the world as we give it to him. No one can escape this responsibility. Children are like sponges. All you do around a child will create his world. If you sin, his world is sinful. If you lie, his world is false. Sin and falsehood will become to the child like water to a fish. The child, then, serves the unique, Christlike role of receiving our world. In light of this, the figure of the Christ Child is ironically eschatological. In the end, when Christ receives the world that we have helped to create, He will be filling this “childish” role. Therefore, in “Alpha and Omega” fashion, the Child Jesus serves as a potent reminder of not only the Incarnation, but also the Second Coming. He reminds us that we are, in fact, creating the world we inhabit, physically and socially, and that we will be held accountable for how we have done so.