Suchergebnisse

Issue 45.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1986. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REview ~oR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1986 by R~v~w ~oR RELiGiOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U,S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $11.00 a year; $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (postage). Airmail (Book Rate) $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVtEW FOIt RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor May/June, 1986 Volume 46 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW I~UGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J,S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW Folt RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Our Lady of Wisdom Donald Macdonald, S.M.M. ,, Father Macdonald's "The Price of Poverty" appeared in this year's January/February issue. Last May/June saw another Marian article by Father Macdonald entitled "Mary: Our Encouragement in Christ." Father's address rdmains: St. Joseph's: Welling-ton Road: Todmorden: Lancashire OLI4 5HP: England. ~ recall being kindl~, received in a convent, but the longer I stayed there the more uncomfortable I felt, because for apparently aesthetic and liturgical reasons ~there was no room in the chapel for a statue or picttire of Our Lady. It was frankly embarrassing to pass Our Lady presiding over a hymn-board ~n the corridor outside while i was free to go into the chapel without a blush. It°made no sense. One should not exaggerate the place of Our .Lady but neither should she be underrated. So, in a generally compli-mentary book-review, the reviewer remarked that while the author rightly spol~e of devotion to Our "Lady as inseparably part of Christian life he "rather overstresses the idea of Marian m'~sticism." One wonders how he knows that, since mysticism touches levels of e~perience much of which must be left unsaid. Can anyone throw a tight ring around personal expe-rience particularly at those depths? On the day his engagement was announced, G. K. Chesterton wrote the woman he was to marry that "I think it is no exaggeration to say that I never s~iw you in my life without thinking that I underrated you the time before." t This is a superb compliment for anyone to receive, especially from a mindsas rich as Chesterton's. Clearly he saw depths in the girl 321 ~122 / Review for ReligiouMs, ~Iiy-June, 1986 unseen by her butcher or dressmaker. Lo~,e, presumably,' gave him the necessary insight: Such God-gi~en insight is needed to understand anything of Our Lady in the providen.~e of God, particularly if we accept that "insight is an attempt to think in the present a. .breakthrough requiring much intellectual d~smanthng a, nd dislocationa .c.c.ompanied by a sense of surprise., genuine perception . He who thinks that we can see the same object twice has never seen. Paradoxically, insight is knowledge at first sight." 2 This is surely borne out by experience. Father Peyramale, the parish priest of Lourdes, knew more ,of the faith than Bernadette Soub~rous, just ¯ as the superiors of the novice Catherine Labour+ had a wider experience of religiouslife than did she. NO ldoubt, too, biblical scholars in the time of Th~r'ese Martin knew more al6out Scripture than she did, but who today among the contemporaries of!those three girls could claim to approach their insights into the ways of God? Can anyone quantify their subsequent influence for God and for g~od? One spoke patois, another not 9t all publicly .u.ntil shortly before she died; while the third wrote of what she knew in three note-books onl~ because she was as.ked to. Eacti of these women's lives was illumined by a vision of Our Lady who left her distinctive mark on all three, not least in their wholly sane, understated, selfless lives. What Bernadettelsaid of herself could be said of all of them including Our Lady "When 3~ou have finished with the brush you put it behind the door"--except th~at God has other plans. Their influence widens. The risk for thee c,ontempor~ry religious might be in leaving "the brush behind the door." What has been called "chronological snobbery" can obtain here to3. The insights of the latter part of the twentieth century are assumed to be superior to thos~ of peasant, country or middle-class ,y, oung women in nineteenth~entury France. Following the sam~ ~qogic, Our Lady can be dismissed as possil inevitably~limited by her lack today, and by her geographical God is present in each life. It is tliese women are to be conside ~ly a Galilean peasant girl whose insight was of formal ~ducation,~as this is understood locafion~ That assumption should be tested. this that makes the difference and by which red. Of each of the four women it could be said: "She was a woman uprig, ht, outright." "Her will was bent at God'](G. M. Hopkins, "Margaret Clither'ow" an unfinished poeo). The strengthl,.vulnerability and powerful pulse httracting them can be felt in that last monosyllabic line. There is no need of any Cultural baggage in order to sl~are what they see. Neither the water-tables feeding the wells of Nazareth n~or the politics of nineteenth-century France m.atter. Anyone in the company of these~ women may.be drawn by what Our-l_ady of Wisdom / 323 they see, glimpsing in each cage~perhaps "the Christ-ed :beauty of her mind" (G. M. Hopkins op. cir.). They travel light. The will of God is the point: "Let it be done to me according to your word" (Lk 1:38). Perhaps we cannow consider Our Lady as a reflection of the presence of God. The Gift of Wisdom It has always been difficult to speak of the presence of God not least because a finite mind is trying to express an awareness of transcendence. One biblical, tradition which attempted this was the ~Wisdom literature (includihg Job, Proverbs, Qoheleth, Ben Sira, Wisdom and some Psalms), Beginning in cultures outside Israel as basically advice to the young man Who would make his way in the world (a "Young, Upward Mobile Man's Guide to the Galaxy" perhaps), when taken into Israel it was inevitably recast through belief in the underlying presence of God as the basis of reality. So "the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom" (Ws 9:10), that is putting God first as against the practical atheism .of the person for whom '~'there is no fear of God before his eyes" (Ps 36). From this standpoint, God's presence was seen in creation, the history of Israel and in individual lives under the guise of wisdom, latterly personified'in a. female figure. God's presence as expressed in Wisdomwas to be seen everywhere:' "She herself walks about looking for those who are worthy of.her . in every thought of theirs coming to meet the~m" (Ws,6:16-17). "Wisdom is quicker to move than any motion; she is so pure, shepervades and.perrfieates_all things. She is a breath of the power of'God . untarnished mirror of God's power, image of his goodness . Herself unchanging, she makes all things new" (Ws 7:24-27). "l resolved to have her as my bride, I fell in love with her beauty" (Ws 8:2). "My counselor in prosperity, my comfort in care and sorrow. I love those who love me; those who seek me,eagerly shall find me" (Ws~9:17). Slowly to reflect on those lines is to glimpse the intimacy and reality of God's presence in a sacramental world. Such insight is a personal possession. They know of whatthey speak. So in the creation of the universe by God: "I was by his side, a master ~craftsman delighting him day by day, ever at play in his presence, at play everywhere in his world, delighting to be with the sons of men" (Ws 8:30-31). Such a universe, then, is no alien, monolithic force hostile to mankind but a place in which God is present, delighting to be with his creation. Experiencing life in this way, God's presence is seen as delightful, as life now obviously has meaning since it is underwritten by God. "I came forth from the mouth of the Most .High and I covered the earth like mist . Then the creator of all things instructed me . He said, 'Pitch your tent in Jacob'. I have breathed out a scent like choice myrrh. I am like a 324 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 vine putting out graceful shoots. ApprOach me you who desire me, and take your fill of my fruits, for memories of me are sweeter than honey, inheriting me is sweeter than the honeycomb. They who eat me will hunger for more., they who drink me will thirst for more. Whoever listens to me will never have to blush, whoever acts as I dictate will never sin" (Si 24:38, 13, :17, 19-30). Again, such reflection on life in the light of faith findsGod's presence everywhere awesome and mysterious, yet beautifully attractive. As the figure of Wisdom is now personified it might be dismissed as yet another imperfect image, a crutch to lean on when looking for God's presence in the mystifying world. But surely there is no need nor is it intended to imagine anything at all. This is no television commercial with a female figure ,cavorting across the screen advertising some product. The insight given by Wisdom and remember, following Abraham Heschel, that insight is to see for the first time--is so much richer and nuanced and is to be understood on another plane: Insight not eyesight, and imagination is wanted now, to see beyond and above the imagery. The gift of Wisdom is meant to give just this taste for and insight into the presence of God in every aspect of reality. God is there in every moment eager to make his presence known. Having "pitched" his tent among us, his presence is such that once tasted one can only "hunger for more." Obviously:for the Christian this. speaks of Christ in every line, particu. larly as Paul and John present him, but, traditionally this was seen too in the person of Our Lady of Wisdom. Such Wisdom writings were to be found in the liturgy of her feasts. The personified figure of Wisdom was seen in'her, and as expressed in the liturgy, the faithful were invited to delight in her as a. supreme expression of God's presence among us. Cen-turies of meditation on the Wisdom writings instinctively suggested Our Lady. It was a delightful, pleasant, accessible world combining the world of transcendence with the encouraging familiarity of a faithful mother. God's presence as reflected in her indicated that potentially there were no heights we could not scale even though our insight was at best imperfect. It was a lovely atmosphere she brought with her as she was seen among us as one of us, rejoicing in God her Savior (Lk 1:47), and we with her. Few would deny that that is less so now. The atmosphere has changed. In Catholic liturgical, literary and devotional life the lovely, wondering, ever reiidy to be surprised insight of an earlier time seems to have been replaced by the prim, puritan regimentation of an old-fashioned school-room. Instead of an ever-deepening insight needing all the resources of Wisdom literature to try and express what was felt and experienced, today one has the impression that not afew of our pastors, teachers and cate- Our Lady of Wisdom / 325 chists who occupy the commanding heights and lower slopes of everyday teaching in the Church, have seen Mary once--and seen her "plain." They might have come ashore from The Mayflower yesterday. The approach to Our Lady today reeks of the catechical-center and schoolroom. It is all reminiscent of a certain type of teacher so accurately sketched by Charles Dickens, who asked a girl who had spent her young life with horses and knew and loved them, to describe one. She was incapable of coming up with the only answer he would accept: "Quadruped. Gramini-vorous. Forty teeth~ namely twenty-four grinders, four eyeteeth, and twelve incisive. Sheds coat in the spring . Hoofs hard, but requiring to be shod with iron. Age known by marks' in mouth. Thus (and much more).''~ How many of those who flock each year to the Kentucky Derby would recog-nize that either? Though the teacher is perhaps overdrawn, it does not mean that the point is overplayed. The issue was real and perhaps still is. To present Our Lady chiefly in terms of Model Christian or Model of Believers is not wrong but deadens a relationship. To speak of anyone in such categories isolates them from the rest' of us. Models automatically distance themselves. They are to be looked up to, rarely made part of oneself. To speak principally of Our Lady in such terms is to put her on a pedestal in a most damaging way: apart from, static, of yesterday rather than today; whereas traditionally within the Catholic community she was of God and of us, truly a present inspiration as we delighted in her com-pany. So Mary, Model of the Church, while true, is of the classroom not of life. It is, too, not unfair to remark that when she is spoken of as "Woman of~Faith" or "Model of Believers," this carries strong overtones of the contemporary defeatism wherein faith, before it can~be reckoned as authentic, is laced with a strong solution of doubt. None really sees, so the best that can be done is to pool. insecurities, as even the best of us are in the dark. Our Lady, by association, is correspondingly diminished. Yet faith in biblical terms was never the vague hope that Someone might be there to make sense of life in an at times frighteningly puzzling world. Rather was it the bedrock assurance that God is there and we are real to him, even though often unfelt and unknown by us. Trust, therefore, is at the heart of the biblical reality, and on this the Jewish and Christian communities were built. The best of both communities enfleshed it. Our Lady too embodied the prophetic vocation, helping us in the task .of realizing that ~we live in the universe of His [God's] knowing, in the glory of attachment" (Jr 1:5).~ So the community enjoyed her company, welcomed her and delighted to hear anyone speak well of her. She could appeal to anyone, whether from the cachot of Bernadette, the countryside ~126 / ReviewJ'or Religious, May-June, 1986 of Catherine, :or the middle-class household of Th6r~se. Today the colors are subdued, a pale reflection of what they once were. The use of the 'W, isdom writings to express what was felt about her has given way to such warmth as there is to a winter's sunlight. Now she is almost exclusively spoken of as "Mary," and one cannot help feeling that much has been lost in the contemporary would-be organized Church that was freely available to everyone in an earlier, possibly more untidy home. The wonder of insight is missing. ~.It is, of course, explained that one owes it to non,Catholics to be careful in the way we speak of/to her. This is true. Yet it should be recognized that there are real differences between .us both in faith and atmosphere, stemming from faith as a way of life not an academic code. The ethos of the evangelical Protestant, for example, is not easily expressed in terms of Greek Orthodoxy's devotional life. Both are valid traditions, but they are undeniably different. Yet if one has the good fortune of belonging to The Ecumenical Society of.the Blessed Virgin Mary it may prove a revelation to see and hear how easily Christians of every denomi-nation speak of her. I, too, very much value the invitation given me some years ago to belong to the Methodist Preachers' Fellowship, and find within its integrity, respect and support that it is possible to speak of Our Lady. (The Methodist Neville Ward, it will be remembered, wrote in Five for Sorrow, Ten for Joy, a very fine book on the rosary). It is "megaphor~e diplomacy"---publicly shouting at one another--tliat is to be feared, not in expressing how one genuinely bdieves and lives within a context of respect and understanding: I wasat a Protestant school until I was twelve and have,the highest regard .for what I was taught there, The local minister would drive us in his car to Mass, unasked, on really_wet wintry Sundays--and he later became moderator of the Church of Scot-land. So perhaps I may claim first-hand experience of the Protestant ethos and .am far from unsympathetic to it. It is a strange paradox.that while the eighth chapter of Lumen Gentium and the later Marialis Cultus, to say nothing of the present Holy Father, express a recognizably Catholic feeling and continuity, so unlike much of current teaching and. devotional life, somehow there has been a break from what once was, and the person of Our Lady has been almost lost in the concept. To see Our Lady then reflected in the feminine figure of Wisdom is to see in her a transparent reflection of the transcendence and immanence of God's presence, She is n6where and she is everywhere. This may puzzle some who consider in so broadening her significance that it may somehow Our Lady of Wisdom / 327 lessen her value in the'community. This might be so if she is seen as just. one specific piece on the chessboard, somehow .to be welded into aft'overall strategy. But the reality of theoChurch, of course, is of a community created and indwelt by the Spirit of the living God. It is a living organism in which we each relate to'one another in 12hrist through grace-enlightened knowl-edge and love. Our Lady; supremely orie with the will of God, is therefore an influential channel of ttiat life: "And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the babe leaped .in her womb; and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy. Spirit" (Ek 1:41). Seen in this light; therefore, coming from the heart of the Christian community, she is never an inquisitive aunt, obtrusive neighbor nor cling-ing friend. Nor is she a static figure with. her own particular niche in the wall, to be referred to now and agai'n. As th6 lovely feminine figure of Wisdom Owing more to insight than eyesight or imagination is lost in the wonder of what she suggests, so too Our Lady. Sowhen G. M. Hopkins in a well-known poem comparing her to the air we breathe, spoke to her as, World-mothering air. a'ir wild . Fold home. fast hold th3~i'child. he is talking of life and limitless freedor~ not limitation. He is not-advocat-ing a stranglehold distancing one from God, caught up in Mary's apron strings in'a state of permanent adolescence. Rather does she, as ~lid Wis-dom, mediate the presence of God that perhaps has to be experienced to be understood. The traditional prayer, "Virgo respice, Mater, adspice, audi nos, O Maria. " perhaps.puts it at its simplest. One scarcely needs a translation to feel that prayer convincingly suggesting on her part atten-tion, anticipation, concern, fellow feeling, x+hich, while relishing her company, is at the same time an act of faiih in the underlying reality that "He who is mighty has done great things for me. and holy is his name"(Lk 1:49). Gift of The Spirit Perhaps the °point may~be further underlined by considering God's presence as expressed in the experience of Spirit,, A thesaurus could find many words to 'express it life, breath, wind describing an intangible reaiity. As an expression-of God's presence it indicates that it can be experienced everywhere but never held. The Spirit of God brought this universe into being, and the: same creative Spirit was responsible for the existence of the community of Israel, inspiring within it particular individ-uals to, perceive the presence and guidance of God~ So "God would speak with Moses face to face, as a man ~peaks to his 'friend" (Ex 33:11). As a result of this intimacy he was instrumental in helping to build the commun- ~121~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 ity. Similarly, on receiving the prophetic spirit, "Elijah arose like a fire his word flaming like a torch" (Si.48:1), empowering.,him almost single-handed to hold ca'fly Israel together against colossal! odds. This influence of the Spirit of God suggests that a man is taken out of himself, often despite himself. As Amos, probably the first of the writing prophets, put it: "The lion roars: who can help feeling afraid? The Lord God, speaks: who can refuse to prophesy?" (Am 3:8). Enlightened by the Spirit of God .withinthe community of Israel, such people were given such insightSnto their own age that in the name of God they felt compelled to speak and act. The eyesight of most of their contemporaries was blind to what their God-given insight enabled them to see in a world illumined by~ God's spirit. As the Spirit of God dwelt within the heart-,of Israel so no less emphati-cally says St.