By the Numbers

Perry Wiggins enrolled at Xavier in 1996 right after high school, but found himself undecided and unhappy. So he left his sophomore year, got married, had a child and picked up a temp job at Procter & Gamble. There, he fell in love with the corporate environment and put his free time to good use—introspection. “My time away from school gave me the opportunity to learn more about myself, particularly my likes and dislikes,” Wiggins says.

With his new knowledge, Wiggins decided to re-enroll at Xavier in May 2002—in a big way. Over the next three and a half years, he not only pursued his bachelor’s degree in accounting but also his M.B.A. degree, occasionally taking five classes a semester while working full time and raising a family.

Finding time to study proved to be, well, a challenge. “Even after a long day of work and school, I still had to spend time with my wife and daughter,” he says. “And even after kissing them goodnight, there was always a chapter to read and always a paper to type or a test to study for.”

Wiggins usually began studying at 10:00 p.m. and learned to manage on five or six hours of sleep. “Time management was the key to keeping everything in balance,” says Wiggins, who now works at the accounting firm Deloitte & Touche. “I also credit God and his divine strength for getting me through those exhausting days.”

A Farmiliar Ring

License plates, bumper stickers, sweatshirts and giant foam fingers are only a few of the ways to show your Xavier pride. And now Cincinnati Bell is giving alumni yet another means to celebrate their alma mater: a downloadable ringtone for their cell phones.

Unlike other wireless companies, Cincinnati Bell is offering the Xavier fight song to alumni at no charge. To download the ringtone visit www.cbwireless.com.

Now when your phone rings at basketball games, people will just think you’re part of the band.

A Different X-box

Once the ubiquitous space reserved for vacation magnets, coupons and children’s finger paintings, refrigerators are now taking on collegiate colors and logos. FanClub Appliances, a division of Advance Distribution Services in Louisville, Ky., developed a refrigerator for even the most hardcore Musketeer fan.

 

The 18-cubic foot frigidarium has a thin metal panel integrated onto the doors with high gloss graphics of the Xavier Musketeer and an illustrated basketball court.

“We chose Ohio State, the University of Cincinnati and Notre Dame to go to market in Ohio,” says marketing manager Mary Kuebel. “Once we crossed the river into Cincinnati and started to visit some area independent appliance dealers, we started to hear ‘What about Xavier?’”

For more information on the refrigerator, visit the web site www.fanclubappliances.com.

The Rein of Peace and Justice

The green-carpeted stairway leads up to the second floor of Xavier’s Dorothy Day House, its narrowness hinting at the cramped quarters above. Benjamin J. Urmston, S.J., leads the way, weaving across the broad landing and into the far-left office where he gestures toward a well-worn easy chair swathed in a green blanket.

“You can sit there,” he says. “Cesar Chavez took a nap in that chair.”

The offhand tenor of the comment fits well with the nature of the room. It’s filled with a cacophony of remembrances dating back several decades—the 2002 Maurice McCracken Peace and Justice Award, a sign reading “Peace is Patriotic,” a diploma for his doctorate in peace studies, a United Nations flag, a wooden cross with a hollow center “so we can crawl into it.”

Books and papers are piled high, deep and tenuously on an array of steel office furniture, none of which matches. There’s no pretense to the room, making it the perfect backdrop for a man who’s spent his career earnestly and single-mindedly engaged in the pursuit of peace and justice. It’s also a logical epicenter of the University’s peace and justice programs, the little known, often overshadowed and sometimes controversial group that Urmston created in his room in the Jesuit residence in 1981.

This year holds landmarks for both: It’s been 60 years since Urmston joined the Society of Jesus, 35 years since his arrival at Xavier and 25 years since the birth of the peace and justice programs.

It also marks a changing of the guard—Urmston gives up the directorship of the programs this summer, although he’ll remain as director emeritus. You don’t retire from your life’s mission. Replacing a founder or an organizational figurehead is never easy, though, and when both are so tightly intertwined in the same person, the challenge is particularly daunting. In February, the University launched a national search for someone who might be able to succeed Urmston—if not carry the torch for peace and justice as passionately.

