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Loyola University Chicago 2024 Convocation, photography by Lukas Keapproth. Image courtesy of Loyola Lens.
Tradition and Transition
Mara Brecht
This essay addresses the ongoing significance of Dei Verbum for the practice of education at Catholic colleges and universities. In brief, I’ll attempt to answer two basic questions: What did Dei Verbum do? And what does that mean for teaching and learning? My proposal is that Dei Verbum lays the groundwork for a dialectical and personalist understanding of revelation and tradition, and this should inform the practice of teaching at Catholic higher educational institutions. However, Dei Verbum does not address the practical mechanisms that need to be rethought for today’s higher educational context. Lay faculty can build the bridge between Dei Verbum’s theology of revelation, tradition, and—by extension—mission and the practice of teaching.
Catholic Higher Education: A New Landscape
Catholic post-secondary institutions have changed significantly since Dei Verbum’s promulgation. There’s been both growth and narrowing. Many Catholic colleges and universities have expanded significantly in terms of their program offerings and the range of students they attract. At the same time, many (especially smaller) Catholic colleges have shuttered or merged with other institutions. For institutions established by religious congregations, vowed religious once formed a bulk of the faculty and sat in key leadership positions. Today, institutions may have only a few religious members sprinkled across the institution.
The changes at Catholic institutions map onto broader social and cultural changes: people are stepping away from organized religious practice toward something more diffuse, individualized, and untethered from traditions. The most recent version of Pew’s Religious Landscape study reports that 29% of American adults view themselves as religiously unaffiliated. Narrowing in on adults who are 18–29 years old—the age bracket most traditionally connected with college attendance—that number grows by more than 10 points, to 44%. Roman Catholics in the U.S. are also in decline, with only 19% of U.S. adults identifying as Catholic, down from approximately 24% in 2007. Within Roman Catholicism itself, fewer men and women are pursuing vowed religious life than ever before, and this is as true across the globe as it is in the U.S.
At the same time that religious and Catholic affiliation patterns shift, higher education is undergoing seismic shifts. Consider that in 2024, of the sixteen four-year non-profit colleges that closed as standalone institutions (which is itself a staggering figure), six of them were Catholic. Catholic higher education—like all of higher education—finds itself operating in very difficult circumstances, and at the mercy of competing imperatives. With the exception of a very few Catholic colleges and universities, schools cannot rely on a pipeline of Catholic students or even students who have an interest or investment in the Catholic tradition. (The same can be said of faculty.) Thus, Catholic schools must compete for all the same students (and faculty) as every other institution, and at the same time, must find ways to carry forward the mission of their founders meaningfully, both for the sake of that legacy and for the students who’ve enrolled.
A provisional response may be found in the common idea of teaching to mission, analyzed in conjunction with the theology of revelation brought about by Dei Verbum.
Revelation, Scripture, and Tradition in Dei Verbum
Dei Verbum begins by situating itself in line with the Council of Trent and Vatican I, so affirming that scripture and tradition form a single deposit of faith. Dei Verbum insists on unity, yes, but does not do so with the same Counter-Reformation interests that were in play at the Council of Trent. In 1520, Pope Leo X responded directly to forty-one of Martin Luther’s propositions. Luther did not retract his views and was summarily excommunicated in 1521. Twenty years later the Magisterium was still scrambling to respond to Luther and the revolutions he set into motion, which were only building steam across Europe. Pope Paul III finally succeeded at gathering a council in 1545 to address the Reformation, the Council of Trent. The popularity of Luther’s sola scriptura necessitated that the Church give an account of the relationship between scripture and tradition, and Trent settled on the position that both are authoritative and require equal affection and piety of the faithful.