~-Paul. was the Spirit present within the Christian cgmmunity. As God was present in the Holy of Holies of the Jerusalem temple so Paul tried to open the eyes of the Corinthians to the° wonder of his presence among .them: "Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you. God's temple is holy, and that temple you are" (1 Co 3:16-17). God present among s~uch people individually and collectively points the wonder of it all in view of who they we?e: "not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful., of noble birth" (I Co 1:26). Nondescript, marginal people for ~he most part--as was said of the unfortunate boxer. '~not even a household name in his own house'--God evidently "chose what is foolish . . . weak . . . low and despised" (I Co 27-28). Enlightened by the wisdom and Spirit of God as a member of that community, Paul does not apologize for its surface crudi-ties as his insight enables him to see within to the Spirit's indwelling presence. It is a creation of God, and like all his gifts "can only be under-stood by means of the Spirit" (1 Co 2:14). Reflecting long and often as he must have done on what was being created in and around himself, Paul comes to see that "the Spirit reaches the depths of everything, even the depths of God . . . Now. " . fie have received the Spirit that comes from God, to teach us to understand the gifts that he has given us" (1 Co 2:10-12). This is a phenomenal insight as Paul wrestles with the almost inexplicable to aid the Corinthians' self-under-standing. Their lives are radically touched and empowered by God, mo~Jing from the depths of his Spirit to theirs. Meaning little to others in view of their lack of status, they mean everything to God. And it was this same Spirit. which enabled Paul never to be quite beaten by the constant bread and butter inconsistencies, and. to see the reality beneath._ It is all, Paul reflects,, ~eminiscent of the wisdom of God which so often seems to stand logic on its head. lts linchpin is the crucified and risen Christ "whom God Our Lady of Wisdom / 329 made our wisdom" (1 Co 1:30) in the face of a disbelieving world. Such insight~does not come from the schoolroom or marketplace. It is a gift from God enabling "those'who are called. [to see] Christ thepbwer of God and the~visdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than men" (I Co 1:24-25). This same pattern is true of Our Lady. She is to be understood ihen from within the community. An ostensibly nondescript person from unre-markable Nazareth if one considers the circumstances of her calling, yet the inner reality can only be gauged insofar as one is given to see what is meant when "The Holy Spirit will come upon 'you, and the power of the Most Highs:will 6ve'rshadow you" (Lk 1:35-36). The creative spirit of God which once brought this universe'into existence, now through her willing co6per-ation (see Lk'l:38), brings to birth a new creation in her Son. Such is the effect of the Spirit's power and presence that "the child to b~ born will be called holy, the Son of God" (Lk 1:35). This is the defining feature of her life: Mother and Son are inseparably linked. One with him at birth, home and crucifixion, she is found within the early Christian community pray-ing. So it has been for centuries as she ~is seen among us preeminently lovable and faithful, empowered by wisdom and the Spirit. The Christian community has responded accordingly, as in every nation under heaven all generations have called her blessed (see Lk 1:48). Today in much contemporary .teaching and practice, the brush appears to have been put back behind the door. It is not without significance that this has happened at a time when the values of the numinous, transcend-ence, silence and worship are under severe pressure. Mainstream liturgy, teaching and devotion have virtually nothing to say of the contemplative. Such a need is fostered from the edge, not the center. When influential numbers of our pastors, teachers and opinion-formers generally, seem to lack any obvious feeling for the contemplative, it may beno surprise that they display or encourage little warmth for Our Lady, Seat of Wisdom. ~Vhen meaning has to be on the surface and immediately comprehended, it is perhaps inevitable that so rich and varied traditions of the Church, not least as regards Our Lady, have given way to a subdued monochrome world. : Let Your Gaze Become My Prayer Perhaps all of this may be finally summarized in a few lines from a prayer of St. Anselmto St. John the Evangelist, asking for the love of God: "Ifthen, sir, your gaze has more good in it than my prayer has devotion, let your gaze become my prayer."5 This is a very fine expression of the role of Our Lady, the saints and our fellow-Christians in the Church, one person 331~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 in Christ. with ourselves (see Ga. 3:25-28). The individual Anselm asks the aid of the evangelist .John, whom he sees in faith to be now wholly caught up in G6d:.So he asks th~it his own self in his prayer be taken up into sharing what St, John sees. °He speaks to John but looks beyond him following the evangelist's gaze. Love has been described as two people looking in the same direction. What they see draws them togetherenabling them to live as one in a new reality. This we have here. Anselm's prayer is felt to be inferior to John's vision so he asks that "your gaze become my prayer." This, inthe main, is what is meant by Our Lady's patronage. Filled from her conception with the ~,isdom and Spirit of God in vieW of her voc~ition as Mother of God, her whole being reflects the Orie who has mad~ her who she is as she rejoices in God her Savior (see Lk 1:47)i One person in Christ with her, the Christian; and anyone genuinely.asking her he!.p._;'_w.a.n._t.s_t_.o~be taken into her being and held by what she sees "Let your gaze become my prayer." So easy to relate to, inviting, the individual to come in his or her own way, her life is givenomeaning by her Unflinching attachment to the will of God in good days and bad. Such a person is no obstacle between us and God if her gaze becomes our prayer, as the words and images drop away before the holiness of God. One can, of course, with the apophatic tradition, which maintains that it is impossible to say anything of God other than that he is, try to put everything that is not God into a "cloud .of forgetting" leaving only a naked intent for God. So our Lord, sacraments, Our Lady, Scripture, saints--:-~ everything must go. "If you see the Buddha kill him." Well yes, but even the Engiish mystic who expressed this so supremely well, giving as the bottom line between oneself and God, "Worship God with all you have got. All-that- you-are-as,you-are worshipping ail-that-he-is-as-he-is," has his reality first defined in Christ, and must recognize therefore that "it is God for his own loving purpose who puts both. the will and the action into you" (Ph 2:13):6 Whether he adverts to it or not, the ontological reality underpinning his:every movement and prayer is Christ in whom "all things were created. :. He isb(fore all things and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the Church,' (Col. 1:16-18). Reality is thus held in the overarching Christ who reconciled us to God by "making peace by the blood of his cross., by his death" (Col 1:20-22): Blood and death together are irrevocable, costly and messy (so much so that the sensitivities of the Jerusalem Bible translators cause them to omit "blobd"), ~butit was precisely in Christ's crucifixion and resurrection that he can now "present you holy and blameless and irreproachable before him [God]"(Col 1:22)? We are unforgettably marked with the sign of the cross, In Christ, therefore, is found 'the very oxygen enabling us to breathe the air Our Lady of Wisdom/~ 331 of God. One admires the climber attempting Everest, but one knows that he could not set foot on the lower slopes, far less reach the summit without-oxygen. It is never seen but it is always there, and in Christ we are sup-ported by a whole ~loud of ~vitnesses, prophets, apostles, saints among whom is preeminently the Mother of God. They interact with us in Christ in every moment of every day whether we are conscious of it or not. There is no need of mental images of Paul, Our Lady, or even Christ himself. Attachment to Our Lady in this context should not be seefi as a limiting form of prayer. To see her so is possibly to have a fixed, static view of Christian reality not unlike the wooden, materialist outlook of popular nineteenth-century science. The truth of science as glimpsed today is so wonderful and mobil~ that much of it cannot even be imagined, yet its beauty clearly enthralls many, light years away from the earlier approach. Immaturity ~s the problem. We are, for the most part, too pedestrian. But in this lies our salvation. Everyone in Christ is for us. It may be a sign of the times that in an .age full of self-assertion we find it hard to believe that anyone can be self-effacing. But the GOspel reality is just that, "For all things are yours." whether Paul, Bernadette, Catherine, Th~rEse or Mary, "or the world or life or death or the present or the future, all are yours; and you are Christ's; and Christ is God's" (1 Co 3:21-23). We are, perhaps most of us, infants in Christ, with at best an.imperfect, grasp of God loving us i.n Christ, unable without wisdom and the Spirit to see the simplicity of ,Paul's insight, holding all of reality in the present moment in-Christ. But we know the claim that the child has on Christ. And in this above all, surely he is at one with his mother. NOTES tMaisie Ward, Return to Chesterton, Sheed and Ward, 1952, p. 34. 2A. Heschel, The Prophets Vol. 1, Harper and Row, 1971, p.x6. 3C. Dickens, Hard Times, Chap. 2. 4A. Heschel, op. cit. Vol. 2, p. 267. 5B. Ward, The Prayqrs and Meditations of St. Anselrn--Pfayer to St. John the Evan- 'gelist (2), Penguin, 1975. ~ 6C. Woltors, The Cloud of Unknowing and Other Works and The Epistle of Privy Counsel, chap. 4, Penguin, 1978 . 7C. A. Anderson Scott's plausible observation with regard to St. Paul in general is instructive: "The allusion to the blood of Christ, here (Rm 3:25) as in other passages~in Paul, is probably connected with.the overwhelming impression which Paul had received as a spectator of the Crucifixion." Footnotes to St'. Paul (CUP, 1935): Personality, and Religious Adjustments in Older Candidates Matthias Neuman, OS.B. Father Neuman, well known to our readers, whose latest contribution, "The Holiness of Saint Francis: Spiritual Vision and' Lived Suffering,, ~appeared in the issue of September/October, 1985, contin'u6s to teach at Saint Meinrad Seminary; Saint Mein-rad, lndiana :47577. For the past four years my primary occupation has involved directing the pre,theology program in our s.,eminary. This special year-long program ffims to prepare a certai:n group of young men for entrance into a regular course of theological studies for priesthood. These are candidates who already possess their college degrees but who have had no course work in philosophy or theology--or any exposure to a regular spiritual formation program, The very existence of college-graduate or pre-theology years in seminaries bears witness to a significant shift in recent vocational patterns. Fifteen years ago my first-year theology course would have had one or two "older" individuals; they were routinely mixed in with the students who had graduated from various college seminaries. In a decade and a half those one or two have swollen to better than half the first-year classes in many theologates around the United States. This means that a significant portion of today's priesthood candidates are waiting to "test" their possible ~voca-tions until after the college years and after some significant work and societal experience, A similar phenomenon appears among applicants for religious orders of women and men. Almost any meeting of formation personnel deals with some issue or problem concerning "older vocations." Indeed it is not uncommon for a formatiOn directress to be younger than several, of her charges. 332 Adjustments in Older Candidales / 333 While many observers applaud this shift in vocational process, and both priestly and religious recruiters have begun to plot ways of casting their nets in these newly-discover6d waters, the formidable challenges of providing a solid and effective regimen of formation should not be glosse~l over quickly. These men and women come to seminaries and religious houses at a considerably different stage in life than do graduates right out of high school or college. It will not suffice to merel~ ~transfer previous spiritual, academic and social formational methods to ~this new wave, for they bring quite different problematics for spiritual formation, academic programs and general adjustment to religious institutional life. The first year of formation in particular needs to pay.close attention to: l) the backgrounds of these people, 2) the life transitions they are experiencing, and 3) the adjustment problems they will most likely encounter. The first three sections of this article ~ill address these topics in more detail,~and the concluding section will offer some suggestions for helping the candidates themselves to manage this initial transition period more effectively. Backgrounds The ages of these older vocations may range from the mid-twenties to the mid-seventies. (Several were even ordained irf their 80s!) However the bulk of such callings has been in the 25-45 age bracket and I will focus most of my comments on that group. *~- ' 0 Perhaps the first major item format.ion personnel should~-~recognize is that these people-~'even at age twenty-five generally possess a somewhat. solidified personality structure. This doesn't necessarily imply that their personality structures are well-shaped oreven healthy, but simply that they have been hardened to an extent by the pressures of work, societal survival and recreational interactions. Educational research has tended to show that the first two years after college exert, a significant hardening, and even. a temporary halt, to attitudinal and conceptual growth. This can be seen as a natural result of mov~ngfrom the more fluid world of college into a societal context where work-pressures demand a~more fixed cast to one's goals, plans and attitudes. Thus, these individuals differ from the far more malleable candidates trained in the seminary or academy systems of years past. Even though they are obviously considering a major career shift by investigating a priest-ly or religious calling, they usually retain a good deal of .their solidified personality structure. They may not-even be aware of how habitual they have become in. patterns 9f relationship, daily routines and general atti-tudes. Those who have lived alone for even two or three years have devel-oped private habits of socializing and personal recreation which mayclash 3~14 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 strongly with the regular demands of community living. These st~rongly formed !ife-patterns also emerge in the realm of spiritu-ality,. It is not unusual for these men and women to have already expe-rienced in a variety of ways a verY powerful presence of Godin their lives, a Eresence that has been both sustaining and nourishing, a divine presence that has been greatly responsible for calling them to a switch of life-tasks. Many older candidates attest to some kind of "conversion experience" that brought them to this new way .of life even if they had been "possibly considering it." for years. This conversion experience and presen~c.e of God usually has shaped.their personal .spiritualities to a great extent. In particu-lar, the styl~es o.f prayer they favor are generally associated.with the qualities of that particular presence of God, e.g., God in nature~and an individual mystical prayer, God° in a conversion from sinfulness and a prayer of penance, God in~ .familial tradition and a structured devotional prayer. Without. being reflectively aware of it,osuch reasong have usually con-jured up an image of either priesthood or religious life that is primarily an intensification of their personal spirituality. (For example, one young man, age 30, who was converted by his reading of the New Testament~defined the primary task of the priest as teaching the Bible to people.) A formation direct_or may find these candidates to have imperceptibly meshed together~a particular style of prayer, a favored presence of God, and an implicit image of priesthood or religious life. The tight interweaving, of these factors .can cause average to severe problems in the adjustment to a formation pro-gram; the tampering with one item (e.g., teaching different prayer styles or a v.ariant image of religious life) may be perceived by candidates as a threat to the spiritual background and religious experience that gave them their new spiritual impulse. Perhaps the most-common example of the above dynamic occurs in trying to instill a sense of the value and importance of common prayer. Few of my priesthood candidates come with much appreciation or experience of the Liturgy of the Hours. Living as individuals in society, they have usually forged strong patterns of private prayer. Introducing them into the common morning and evening prayer of the semin.a.ry occasions a crisis for some each year. Common prayer does not,meet their "personal needS"; it co~mpetes with private prayer; their former sense of closeness to God gets worn away. Some begin to feel very hostile toward the seminary for ruining their intimacy ,with God:and thus threatening their vocation. It will have to be a sensitive formation program that can "deconstruct" a. person's reli-gious background, i.e. break it into its compon.ent parts, so that the indi-vidual may assimilate'in a healthy~way.the spiritual components of a sound priestly, or religious-order spirituality. Adjustments in Older Candidates 335 People who have worked for even a few years at a competitive job in the societal labor force will accumulate some, highly fixed patterns of routine daily life. The schedule of most jobs mandates some regularity. Daily and weekly habits of work, r~creation and friendships give rise to a network of personal supports that soften the challenges of life. These supports, or "strokes" in the recent psychological