Almost 90 people applied, all lay persons, raising the possibility that the programs’ future might move in a different direction and will certainly lack the Jesuit credentials that helped deflect some of the angst its speakers and events have stirred over the years. Sitting among the memories in his office, Urmston freely admits that he hasn’t ducked the controversial or the provocative.

It was he who oversaw the birth of Shantytown, the annual campus event in which students build and live in cardboard shanties on the academic mall in an effort to bring attention to the plight of the homeless.

It was he who brought in speakers such as Chavez, the Mexican-American labor leader and founder of the United Farm Workers, and former U.S. presidential candidate John B. Anderson.

It was even he who collaborated to bring to campus “Eyes Wide Open,” the anti-war display that featured thousands of pairs of combat boots and hundreds of pairs of civilian shoes to commemorate U.S. soldiers and civilians killed in the Iraq war. But it’s also he who oversees student organizations such as Students for Life, Habitat for Humanity, St. Vincent de Paul and the Alternative Break Club in which students spend their spring and summer recesses serving the poor instead of partying.

The notion of peace and justice, Urmston says, is deeply engrained in Ignatian spirituality and applies to all people whether you like them or not. Some people just can’t see past their political views to the love of the programs’ intentions. And that’s why people get so mad at him.

Thin, dressed in a light blue sweater adorned with a “veterans for peace” button, a green shirt, black pants, socks and brown sandals, Urmston seems younger than his 80 years. He still maintains his web site and is clearly engaged; he speaks enthusiastically of his visions and hopes for the future; and then there’s his ready laughter.

“I think Fr. Ben’s greatest weapon for peace is his laughter,” says Claire Mugavin, assistant director for peace and justice programs. “I think it could disarm nuclear missiles if properly used.”

Not everyone is amused by his works, though, and occasionally verbal bombs drop on the University because of him or his efforts. Critics have labeled Urmston a “communist” and questioned his programs. Last year, the online publication Frontpagemag.com, attacked the University as a hotbed of “radical leftist politics,” called Urmston “a devout radical” and said his personal web site “is a veritable windmill of leftist propaganda.” Leaving no stone unturned, the article noted peace and justice programs’ “left-wing activist agenda.”

Predictably, others see him in a decidedly different light. “Martin Luther King and Ben—I put them in the same category,” says Xavier graduate and human rights activist Mary Schoen. “Those are the people who change things. I think Ben totally embodies what a Jesuit is. He’s spent his whole life living the Gospel.”

“He’s got this message as far as finding lasting peace,” adds Drew Peters, an assistant director for peace and justice programs. “That’s not an easy message for people. He’s really stuck to it. And I think you either love him or hate him. That’s the thing with peace and justice work—you’re talking about everything that affects everyone.”

Whatever the perspective, Urmston is no mere armchair advocate: His convictions have the strength of experience. An undergrad at Xavier during World War II, Urmston eventually found himself serving under Gen. George S. Patton in the U.S. Army’s 86th Infantry Division. He saw combat on the Rhine River, ended his European tour in Austria and was on his way to the Pacific front when the atomic bomb obliterated Hiroshima. Along the way, he saw civilizations reduced to rubble and witnessed no shortage of human suffering.

War affects people in many ways; Urmston turned to meditation and prayer. In the Philippines, he decided to become a Jesuit. “I was not in the worst part of the war,” he says, “but what I had was not a picnic. And I came out of that thinking, ‘There has to be a better way for us to solve disputes. There has to be a way to peace.’ I wanted a better world. I felt being a priest would be one way to pursue that—at least a good way for me. And that has proven to be true.”

His efforts have left their mark. He began the University’s peace studies minor, which this year has more than 30 students, and his disciples are now spread throughout the world with such organizations as the Jesuit Volunteer Corps and the U.S. Catholic Bishops’ Conference in Washington, D.C.