Just as context and politics matter enormously for doctrinal decrees about revelation at Trent, so too do the context and political situation matter for the doctrinal decrees about revelation that formed Vatican II. Four centuries after Trent, on the eve of the Second Vatican Council, the social, religious, and political situation of the world was far different from the push-pull of the Reformation and Counter-Reformation. The Church was no longer dominated by a defensive posture, reactive to the Reformation, the Enlightenment, and the forward march of scientific inquiry. It is telling that just a few decades before Vatican Council II, Pope Pius XII’s 1943 encyclical Divino Afflante Spiritu explicitly validated historical-critical study of the Bible, a method is that grows out of Protestant approaches to scripture. The Council formerly reiterated the message of Divino Afflante Spiritu.
While maintaining that scripture and tradition are a single deposit of faith, Dei Verbum describes revelation as a personal encounter. Revelation is portrayed as God’s intimate offer of Godself to us—revelation is an event, an experience, a personal relationship, an invitation (and response) to fellowship. Revelation is made not only personal and active, but also trinitarian. Dei Verbum explains, “through Christ, the Word made flesh, man might in the Holy Spirit have access to the Father and come to share in the divine nature” (DV 2).
Dei Verbum recasts revelation as experientially prior to—or perhaps better, experientially surpassing—both scripture and tradition. Scripture and tradition are placed in dynamic relationship with each other within the broader arc of revelation: “This plan of revelation is realized by deeds and words having an inner unity: the deeds wrought by God in the history of salvation manifest and confirm the teaching and realities signified by the words, while the words proclaim the deeds and clarify the mystery contained in them” (DV 2).
Theological decrees have practical effects. Magisterial authority was strengthened by Trent’s decree on the parity between scripture and tradition. A theology of revelation that places scripture and tradition in parallel also supports the authority of tradition, and the people who carry it out. What practical outcomes were realized by Dei Verbum’s assertion that scripture and tradition are a single deposit of faith that exist in a revelatory dynamic together? At least on the surface, it would seem that this assertion would result in some diminishment to Magisterial authority. While it may be possible to make just such a historically verifiable case, the “practical” effect I’m most invested in exploring is a theological one.
Dei Verbum’s theology of revelation subtly unleashes the Holy Spirit and acknowledges the agency of the baptized in the development of tradition.
Dei Verbum upholds the Tridentine conviction that the teaching office of the Church has special authority: “But the task of authentically interpreting the word of God, whether written or handed on, has been entrusted exclusively to the living teaching office of the Church, whose authority is exercised in the name of Jesus Christ” (DV 9). At the same time, Dei Verbum calls attention to tradition’s development and growth: “This tradition which comes from the Apostles develops in the Church with the help of the Holy Spirit. For there is a growth in the understanding of the realities and the words which have been handed down” (DV 8).
Crucially, Dei Verbum offers a theology of revelation that supports—that is, undergirds as a principle—tradition’s development and growth. The tradition develops because of the way the baptized—lay and clerical in cooperation—receive and act in response to God’s self-giving offer. Dei Verbum highlights that “the entire holy people [are] united with their shepherds” in the work of living out tradition, and that “the bishops and faithful [make] a single common effort” (DV 10).
Dei Verbum sets up a relationship among scripture, tradition, and revelation that runs parallel with the relationship among charism, office, and Holy Spirit developed in Lumen Gentium, the Council’s Dogmatic Constitution on the Church. Just as the event of God’s self-communication is the deepest source of both scripture and tradition, the Holy Spirit is the origin for both charism and office. In short, the Holy Spirit is ever at work—inviting people into relation with the Father through the Son, drawing out developments in the tradition, bestowing gifts on the faithful, as well as the ordained.
Teaching to Mission, Teaching from Mission
In the wake of pervasive depletion of vowed religious among faculty and administration who are also teaching to an audience largely detached from the Catholic tradition, it is essential that mission be conveyed and communicated in other kinds of ways to other kinds of (non-Catholic and non-religious) people. Further, for mission to remain awake at Catholic colleges and universities, it must live in the centermost ventricle of the university’s heart: within the space of teaching and learning. My view is that faculty are vital.
