Continuing The Conversation

Commonweal, June 2, 2000

A response to Christopher Ruddy Christopher Ruddy ["Young Theologians," April 21] has written an intriguing and challenging essay on the state of academic theology and its relation to the church [see also, Correspondence, this issue, page 4]. He thinks the mandatum--formal episcopal approval to teach theology--will not "scare away" potential students of theology, even though it appears to be more an "instrument of control" than a means of cultivating a genuine ecclesial theology. Despite that, Ruddy seems to have doubts about the value of academic freedom and the "shrillness" of its defenders on Catholic college and university campuses.

Ruddy writes that theology should be more "effectual," that is, "make a difference in the life of the church." It's hard to disagree with this goal. And Ruddy thinks that academic theology can do so only if young theologians are given spiritual formation and encouraged to focus their efforts more on writing for popular journals than for "myopic and arcane publications" that are produced "for the sake of gaining tenure and promotion." He proposes that theologians write and speak in a more popular vein, and that tenure committees give these activities more weight in their deliberations.

Ruddy overlooks the fact that theologians spend a great deal of time teaching college students, and that this is where their impact is felt most broadly. The classroom is the context in which students are most likely to ask, or be asked, critical questions about social justice, moral integrity, political responsibility, sexual morality, and ecological concerns. This is where theology is "most relevant" to the church, for the classroom provides a sustained, disciplined opportunity for students to deepen their understanding of the faith, and it offers them an unparalleled chance to ask questions, air grievances, and debate matters of theological import within a constructive context. The vast majority of American Catholics never read America or Commonweal, but many are brought into the world of theological inquiry through Catholic higher education. This is where the theologian who publishes in even the most "arcane" and "myopic" journals makes an important difference in the lives of ordinary Catholics; it would be unjust, and inaccurate, to ignore this.

Ruddy makes valuable points, but his essay suffers from a lack of clarity and balance. He complains that too few theologians write about issues of concern for the contemporary church, but this is clearly not the case. I know many theologians who engage in public theological discussions, both in print and at conferences, that appeal to a broad audience. Theologians are not professional journalists, but most are willing to contribute to popular journals when they think they have something to say that will shed light on an important issue. And no wonder some theologians have reservations about taking a public stance on a contentious issue. Had Charles Curran stayed in a scholarly "cocoon," he would not have been dismissed from The Catholic University of America. But more to Ruddy's point, contributing to popular journals is neither more nor less "ecclesial" than publishing in scholarly journals. Writing an essay for Theological Studies or the Heythrop Journal contributes to the life of the church, even if it is not something folks will mention over the dinner table or at the neighborhood block party. John Courtney Murray's famous Theological Studies articles on religious liberty may not have been immediately discussed in rectories or from pulpits, but they had a major, long-term impact on the life of the church. Theologians, after all, are called to contribute to theological knowledge for its own sake. As in the other liberal arts, theology is not merely a means, as Cardinal Newman observed in the The Idea of a University, but "an end sufficient to rest in and to pursue for its own sake." Newman's view seems to contrast sharply with Ruddy's, who, in demanding that theology be "relevant," adopts an American pragmatic approach to the value of the discipline. True, we value theology for its positive effects on the life of the church, but we also recognize, with Newman, that it ought to be valued for its own sake.

An additional consideration: The serious study of theology takes a great deal of time, training, and focused energy. To produce a sound, informed, and scholarly article, say, on Saint Thomas Aquinas's theory of the soul, is not the same exercise as cranking out an op-ed piece on the rescue of Elian Gonzalez. The scholarly training that is essential to theological studies--in languages, history, doctrine, philosophy, etc.--takes many years to master. In fact, it continues throughout a theologian's career. Graduate students and junior professors are wisely advised to devote their time and energy to developing scholarly skills so that some day they will become competent, productive theologians. How else, given theology's richness and complexity, will young theologians be able, as Ruddy desires, "to pass on the church's liturgical and social riches to our own and future generations"? Perhaps Ruddy is correct in saying that the mandatum will not drive away young theologians from Catholic settings (though I have my doubts, and even some anecdotal evidence, to the contrary). But changing the criteria for tenure and promotion to give priority to popular writing and speaking would, over the long haul, have the effect of "dumbing down" faculties of theology, and it would seriously compromise the academic credibility of theology as a discipline that belongs on university campuses.