lingo~ help to carry a person°through ~the down times of regtilar living. Similarly persons who in an-intefise occupational setting, such as a social case worker, personnel rfianag~r or teacher, may have silently linked part of their adult identity to these supports. - One of the standard planks for a personal identity is the positive affir-mation we receive from the,. significant individuals in our lives (family, friends, mrntors, students).We call on this affirmation regularly~if the pressures ~of our job consistently erode bur well-being and identity. The entranize into a seminary or religious house removes persons from both the comforts of their habitual routines and the necessary strokes of signifi-cant others. This abse~ce may give rise'to a profound gense of loneliness or even abandonment. Perirds of confusion and depression soon compliote matters even more. An insightful formation program needs to be con-stantly alert to these possibilities, and d~velop ways of ?egularly informing and assisting candidates to understand and' process these and similar experiences. A report from a meeting of Midwest seminary rectors in 1981 summa~i"- ized nicely a g,bbd numbef of additional background issues which these priestly candidates bring to the seminary (and religious life). ,. Experience indicates that the can~didate who has made applicatipn for theology school without previous seminary experience possesses all or some of tile following characteristics: he has little or~' no experiefice, in community living; he has not had or.has had little experience of spiritual direction and is concerned about his ability to use the direction offered him; he perceives' himself as very much an outsider in the seminary com-munity; he is unfamiliar with the special language employed both in the professional life of the seminary, e.g., academics and liturgical practice, as well as commufiity living experiences; often he is a man of practical expe-rience. with varying ability to deal with issues on a speculative level; if he is older, he might well have an exaggerated sense of his age; he is more conservative in his spirituality particularly if a recent "conversion expe-rience" has led him to ~hear the call to priesthood; he has high anxiety conceriaing the de~cision which he has recently made to enter the seminary.1 Although much more could be said about background, I will limit my observations to the preceding comments. Formation personnel should 356 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 remember that these older candidates may be more mature and worldly-wise than ~th0se fresh .o~ut of college: but they bring their ~unique bevy of problems with them. Many of these difficulties are frequently connected to a hardened personal and religi6us identity and the unconscious manner in which various factors get meshed (e.g., prayer style, validity of conversion, and expectations). Frequently these problems boil to the surface when candidates get fitted into the regulated worlds of the ~eminary or religious community. (NB. Seminaries and religious houses may ~be psychologically highly regulated even without minute daily schedules. Long periods of the day may be free and unstructured, but those hours are also 7"filled" .with pow.erful academic, ministerial and spiritual expectations. Such a day is regulat.ed not by schedule but by official expectation.) None of the above.problems should be considered insoluble. In my experience the great majority of candidates can successfully negotiate these personal and religious challenges. But the formation program as such needs to positively assist.,these men and women to identify accurately what is happening in their lives. These transitional adjustments are not usually vocational crises, and sudden hostility toward the seminary, religious community or individual superior is not always a problem with authority. To understand what is happening emotionally a clear presentation to them of the range of personal transition going on needs to be conveyed. Multiple Transitions As the previous section mentioned, a young man or woman coming to seminary or religious community after several years of work and societal experience will confront a variety of transitions. Usually the candidates are somewhat aware and a bit apprehensive about the challenges ahead and they are ~bgnizant Of what they have "given up." Howeverl up6~ arrival at their new place of r~sidence they can be overwhelmed with the thrill of a new religious start.Having left the world where one struggled to survive religiously in a secular and cynical culture, they begome exhilarated in the environment of a supportive, like-minded community. Even the most dis, tant hopes of spirituality and ministry suddenly seem possible. (Every year each new group ,of candidates within .the first two weeks wants to add even ¯ more prayer services to the school's. Eucharist, morning rand evening prayer.) Thus the man~, transitions of life get forgotten ina tidal wave of religious fervor, but the transitions are still going on silently and relent-lessly. In time they frequently turn that tidal wave into a scorched desert of barren feeling. The transitions' are frequently more complicated and subtle than the Candidate realizes. The first transition is the move from a secular world Adjustments in Older Candidates / 337 with its pockets of popular religiosity into an encompassing ecclesiastical religious world. In the former situation faith and religious practice have served as powerful, value-laden forces ttiat supported, protected and nour-ished the individual; in the latter situation religious practice is :a constant, pervading element of almost every waking activity. An ecclesiastical reli-gious world often fails to separate the trivial and the important, the special and the ordinary, the cynical and the solemn. It's religion twenty'four hours a day! One ~young man said, "I've talked more God-talk in the last six months than in my previous twenty~six years combined. It's blowing my mind!" This religious overload takes its toll on the psychic system: the young man or woman may begin to feel he or she has lost that "something special" which faith provided. When all'is religious, nothing is religious! They may become distressed by their first in-close dealings with religious practices that are, routine, cynical and sometimes blatantly hypocritical. Their inexperience at differentiating motives and practices within a total ecclesiastical world can make them feel that the only way out is global rejection. The formation program needs to regularly help the candidates express and process their feelings towards the total religious community. Individuals obviously vary, but my students generally show signs in three weeks to a month of inner turmoil over their newfound ecclesiastical world. ,The transition to an ecclesiastical world will slowly induce other nega-tive ramifications. Young ,adult candidates begin the initial year with an amount of confidence they have built up in maintaining their faith com-mitment against diverse social presst]res. It is not unusual for some to have had to justify their vocational change to family, friends and coworkers; repeated justifications build in them a certain sense of well-being about their commitment. Other people publicly acknowledge them to be more religiously oriented for going to a seminary or convent. But upon entering the total ecclesiastical world, they soon perceive themselves as complete novices in more.ways than~one, They listen to conversations or classes filled with" church jargon and they soon judge themselves to know practically nothing about faith or religion. Liturgical customs befuddle them and they are embarrassed to ask names of objects, vestments or devotions that ¯ everyone else seems to know"intimately. Three months ago they were explaining many aspects of the Catholic faith to' coworkers; now they can easily perceive themselves as religiously dumb or incompetent. This partic-ular transition may contribute to their conservative stance, which is really a means of salvaging some vestige of religious dignity from their past. This transition, likeo all of them, can be jolting, but it can also be worked through. ~i31~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 Another key transition is the movement from one fixed social setting to another. Seminaries and religious communities tend to be enclosed, regu-lated societies (by laws or general expectations or both). Daily schedules and societal routines, such as meals, common prayers and social relation-ships can be vastly different from the social style that older candidates have become accustomed to. The-predominance,of same-sex relationships causes real hardships to some; the absence of children or family settings may be bothersome; the lack of free, unstructured evenings or weekends or the lack of a car and its freedom disrupt.the previous.ways that individuals had dissipated tension. That tension now accumulates and begins to boil within. ¯ I have found that on6 of the largest and most troubling transitions for young adults is the entrance into a trainin.g'program where theend is preparation for a. public role, along with the public evaluation that role requires. The priesthood as public leadership in the Chtirch and the eccle-sial witness of a religious community both demand evaluations of, persons seeking to enter those positions. Many older candidates have never thought of their religious pursuit through this lens,~-having confined their religious practice to a predominantly interior, individual and privatized realm (as is the fashion ofmost religious practice in the United States).2 The communal environment of seminaries and religious communities is saturated by the air of evaluation. Evaluation procedures are everywhere in current practice: academic, personal, spiritual, and so forth. All individuals must evaluate themselves (and others).on an annual basis. Each priesthood candidate will undergo an overall evaluation by faculty, and formation personnel on such matters as intellectual competence, social skills, pastoral abilities and spiritual growth. Externalization of what has often been a highly privatized religious realm can be terribly upsetting for the young adult. Some simply cannot see that,such matters should be evaluated publicly; the intense individualism of their religious background and expe-riences reacts strongly. Others become oversensitized, fearful. They worry about expulsion for unknown: reasons or accusation .by some Grand Inquisitor. Still others .may become hesitant because they°'fail to separate the realm of public behavior and standards from interior faith and direc-tion. A criticism about their lack of social abilities~can be "understood" as a criticism about °the integrity of theif~faith. A good. formation program should work with candidates to help them both understand and interiorize the meaning and demands of assuming a public leadership role, or the public demands of community~belonging. One young man said, "I just don't ~want to. be ste.reotyped~." I responded. "Sorry, it comes with the job." Many of these young adults who grew up in Adjustments in Older Candidates / 339 the age when traditional Catholic distinctions had slipped into shadows do not know the distinctions between "internal" and "external" forum. This must be carefully spelled out, and repeated from time to time. Even with all this, the appreciation of what a public religious leadership role demands does not occur without prayer, struggle and guidance through spiritual direction. The appreciation and interiorization of a public religious respon-sibility (beyond that of a private, personal spirituality) possesses all the elements of a significant conversion experience in life.~ To truly recognize the priestly ministry or the vowed religious life as constituting an ecclesial figureis also to accept thgse lifestyles as embodying~a responsibility to the whole Catholic world and Catholic tradition; this reaches considerably beyond a personal arid private" religious obligation. It requires an accep-tance and interiorization of public behavior, skills and attitudes which relate as much to the community of the Church as to my personal relatiom ship with God. Life transitions do pile up on the young adult who arrives at a seminary or religious community and seeks to discern a prssible calling to priest-hood or vowed life. We have considered several of the major ones: into an encompassing ecclesiastical world, from one fixed social setting into a quite different one, arid into a ~climate of higlfiaiablic evaluation. The anxieties generated by these transitioris can become severe, as the rii~xt section will show. For the l~resent fie simply need to note them and recognize that a Victic of directly addressing these transitions needs ~to be a constant com-ponent of both the formational and spiritual-direction program for these young adults. The Trauma of Transition For more than a decade the Alban Institute in Washington, D.C.I has studied the dynamics of "transition technology" in ministerial situations (e.g. from seminary to par!sh; from associate to pastor,,from one parish to another)) Leaders of the°institute recognized that those occasions when a person moves from one "known" social setting into a new and relatively unknown social setting constitute some of the most ~vulnerable periods in an individual's life. Although many organized-church traditions have fre-q uently moved, individuals from place to place as a matter of policy, little has been.done to help them make effective transitions to their new ministry or enable them to manage the sometimes severe traumas which may occur. (Th'e "grace of obedience"~was thought to effect the desired rebalancing:) The research of the Alban Institute has shown tl~at beginmngs in a pastoral situation are important; that the first months of adjustment frequently determine one's long-range adaptation and effectiveness in a new setting. 340/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 (In fact, more and more dioceses and religious houses are coming, to recognize the incredible influence of the first full-time placement.) Much of this research on transition technology becomes extremely relevant to young adults entering seminaries and religious communities for the first time. My particular seminary program deals with about thirty youngmen a year. l.would say it is.common for better than half of each group to feel some uncomfortableness over the transitions the$, experience. Their dis-comfiture may range from mild annoyance to severe personal upheaval. It is not unusual for an enthusiasm of the first weeks to slowly diminish and give wayto a growing diso'rientation. Some begin to.worry that they made a mistake, and the seminary .becomes a fearsome, t~rapping situation because their previous job has.been discontinued and their housing sold or leased. Others just ask over and over, "Why am 1 here?" and can't seem to find a satigfactory answer. A few may worry that their entire faith is crumbling; they can't explain sudden doubts which appeared where only months before there was absolute conviction. This time of doubt and dejection is frequently accompanied~by physical symptoms. Nagging illnesses like colds or upset stomachs pop up; physical weariness becomes the order of the day. Changes in bowel habits or sleep-lessness can increase anxiety. A transition experience cuts across all dimen-sions of life: physical, psychological, social and spiritual. We must understand the effects of social transitions on all these human areas,,and be ready to help people negotiate them. Psychologically, in a period of transition, by definition a young adult coming from secular societal life to the seminary or religious community, his or her daily patterns of life have all been removed, and new patterns do not immediately emerge. In certain aspects these individuals are like.immi-grants, slowly searching and experimenting for new roots. This time change may cause strong internal feelings to erupt. Some individuals Who previously held positions of authority and responsibility in the societal work force now feel the disorientation and worthlessness that lack of authority and status may bring. And there is no work or service in their new life to compensate. The sudden displacement of responsibilit.y may spark feelings of worthlessness or humiliation. (~Karl Marx had a valid insight in saying that a good deal of our personal identity comes from the socially significant work we do.) Lastly, the h~avy outpouring of psychic energy that goes with meeting new people, places and routines day after day leaves everyone tired and feeling a bit drained, and that weariness usually compounds the other negative feelings. This trauma of transition is not unusual, neither is it .a test that will, Adjustments in Older Candidates / 341 necessarily overwhelm a certain percentage of candidates. If these persons understand the probability of its occurrence at some time ~n their first year, do some preparation, and know some techniques of personal management, they are~able to handle it with a modicum of discomfort. One last point.should be watched: there it a quite normal dynamism of expectation which may w6rk havoc in situations of transitions, and I have frequently noticed it in pre-theology candidates. These young men often come from societal settings where they have been able to exercise some Christian service and engage in personal spirituality projects on a limited scale (perhaps in a parish volunteer setting or a Christian social-action group). When they enter the seminary and begin formal preparation for priesthood, their expectations escalate and they "assume" an immediate increase in Christian serviceand spirituality practices. But with full-time classes and school activities they are soon doing less actual ministry than before, and their personal prayer gets mixed up by the communal obliga-tions mentioned before.4 Psychologically their expectations are "gunning" the spiritual motor, so to speak, but socially they are in Park, and they find that they are grinding themselves down. This dynamic needs to be watched and worked with by formation personnel and spiritual directors. Older candidates need to formulate sl6~vly and patiently a "plan of identification" just as the Alban lfistitute counsels new ministers to work gradually towards formulating a plan of ministry for their new pastoral assignment.5 Just as six months is a recommended period of grace bef6re initiating parish changes, it is p]-obably a reasonable time-allotment for new-candi-dates before they attempt to assess (and escalate) any personal expectations they place o'n themselves. Suggestions for Personal and Spiritual Management The perception that older priesthood and religious candidates require qualitatively different kinds of formation programs is an ,idea that has already taken deep root among vocation and formation personnel. Signifi-cant strides have been made in many areas like course instruction and communityqiviiag requirements. I fiaerely hope to add a bit to this growing body of knowledge b~ suggesting some tactics and strategies to assist these individuals working through their initial adjustment or transition phase. These comments are more often applicable within the first six months of entry into seminary or religious community. The first strategy, in the line of preventive medicine, is quite simply knowledge, an awareness that some transition-anxiety will probably occur no matter how fine and enthusiastic the first weeks may be. There will undoubtedly be a great diversity in how individuals manage transitions; for ~149 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 some the adjustments may be slight, but few will have no problems what-ever. Simply to have in one's awareness a basic grasp of the multiple transitions, and how these transitions produce p~rsonal stress will provide guidelines for interpretation and action. To diagnose a difficulty ~icc.urately. is the first essential task in any kind of counseling. In this instance it may offset the further anxiety that can result if the young persgn feel.s that his or her vocation or faith is disintegrating. A second level o.f strategy would articulate a set of tactics that °might assist the young adult inthe midst of transition stresses to cope with these pressures. These tactics are similar to managing any "survival situation.TM They can be briefly summarized: 1) Lowe.rpqrsonal expectations. Instead of escalating their demands upon themselves to pray more fervently, work harder and do more service to others,, efforts should be made to cut back on these eoxpectations temporarily. The key here is to conserve physical and psychological energy for the tasks of psychic self-preservation. These indi-viduals are already operating at a reduced, energy level (due to the drain that social transitions exert), and there is no way they can successfully meet escalatedexpectations. Repeated failures merely compound guilt and nega-tive feelings, 2) Increased rest. The bodily systems are the foundation for psychological and emotional health as well as for making accurate judg- ¯ ments. When emotions are depleted, the body needs rest to coalesce strength and rebuild proper balance. For a time one may have to sacrifice other elements in the daily schedule in order, to get some additional rest time. 3) Pay attention to building daily routines. One of the reasons for high energy drain in transition times is that ever~h.ing is. ne,.w (people, places, schedule, social expectations). An inordinate amount of attentive awareness goes into "meeting" new people and performing even simple daily tasks. Habit or routine is Of value precisely to relieve that constant outpouring. Seek to regularize daily work-times, eating .and rest habits, companions, and so forth. 