A response to Kenneth Garcia: "where they are, just as they are".

Uelmen, Amelia J.

IN A THOUGHT-PROVOKING ANALYSIS of John Courtney Murray's contributions to the theology of Catholic higher education, Kenneth Garcia highlights aspects of Murray's work that might have otherwise gone unnoticed. Counting myself among those who had focused only on Murray's theological contributions to the analysis of church-state relationships, I am grateful for Garcia's invitation to explore the breadth and depth of Murray's theological work in this area as well. My response takes as its springboard Garcia's efforts to bring Murray into conversation with contemporary Catholic educational institutions. My first part considers Murray's writings in the context of Catholic intellectual history and his own intellectual journey. My second part explores how Murray's 1944 proposals for "lay theology" might be applied to the context of Catholic graduate professional education today.

PLACING MURRAY'S CATHOLIC EDUCATION TEXTS INTO HISTORICAL CONTEXT

As Garcia points out, Murray wrote "in a time when a more robust (if more stringent and narrow) Catholic culture held sway in Catholic universities": faculty and students held "shared beliefs about the truth of Christianity," and "all knowledge would have been assumed to fit within a broader Christian worldview." (1) Citing a Murray text from 1941, Garcia describes how Murray's perspectives on Catholic education were grounded in "traditional principles of Catholic thought and life." At the time, few would have debated that theology was "the architectonic science that gives the various subject matters their direction and goals," or that the telos of Catholic education was to form "the whole man"--synonymous with a Christian and Catholic who is able to integrate the social, intellectual, moral, and spiritual life. In this framework, the Logos, the Word of God, is the light that illuminates intelligence, and is the "one truth in which all truths are ultimately one." Thus a Catholic university "must encompass universal knowledge founded on a broad range of sciences and learning and integrated into a philosophic view that, in turn, is then related to a coherent body of Christian truth." (2)

Garcia admits that this worldview is no longer at the heart of most Western Catholic educational institutions. Thus, he argues, the process of "translation" hinges on making explicit for faculty and students the connections between "knowledge in the various academic fields" and a "broader Christian framework." (3) "Knowledge of the finite world should be viewed in relation to knowledge of the Infinite, and there should be as clear an articulation between them as possible--moving from conceptually separate domains within the continuum of reality to the divine ground of the entire continuum." (4)

I agree that the project of "translating" Murray's ideas for today is a complex and delicate task. In the subsections below, I first explore the difficulties of translation when participants in the conversation can no longer depend on shared cultural assumptions. I then consider the challenges of pinning down the thought of a theologian who himself was responsive to historical and cultural change over the course of almost three decades of scholarly engagement.

Translating the "Catholic Mind"

According to Garcia, knowledge in the various fields should be explicitly connected to a broader Christian framework by inculturating Christian theological insight across the disciplines. (5) Framing the task as one of providing a clearer and more explicit articulation seems to assume a set of shared categories. But in many institutional contexts, as Garcia himself observes, these shared categories no longer exist. Thus the process of translation will be more complex.

Consider, for example, the goal of cultivating faculty who can help students develop the "Catholic mind." In an essay cited by Garcia, Gerald McCool describes the ideal of the Catholic mind as "the conviction, based on both faith and reason, that the world makes sense and that the human mind has the power to understand it. That understanding can be brought about if the liberal arts, science, and philosophy are unified by a sound and believing mind under the light of faith." (6) Notwithstanding his great "affection" for this approach to Catholic education, McCool admits "the serious intellectual difficulties brought against the viability of this ideal today." He then expresses only "tentatively and with great caution" an assessment of whether the ideal can survive the current transition. (7) McCool notes some of the practical reasons for the disappearance of the ideal:

The expansion and diversification of Catholic education, the increased variety of the curriculum, the demands of university research, and the growing specialization of graduate education make practical application of the ideal across the board difficult and ambiguous. Catholic education has many more tasks today and serves a more varied clientele than it did at the turn of the century when it confined its efforts largely to academic high schools and liberal arts colleges. (8)

