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First Things
Books in Review
Contending with Modernity
Copyright (c) 1996 First Things 67 (November 1996): 58-63.
After Neoscholasticism
Contending with Modernity: Catholic Higher Education in the
Twentieth Century. By Philip Gleason. Oxford University
Press. 434 pp. $35.
Reviewed by John Peter Kenney.
"We Catholics are united in the faith, but infinitely disunited in
almost everything else," said John Lancaster Spalding, Bishop of Peoria,
around the turn of the century, as Catholicism's "cold war with
modernity" was just beginning. Philip Gleason-writing now amidst the
theological fragmentation left from that war-has undertaken a
comprehensive study of Catholic higher education in the United States,
seeking out the victors and the vanquished. When read in conjunction
with George Marsden's recent account of the progressive secularization
of Protestant universities in The Soul of the American University:
From Protestant Establishment to Established Nonbelief (1994),
Gleason's work suggests cautionary and even alarming conclusions for
American culture.
Gleason begins with the late 1800s and concludes with the 1960s, in the
confused aftermath of Vatican II. His narrative skillfully weaves both
institutional and intellectual history together, although many readers
are likely to find his account of early struggles over curricular
standardization or the separation of colleges from high schools to be
slow going. But even in the early chapters on organizational reforms
before World War I, Gleason articulates a primary theme critical to his
review of later developments. Above all, Catholic higher education
emerged from the nineteenth century in a highly decentralized condition,
and this institutional diversity was deep, systemic, and highly
resistant to efforts at centralization. While Catholics were divided by
ethnic origin and to a much lesser extent by ideological differences,
the real cleavages in their educational system had other origins.
Speaking of educational reformers early in the century, Gleason
notes:
Their basic problem was structural, and its key
element was the existence in Catholic education of two
overlapping, but largely autonomous, chains of command: the
episcopal, centered in the bishop of the diocese (known
technically as the "ordinary"); and that of the religious
community. Reinforcing the disjunctive tendency inherent in
this parallel authority structure was an ecclesiastical
localism that left each ordinary without effective
supervision from higher authority, and made each religious
community a kind of realm unto itself.
Two factors further compounded this complexity. Parochial grammar
schools were largely in the control of local dioceses and so of bishops,
while secondary and collegiate education was mainly under the control of
religious orders. Moreover, these orders-both male and female-were not
given to cooperation with one another on educational matters, opting to
seek their own preferment. The result was a lack of coordination in
academic standards among educational levels and an uncoordinated
proliferation of colleges intent on competing in the same marketplace.
Although occasionally obviated by efforts at centralization and reform,
all of these conditions would continue to obtain throughout the
century.
As Gleason moves into the post-World War I period, a central theme comes
into view: the gradual emergence of Neoscholasticism on the American
scene, its nesting in Catholic colleges during the difficult time when
many were making the transition to being full-fledged universities, the
tacit and often grudging respect accorded it in wider intellectual
circles, and its sudden, puzzling collapse in the fifties and early
sixties.
Above all, what Gleason shows is that Neoscholasticism-the revival of
the Christian philosophy of St. Thomas Aquinas and other medieval
thinkers-was the fundamental intellectual force that helped generate the
rich Catholic intellectual and artistic renaissance that lasted for half
a century. That Catholic culture challenged modernity with vigor and
confidence while constructing its own distinctive intellectual life
around which wider social and cultural patterns formed. It also provided
Catholic colleges and universities with a reason for existence and a
clear curricular charter. The importance of this admission should not be
missed, for post-Vatican II revisionism has come to assume a stark
portrait of preconciliar intellectual sterility; indeed, the insurgent
generation that overthrew Neoscholasticism and constructed that
indictment is just now passing from the scene, often still anxious to
deny the cultural success of Neoscholasticism amidst its own
failures.
The accession of Neoscholasticism was due to its adoption in the late
nineteenth century as the official philosophy of the Catholic Church; it
was seen as an intellectual inoculation against secularism and
liberalism by the conservative popes of the time who seemed set on
anathematizing the modern world. But in America it was able to appeal as
a progressive conservatism, rather than a reactionary one. On Gleason's
account, it seems to have won the field as much by persuasion as by
ecclesiastical imposition. It promised conceptual order and meaning,
and, in its synthesis of revelation with reason, it made Catholicism
into a religion with an intellect: "Its message-that the disorder,
incoherence, and fragmentation of the modern world could be healed only
by a return to Christian truth as taught by the Catholic Church-recurred
again and again in the writings of American Catholics."
Thoroughly foundationalist, it maintained confidence in the human
ability to achieve truth through the direct grasp of the intellect and
the practice of discursive reason. Neoscholasticism was thus able to
present itself in sharp contrast to the subjectivism, relativism, and
pragmatism of modernism. Catholic institutions were offered a clear
educational mission; they were the special purveyors of true wisdom, of
a "philosophy of life" to the young. As a Jesuit document of the period
put it: "Scholastic philosophy is a stable, universal, and certain
system of thought, a real philosophy of life, something to which
[students] can anchor all their views and thoughts and knowledge."
