This book tells the stories of women and men of the Aquinas Academy, a centre of adult education in Sydney founded in 1945 by an Australian Marist priest, Austin Woodbury. The book places the personal narratives within the social, cultural and intellectual landscape of Australian Catholicism spanning seven decades. Chapters trace the founding vision of the academy as a Catholic institution of higher education affiliated with Saint Thomas Aquinas's university in Rome, the expansion of programmes of adult spirituality across the eastern Australian states and the growing place of contemplative and mystical prayer in a church rediscovering its spiritual core. Combining archival research and conversations with former students and staff about childhood, war, family and the struggles to make sense of losses and loves, the Aquinas Academy is a story ultimately about adults learning to grow up.

In 1830, at the age of forty, Jean-Claude Colin accepted the call of his colleagues to take charge of the Society of Mary (Marists). He had joined this project as a seminarian in Lyons, France, in 1816, along with Marcellin Champagnat, future founder of the Marist teaching brothers. Since ordination, he had been an assistant priest at Cerdon (photo below), preached revival missions in rural districts and been principal of a high school-seminary. Colin always insisted that he was only a temporary superior until someone more capable could take over. Yet, by the time he resigned in 1854, he had obtained papal approval of the priests' branch, established the Society firmly in France, especially in education, and sent fifteen expeditions of missionary priests and brothers to the remote and scattered islands of the southwest Pacific. There they planted the Catholic Church in New Zealand, Wallis and Futuna, Tonga, Samoa, Fiji and New Caledonia. Between his resignation and his death in 1875, Colin wrote Constitutions for the priests and brothers of the Society of Mary and for the Marist sisters. He also left a rich spiritual teaching. For this achievement, the Society regards him, despite his reluctance, as its Founder.

Jadwiga Lenartowicz Rylko, known as Jadzia (Yah′-jah), was a young Polish Catholic physician in Lódz at the start of World War II. Suspected of resistance activities, she was arrested in January 1944. For the next fifteen months, she endured three Nazi concentration camps and a forty-two-day death march, spending part of this time working as a prisoner-doctor to Jewish slave laborers. A Polish Doctor in the Nazi Camps follows Jadzia from her childhood and medical training, through her wartime experiences, to her struggles to create a new life in the postwar world. Jadzia’s daughter, anthropologist Barbara Rylko-Bauer, constructs an intimate ethnography that weaves a personal family narrative against a twentieth-century historical backdrop. As Rylko-Bauer travels back in time with her mother, we learn of the particular hardships that female concentration camp prisoners faced. The struggle continued after the war as Jadzia attempted to rebuild her life, first as a refugee doctor in Germany and later as an immigrant to the United States. Like many postwar immigrants, Jadzia had high hopes of making new connections and continuing her career. Unable to surmount personal, economic, and social obstacles to medical licensure, however, she had to settle for work as a nurse’s aide. As a contribution to accounts of wartime experiences, Jadzia’s story stands out for its sensitivity to the complexities of the Polish memory of war. Built upon both historical research and conversations between mother and daughter, the story combines Jadzia’s voice and Rylko-Bauer’s own journey of rediscovering her family’s past. The result is a powerful narrative about struggle, survival, displacement, and memory, augmenting our understanding of a horrific period in human history and the struggle of Polish immigrants in its aftermath.

Internationally renowned artist Makoto Fujimura reflects on Shusaku Endo's novel Silence and grapples with the nature of art, pain and culture. Showing that light is yet present in darkness, he uncovers deep layers of meaning in Japanese history and finds connections to how faith is lived in contexts of trauma.

Three Cities after Hitler compares how three prewar German cities shared decades of postwar development under three competing post-Nazi regimes: Frankfurt in capitalist West Germany, Leipzig in communist East Germany, and Wrocław (formerly Breslau) in communist Poland. Each city was rebuilt according to two intertwined modern trends. First, certain local edifices were chosen to be resurrected as “sacred sites” to redeem the national story after Nazism. Second, these tokens of a reimagined past were staged against the hegemony of modernist architecture and planning, which wiped out much of whatever was left of the urban landscape that had survived the war. All three cities thus emerged with simplified architectural narratives, whose historically layered complexities only survived in fragments where this twofold “redemptive reconstruction” after Nazism had proven less vigorous, sometimes because local citizens took action to save and appropriate them. Transcending both the Iron Curtain and freshly homogenized nation-states, three cities under three rival regimes shared a surprisingly common history before, during, and after Hitler—in terms of both top-down planning policies and residents’ spontaneous efforts to make home out of their city as its shape shifted around them.

In 1950, when he commissioned the first edition of The Armed Forces Officer, Secretary of Defense George C. Marshall told its author, S.L.A. Marshall, that "American military officers, of whatever service, should share common ground ethically and morally." In this new edition, the authors methodically explore that common ground, reflecting on the basics of the Profession of Arms, and the officer's special place and distinctive obligations within that profession and especially to the Constitution.