But last year, Urmston got a wake-up call. In June, his pulse dropped to 15 beats per minute and doctors installed a pacemaker. He’s doing well, but the quest for peace and justice is, in his words, “a special grace,” and that grace needs a rest. eaning back in his chair and pausing to think, Urmston reflects on his reality. “I’m an idealist,” he says, “and I’m proud of that.”

Urmston describes his approach to life as an attempt to arrive at a positive vision, based on considering “What kind of world would I really want?” and then examining what organizational structures are needed in order to do that.

“I think it’s good to have ideas. I think it’s good to have ideals. I think it’s good to have a vision of the future. The purpose is never to judge individuals but to analyze structures. There are times when we need to change our structures, and that’s not easy. That’s part of the reason why there’s opposition: We don’t like to change basic things.”

Determined to change things, Urmston returned from the war to Cincinnati and entered the Milford novitiate. By 1971, he was back at Xavier working in mission and ministry. He soon became active with community work in Avondale and Evanston, and in 1978 launched his radio show, “Faith and Justice Forum,” which ran for 28 years.

But Urmston saw a need for a greater focus on peace and justice—programs for student involvement. Then-University President Robert W. Mulligan, S.J., approved the idea and named Urmston director.

With no resources and no office, Urmston began working out of his room in Schott Hall. This legacy of student involvement began humbly, with a single club, Earthbread, an organization that studies food and hunger issues in the larger community.

Through the years, a small, dedicated core group of students has provided the lifeblood of the growing roster of programs. Mugavin estimates between 60-80 students currently form the programs’ core.

But between Alternative Break Club, which involves about 200 students, and various presentations and other activities, she says the programs touch about 800 students annually.

What’s next remains unknown. Where will the programs grow or shrink in Urmston’s absence? In 2005, he built a platform upon which he is leaving his legacy and his successor can build: the Vision of Hope speaker series. The series is not only based on the five pillars Urmston sees as key to a peaceful world—human rights, a global ethic, a culture of non-violence, establishing a democratic world order and economic democracy—but also underscores what is perhaps his greatest legacy: the importance of having a personal and institutional vision.

“The five pillars are not just mine,” he says. “I mean, after all, everybody agrees on human rights. I’d like to see Xavier develop those and get a common vision. And if someone wants to add a sixth pillar, fine. In other words, it doesn’t have to be my vision. But there should be a vision.”

As he sits in his office surrounded by his 25 years worth of efforts, he knows time is running short, and in a few months the reins of peace and justice he’s held for so long will be passed on. Even so, he can’t help but dream of what’s next.

“I don’t have in mind heaven,” he says. “But I have in mind the beginnings of a civilized earth.”

A Sense of Place

It’s raining outside and Marilyn Hanrahan is getting ready to leave. She’s on her way to her first Xavier men’s basketball game, and she wonders how chilly she’ll be. Unable to find something of her own, she rummages through her husband’s bureau and digs out a white sweatshirt. She pulls it over her head, looks in the mirror and reflects on how odd it seems for her to be wearing anything with the word “Xavier” on it. But there it is, in big blue letters. The mirror doesn’t lie.

A Norwood native, Hanrahan lives three blocks from the University, but until 2003 she’d never set foot on campus. Never wanted to. Not after years of unanswered complaints. Not after years of students’ loud parties, disorderly conduct and disrespectful behavior. Not after the soured relationship brought on by the closing of Ledgewood Avenue and construction of the Cintas Center, spawning exaggerated fears of the University taking over. And wearing a Xavier sweatshirt was certainly out of the question.

But in 2003, she and some neighbors formed the West Norwood Neighborhood Association and called a meeting with Xavier administrators. They laid out their problems, their frustrations and their anger and, to their surprise, the administrators listened.