Further, Catholic communities themselves have called into question the intellectual validity of the ideal in light of a radically different approach to culture, theology, and philosophy in the decades after the Second Vatican Council. (9) At this point the ideal of the Catholic mind is in serious tension with many current approaches to epistemology and anthropology in which "each one of us must view the world from his or her own limited point of view." (10)

Philip Gleason, in his history of Catholic higher education in the 20th century, also traces the dissipation of shared categories and a shared worldview. He notes that a number of factors led to the "splintering of the Scholastic synthesis," including varying interpretations of Thomism, which unsettled the sense that it could be an integrating force. (11) Further, "The stronger subjective dimension in existentialism, phenomenology, and Transcendental Thomism no doubt added to the appeal of these approaches to a generation that found traditional Scholasticism desiccated and formalistic." (12) As one professor observed in 1960, even his best undergraduate philosophy students found that a "'moderately Thomistic' approach bypassed their most pressing need, which was to determine what aspects of their own personal experience demand reflective analysis." (13)

I realize that Garcia is not reproposing a neo-Scholastic synthesis as the solution to Catholic higher education's current challenges. His practical suggestions are sensitive to the need for conceptual translation across the cultural fissures of the 20th and 21st centuries. My more defined point is that to the extent that some of Murray's earlier texts on Catholic education were written prior to the splintering of the Scholastic synthesis, they are situated on the other side of a profound conceptual divide. At this point in time, our task may consist less in the effort to make clearer and more explicit connections between the synthesis of knowledge and Christian philosophy, and more in developing the kinds of categories that facilitate communication across different worldviews. In other words, it may not be as easy as simply finding the bridge and helping faculty and students walk across it. The current cultural topography of most Catholic universities today may require the construction of entirely new bridges.

Translating Murray as a Theologian in Time

As Garcia notes, Murray is best known for his theological work on religious freedom and the roles of church and state in a pluralistic democratic society. It certainly would be fruitful, as Garcia suggests, to gather into one volume Murray's work on Catholic education and to carefully parse those texts. (14) And it would be especially fruitful to consider how these texts relate to the rest of Murray's corpus, spanning three decades in which society, the church, and of course Murray himself, changed in ways that are especially relevant for reflections on the themes of Catholic higher education.

According to Leon Hopper, in the 1940s Murray framed his theology in terms of Scholastic epistemological theory, and he insisted "that only Roman Catholic doctrine could sufficiently defend the Western political experiment." (15) As Murray's work matured through the 1950s, Hooper argues, he was able to escape "much of the individualism, conceptualism, and ahistoricity (abstraction) of his earliest theological arguments." (16) By the early 1960s, with the help of Bernard Lonergan's cognitional theories, Murray "gradually reconceived the sources of God's dynamic presence in contemporary society, locating them within concrete human interaction." (17)

In light of Murray's journey through the dramatic shifts of postwar culture and intellectual life, an effort to locate his contributions to the theology of Catholic higher education leads to a further question: which Murray? Of course, throughout his corpus one will find, as Hooper puts it, "strong claims for the social importance of Roman Catholic theological and religious viewpoints, in terms both of their motivational effectiveness and, importantly, their content." (18) But those claims take different forms, depending on the point in time when Murray is writing.

According to Garcia, Charles Curran and David Schindler both miss the mark in their reflections on Catholic academic life when they apply to the sphere of Catholic higher education Murray's "articles of peace" model for the interaction between church and state in a secular society, because they neglect Murray's more specific reflections on the topic of Catholic higher education. (19) But when one places Murray's writings on education in the context of his entire corpus, it becomes evident that his later work on church-state dynamics is also of immediate interest and concern in current discussions about Catholic higher education, and are perhaps even more relevant than some of his more Scholastic reflections from the 1940s.

Another reason to consider Murray's texts in the context of time is that historical consciousness was an important dimension of his reflections. For example, in a 1944 article that I will discuss below, Murray candidly acknowledged that in response to contemporary changes, theologians did not yet possess the intellectual categories needed to articulate "what theology itself is."