Faculty at Catholic colleges and universities are frequently invited—and sometimes required—to account for their connection to mission. Hiring committees ask questions that are supposed to subtly find out how faculty candidates think about their future work in relation to mission. Tenure and promotion processes often include prompts for faculty to articulate where mission connects to their research, service, and teaching. Seeking approval for a new course or an academic program sometimes requires evidence of how the course or program will fulfill mission-oriented learning outcomes. Mission is embedded in the processes, operations, and policies of the institution.
To complement and ensure the success of such institutional practices and standards, colleges and universities also implement teaching centers, seminar programs, and retreat opportunities that are designed to help faculty integrate mission into their daily work. Such programs can be understood as instruments of the mission: they are designed to help faculty bring the mission to the classroom. But
frequently, such approaches to mission emphasize mission as an objective or an output, as a place to go and a thing to achieved.
(Perhaps this should come as no surprise in the contemporary, technocratic age of higher education, where the capacity to demonstrate value is the standard for activities, classes, programs, and degree themselves.)
Mission becomes a thing to teach to rather than something to teach from.
If we build on the premise of Dei Verbum, we find that mission can’t be understood as a foundation—a slate of propositions, a set of artifacts, or propositions. Mission, like revelation, is not quite quantifiable. Dei Verbum avows revelation as personalist, trinitarian, and actively extending beyond both scripture and tradition, while at the same time requiring both scripture and tradition. Following from this fundamental theology of revelation, Dei Verbum allows for a way of thinking about tradition as developing, growing, changing—in apostolic conformity, yes and always—toward the “fullness of divine truth” (DV 6). Tradition grows and develops with lay reception and response to God’s self-communication. In a parallel way, mission grows and develops with and through lay reception and response.
Teaching to mission entails teaching from mission. The very existence of mission-based faculty training programs show that leaders of Catholic colleges and universities grasp this very principle. In part, my message only reiterates what is already to assumed to be true: If faculty are going to successfully teach to mission, forming faculty in the mission is paramount. But what Dei Verbum intones about the development of tradition moves my proposal a step further, specifically toward the role that lay faculty serve in colleges and universities.
Dei Verbum provides a deep-level justification for why tradition develops, and it is simple: God’s ongoing self-communication. Dei Verbum also plants the seeds for a cooperative relationship between lay and clergy—seeds which germinate and sprout in other Vatican II documents. The upshot is that lay people can be understood as engines of development—for bringing to fullness God’s word—just as much as the ordained. Likewise, on the parallel I am developing, lay faculty can be seen as agents of development for bringing to fullness the missions of Catholic colleges and universities—not simply simulacra, like B-list actors stiffly reading a script. Institutional leaders should invest in lay faculty as such.
Clues from Congregational Renewal
The question becomes: What safeguards are there to ensure that tradition will develop in the “right” direction? The truest answer—the theological answer—is that development is fostered and guided by the Holy Spirit. While consistently espousing the Spirit’s directing role, the Second Vatican Council provides some practical, more person-centered guidance as well, and it’s from this quarry we may mine resources for lay faculty to be deepening agents of mission in the practice of education.
Dei Verbum points to three factors in how the faithful assist in tradition’s development: “This happens through the contemplation and study made by believers, who treasure these things in their hearts (see Lk 2:19, 51), through a penetrating understanding of the spiritual realities which they experience, and through the preaching of those who have received through Episcopal succession the sure gift of truth” (DV 8). “Contemplation and study” and “penetrating understanding of spiritual realities” are especially relevant for lay faculty. To fully appreciate the guidance offered here in Dei Verbum, it’s necessary to situate the document in relation to other conciliar documents, one of which is the aforementioned Lumen Gentium and the other Perfectae Caritatis.
While elevating the role of the laity in the Church, Vatican II also called for the renewal of religious life. The Decree on the Adaptation and Renewal of Religious Life, Perfectae Caritatis, directs religious congregation to revitalize themselves through two specific actions: “the constant return to the sources of all Christian life and to the original spirit of the institutes and their adaptation to the changed conditions of our time” (PC 2). Communities should be centered on the Gospel that is the source of all Christian life, and at the same time, should devote themselves to exploring their own communal stories, which define their work: “It redounds to the good of the Church that institutes have their own particular characteristics and work. Therefore let their founders’ spirit and special aims they set before them as well as their sound traditions-all of which make up the patrimony of each institute-be faithfully held in honor” (PC 2).
