by Fr. Julien Harvey, SJ

The Centre Justice et Foi (Center for Justice and Faith) in Montreal, where I work, decided (against my will) to create a foundation and name it after me. I left the festivities early, even if I do like a second drink, because a parishioner needed help filling out some government forms.

Most of my life in the Society was and is such shuttling between office work and pastoral work with people who didn't get the university education I did. The Old Testament's my field, a subject I taught for fifteen years while serving as pastor to skid-row friends in a rehab center.

Jesuits my age (I'm 72) recall the spirit of 1975; the Jesuits' 32d general congregation ended and Decree IV was published: "The mission of the Society of Jesus today is the service of faith, of which the promotion of justice is an absolute requirement." Those words haunted our sleep. For most of us it was a fascinating period, when small Jesuit communities formed and sometimes broke down in a matter of weeks, when liturgy was very creative (I attended Eucharists where buttered toast was offered), when a Che Guevara poster in the kitchen was a must.

I was provincial of the French Canada Province from 1974 to 1980, right at the time of Decree IV. I had the favor and the grace to be a friend of Superior General Fr. Pedro Arrupe, who offered me some advice: "Julien, after your term, you should live with ordinary people. You don't need a car or vacations abroad. You could stop smoking, join a small community . . . Your experience with migrants will help."

I asked such a Jesuit community in Montreal to invite me, which they did. The superior, a retired professor of religion, read at an evening Eucharist a text (Acts 9:26) that tells about communities afraid to receive Paul after his conversion. It was a sobering observation for a former provincial. My two friends were a former missionary to Ethiopia, then working with community groups, and another who was active in a camp for families in difficulty. They were kind to their former chief and gave me the largest room. In return, I spent the summer painting the place, scrounging old furniture, and cooking (it took me a while to realize why they enjoyed my cuisine -- they hated to cook!). In retrospect, what I did there was change a warehouse into a home. It was practical and essential work, and my friends were happy for that.

We invented a way to practice poverty, or -- the phrase Fr. Arrupe preferred when speaking about North Americans -- simplicity of life. The basis of it was two bank accounts; the first one received all our earnings, the second one received a sum from the superior that we handled together, and we never listed alcohol or cigarettes as "food"!

The daily hour and a half I spend traveling via subway to the Centre Justice et Foi is an excellent time for reading the newspaper or meditating. I work weekends as pastor in a parish and friend to residents of a retirement center. Within the parish, violence and spouse abuse has been reduced, and child abuse seems to have almost disappeared. Drugs are still there but less disastrous.

One experience I've enjoyed is getting involved with young people. I've worked for fifteen years with their committees, meeting every three weeks and going from seven in the evening till midnight. Their groups are more dedicated and realistic than most adult enterprises, except when they have financial problems -- that's when they rely on older people for solutions!

After fifteen years of a modest community experience of Decree IV, I have learned that Jesuits can live a happy community and personal life on the welfare income of the poor and can continue a professional life of study without owning all the tools required. Following Jesus is not necessarily a middle-class affair. We can enter the 21st century, with all its concentrations of powers and wealth, without anxiety.