In my opinion, the author of the following story, whoever he may be, must have intended to make some veiled reference to the characters created by the writer G. K. Chesterton in some of his stories (I am thinking, for example, of “Manalive” from 1912, a story written, among other things, well before the writer entered the Catholic Church, which happened in 1922, so that the work can fully be considered as written by a “lay writer”). The author of the present story may not have the same artistic flair or the same wit as Chesterton, but I believe that in any case the points touched upon can offer interesting food for thought.
Rev. John R. D’Orazio
The Skiing Outing of Reverend White and Professor Sophis
(that is, a reflection on Catholicism and the university institution)
A cold wind was blowing as the skiers prepared for the first morning ascents on the snow-covered hills. A very fresh, soft white mantle had covered the mountains that very night. The earliest risers were already beginning to go up the slopes, tracing, like pioneers, paths that others would then be able to follow, making their descents more easily. While the icy cold and the prevailing whiteness might in other contexts have lent themselves to creating feelings of bleakness in the midst of a wild natural setting, on this occasion instead they heightened a sense of freshness and beauty. Among the “pioneer” skiers was a Catholic priest by the name of Reverend Innocent White, who could not bring himself to give up his short stay in the mountains to restore his body with exhilarating descents through the woods. Clearly, in the relaxed and sporting context of this activity, he dressed in suitable clothing, although his identity was thus concealed—were it not for his white hair and serene eyes, which often gave him away, almost as though the word “priest” were stamped on his forehead. As he was getting onto the chairlift to begin the ascent toward the high peaks, another courageous skier came forward with the same intention of being among the first to touch that freshly fallen snow. The Reverend seemed to recognize something familiar in his chance skiing companion… Yet after the initial pleasantries, as they tried to coordinate with each other in order to position their skis so they could pull down the safety bar, he began to comment on the quality of the snowfall from the previous night. Their conversation continued, stirring in each of them a feeling of pride at being among the first to trace a path on the slopes that day. It became a point of pride to inaugurate the descents. At a certain point, however, our Reverend White’s companion in misfortune looked at him more closely and, after a very brief pause for reflection, exclaimed peremptorily: “Tell me, adventurer, are you not by any chance the Reverend who hangs around the corridors of our university institution? At least I seem to have caught sight of you around there…” At these words the Reverend immediately remembered who his chance companion in misfortune might be and replied: “Good heavens, I thought I recognized you; you teach a philosophy course, if I am not mistaken?” In fact, his chairlift companion was a professor of philosophy, and he held the chair at that very same university where the Reverend carried out his pastoral ministry. The professor’s name was Cyrus Sophis, and in life he devoted himself to the knowledge and teaching of the ancient philosophical sciences. But he too did not disdain taking a breath of fresh air for a few days each year, testing himself against the adventures the mountains offered. The professor replied with a pleased air, “I do not merely teach a course; I coordinate all the courses, if you please. I, however, would have a few observations to make.” The professor’s voice suddenly became less jovial, more solemn. The atmosphere of adventure that had marked their conversation up to that moment began to fade, and the professor’s face took on rather severe features.
Professor Sophis: You must explain something to me… what may I call you? Reverend, Monsignor, Father…
Reverend White: Feel free to call me adventurer; I do not mind.
Professor Sophis: Then I shall call you Reverend. I honestly do not understand why the Catholic Church, as a religious institution, has all this interest in universities, which are secular institutions.
Reverend White noticed the professor’s inquisitive look, yet he maintained his usual joviality and serenity, and after a brief pause for reflection he attempted to rephrase the professor’s question.
Reverend White: Let us take a step back in order to understand the ground on which we are setting foot. Why should anyone be interested in universities? That is, what is the purpose of the university? If the University presents itself as a place that safeguards and transmits human knowledge, and as a place useful for forming young people and helping them to specialize with a view to a profession that allows them to make a significant contribution to society, then we have a basis from which to begin our question. We can rephrase the question and now ask: why is the Catholic Church interested in safeguarding and transmitting human knowledge, and in forming young people with a view to a profession? Posed in this way, then, I would say that with a historical perspective we can begin to understand the relationship between the Church and human knowledge.