Dei Verbum names contemplation, study, and personal spiritual exploration (and trust in one’s own spiritual experience!) and Perfectae Caritatis identifies exploration of the community’s story, and especially the community’s founder. There’s both a parallel operative, and a possible clue about a way to further deepen—to add texture and dimension to—the faithful’s encounter with ‘the sources.’ Dei Verbum calls for the Church to return to the sources, most especially the Gospels: “the Gospels have a special preeminence, and rightly so, for they are the principal witness for the life and teaching of the incarnate Word, our savior” (PC 18). Perfectae Caritatis invites congregational renewal through return to the origin of the congregation.
For members of religious communities—as well as for lay faculty at affiliated colleges and universities, returning to the community’s origin story entails returning to the Gospel, as the founders and foundresses of religious communities were themselves responding to the call of the Gospel.
To make my proposal for higher education concrete, let me offer an example of how exploring a congregation’s deep story has been generative for my own teaching practice. For several years, I have been diving into the history of Mundelein College—the Catholic women’s college founded by the Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary (BVM) directly adjacent to Loyola University Chicago—and its “affiliation” with Loyola in 1991. Mary Frances Clarke founded the BVMs in the mid-nineteenth century and the BVMs founded Mundelein College in 1931. Their “deep story” is characterized by moving toward need with a great deal of courage (and humor), and making decisions as small groups together. With a tightly-knit group of women, Mother Clarke set up a cholera-hospital-turned-school in Dublin, then crossed the Atlantic to provide schooling for Irish immigrants in Philadelphia, and finally traveled by steamship and over land to support the Catholic mission in the fairly rough territory of Dubuque, Iowa. When the small band of sisters set out west, they had no motherhouse to return to, no home or bank to draw upon. They had only one another. Mother Clarke instilled them with trust. She nourished them through loving friendship. She encouraged them to “use their best judgement together” and dwell in their mutual dependence. Mundelein College—the only all-women’s college for Catholics in the Chicago—was also founded with a kind of pioneer spirit, by a close-knit circle of sisters who relied on one another and did so in friendship.
Fig. 1 BVMs at the entrance of Mundelein College, 1930. Loyola University Chicago Women and Leadership Archives.
“Mundelein College For Women – Chicago” postcard, 1938. Wikimedia Commons.
While Mundelein College is no longer operational, its story is embedded in Loyola’s own, and the gifts of the BVMs continue to reverberate. I’ve adopted the BVM story as a paradigm, and am using their institutional pattern to structure components of a service-learning course on Roman Catholicism that I teach here at Loyola. All students are required to complete twenty hours of service at local Roman Catholic-based service site. I urged students to do their service in the company of a classmate or classmates. When the students run into roadblocks—Which is the best bus to take to their service site? Should they follow-up by email or phone to that volunteer coordinator? How do they find the right background check form online?—I encourage them to look to each other for support and ideas. Later in the semester, when we discuss the role of women in the Church, my students will read about the BVMs and Mundelein College. I will invite them to draw connections between their service today and the long history of the sisters.
Studying the deep story of one’s college or university, as well as the deep story of the founding congregations, can be rich areas for lay faculty to collaborate intellectually together: to explore archives; to historically map; to interpret, reframe, and discover historical actors; to synthesize and connect with other bodies of research and disciplinary approaches familiar to the broader university.
Study and dialogue are the lifeblood of scholarly practice, and so should be the center of lay faculty mission-formation. Following the wisdom of Perfectae Caritatis, lay faculty should direct their energies at learning the deep story of institution and congregation, not because they are outside of it, but rather because lay faculty find themselves rightly in that story, moving forward its narrative arc. If lay faculty hesitate or doubt the imperative to take ownership of mission, they might helpfully be reminded of what it is that a mission or tradition is for in the very first place. Mission, like tradition, is practical. As explained by the great Catholic educational voice Mary C. Boys, “Traditions should offer the pattern that enables the community to recognize God’s involvement with creation.”
