June 10, 2005

  • From Andrew Cusack’s weblog:


    April 21, 2005

    ‘For Christ and Liberty’

    Though
    [it is] a purely Protestant institution (literally), I am rather fond of
    Patrick Henry College. Indeed, it takes some courage in this day and
    age to only admit students willing to sign a ten-point profession of
    Protestant Reformed faith. They also happen to have an old-fashioned
    ball featuring ‘English country dancing, delicacies such as cream puffs
    and truffles and leisurely strolls about the scenic grounds of the
    historic Selma Plantation’.

    Anyhow, the college, whose
    motto is ‘For Christ and Liberty’, was visited [by] Anthony Esolen, a
    contributing editor to Touchstone magazine, who makes these comments:

    Today
    I received a request to write a short article on Pope Benedict XVI from
    a club called the De Tocqueville Society, in a small college in
    Northern Virginia.

    That such a request
    came was no surprise. Its provenance is, and cheeringly so. For this De
    Tocqueville Society is made up of a group of students at the new
    Patrick Henry College, founded by Mike Farris, the President of the
    Home School Legal Defense Association. More than ninety percent of the
    college’s students were homeschooled. If there’s a Roman Catholic in
    the bunch, I’ve yet to hear about it, and I’ve been to that campus
    twice to give lectures. [Note: Esolen does not seem to be aware that
    PHC requires its students to be Protestant.]

    More on that in a moment. I
    could spend all evening singing the praises of PHC (as the students
    fondly call it), but let me share one discovery I made that should
    gratify Touchstone readers. The first time I spoke there, two years
    ago, I was stunned to meet young men and women who—who were young men
    and women. I am not stretching the truth; go to Purcellville and see it
    for yourselves if you doubt it; I believe my wife took a couple of
    pictures, just to quiet the naysayers. The young men stand tall and
    look you in the eye—they don’t skulk, they don’t scowl and squirm
    uncomfortably in the back chairs as they listen to yet another analysis
    of Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, or one of the healthier poems of Sylvia
    Plath. They’re frank and generous and respectful, but they hold their
    own in an argument, and they are eager to engage you in those. They are
    comfortable in their skins; they wear their manhood easily. And the
    young ladies are beautiful. They don’t wither away in class, far from
    it; but they wear skirts, they are modest in their voices and their
    smiles, they clearly admire the young men and are esteemed in turn;
    they are like creatures from a faraway planet, one sweeter and saner
    than ours.

    Two years ago I spoke to them
    about medieval Catholic drama. They are evangelicals, half of them
    majors in Government, the rest, majors in Liberal Arts. They kept me
    and my wife in that room for nearly three hours after the talk was
    over. “Doctor Esolen, what you say about the habits of everyday life—to
    what extent is it like what Jean Pierre de Coussade calls ‘the
    sacrament of the present moment’?” “Doctor Esolen, do you see any
    connections between the bodiliness of this drama and the theology of
    Aleksandr Schmemann?” “Doctor Esolen, you have spoken a great deal
    about our recovery of a sense of beauty, but don’t you think that
    artists can also use the grotesque as a means of bringing people to the
    truth?” “You’ve suggested to us that Christians need to reclaim the
    Renaissance as our heritage, yet we are told that that was an age of
    the worship of man for his own sake. To what extent is the art of that
    period ours to reclaim?” And on and on, until nearly midnight.

    The questions were superior to
    any that I have ever heard from a gathering of professors—and alas,
    I’ve been to many of those. I mean not only superior in their
    enthusiasm and their insistence, but in their penetrating to the heart
    of the problem, their willingness to make connections apparently far
    afield but really quite apropos, and their sheer beauty—I can think of
    no better word for it.

    A few weeks ago I was in town
    for another talk, on the resurrection of the body. The Holy Father had
    passed away. At supper, ten or fifteen of the students packed our
    table, to ask questions before the talk. They were reverent and
    extraordinarily well informed; most especially they were interested in
    the Theology of the Body. The questions on that topic continued after
    the lecture, and I had the same experience I’d had before, but now
    without the surprise.

    And these are the young people
    who are devoting an entire issue of their journal to the thought of
    Cardinal Ratzinger, now the new head of the Roman Catholic Church. They
    are hungry to know about him; in the next week or two they will do what
    our slatternly tarts and knaves, I mean our journalists, have never
    done and will not trouble themselves to do, and that is to read what
    Benedict XVI has said, read it with due appreciation for their
    differences with him, and due deference to a holy and humble man called
    by Christ to be a light not only to Roman Catholics but to all the
    nations.

    These students don’t know it,
    but in their devotion to their new school (they are themselves the
    guards, the groundskeepers, the janitors; they ‘own’ the school in a
    way that is hard to explain to outsiders), they live the community life
    extolled by Leo XIII in Rerum Novarum; in their steadfastness to the
    truth they are stalwart participators in the quest set out by John Paul
    II in Fides et Ratio; in their welcoming of me and, God bless them, of
    the good Benedict XVI, they live in the true spirit of Lumen Gentium,
    that greathearted document of the council so often invoked for the lame
    tolerance of every betrayal of the ancient faith. And for what it’s
    worth, they are readers of Touchstone Magazine.

    Be silent, Greeleys and Dowds
    of the world. These young people have you whipped, if for no other
    reason than that they believe in the One who is Truth, and who sets us
    free. How can I praise these my young brothers and sisters any more
    highly? God bless them and Patrick Henry College. And the rest of us,
    let’s keep an eye on them. We’ll be seeing quite a harvest from that
    seedbed!

    Many of the points Esolen
    commends are things I hope will be found in the colleges of my
    university when I get around to starting it. I particularly admire that
    Patrick Henry College’s young men and women are just that, according to
    Esolen. This is all too often hard to achieve in modern American higher
    education, where students are quite often just elderly adolescents.
    (Though I suspect this has more to do with parents and family than
    education).

    The absurdist drinking age that
    the Federal government underhandedly coerced each state into passing
    hinders maturity as well. Indeed, when I start the first college or
    colleges of the university I’m planning, each will have a private
    college bar which will serve anyone over the age of 16 or so. (Probably
    at the barman or barmaid’s discretion). Civil disobedience is the only
    solution.

    Though the graduates Patrick
    Henry College provides will be Protestant (at least at the time of
    their graduation), I have no doubt that they will act as leaven to
    raise up the social and political life of our United States. I’m not
    particularly fond that they proudly advertise their commendation as
    “One of America’s Top Ten Conservative Colleges”. I’m not of the view
    that colleges ought to be ‘conservative’ or ‘liberal’ per se. They
    ought to be seen more as communities of inquisitive, curious,
    intelligent people united in the quest for truth. Labels like
    ‘conservative’ and ‘liberal’ are far too narrow and allow the
    simple-minded to pidgeon-hole things which are too complex for such
    monikers.

    But anyhow, cheers for Patrick Henry College.


    Posted by Andrew Cusack at April 21, 2005 05:25 PM

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