First of all, I would say that one cannot overlook this starting point: namely, the relationship between the Church and the Gospel, the proclamation of the news that the God of Jesus is a living God who cares for humanity and who sent his Son into the world to save and to give eternal life. You will say to me, what does this have to do with human knowledge? Well, while the Church’s primary concern is to receive this message of salvation and transmit it to future generations, I find it significant that among the first to carry out this work was Paul of Tarsus, who, educated at the school of Gamaliel and later converted to Christianity, in the act of announcing in the Areopagus of Athens the news of the Resurrection of Jesus, thereby proclaiming him Son of God, sets the proclamation of the Gospel in dialogue with the sayings of the Greek poets and with local customs (the pagan altar dedicated to the “Unknown God”). This speech of Paul at the Areopagus is an early example of the Catholic Church’s interest in human knowledge. In the proclamation of the Gospel, Paul, and then the Church, do not disdain culture and human knowledge, but set them in dialogue, take what is good and positive in the culture to which they address themselves and show that, in the final analysis, they have the same underlying concern: the search for truth. Paul expressed his thought openly in the square of the Areopagus. He was mocked by some that day when he spoke of the resurrection of the dead, but he was listened to attentively by a certain Dionysius as well as by a certain Damaris, who were that day among the crowd of scholars in Athens. And Dionysius himself later became another example of the Catholic Church’s interest in human knowledge: indeed, he, who was a jurist and judge of the Areopagus, inspired a prolific ancient writer some centuries later, who used his name when he produced a vast collection of writings of a mystical and philosophical nature in a Neoplatonic vein (Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite). So too Justin the Philosopher (2nd century), who was educated in paganism by attending many philosophical schools, from the Stoics to the Peripatetic school, to the Pythagorean school, and finally the Platonic school. After converting to Christianity, he opened in Rome a philosophical school of Christian inspiration. Justin does not disdain the knowledge of the ancient philosophers either, but values it, finding in the Christian message a completion of his search for the truth about God and the world. Justin appreciates everything good that exists in culture and human knowledge, speaking of the “seeds of the eternal Word scattered throughout the world”. He sought to translate the Christian proclamation into philosophical terms, so that it would be more understandable to the “scholars” of his time.
Over the centuries the Church’s love for human knowledge continued. Beginning in the 5th-6th centuries in fact, monasteries in the West became places for the preservation of ancient culture and knowledge. Let us think of Cassiodorus and Boethius. In addition to handing down patristic Christian thought, beginning especially with the period of the Crusades, the monasteries helped to rediscover the knowledge of the ancient philosophers. Without the contribution of the monks who preserved these codices (which seem to have reached the West through some crusader soldier who plundered them from some library in the East), copying them by hand and keeping them in libraries, today we would have much less of the patrimony of humanity’s thought at our disposal. We would be missing an important piece of human knowledge in its historical development. Monasteries became centers of study, research, and teaching in a great variety of disciplines. Monks specialized in research in the fields of medicine (let us think of the contributions of Hildegard of Bingen at the beginning of the 12th century), philosophy (let us think of Augustine of Hippo, 4th-5th century, who places the Christian faith in dialogue with the thought of Plato; let us think of the interest of Albert the Great in the 13th century in Aristotle as well as in Dionysius the Areopagite), the natural sciences, logic and mathematics and geometry… Let us think of Scholasticism which defines the methodology of research and teaching of both human and Christian knowledge, divided between the Trivium and the Quadrivium: from Alcuin of York and John Scotus Eriugena with the “schola Palatina” in the Carolingian era, together with Rabanus Maurus, to Anselm of Aosta and Peter Abelard in the 11th century… History is so rich that here, in a few words, it is certainly difficult to summarize the close relationship that has existed in history between the Catholic Church and the study / teaching of human knowledge. When the first universities were born, the Catholic Church was not absent: already in the 10th century the University of Parma was founded for the study of law, by decree of Emperor Otto I conferred upon the bishop of Parma. In the centuries that followed, with the birth of “secular” universities, the Popes continued to support and contribute to the development of academic institutions. I think, for example, of the gift that Pope Benedict XIV made to the University of Bologna in the 18th century to promote the new Institute of Sciences by providing his library. The universities of Paris and Oxford were distinguished for the study of philosophy and theology. Even in the modern era, the Catholic Church continues its work of preserving human knowledge through its own university institutions, which specialize in teaching not only Christian theology, but also philosophy, psychology, the sciences of education, the sciences of communication, law and jurisprudence, literature and art, etc. etc.