The fact is that an immense development has taken place in the faith of the Church and in the theology of the schools since the thirteenth century. Moreover, it has not taken place independently of many revolutionary changes in human life, and in the scientific mode of thought. It is also a fact that we do not yet quite understand this development, nor the immensely complicated product with which it has left us; the reason very largely is that we have not yet got an adequate theory of theological development. (20)

Murray's humility before history includes both the courage to acknowledge that "we do not yet quite understand," and the confidence that the next generation of theologians might be able to express the needed categories in a more organic way. This spirit is evident in his 1967 reflections on the emerging role of ecumenism in theological frameworks:

The men of my generation have been converts to ecumenism; we were not brought up as ecumenists. Now we have to see to it that theological students are, as it were, born ecumenists. Moreover, even at the moment, not to speak of the past, ecumenism appears as a dimension added to theology from without. We have to see to it that ecumenism becomes a quality inherent in theology, as it is an impulse intrinsic to Christian faith itself. (21)

TRANSLATING MURRAY'S INSIGHTS FOR CONTEMPORARY CATHOLIC GRADUATE PROFESSIONAL EDUCATION

If I could propose one early text by Murray on Catholic higher education to serve as a literary key for the process of translating his ideas for current Catholic higher educational contexts, it would his 1944 two-part analysis "Towards a Theology for the Layman." (22) Some aspects, such as his description of recommended approaches to seminary education, and even the sharp binary between seminary and lay theological formation, are obviously dated. But his attention to the ways the theological education of lay people should be shaped by their distinct roles and tasks strike me as prophetic for his time and especially relevant for current institutional settings.

It is interesting to note that in his 1949 essay, "Reversing the Secularist Drift," Murray locates the "fulcrum" of a positive effort to reverse the intellectual tide not in undergraduate sections of the university, but among the potentially more influential research scholars in the graduate and professional schools. (23) In light of that suggestion, this section concludes with some practical suggestions for applying the insights of Murray's "lay theology" to the current contexts of Catholic professional schools.

As Gleason pointed out already in a 1939 symposium on "Man and Modern Secularism--The Conflict of the Two Cultures Considered Especially in Relation to Education," the young Murray had offered his reflections on the content of college-level theology. (24) In contrast to seminary theology, which "had for its formal object 'the demonstrability of truth from the revealed Word of God,'" what lay students needed was "a theology geared toward 'the livability of the Word of God.'" Thus, Murray argued, theology taught in a college context should be "re-thought in terms of the particular purpose it was to serve, namely, relating the truths of faith to the problems lay persons encountered in the secular world." (25)

Murray's 1944 article opens with the common characteristics of a Catholic approach to education at the time: theology was "the architectonic science that should govern and guide and give unity to the whole pattern." (26) But what this might mean outside a seminary context is not evident. (27) Murray recognized that in contrast to the synthesis of the Middle Ages, the laity no longer lived in a context where the life of the church was all embracing: "To the modern Christian the world is not his Father's house." (28)

Murray also insisted that to shape a lay approach to theology was a new task for the church, because the role of the laity "has been defined with new clarity and completely in our present age." (29) In contrast to those who suggested that lay theology should be "only quantitatively or rhetorically different from that taught in seminaries--a sort of Summa Theologica with the hard parts left out" (30)--Murray explained that the lay person needed "a theology that, remaining theology, keeps to an order of its own, and has all the perfection proper to that order." (31)

The article then proceeds to outline the sensitivities, methods, content, and tone of an approach to lay theology. In what follows, I highlight aspects of Murray's approach that strike me as especially constructive for building bridges between the Catholic intellectual tradition and graduate professional education.