Their timing was perfect. For its part, the University just began engaging in its new vision of the “University as citizen.” Sparked by University President Michael J. Graham, S.J., the vision called for Xavier to take on a greater responsibility toward the larger community of which it’s a member. It established a new office, the Community Building Collaborative at Xavier, to lead the way and revamp how it engages with its neighbors. While solidly based on the Jesuit value of serving others, the vision also creates a win-win arrangement: If the neighboring communities are thriving and safe, then the campus is perceived that way as well. Everyone benefits.

The new approach is light years from the traditional heavy-handed tactics of most urban universities, which have historically made decisions without including the surrounding communities in the discussion.

But it’s also becoming more common—Penn in western Philadelphia, Temple in northern Philadelphia, even Yale in the notoriously shabby section of New Haven, Conn., now partner with their neighboring communities in order to create improvements rather than fighting with them.

Realizing people are the key to building such relationships, Xavier began extending olive branches to its neighbors by offering opportunities to come on campus—for community building, leadership training and, in a few cases, even basketball tickets and an invitation to sit in the president’s suite.

So, clutching her game tickets, Hanrahan takes the offering and heads toward Cintas in her Xavier sweatshirt, realizing she’s become a symbolic participant, if still a wary one, in the new dialogue between Xavier and its neighbors.

Sharon Muyaya was worried. She knew what had to be done to save the neighborhood elementary school in Evanston. Hoffman school, suffering from declining enrollment and low test scores, was slated for closure. Only a partnership with a reputable institution like Xavier would keep it open. But Muyaya had to convince school leaders that Xavier was the answer. So Muyaya made a phone call.

It was a huge step forward for Evanston and Xavier, especially with the tense relationship that’s existed dating back more than a decade. In 1993, Muyaya opened her mailbox and found a notice from the City of Cincinnati informing her of Xavier’s intention to close a section of Ledgewood Avenue. It was the first she or any of her neighbors had heard of the plan, and they didn’t like it. The street cut through the heart of campus and was a common thoroughfare for residents. At the public hearing, they let the University know just how mad they were.

“They didn’t even talk to us. It was very insulting,” says Muyaya, who became president of the Evanston Community Council in 1999 and pushed Xavier hard to change its ways. “People would say, ‘Xavier is just going to take over Evanston and do what they want to do.'”

Their message wasn’t lost on Xavier. “We realized if we had any relationship at all, it was bad,” says Gene Beaupré, director for government relations at Xavier. “We realized we did have neighbors, and we needed to develop a relationship with them.”

The bitterness spawned by the Ledgewood issue was a rude awakening for Xavier. In its aftermath, the University created the Community Building Institute, a partnership with the United Way of Greater Cincinnati, and began offering support to local communities. But Xavier needed to focus on Evanston, where residents have battled crime and drugs for years. So in 2002, it hired Byron White from Chicago to run both the institute and the new Community Building Collaborative.

“If Evanston isn’t a safe place, then Xavier isn’t a safe place,” White says. “If no ones wants to live in Evanston, then no one wants to be at Xavier.”

White’s office used the possibility for such a partnership to win a $400,000 federal grant and created the Evanston-Norwood-Xavier Community Partnership. It then leveraged the grant into more than $3.6 million in total funds for such initiatives as helping seniors keep their homes, clearing nearby business corridors of drug dealing and crime, and improving neighborhood schools. Finally, the office, which also hired former Cincinnati city planning director Liz Blume, could begin making some of its ideas actually happen, beginning with Hoffman and a leadership academy of neighborhood residents.

This fall, the mostly white city of Norwood and mostly black community of Evanston are staging a joint community festival on Xavier property along Montgomery Road. The festival is the creation of the leadership academy, which, says Hanrahan, was a wonderful experience. “I learned we’re all dealing with the same problems. We have so much in common. They’re people just like we are.”

What’s important to note, says White, is that everyone is still learning what works, what doesn’t and how to trust each other. It hasn’t been easy. “We have to change our thinking,” Muyaya says. “Xavier is not going away. Evanston is not going away. We are connected at the hip.”