And if, in addition to this history of dialogue and encounter between the thought of the Church that proclaims the Gospel and human philosophical thought, we also consider the humanitarian concern of the Church, which over the centuries gave rise to institutions such as hospitals, banks, schools, then I would say that the Church is also concerned with human advancement, education and professional competence. I think of the Encyclical of Pope Paul VI in 1967 entitled “Populorum Progressio” in which he explains what the Catholic Church’s concern is for social development and how social development belongs to her very vocation in the world:
«In addition to professional organizations, cultural institutions are likewise at work, and their role is no less important for the success of development. “The future of the world would be in danger,” the Council gravely declares, “if our age did not know how to bring forth from its midst men endowed with wisdom.” And it adds: “Many countries that are economically poor but rich in wisdom will be able to give powerful help to others in this regard.” Rich or poor, every country possesses its own civilization received from past generations: institutions required for the conduct of earthly life and higher manifestations—artistic, intellectual and religious—of the life of the spirit. When the latter contain true human values, it would be a grave error to sacrifice them to the former.»
Taking into account, therefore, the Church’s social concern for the development of the human person, in addition to having her own university institutions, the Church continues to support and encourage secular university institutions. In the Code of Canon Law promulgated in 1983, we read:
«Can. 807 – The Church has the right to establish and direct universities of studies, which contribute to a deeper culture of peoples and to a fuller advancement of the human person, and likewise to fulfilling the teaching function of the Church herself.
Can. 813 – The diocesan Bishop is to have an intense pastoral care of students, even by erecting a parish, or at least through priests stably appointed for this purpose, and is to provide that at universities, even non-Catholic ones, there be Catholic university centers, which offer assistance, especially spiritual assistance, to young people.»
So it is precisely in the very nature of the Catholic Church, as well as in her history from the beginning, to be interested in academic and university institutions and to have a presence, through priest chaplains, of accompaniment and dialogue for students and teachers. This interest belongs to her very vocation and is aimed at valuing the university institution as a vehicle of human advancement and as a custodian of humanity’s cultural patrimony.
Professor Sophis: However, the principle of secularism requires that there be no interference by ecclesial bodies in civil institutions. An ecclesial presence in a state university risks undermining the sacrosanct freedom of the university institution to self-determination.
Reverend White: I think we need to understand whether we really think so differently about certain principles. You would like to emphasize, for example, the value of “secularism.” I agree that secularism (although I prefer to say “laicity,” which refers simply to the state of being a secular institution, as opposed to “secularism,” which could be misunderstood as an ideology, similarly to other “-isms” that tend to refer to ideas carried to the extreme of rationality both in the political sphere and in the philosophical sphere, or to obsessive attitudes and behaviors: communism, Marxism, Nazism, racism, authoritarianism, paternalism, populism, capitalism, scientism, devotionalism… In this regard I like to recall the work of the German philosopher of Jewish origin Hannah Arendt on “The Origins of Totalitarianism” from 1951), so, as I was saying, I agree that laicity is a value to be safeguarded. And woe betide us if there is religious interference. Nor do I even think I am shooting myself in the foot by saying so. In fact, Jesus himself was a layman with respect to the society in which he lived: he was not a priest, he was not a rabbi, he was not a Pharisee, he did not hold a role of religious representation. And Jesus himself confirmed the principle of separation between the competencies of the religious sphere and of the political sphere with the iconic phrase “Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God” and again when he states that his kingdom “does not belong to this world”. If for a certain period the Church had temporal power, this was due to the collapse of the temporal power of society: with the collapse of the Roman Empire, the monasteries found themselves becoming the points of reference for peasant labor, and the Church sustained a declining society through its institutions. For centuries the Catholic Church provided schools, hospitals, banks, and various institutions that handed down human knowledge and fostered social development. When this temporal power was later taken away with the breach of Porta Pia and the occupation of the Papal States, the future Pope Montini would later state that he had “no regret, no nostalgia, nor even any secret desire to lay claim again” to the lost temporal sovereignty and he even thanked Divine Providence for the changes that occurred following the events of 1870. Therefore, today as at the beginnings of Christianity, the Catholic Church again reaffirms the value of laicity. Everything then depends on defining what the presence of the Church ought to be and how the relationship between Church and State, between ecclesial institutions and secular institutions, should be managed. I like to recall the reflections of Alexis de Tocqueville who, after a journey to the United States, writes about “Democracy in America” (1835-1840), observed with admiration the flowering of religion in this country, attributing it to the proper separation between Church and State. A separation that also means that there must be no interference by the State in the religious sphere; the Church must have the right to self-determination just as the State does. While it is not the Church’s task to dictate civil laws or determine the political choices of a country, that does not mean religion can be relegated to the private sphere. Tocqueville himself, as a layman and a promoter of laicity, saw in religion itself a conditio sine qua non of freedom: “if religion does not give them the taste for freedom, in any case it facilitates its exercise.” So, religion is to be considered a necessary condition for the exercise of freedom, not an obstacle to freedom. At least that is how it was for this lay thinker, the very originator of “laicity”. Tocqueville admires the moral role of religion in society, saying that “at the same time as the law allows the American people the right to do everything, religion prevents them from conceiving any sort of behavior and preserves them from daring to do just anything.”