4) Spiritual direction and counseling. It always helps to talk tlirough problems, especially with a person who can provide a wider frame ~of reference. It does take some humility to asks. for help, particularly when one wanted so much to get off to a fabulous start in a new career. 5) Remind yourself that perserveranc.e is a Christian virtue. The young adult might remember that he or she has ~already made a very significdnt personal decision (to seek a testing of priesthood or religious life) and that decision should be stuck to "in good times and in bad," as any promise ought to be. A third, strategy would be to:recognize that a dynamic similar to the grieving process needs to tran_spire in the person. For many of these older candid~ites there is a break and removal,from friends, supports and joys of Adjustments in Older Candidates living. A sense of loss may strike them~ sharply as the first bloom of seminary or religious-community life wears off. The classic stages of the grieving process denial, anger, bargaining,,depression, acceptance cab find analogues in this context: fighting the onset of discouraging feelings, anger at the institution or superiors, bargaining to find some accomodating way, and so forth. Formation personnel should help candidates to realize that such feelings may be part of the natural adaptive process and not simply a rejection or d~nial of their vocations to priesthood or religious life. At particular moments it helps to say clearly ~hat one must give oneself permission to be discouraged or angry or depressed. That~acceptance may be necessary if an individual is to work the grieving process to a resolution and a newfound balance. Finally, a major theme of the pre-theology or novitiate year, which can be successfully introduced when the candidates are a couple of months into the program, is that of Christian conversion. A goodly number of older candidates arrive at their respective ecclesia~stical institutions as the result of some form of conversion experience, and so they often feel that the major part of the conversion process is behind them. The theological understand-ing of conversion as lifelong, process, with the tougher steps still ahead, becomes more graspable as the first sheen of the year wears off and people settle into the long haul Of personal and ministerial formation, lndeed conversion becomes more challenging the deeper it penetrates into our hearts and souls. Later people may look back and realize-that the expe-rience which brought them to seminary or religious community only cracked the surface. The more difficult and richer stages lie yet in the future. The preceding strategies are some helps I have found in aiding candi-dates to grapple with and conquer the onset of transition anxieties in their first year of seminary or religious community. By no means are they meant to be complete and exclusive. The formation literature that deals with this new form of religious and ministerial candidate grows steadily in breadth and depth; these reflections are intended to be one voice in that continuing conversation. NOTES ~"Candidates Entering Schools of Theology Without Prior Seminary Experie.nce," Report of Midwest Catholic Seminary Rectors (Duplicated Copy-1981), pp. 2-3. 344 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 2John Coleman "The Situation for Modern Faith," Theological Studies 39 (1978), pp. 601-632. 3AIban Institute materials 'include a series of pamphlets and workbooks by Roy M. Oswald: Crossing the Boundary Between Seminary and Parish; The Pastor as New-comer; New Beginn(ngs: Pastorate Start-Up Workbook. 4A similar process can transpire in religious community candidates even though they experience common prayer as a part of their ideal. This happens when an individual has so meshed his or her religious self-identity with a particular form of private prayer, that they are perceived as inseparable. It can be more difficult to unravel these situa-tions in religious community settings because of the difficulty of finding some "sabbati-cal time" to do the rettiinking and revaluing. 5Ro3/M. Oswald, New Beginnings: Pastorate Start-Up Workbook (Washington, D.C.: Alban Institute Publications, 1977), pp: 33-65. 61 have dealt with these dynamics further in " 'I'm Just Making It': Survival as a .Spiritual Value," REVlEW FOR R E~.~G~OUS 37 (1978), pp. 277-278. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions land II Address: by Patricia Spillane, M. S~ C. Price: 151.25 per copy, plus postage. Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. SL Louis, Missouri 63108 Extremism in Ignatius of Loyola Tad Dunne, S.J. Father Dunne, who previously taught systematic theology at Toronto's Regis College, is now Director of Novices for the Detroit Province. He may be addressed at Loyola House: 2599 Harvard Road: Berkley. Michigan 48072. Retreats can be deceptive. Wewithdraw from our daily0meanderings and ascend to some lofty point from which we can see, from a spiritual perspec-tive, where our journey has taken us and where it is going. We may feel a need for an outlook quite opposite to oar culture's, even extremely so in some sense, if we are to live a vibrant spirituality in the midst of the world. From that vantage point, we search the gospels for some absolute ideal against which to test our everyday activities. And usually we come away with a vision simple and uncompromising. Then we come down from the heights, and before long we start work-ing on a balance between these opposites: not too talkative, but not too silent; not a workaholic, but not lazy; don't jump to conclusions, but don't accept everything mindlessly either. We look back on our retreat from quite a different perspective than we had while we were in it. Then we saw ourselves as refusing to com, promise with the world; but now we feel maybe just a little more faithful or a little more loving, and we count that small gain as our humble best. IS this retreat desire for some spiritual extreme an illusion we amuse ourselves with while p.erc.hed far above the harsh realities of the city? Or is the opposite true: that our adaptations to everyday realities compromise something in us that is precious in the sight of God? Ignatius of Loyola was one person, among many others in our history, who pushed for the no-compromise attitude: ~6 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 Just as people of the world who follow the world love and seek with such great diligence honors, fame, and esteem for a great name on earth, as the world teaches (hem, so those who are progressing i9 the spiritual life and truly following Christ our Lord love and intensely desire everything oppo-site (GE 101).~ This sounds impressive, but many doubt that we can make such a ¯ black/white distinction today. Unlike Ignatius in his day, we perceive a certain continuity between religious values and secular values. Our society's hospitals, its welfare systems, our efforts to eliminate poverty and to estab-lish political grounds for world peace all point to a growing convergence of what "the world" and what Christians intensely desire. Indeed, a case could be made that it is chiefly because of Christian values that the Secular City is gradually taking on humane, even spiritual goals for the human race. So should we regard Ig.natius' contentious approach to life as just a temporary stance made necessary by the chaos of the Church and of society in his time? I would like to argue a strong "No!" Strong, because unless we see some practical usefulness to an "everything opposite,, attitude, we would lose our sense of what is radidal about being Christian. We would gradually grow accustomed to "the world" as it is, and lose our critical 'sense. We w6uld have no razor-edged criterion for weighing practical alter-natiVes in ourapostolates. But what exactly does Ignatius mean by "everything opposite?"Para-doxically, he also counseled balance in many areas of life. So we can legitimately ask in what sense ought we be spiritual extremists, and in what sense men and women of prudent balance? Although I focus m~inly on Ignatius, I have no doubt that most°of the spiritual giants in human history would know what Ignatius was talking about. A Dialectic of Desires First of all, this "everything opposite" attitude does not refer to external social or cultural realities. It does not mCan that we should be opposed to all modern institutions just because they are "of the world." In any cage, these are always a mixed product of intelligence and ~aliqe, of good will and stupidity, and so in their regard we try not to throw out the baby with the bath. What Ignatius is talking about is rather ~ithe inner realities of consciousness. The "everything" which ought to 15e opposite to the "world" means inner desires. The disciple's desires ought to be completely opposite to the worldly penchant in us to "love and seek with such great diligence honors, fame, and esteem for a great name bn earth,~as the world teaches." Let me explain this more .fully. On the one hand, we revel in praise, we take pains to protect our Extremism ih Ignatius of Loyola/347 reputations, and we easily pour our energies into making a name for ourselves. On the other hand, rebukes chasten us, insults sting us, and injuries humble us. However, even when these humiliations are unjustified, we do have to admit that the shock to our pride does have a therapeutic element in it. In some small way, we need a come-uppance now and then. To be "put in one's pldce" can shatter self-defeating illusions we cherish about ourselves. What is very important to notice here is thatwhat honors do to ore: sense of ourselves, and what put-downs do, "are completely opposite. It is these opposing senses of'ourselves, I believe, that Ignatius means°by "everything opposite." Wl~at Ignatius gives in the General Examen, he expands upon in the meditation on the Two Standards (SE 136-148).2 There he shows how different acquired tastes about lifestyle usually lead to quite deep and quite opposite longings abo~t one's self-awareness. On the one hand. the taste for m0ney'leads to a desire for a great name. On the other, the taste for poverty usually leads to a longing for a certain anonymity the kind that frees a person to live without crippling self-concern. And beyond the great name anti th~ little name lie the r~al objects of one's deepest love what Ignatius calls either a.life of pride or a life of humility. Learning the Dialectic of Desires ~ Now few people recognize that, in faCt, they long either for pride or for humility. In"one's everyday choices,, most things seem morally gray, with-out serious consequefices., And yet they do add up to a direction in one's life, a direction that sooner or later reveals whether a person is self-centered or not. So it takes some reI:le~tion to real'ize for oneself that underneath a great number of apparently harmless concerns there lurks one's fundamen-tal inclination to pride. Likewise it takes some measure of self-reflection to notice the interior movements that in fact are a person's desire for humility. Once both these movements are recognized,° we can see that they are entirely opposite pulls in consciousness. Moreover, we can then begin to recognize that this dialectic of desires fihderlies our every activity, and see how it profoundly determines the person we become and the stamp we leave on our world. Given the'importance of this self-education in inner movements, it is no wonder that Ignatius prescribes more meditations on the Two Standards than on any other in the Exercises. ~ Still, we must admit, despite repeated meditations on the Two Stan-dards and nur~erous exhortations on the value of resisting the pull to ownership and to be held in high esteem, even the spiritually mature do not easily maintain.such a dialectical attitu.de toward their inner movements. And so we must ask why an "everything opposite" attitude is so difficult to 348 / Review.['or ReliL, ious~ May-June, 1986 live out. One reason is that we have failed to see the point of the Two Standards meditation. We may shave "done it" during a retreat and felt we got the point. Perhaps we understood Ignatius' view of the spiritual struggle very well and saw its connection toomaking choices in life. So we act as though it is enough to grasp the concept of spiritual struggle; we sincerely hope to bring the concept to bear in our everyday situations. What we forget is that life is concrete, not abstract. The people and the situations around us are a profoundly mysterious jumble of grace and malice, requiring in-depth reflection every day. Mediiation is .not analysis. Nor is =t simply ar~ appreciation of an abstract vision. Rather, meditation should be an ongoing and strenuous exerc=se in understanding the interac-tion between our concrete surroundings and our inner struggles. Ignatius, in fact, appeals very little to the concept of struggle. By that I mean that he does not analyze the meaning of "acting a, gainst" considered as a principle from which actions can be determined. It is one thing to acknowledge that life is a struggle, but quite another to name exactly what we are struggling with each day. In his practice and teaching of discernment Ignatius seldom appeals to an abstract rule of life. Instead, he appeals to imagination and to history to show that life is essentially a dialectic of desires, because he wants us to realize it in our own lives. For example, in the General Examen, he asks that the candidate for the Society of Jesus "ponder" how helpful it is to imitate the humiliated Christ. Does "ponder" mean conceptualize and ar~.lyze here? Not at all. The candidate is asked to imagine spiritually advanced men and womer~ and to notice how in fact they "intensely desire" to be clothed exactly as Christ, because of the love they bear him. lgnatius does not tell the candidate to imitate Christ humiliated and poor. He directs him only t,~ im.agine what the loyal disciple desires. Likewise in the Two Standards, the retreatant imagines the "servants and friends" of Christ, how they are naturally attracted in the direction opposite to pride, and how they attract others in the direction of h~mility.' I believe that ~Igriatius is trying to help the retreatant distinguis~h between several otherwise nameless, interior experiences. By focusing on the disciple instead of the Master, Ignatius clearly means to have us consider which Of our inner experiences, among the many that occur, corresponds to that particular attraction to Christ which the true disciple experiences. In other words, he wants us to discriminate among inner desires, not apply some facile, clean-cut rules about behavior. I said that Ignatius appeals also to history to teach us about these two pulls in consciousness. He does this in two ways. First, he directs a~tention Extremism in Ignatius of Loyola to the purposes which motivated Jesus in his work on earth so that we might better imitate him. True disciples "desire to resemble and imitate our Creator and Lord Jesus Christ. since it was for our spiritual profit that he clothed himself as he did" (GE.101 ). Notice that lgnatius calls Jesus "our Creator." This makes the choices of Jesus for poverty and humiliations a deliberate revelation of how we can best fulfill the purpose of our creation. Our Creator, Jesus Christ, came with this express purpose--to "give us an example that in all things possible we"might seek., to imitate and follow him, since he is the way that leads us to life" (GE 101). For Ignatius, God desired to enter human history in person, taking on the only condition that truly gives life, a condition of poverty and humility. If there was any doubt which inner desire one can depend on, now we see clearly that Jesus Christ freely and wisely chose .poverty and humiliations. History now has a model-member to guide it~ Jesus Christ, not just Lord but Creator as well, in imitation of whose interior .desires we find real life. Ignatius appeals to history in another manner which;although it is less obvious in the texts, underlies everything in the General Examen and the Exercises. Like St. Paul, he boldly sets his own historical experience and that of his first companions as the measure of what abnegation means in the concrete. In Chapter. Four of the General Examen, which Ignatius wrote with the overall intention that novices accept the idea of abnegation,3 we find this reason given: "For where the Society's first members have passed through these necessities and greater bodily wants, the others who come to it should endeavi~r, as far as they can, to reachthe same point as the.earlier ones, or to go farther in our Lord" (GE 81). In other words, the candidate is told that he is entering a community which is not leading itself; it is being led by God. Like Israel, the Society's founding historical expe-rience is normative for the Society's continuing style.Therefore for the simple reason that God moved the early companions to love poverty and humiliations in order to achieve the humility of Jesus, so too shOuld the later companions, because this is not just human work but the very labor of God nbt only in our psyches but in our history too. Isee two kinds of meditations which these reflections should prompt. First, we should learn for ourselves how to recognize when ~we are pulled toward humility and when towards pride. To do this, it may help to compare our~own inner experience to that of deeply spiritual persons. Their outwardly simple and self-effacing lifestyle is a manifestation of a militant obedience, to a deep and steady love within. Authentic people avoid applause, not because they are shy but because they are courageously maintaining a spirit which is very precious to them. Second, we should meditate on the various stories in which God acted ~ / Review for Religious, Ma.v-June, 1986 for the Church through Ignatius, or through any of the men and women who understood the struggle within. Their story is part of our history, and our story draws its meaning from that shared history. God indeed has entered history permanently, not only in the person of Christ Jesus but also in the hearts of our spiritual ancestors. Ignatius and his companions, in particular, recognized that their experience of begging and mockery gave them great joy. And why? Because they felt a concrete share in the expe-rience of their~Creat0r and Lord. Once they decided to form a community, they wrote constitutions with the purpose of structuring, as far as possible. a continual reenactment by its members of their'often difficult yet greatly joyful desires. We can read Scripture in the same way. By attending to the inner experiences which lay behind the texts of Scripture, we can recognize the two pulls of consciousness and the meamng of each, For example, when Jesus heard the woman cry out, "Happy is the womb that bore you and the breasts that nursedyou!" he replied, "Not as happy as those who hear the Word of God and keep it!" (Lk 11:27-28). As I read it, this text says that the ~hief concern of a happy consciousness is inner obedience, not family loyalty nor pride in the fruits of one's labor.