A theologian's view: avoiding a rush to judgment.

Could it be true that an "impasse" has been reached between mainstream American Catholic higher education and the U.S. bishops over the "application" of Ex corde ecclesiae to our Catholic colleges and universities? The situation is increasingly described this way, most recently by my own university's president, Edward "Monk" Malloy, C.S.C., in an article in America ("'Ex Corde Ecclesiae' Creates an Impasse," January 30), co-authored with J. Donald Monan, S.J., chancellor of Boston College. I submit that with some creative thinking and a measure of trust on both sides, we can get beyond this impasse. Both sides, however, will have to think carefully about what is truly important to them in this debate if the loser in all of this is not to be the precious gem of American Catholic education. Let each side make every attempt to draw back from such an ugly prospect as an "impasse." Let us begin by making a commitment to proceed together with caution.

I will begin with universities and colleges. Mainstream Catholic education has reacted with alarm to the possibility that Catholic institutions' "academic freedom" (as defined in a U.S. context) might be compromised by the Holy See's request for specific ordinances in the proposed "application" (by requiring, among other things, that teachers of theology receive a mandate to teach from the local bishop). This is one of the primary concerns of the article cited above, and I share its reservations. Still, we spokespersons for colleges and universities, and even departments of theology, have felt too free to issue strong calls for academic freedom without any corresponding call - or, more to the point, correspondingly strong call - for Catholic identity and mission. Calls for academic freedom without corresponding calls for Catholic identity seem completely empty to me, and are bound to seem that way to many bishops. Such calls refuse to recognize a problem and to own up to it. Such calls fail to speak the truth where it hurts, instead of recognizing and admiring that the Holy See and the bishops are right in their fears that some Catholic universities have not always paid enough attention to Catholic identity and mission, and have been in danger of losing them, or at least, of seeming ashamed of them. It is not enough to admit "occasional reason for localized concern" (pace Chancellor Monan and President Malloy) regarding Catholic identity, while making impassioned calls for the preservation of academic freedom. Amid the perfectly appropriate pursuit of "academic excellence," Catholic higher education has been tempted to forget that its Catholic identity is itself an "excellence" worth preserving, one which gives all the other "excellences" an added value.

Academic freedom is never absolute anywhere. This is a commonplace, but worth remembering. Academic freedom is compromised by pressures from the left as well as from the right. Pressures from the right are obvious and imminent. Are we at the point where suggesting in class that women's ordination is debatable would disqualify one from teaching "Catholic theology" (and I am not here stating a view on women's ordination)? But one also hears stories of professors (not at Notre Dame, I hasten to add) worrying that they will fail to be tenured if they customarily refer to God with a male pronoun. And in gender studies departments, even at Catholic universities, job applicants or junior professors may not feel very "free" to advocate Catholic positions generally abhorrent to the secular academic culture in the United States (for example, on prolife issues).

Academic freedom is always guided by norms, spoken or unspoken. Catholic universities already recognize this to the extent that hiring decisions are made with the specific mission of a Catholic university in mind. A good example would be the decision not to hire a biblical scholar who styles him or herself as "postbiblical," as having no commitment to the Bible as an authoritative theological source, even if he or she is the applicant with the most publications and honors. It is my belief (and certainly my hope) that such a person would not be hired for a biblical studies position in any Catholic university. This is a concession to Catholic identity and against unqualified "academic freedom," one which most departments of theology at a Catholic university, liberal or not, would make. If so, Catholic colleges and universities must then be prepared to examine seriously where we actually are on the issue of academic freedom, as opposed to where political sloganeering might put us. Are we after all prepared to let our Catholic ideals and identity lapse in favor of a protean, market-driven ideal itself never unqualifiedly endorsed ("academic freedom")?

On the other hand, I respectfully submit that the bishops too should carefully reflect on their own position and what they are really prepared to lose or not to lose. It is not a time for posturing on their side either. Catholic educators in this country have been engaged in the brilliant experiment of trying to create truly great universities which are recognized as such but which are also Catholic (ideally, great in many ways because Catholic). But can a university which is not recognized as a bona fide university in its own cultural context, truly have the effect that John Paul II calls for in Ex corde ecclesiae? Can universities bear witness to evangelical values in cultures so sorely in need of such witness if their credibility as universities is compromised or nil? Some Catholic colleges may be too ready to yield to the model of a university shaped by the culture at large rather than shaping that culture addicted to prestige or "praise" as Augustine would say. But there is just as much danger of losing the opportunity to influence culture in the ways appropriate for universities if we lose our identity as such. If Catholic universities are simply, tout court, an arm of the church, an unmediated venue of the magisterium, they will simply be seen as glorified pulpits built for an unnecessarily complicated form of preaching or indoctrination.

