The Catholic Education Paradox: Elitism, exclusion and social mobility

When we look at the history of Catholic education in Australia, indeed the world, its establishment emerged from a strong belief in education as a powerful way of evangelising and sowing the seeds of faith. Indeed, Catholic schools emerged in social contexts of disadvantage and hardship. Catholics were a persecuted group, and Catholic schools offered the faithful places of safe familiarity. 

Looking ahead to the contemporary Catholic school, much has changed. No longer are Catholics a persecuted minority in this country. Indeed, they face a greater threat of of being sounded out by an increasingly secularised world. Catholic schools enrol almost as many non-Catholics as Catholics, and are established as a high performing system of schools. So much so, that many Catholic schools have grown to be premier educational institutions. 

The commodification of education has, to some extent, necessitated a certain degree of pragmatism in Catholic education. Catholic schools, in order to remain viable, have to be responsive to the prevailing policy and funding conditions. However, my contention is that many Catholic schools have strayed so far from their founding traditions, they are only recognisable by the crucifixes. 

The authors of The Catholic School on the Threshold of the Third Millennium presciently stated that the contemporary Catholic school faces the challenge of avoiding the entrapment of rising secularism which reduces education to its "purely technical and practical aspects." Perhaps these "practical aspects" might refer to the ways in which many Catholic schools 'chase the dollar' in order to meet certain expectations from the elite class. The elite class desire social mobility or maintenance for their children, and many so-called elite Catholic schools provide parents with educational environments with high social capital, and with every fee paying enrolment these schools preserve the most important aspects of their reputation which serve to reinforce their public standing, both educationally and financially. The research indicates that high-SES is one among a number of strong predictors of academic performance, and therefore, a number of Catholic schools undertake a process of social class creaming in order to enrol the best students.

I provide a sample of Catholic schools, their fees and founding charism below:

School 1 (Metropolitan) - Christian Brothers 

• Fees per annum: $13152

School 2 (Metropolitan) - Society of the Sacred Heart

• Fees per annum: $15460

School 3 (Regional) - Missionaries of the Sacred Heart 

• Fees per annum: $11020

School 4 (Metropolitan) - Jesuit

• Fees per annum (Year 7 student): $22900

... and the list could go on. While I do not suggest that these schools do not achieve great things for their students while neglecting students' faith formation, I do assert that these fees not only exclude the very students for whom Catholic schools were established, but defy their founding charism.

At a recent gathering of Queensland Catholic school Principals, Dr Wayne Tinsey (Executive Director, Edmund Rice Education Australia) presented those present with some very provocative questions, which he fearlessly posed to even his own colleagues in the system of schools and colleges which he leads:

1. Is a true 'option for the poor' our priority and mission and do our cultures and practices reflect this priority?
2. Do certain traditions or parental expectations of us conflict with our embrace of a deeper 'option for the poor'?
3. Do our fee structures and enrolment policies really encourage inclusion or are we focussed on priorities that exclude us as a possibility for those who are poor?

I am quite confident that Edmund Rice, Ignatius of Loyola, St Madaleine Sophie and Fr Jules Chevalier had no intention of establishing exclusive, elite Catholic schools. Again, any superficial analyses of these Orders' founding philosophies would conclude that there is some degree of dissonance with the schools founded in their names.

It is undeniable that elite Catholic schools offer students great opportunities, but questions remain around their authentic Catholicity and the extent to which their graduates absorb the socially depletive classism which appears to be the emergent ideological basis of these students' alma mater.

Even the Statues Looked Miserable: A reflection on Catholic Mass

The Catholic Church is a church in the process of change. We know that the number of people in Australia professing any faith at all is in rapid decline, with atheists currently holding second place as the largest group in the (non-) faith stakes. Currently, approximately 11 percent of professed Catholics attend Mass, and the numbers are dwindling among young people.

Many commentators look to the rise of secularism as the reason for the increasing antipathy towards religion. However, such a view sometimes fails to acknowledge that secularism grows where the Church has become impoverished.

If the Church is to have a future in the modern world, particularly in the West, then it needs to work at engaging young people, and certainly when it comes to the celebration of the Eucharist at Mass.

As a young boy and teenager who attended Mass in the early 80s and into the mid-1990s, I was rarely consumed with a joyous celebration of God’s love at Mass. While there were regular moments of solemnity and an experience of the transcendent, I often reflected why I and those around attended Mass at all. I know that I certainly didn't have a choice in the matter as far as my parents were concerned, but that didn't make me resentful or any less reflective about my presence among my fellow parishioners.  I simply wasn't engaged, and I often drifted off to cogitate on matters relevant only to the mind of the young.

When I was focused, I tried to understand the significance of what was happening before me, and I was regularly confronted with homilies which were above me intellectually, sometimes terrifying and always leaving me with more questions than answers. One of my other keen observations was the seeming joylessness of those around me: no one smiled; noisy children were chided and silenced by parents, and teenagers yawned and restlessly endured the 60 minutes of compulsory Mass attendance. Even the statues looked miserable.

However, it wasn’t all bad. As a student of Catholic primary school, liturgy and Mass were always much more vibrant and seemed to keep the attention of even the most inattentive student. We practised hymns for the following week’s Mass, complete with hand actions and bodily gestures; we learned the prayers and responses; we made symbols which were meaningful; and we even did a liturgical dance or two. In all, my peers and I were generally engaged in what was happening, even if some of the theology was lost on us.

As an adult Catholic who attends Mass on a weekend, many of my observations remain unchanged. Indeed, I am one among very few of my own age at Mass, and I observe that fewer young people attend Mass with their parents, despite professing to have a Catholic faith. Though, I am not surprised. In many ways and in many parishes (but not all), Mass has become mentally disengaging. The proponents of a more traditional form of Catholic ritual cite liturgical correctness, theological accuracy, institutional orderliness, and conflate a silent mournfulness with solemnity. They also believe that Mass is for the virtuous alone, but often look, as Nietzsche remarked, though they are “Lent without Easter”.  They appear virtuous, but often cannot think with generosity. Priests with a more contemporary perspective on Catholic liturgy are in an invidious position created by the self-imposed Vatican police who look for any liturgical divergence, however minor, to report back to their “masters”.

The Mass is about an engagement with the Gospel, ‘radiant with the glory of Christ’s cross, [which] constantly invites us to rejoice’ as Pope Francis tells us[i]. It is an encounter with Jesus through the redeeming power of the Eucharist. And it is open to sinners; they [should] occupy the highest order in the Church – Jesus didn’t live and die for the virtuous, and He loves according to need not virtue: ‘The Eucharist is not a prize for the perfect, but a powerful medicine and nourishment for the weak’[ii]. So, the Mass should be an experience that enfolds the sinner, and enables us to engage –mentally, emotionally, spiritually – where we can experience ‘mercy freely given, where everyone can feel welcomed, loved, forgive and encouraged to live the good life of the Gospel’[iii].

Catholic schools understand this given that there is a relationship between engagement and intellectual stimulation. Good teachers develop learning materials which stimulate the mind and thereby create optimal learning conditions where students can think, explore and be creative. An observation of Mass or celebration at a Catholic school is replete with joy, colour, vibrancy, and meaningful and authentic participation, which arises from an understanding of effective ways to engage the minds of the young.

We need this approach to Catholic ritual to infect the broader Church and overcome those immunised against liturgical creativity, engagement with the senses and the outward expression of the joy which can only come through experiencing the redeeming power of the Eucharist.

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[i] Evangelii Gaudium,

[ii] Ibid

[iii] Ibid