The Element of Surprise in Jesuit Education

In the early spring semester of 1971, the Sharp Bank scandal hit the news, and Strake Jesuit, almost overnight, was in danger of having to permanently close its doors. Judge Mark Davidson ’71 recently shared some of the results of his lifelong study of this era of Strake Jesuit’s history in a presentation to faculty, staff, and students. Among the scores of interesting details was a Texas law in force at the time that required high school seniors to be enrolled for the full duration of the spring semester to graduate. Since the semester had already begun when the news of the scandal and devastating bankruptcy became public, the Jesuit province reluctantly allowed the school to complete the semester before shutting down.

As it turned out, the first Spring Fling that was intended to raise the money necessary to keep the school running until the end of the school year was enormously successful. Seeing the strong support of friends and benefactors brought about a change of attitude in provincial leadership and Strake Jesuit was allowed to keep its doors open. The whole story of the bankruptcy, the Sharp scandal, and the resilience and determination of the Strake Jesuit community is worthy content for a major film production or novel. Poor decisions by some Jesuits in those early years put the school in serious danger, but other decisions that followed were nothing short of genius. The whole story is truly remarkable, even stunning, and highlights the contingencies of history, the role of everyday heroes who rise to face great challenges, and the element of surprise in our school’s history.

Surprising events are not new in the history of Jesuit education. Indeed, a very compelling case can be made that surprise and openness to new possibilities are deeply interwoven into the fabric of Jesuit history and education.

St. Ignatius of Loyola, the founder of the Society of Jesus, nearly lost his life in Pamplona after rallying troops to stay with him and defend a relatively insignificant citadel against the invading French. His leg shattered, he was taken back to the family castle to recover or, more likely, die. Even after his leg had healed, he risked death again by insisting that the protruding bone in his leg be shaved off so that he would look good in uniform. His lifelong struggle with vainglory is especially evident in this moment of his life, but it is certainly not an isolated story. St. Ignatius was a stubborn man who also had a deep drive to be the very best and to be recognized as the very best. His desire to serve the king, even at risk to his own life, coupled together with his hard-headedness, made him an especially unlikely candidate to found a religious order as Ignatius entered the second half of his 20s.

Yet it just so happened that the Loyola house had only a few books for Ignatius to read during his long recovery, and neither matched his taste for chivalric novels and romance stories. Instead, St. Ignatius had a large book of imaginative reflections on the life of Christ and a collection of stories about saints. These books gave him the content and tools to create a longing for something much more heavenly, spiritual, and enduringly meaningful than his worldly ambitions. Through the crucible of consolations and desolations, leading him to great moments of elation as well as deep depression and feelings of hopelessness, St. Ignatius formed an approach to the spiritual life, a path to discerning the manner of God’s work in human lives and a way to detachment or total freedom and openness to knowing and choosing God’s will that has been enduringly meaningful and transformative for Jesuits as well as many laypersons whom the spirituality of this unlikely saint has touched.

St. Ignatius and his early companions saw themselves as very much like a military unit in the service of the Church and under the direction of the Pope, the Church’s commander in chief. The “fourth vow” highlighted in the Formula of the Institute (1540), the original document in which St. Ignatius and others described what they had in mind in forming a new religious order, gives witness to this desire to go wherever the need was greatest. This idea of Jesuits “on the move,” always ready to do what was needed, was quickly put to the test as the Jesuits were tapped to teach in schools. Their long process of formation and education made them a natural fit to teach in institutions that, by their very nature, involved faculty that stayed in a particular location for extended periods of time.

St. Ignatius certainly imagined education of the “unlettered” as part of the mission of the Society of Jesus from the very beginning. The early Jesuits would search out children and social misfits to educate and serve. In time, however, St. Ignatius came to see that more formal education was a powerful way to accomplish the thing he most wanted to achieve: helping souls. The enduring impact of Jesuit education throughout the world is an ongoing witness to the wisdom of this surprising development.

St. Ignatius wanted to serve God’s greater glory. By this, he meant finding the path that accomplishes “the more universal good.” When faced with more than one good option, which of these paths allows a person to accomplish more good for more souls? The path to this end is filled with surprises, something the history of Strake Jesuit, as well as the five-hundred-year history of the Society of Jesus, continues to make clear.

What does the future hold for Strake Jesuit? Who knows? Given an uncertain future, however, we can be confident that, guided by the motto, ad majorem dei gloriam, we will continue to help souls and be surprised along the way.