Gleason is especially good at clarifying Neoscholasticism's enormous
cultural influence on both Catholics and non-Catholics; figures such as
Dorothy Day and the Catholic Worker Movement were grounded in it, while
non-Catholics such as Robert M. Hutchins and Mortimer Adler of the
University of Chicago were tacit allies. There was even a Catholic "arts
and crafts" movement. Some readers will be surprised, perhaps horrified,
to read that Commonweal, which has taught recent generations how to
practice safe Catholicism, had its origins amidst the Catholic
antimodernism of the twenties.
But even Neoscholasticism was not eternal. It collapsed for reasons
that Gleason reviews but never quite explains. After reaching its zenith
in the fifties, it disintegrated suddenly in what he terms a "puzzling
reversal." Several theories are advanced. The formulaic rigidity of its
presentation suggested less a philosophy open to the critical intellect
than an ideology demanding acceptance on its own terms. And then there
were the internal divisions that afflict any ideology, schools whose
differences intimated a less than certain access to the apo-dictic and
the veridical. And at base there was also the underlying sense that the
antimodernist program that had motivated the earlier Catholic
renaissance was no longer attractive to Catholics after World War II.
They sought greater assimilation into American life, not a separate but
equal cultural tradition. None of these theories is conclusive; all bear
further examination.
As Gleason points out quite clearly, the collapse of Neoscholasticism
left Catholic higher education without a clear identity or a settled
curricular foundation. While this situation first became obvious in the
sixties, it prevails to this day, becoming more acute as the easy days
of the past give way to increased competition among colleges. Gleason's
book concludes with a discussion of the acceptance by Catholic
intellectuals of secular modernity after Vatican II. After a century of
determined opposition to modernity, the Church in America seemed to
recognize its inherent worth and put an abrupt end to the "cold war with
modernity." Gleason summarizes his case quite succinctly:
Translating the cold war metaphor into the terms
used in this book, we can say that what happened in the
1960s climaxed the transition from an era in which Catholic
educators challenged modernity to one in which they accepted
modernity. This too oversimplifies because modernity means
many different things, and Catholics' new readiness to
accept it was not altogether uncritical. But this
formulation comes closer to capturing the fundamental shift
that took place in Catholic higher education when the
assimilative tendencies that had been gathering strength
since World War II met and intermingled with the seismic
forces unleashed by Vatican II and the social, political,
and cultural crisis of the 1960s.
This situation requires another book, as Gleason himself recognizes. But
there is no question that this embrace of modernity-while never
complete-has been a regnant feature of Catholic intellectual life in the
last three decades. Remaining in communion with the New York Times has
been a special obligation and an ineffable grace for a whole generation
of liberal Catholics. Yet the "signs of the times" are no longer what
they were. As modernity has come under increasing attack from its
postmodern detractors, perhaps Catholic intellectuals will restore their
former critical role and reassert the independence of their tradition.
There are indications that the adjectival age of American Catholic
liberalism, the age of assimilation to modernity, is coming to a close.
Yet, as Gleason's analysis suggests, a whole cluster of social and
cultural attitudes lurks beneath the discursive surface-views about
social status, about political affiliation, about gender and the
stained-glass ceiling of the Church. These will require years to
resolve. American Catholicism's approach to contemporary culture remains
as yet undefined.
We should not, in any case, expect univocal answers to such immense
questions within the diffuse American Catholic Church. Yet the distance
of contemporary American culture from the values of classical
Christianity has become increasingly apparent, as has the inability of
the Protestant intellectual tradition to respond with pursuasive rigor,
stripped as it is of most of its great universities and colleges by the
lengthy process of secularization that Marsden has so thoroughly
chronicled. These factors define the momentous challenge of contemporary
Catholic higher education: to reassert an autonomous Christian
intellectual culture on the American scene, as Neoscholasticism once
did, and, in doing so, to restore a clear reason for continued
institutional existence. Gleason makes the point well in his final
paragraph: "The task facing Catholic academics today is to forge from
the philosophical and theological resources uncovered in the past half
century a vision that will provide what Neoscholasticism did for so many
years-a theoretical rationale for the existence of Catholic colleges and
universities as a distinctive element in American higher education."
A new intellectual and curricular identity must be discovered to meet
this exigency. In practice that means coming to terms with the rich but
tainted history of Catholicism within Western culture, with its diverse
philosophical schools, with its vast contemporary global presence, and,
not least, with the actual teachings of the Church. But the
institutional diversity of Catholic higher education, compounded by the
theological fragmentation of recent years, militates against any
centralized solution to this ideological crisis. The task may thus be
best addressed only within smaller units.
Here the Catholic liberal arts colleges might have a special role,
unencumbered as they are by professional and graduate schools. They are
potential sources of curricular innovation, confronted with the daily
task of providing undergraduates with some moral meaning and spiritual
direction for their lives. Since this is central to their fundamental
purpose, Catholic colleges bear a special burden to resolve the
intellectual crisis caused by the implosion of Neoscholasticism. If they
are to avoid the secularized fate of mainline Protestant institutions,
Catholic colleges must face this challenge. Otherwise they will cease
being academic centers of reflective Christianity and become at best
"safe spaces" for Catholics. Even that status is not assured.
Gleason's history presents forcefully this academic and intellectual
challenge, one that will have substantial significance both to Catholics
and to American society as a whole. For the clarity of that judgment as
well as the quality of his scholarship, we should be grateful to
Professor Gleason.
John Peter Kenney is Dean of the College and Professor of Religious
Studies at St. Michael's College, Col-chester, Vermont.
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