Tom Williams remembers responding to a complaint of a loud house party near campus around 1999 when he was captain of the Norwood Police Department. After making his way through the front yard packed with kids, he found the three-bedroom house wall-to-wall with bodies. Even the bathroom and stairs were impassable. When Williams found the student responsible for the house, he asked how many students lived there.

“No one lives here,” the student said. “We just rent it and use it to party.” Williams was stunned. The next day, he called the owner and chastised him for being irresponsible. The streets of Norwood north and east of campus are pockmarked with rental housing for students—and are the source of most of the historic conflict between Norwood and Xavier. For years, the phones rang at City Hall with homeowners complaining about loud, rowdy students throwing parties during the week as well as weekends. Neighbors felt helpless as the Xavier shuttle bus pulled up to disgorge more revelers on their block. The problem was accelerated by the city’s poor enforcement of city building codes and by irresponsible landlords who put too many students in one house.

Those were the days when Xavier practiced a hands-off attitude toward students living off campus. Then, in the summer of 2000, the University got into a spat with former Norwood Mayor Joe Hochbein, who erected a metal gate on Cleneay Avenue to protest construction of the Cintas Center. He claimed he was worried about the onslaught of traffic through his city during games and events.

Although the gate was never actually closed, it took members of the University’s board of trustees to intervene before Hochbein agreed to take it down.

“A basic issue was we didn’t have person-to-person contact and relationships,” says John Kucia, the University’s administrative vice president. “From a trust standpoint, people weren’t really sure if we were going to do what we said we would do. I think we have, and that has added to our credibility and helped build that relationship.”

Williams also struck a more conciliatory tone with Xavier when he was elected mayor in 2004. He makes sure Norwood enforces an ordinance limiting the number of students living in one house to four and reports problem students to Xavier. For its part, Xavier upgraded its discipline code to apply to students living off campus and informs parents of behavior problems, and campus police respond to complaints with Norwood police.

“We have had some difficulty with student housing and behavior, but Xavier worked with us and with the students, and the problems are greatly reduced,” Williams says. “By merely sitting down and talking, we’ve eliminated 99 percent of the problems.”

Rasheedah’s home-cooking restaurant features African dishes in the Muslim tradition. But it’s hard to find, sitting on Montgomery Road in the Evanston business district behind a non-descript storefront that needs paint. It’s takeout only. But the food is good, and the owner, Rasheedah Majid, has visions of expansion and improvements—to her restaurant and the block. She wishes more Xavier students would come in, but they’re hesitant to walk to this edge of campus marked by empty storefronts and loitering men. And there’s good reason for the fear. Around the time that Evanston asked Xavier for help with its school, a man was shot dead in front of Perkins Lounge two doors down. The owner shut down for several days and sought support from the business committee to help clean up the area, which suffers from the effects of encroaching poverty, including the loss of home ownership to predatory lending and an aging population.

But a scrappy group of business leaders and residents is fighting back—and tapping into Xavier’s resources for help. Xavier business students are writing business improvement plans for some businesses, including Rasheedah’s. Computer science students helped a local Methodist church create a computer center for Evanston residents. Xavier provided the spare computers. And occupational therapy students are helping the Evanston Community Council’s housing committee assess elderly residents to determine how to help them keep their homes. Xavier plans to acquire a house in Evanston to be used as a demonstration home displaying modifications for senior homeowners.

Xavier also plans to establish a down-payment assistance program to encourage faculty and staff to buy in the neighborhood. White is exploring ways to stimulate new business. And the city is making street improvements.

“We need each other to make it work,” Majid says. It’s all good news to Dave Reuve, who owns a foreign auto service business at the intersection of Dana Avenue and Montgomery Road. He helped acquire a $200,000 city grant to upgrade lighting and storefront facades along the corridor and even bought the building next door for his scooter business. He plans to stay. The only thing standing in the way, he says, is the crime issue.

