There Was No Joy

I was at church a past Sunday, and as usual, the very young man who helps with the collection did his typical and joyful sprint after delivering the goods to the altar.  That always makes me smile.  It’s also a far cry from what I remember as a child, going to Holy Family Church in Scranton.

The biggest difference between then and now?  Back then, there was no joy.

What we had instead was a clergy that was more interested in formality, rigidity and obedience.  If “God is Love” (1 John, 4:8) then I’d be hard pressed to think that God was actually there.  Granted that I see the need for managing the audience, if you will, back when church attendance was much higher, but this went well beyond the tactics of orchestrating large groups of humans.  There was a tenable kind of feeling of obligation…of “doing it because you were told”…instead of really learning what, for example, what the Gospels could teach us about life 2000 years later. 

Had that little boy done his joyful sprinting back then, well, there would have been stern words afterwards.  Ponder that for a moment:  A small child is genuinely happy to be at church and participating…so much so that he’s literally running with joy in his footsteps.  And yet decades ago, this would have been met with disdain and likely anger.  Maybe, just maybe, had a bit of joy been universally encouraged back then, perhaps some churches wouldn’t be in the attendance pickle that seems so very pervasive these days.

I do realize, by the way, that “things were different” when I was a child.  Some of those differences were for the better then, such as the general pace of things.  Today, well I know that things move too fast for some (that’s a different post for another day), and many seem like they are being left behind in our modern world.   Some of those differences were definitely for the worse, such as how we treated the environment.  Wait…those bad old day might be coming back.  Anyway, the concept of being different is almost agnostic in that it can’t be proven to be better or worse when you look at everything combined.  Different is simply different.

I will note that I don’t go to church every Sunday.  Maybe twice a month.  It all depends. 

But when I do go, I think age has taught me lessons about priorities and what I really should be paying attention to at any given moment.  Part of that is the sense of an actual, physical community, which is something that, in our increasingly virtual world, is becoming all too infrequent.  Granted that I am not the greatest community member (that would involve interacting with humans a bit too much for me), but there is a kind of purity in having someone come up to you in church and ask you how you are doing.  And sincerely mean it, by the way.  Last but not least, I enjoy going to church with Ms. Rivers…it’s one of those “our time” kind of things.  She’s more active in things than I am, so I’d like to think that I am kind of like her chief cheerleader, consigliere, and (really not needed) bodyguard.

To end this screed, and speaking of ending things, my church growing up, Holy Family in Scranton, was torn down years ago.  I made it a point to document the demolition, a kind of monument, if you will, to things gone by.

Note sure if this is behind a paywall, but you can find an article about the church's demise HERE.

Two postings I wrote in 2011 that include additional photos can be found at:

Holy Family Church Pictures 1

Holy Family Church Pictures 2

Penn State Commonwealth Campuses Closing

Any time I write about Penn State I feel a need to explain my connection to the University.  So here goes:

I have two degrees from Penn State.  I am a life member of the Alumni Association.  I served on the Penn State Harrisburg Alumni Society board.  I helped fund a Penn State scholarship.  Penn State will be a beneficiary of my estate.  In fact, I've contributed more to Penn State over the years than I have any other organization.  

The above out of the way, Penn State is making news these days regarding decisions that will be made soon about closing some of the Commonwealth Campuses.  For the uninitiated, "Commonwealth Campuses" is the Penn State euphemism for anything outside of State College, PA. Here's the official press release from the University's President:

https://www.psu.edu/news/administration/story/message-president-bendapudi-commonwealth-campuses

Personally important to me in the announcement is the following:

"To provide clarity, I want to affirm that our seven largest Commonwealth Campuses – Abington, Altoona, Behrend, Berks, Brandywine, Harrisburg, and Lehigh Valley – along with our graduate education-focused campus at Great Valley, will remain open and we will continue to invest in them." 

All of this is tied, however, to a larger question about the very role of the Commonwealth Campuses.  To understand this, you need to first realize something about Penn State's unwritten culture, namely that the Commonwealth Campuses have, throughout their existence, been viewed as a kind of second-class citizenry within the larger world of the university.  In fact, for many inside of the State College world, their existence is barely acknowledged.  On more than one occasion, I've mentioned to someone that my bachelor's degree is from Penn State Harrisburg, which inevitably elicited the following response:  "Oh, is that one of the satellite campuses?  Where is that?  I didn't know you could get a bachelor's degree there.".  Note the "Where is that?" comment, as apparently Pennsylvania Geography isn't a popular course in State College.  

How can I say the above?  What gives me the right?

See my disclaimer, above.  I've also had this discussion with Penn State staff many times over the years.  I've shared my opinion with university leaders at every opportunity.  What I'm noting is less of an opinion and more of a fact, all be it one that some in State College (and those who "just" attended State College) would just as soon not share in public.  The Commonwealth Campuses have existed basically just as a way to funnel those not as well-heeled students to State College at the start of their junior year (a.k.a., those who were unable to gain entrance to State College for their freshman year).  At best, many simply view them as this...

...meaning that they have no identity other than being a step stool.  A kind of Penn State version of baseball’s minor leagues*, without the colorful mascots and team logos.  That's been a conscious choice on the part of Penn State leadership for decades, both at the campuses themselves as well as in State College.  Penn State Harrisburg is (apparently) surviving in part because of its separate identity outside of the State College bubble, and its reputation in South Central Pennsylvania.  That same notion of having a separate identity also applies to the Law School, Medical School and Penn College of Technology.  

I will note that the university has invested in the physical locations of many Commonwealth Campuses.  But the physical plant does nothing to change the culture of an institution, and in the world of Penn State, that culture is squarely State College-centric.  With an ever-increasing use of virtual university options, including Penn State World Campus, it's pretty clear that buildings alone are less important to the university's story.

So, is the present state, with pending closures, inevitable?

I think the answer to the above question is a solid yes and no.  

Yes, in the sense that the university may have over-extended the Commonwealth Campus system.  Some of the campuses are just too close to each other, and as noted above, the Penn State World Campus clearly now takes students out of the traditional Penn State hierarchy.  40+ years ago I don't think anyone could have seen how higher education has changed in the Unites States as a whole.

No, in the sense that the university has never really made the Commonwealth Campuses an important part of the Penn State identity, let alone part of the university experience (in essence, what it means to be a Penn Stater).  See the stepstool graphic.  And again, this has been a conscious choice.  For much of the State College leadership, everything outside of Happy Valley is a footnote of sorts to the Penn State story.  When the only important things happening are in State College, then it's not shocking that some other campuses may just fade away.

In the end, crocodile tears will be shed by those physically (and for many alumni mentally) in State College, but then they will likely cheer for the additional resources available to, in their eyes, "the real" Penn State.  For the rest of us invested in Penn State outside of the State College bubble, this will be a sad time, reinforcing a status we've all known has existed for a very long time.

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(*) I would be willing to bet my last dime that there are some Penn State graduates that have heard this news and reacted with a solid expression of "So what?".  That, more so than anything I've written in this posting, proves my point about Penn State’s unwritten culture and the Commonwealth Campuses’ place in the university’s hierarchy.