First, Murray suggests that the ground for lay theology is the perspective and experience of lay people themselves. Given the difficulty and delicacy of their specific task of mediating the temporal and the spiritual, he noted that when it comes to the problem of devising the formula for penetrating the social order, "only the laity, by reason of their peculiar situation, are in a position to solve it." (32) Clerical theology was aimed at meeting the teaching needs of the church, and so was "not primarily designed to meet the particular and personal needs that might arise from some particular exigencies of the student's own religious or mental life or from the provision of some concrete work that he may expect to do." (33) Lay theology, by contrast, "must reach their subject as grace reaches him, where he is, just as he is. They must insert themselves into the psychological context which is given, in order effectively to do their work of illumination and inspiration." (34) Thus the starting point for lay theology should be in the visible and the historical. (35)

Murray suggests that lay theology should also give prominence to an "affective and dynamic concept of faith, not only as knowledge of God but as a 'movement' towards a heavenly Father." (36) Its perspectives and movements should be "manward," focused on an understanding of God's action in the world. Regarding the intratrinitarian life of the three divine Persons, "only from what they are to us do we catch a glimpse of what they are to each other eternally." (37) In sum, the attention of lay theology should be directed to what the life of God is for us (quoad nos), not the life of God in God's self (quoad se), "to psychological effectiveness of presentation rather than to abstract logic, ... to the whole truth in its relation to personal and social life rather than to single truths in their relation to rational philosophy." (38)

This focus also called for a shift in tone away from polemical apologetics. As Murray describes it, the seminary course "practically moves from adversary to adversary, and at every turn comes to grips with error." (39) The downside of this approach is that

it tends to create a defensive mentality; one is always answering, and one frequently has the defeated feeling that one is not reaching the source of the difficulty, which is often not in reason and cannot be reached by reason. There is always a gap between apologetic argument and faith; it leads up to faith, not into it, and still less does it engender an experience of faith as the power of God unto salvation. (40)

In a lay course, Murray recommended that apologetics be given "a very subordinate place." (41) Because the laity need to be prepared to face secularism and religious indifferentism, which are "not just religious errors, but religious diseases, which have to be healed at a level in the soul deeper than that of reason," (42) "the careful application of little apologetic 'band-aids' here and there will not suffice." (43) Thus, Murray suggests, the tone and "mood of teaching" should be "pacific and positive." (44)

All these factors come together in an overarching vision not so much of the abstract unity of knowledge, but of the unity of the human family. Murray quotes extensively from the conclusion of Pins XI's encyclical Quadragesimo anno (1931), which identifies "the mutual bond" of unity in the human family as the basis of peace and the common good. (45) He concludes: "A lay course in theology will have been essentially a failure if it does not succeed in communicating to the student this 'vue obsddante de l'unite humaine' which, as Lubac has well said, is at the basis of the Gospel." (46) Because this vision is the "indispensable foundation of the Christian social mentality, the ultimate motivation of the whole Christian social program," it is the primary expression of the experience of God, quoad nos, which can assure both academic unity and religious power. (47)

Many of the qualities that Murray outlines as part of his suggested approach to theological formation for laypeople are implicit in Garcia's insightful practical suggestions for fostering faculty development. Garcia leaves plenty of room to meet faculty "where they are," to draw out connections with the Catholic intellectual tradition by building on the faculty members' own interests and to foster the kind of positive spiritual growth that can sustain and nourish individuals and communities. (48) For a further step, it might be interesting to consider how Murray's 1944 analysis might help provide a theory for the approach. It would be interesting also to explore how Murray's analysis could inform conversations with those who resist incorporating into the curriculum insights from the Catholic intellectual tradition because they are boxing or shadowboxing perceived analogues to preconciliar Scholastic theological categories, methods, and tone.