- For another example, we hear the reading from Wisdom, "I esteemed her [wisdom] more than scepters and thrones:. I loved her more than health or beauty" (7:8-10). What else is this wisdom but, the constant desire to live with ,the regular humiliations that come with living in the truth? Once we understand that what we call "salvation" is in fact the outcome of a tension in consciousness, we can read any scriptural stories and recognize familiar inner movements in ourselves. In this fashion, by seeing our pres-ent experience in the light of the gospels, we can grow to love the humble, self-transcending path. An Empirical View of the Dialectic Having said all that, there .still remains a nagging question. Many deeply spiritual men and women in fact have meditated in this way, have lived in actual poverty, have been stung by the insults, and know the joy that can accompany these experiences, but they regard this as a persono! asceticism only. They possess only vague notions of what the humble way has to do with peace in the world and the ongoing struggle of cultural and political leaders, to achieve it. Perhaps they believe in the~principle that pride pulls down nations, but they have no mental frameworkfor under-standing how it does so. Nor do they perceive how anyone~'s humility might everbuild up a nation. As a result, while they may live out a dialectical attitude ih their personal.lives, they can make no connections between it Ertremism in Ignatius of" Loyola / 351 and contemporary political science, psychology, sociology and economics. And so they seem to ache for the world but know nothing about how to improve it. Our world, after all, is thoroughly empirical, unlike Ignatius' world. which it seems, doted more on eternal verities. Were Ignatius alive today, 1 believe that besides appealing to imagination and to history, he would add a functional explanation of how the dialectic of desires underlies social progress and decline. That is, he would seek to explain how an inner penchant for doing without funds or fame works to bring about a redemp-tion in Christ Jesus that would mean something to this world. Or. to use his terms, he would explain what role ',discernment of spirits" plays in "redeeming" the world: To work out that functional explanation of how discernment of spirits facilitates redemption, we have to express the movements of the good and bad angels in terms that the average person can find in experience; °There are two experi.ences in particular which we must point out. each repr_esent-ing a pull or drawing in consciousness on the side of Christ's standard. First- is the experience of intending the truth. This experience relates to an extremely broad range of objects, and yet, as experience, it is quite distinct from many other kinds of inner experience. To "intend the truth" means to want to know reality, to search for answers to questions, and to respect the truth when we find it. This intending, this search, this respect, pulls against a counter-drift in us which settles for simple answers, for impressive words, for tricky, solutions, and for comforting illusions. Second is the experience of intending the good. This too relates to a ¯ broad range~ of objects and yet is quite a distinct feeling in consciousness. We ;'intend the good" when we weigh options for the sake of discovering what is objectively the best choice. In doing so, .we pull against ~ counter-tendency which seeks the merely satisfying, the subjectively comfortable. To want the truly good often means to choose a more painful path, but a better .one. And the criterion we use .to tell which is better is not only an examination of pros and cons.but also and chiefly, I believean expe-rience of fulfilled,or frustrated desire in our hearts. With these two experiences in mind--the intention of truth and the intention of good we can analyze how an "everything opposite" attitude works redemption in concrete situations, and how a failure to be strongly contentious prevents redemption from taking over. Let me illustrate this in several different areas of life. Some Illustrations To a great extent we all have difficulty with our feelings. Speaking for 352 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 myself, whenever I meet a stranger at a party, I seem to listen to our conversation with one ear and to my inner apprehensions with the other. It doesn't work very well because I often say things I immediately feel foolish about. Just when I hope to make a good impression, 1 feel I make a bad one. This happens because my mind was not fully on what we were talking about. I was also thinking about how to feel accepted, and so I blurted out things unrelated tothe topic of our conversation. Things are not much better with friends either, particularly when it comes to dealing with anger. When a friend gets angry with 'me, I want to strike back or at least defend myself. But neither reaction helps me under- 'stand what has gone wrong, and this failure to understand only makes it that much harder to work out an amicable solution. The ideal, of course, is to be able to acknowledge the truth of my own feelings and the feelings of others. This means workifig both to name the feelings and to pinpoint what the feelings are focused on--not an easy task for anybody. Negative feelings in particular are often repressed, and yet they are our best indicators that something of value is going ~ wrong. Because they are meant to alert us to harm, we should take them seriously, making every attempt first to acknowledge them and then to understand what they are all about. But this requires a no-compror~ise attitude towards those, pulls inside us which spring to "defend our poor egos. Those pulls create illusions which seduce us and cushion us against taking the sometimes painful responsibility~of facing the truth and doing our real best. For another illustraton of how dedication to reality and to objective worth helps bring order and sense into an ot.herwise ch~aotic situation, consider how communities tend by nature to be self-centered. As a com-munity we may be very realistic and quite responsible where each other are concerned, but this does nothing to prevent us from being aloof and oblivious to outsiders. Every community tends to reinforce its owri biases, to congratulate itself on its victories, and to speak a language full of value judgments 'that no one questions. Members seldom wonder whence its resources come and where its garbage goes. They seldom question whether or not its enjoyments are paid for by the sweat and malnutrition of foreigners. Unfortunately, for all the values inherent in community, there is very little in community itself that directs it beyond itself. These powerful gravi-tational forces toward self-centeredness can be found in communities of all sizes: couples in love, large families, ethnic groups, labor unions, nations-- and even religions. But all such communities live among other communi-ties. They contain subgroups, and they belong to larger groups. Wittiout some cultural commitment to the larger, more common good, subgroups Extremism in Ignatius of Loyola / 353 cut back their good will and limit their creativity to what benefits them-selves alone. So the normal demand for large-scale cooperationis regularly sacrificed for some small-scale gain: first for this and then for that faction. Sadly and ironically, once this game of competition between groups begins, none of the groups benefits as much as each of them might have, had they all shared their wits and their good will with one another. Historically, self-centered communities have enlarged their vision and commitments only when they have been provoked from within by a prophet. Usually.the prophet gathers a select community of like-minded people together to become the leaven in the dough. But before the prophet speaks a single word or calls a single disciple, he or she bbeysan inner pull toward truths and values that run counter to the prevailing attitudes. Prophets have reputations for being contentious. They get that way because they already fight an interior battle between illusions that are familiar and truths that are strange, between old, accepted ways of treating people and new, more dignified ways. So they cry out to the people they love, calling them to realize that they are playing a no-win game with other groups. When prophets are successful, a reform movement will get under, way only insofar as it deals with the community's concrete relations to other groups. The measure of its success will be the degree to which it demolishes any self-centered myths which its own authorities may propagate in the name of community strength or unity. But its members have to wake up intellectually. Only when they recognize these myths in themselves and wage an interior war against them will this peaceful revolution be~in. For my final illustration, I want to highlight the inner struggle that takes place in what we call the deep thinkers--scientists, historians, philo-sophers, and theologians, both the professional and the amateur. Contrary to popular opinion, deep thinkers often do not have an astronomically high I.Q. They work slowly but steadily. Nor are they born "bright;" they become aware of long-range implications and complex problems only by a steady fight against their minds' drift toward the easy answers. Again, you can see my point. On the one hand, we all experience a pull " toward a bogus form of knowing; the kind that relies on memory, rhetoric and bluffing. On the other, we also experience an "entirely opposite" pull towards asking honest questions, and searching for the best explanations, fighting against any worry that someone else .might beat us to a solution. We all have felt the desire to belittle intellectual inquiry and to disregard journals of opinion; even as we secretly wish we had the staying power to work for a more than surface understanding of the world around us. We cannot excuse our anti-intellectualism on the grounds of mental 3~4 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 dullness. The so-called "dull" can be extremely bright when it comes to practical and immediate concerns, Here lies the road to pride again. On its own power alone; our intelligence would n~ver stop asking questions about anything, no matter how remote. But when, the fruits of our reflections are not immediate and palpable, then a prideful concern for our own welfare forces its way in and compels our intelligence to surrender. We yield to the forces in our consciousness that move us toward easy answers, silly responses, and. make-believe solutions. While we all recognize these pulls in ourselves, we should notice what happens when psychologists, histbriians, political scientists, economists and the like give in to them. Their shortsighted solutions to human crises 'make life more miserable not just for themselves but for countless other human beings. Yet no jury indicts them for malpractice. No preacher denounces them from the pulpit. Instead, we give them the benefit of the doubt that ~'they did their best." But upon their interior obedience to the canons of truth--an obedience monitored by themselves alone--hangs the future of anyone whom their theories, and policies' touch. From this large-scale perspective, we can see better that every time someone settles for'merely partial answers to problems, he or she usually introduces a solution which itself needs fixing by someone else. Of course, this is only a general explanation of how bad situations get worse, but it does explain how a contentious spirituality can work to better the world we live in. Only an "everything opposite" attitude towards this downhill intel-lectual slide will regularly bring about .intelligent and long-range solutions to the problems that beset God's people. Conversion to the Dialectical Attitude "Everything opposite" means a conversion--one that requires some-times anger but often gentleness to maintain. It means recognizing that oners interior is a battleground of two opposing kinds of movements, whose :outcome has direct manifestations in one's psychic health, one's prophetic spirit, and one's intellectual freedom. These, in turn~, have a direct .effect on:family harmony, social justice and on the broad philosophies and theories that shape out: human institutions. The conversion ought to be total,.because there is no event in our everyday lives which does not derive its meaning from how we responded to it. As Christians, we stand in a peculiar relationship to.~this conversion to a dialectical .attitude. The functional explanation givrn above, of how dis-cernment of spirits works to create a better world, could stand on its own without any~reference to Christ Jesus. This is an asset insofar as Christians can share a vision, a language, and a praxis with non-Christians--which Extremism in Ignatius of, Loyola we must certainly do if we are to tackle issues of social justice with any seriousness. Such cooperation can even be the beginning of a dialogue about ultimates in truth and goodness leading to the Good News of Christ Jesus. But a functional explanation by itself is also a liability insofar as Christians might forget to name just who it is who moves the soul to face the truth and do one's true best. So it seems incumbent upon theologians and catechists to express the age-old doctrine of redemption in Christ Jesus and the Spirit in functional categories drawn from the dynamic~ of con-sciousness and the workings of history. This is a large order, but fortu-nately one already, being taken up by many today. A final word of caution: Such an "everything opposite" attitude is not learned overnight. It takes time to name which inner experiences corres-pond to "intending the truth" and which to wishful thinking; which to "inte,,nding the good" and which to securing the merely comfortable for ourselves. And we learn by our mistakes. But Without the slightest exag-geration we can say that in this matter there should be no compromise. Only an extremism about our inner movements can give us the day-to-day balanced judgment and love that redeem the world. ~ NO~ES ~ General Examen. This document was written by Ignatius for the purpose of teaching candidates for the Society, of Jesus what Jesuit life Would require. It was meant to be given:in a retreat setting, requiring some serious meditation. See George E. Ganss, ed., The Constitutions of the ~Society of Jesus (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970) pp. 75-118. My references above refer to paragraph numbers. 2Spiritual Exercises. See Louis 3. Puhl, ed., The Spiritual~Exercises of St. Ignatius (Wes.tminister, MD: The Newman Press, 1959), References are to paragraph numbers. 