Showing posts with label jesuits. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jesuits. Show all posts

Crossings & Dwellings: Restored Jesuits, Women Religious, American Experience, 1814-2014 (book preview)

This post offers a very brief preview of a volume of essays on post-restoration Jesuits edited by Stephen Schloesser and Kyle Roberts of Loyola University and published with Brill.


As readers of this blog are well aware, the Jesuits were “restored” in 1814 by Pope Pius VII after being suppressed by Pope Clement XIV in 1773. The men who remained in the order went underground for over forty years. Historians have noted that the Society of Jesus that emerged from that crucible held a deep aversion towards liberalism and nationalism. Yet, for this reason and others, the essays in
Crossings and Dwellings: Restored Jesuits, Women Religion and American Experience make the case that a study of post-Restoration Jesuits (1814-1965) can provide historians a useful lens for studying American modernity.

Post-Restoration Jesuits inhabited a tension: they were loyal to the papacy and fierce critics of nationalism, yet they respected the separation of Church and State and built a range of institutions help Catholic immigrants become democratic citizens. How can this tension (one studied by John McGreevy in American Jesuits and the World) help historians to understand America between Jacksonian Democracy and the Great Society?




One of the innovative features of Crossings in Dwellings is an organization schema linked to Tom Tweed’s theory of religion. “Tweed offers a theory of religion,” the editors Kyle Roberts and Stephen Schloesser note, "that addresses the centrality of movement, the interdependence of relation, and the importance of position in understanding the religious life of transnational migrants. His formulation is well suited to the experience of thousands of Jesuits who have come to the United States from  Europe and around the world since the restoration."The first section, “Crossings I”, examines post-restoration Jesuits interactions with indigenous people and immigrants. Section two, “Dwellings I,” looks at a series of “urban hybrids” such as city religions, medical schools, and universities. “Dwellings II” then looks at the tension between the Jesuit’s appreciation for the nation and their continued critiques of the nation-state in college curricula, the work of Jesuit playwright Daniel Lord, and activist Daniel Berrigan. And “Crossings II” meditates on a series of borderlands and boundaries between institutions of higher learning, Jesuit John Ford and obliteration bombing, Native Americans, and ecumenism.

The essays offer an empirical grounding of the tension between critique and sympathy and Tweed's theory helps the reader to see these conflicts in a continuous push of crossing, dwelling, and bubbling. Jesuits not only traversed the Atlantic Ocean, they moved domestically between New York and New Orleans, Washington D.C. and Alaska. Along the way they interacted with women religious from a range of orders. They took trunks, bags, books, spoons, chalices, bibles, pens, paintings, and all sorts of other materialities with them wherever they went. The continued motion was matched with the continued conflict between nation and faith. Nineteenth century Jesuit hospitals insisted on maintaining a commitment to the early modern curricula even as they adapted their institutions to the new standards of professionalism. Orestes Brownson, the most important American Catholic intellectual of the nineteenth century, lambasted the Jesuits for their lack of enthusiasm about the Union. Holy Cross College had three goals for their students in the nineteenth century: (1) produce a devotional tendency focused on the pope; (2) help students embrace the liberalism of the constitution; and (3) foster a spirit of service to non-Catholics and even anti-Catholics. How would an undergraduate come to terms with those tensions? E. Boyd Barret SJ insisted on studying and teaching psychoanalysis at the start of the twentieth century, much to the growing dismay of his superiors. Yet, he was sent back and forth between London and New York for further studies of psychoanalysis. He eventually left the Jesuits in 1925.  Daniel Berrigan SJ, it is worth recalling, moved from a reverence towards the US to a deep critique of its violence as the twentieth century pressed on.  Crossings and Dwellings places these stories in the deeper context of the post-Reformation Society of Jesus.

How does the post-restoration Jesuit imaginary, a tension and a thing in motion, help us to understand American history in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries? As the essays show, American history has a cast of characters, the Jesuits – with a wide range of institutions at their disposal – who don’t see the nation-state as the end of history. In other words, the nation-state in American modernity is a contested entity, as we know, but it does not define the mental horizons of an important contingent of priests who were deeply transformed by the democratic revolutions of the late 18th century. They might be unique in their hesitation towards nationalism, one of the most important characteristics of modernity. Yet the Jesuits also show us, through the case studies, that the nation-state remained an important layer of reality. Jesuits developed institutions to help immigrants become citizens; to assist Catholics in accessing the corridors of power; and they created curricula to foster a connection between faith and nation. These essays give us a view into the tension-ridden worldview of American Jesuits. This should help historians of religion to think more clearly about the relationship between faith and nation.

