No one else thinks exactly like me. My thinking does not fit neatly into any broader school of thought such as is represented by a journal. It is strongly Catholic but also "catholic" in incorporating disparate influences. It is in part that my restless, voracious intellect has wandered widely into diverse arenas of Catholic life and thought. It is also the influence of these two brilliant but eccentric and unknown thinkers.
Many Influences
I was described by a friend, in my young adulthood, as a "mendicant theological student." That might describe much of my adult life: a passion for depth, intensity, and clarity in my Catholic faith.
Growing up in the thriving 1950s American Catholicism of Bishop Sheen, Thomas Merton, Fr. (the rosary) Peyton, Flannery O'Connor, and the Kennedy's, I came of age in the tumultuous 60s with its procession of social and ecclesial movements: labor, anti-communism, civil rights, development of the third world, peace, hippies, new left, feminists, ecumenism, social justice, liturgy, scripture, Jewish-Catholic dialogue, a host of humanistic and therapeutic psychologies, the consequential Vatican II, the sexual-cultural revolution, basic Christian communities and others.
I have been taught by or taught with: Convent Station Charities, Christian Brothers, Diocesan priests, Maryknoll Fathers, Jesuits, Caldwell Dominicans, and Felicians. I have benefited by friendship, hospitality and direction from Benedictines, Franciscan Friars of the Renewal, and hermits of Chester NJ and Livingston Manor NY.
I have participated in: Maryknoll College Seminary, Woodstock Jesuit School of Theology (along with Union Theological, Jewish Theological, Teacher's College, and Columbia), Cursillo, Charismatic Renewal, Marriage Encounter, Catholic Worker, Communio conferences, Communion and Liberation gatherings, Our Lady's Missionaries of he Eucharist, 12-step meetings, the Recovery Program (of Dr. Lowe), Jewish-Christian studies at Seton Hall, CCD and confirmation preparation, and the Neocatechumenal Way.
Yet I have never fully given myself to any of these, reserving an exclusive allegiance to the Roman Catholic Church, which is host to all of them. I enjoy many intellectual companions among family and friends, but none (not even wife and children) share all my constitutive convictions. For example, the Charismatic Renewal was an important influence. We did share this as a married couples, but in different manners. But among perhaps 100 family and friends with whom I discuss religion, culture and politics, I can think of two or three that share this engagement. Consider: how many of my theological/political conservative allies in the Culture War share my enthusiasms for the Catholic Worker, Charismatic Renewal or the Neocatechumenate? Very few! So there is a slight loneliness here.
Illich and von Hugel
Some of my strangeness comes from the influence of these two towering intellectuals who are today entirely unknown, in the academy and in the Church. They are quite different but share striking characteristics which I have found enchanting.
Illich is the brilliant, controversial monsignor who voluntarily laicized to pursue vigorous advocacy for radical social change. He was a fierce critic of modernity as alienating and debilitating in its inhumane, "giganticness" of bureaucracy and technocracy in the Catholic missionary effort, schools, medicine and other.
Von Hugel was the autodidact aristocrat, influential as a "modernist" thinker who deferred docilely to the Vatican's repression of that movement and studied the mysticism that he himself exemplified.
What makes them both fascinating for me is:
1. Traditional: Both European aristocrats were deeply Catholic and extremely well versed in the history of the Church so they critiqued, and appreciated, modernity from a clear, broad, deep perspective. Both were old world polyglots, fluent in many languages and the cultures they carry.
2. Mystical: In unique manners, each drew from a profound communion with God in Christ within His Church.
3. Radical: Illich especially articulated a most broad, profound critique of Western modernity in its surrender to the enslaving regime of technocracy. His critique was far more penetrating than that of the Catholic New Left of his time.
4. Erudite. Their learning was encyclopedic. Hugel was known as the most learned European of his time. Yet he had no formal schooling, but learned entirely from tutors and on his own. Illich studied both history and theology but most of his learning was on his own and informally in accord with his advocacy of "deschooling society."
5. Outlaws. Both got in trouble with the Church; both reconciled but assumed their unique, lay postures. Neither were professional theologians. Hugel was a modernist. Illich was beckoned to Rome in the summer of 1968 (when I myself was studying conversational Spanish at his amazing institute in Cuernavaca, Mexico) to account for controversial views. He disagreed with the Church on birth control, about their failure to condemn nuclear weapons, and in the theology of the priesthood. His negative view of Catholic missionary activity in Latin America as cultural imperialism (invasion of the Irish-American Catholic parish system) was perhaps the biggest concern. But both reconciled with the Church to pursue secular endeavors dear to their hearts.
6. Lay. Each represented what Balthasar would call a "lay" style. They were lay in two ways: distinct from the academy and from the clergy. Neither pursued a university academic career but operated outside of those institutions with a striking originality and freedom of thought, drawing from a mesmerizing range of sources. Hugel was a layman, father, and aristocrat. This may be one reason why he emerged from the modernist crisis unscathed: as a non-clergy he did not threaten the Vatican, as an aristocrat he was very well connected. Illich was a priest and influential monsignor but critiqued the hierarchy (in a blistering America article "The Vanishing Clergyman.") He deliberately surrendered his clerical rights and privileges (while remaining faithful to his vows regarding celibacy and prayer of the office) in order to pursue a lay mission of social advocacy that he recognized as incompatible with the role of a priest.
7. Secular. They both enjoyed a range of appreciations of culture and learning far beyond the domain of religious piety and scholastic theology: popular and native cultures, cinema, science, literature, secular philosophy and such.
8. Liberal. In the classic sense of "free" these two were uninhibited by religious anxieties to engage in dialogue and secular culture, entirely "catholic" as open to all that is good, true and beautiful.
9. Eccentric. Each genius was entirely unique, distinct, creative and original. They themselves exerted influence, within small circles, but seemed to emulate only their Savior, in his Triune Communion, and a broad range of other intellectual giants, ancient and contemporary.
10. Unknown. This is the strangest thing of all: in the Church and academy today they are entirely unknown. They deeply influenced those fortunate to be close to them, but never became pop intellectual stars. This endears them to me all the more.
Conclusion
They also bear resemblance to perhaps the only Catholic thinker of the 20th century to excel them in erudition, insight and the co-inherence of wisdom and holiness: Hans Urs von Balthasar, another European aristocrat, polyglot, mystic, whose thought ranged beyond theology into culture. His education was not primarily theological, but in German culture. He despised the seminary scholastic theology and drew from the fathers, doctors and Scripture as well as thinkers in all fields to develop an original theological synthesis that was deeply traditional and yet creative.
These two eccentric were not my primary mentors in my Catholic vision. In college the Neo-thomism of Maritian and Gilson gave me the definitive answer to the great "masters of suspicion," Marx, Nietzche, Darwin and Freud. This view was sharpened a few years later by two Jesuit theologians: the saintly Joe Whelan and the erudite Avery Cardinal Dulles. But I consider that my theological maturity came from Balthasar, John Paul, Benedict and the David Schindler school at the John Paul Institute. This group developed in greater ontological depth Illich's critique of modernity, even as it was rooted in a classic Catholic mysticism.\
Recently, however, I recall Illich and Hugel reverently: they awaken a freedom of spirit and thought, a sense of agency and creativity, a distinctly "lay" identity in the God-given world beyond the boundaries of the sacramental Church.
These two endearing, eccentric, brilliant, Christ-and-Church-and-life-loving "saints" (in no canonical sense) are an inspiration to me. My hope is to emulate them: in passion for Truth, in freedom of thought, in wisdom, in a sophisticated devotion to Tradition, in love for life, and in the friendship of the Trinity.
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