“People have to perceive it being safe. Once that’s done, it’s golden.”

As the men’s basketball team makes its way onto the floor to take on Southern University, Hanrahan makes her way into the president’s box with her husband, John, and 5-year-old son, Daniel. But while her family cheers Xavier to victory, she chats with Muyaya, her new friend and veteran community organizer.

At one point, Hanrahan is greeted by Kucia, whom she’d met once before—at that first meeting on campus in 2003. He notices her sweatshirt—and smiles.

A relationship is building, but the big test is coming soon. This year Xavier rolls out its new master plan, which envisions new buildings and development along Montgomery Road. People from the neighborhoods have been included in discussions about the plans, and that’s helping change the way residents think about the University, says Muyaya. But it’s not easy for older generations with long memories.

Maybe they’ll join the partnership. Others, like her and Hanrahan, already have. “John Kucia said he didn’t think he’d ever see me in a Xavier sweatshirt, ” says Hanrahan. “Neither did I.”

John Wayne Justice

His hero is Ronald Reagan. His first vote was cast for Richard Nixon. A portrait of John Wayne, shotgun in hand, adorns his office wall. So it’s no surprise that Richard K. Jones, the newly elected sheriff of Butler County, Ohio, is grabbing headlines.

Besides, it’s hard not to notice when the cigar-stoking conservative Republican’s solution to jail overcrowding is pitching tents in the prison yard. Or when he resurrects the chain gangs of the 1950s and has his inmates dressed in green-and-white-striped jumpsuits picking up litter on public roadways. Or when he puts a sign out front welcoming illegal immigrants. “Illegal aliens are committing crimes in my county,” he says. “They need to be deported because they have broken the law to be here.”

Jones grew up in the sleepy town of Hamilton, Ohio, and has always been somewhat defiant. He went to college—including earning a master’s in criminal justice from Xavier in 1985—even though his high school counselor declared he wasn’t college material. And, at least so far, political correctness hasn’t infiltrated his career.

But he makes no apologies for his controversial ways, which have garnered him media attention from around the world. He’s appeared in newspapers, magazines and on TV and radio talk shows, mostly to discuss his novel ideas about jails, such as cutting cable and satellite television and serving a “Warden Burger”—a soy patty that is perfectly nutritious though thoroughly tasteless—to difficult inmates. He’s now considering serving two meals a day instead of three to save money.

What’s next? Who knows? But rest assured Jones won’t be shy about talking about it. “I say what I think,” he says, “and if you don’t want to know, don’t ask.”

Healing in Haiti

Haiti is one of the oldest nations in the Western Hemisphere, but it’s also the poorest. And that translates directly to the nation’s medical conditions: “Deplorable,” says Dr. Frederick Landenwitsch, a family doctor practicing in the small town of Claysville, Pa. “There is no internal medical structure.”

Landenwitsch, a 1979 graduate, became familiar with the medical conditions in Haiti about four years ago when he volunteered at a medical clinic in LaCroix, a small village near the center of the island country. The clinic has midwives and nurses but has to rely on visiting doctors a few weeks each year. After his fourth trip to the clinic, he decided to help raise money to build a residence in the village to attract a Haitian doctor and dentist.

His fundraising effort? Pedaling for money. In January, Landenwitsch and a friend bicycled from San Diego to St. Augustine, Fla. For 28 days, the pair battled headwinds, attacking dogs, flat tires—Landenwitsch had seven—and logging trucks that hugged the shoulders so close the riders practically got splinters. They bedded down in hotels along the way, but when they couldn’t find a hotel, they pitched a tent and dined on peanut butter, crackers and Milky Way bars.

Their effort, though, was worth it. In the end, their 3,000-mile journey, which they documented on their web site, www.tourdesaints.org, netted $58,000 toward the residence.

“Haiti is beautiful and sad, yet its people are full of hope, faith and life,” Landenwitsch says. “They are incredible survivors. Who would not feel privileged to help?”

