|
|
A thought about what might be behind the household problem The article, "How not to help households" really hit home; I couldn't agree more with it's analysis of the whole situation. Like Mrs. van Schaijik, I have maintained beautiful, long-lasting friendships with members of my household and will cherish the many joyful memories from our college days together. Still, I removed myself from campus after only three semesters, because household life was literally too draining -- for all the reasons mentioned in the article. Since graduating in 1989, I have often wondered how student life on campus has evolved. (I had hoped the SLO had eased up on its stringent household requirements.) Old habits die hard, it seems. With this in mind, I would like to offer a personal insight into this issue. Katie van Schaijik, Matt McGuiness, and Chris Wright all did an excellent job explaining the relationship between the Student Life Office (SLO) and the quality of household life on campus. My question is why would the SLO persist in such heavy-handedness? What makes their mode of operation -- one that often results in placing unnecessary and burdensome demands on students&emdash;seem to them like the appropriate course of action? I suggest that the problem might be in an underlying set of pastoral concepts (inherited from the covenant communities) that are lacking a Catholic fullness, specifically in their depreciation of human nature and their over-emphasis on sin and weakness. I believe this was the case when I attended the University; it was inherent in much of the "formation" I received outside the classroom. From teachings that discouraged dating (so we wouldn't "fall into sin") to the intense stress on household commitments -- the underlying thinking seemed to be: do not trust yourself; you are weak; put your trust in others (the community on campus, your household, advisors or spiritual directors.) Just the fact that SLO thought it necessary to provide so many extra-sacramental formation programs seems to me to indicate an imbalance. It points to a notion that students need to be protected from themselves (because, with their essentially sinful nature, they are apt to give in to every kind of depravity known or unknown) by bombarding them with a deluge of teachings, retreats, and household meetings. As I understand it, the SLO's goal is to help students become strong, moral, Catholic people. This is unequivocally a great and noble goal. But will these means accomplish it? It seems to me the very opposite is more likely to happen. Students will mistrust themselves and become dependent on support structures that won't be there for them when they graduate. By quashing students' self-confidence another negative consequence is set in motion: neurotic introspection and false guilt syndromes. This type of introspection was rampant on campus while I attended, and it tempted students to focus mainly on their weaknesses with regard to "spiritual" matters, with those weaknesses being used as a way of relating to others. One example of this was the growing "inner healing" movement on campus. While I attended FUS, it seemed everyone needed inner healing for some reason. I knew several people whose "woundedness" became their basic identity. More and more students were encouraged to see professional counselors. It was almost as if seeing a counselor gave students a higher status among their peers. My thoughts are that these students had given so much power to their weaknesses they had learned to fear sin rather than to hate it. I realize that I am touching on a sensitive area , but I mean no disrespect to those who genuinely needed God's healing touch. What I criticize is not the quiet workings of the Holy Spirit toward wholeness within the person, but rather a campus culture that emphasizes human weakness, instead of intellectual interests, personal accomplishments or shared Christian values. I can't stress enough how destructive this fixation on human frailty was. While household members were staunchly supportive of one another, the amount of emotional baggage shared at regular meetings was overwhelming. The household was meant to provide a supportive, nurturing environment in which to grow in Christian virtue and character, instead it began to resemble an amateur twelve-step program! As coordinator of a household for one year, I often felt anxious and ill equipped to help those in need. And I know our household was not unusual in this respect. By making these criticisms, however, I do not want to devalue the importance of one's community. The warm Christian community that surrounds FUS makes evident the fact that no man is an island. I was blessed many times over to have friends close by when going through difficulties, large or small. I am simply pointing out that one also needs to learn how to deal with life's daily struggles, to certain extent, on one's own. We need to make our own decisions and grow in the confidence of being able to do so -- without demanding the constant affirmation of others. Most importantly, each of us needs to know that, because of Christ's sacrifice on the Cross, we are essentially good, and that we operate in this world through this goodness to grow more in His likeness. While I am very grateful that I was able to attend FUS, I believe I, like many others, struggled unnecessarily for the reasons already mentioned. Fortunately, during my final semester, I took a course on the life and philosophy of Pope John Paul II. The understanding I gained in this course dramatically changed my view of myself and of Catholicism -- making my faith more human, more real and more joyful than ever before. Suddenly, I felt free from the over-emphasized "flesh-is-weak" teachings that I had slavishly tried to understand and follow in my earlier years at FUS. Reading John Paul II's Love and Responsibility and the encyclical The Redeemer of Man, I began to realize that my human nature, though at times weak and sinful, was redeemed by Christ. Truly, I can't begin to explain all the ways the teachings of our Holy Father have impacted my life for the good. It all seemed so revolutionary at the time, perhaps because I had followed some not-so-Catholic teachings while on campus -- teachings that underestimated the gift humanity is. Certainly, it is right that we confess our sins and do penance; our life in Christ is a pilgrimage, often an uphill battle, and slip-ups are inevitable. Nevertheless, the SLO could help the "journey" by respecting, and therefore calling-out, the intrinsic goodness students and all persons freely possess in Christ. In doing so, students will surely become the morally strong Catholic people the world thirsts for.
