Premature Canonization

Hesburgh and King fighting for civil rights

“Premature Canonization”

A Review of Hesburgh by Nick Olszyk

MPAA Rating, NR at the time of this review

USCCB Rating, NR at the time of this review

Reel Rating, Two Reels            

            I may be one of the few American Catholics who has almost no connection whatsoever to the University of Notre Dame beyond a rejected college application – my only one – and seeing Rudy once many years ago. Thus, I knew nothing about its illustrious former president Fr. Theodore Hesburgh, which allowed me to enter this documentary on his life with a blank slate. Over the next two hours, Hesburgh taught me a great deal about this giant of the 20^th century, a real life Forrest Gump who seemed to be a key figure in all the cultural landmarks of the last seventy years. The film especially relishes in his many accolades and accomplishments in politics and society; this was a man who by the end of his life held the Guinness Book record for most honorary degrees, including both the Presidential Medal of Freedom and the Congressional Gold Medal. He was clearly a man of enormous talent and influence, and yet I could not help thinking of a warning Peter Kreeft gave in one of his speeches on public life when he mentioned “those academics who care more for the plaudits of their peers than the praise of their God.” It’s not so much what was said about the man, but what was absent, and I believe a man of Hesburgh’s integrity would be willing to accept a review not only of his great deeds but his great failures as well.

            Hesburgh begins with an examination of its subject’s childhood. Born in 1917, he grew during a rare period of American history when Catholic priests were well respected by mainstream society. He made a firm decision to enter the Holy Cross Society at age 18 and became President of Notre Dame in 1952 while still in his 30s. His single largest asset Fr. Joyce, a close friend and confidant, ran the day to day affairs of the university to free Hesburgh to pursue other interests. Starting in 1955, he was appointed to several advisory positions in the Eisenhower administration, but the documentary focuses on his work with the Civil Rights Commission. In that capacity, he protected civil liberties for minority groups under four presidents and played a key role in the Civil Rights Act of 1964. He continued to serve as an advisor in other organizations like the National Science Board and Rockefeller Foundation. He also cultivated deep friendship with cultural figures like Ann Landers, who often sought his wisdom when readers had spiritual questions.

            By fifty minutes in, I was surprised I had never heard of this great man. Surely he deserves to be mentioned in the same breath as Fulton Sheen, Teresa of Calcutta, and other giants of 20^th century Catholicism. Suddenly, the answer appeared. In 1967, Hesburgh became one of the chief architects of the infamous Land O’Lakes statement, which asserted that Catholic universities should have “instructional autonomy and academic freedom” apart from the institutional church. This event is ground zero for the gradual decline of orthodox practice on Catholic campuses. It is here where the documentary begins to show its true colors as he is universally praised for his role. Defenders of the statement claim that just a Jesus ate and talked with tax collectors, Roman occupiers, and prostitutes, so too universities should be open to multiple points of view. The distinction is that Jesus met with these people to call them to conversion and bring the gospel, not relish in their differing lifestyles. One talking head bemoans that “sadly, some [universities] today don’t follow [this model].” I was reminded of a nameless administrator at a former Catholic school who once told me she wouldn’t consider applications from Steubenville alums because they were “too extreme.”

Throughout the documentary, the filmmakers continue to insist that one of Hesburgh’s greatest strengths was to reach both sides of the political divide. Yet the crack that first appears at Land O’Lakes only continues to widen. His opinions on Vietnam focused solely on its destruction and the toll on young Americans. There is no criticism of the Communists or their virile persecution of the Church, even when a close friend is taken prisoner. Hesburgh has a fall from grace with Nixon, leading to his resignation from the Civil Rights Commission, while he enthusiastically rejoices at Obama’s election, even supporting his honorary degree from Notre Dame against the bishop of his diocese. What is even more conspicuous is the talking heads that are absent. Nothing from Paul Ryan, John Boehner, or Newt Gingrich, but Nancy Polesi shows up to pay tribute. There no journalists from National Catholic Register or EWTN, but the National Catholic Reporter makes several appearances.

The absence that is the most troubling however is that of Hesburgh himself. A former student shares a joke that made the rounds during his presidency:

“What’s the difference between God and Father Hesburgh? God is everywhere,

and Hesburgh is everywhere except Notre Dame.”

Hesburgh justifies these extracurricular activities as bringing visibility to his beloved university, but visibility to whom? He may have put Notre Dame on the map, but if that is the map this age, is that real progression? There’s little doubt that Hesburgh was a great leader and mentor. When he was present, his door was always open and more than one alum recounts how much he loved talking with students long into the night. Yet children need both quality time and quantity time, and I was left wondering if Notre Dame’s success was more due to Fr. Joyce rather than its President.

            I hope the reader won’t come away from this review thinking Hesburgh was a monster. Frequently, he demonstrated heroic virtue and extraordinary bravery. He marched at Martin Luther King’s side when many told him to leave civil rights alone. He insisted that people of faith engage directly and passionately in politics and society. When challenged by secular journalists, he defended the necessity of celibacy, Marian devotion, and the priesthood. Most importantly, he never lost sight of his vocation: the only day he did not celebrate Mass was the day he died.

            The life of Fr. Theodore Hesburgh is the life of many Catholics of his generation. A life lived with courage and holiness, yes, but also a life that was caught up in the spirit of the age. Hesburgh contributes much important information about its subject in a compelling and sophisticated manner, but it was also so incredibly one sided that it became monotonous and predictable. My hope is that Hesburgh will continue to be a source of inspiration in the future but with a more measured examination of his faults rather than a premature canonization. If I’ve learned anything about the man affectionately know as “Fr. Ted,” that’s what he would want.  

This article first appeared in Catholic World Report on May 7th, 2019.