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By
Rev. Michael C. McFarland, S.J.
 The
following is an excerpt
from Fr. McFarland's homily, delivered at the Liturgical Celebration on the Feast
of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross:
Did you ever wonder why the
physician's staff, which we often see on doctors' offices, clinics and hospitals,
has a couple of snakes on it-and poisonous snakes at that? It seems odd that
the source of affliction should be part of the symbol of healing. There is a
strange contradiction there, one that the first reading tells us is not incidental,
but is somehow fundamental to God's saving
plan for the people of Israel.
The same kind of contradiction is inherent in the feast we celebrate today, which
is the name day of our College. Why would we call "holy" an instrument of torture
and execution, and how can we celebrate its "triumph"? After
all, we don't talk about the Holy Gallows or the Triumph of the Electric
Chair.
The
short answer, of course, is that the power of God's love, given to us in Jesus
Christ, is strong enough to transform death into life, hatred and destruction
into healing and salvation. But we must realize that it was only in encountering,
and even embracing, rejection, pain and death, that Jesus was able to enter into
his triumph and bring new life to all God's people. This contradiction and the
irony behind it is captured well in
today's Gospel, where Jesus talks about being "lifted up," meaning both his death
on the cross and his exaltation in glory. The two are inseparable.
What this means for us is that as a Jesuit, and therefore a Catholic and Christian
college, and especially as the College of the Holy Cross, it is our calling to
live out this contradiction. It is our mission to encounter, and even embrace,
elements of our world that are alien, and even threatening to us, but always
in the confidence that if this is done in love and fidelity, it will become a
transforming and life-giving experience, both for us and for our world. It is
this encounter with the Other, often seen as dark and menacing, where we can
find our greatest triumph. More specifically, as a college dedicated to the personal,
moral and intellectual growth of all its members, and the building of a just
and caring community, it means finding ways to be faithful to our beliefs and
traditions while engaging-in
a way that is both appreciative and critical-other ideas, beliefs and practices.
As the College of the Holy Cross, we cannot become either a closed fortress of
Catholicism, or a bland, soulless jumble of different ideas, cultures and practices.
Either one would be a betrayal of our mission. We must learn to live in the tension
between commitment and openness, between witness and dialogue, between faith
and critical inquiry. If we can find a way to do that within our own community
and model it for the rest of society, we will be making a vital contribution.
It would be a triumph indeed.
There are several dimensions along which this must take place. One is religion.
We must provide an environment that supports and encourages the development of
the Catholic faith among the majority of our students who are Catholic, providing
meaningful and attractive opportunities for education, worship and spiritual
development. We must also support the spiritual and moral development of students
of other faiths.
A second very important area is ethics. We cannot ignore the important moral
issues of our day, both issues of personal conduct, such as sexuality, drug and
alcohol abuse, violence, hatred and prejudice; and social issues, such as economic
justice, the meaning of private property, health care, professional ethics, reverence
for life, individual, political and economic rights, and so on. Fortunately,
our position as a religious and specifically Catholic institution gives us permission
to take these issues seriously, the basis for an institutional commitment on
many of them, and the starting point for a meaningful dialogue. But we have to
have the courage and wisdom both to hold to our convictions on these important
issues, and to engage the wider culture, inside and outside of our community,
in genuine dialogue
on these often difficult, emotional and controversial questions.
A third area where a difficult but potentially life-giving tension must be faced
is with culture. Holy Cross, given its history and traditions, has always had
an unusually strong and coherent culture, basically East Coast Irish Catholic.
There are great advantages to that. It has been able to offer a warm and supportive
community to those who came here, especially if they came from the majority culture.
There was a great deal of agreement and understanding on important issues. Everyone
spoke the same language. There is and always has been a strong sense of family
here. Now, however, the situation has changed. We are much more aware of other
emerging groups who are interested in, and can benefit from, the educational
opportunities we have to offer. We must reach out more effectively to a variety
of different cultures, races, and ethnicities, not only in our academic discussions,
but also in our on-campus life and in the make-up of our community. The challenge
is to maintain the strong sense of unity, friendship and mutual support that
we all treasure here. This is another tension, another contradiction, we must
embrace.
This mission, to bring the riches of our Catholic heritage into serious dialogue
with a wider world that is indifferent, often uncomprehending, and even hostile,
is a difficult, but not unfamiliar one. In fact, it has been part of Jesuit education
from its earliest days. The Society of Jesus was founded during the Renaissance,
when there was an explosion of knowledge, with new scientific discoveries, a
flowering of the arts and humanities, and the beginning of the age of exploration,
where Europeans were discovering a wealth of new cultures, peoples and languages.
It was also the time of the Reformation, when Europe was wracked by bitter theological
disputes. The Jesuits plunged into all of this with tremendous energy and optimism.
They themselves became scientists and artists; and their schools taught the new
humanism. Jesuits were on some of the first ships to head off to Africa, India,
Japan, China and the Americas. There they learned new languages and cultures
and became adept at adapting the message of the Gospel to
these new contexts.
This
mission is part of Holy Cross' history as well. It has always produced leaders
who are principled and grounded in their tradition, yet able to act credibly
and effectively in the wider society. A wonderful symbol of
Holy Cross' spirit and mission is our main gate at the bottom of Linden Lane,
built in 1917. Most of us go by it every day and never notice it.
I didn't either until a couple of people drew my attention to it. The gate has
two stone pillars. The one on the left is marked by the seal of the commonwealth
of Massachusetts. The one on the right bears the Papal coat of arms. There they
stand opposite one another, church and state, the secular and the spiritual.
The two have not always gotten along well here. For the first 20 years of our
existence, we could not get a charter from the Commonwealth, because many legislators
did not want to support a Catholic college, while the College, respecting the
desires of its sponsor, Bishop Fenwick, would not accept non-Catholics. So there
has always been that tension between the two. Nevertheless, on a wrought-iron
arch tying the two together is the seal of the Society of Jesus, the name of
Jesus on a blazing sun, topped by the cross. That is what we are about here at
Holy Cross, building bridges between different worlds, including those where
there has not always been an easy relationship.
A wonderful example of that occurred here last spring when we gave an honorary
degree to Aaron Lazare, chancellor and dean of the University of Massachusetts
Medical School. Shortly thereafter, when he addressed his own graduates, he said
he was "moved to the core" that he, a Jew who had experienced considerable anti-Semitic
prejudice from Christians when growing up, would be honored
by Holy Cross. "That was," he said, "the healing of a stranger. I am a stranger
no more." That led him to reflect on how patients are often "strangers" when
they come into the medical system, and how important it is for the physician
to welcome them and make them feel at home, so they can be healed. For us it
was such a simple gesture, and an obvious one, given Dr. Lazare's stature and
accomplishments; but it was a very significant one as well, because of the willingness
to reach across the boundaries between religions and cultures. Because of that
outreach, the message of acceptance was able to bring healing to Dr. Lazare,
and through his ministration, was given
to many others as well.
What we learn from these readings is that the cross of Christ is an instrument
of salvation precisely because it confronts us with the brokenness and the divisions
with which we live, so that the love of God can bring healing and new life. That
becomes our mission, too, as the College of the Holy
Cross.
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