Like Garcia, I am hopeful that we can garner the resources to "inculturate" Catholic theological insight across the disciplines, including in the graduate professional schools. Like Murray, I believe that faculty and students in these environments can be reached "where they are, just as they are." (49) In the following sections I reflect on my own experience in Catholic graduate professional education, drawing on Murray's suggestions for lay theology to further support and, in some aspects, refine Garcia's efforts to translate Murray's vision for current contexts. (50)

Faculty Development: Reframing the Goals and Recasting the Protagonists

Considering the role of faculty, Garcia acknowledges that not all faculty members must pursue the connections between their disciplines and Christian philosophy and theology, but he submits that Catholic universities should ensure that there are some who do so:

Scholars who share the faith will be best suited to present the riches of the Tradition, its complex and difficult history, and apply its teachings for today. They will also be the ones most willing to undergo the kind of continuous intellectual and spiritual renewal required to be Christian mentors to students, to help them cultivate--in a term common during the early twentieth century--a "Catholic mind." (51)

Thus, in a world of limited resources, Garcia argues, "those inclining to full participation in the life of the Word should be afforded highest priority for faculty development resources." (52)

I agree whole-heartedly that Catholics who are interested in this kind of integrative scholarship and teaching should be encouraged in every possible way to pursue these paths. But we need to face the fact that for a variety of reasons, in many parts of many Catholic universities today, scholars who both "share the faith" and are interested in this project are few and far between. My fear is that if the protagonists of the project are defined in such restrictive terms, entire areas of the university--including many law schools, for example--will simply be written off as hopelessly disengaged.

What approach might work in environments where many faculty and administrators seem indifferent toward cultivating "Christian mentors" or integrating into curricula the resources of the Catholic intellectual tradition? Much depends on a given school's location and history, but for many contexts, the work of "translation" may call for an emphasis on how the Catholic intellectual tradition itself values personal intellectual integration, including within the context of one's own religious tradition.

What happens when I give personal attention to the reality of who are my colleagues, what are their questions, and what are they concerned about? Who in my school is actually responsive to the religious or spiritual quest? And in turn, how can I learn from their commitments and their own sense of connection to the mission of the school? Asking these kinds of questions over the course of my work at Fordham Law School, I found that several non-Christians were among those most receptive to the kind of "intellectual and spiritual renewal" that could actually inform our approach to teaching, scholarship, and various administrative projects. In that context, the "we" in action was made up of a small team of faculty, administrators, and students who participated in what we termed the "love of neighbor" project--because that was the value that spoke most deeply to participants across faith traditions. We aimed to explicitly encourage one another to reflect on how love might transform our approach to our work, teaching, and study. I recall more than one occasion when a Jewish colleague drew my attention to a situation at the school in which "we can love more," or even to ways in which I personally could love more. (53)

As a Roman Catholic, I want and need to carry within me the vision of how everything hangs together as a result of, in Garcia's phrase, "full participation in the life of the Word." This is the ground of my being that nourishes my intellectual life and research, my teaching, and all my relationships. At the same time, the "we" of Catholic scholars engaged with the Catholic intellectual tradition also needs the larger interreligious and intercultural "we" not only because this is our community and the practical ground of our experience, but also because it is within the dynamic of dialogue that we gain the insight to articulate how the Catholic intellectual tradition can inform our work within pluralistic Catholic institutions.

Further, faculty and students in graduate schools are inevitably in conversation with the culture and values of the profession that students are preparing to enter. Within these frameworks, moral and religious perspectives may be excluded as inappropriate and divisive in a pluralistic profession. For example, the harder edges of legal professionalism tend to idealize a neutral and value-free stance so that lawyers may serve as conduits for client values and goals. Against this backdrop, the capacity to engage in respectful and productive dialogue across religious differences becomes an essential aspect of any effort to develop the nexus between religious resources, professional decision making, and pursuing the ideals of justice and the common good in society. (54)

Garcia's practical suggestions do not in any way exclude these kinds of collaboration. But for many educational contexts, it would be important to frame these efforts not as a sorry detour through our institutional history that we sadly endure, nor even as a gracious extension of hospitality to guests. Drawing on an analogy to Murray's task to develop "born ecumenists," and on an approach to theology in which ecumenism becomes a quality inherent in and intrinsic to Christian faith, (55) I would argue that Catholic higher education today stands before a similar challenge. Yes, Catholic institutions need to hire, develop, and invest in Catholic scholars who are deeply rooted in the Catholic intellectual tradition, and Garcia's suggested "best practices" are very helpful for these tasks. But for many schools, including professional schools, it is just as crucial to develop faculty from a variety of traditions who are "born to dialogue," and so contribute to an approach to Catholic education in which dialogue across religious and cultural differences becomes a quality inherent in and intrinsic to Christian faith.