In an address to parliamentarians in 2006, Pope Benedict XVI reaffirmed the beneficial contribution that the presence of the Catholic Church in the public sphere entails for society and for democracy itself:
«Your support for the Christian heritage can also contribute decisively to defeating a culture that has now clearly spread throughout Europe and that relegates the manifestation of one’s religious convictions to the private and subjective sphere. Policies founded on this basis imply not only the repudiation of the public role of Christianity, but more generally they exclude engagement with Europe’s religious tradition, which is extremely clear despite its confessional varieties, becoming a threat to democracy itself, whose strength depends on the values it promotes (cf. “Evangelium vitae”, 70).
Since this tradition, precisely in its so-called polyphonic unity, transmits values that are fundamental for the good of society, the European Union can only be enriched by engaging with it. It would be a sign of immaturity, or even of weakness, to oppose it or ignore it, rather than to enter into dialogue with it. In this context, the existence of a certain secularist intransigence must be recognized, which is hostile to tolerance and to a sound secular conception of the State and of society.
For this reason, I am pleased that the Constitutional Treaty of the European Union provides for a structured and ongoing relationship with religious communities, recognizing their identity and their specific contribution. I trust that the effective and proper application of this relationship will now begin with the cooperation of all political movements, regardless of party positions.
It must not be forgotten that, when Churches or ecclesial communities intervene in public debate, expressing reservations or recalling principles, they are not manifesting forms of intolerance or interference, because these interventions seek only to enlighten consciences, so that people may act freely and responsibly, according to the authentic demands of justice, even if this may come into conflict with situations of power and personal interest.
As far as the Catholic Church is concerned, the principal interest of her interventions in public life centers on the protection and promotion of the dignity of the person…»
So then I can say with full conviction that the Church wants to uphold laicity, but without thereby falling into a secularism that risks falling short of the very principle of tolerance that it would like to impart to society, or that risks undermining democracy itself and the exercise of freedom which are, after all, values present today also thanks to the contribution of the Church (I am thinking of the radio address of Pope Pius XII in 1944 in which he praised democracy as the form of government most suited to our times).
Professor Sophis: I grant that the Church has the right to freedom of expression; we are in a democratic country. But however just and non-negotiable this principle may be, it does not fit very well within an institution such as the university, which has its own program of professionalism and scientific rigor. Individual political, ideological, or confessional factions risk undermining the neutrality and professionalism of an institution that stands above mere opinion with an established scientific knowledge.
Reverend White: It seems to me that one of your first concerns is to maintain what you call “neutrality.” Maintaining neutrality means not favoring one position over another. On the one hand, however, I wonder how possible it is to be completely “neutral,” especially when it comes to questions in the humanities. When ethical questions of human behavior are touched upon, there will always be a pluralism of approach. So I would distinguish between being partial and being factional. I do not know how possible it is to be impartial on certain issues, but one must try at least not to be factional! When it is a matter of speaking of “good” and “evil” for man, one cannot be impartial by placing “good” and “evil” on the same level. If the university institution is directed toward human advancement, then it will be devoted to the pursuit of man’s good, and it will not be able to place good and evil on the same level. Therefore, besides speaking of “scientific rigor,” we must also speak of “human advancement.” We must ask not only to what extent a meeting that takes place within the institution, or that is in any case announced within the institution, has a scientific character, but also to what extent it is directed toward human advancement.
But from the moment that you take away the voice of one of the two (or of the many) positions on one question or another, you are already favoring the other (or the other) positions… And already neutrality falls short. At that point one would have either to take away everyone’s voice, or else to listen to everyone’s voice.
For the sake of convenience, the easiest path is to take away everyone’s voice. I would make another observation, however: by taking away the voice of everyone, dialogue and exchange disappear. Dialogue and exchange are a condition for cultural advancement itself. Even in experimental scientific research, exchange with other scientists and with their research and experiments is fundamental. Without dialogue or listening to the other, there is no cultural enrichment. Neutrality does not mean reducing oneself to a single possible way of thinking, but accepting the pluralism of reality.