This applies to theology too. The bishops are right to worry about departments of theology which seem to have become pervasively or unremittingly critical of the magisterium, where critique has become, as it were, the "default" mode. Where that is true, we have lost the power to inspire anyone. When we have forgotten how to speak positively out of our ideals as Catholics, we have ceased to make available and to interpret to those we are educating the ideals of the church to which we say we belong. Unremitting criticism inspires no one. Instead it leaves listeners wondering why those so pervasively critical remain in the church. Still, it is easy to move from worries along these lines to gross underestimates of the excellent work going on in departments of theology at many of our universities. In an academy where departments of religious studies are increasingly the norm, where "religion" is studied by "intellectuals" as a cultural artifact and not a living faith, the department of theology stands for a method of "faith seeking understanding."

The goal is to provide students with the astonishing awareness that faith - yes, the very familiar and "simple" faith of their family and friends - can speak just as articulately and sophisticatedly as the other sciences and arts; that it can withstand questioning and sophisticated critique; that it can be self-critical; that it has had expression in the many genres represented from Gregory's life of Benedict to Thomas's summae, from Hildegard's visions to Dante's Commedia and everything in between; that faith can still be itself and speak in a variety of cultural voices; that it is embraced by sophisticated liberals as well as sophisticated conservatives.

All of this amounts to a powerful apologetic for the faith and the tradition, one that is irreplaceable and much more vigorous than an outsider may suspect. Students frequently comment, in unmistakably grateful terms, on how these courses "changed their life" and caused them to "grow in their faith" or even to return to faith. At the same time, they often remark on how glad they were that their theology courses were not simply "preaching." Of course, stories circulate about people who "lose their faith" in theology classes, but such anecdotes are vastly exaggerated, and students who begin to doubt because they have read eighteenth-century critiques of miracles, or gospels other than the canonical four, are often simply on a track to a more mature faith.

The apologetic enterprise I have just described is vitiated if it occurs in an atmosphere where inquiry is closed off in certain crucial directions - where professors cannot say certain things, where debate on certain issues is foreclosed in theology faculties but not elsewhere in the university (for example, in sociology or history), where some faculty and indeed many students will feel they must hide their true feelings about an issue, where the minority of Protestants or Jews on theological faculties will no longer be present as full colleagues but as less-than-full dialogue partners in pursuit of truth, empowered to speak and teach only by concession and only insofar as they do not disagree with the magisterium. Where these conditions of truncated dialogue and debate prevail, apologetics will ultimately suffer, for one thing, from the suspicion that in fact it is only in an atmosphere of restricted inquiry that the faith can be articulated and defended. There is a truly magic moment when it dawns on a student that the faith can be strongly articulated and defended in a university environment, with freedom of thought and expression, freedom to assent or dissent. We stand to lose that moment and the pedagogy that fosters it. There may be a short-term gain in drastic measures, but the long term will register a loss.

Here is my proposal. Let the bishops agree to a five-year moratorium on the debate over juridical imposition, with the agreement that Catholic universities use the time to respond explicitly to the call of Ex corde for renewal ("Catholic universities are called to a continuous renewal both as universities and as Catholic"). Calls for academic freedom are not credible if they do not recognize or embrace the call for renewal as well. My idea is that universities would agree to use this time to take certain concrete measures toward renewal. Specifically, let us take the time to incorporate some of the good idealistic language of Ex corde into our mission statements, many of which are insipid - sometimes embarrassingly vacuous - when it comes to Catholic identity.

Why not explicitly identify ourselves with the following: "In a Catholic university, research necessarily includes (a) the search for an integration of knowledge, (b) a dialogue between faith and reason, (c) an ethical concern, and (d) a theological perspective"? Or, "a specific priority is the need to examine and evaluate the predominant values and norms of modern society and culture in a Christian perspective and the responsibility to try to communicate to society those ethical and religious principles which give full meaning to human life"? Or, "a Catholic university, aware that human culture is open to revelation and transcendence, is also a primary and privileged place for a fruitful dialogue between the gospel and culture"?

Universities should challenge themselves to articulate these ideals and continue to find ways to put them into practice. If they are not comfortable articulating these ideals, then maybe they have in fact lost their identity, and the bishops will be vindicated in their efforts to impose juridical mandates. But it seems to me that a mission statement with a strong articulation of Catholic identity, in the context of a university with a strong commitment to academic freedom, presents the right balance: a public, university-wide statement of ideals to which all in the university hold themselves responsible in guiding such things as hiring decisions, policies toward employees, etc. Here is the basis for vigorous, locally owned discussion, appropriation, adaptation, and renewal of ideals, rather than the imposition of oaths bound to be taken cynically by many and with all manner of private reservations even by relative conservatives.

The bishops, for their part, should allow such a period of self-conscious, self-undertaken renewal. Even if my arguments are not regarded as altogether convincing, they should at least be enough to give pause. Something of great value to both educators and bishops is at stake. Caution would seem prudent. It is difficult to impose genuine renewal by fiat. Furthermore, great cultural revolutions often destroy what they set about to renew. There is no harm in a respectful degree of caution on both sides. Does anyone agree?

John C. Cavadini is chair of the department of of theology at the University of Notre Dame.