My name is Renata Caruso, and I was born in Italy, in Rome. My academic journey began, like many good academic stories, with a fascination for languages and cultures. After completing my high school diploma in Italy, I obtained a diploma in Russian at the Institute of Culture and Russian Language in Rome. At the time, choosing Russian sometimes raised eyebrows among friends who wondered why one would voluntarily embark on a language famous for its grammar and its capacity to test the patience of even the most motivated students. Yet that decision soon proved decisive for my future path.
My interest in Russian language and culture eventually brought me to the Russian Federation, where I studied at Saint Petersburg State University. There I completed a degree in Russian language and technical translation and pursued several additional specializations in technical, commercial, and juridical translation. Living and studying in Saint Petersburg was an intellectually formative experience. It allowed me not only to deepen my linguistic competence but also to encounter directly the cultural, historical, and social complexities of Eastern Europe. It also taught me an important practical lesson: learning Russian grammar in winter is considerably easier if one has discovered the strategic importance of tea.
After returning to Italy, I continued my academic formation at Sapienza University of Rome, where I obtained a degree in Political Science. My intellectual interests gradually moved toward the historical and ecclesiastical realities of Eastern Europe and the Christian East. This development eventually led me to the Pontifical Oriental Institute in Rome; an institution closely connected with the academic world of the Pontifical Gregorian University. At the Oriental Institute I completed both the Licentiate and the Doctorate in Oriental Ecclesiastical Sciences. Today I teach Russian, Italian, and the History of Eastern Europe in particularly History of Ukraine, that means, a lot of content and ecclesial history, which is an important piece for the ecclesiastical history unfamiliar to most, there, which means that my professional life continues to revolve around languages, history, and the many fascinating complexities of the Christian East.
More specifically, my work in the field of Eastern European history increasingly integrates what one might more precisely call ecclesiastical history. This includes not only political and cultural developments, but also the history of ecclesial structures, their internal evolution, and their particular characteristics. Special attention is given to the historical processes of union with Rome among certain Eastern Slavic peoples, as well as to the parallel development of the autocephalous Orthodox Churches and their subsequent trajectories. This broader perspective allows students to understand the region not as a static historical space, but as a dynamic field of interaction between Church, culture, and society.
What has your experience been during your education and teaching in Rome ?
Teaching in Rome is a unique experience. The international character of the Gregorian institutions creates an academic environment that is both intellectually stimulating and culturally rich. In a single classroom one may find students from several continents, representing different ecclesial traditions and cultural backgrounds. This diversity often produces conversations that are as educational for the professor as for the students. It also ensures that teaching history or language rarely becomes routine. When students bring perspectives shaped by their own cultures and experiences, even familiar topics suddenly acquire new dimensions.
Another distinctive aspect of this academic environment is the educational tradition shaped by the Jesuits. Ignatian pedagogy emphasizes that university education is not merely about acquiring information. Rather, it seeks the formation of the whole person. The principle often summarized as cura personalis expresses this well: education should engage not only the intellect but also the moral sense and the personal responsibility of each student. In the spiritual tradition of Ignatius of Loyola, one often encounters the phrase: “Non coerceri a maximo, contineri tamen a minimo divinum est.” Education therefore seeks both intellectual breadth and attentive care for the concrete individual person. Closely related to this is the practice of discernment—the ability to think critically, to evaluate complex situations carefully, and to make thoughtful decisions in one’s professional and ecclesial life. As Ignatius writes in the Spiritual Exercises, “Not much knowledge fills and satisfies the soul, but the intimate understanding and savoring of the truth.” Knowledge alone is therefore not the ultimate goal; wisdom and understanding are.
Another key dimension of this tradition is the idea of the magis, the aspiration toward “the greater good.” Contrary to what the term might suggest, this is not a call to academic perfectionism or endless productivity. Instead, it is an invitation to place one’s talents at the service of others and to strive for excellence in a way that benefits the wider community. Jesuit education has often summarized this mission with the expression “men and women for others,” a phrase associated with Pedro Arrupe. In an international academic environment such as Rome, this vision becomes particularly tangible.
How do you use the education you obtained at the Gregorian University?
In my own teaching, particularly in courses on Russian language and the history of Eastern Europe, I try to communicate not only linguistic competence and historical knowledge but also a broader cultural awareness. Understanding Eastern Europe requires patience, curiosity, and occasionally a willingness to navigate complex historical narratives that rarely fit into simple categories. Students sometimes discover that learning Russian grammar and understanding the political and ecclesiastical history of Eastern Europe have something in common: both require perseverance, attention to detail, and a healthy sense of humor.
As a woman—and a laywoman—working in an academic environment that has historically been predominantly male and often clerical, I am aware that my position is somewhat distinctive. The situation occasionally presents challenges. Yet it also provides a perspective that I consider valuable. Being who I am, with my academic formation and personal experience, allows me to approach certain questions from angles that might otherwise remain less visible. I sometimes say, only half-jokingly, that in a largely clerical academic environment a laywoman specializing in Russian and Ukrainian studies can feel like a “minority within a minority.” But minorities, as historians know very well, often develop a certain resilience—and sometimes a particularly sharp analytical perspective.
This perspective is also a motivation. It encourages me to continue contributing to the formation of students who come to Rome from many parts of the world. Each year they arrive with different expectations and intellectual backgrounds, and each year they leave with new knowledge, new friendships, and often a deeper awareness of the global dimension of the Church. Many of the students who have studied with me, and more broadly at the Pontifical Oriental Institute, today hold positions of responsibility within the Church. Some have become bishops, others serve within the ecclesiastical tribunals of the Eastern Catholic Churches sui iuris, and still others have entered academic life as professors.
Perhaps more importantly, however, what unites them is not only the positions they eventually hold, but the formation they carry with them—something far less visible on a curriculum vitae, yet considerably more decisive in practice. The academic and human formation received here equips them to approach the challenges of the contemporary world with a mindset that is at once analytical, dialogical, and open to cooperation. This becomes particularly evident in regions marked by conflict, including some of the countries from which our students originate. In such contexts, one quickly discovers that intellectual brilliance alone is rarely sufficient.
What proves more enduring is the ability to combine knowledge with prudence, humanity, and a well-developed sense of responsibility. One might say—without excessive idealization—that while we certainly teach history, languages, and ecclesiastical structures, something else tends to happen almost unintentionally along the way. Over time, humanity and wisdom begin to take root, not as abstract concepts, but as a concrete style of life. This, in turn, is closely linked to the spiritual dimension of the education imparted within our institutions—an element that cannot easily be measured, but whose effects are often unmistakable.
What would you like to tell Gregorian University Foundation Supporters?
For those who generously support the mission of the Gregorian institutions through the Gregorian University Foundation, I would like to express a sincere word of gratitude. Academic institutions such as the Pontifical Oriental Institute and the Pontifical Gregorian University depend not only on the dedication of professors and students but also on the generosity of those who believe in the value of education. Every scholarship, every academic resource, and every investment in the intellectual life of these institutions contributes directly to the formation of future scholars, pastors, and leaders.
Students who study in Rome eventually return to their countries carrying much more than academic degrees. They bring with them habits of critical reflection, intercultural understanding, and the Ignatian spirit of discernment. In this sense, the work that takes place in our classrooms quietly shapes the future of the Church in many parts of the world. To participate in this mission—as a teacher, a colleague, and a member of this academic community—is both a responsibility and a privilege.
.