3Joseph de Guibert, The Jesuits: Their St~iritual Doctrine and Practice (Chicago: Loyola UniverSity Press; St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1964) p. 141. The Spirit of Holiness Living in Us E. A. Ruch, 0 M.L Father Ruch teaches philosophy, at the National University of Lesotho (P.O. Roma 180; Southern Africa). He has just completed a study leave in France. Spiritual theology distinguishes three stages in our progress towards holiness: The purgative (cleaning) stage which consists essentially in a breaking-away from sin, not merely out of fear of divine punish-ment, but out of a God-given awareness of God's love for us; The illuminative stage in which we grow in a personal understanding of who God is, an awareness which always culminates in the realiza-tion that "God is love"; The unitivestage which is a personal love-response to God's love for us and thus a gradual transformation of ourselves into true children of God sharing in his divine nature. Holiness is infinitely more than just being a good man, someone who meticulously obeys the law of God. We live in a redeemed world, a world already reconciled with God, but in which we are called to "become the goodness of God" (2 Co 5:21). This is why the standards of holiness which Christ sets us are much higher than those of "the Scribes and the Pharisees" (see Mt 5:20-47). Jesu~ has come to complete the law, to raise it io a level which we cannot attain by our human strength. Indeed, he expects us to be "perfect as (our) heavenly Father is perfect" (Mt 5:48). He wants us to become "fully developed, complete, with nothing missing" (Jm 1:4). He wants us to "be holy in all [we] do, since it is the Holy One who has called [us], and Scripture says: be holy, for I am holy" (I P 1:IS). We must not, therefore, confuse a high standard of moral purity with holiness. Moral purity is only the starting poittl on our way to holiness. The Spirit of Holiness / 357 Beyond our human struggle for justice and goodness, there is a gift from God which transcends all human limits. Let me try to exploin this by means of a parable. Let us suppose a diver who, having stripped off his everyday clothing, is preparing tb plunge into the pool. Undressing does not make a diver. It is only when he has left terra firma and confided himself tothe new element, viz. water, that his life as a diver begins; for it is only a beginning. Let us now follow the diver's experience under water. He begins to discover the marvels of the underwater flora and fauna: a truly new world opens: to him. True, he also begins to discover the dangers of this life, but the beauties he discovers are more than a match for the risks incurred. More and more he finds pleasure in diving and in exploring this new world. And yet, every once in a while he has to return to dry land to refill his compressed air cylinders and to take a rest in his own, more familiar world. Let us now imagine such a diver being gradually transformed into an "aquatic animal," i,e, into a kind of new man, capable of living, breathing and working under water in perfect ease, not even wishing to return to his formerly familiar, yet highly toxic atmosphere of nitrogen, oxygen and carbon dioxide. Life under water has become a "second nature": it is now his "real" life and his original one would be considered as "abnormal." He is now a new creature "fully developed, complete, with nothing missing" who no longer wants to leave his newly acquired mode of existence, and who finds "life outside" meaningless, boring, heavy and poisonous. He now "lives and moves and has his being" in God. He has "become like him, because he sees him as he really is" (1 Jn 3:2). We have here a neat image of growth in holiness. First of all, God, through his Spirit living in me, prompts me, urges me to "take the plunge" and to be '~baptized in the Spirit." He then begins the long process of revealing the beauties and risks of life in and with God. Finally he initiates that transformation into his own life which will only be completed in eternal beatitude, but which is already partially shared through faith in the joy of discovering the life of God in us. I would now like to show the role of the Holy Spirit in these three stages. The Purification When John the Baptist preached the metanoia; q.e. the "turning-around," the "about-face" which is required in our sinful life, he strength-ened his preaching with the effective symbol of immersion into the water of the Jordan as a sign of personal cleansing. But John also knows that he cannot achieve more than mere moral purity. He is still a man of the Old ~1511/ Review for Religious; May-June, 1986 Testament ("The least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he is" (Mt 11:11))~ We are called to much more than moral purity and John proclaims his role as Precursor of the one who will baptize "with the Holy~Spirit and withfire" (Mt 3:11). The symbol of fire a~ an element of purification is well known throughout the Scriptures: More effectively than water, because it goes to the hearvof the matter and not only to its surface, fire cleanses from within. It burns away the impurities as one,burns the chaff after winnowing (Mt 3:11-12).~ .~ Fire as a ~ymbol of the Holy Spirit is, of course, well known from the Pentecost event and the "tongues of fire." Another purifying force in spiritual life is the loneline.ss, suffering and silence of,the "desert experience." Like the people of Israel who have to be purified of their Egyptian habits through their forty years of wandering through the desert, so also Jesus himself was "led by the Spirit out into the wilderness to-be tempted by the devil" (Mr 4::1; Mk 1:12 and ~Lk 4:1). The Spirit will invite us too from time to time to retire into solitude and silence, because this is the precondition for hearing the voice of God which would become inaudible in. the hustle and bustle of our daily, life in our,~nervous and tension-filled world. And just as fire is painful when it burns away impurities, so ~the solitude of the desert is frightening. St. Teresa of Avila insists very strongly on the importance of "the grace of quiet" for spiritual life (Way of Perfection, ch. 33). St.John also points at another necessary purification: to bring the desires of the flesh under th~ control of the spirit: Unless ~ man is borfi through water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of heaven. What is born of the flesh is flesh; what is born of the ,.Spirit is spirit (Jn 3:5-6). Thus purification is part of a p(~ocess of acq~iiring a new life (see v. 3). "l:he real life is not the one given by the flesh; only'"the Spirit. gives life" (J~n 6:63). Above all, purification from sin is a condition for receiving the gift of ¯ theo~Holy Spirit. Therefore Peter announces to the people at Pentecost: You must repent .and everyone of you must be baptized in the name of Jesus 'Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit (Ac 2:38). In reverse, the Holy Spirit is specifically given to the Apostles to,enable them to forgive sins: Receive~the Holy Spirit. For those whose sins you forgive they are for-given; ofor those whose sins you retain, they are retained (Jn 20:22). ~' We are fighting a running battle against the forces of evil. We are the The Spirit of Holiness / 359 accused in an endless courtcase in which Satan is "the accuser of'our brethren., who accuses them day and night before God"(Rv 12:10). But this a~:cuser has been "thrown down" (ibid) by the Holy Spirit who is our Advocate. Because the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of Truth while the devil is the "spirit of disorder" ( I Jn 4:6) and of "falsehooi:l ~ind murder" (Jn 8:44).~ In our fight with the spirit of evil who tries to turn us away from God. the Advocate "will be with you forever, he will be continually at your. side. he will be m you" (Jn 14:17). ~hus the Holy Spirit appears also as the one who sustains us in our temptations, who provides us with arguments to beat the devil. Even when we fire facing evil earthly powers, we need have no worry, because "ttib Spirit of your Father will be speakir~g in you" (Mt 10:!8-20). Like a good advocate he will prove the "opposition" wrong(see Jn 1~:9-11), by convict-ing the world ofits sinfulness and consequently of the fact that without Christ's victory the world is meaningless and lacks all ultimate purpose. In his epistle to the Romans St. Paulexplains this purifyi~ng role of the Holy Spirit by stating that the Hrly Spirit takes people who are living by "the law of sin and death" which is characterized by "the misdeeds of the body" (Rm 8:1, 13)and he makes them "spiritual": Your ~nterests. however, are not in the unspiritual, but in the spiritual. since the Spirit of God has made his home in you. In 'fact. unless you possessed the Spirit of Christ you would not belong to hire. Tl~ough your ¯ body may be dead it is because of sin; but if Christ is in you, then your spirit is life itself because you have been justified: and if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, then he who raised Jesus from the dead will give life to your own mortal bodies through his Spirit living in you (Rm 8:9-10). The Spirit does not only transform our soul and cleanse our mental habits our thoughts, our feelings, our emotions he also "spiritualizes" our bodies to prepare them for the resurrection. Our bodies became mortal "because of sin"; the cleansing from sin through Christ's "Spirit living in us" is the cause of our immortality.~ What are the spiritual transformations which the Spirit operates in our souls? St. Paul opposes the spirituality and holiness of the Old Testament and that brought about by Christ's Spirit living in us. The Spirit transforms our "spirit of slaves" livingin fear, into a "spirit of.sons" who have been "set free"(Rm 8:14-23; see 1 Jn 4:17-18). It is a new attitude with regard to the law that takes hold of us: we do right not because_ we are afraid, but because we love. On the other hand, and for the same reason, i.e. love, this freedom is never licentiousness, because we are living in the Spirit: If you are guided by the Spirit you will be in no danger of yielding to 360 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 self-indulgence, since self-indulgence is the opposite of the Spirit . . (Ga 5:16). In other words: the presence of the Spirit in us does not justify bad behav-ior, but should enable us to avoid bad behavior. Hence also Paul's claim to the Corinthians that no on~ can curse Jesus and be in the Spirit of Jesus (1 Co 12:3). Paul's whole apostolic life was dominated by his struggle to make the new converts realize this new dimension brought about by faith in Christ: an externally imposed Law is replaced by the promptings of the Spirit from within (see Ezk 36:26-27; Jr 31:33). The true Christian is doing good because the Spirit moves him from within his very freedom. Even our faith in the Gospel is the work of the Spirit and it is this faith, rather than outward observances that justify us (Ga 3:2). It is a pagan (or an Old Testament) attitude to do good or to refrain from doing evil out of fear of hell, or in order to curry God's "favors," rather than out of inner convic-tions growihg out of love. A Christian attitude stems from the Spirit within us and from our readiness to let the Spirit become active and effective in us and through us. Since the Spirit is our life. let us be directed by the Spirit. We must stop being conceited,, provocative and envious. (Ga 5:25). The Spirit which he sent to live in us wants us for himself alone (Jm 4:5); (literally: 'The Spirit. yearns, earnestly for our love'). No one who has been begotten by God sins: because God's seed remains inside him. he cannot sin when he has been begotten by God (1 Jn 3:9).2 But God will not sanctify us without us. It is from within our freedom that God acts and lives in us. We must collaborate with his promptings, for God has an infinite respect for our free will. Nor is it sufficient to have received, the Holy Spirit once and for all, like some kind of seal, medal or honorific title. He has to live in us. We have to grow in him by letting his influence in our lives become more and more continuous and pervasive. It is precisely this growth which supposes an inner cleansing. We cannot serve two master~; at the same time: one must diminish if the other is to grow. As long as our life is cluttered with worries, with sins, with ourselves, with the world, with pleasures and so forth, there is little room for God to grow in us. He is not going to sneak into our life, as we gradually clean out the house just ahead of him. We have to make a clean sweep before God arrives. But we are afraid of the apparent spiritual poverty, of the empti-ness, of the echoing hollowness within us. The Spirit gives us the courage to empty ourselves (see Ph 2:7) so.that we might experience God making irruption into our life. The blood of Christ, who offered himself as the perfect sacrifice to God The. Spirit of Holiness / 361 through the eternal Spirit, can purify our inner self from dead actions so that we do our service to the living God (Heb 9:14). In short: the first level of the Spirit's action demands, but also produ-ces an inner cleansing, a reorientation of our lives, an openness to the guidance of the Spirit and a readiness to be transformed. Without this there simply cannot be any.growth in spiritual life, because without it we are not capable of putting ourselves into a listening attitude towards God, and without_ this listening attitude there will not be that inner enlighten-. ment whereby God wants to make' himself personallY known to us. Enlightenment and Learning Si. John presents us the Holy Spirit as the'Spirit of truth: "I shall ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate3 to be with you forever, the Spirit of truth whom the world cannot receive since it neither sees nor knows him; but you know him, becauSe he is with yo.u, he is in you. [he] will teach you everything and remind you of all 1 have said to you" (Jn 14:15-16, 26). This theme of the "world" which cannot see God ,recurs often in John. The world is blind to God because it is too much concerned with other, rela, tively unimportant things. The Word of God is the true light which many people refused to receive (Jn 1:9-13). But there are also those whb, throughout the history of salvation, have let themselves be enlightened by the Spirit of God. The Holy Spirit inspired the prophets (see Lk 1:67; Ac 21:4; 28:25;.) and the writers of Scripture. He guides the lives of those he inhabits (see Lk 2:25-26) and he leads Jesus himself through his ministry (Lk 4:14, 18)oand makes him,utter prophetic words (Lk 10:21). Indeed it is the Spirit who, in the form of a dove, points at the Messiah as the voice of the Father is heard at.Jesus' baptism (Mt 3:16-17; Mk 2:10; Lk 3:21-22i Jn 1:32-34; ~1 Tm 3:16). It is by the Holy Spirit that Jesus performs his m.iracles (Mt 12:28). In short: the Holy Spirit makes us become aware of Jesus,as the Messiah and of his redemptive role. This is why the Gospels are so 6utspoken against those who "sin against the Holy Spirit" (Mt 12:32; Mk 3:28; Lk 12:10) because this sin blinds us to the revealing and illuminating role of the Holy Spirit without which we cannot reach God nor pr.ogress in holiness. ("No one can say 'Jesus is Lord' except by the Holy Spirit" 1 Co 12:3). In other words, the sin against the Holy Spirit makes God's essential work in our life, viz. our sanctification, impotent. Jesus has proclaimed the Good News to us: he is the Good News, but we are incapable of fully grasping what this means unless the .Spirit opens our eyes: It is for your own good that I am going, because unless I go, the Advocate 369/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 will not come t6 you; l~tit if I do go, I will send him to you . I still have many things to say to you, but they would be too' mucfi for you now. But " when'~the Spirit of trt~th comes he will leadyou to the complete truth, since he will not be speaking as from himselfbut will only say what he has learnt . Jn 16:7-15 (passim). ~ " ~- We clearly see the effect of the Spirit on the apostles at the moment of the Pentecost event!~ Now, the coming of the Holy Spiritdoes not imply the revelation of neff doctrines, but the creation of an inner receptivity and capacity for underst~hding the Good N~ws of Christ in a more personal way:. You have been anointed by the Holy One, and have all recei'bed the knowledge'., you do not need anyone to teach you; the anoiming he gave you teaches you everything; you are anointed with truth, not with a lie. (1 Jn 2:20, 27). Thus the Holy Spirit generates faith, the ability to listen and to hear, in us and she convicts the "world" of its basicsin of unbelief (see Jn 8:21, 24, 26; 15:22). In reverse he convinces the believers of Christ's divinity (see Jn 10:33; 19:7) because l~y returning to the Father in his human bo.dy, Jesus shows that his true home is in heaven (see .In 13~ 1; 20:17). Finally the Spirit gives to the believer the unshakable confidence in the power of God who has overcome the empire 6f evil. Thus, by revealing the glory of Christ and enabliiig us to b~elieve in Christ, he makes us listen to him who reveals to us the glory of the Father. The Acts of the Apostles have been called the "Gospel of the Holy spirit." They are full of incidents in which the Spirit illuminates the minds and heart~of~the apostles and of the believers. Let us me~'ely'mention a few of them almost at random. He gives to the believers the gift of speech in foreign tohgues (Ac 2:4), he inspires the words of the apostles (Ac 4:8.31), he gives Stephen an, irresistible power of argumentation against his detrac-tors (Ac 6:10) as Jesus himself had predicted (Mk 13:11; Lk 12:H-12). On several occasions the Spirit gives people the ability of predicting the future (Ac 21i,~; 11:28); he guides the decisions of the Church in admitting pagans (Ac-8:29, 40; ~10:19, 44-47; 11:12-16; 15:8),'in limiting the relevance of the Jewish laff (Ac 15:28) and in determining the mission of Paul to the pagans (Ac 13:2 sq; 16:6-7; 19:1). Occasionally he gives very precise g~uidelines for th~ apostolate (Ac 8:28). But ~bove all the Holy Spirit reveals himself internally to those who receive him, usually in baptism, by giving them the power of praising God in words-inspired by God himself [the gift of tongues](see Rm 8:26-27; Ac 9:31; 10:44; 19:1-7.). Indeed one could say that the Holy Spirit was clearly the power behind the expansion of the ~early Church. The Spirit of Holiness / 363 This power is usually revealed and released in a prayerful atmosphere. Throughout Acts, one gets the impression of a people moving about in an inner spiritual dynamism, open to God, ready to expect any kind of mira-cles. Of course they are_ ordinary human beings like you and me. They sometimes become almost obsessively enthusiastic (like the Corinthians), while others (like the Gala~tians) remain fearfully attached to traditions. In this they do not differ all that much from the Churchof today! But there does seem to be a genuine desire throughout the early Church to let the Spirit rule the life of the faithful. St. Paul himself tells us that he is not bothered by his weakness, precisely because he" knows that he can always let ttie Spirit and the power of God Speak and pray in and through him (Rm 8:26-27). He knows that he is not preaching his own ideas nor by his own power, but by the power of God (1 CO 2:3) and that "the Spirit reaches the' depth of evet:ything, even the depth of God" (1 Co 2:10). This is why he chides Timothy for his timidity: God's gilt was not a spirit of timidity, but the Spirit of power, and love. and self-control (2 Tm 1:7).~ And~just as the Spirit give~'to the preacher the words to preach, to the prophet the message to proclaim and to the teacher the doctrine to teach, so also he gives to the listeners the inner .power to understand with heart and mind, and the wisdom to apply what has been taught in their personal life: May the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of ~lory, g~ve you a spirit of wisdom and perception of what is revealed, to bring you to full knowledge of him (Ep 1:17,). Out of his infinite glory, may he give'you the power through his Spii'it for your hidden self to grow strong, so that Christ .may live in you through faith, and then, planted in love and built on love. you will with all the saints have strength to grasp the breadth and the length, the height and the depth . (Ep 3:16-19). By thus gradually growing, in God's wisdom, we will be filled with the '~utter fullness of Ggd" (ibid v. l~J). ,, But God ca~ only fill us with his wisdom, !f we have let ourselves be emptied of the wisdom of the "~orld." Hence,the purification stage.must precede and will itself grow in _proportion to the gradual~growth in "enlightenment." We can only grow "little by little" (Ws 12: !