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Taking Classes to the Archives


Emily Suzanne Clark

Readers of the blog might remember that I like to post about teaching. A big part of my teaching is primary sources and that increasingly includes archives. I first blogged about taking a class into the Jesuit archives back in November 2015, shortly after having my American Christianities class work in the archives. That was my first time taking my class on an archival field trip, and since then I've taken four more classes back. I'm hooked, and it seems they are too. Many have told me that they hope the assignment remains on the syllabus for future classes.

Two students digitizing photos,
from spring 2016 Native American Religions.
Back when I took my first class into the archives, I blogged and raved about Anthony Grafton and James Grossman's piece in The American Scholar about how student experiences in archives help them develop "habits of mind" and begin to form their scholarly selves. Now, when I take my class into the archives we're not doing full-blown research projects, but we might be getting there. Since that initial foray into archives and pedagogy, I've taken my spring 2016 Native American Religions class into the Jesuit archives, along with a first-year seminar called Race in America (fall 2016 and spring 2017), and my American Christianities class again (spring 2017). With the exception of Native American Religions each class spent one week on an archival project; Native American Religions spent about four weeks. Each class I've learned more about how to effectively teach with archives, and each time, I have loved it.

Short digitizing break to smile for the camera!
(That class was the only one I photographed.)
I won't summarize the American Christianities archive experience, as that was recounted last time. This semester we did more or less the same project. The Native American Religions class project had a digital humanities component and really needs a stand-alone post. The project had its successes and its not-so-successes and I'm stoked to try it again with two sections this fall! (If you're really curious, click here.) Instead I'd like to focus here on my Race in America first-year seminar class. They looked at 5 boxes from the "Radicals Collection," an unprocessed hodgepodge. A while back there was a Jesuit who was fascinated by radical groups in the region and begin to collect newspaper clippings, pamphlets, photographs, etc. on various radical groups. There are four boxes of material on the Ku Klux Klan and one on various white supremacy groups in Idaho and the rest of the region (Neo-Nazis, skinheads, Aryan Nations, and more). In groups of four, they each took one of those boxes. Being an unprocessed collection meant there was no archival guide and no clear organization for the material. I encouraged the class to enjoy that aspect. They had recently finished Paul Harvey's Bounds of Their Habitation: Race and Religion in American History and I reminded them that he had to sift through tons of material to tell that story. Their task was similar: figure out the story of their box. Each group turned in a 3-4 page reflection on the experience that focused on four main questions: What kind of materials did you look at? What did those materials have to say? What do they tell us as scholars? How do they fit in their historical and cultural contexts? They were fascinated by the KKK's local popularity, as the Jesuit amassed a lot of material about the Klan in Portland, Seattle, Spokane, and the rest of the Pacific Northwest. The Klan-produced material helped them see how the organization marketed and presented itself, and the newspaper coverage highlighted both acceptance of the Klan and pushback. The newspaper clippings on the strong presence of the Aryan Nations in the late 20th century (1970s and 1980s) reminded them that though the KKK is not widespread in the region anymore, the power of white supremacy is certainly still around. (To prepare them for this project, we read Kelly J. Baker's "Robes, Fiery Crosses, and the American Flag: The Materiality of the 1920s' Klan's Patriotism, and Intolerance" from Material Religion.)

As a fun bonus for those still reading, here's my take on best practices with archival projects (which might one day be its own blog post). Others might have a different take, and each project is going to be a little different.
1. Allow time and room for play. I sometimes feel like class time can be rigid, which is not a bad thing on its own but it can get monotonous. Spending time with archives switches things up and gets students out of their desks and into a new space. Those two things alone set a different tone and atmosphere that encourages creativity and curiosity. Archives, then, become a great place to explore.
Two students and the wonderful archivist digitizing photos,
from spring 2016 Native American Religions.
2. Select manageable amounts of material. Too much material can overwhelm students who are not used to archives and lead to exclamations of, "we can't read all this!" I remind them often that reading everything is not their task, but rather to begin crafting a story based on the material in front of them. I also don't like giving them too few documents, but rather the right amount to keep them busy and interested. In other words, I try to leave them with even more questions.
3. I'm a fan of group work for archive projects. They can divide and conquer more material, they work through difficult/challenging/strange documents together, and they explain the material to each other. If you do group projects though, I recommend having each student fill out a short peer team assessment form that has them evaluate how they and the rest of the group cooperated together. It typically helps ensure a healthy group dynamic and it encourages them to be thoughtful about how they work with their peers—something they'll need to know, regardless of their chosen careers. (Confession: I stole my peer team assessment form from the fantastic Katie Faull.)
 4. Befriend your library and special collections staff! Not only are they wonderful people, but also they are the best wellsprings of knowledge about the material. And, chances are, they enjoy working with undergraduate students! With an archival project, collaboration is your friend.
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