by Edward W. Schmidt, SJ

"Working at Company had involved meeting people and telling their stories ...
I quickly found out that meeting people was still part of my life, a big part."

Fr. Edward Schmidt, SJ, worked at Company before being appointed the provincial of the Chicago Province in September 2003. He gave his thoughts on taking over that position in Company's Fall 2003 issue. Here he continues his reflections on the role of the provincial and the things he's learned.

One day back in October, I met a friend for lunch. I was making my official visitation to the Jesuit community at Loyola Academy in Wilmette, a Chicago suburb. My friend, Les Seitzinger, who graduated from Loyola in 1988, is director of admissions there. He also coaches football, attends fund-raising events, and promotes the school at every possible occasion. Les believes in Loyola and its mission: when he promotes Loyola Academy, he embraces its Jesuit identity.

I met Les in 1997 in Spain. We were on a pilgrimage to sites associated with Ignatius Loyola, Francis Xavier, and early Jesuit history. Les and I and others had time to hang out, to swap ideas, to down a bit of cerveza, to explore the streets in Madrid and Barcelona. After we returned to Chicago, Les brought me into his family. I presided at his and Linda's wedding the next summer and at his grandfather's funeral in 2001. My visit to Loyola was a chance to renew friendship.

Back at school after lunch, Les and I were saying goodbye in the hall outside his office. A colleague walked by and Les stopped her to introduce us. "I'd like you to meet my friend Ed Schmidt. Ed is our provincial."

We said hello. We said goodbye. And as I headed back to my conferences I wondered: Our provincial? Their provincial? Les's colleague did not even blink at the title, but this was new to me! I had been on the job just a year, and I thought it encompassed only the 230 Jesuits in the province. How many thousands more should I be seeing? A whole new world was opening up!

A year and a half ago, I wrote in this column that I couldn't really answer the questions that family and friends posed to me about what the job involved. I said that I knew a provincial at least seems to be busy, is sometimes worn out, and attends a lot of meetings. I can say now that my answer does not need that word seems.

I also said that working at Company had involved meeting people and telling their stories and that I would miss this part of the work. I quickly found out that meeting people was still part of my life, a big part. One of the provincial's duties is to visit each community in the province once a year and to have a conference with each Jesuit. I had known many of these men for 40 years, but I sat in awe at their honesty and openness as they told me their deeper stories. I saw the personality sometimes hidden deep within a contradictory reputation and learned to know each man beyond my often casual and superficial perception of him. Meeting people has not been an issue, but of course telling their stories has very restricted outlets.

"Your young men will see visions, and your old men will dream dreams," the Bible tells us. Part of the amazing discovery in my job is to find 80-year-old Jesuits who still have great vision, not merely learning how to log on to their e-mail but designing web pages and formatting texts they had written long ago to fit the horizontal shape of a computer screen. Blogging and podcasting cannot be far behind.

Others whose bodies show all the signs of age or infirmity still want to do their part, to keep working, to bring God's word to God's people. Part of my struggle is to help our seniors recognize when it is time to look back, time to rest, time to let go-time to dream.

Many of our noble veterans live at our health care facility, Colombiere Center in Michigan. I visited them there in December and marveled at their ongoing desire to serve. Even with lessened energy or strength, they lead retreats and give spiritual direction; they go out to celebrate masses; they are a source of life.

Another amazing discovery came last spring when Fr. Dave Godleski, our vocation promoter, started handing me stacks of paper that were the application forms for young men wanting to enter our novitiate, taking their first steps into the Society.

"What do I do with these?" I asked.

"Read them," Dave patiently responded.

"Then what?"

"You decide if they can enter the novitiate or not."

I decide! Working through the paper, I discovered seven wonderful--amazingly different, but wonderful!--young men whom I was proud to accept into our Society of Jesus. Especially in their autobiographies, where they tell their spiritual journeys, they reveal how profoundly God's Spirit still reaches out and invites men to embrace this Jesuit ideal. This might be the best part of the job!

But the job also involves facing the conflicts that come along, the disappointments, the frustrated hopes, and the reversals that can also be part of the human journey. A young man struggles with his vocation, questions his abilities, falls in love. This is life, and we never want anything but what is right for each individual. Still, there is pain in saying goodbye, in separation. Yet I am always grateful for the time we walked this path together.

Since our novitiate is not far from the Colombiere health care center, the new men go up there to meet the old. Older and younger get along beautifully. The old men get to know the new men and their visions; the young men get taken up in the veterans' dreams. That is where I first met some of the new men in December.

I have met a lot of people other than Jesuits, of course. At a fall meeting at St. Xavier High School in Cincinnati, for example, I learned to appreciate the dedication of a high school board. Most of the board members represented several generations of Xavier students--grandfathers and fathers, sons and grandsons. Some had connections with other Jesuit schools. They all love what has been a trusted, formative experience in Jesuit education. They believe in it. They want to pass that on. And they work to do so. This dedication did not surprise me, but its depth impressed me and gave me new energy.

I have learned a lot in this year and a half as provincial. There are practical things: how to write official reports to Rome; how to read what lawyers write; how to make paper flow. After a year of conferences with most of the men in the province, I feel I know as much about pills, potions, and ailing body parts as a first-year med student. I have seen a lot of Indiana and have come to know every Speedway and GasAmerica along I-65 and I-74. And, one rainy fall evening in Lafayette, having arrived very late for a meeting the next morning, I learned that it is possible to open a beer bottle with a nail clipper. It takes time, but it can be done.

At an orientation meeting in Washington, Fr. Brad Schaeffer, SJ, the president of the Jesuit Conference, told three of us new provincials that we would be more tired than we could imagine. I have learned how right he was. Pacing, relaxing, and finding breathing room are all learned skills. I have learned to get through security lines at airports without losing patience, or at least without showing it.

It was awesome to learn how much the Jesuits respect their leaders. I do not exactly find myself acting differently-my nephews asked if there is a certain way provincials are supposed to act, a set of standards, perhaps a Provincicode. Not really, I assured them. But I know that I approach issues with a different perspective, and I realize the consequences of my observations and decisions. And there is a Rome-given Guidelines for Provincials, a noble booklet.

It was amazing also to come to know how deeply our friends and colleagues in ministry want to be with us and want to be part of what we do. And as we work on new ways to share Ignatius's vision with colleagues, I know that this rich heritage has a bright future.

I wasn't wrong when I wrote about this job back in Fall 2003. I wasn't wrong, but I was naive. I expected to have a lot of meetings, to do a lot of running around. That has proved true, more true than I had imagined. I have caught myself at O'Hare Airport trying to remember where I was going, then trying to figure out why. I expected to have to look at big issues, and with the other U.S. provincials I am now engaged in a nationwide, multi-year strategic discernment about our future. And I knew that the Jesuits along with their friends and colleagues possessed the talent and the energy to face the big issues. I guess I just was not aware of how many colleagues Les has who share his dedication and commitment. This wonderful resource is more vast than I ever imagined.

I still go up to the Company offices from time to time. I still feel at home. When the Winter 2003/04 issue came out, the first I had not worked on, I realized they were getting along fine without me. I am always interested in seeing each new issue, of course, and I pick it up knowing what went into it. And if Marty McHugh still accepts my occasional submission, I feel I still belong.