-2). Secondly we mus~ play our fa,irt by taking a humble, listening and receptive attitude in sile~ace ~nd. patience. And thirdly, the Holy Spir!t comes to each one of us personally, but always within the context of and for the sake of the whole Church, the Body of Christ (see 1 Co 14), because "God is Love" and v~hatever he does in us and through us,~in on13~ take place within a 364 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 love-relationship, This is why love is the greatest commandment, but also the greatest of all gifts of the Spirit: the gift which not only includes all others, but also the only one which is to remain forever (1 Co 13). We 'do not receive the Holy Spirit for our exclusive personal enjoyment, but for sharing him with others through apostolic action. As Jesus says to his apostles: You will r~ceive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you, and t~en you will be my'witnesses (Ac 1:8). More than half the passages in the Acts which speak about the Holy Spirit mention him in a directly apostolic context. This is also why the Holy Spirit is presented in such an intimate relationship with the Church that Peter can say: "It has been decided by the Holy Spirit and by ourselves." (Ac 13:28), while the Book of Revelation affirms: "The Spirit and the Bride [= the Church] say: 'Come'"-(Rv 22:17). A final point worth mentioning in the present context: If it is true that the illumination by the Spirit is proportional to our emptying ourselves of our own ideas, then it is easily understandable why the poor in spii-it are given preference in the kingdom of heaven (Mt 5:3),~ why "these things" have been hidden frrm the worldly wise and revealed to children (Mt 11:25) and why only children can enter the kingdom of heaven (Mt 18: !-4). Union in Love The Christian religion is not merely an ethics, i.e. a list of actions to be done or avoided. Jesus' struggle with the Pharisees (see Mt 5:17 sq and 23:13-32), as well as St. Paul's arguments to show the powerlessness of the Law to save us (e:g. Rm I-7) are proof enough of this. Nor is Christianity merely a beautiful doctrine dogmatically proclaimed a~d faithfully but blindly accepted: If I knew all the mysteries and all science, and if I had the fullness of faith. but without love, lam nothing (! Co 13:2). God wants to call us to a new life. I~e wants to change our identity from within, not merely our mode of external behavior. He wants us to be reborn "through water and the'Spirit'' (Jn 3:5) so as to enable us to enter into the kingdom of heaven. It is through the Spirit of Goal that this "rebirth" as children of God takes place: The Spirit himself and our spirit bear united witness that we are children of God. And if we are children we are heirs as well: heirs of God and coheirs with Christ, sharing his 'suffering so as to share in his glory (Rm 8:!4-17; see Ga 4:6~7). The Spirit is our passport for our new. "ciiizenship," because we have been The Spirit of Holiness / 365 stamped with the seal of the Holy Spirit of the promise, the pledge of our inheritance which brings freedom to those whom God has taken for his own to make his glory praised (Ep 1:13-14). Of course in this life we still know God only "dimly, as in a mirror" (1 Co 13:12), and yet e~,en in this limited way, God already reveals himself to us from within, from his presence in us through the Spirit: We know that he lives in us by the Spirit that he has given us (! Jn 3:24). We can know that we are li~ing in him and he is living in us, because he lets us share his Spirit (! .In 4:13). The Spirit is .an" experienced reality. Even the places and buildings where the early Church was gathering "were shaken" when they were "filled with the Holy Spirit" (Ac 4:3 I) and the Holy Spirit is often described as "falling on" people (Ac 10:44; 11:15). It is like falling in love: it is an experience difficult to explain to someone who has never experienced it. The kingdom of God is therefore not merely something to be expected in the life to come. We are already living in this kingdom, which can be identified with equal right with the Holy Spirit and with the Church, provided the Church is not merely seen as an administrative structure. St. Paul refers to our transformation into children of God as something already realized: We were buried with [Christ] in baptism [and we]'have been raised up with him" (Col 2:12-13). However, this new reality demands, right here and now, a new mode of life: Put off your old nature which belongs to your former manner of life. and be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and put on the new nature, created after the likeness of God iri true righteousness and holiness (Ep 4:22-24). We are incorporated into the Spirit (Rm 8:1, 9. We are "temples of God"( 1 Co 3:16; 6:19). We have been 'Zraised up with Christ" (Col 3:1). It is for this reason that all "Paul's moral instructions are so severe. Moral instructions and calls to holiness are one and the same for Paul, and they center, as .one can expect, on the two commandments of love of God and~ love of neighbor. Because of the Spirit dwelling in us, we are able to love God and to love our neighbor with the same kind of love with which God himself loves us: The love of God is poured out into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who is given to us (Rm 5:5). The first thing that changes in our new, Spirit-filled life, is our relation- ~166 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 ship with God in prayer: The book of Genesis tells u.s .of Enoch~ who was livinga life of such 'intimacy with God that he was absorbed into God, that he vanished in him (Gn 5:24). The original familiarity with God as des-cribed in paradise is re,stored. We learn to relate to God truly a~ our Father because ,"God has Se.nt the Spirit of hi~ Son into our hearts crying 'A~bba! Father!'" (Ga 4:6; .see Rm 8:26). Our ~vorship is no longer tied to places, times, rituals, and'words, but becomes "worship in0 spirit a.n~d in truth (b~ecause) God is °soirit" (Jn 4:24). Above' all, our worship ~s no longer dominated by fear because ° love will come ~o perfection in us when we can face the day of judgment without fear; because eVen in this worm we have 'become as he is. In love ~there is no fear', but fear is driven out by perfect love" (1 J'n 4:17-18; she "~ Rm 8~21~29)~ So to pray in the Spirit of God (see Ep 6:18) means to pray in an attitude of fearless love: God is love and anyone who lives in love lives in God and God lives in him (l Jn 4:16).~ This means thaLGod lives in us-and we live in him, but also that as a result weare transformed into God's essentially loving nature. This transforma, tion will not only reveal itself in our relationship with God, but also in our relationship with our fellowman. We are living a lie if we claim to love God, to be a child of God, while not loving our neighbor: We can ,be sure that we are in God only when the one who claims to be living in him is living the same kind of life as Christ lived (1 Jn 2:5-6). Now God's love for us was revealed when God sent into ,the world his' only Son so that we could have life through him . Since God loved us' so much~ we, too should love one another . As long as we love one another, God will live in us ~'nd h~s love will be complete in us. (I Jn 4:10-12). This whole,newdoving relationship is planted inu~ by the Holy Spirit living in us and e.nabling us to grow in him and thus to become more and more ,like Christ whose .Spirii he is. ¯ If we live by the truth .and in love, we shall "grow in all ways into- Christ ~, who is the head by whom:the whole body is fitted and joined together. "~ So the body grows until it has built itself up in love (Ep 4:15-16):~ . This body,,building itself up and. growing in love, is the Church. This is also why the gifts and charisms are to be used for "the common good" (see 1 Co 12:7; 14:3r4, 26) and are of no account without the cha,rity which~gives The Spirit of Holiness / 367 them meaning (1 Co 13). Jesus wanted us to be perfect "as our heavenly Father is perfect" (Mt 5:48) and he summarizes the whole Law and the Prophets in the commandments of love (Mt 22:40). Our growth in perfec, tion can therefore only be a growth in this twofold, love and this growth is essentially God's work because we have been chosen by the prox)ident purpose of God the Father to be made holy by the Spirit, obedient to Jesus Christ and sprinkled by his blood (I P 1:2). The lives of the Saints are beautiful illustrations of this powerful and effective dwelling of the Holy Spirit in the soul. In all their differences, they have struggled through these three stages of growth in holiness. Some have put more emphasis, on their sinfulness and on the need for inner purifica-tion; others have spent most of their life trying to penetrate deeper and deeper into the knowledge of the mysteries of God, not only with their intellect but with their heart and their whole being: All have been led towards a life of intimate

Issue 42.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1983. ; Trends and Issues in Spirituality, 1983 The Service of Religious Authority Negative Feelings--Positive Growth Volume 42 Number 2 March/April, ~983 R~v~J~w t:OR Rt~l.~(;~otJs I ISSN 0034-639X). published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. RJ~v~!v,' t:o~ R~qt.~(;IotJs is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus. St. I.ouis. MO. © 1983 by R~v~t~w FOR Rt-zl.~t;Iot~s. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year Ipostage). For subscription orders or change of address, write: Rl.:v~l.:w ~'oR R~:u(;tot~s: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor March/April, 1983 Volume 42 Number 2 Manuscripts, hooks for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REv~v:w I,oR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be senl Io Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; Cily Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW I-'OR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from Universily Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbur, MI 48106. Priorities for Religious Pio Laghi Archbishop Laghi is Apostolic Delegate to t~ae United States. His delegation is located at 3339 Massachusetts Ave., N.W.: Washington, DC 20008. This article is the text of his homily at the joint meeting of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious and the Conference of Major Superiors of Men, held last August in San Francisco. With great personal interest I have been looking forward to this opportun-ity to lead you in eucharistic prayer and to reflect upon priorities for specially consecrated members of the Christian community. Today's readings provide an indispensable framework for this reflection. While they speak of priorities essential to any form of Christian life, they tell us in.a special way of the priorities of religious life: to respond wholeheartedly to God's call; and to respond by word and witness, equally without reservation, to the pressing hunger--the "famine"---for God's word which is as real today as in the time of Amos. Total Includes Permanent Religious !ife is essentially a total gift of self to the plan of God and to the service of his love, so that it is properly called a total "consecration." You know this well, but you know also that your commitment is renewed and strengthened by reflecting constantly on its meaning. What, then, do we mean by this total consecration which is sealed by religious vows? Everything great is final. All life-determining commitments are irrevocable. Not because they cannot be taken back (plainly they can) but because, making such commitments, we define ourselves as persons and so establish the parameters of success and failure, of generosity and selfishness, not merely for our lives but for our very selves. One of the worst aberrations of our times is the idea that one can be a religious--or a priest or a spouse--for a time. This is the very denial of the gift. 161 162 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 Those who adopt this attitude lend themselves but they do not give themselves. "What is essential in the religious vow," says Father Danielou, "is precisely that, by a definitive commitment, you are expressing this profound desire of being totally in the service of God in regard to all the eventualities of radical doubt, of questioning, and of temptation." One might say that in totally handing over his or her life to God, the religious makes with him a permanent bridge, a stable pact, a perpetual alliance. Total Includes Detachment and Attachment The words of Jesus make it clear that this total gift of self involves a two-fold movement: first, setting aside--detaching oneself from--whatever is an obstacle to the girl; second, a continuing act of positive response to the invitation--"Come back and follow me." The rich young man balked at the first step; many do. But it is possible to take this step, yet hang back from the second--"Come back and follow me." It is a permanent challenge for each religious, as for each priest and each Christian, always to renew in the context of daily life this determination to entrust one's destiny and one's self totally to God. Pride hinders us, but there is a more subtle hindrance than pride: the belief, of which we may not b'e fully conscious, that our own insight and discernment are superior--because seemingly more efficacious or even more virtuous--to the imperatives of Christ's summons as mediated to us through the particular way of life to which he has called us. Beyond detachment, one might say, lies abandonment. To take the first step but not the second is to travel only part of the way God wishes us to go. Religious Life as Witness Another fundamental point:the first function of religious life is to wit-ness- Znot to what men and women are capable of, but to what God is capable of. There are many ways of expressing this. Pope Paul Vl, in Evangelii Nunti-andi, put it with special beauty: All evangelizers--and therefore all religious-- he says, are called to be servants of the truth, not merely by speaking of abstract intellectual truth, but.by living and witnessing to God and the things of God "as if they could see the invisible" (Evangelii Nuntiandi, 76). How else, in times of spiritual famine, shall we respond to that hunger of which Amos speaks, the "famine. for hearing the word of the Lord"?. One cannot give what one does not have. "At the deepest level of their being," Pope Paul tells us, "[religious] are caught up in the dynamism of the Church's life, which is ~'hirsty for the divine Absolute and called to holiness. It is to this holiness that they bear witness" (Evangelii Nuntiandi, 69). Men and women are capable of much that is admirable: of courage and generosity, for example. But what is unique to sanctitY--and to religious life in its role of giving witness--is that it is not the work of men and women, but of the Spirit of God. Sanctity is not humanity at a high level of excellence. It is a radical leap, nothing less than our participation in divine life. Because it is not Priorities for Religious / 163 humanly ostentatious, it speaks all the more powerfully. "Being a challenge to the world and to the Church herself," Pope Paul remarks, "this silent witness of poverty and abnegation, of purity and sincerity, of self-sacrifice in obe-dience, can become an eloquent witness" (Evangelii Nuntiandi, 69). Priorities for Religious It is a joy for me to verify the presence and the dynamic activity of so many religious, men and women, in this country--all together about 160,000. They dedicate their lives, not for a time but forever, to God and to the People of God. They are "authentic witnesses of the Gospel," irreplaceable "workers" of evangelization, the most powerful "sign of total availability to God, to the Church, and to the brethren" (Evangelii Nuntiandi, 69). Prayer Among the priorities that 1 see for religious in this country, then, is the effort to ensure that prayer is an attitude toward life, so that prayer and life mutually enrich each other. This implies that prayer will lead religious to involve themselves in real life, while real-life experiences call .for intense moments of prayer. Today, as we know, along with the necessary quest for personal prayer, there is a strong concern for community prayer, for sharing one's experience of the faith, growing in one's insight into the evangelical imperatives dictated by one's circumstances, applying the events of the history of salvation, as related in Scripture, to the events of today. How important, too, that religious remain faithful to the sacramental life in its totality. There is no religious life--as there is no sanctity--apart from the Eucharist. Religious life is the expan.sion, the living out, of those energies which the Eucharist develops and nourishes in us. Our prayer must further-more be, visible and a source of encouragement to others; and this is possible through the liturgy, well prepared, well conducted, and well shared. The Social Dimension Another priority arises from awareness that the message we profess and communicate has not only a theological dimension but a social dimension. We preach a Gospel which frees men and women from sin in its roots and manifes-tations. We therefore preach and promote the human dignity and divine filiation of every human being. Preferential Option for the Poor This points to still another priority: the preferential option for the poor. Today religious increasingly find themselves in difficult, marginalized situa-tions: caring for the sick, helping those in need, promoting the rights of victims of discrimination, carrying on humble and self-sacrificing labors of many kinds. This option does not imply thb exclusion of anyone--the spiritual 164 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 poverty of our contemporary counterparts of the rich young man makes that clear--but it does call for a preference for the oppressed and victimized, and a constant effort to draw closer to them. This preferential option has led religious, and not only religious, to reex-amine traditional works in order to respond better to the requirements of evangelization. It has also shed a clearer light on the relationship between religious life and the poverty of the dispossessed. Beyond interior detachment and community austerity, it implies solidarity with the poor, often expressed by sharing wi~h them their conditions of life. At the same time, while adhering to this option, it is necessary to avoid certain dangers--a lack of adequate preparation, a lack of personal maturity, or a lack of evangelical motivation. At the very least these can imperil the preferential option by causing it to be misinterpreted. Hispanic Involvement There is another priority about which I also feel strongly. It concerns the presence, already substantial and rapidly growing, of so many Hispanics in the United States--their large number (almost twenty-five percent of our Cathol-ics), their religious and human values, their need for full acceptance in the Church and society. In their recent joint pastoral letter, th~ Hispanic bishops of the United States spoke of the "constant rejection" which has been "part of [the] daily life" of their people. Nevertheless, they said, "our parents taught us to love the United ~tates, although the struggle has been difficult. Our people have always struggled to improve themselves. We love the peace founded on truth, justice, love and freedom . We have not taken up arms against our country but instead have defended it. We have fought to eliminate the injusti-ces that rule our lives. The road has been long and difficult, littered with many obstacles, but we have made progress and will continue ahead with firmness and determination" ( The Bishops Speak with the Virgin: A Pastoral Letter of the Hispanic Bishops of the U.S., 1982). Yet, in the words of a Spanish-speak-ing priest of Texas, "there is a certain tendency to look upon the Hispanics as an unavoidable problem. But rejoice and appreciate us. as God's life-bear-ing gift, not only for the enrichment but even for the salvation of our Church and of our world." I recall something T.S. Eliot once said: No one is truly educated unless