Tapping the Resources of Cross-Institutional Cooperation

As Garcia recognizes, in certain environments, "if scholars with a spiritual eros roam into the realm of the theological, they may encounter stiff opposition from disciplinary colleagues." (56) Even if they are tenured, they may find themselves ostracized or isolated. Fully aware of the power dynamics through which disciplinary communities capture the loyalty of faculty members, and the rigor with which academic "gatekeepers" apply their own standards, methods, and expectations so as to exclude nonconformists, (57) Garcia outlines a number of thoughtful strategies for developing "intellectual-spiritual communities of scholars across disciplines." (58)

For the most part, Garcia's suggestions for faculty development focus on how individual colleges or universities can foster conversation across disciplinary boundaries. For smaller institutions lacking a critical mass of faculty to support a given project, Garcia suggests reaching out to scholars from nearby institutions. (59)

It might be helpful also to note the extent to which new models are systematically and intentionally reaching across institutional boundaries. For example, since 2006, the Conference on Catholic Legal Thought has gathered law professors who are interested in integrating the resources of the Catholic intellectual tradition into their teaching and scholarship. Operating as a loose affiliation of law professors at different institutions, mostly Catholic but some secular, the group meets each summer to discuss pedagogy, critique works-in-progress, and delve into some aspect of the tradition of common interest to legal scholars. The program also incorporates time to focus on prayer and spirituality, and simply to build a spirit of community.

The group is also enriched by the participation of professors who had already completed graduate work in theology or philosophy prior to joining their law faculties, or who did so as an aspect of their interdisciplinary legal scholarship; they share their expertise in an open and collaborative spirit. At this point, many in the group are close friends who help one another throughout the year and in this way also draw on the creative ideas and best practices emerging from certain schools that are particularly focused on mission work.

This is just one example among many of the benefits of thinking across institutional lines and boundaries in order to deepen the resources for formation not only within a given discipline but also across disciplines. (60) In these contexts, cross-institutional collaboration is not a concession to lack of resources but an instrument for building a deeper sense of solidarity, a broader community, and cross-fertilization of cutting-edge ideas for teaching and scholarship.

"Midwifing" the Full Humanity of Graduate Students

In drawing out the telos of Catholic higher education, Garcia notes Murray's rich image: "The purpose of higher education, then, is to form the fully developed Christian. The Christian educator is the 'midwife' who helps bring to birth the full humanity of the students." (61) Because we can no longer assume that students have absorbed the categories of a Christian worldview, Garcia proposes that connections between the various academic fields and a broader Christian framework "must be made explicit for them." (62)

But, as McCool explained, in many contexts of Catholic education, it is now more "difficult and ambiguous" to understand what exactly it might mean to pursue this telos, especially in light of "a more varied clientele" than in previous eras. (63) I know that in the specific case of graduate legal education, students who arrive at most Catholic law schools looking for "Christian mentors" or hoping to cultivate a "Catholic mind" are few. I would guess that the same is true of many other graduate programs. In environments where the "varied clientele" includes a large percentage of students who are not Christian, the telos may require religious translation and cultural reframing.

It is also important to acknowledge that in contrast to the undergraduate liberal arts context, historically the primary driver for many Catholic graduate professional schools has not been the quest for a curriculum that fully integrates the social, intellectual, moral, and spiritual life of students, but the more mundane goal of access to professions from which Catholics as an ethnic minority had previously been excluded. (64) And while it is true that "any purely temporal end of education is a profanation of the spiritual dignity of each student," (65) "temporal ends" serve different roles in undergraduate liberal arts education as opposed to graduate professional education.

