Jesuits in the City

On Friday, I went to the panel discussion of literature in the city. The panel consisted of four local author: John Cane from The Baltimore Sun newspaper; Elizabeth Evitts from the Urbanite; Jane Conly, author of Rasco and the Rats of Nimh and While No One Was Wathcing; and Chevia Thomson Cager, a local Baltimore poet. At the beginning of the discussion each panelist either gave a description of their job or read an excerpt from their catalogue of work. This was helpful in getting a feel for each author’s personality and area of expertise; however, the real jewel of the discussion was the question and answer portion. During this time, the panelists made comments about the city that directly correlate to the Ignatian spirituality of viewing the world as God’s classroom.

Gregory Kane exemplifies many Jesuits ideals with his persistence in seeking truth and justice. Kane explained that in his line of work, the hardest part is getting public officials to tell the truth. One of his greatest techniques for getting at the heart of the story is to meet people face to face. If someone doesn’t answer to Mr. Kane’s questions over the phone, he will find them and chat with them. Kane is currently using this technique to uncover the circumstances of a Baltimore City inmate’s mysterious death. For the last year, the spokesman for the corrections facility has given Kane the run around, saying he would let him know when new information became available. Recently, Kane has begun driving down to the facility to “rattle the cage”, so to speak. This reminds me of the persistence with which many Jesuits protest the violent crimes committed as a result of the School of the Americas. Every year, hundreds of Jesuits from around the country demand the school, which trains foreign countries in military tactics, to close. This commitment to justice and distaste for violence defines the Jesuit ideals.

Another Jesuit ideal was brought up by Elizabeth Evitts of the Urbanite. Evitts, a great fan of Jane Jacobs work, wonders how we can step back and listen rather than jumping to conclusions. In the city, we rush to come up with quick fixes to problems associated with an urban environment, wasting money along the way. For instance, we are building a highway into the city, which city planners now say will not be large enough to support the proper volume of traffic. Rather than stepping back and looking for a solutions that will be convenient for automobile owners and those who use the buses, our city counsel plays politic: just trying to win the argument rather than working together to come up with a real, lasting solution. It is the responsibility of the Jesuits and those enrolled at their universities to put their own ambitions, passions, and desires aside and to seek God desires and truths. Only by giving themselves fully to God, can the Jesuits make clear and meaningful decisions.

Chevia Thomson Cager brought up a very important Jesuit principle when she was asked about the stoop and its social significance. Cager exalts the stoop as a form of “communion” for the city: a place where people have fellowship with one another. Being in the front of the house, the stoop is the spot where all people congregate, discuss, and plan. It is quite important for the Jesuits to be in close communication with his fellow man. Not only did Jesus command us to love our neighbor (see Luke 10:27), but the Jesuits Constitution clearly states that Jesuits are to “not only to apply one's self to one's own salvation and to perfection with the help of divine grace but to employ all one's strength, for the salvation and perfection of one's neighbor.” God gives us an inborn desire to be in communion with him and others (see Matthew 18:20), and the stoop can act as a crossroads for this meeting.

However, with the stoops being replaced by private backyard patios with bar-b-ques, politicians making decisions based on their election status, and devious public officials giving non-answers to simple questions; it is easy to see that the city is in dire need of a divine interruption from the ordinary. We, Loyola College, are the divine interruption that this city has been weeping for.