Every year countless students graduate with little knowledge of what a Jesuit is or what separates Loyola from any other medium-tier, private, religious university.

In our promotional materials, we emphasize our “Rich Jesuit Tradition” and the new Jesuit Center, run by the

Rev. Si Hendry, S.J., is working to maintain our identity as a Jesuit institution.

What does that mean? In my six columns this semester, I’m going to explore the idea of Jesuit identity at a Catholic university.

I hope we can create a discussion about what sort of place Loyola is, along with what sort of place Loyola ought to be. And what we claim to be seems pretty clear, if you read our character and commitment statement online.

In section six of that commitment statement: “Loyola, as a Jesuit university, embraces the conclusion of the 32nd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus that Jesuit education must be a catalyst for needed social change; hence (is) dedicated to fostering a just social order.”

This institutional commitment to the oppressed and marginalized is why I am at a Jesuit school. Some worry that such a commitment to justice means all Jesuit students will turn into communists.

Hardly. Loyola is not calling us to a specific ideology; rather, it is calling us to a specific goal, the creation of the Kingdom of God.

Section seven continues to state that “this commitment to social justice can be shared by all,” regardless of respective college or intended career.

How we approach justice is less important than our insistence that justice must be approached in everything our university does.

So it doesn’t matter if you are a socialist or libertarian, a pacifist or an Air Force cadet. What does matter is that a commitment to peace and justice — which, for Christians, is ultimately a commitment to God — forms the basis of your life.

Jesuit education is a failure if it does not create a more just world through its students.

The Rev. Peter Hans Kolvenbach, Superior General of the Jesuits, in a speech on Jesuit higher education, asked the faculty of Jesuit schools, “Where and with whom is your heart?”

It’s a fair question for all of us, and I think Loyola turns out OK.

Student social justice work at Loyola receives more administrative support than at lot of other Jesuit schools, and countless members of our community — faculty, staff, and students — recognize that their research, their service work, and their commitment to family, are all ways to make this world a more just, more loving place.

But how many of us care about the poor here and there, or really just want the money or the fame or the power? Where and with whom are our hearts? Are they always with the poor, the marginalized, those who have gotten so little from the system that has given us so much?

I’d say we have a lot of work to do. I have specific wishes for Loyola, but more than anything else, I want our graduates to use their Jesuit-educated critical thinking to sift through their motivations, talents, and desires.

I want students to use whatever ideology or profession they’ve chosen to make our world more just, more peaceful, and more human.

We are not called to be scientists, musicians, writers, or artists.

We are first called to be “men and women with and for others” and it is only through dedicating our lives to love that we are able to find our secondary vocations — indeed, it’s the only way to find any meaning in life at all.

As Dorothy Day said, “Love is the measure.”

How do we measure Loyola?