Given this history and context, what might it mean to "midwife" the birth of the full humanity of students in Catholic graduate professional school environments? In the two elective law school seminars that I currently teach at Georgetown Law, "Religion and the Work of a Lawyer" and "Catholic Social Thought and Economic Justice," I have found that the process of drawing out the agenda for class discussion based on the topics that the students themselves surface in their short reaction and reflection papers, generates a kind of kenotic space in which students are reached "where they are, just as they are." (66) This approach fosters the kind of trust that not infrequently opens the door to personal integration and permission to access their own religious or spiritual resources for rethinking their definition of professional roles or legal categories. (67)

There may be some educational stages and contexts where more didactic approaches can be appropriate, and connections between a given material and a larger overarching philosophy can be made explicit for students. In the context of graduate professional education, however, generally it might be more effective to let students draw their own connections.

CONCLUSION

In contrast to long-standing and in-depth reflection on the nexus between the Catholic intellectual tradition and liberal arts education, I have long thought that theories about how the Catholic intellectual tradition might inform graduate professional education could benefit from more extensive and systematic theological work. Prior to reading Garcia's analysis, John Courtney Murray would not have been the first resource to come to mind. Thanks to his initial work, I now see how Murray's work in this area can be an important conversation partner in ongoing efforts to theorize on the connections we are drawing in a variety of academic settings. With Garcia, I hope that a host of scholars takes up his invitation to probe more deeply how Murray's reflections on Catholic higher education are a treasure that should be brought more into the light.

(1) Garcia 900.

(2) Ibid. 893, referring to John Courtney Murray, "Toward a Christian Humanism: Aspects of the Theology of Education" (1941).

(3) Ibid. 900.

(4) Ibid. 901, emphasis added.

(5) Ibid. 904.

(6) Gerald A. McCool, "Spirituality and Philosophy: The Ideal of the Catholic Mind," in Examining the Catholic Intellectual Tradition, ed. Anthony J. Cernera and Oliver Morgan (Fairfield, CT: Sacred Heart University, 2000) 37.

(7) Ibid. 38.

(8) Ibid. 45.

(9) Ibid. 46.

(10) Ibid. 48.

(11) Philip Gleason, Contending with Modernity: Catholic Higher Education in the Twentieth Century (New York: Oxford University, 1995) 299-300.

(12) Ibid. 302.

(13) Ibid.

(14) Garcia 891.

(15) J. Leon Hooper, S.J., "Theological Sources of John Courtney Murray's Ethics," Theological Studies 57 (1996) 19-45, at 21-22.

(16) Ibid. 22.

(17) Ibid. 23. Also to this point Hooper observes: "By 1964 Murray allowed that the broader social world could be a source of legitimate moral insight and will" (33).

(18) Ibid. 21.

(19) Garcia 891.

(20) John Courtney Murray, S.J., "Towards a Theology for the Layman: The Pedagogical Problem," Theological Studies 5 (1944) 340-76, at 375.

(21) John Courtney Murray, "Our Response to the Ecumenical Revolution," in Bridging the Sacred and the Secular: Selected Writings of John Courtney Murray, S.J., ed. J. Leon Hooper, S.J. (Washington: Georgetown University, 1994) 330-33, at 331.

(22) John Courtney Murray, S.J., "Towards a Theology for the Layman: The Problem of Finality" and "Towards a Theology for the Layman: The Pedagogical Problem," Theological Studies 5 (1944) 43-75; 340-76. See also David L. Schindler, Heart of the World, Center of the Church: Communio Ecclesiology, Liberalism, and Liberation (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1996) 80 n. 35, remarking that these "often overlooked articles" are important for understanding Murray's idea of the Christian's vocation in the world.

(23) John Courtney Murray, "Reversing the Secularist Drift," Thought 24 (1949) 36-46, at 42, quoting Bernard Iddings Bell.

(24) Gleason, Contending with Modernity 164-65.

(25) Ibid. 165.

