Mr. Eric Studt, SJ

I came to Munich, Germany directly after the novitiate. It is not very common for Jesuit scholastics to do the first part of their studies after the novitiate abroad, because it is generally believed that it is more important that Jesuits be formed in their own culture before going abroad and experiencing another way of Jesuit living. Jesuit formation is long but not inflexible, and exceptions are often made to meet the needs and goals of the individual Jesuit.

The first challenge I faced upon arriving in Munich was learning the language. Learning a new language means exploring new possibilities for expression: expression of ideas, expression of circumstances, expression of feelings, expression of self. At the beginning, learning a new language in an immersion environment was also an isolating and lonely process, because for a time my normal possibilities of self-expression were cut off and I was not able to communicate with those around me in any meaningful way. One of the advantages of learning a language as a Jesuit is that we have houses around the world representing practically every major language. In every one of these communities there will most probably be a Jesuit who is sensitive enough to realize the challenges of learning a new language, and who is willing to invite the newcomer to a movie or out for a beer. Such has often been the case for me in Munich.

The history of the Jesuits in Bavaria makes Munich an exceptionally rich experience for young Jesuits to study. Our church in Munich, St. Michael, was built in the second half of the 16th-century as the college church. Art historically speaking, St. Michael stands on the tipping point between the Renaissance and the Baroque. With its pure forms, large open spaces, and subtle and elegant decoration, St. Michael is an architectural masterpiece. Today, as has been the case for centuries, the Sunday “high mass” showcases the great masses of Palestrina, Victoria, Orlando di Lasso, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Gounod, and Rheinberger—sometimes with orchestra and sometimes without. There may be as many as thirty altar servers at a Sunday mass, up to six of whom swing thuribles simultaneously during the Kyrie, the Sanctus and the preparation of the gifts, adding a sense of solemnity and festivity to the celebration. Sometimes I have to get to the church an hour before mass if I wish to find a seat. Bavaria’s landscape is littered with the old colleges and churches of the Society of Jesus, a great testimony to the way in which the Jesuits have shaped the history and culture of this part of Germany.

One does not have to look all the way back to the Renaissance or the Baroque, however, to get a sense of the importance of the Society of Jesus in Germany. The 20th and 21st centuries also have had their share of great men. Alfred Delp, SJ often met in the house where I am living with other members of the resistance against the Nazi regime. Father Delp was executed for treason at Plötzensee Prison in 1945 and is one of the many martyrs of this dark period in German history. As early as the 1920s, Blessed Rupert Mayer, SJ preached fearlessly from the pulpit in St. Michael against the evils of the Nazi Party: his courage led to his arrest. Once free, he continued his protests, for which he was again arrested. People from Munich and from around the world flock to his grave in one of Munich’s churches to ask for his intercession. Father Karl Rahner, SJ, one of the most influential theologians of the 20th century, lived several years in the house where I am staying. I mention these three because I live with people who knew these giants and who tell stories not only of their greatness, but also of their quirks. I’m a great lover of anecdotes and there seem to be endlessly many in regards to these three. Father Mayer, for instance, used to get on the nerves of his Jesuit brothers when he came home late at night and started cooking, filling the community with the smell of pancakes. The fathers tell such stories at table and speak of these men as members of our family, for better or for worse.

One of the downsides of spending such a considerable time abroad is the separation from friends and family at home. My being away has been difficult both for me and for my family, especially in the last two years, since my mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer. I could not be there for her operations, her chemotherapy, and her radiation. It was in exactly this context, however, that I experienced perhaps the most moving part of my life as a Jesuit. My then formation director visited my mother before her procedures, both in the hospital and at home. He made it clear to her that, although I was far away, he and my other Jesuit brothers were there to support her. My provincial has also been supportive of me and of my mother in this time and he encourages me to visit the States whenever it seems appropriate and convenient.

Recently I was in a museum, when someone noticed my IHS lapel pin—Jesuits in Germany generally wear this pin instead of the Roman collar. This man came up to me and asked, “Sind Sie Jesuit?— Are you a Jesuit?” He immediately started raving about the Jesuit school, where he had studied, and asking after the fathers he knew there. This episode, which is not uncommon for me here, brought back to mind that I am part of this Jesuit family, that I am a part of the long history of this Order, with all its triumphs and failures.