The Jesuits Come to Rome

By Richard N. Ostling

After meeting with the Pope, a wary standoff

Since 1542, the Society of Jesus has been the "Pope's light cavalry," serving as front-line educators and missionaries. The most elite Jesuits swear a special vow of fealty to the Pope, which in practice has allowed Roman Catholicism's biggest and most influential men's order to pursue a course throughout the world that is largely independent of local bishops and parishes. But during the past decade the light cavalry has also been somewhat independent of what the Pope would like. John Paul II is not a Pontiff to suffer such waywardness in prayerful silence, and he has moved briskly in recent months to control his special troops. Last week 104 of the order's leaders were in Italy, summoned by John Paul to an unprecedented shape-up meeting. At the end, the Jesuits were relieved that their fiercely prized autonomy was still mostly intact. "We played what many would call a Jesuitical game," said one pleased participant. But they were also newly on notice about just what their papal marching orders are.

The Pope's crackdown began last year after Jesuit Superior General Pedro Arrupe, considered Catholicism's second most powerful leader, suffered a serious stroke. In October, John Paul cast aside Arrupe's choice of an interim leader and landed control to his personal delegate, Jesuit Father Paolo Dezza. Some 5,000 protest letters came to the order's headquarters from the 86 Jesuit regional units around the globe. A group of 18 West German Jesuits, including eminent Theologian Karl Rahner, complained sharply to the Pope that it was difficult to "recognize the hand of God in this ruling."

When John Paul followed that action by calling the international Jesuit leadership to Rome for further instructions, the grumbles and concern mounted. Some of the North and South Americans arrived for the meeting in T shirts and blue jeans, a minor act of sartorial insouciance, given John Paul's insistence on traditional dress (they wore clerical garb when they met the Pontiff). Many of the leaders were in a fighting mood, armed with massive documentation on the good works they were accomplishing.

Except for one session in Rome, the meeting took place at the Villa Cavalletti amid the vineyards of the Frascati region twelve miles outside Rome. The bucolic setting may have helped. In any event, the anticipated confrontations never occurred. Dezza, 80, won more esteem from the Jesuit leaders than had been expected. But his very strength as a master of the Vatican bureaucracy also meant, said one participant, that his "mindset was such that it would be useless to debate." The assembled priests quietly decided that he was unable to comprehend how Jesuits out in the provinces must work to deal with materialism or widespread poverty.

As for the climactic confrontation, John Paul sought to ease that--at least a little. During a 75-minute audience in the Vatican, he informed the group that some time this year Dezza would call a General Congregation to elect Arrupe's permanent successor. This assuaged the Jesuits' fear that the emergency regime would continue indefinitely. The call for the meeting will be only the first step in a complex procedure; the election itself will not take place until 1983.

But the good news was accompanied by a renewed demand of obedience, delivered with characteristic Slavic bluntness rather than the Italianate finesse that previous Popes have used with the Jesuits. "There is no longer room for deviations," declared the Pope. Then he startled his audience with a new interpretation of the order's papal vow. Since the Pontiff is the head of the hierarchy, said John Paul, Jesuits are "likewise linked" to the Catholic bishops "by a bond that calls you to be united with them in pastoral charity and in close practical collaboration."

Such an extension of the traditional concept of obedience could produce upheaval in Latin America, where bishops are sometimes politically conservative and many Jesuit activists are sympathetic to left-wing insurgents. John Paul's wish is that the Jesuits remain nonpolitical while proclaiming moral principles of social justice.

The Pope also pressed hard on the need for spirituality, emphasizing that a Jesuit should know his theology and Catholic doctrine. Said one moderate at the meeting: "There has been so much emphasis in the order on 'being relevant' that many Jesuits are theologically illiterate. What the Holy Father is saying is that Jesuits should know something about what happened between Jesus and Vatican II."

For the most part, however, the Jesuits came away feeling relieved. John Paul no doubt hopes that the new Superior General will be a tough traditionalist in his own mold and that many of the provincial superiors who met in Rome will gradually be succeeded by more reliable conservatives. But the Vatican has minimal power to control the forthcoming election. The model for a new leader, said one meeting participant, "ideally should be a man combining the charisma of Arrupe with the Vatican bureaucratic touch of Dezza." That know-low, the Jesuits now see, can help to keep the lines of communication clear. But there was little sense that greater communication would mean less independence. Remarked one confident liberal: "We have been happy to come here to listen to the Pope. Now we will return home and remain silent for a certain time, avoiding any spectacular gestures or publications or criticisms of the Pope. Later we will elect the reneral of our choice--and nothing will change."

--By Richard N. Ostling. Reported by Wilton Wynn/Rome

With reporting by Wilton Wynn/Rome

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