(26) Murray, "Problem of Finality" 43; Garcia 892.

(27) Murray, "Problem of Finality" 44.

(28) Ibid. 47.

(29) Ibid.

(30) Ibid. 74.

(31) Ibid.

(32) Ibid. 70.

(33) Ibid. 54.

(34) Murray, "Pedagogical Problem" 348.

(35) Ibid. 368.

(36) Ibid. 356, quoting Thomas Aquinas.

(37) Ibid. 357.

(38) Ibid. 363.

(39) Murray, "Problem of Finality" 61.

(40) Murray, "Pedagogical Problem" 351.

(41) Ibid.

(42) Murray, "Problem of Finality" 65.

(43) Ibid.

(44) Ibid.

(45) Murray, "Pedagogical Problem" 365-66, quoting Plus XI, Quadragesimo anno no. 137.

(46) Murray, "Pedagogical Problem" 366, quoting Henri de Lubac, Cathoicisme: Les aspects sociaux du dogme catholique (Paris: Cerf, 1938) iv.

(47) Murray, "Pedagogical Problem" 366.

(48) Garcia 900-908.

(49) See Murray, "Pedagogical Problem" 348.

(50) I realize that many of Garcia's suggestions are aimed at top institutional policy makers. The ideas discussed in this section are more along the lines of what John C. Haughey, S.J., describes as "What the Mission Looks Like from Below," in his Where Is Knowing Going." The Horizons of the Knowing Subject (Washington: Georgetown 2009) 1-12. My experience is as a colleague and a teacher: as the director of an institute engaged with faculty and staff, with faculty at other schools who share an interest in fostering the Catholic identity of their own institutions, and with students taking the elective law and religion seminars that I teach.

(51) Garcia 904.

(52) Ibid.

(53) See Michael James, Thomas Masters, and Amy Uelmen, Education's Highest Aim: Teaching and Learning through a Spirituality of Communion (Hyde Park, NY: New City, 2010) 97-101.

(54) See Russell G. Pearce and Amelia J. Uelmen, "Religious Lawyering in a Religious Democracy: A Challenge and an Invitation," Case Western Reserve Law Review 55 (2004) 127-60, esp. 142-45, 156-59.

(55) See Hooper, "Sources" 40.

(56) Garcia 905.

(57) Ibid.

(58) Ibid.

(59) Ibid. 902.

(60) For example, the John A. Ryan Institute for Catholic Social Thought at the University of St. Thomas (Minnesota) has sponsored integrative conferences and programs that bring together innovators in graduate business education.

(61) Garcia 892.

(62) Ibid. 900.

(63) McCool, "Spirituality and Philosophy" 45.

(64) See Gleason, Contending with Modernity 95-96 (development of professional education was a response to "galloping professionalization" and "mobility aspirations"); and John M. Breen and Lee J. Strang, "The Golden Age That Never Was: Catholic Law Schools from 1930-1960 and the Question of Identity," Journal of Catholic Social Thought 7 (2010) 489-522, at 502-5.

(65) Garcia 892.

(66) See Murray, "Pedagogical Problem" 348.

(67) See Amelia J. Uelmen, "Sparks and Bridges: Catalysts of a Catholic Higher Education that Works," Current Issues in Catholic Higher Education 26 (2007) 59-64.

AMELIA J. UELMEN received her JD from Georgetown University and her MA in theology from Fordham University. Formerly the director of the Institute on Religion, Law, and Lawyer's Work at Fordham University School of Law, she is currently a lecturer at Georgetown Law School. Her recent publications include: Focolare: Living a Spirituality of Unity in the United States (2011); Education's Highest Aim: Teaching and Learning through a Spirituality of Communion (2010); "Bob Drinan in History," Georgetown Journal of Legal Ethics 25 (2012); and "Religious Legal Theory's 'Second Wave,'" Seton Hall Law Review 40 (2010). In progress is a book on the common law "no-duty to rescue" seen through the lens of relational ethics and trinitarian theology.