Guiding the Court

If Barbara Seibel had her way, juvenile courts would take the time to learn a little about the kids they see and dig into their lives to find out the real reason they are there.

If they spent a little time doing that instead of just running them through the system, says Seibel, they could provide some real help and save a lot of money and time in the long run.

“You don’t label a child delinquent because he’s being abused at the hands of his family,” she says.

Such advice is at the heart of a new volume of guidelines written by Seibel, a 1994 Executive M.B.A. graduate who worked for the Hamilton County Juvenile Court in Cincinnati for 24 years.

Now executive director of a non-profit agency that helps at-risk high school students, Seibel continues her consulting work with the National Council of Juvenile and Family Court Judges, which advised her as she wrote the book. The book offers the courts examples of best practices. It’s the third volume she’s written for the council since 1995.

The goal, she says, is for the courts to create efficient and cost-effective systems that truly help kids and include ways to measure results. “I am one of many people who have changed how this country handles neglect and abuse,” she says. “We intend through the delinquency guidelines to change how courts handle such cases throughout the country.”

Get Out of Town

This year, students heading to other cities after graduation got some extra help with their relocation efforts from the national alumni association.

The association added to its list of benefits RELO Advantage, a relocation network that helps alumni—new or old—buy and sell their homes or find an apartment out of town.

The service is free and includes a relocation consultant, mortgage assistance, a free one-year home warranty and home inspection help. Users can even earn cash incentives based on the sale price.

For a complete list of alumni association benefits, visit www.xavier.edu/alumni.

Food for Thought

The editors of Xavier magazine receive copies of publications from other Catholic universities around the country. As a service to our readers, we compiled a list of articles on Catholicism published in those magazines that we thought might be of interest. —Editor

 

    • Who is the greatest Catholic poet of our time? An article in the spring 2006 issue of Portland magazine offers an answer that may surprise you: Bruce Springsteen.

 

    • What challenges do Catholic universities face in teaching today? What should a Catholic university’s role be in teaching doctrines of the Church? Cardinal Avery Dulles, S.J., addresses the issues in an article in the winter 2006 issue of Boston College Magazine.

 

    • Three roommates at the University of Paris began their studies hoping to change their own intellectual and spiritual horizons. They ended up changing the world. Santa Clara Magazine explores the history of Francis Xavier, Peter Faber and Ignatius of Loyola.

 

    • What is the Church’s stance on war and peace? Todd Whitmore, a theology faculty member at the University of Notre Dame, addresses the issue in the winter 2006 issue of Boston College Magazine.

 

    • What is a woman’s role in the Church? Elizabeth Johnson, a distinguished professor of theology at Fordham University, writes on the subject in the summer 2004 issue of Boston College Magazine.

 

    • Is our belief in God in our genes? Or is it a cultural concept passed along through society? The author takes a look at what’s inside us in an article in the spring 2005 issue of Notre Dame Magazine.

 

    • How do Catholic universities balance academic freedom and Catholic values? The University of Notre Dame recently struggled with that issue. An article in the spring 2006 issue of Notre Dame Magazine addresses the challenge.

 

    • What happens when an atheist physicist examines Christianity? He’s not converted, but if he did convert he’d become a Catholic. Why? The author explains in an essay in the winter 2005 issue of Notre Dame Magazine.

 

    • What leads people back to the Church after they go astray? The author of the book, It’s Not the Same Without You: Coming Home to the Catholic Church, explores the myriad reasons in an article in the spring 2004 issue of Notre Dame Magazine.

 

    • What is a nun? She’s no longer your stereotypical habit-wearing authoritarian, says the author of an article in the fall 2003 issue of Notre Dame Magazine. And she may be even more different in the future.

 

  • Where do Catholics fit into the American political realm? The subject was debated by a panel of political heavyweights at Boston College in February. Boston College Magazine reported on the debate in its spring 2006 issue.