In this regard, I like to recall the words of Pope Francis during his visit to Roma Tre University on February 17, 2017:
«And the University can also be a place where the culture of encounter and of welcome toward people of different cultural and religious traditions is developed. Nour, who comes from Syria, referred to the “fear” of Westerners toward foreigners insofar as they might “threaten the Christian culture of Europe.” Apart from the fact that the first threat to the Christian culture of Europe comes precisely from within Europe, closing in on oneself or on one’s own culture is never the way to restore hope and bring about social and cultural renewal. A culture is strengthened in openness and in exchange with other cultures, provided that it has a clear and mature awareness of its own principles and values. I therefore encourage teachers and students to live the University as an environment of true dialogue, which neither flattens differences nor exacerbates them, but opens the way to constructive exchange. We are called to understand and appreciate the values of the other, overcoming the temptations of indifference and fear. Never be afraid of encounter, of dialogue, of exchange.»
He even goes so far as to say, in the address delivered off the cuff: «Where there is no dialogue, there is violence» Here is the role of the Catholic Church with regard to the University: a presence that fosters dialogue and exchange even among the various disciplines within the same university. A presence that encourages and facilitates a spirit of community, solidarity, and cultural sharing.
It is clear that it is not appropriate to give a voice to someone who is factional, because at that moment the institution loses its professionalism and its character as a promoter of the good of the human person and of civil society. As you yourself say, one must focus on the scientific quality of the meetings and events that take place within the institution, but one must also encourage their character of human advancement, and one must not reduce oneself to being a censor perhaps on the basis of one’s own opinions and ethical convictions thereby failing in the very principle of neutrality (or at least of “non-factionalism”) that you yourself affirm.
How, then, can a “non-factionalism” be guaranteed within an institution? I like to recall the reflections of John Madison on this matter, when he was tasked by Alexander Hamilton with contributing to the study of the most appropriate form of government for guaranteeing democracy. In No. 10 of the “Federalist” he addresses the question of the danger posed by factions to the common good, and asks whether it is possible to eliminate the causes of factions rather than contain their effects. Removing the causes, however, would mean destroying liberty. Madison’s phrase remains iconic: “liberty is to faction what air is to fire.” Liberty, however, is essential for political life. Another solution would be to make society homogeneous in opinions and interests, but this hypothesis too is equally impracticable. Madison says, “the latent causes of faction are sown in the nature of man itself,” and so one cannot think of eliminating the causes. Therefore the only way to limit the harm caused by factions is to control their effects. The solution proposed by Madison is that of “representativeness,” typical of a republic. And indeed the university too is organized with collegial bodies, with representatives of the students and of student associations. At the same time, external associations and institutions that offer useful services to the institution can enter into agreements and conventions that define the ways in which those same services are provided and that guarantee them the effective possibility of providing that same service. This is what happened between the Italian State and the Catholic Church with the signing of the Lateran Pacts in 1929 and with the other subsequent agreements. For this reason the Catholic Church weaves diplomatic relations with the various countries of the world, sending apostolic nuncios and receiving the ambassadors of the various countries to the Vatican State. Sometimes the trust existing in relations between institutions may also suffice, without the need to sign a specific agreement; there can be a mutual recognition on the basis of the services provided. Thus the Catholic Church with its representatives, with its dioceses and its ecclesiastical entities, with its lay associations, offers today, as always, significant services to university institutions, with or without conventions, according to the service offered: student residences, scholarships, international and local scientific conferences, cultural trips, professional training courses… The list is not exhaustive and could continue much further, but we will stop after making just a few references.
Therefore, when you refer to “individual confessional factions,” you are pointing to the Catholic Church as a faction within society. I am not going to engage in apologetics on the question of whether Catholicism is to be considered a faction or not; I will limit myself to considering whether Catholicism offers a useful contribution to society and in particular to that form of society which is the university institution. If we take into account that the Catholic Church as an institution enjoys diplomatic agreements with the Italian State and with various countries of the world, and that it enjoys institutional agreements with very many secular institutions, then I would say that it enjoys a certain dignity that prevents it from falling into the category of a “harmful faction” to society. And I would say that with this we have already answered that question.
In the meantime, the two adventurers had reached the top of the mountain. Having got off the chairlift that had carried them effortlessly to the starting point for their descent, they prepared to launch themselves down toward the valley, enjoying the exhilaration of that natural setting which transformed so frigid a climate into an atmosphere capable of tempering the body and, who knows, perhaps even the spirit.