Martha (Cotton) Blandford, Class of '89
Student Life Office's image tarnished by failure to respond to thoughtful criticism Last Fall Katie van Schaijik wrote and published an interesting article concerning household life at the University. The piece analyzed problems she sees in household living and their relation to the Student Life Office. As an alumna of an FUS household, and a former household adviser, I found the points she raised to be thought-provoking and worthy of discussion. With the arrival of each successive issue of the Concourse I expected to see a reply from some member of the Student Life staff refuting her arguments, defending current practices, or at least offering some explanation that might help mitigate the serious concerns she raised. None came. Since its inception the Concourse has covered diverse topics relating to Catholic culture and the life at Franciscan University ranging from pop music to the liturgy. I have greatly admired those authors who have boldly voiced their views in their particular areas of interest and expertise, despite the personal and professional risks involved in doing so. I think of Dr. Andrew Minto vs. Attorney Mark Fischer on music, Dr. Stephen Miletic debating with Dr. John Crosby on Distance Education, and alumnae wrangling with professors over complicated economics issues. Other distinguished authors have included Dr. Alice von Hildebrand, Fr. Giles Dimmock, O.P., Dr. John Holmes, as well as students such as Michael Healy, Jr. All of them real people butting up against real people, daring to voice perhaps unpopular convictions, for the sake of helping us discourse toward truth in sometimes difficult subjects. It is noteworthy that this has been done within the milieu of a small community where "opponents" may be fellow students, friends or colleagues, who may belong to the same parishes and meet face to face frequently. These writers, by participating in intellectual discussions, have embraced the true spirit of a University that is alive with thinkers, male and female, young and old. I am thinking of a University that is not in the business of producing clones, but rather, releasing persons with fully functioning intellectual capabilities. The formal Mission Statement of our University makes a point of proclaiming its commitment to this sort of strong intellectual formation. However, by not responding to intelligent and obviously well-meant criticism, the Student Life Office is tempting us to believe that they do not operate in the spirit of a lively University brimming with ideas and discussion but, alas, sadly operates in the flat spirit of "no discourse." It may be easier to deal with students who are placid, docile and non-questioning (a point raised in the VanShaijik article), but we must ask: Is this right for a University? I urge Student Life to the retrieve its image, now tarnished by inappropriate silence, by answering the challenges posed by Katie van Schaijik's article.
Susan Creel Fischer, Class of '84
I am glad that a little footnote of mine could serve as the inspiration for such an interesting article by Michael Healy, who, in the last issue of the Concourse, defended in detail the probability of Tolkien's Middle Earth.(1) The intimate knowledge of Tolkien that Mr. Healy shared is fascinating, and unveils the complexity and genius of the great mind who introduced the world to Bilbo Baggins. However, I must persist in my original claim that the real existence of creatures like those created by Tolkien's imagination is incompatible with our Faith. At the end of his article, Mr. Healy readily admitted that he does not personally believe there are aliens or elves loosed in the cosmos, but he does not think that Catholic doctrine excludes the possibility of their existence, nor of their salvation through Christ if they were to exist. Truly I am with him in the proposal of expedient evangelization and catechesis of non-human sentient life forms, should we be introduced, but I remain unconvinced that anticipation of such an event is warranted. I draw your attention to the unfortunate fact that by Adam's sin all of creation fell from grace. According to St. Paul, "All of creation is in bondage to decay," (Rom. 8:20). Obviously, "all of creation" extends beyond our earth and into the farthest recesses of the universe; therefore any planet where aliens could exist is also "in bondage to decay," as is our own. A non-human sentient race, existing in our space and time,(2) born without original sin would not be compatible with a fallen creation; a non-human sentient race born with original sin would not be just, for it is the race of men alone who brought the downfall of creation. As this applies to Tolkien, I will concede that any of his characters springing directly from Adam and Eve (such as the pigmy hobbits) could exist as long as they retained their entire humanity. But any race that claimed separate origins, or mixed origins (such as elves or orcs) could not, precisely because there is evidence, as Mr. Healy sufficiently proved, to believe that Tolkien intended his Middle Earth to be our Earth in the distant past. In light of the discussion on this topic, I would now like to modify my original footnote to read thus: "I regret to note my theory rules out the possibility of the real existence of most of the inhabitants of Tolkien's Middle-Earth," -- but (again) I see no way around it.
Justine Schmiesing, Class of '94
© The University Concourse, April 30, 1998 |
