The very fact that John O. Mudd does not mention religious brothers along with sisters and priests in running Catholic health institutions in his article From C.E.O. to Mission Leader (7/18) leads me to believe that he is not aware of the success of the Alexian Brothers in combining sound management practices with a sense of mission. Some time ago they stopped running old red brick facilities and now have replaced them with at least six modern institutions stretching from Milwaukee to Signal Mountain, Tenn., all of them recognized for maintaining their sense of mission combined with management expertise. A few brothers and many dedicated lay leaders have done this.
Francis Jordan
Reading Of Many Things by George M. Anderson, S.J., in the October 10 issue was an uplifting and enjoyable experience. Not only was the human success story of Jos in overcoming his past problems and bad experiences heartwarming; it also offered a good example of peacemaking/humanistic criminology in action. Here we see restorative justice in living form.
I currently teach two undergraduate sections of Probation and Parole: Theory and Practice and will bring this piece to the attention of my students to demonstrate not only the moral philosophical aspect of this component of American corrections, but also the positive and uplifting attitude of Jos’s parole officer, who, when his client stumbled, did not initiate a revocation procedure but reached out to him saying, I’ll work with you.
Truly, with such stories as this, there is hope for our criminal justice system.
James J. Green
As staff theologian for Cardinal Joseph Bernardin from 1985 until his death, I commend the editorial A Culture of Life (9/25) for reminding us once again of Cardinal Bernardin’s efforts with regard to a consistent ethic of life. In particular I applaud the observation that no one image or idea can bear the weight of the whole conversation. No one was more aware of this than the cardinal.
As regards images, for example, the cardinal spoke of his dying as his most important homily. The photos of the frail, dying cardinal anointing the sick, after having been anointed himself, and the stories of his ministry to fellow cancer patients evoked a sense of peace that only God could give and no homily could explain.
As regards ideas, the vocabulary of consistent ethic was complemented by other proposals such as the Common Ground Initiative. A church torn by acrimony could not be a credible witness or effective partner in public discourse about protecting and enhancing human dignity.
What held so much of this together was a hopefulness that was captured, in a small measure, in his pastoral on Catholic health care, A Sign of Hope, a hope sustained by the conviction that because of God’s love for us we can live with confidence in the midst of alienation and chaos. I would suggest that without hopefulness our attempts to explore symbols and stories, as you helpfully propose, will be less than effective. Bernardin’s hopefulness was quite personal: as inviting as his blue eyes and as robust as the operas he loved. But it also reflected his appropriation of the teaching of the Second Vatican Council, in particular the image of the church as leaven. Redemption was possible in a sinful world.
As this conciliar perspective is replaced by a profound pessimism about what some consider to be the moral bankruptcy of the United States and western Europe, Bernardin’s hopefulness is viewed as being outdated, if not dangerous. Without hopefulness, it is understandable that the complexity of a consistent ethic or the labors of Common Ground-type dialogue can seem to be a waste of time.
In a few weeks we will celebrate the ninth anniversary of Cardinal Bernardin’s death. Perhaps it is time for us to ask what does the Christian virtue of hope mean today. Is it nave to trust in that which is unseen, or is this the confidence that is an appropriate platform for God’s grace?
(Rev.) Michael D. Place
Bishop Donald W. Trautman’s challenging article, Our Daily Bread (10/3), raised many concerns about the function of the World Synod of Bishops in pursuit of its mission. I urge him, once the current meeting of the synod is over, to give us the benefit of his insights and his answers, if there are any, to his questions.
John E. Dean
The article by Robert F. Drinan, S.J., Holy See Backs Nuclear Disarmament (9/12), is excellent. We need more articles on this issue and on the church’s positions on war in general. A substantial number of Catholics in the United States think that the church supports the war in Iraq.
Walter C. Hooke
You can only blame yourselves! As a Jesuit-trained scientist (Holy Cross, 1959; Ph.D. in physics from U.C.L.A., 1965), I was trained to use my Little Gray Cells (5/30) in a continual challenge of hypotheses, no matter how enticing, no matter how vigorously promulgated by respected authorities. It worked for me in a satisfying career in teaching and research at U.C.L.A., diverse foreign universities, and the University of California Davis. I taught entry-level physics for hard science majors for many years. Among the most pathetic cases I encountered were students from a conservative or evangelical background who had somehow to mesh a literal interpretation of the Bible with the overwhelming evidence of science. In many cases they resorted to God the Great Deceiver, who made the world in six days circa 5,000 years ago but imbedded in the world misleading clues about a universe 13.5 billion years old. They were not allowed to use their little gray cells in whole areas of their existence. Off limits. Do not tread there!
So are we, Catholic students and faculty together, supposed to turn off our little gray cells as we walk through the door of the church? That seems to be the desire of some in authority, but it blocks us from a more profound and holistic knowledge of our existence. One area that I would like to see examined is a discussion of the effect of science on religion. The early church adopted a literal interpretation of the Bible now rejected by science, the Catholic Church, and most mainline Christians. Thus, the human interpretations of Jesus’ message in the early church were in some respects biased by the incorrect science of the times. What would the early Fathers have concluded based on more accurate scientific knowledge? In many cases, the question is not relevant. But in a few, the impact could be significant. How would knowledge of the lack of a physical, as opposed to metaphorical, Adam and Eve have modified the thinking of St. Augustine on original sin? Could he have conceived of an all-determining original sin that cast humankind into the abyss without an original sinner?
Sticking with Genesis a bit further, the key message involves the role of free will and the ability to make choices in full knowledge of the consequences thereof, good and bad. The church has wisely said that an immortal soul, a gift of God, cannot arise from material evolution. Would our more accurate knowledge about the development of human consciousness modify how the church analyzed when that transcendental gift occurs? Could such a gift occur when a being has no ability rationally to choose good and evil with knowledge of the consequences thereof and an ability to modify behavior? How does that touch upon the role of infant baptism for a human being who has yet to be able to eat of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge?
The church has waltzed around these questions for centuries, trying to merge our knowledge of a just and loving God with a series of mostly philosophical constructs (limbo?) designed to paper over the fundamental problems. It would be far better to address these problems head on with a bit of Catholic little gray cell thinking so that we can present a unified truth that blends science and religion in a way to attract thinking people everywhere. On most days, that includes at least some of my students.
Thomas A. Cahill