Dei Verbum presents a vision for lay people to be ministers of the divine word alongside ordained: “to provide the nourishment of the Scriptures for the people of God, to enlighten their minds, strengthen their wills, and set men’s hearts on fire with the love of God” (DV 23). To translate this vision within the present reality, lay faculty can be arbiters of tradition and mission, both of which are bound up in revelation. For such a vision to take shape, however, educative leaders at Catholic institutions need to get practical about the work of mission in teaching and learning.
Figure 3: Cana Conference, 1963 (in front of Coffey Hall at Mundelein College; Sister Carol Frances Jegen, BVM, third from left. Loyola University Chicago Women and Leadership Archives.
Mara Brecht
Mara Brecht is Associate Professor and Chair of the Department of Theology at Loyola University Chicago. Dr. Brecht has written Privileged Habits: Embodying Race and Faith in a Religiously Diverse World (2024), Virtue in Dialogue: Belief, Diversity, and Women’s Interreligious Encounter (2014), and co-edited Comparative Theology in the Millennial Classroom: Hybrid Identities, Negotiated Boundaries (2016) with Reid B. Locklin. She has published scholarly articles in Theological Studies, the Journal of Catholic Higher Education, Religious Education, Horizons, and more. Dr. Brecht has contributed to or led several Lilly-funded grants with the Wabash Center for Teaching and Learning in Theology and Religion, recently completed service as Vice President of the College Theology Society, and is Associate Editor of the Journal for Catholic Higher Education.
90. Pew Research Center, “2023-24 U.S. Religious Landscape Study Interactive Database” (2025), doi: 10.58094/3zs9-jc14.
91. David Luhnow, Margherita Stancati, and Jon Emont, “The Catholic Church Has a Manpower Problem: Fewer Priests Every Year,” Wall Street Journal (Sept. 22, 2025).
92. Josh Moody, “The Year in Closures and Mergers,” Inside Higher Ed (December 13, 2024).
93. John Thiel, “Dei Verbum: Scripture, Tradition, and Historical Criticism,” Horizons 47 (2020): 218.
94. Christian Washburn, “The Councils of Trent and Vatican I,” The Oxford Handbook of Catholic Theology, ed. Lewis Ayres and Medi Ann Volpe (2015), 631–633.
95. Thiel, “Dei Verbum: Scripture, Tradition, and Historical Criticism,” 218.
96. Ormond Rush, “Dei Verbum and the Roots of Synodality,” Theological Studies 84:4 (2023): 575.
97. Thiel, “Dei Verbum: Scripture, Tradition, and Historical Criticism,” 212.
98. Terrence W. Tilley, Inventing Catholic Tradition (Maryknoll NY, Orbis Books: 2000), 170–171.
99. Rush, “Dei Verbum and the Roots of Synodality,” 584.
100. I introduce the category “lay faculty” to capture faculty at Catholic colleges and universities who are actively, self-referentially members of the Roman Catholic Church in some way. “Lay faculty” does not, in my rendering, refer to all faculty who are not vowed members of a religious community or congregation. In this way, “lay faculty” is a fairly narrow category.
101. John Henry Newman’s theory of tradition is precursor to the theology that emerges in Dei Verbum. Andrew Meszaros, “‘Haec Traditio proficit’: Congar’s Reception of Newman in Dei Verbum, Section 8,” New Blackfriars, 92 (2011): 247–254.
102. The Gifts and the Call: Mission and Ministry Reflections of the Sisters of Charity, BVM, ed. Kathryn Lawlor (Dubuque, Iowa, Mount Carmel Press: 1996), 21.
103. Mary C. Boys, Educating in Faith (San Francisco, Harper and Row: 1987), 203.