he or she knows a second language. These are wise words. Only then can one know what it means to be laughed at as one gropes for the right word or stumbles over its pronunciation. Truly, to know another language--in this case, Spanish--is to work for the coming of the kingdom of God and for the service of our brothers and sisters. Integration of Religious into Local and Universal Church A final priority concerns the integration of religious into the life of the local churches and the universal Church. Here, of course, a balance is essential. It Priorities for Religious / 165 was once said that religious life "has no other end but to be at the service of the priest." Plainly, however, religious must defend the specific character of their vocation against attempts, however well intentioned, simply to use them for fulfilling the immediate needs of parishes and dioceses. At the same time, though, there is another side to this coin. Individual religious, as well as their communities, must take special care to be in deep and sincere unity with the Vicar of Christ and with the orientations he gives, especially those which concern religious life or interpret the charisms of the founders of any religious institute. The same applies to their relationship with bishops. As a matter of priority, the norms contained in the Holy See's document Mutuae Relationes should be implemented in order that religious life be fully integrated into the life of the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church. Conclusion Permit me, in concluding, to quote words of Pope John Paul II which draw together many of the themes upon which I have touched. Speaking last May to religious men and women of England and Wales, the Holy Father ob-served that although "to most people you are known for what you do," never-theless "your true greatness., comes from what you are," and that can only be understood "in the light of the 'newness of life' revealed by the Risen Lord." "At some time in your lives," he said, "the call of the Lord to a special intimacy and union with him in his redemptive mission became so clear that you overcame your hesitations. You put aside your doubts and difficulties and committed yourselves to a life of total fidelity to the highest ideals of the Gospel. Your free decision was sustained by grace, and your perseverance through the years is a magnificent testimony to the victory of grace over the forces that struggl~ to tarnish the newness of. your life in Christ . "'l~oday there exists a wid~pread~mptation to unbeliEfanddespair. You, on the other hand, are committed to being men and women of deep faith and unceasing prayer. To you in a particular way may be addressed Saint Paul's exhortation to Timothy: 'Fight the good fight of the faith: take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses' (1 Tm 6:12). "Believe in the Risen Lord. Believe in your own personal vocation. Believe that Christ called you because he loves you. In moments of darkness and pain, believe that he loves you all the more. Believe in your mission within the Church. Let your faith shine before the world, as a lamp in the darkness; let it shine as a beacon that will guide a confused society to the proper appreciation of essential values. May the spiritual joy of your personal lives, and your com-munal witness of authentic Christian love, be a source of inspiration and hope" (Address to Men and Women Religious of England and Wales, May 29, 1982). Religious Life in the Young Churches Jan Snijders, S.M. At the end of 1981, Fr. Snijders finished his term in the general administration of his congrega-tion and has enjoyed a sabbatical for the past year. Presently he is lecturing in philosophy at the interdiocesan seminary of Papua, wfiere his address is: Marist College, Bomana: P.O. Box 1101 ; Boroko; Papua, New Guinea. ~n a periodical that aims at providing a forum for theological and spiritual reflection on religious life one does not have to underline the importance of religious life, and the case of tile Young Churches is not so different as to warrant an exception. The entire Church has become missionary (or should have). The contribution of religious to the mission of the Church and espe-cially their religious consecration itself are to manifest in all churches, young and old, that "the kingdom of God is at hand" (AG, 18; LG, 44). While pontifical and conciliar documents are eloquent on the subject of fostering religious life in the Young Churches, they are prudently vague on how this should be done, on who should do so and on the forms that religious life should take. Religious superiors too are probably very wise to keep things out of the limelight. Growth and adaptation are processes of a delicate nature. Premature publicity and interventions could easily do more harm than good. All of this may explain why so little is being written by private observers or scholars on the~ founding of local re!igious institutes and on the spreading of international institutes in the Young Churches. Still these things are taking place everywhere and a few general remarks can be of use to people trying to make responsible decisions. Are Local Foundations Preferable? Among the many connected questions there is one that especially observers in the "old" churches often bring up: ls it not better to leave the field to local 166 Religious Life in the Young Churches / 167 foundations so that religious life from the beginning can be thoroughly Afri-can, Indian, or whatever the case may be? Before proposing elements of a possible answer we must note that, as a matter of fact, local sisterhoods have been founded nearly everywhere and many are flourishing. Local lay institutes of men are much less numerous, and rare are those that can be said to flourish; in fact, one does not have to be very widely informed to know of several that after the first generation of members have ceased to exist. Practically nonexistent are clerical institutes founded in the Young Churches, with a very few, but notable exceptions. If the long-distance observer's concern for the "contextualization" of reli-gious life is praiseworthy, the assumption that it has a better chance in local institutes is debatable. For every case that substantiates the assumption there may be one that disproves it! Admittedly, a local community is never under pressure from faraway higher superiors to conform to rules and customs that originated in different cultures. But, even so, their first models of religious life were necessarily expatriates and the spontaneous desire of local religious communities to imitate foreign patterns may be a more effective force against what outsiders might conceive of as "contextualization" than pressure of higher superiors possibly could be. Conversely, local members of an interna-tional group are just as likely to carve out an identity of their own by insisting on local adaptations. In any case, those distant higher superiors who sup-posedly insist on foreign rules will in many cases prove to be either mythical figures or memories of a past that has disappeared many years ago! There are good reasons for local institutes, but "contextualization" is a doubtful one. A recent Roman document extolled (and perhaps exaggerated) the value of international religious institutes.~ In any case their importance cannot be doubted: they are able to respond to needs and opportunities across the globe; they provide spiritual renewal where local means fail; they form a network of communion and unity where local Churches become excessively particular; they carry a rich spiritual heritage and have the resources to revitalize it. If in the older churches local communities successfully work alongside of local branches of international ones, it would seem a little patronizing to doubt that this could be so in the Young Churches. Moreover, international institutes allow the Young Churches to take part in fbreign missionary activity (AG, 38). ¯ Local communities have advantages that 1 shall mention further on, but they also have to cope with disadvantages. It is not fair to .demand that local ordinaries (such communities usually are of diocesan right) always manage to strike a perfect balance between rightful concern and respect for internal autonomy. But it means that especially small lay communities at times suffer under interference from one bishop, only to be neglected by his successor.2 Local communities often were founded by a missionary or a bishop to respond to immediate and urgent needs. One cannot expect all founding fathers or mothers to be saints or spiritual giants. With the passing of time needs change and the initial inspiration dries up. For institutes to be flexible 161~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 and to retain spiritual vigor they need somehow to stay in contact with one of the great spiritual traditions of the Church. For the large orders and congrega-tions it must therefore always be a sacred duty to assist small communities without infringing on their autonomy and identity. "Planning" For The Spirit Much more complicated are the questions that arise when we look at the implantation of international religious orders and congregations. Granting that, in principle, there is a place for them in the Young Churches, one still has to ask whether it is opportune to do so, and under what conditions. But before tackling those questions a more basic one must be answered, namely whether such,matters can and must be "planned" at all. Shouldn't one leave things entirely to the free movements of the Spirit who calls whom he chooses, where he chooses? The religious vocation is an indix~idual gift of God and the receiver has an inalienable right to follow the call of the Lord. The task of superiors, ecclesias-tical and religious, can only be to discern, to respect and to encourage the movements of the Spirit in the hearts of people who feel themselves called. Granted this point of departure, it still remains a fact that God's call usually leads the receiver to ask admission in a particular community, and then the superiors concerned have a right and a duty to decide whether it is for the good of the candidate and of the community to accept her or him. And, in a place where that particular community is not firmly established, that is bound to be a delicate question, especially if it concerns a single applicant, or a very small number. Unless a community is going to be firmly established among the people from whom the applicants come, accepting them carries the risk that they will pass their religious lives as strangers, either permanently in a foreign country or as the lonely locally-born among foreign fellow religious in their own country. Of course people may be called to do just that, but it demands a high measure of psychological balance, of personal maturity, and of spiritual depth. Unless these gifts are clearly present, superiors may have to conclude that the candidate is not called to such an exceptional life. The fact that candidates ask for admission may lead the community to attempt a permanent foundation in their country. Conversely, candidates can be accepted, and even sought, in view of a planned foundation. Whatever the case may be, the decision to establish the order or the congregation in a new country is distinct from the decision to accept a few individual candidates, even if one thing will eventually lead to the other. We have two separate decisions, each to be made on its own merits, and not necessarily by the same people. For one thing, accepting candidates is the responsibility of religious superiors only; starting a foundation needs the agreement of ecclesiastical superiors. My conclusion is that, while we must respectfully follow the movements of the Spirit, we cannot abandon prudent "planning," i.e., weighing changes and consequences whenever candidates are to be admitted and foundations in the Religious ~fe in the Young Churches / 169 Young Churches are considered. The Spirit also asks responsible decision making. Reasons to Hesitate I have started from the assumption that it is not self-evident that all religious orders and congregations should attempt to begin foundations every-where in the Young Churches. I have argued that the matter must not be confused with the question of eventually admitting a few individual candidates but also that, on the whole, there is a place for international institutes within the Young Churches. So why, the initial assumption? Foi several centuries missionary activity Was organized around the so-called ius commissionis whereby missionary territories were entrusted to a missionary or religious institute. This means that usually only one clerical institute was present in a given area and only a very few lay institutes, often in some way related to the ~lerical institute to which the mission was entrusted. Naturally, local candidates to the religious life would usually enter either a local community founded on the spot, or the international institute working there. Now, the former mission territories have gradually become dioceses in their own right, the ius commissionis has disappeared, and a healthy diversifi-cation of missionary and religious institutes has taken the place of the earlier "monopolies." It can now no longer be self-evident that a religious institute will found itself wherever it helps founding the Church. And there can be very good reasons why in certain cases it should not do so. The main reason for this view is the one discreetly hinted at by the Bishops' Conference of Senegal and Mauritania in a Declaration on the Vocational Apostolate of 1978.3 The bishops ask that "in a spirit of generosity, dispersion be avoided." Let us look at this idea of "dispersion." We must admit that life in an intercultural setting is demanding. Generally speaking, people can be expected to feel and to function better at home, and to show a healthier growth among people of their own culture (one advantage of local foundations!). The prob-lems of intercultural communities are still not rod difficult if the "mixture" of cultures is balanced but they become more serious for a small minority in a group that for the rest is solidly of one race, nationality or language. Especially for young people the problems this poses can be nearly insurmountable. The consequences are obvious wherever one is dealing with small Catholic populations. ! do not know of any study that has come to firm conclusions on the question of how many vocations can reasonably be expected to come from a given Catholic population. The variations according to country and period of history are considerable, but clearly there are limits. If the religious voca-tions of a small Catholic population are spread over a disproportionate number of religious institutes, then many of the locally-born religious will for-ever be minorities among the foreign missionaries. "171~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 Will those religious be able to cope with the stresses of this situation? Will, in the communities that have such minorities, the groups of local people ever grow large enough to reach what could be called "critical mass," i.e., a group large enough to spark creativity and lead to genuine indigenization of religious life? Finally, what happens if the international institute has to withdraw from the country, for lack of vocations at home, for political reasons, or whatever? Will the few locally-born members leave with the foreigners? Will they be left stranded by themselves? The situation is far from imaginary. One example may illustrate what dispersion can look like. Before the war eleven clerical religious orders and congregations entered Japan. In 1981.all but one had Japanese priests among their members. Between 1947 and 1958 sixteen other clerical institutes followed them into Japan and in 1981 twelve of those had Japanese priests among their members, in the following proportions and absolute members:4 Entered Before the War Entered After the War 87.5% = 21out of 24a 71.1% = 4 out of 7 84 %= 21 out of 25 31%=9out of 29 82.6% = 43 out of 52 28.5%=4out of 14 78.9%= 15 out of 19 25 %= 3outof12 50 %= 4out of g 21.4%= 3out of 14 44.8% = 78 out of 174 20.8% = 5 out of 24 43.3% = 39 out of 90 20 %=2outofl0 43.1%=41 out of 95 19 %=8out of 42 33.8% = 91 out of 277 17.3% = 4 out of 23 9.4%= 5outof 53 I1.1%= 1 outof 9 ai.e. 21 Japanese priests 6.6% = I out of 15 out of 24 priests in 3.1% = 2 out of 64 Japan In all but one of the pre-war set the Japanese priests are in the majority or form substantial and viable minorities. In the post-war set the Japanese members are, both proportionately and in absolute numbers, in far from promising situations. It cannot be without significance that.for the same year the institutes of the first set mention that they have together 83 members studying for the priestho6d, respectively (in the same order as above): 0, 1,9, I, 0, 8, 19, ! 1, 25, 9. The institutes of the second set register together eleven students, spread over four institutes. The other eight have none at all. It is not reasonable to expect the picture to change substantially. Already the vocation rate in Japan is "exceptionally high (but going down): more than 850 Japanese priests (diocesan and regular) in a Catholic population of about 400,000. The rate is still higher if we take into account the preponderance of Japanese women over men in the Church. Similar dispersion could probably be registered among lay religious in Japan. The clear division between pre-war and post-war entries is perhaps particu-lar to Japan but it must be far from the only place where serious dispersion is taking place. Unfortunately very few places have such splendid publications as Religious Life in the Young Churches / 171 the Japan Catholic Directory and reliable information is scarce. A Matter of Criteria If there is a place in the new churches for international religious institutes but not everywhere for all of them, choices must be made and criteria are needed: What factors constitute reasons for or against an eventual foundation? Firstly, we must take into account what has already been said about the danger of dispersion: What is the size of the Catholic population and how many institutes already exist among them? Is there room for more? Or is the area "saturated"?. One does not need hard and fast rules to make a prudent assessment. Secondly, an institute must take stock of its resources for the formation of eventual candidates. Wouldn't it be presumptuous to admit candidates if one does not have the personnel and the means to offer them a good spiritual and professional formation? And it cannot be assumed that a solid formation can ordinarily be given by sending young people to a foreign country, or by entrusting them to formators who are not familiar with the candidates' culture. The fact that this has been done in the past and that it has been known to succeed does not ~jusify doing it on a general scale: The failure of those experi-ments cannot be overlooked. Faced with the decision whether or not to seek and admit candidates, an-institute must honestly ask itself, especially today, if it has the personnel to maintain an adequate presence in the host country for a long enough period of time. A careful look at how long it has taken new provinces in the past to reach "cruising speed" and assure self-sustained growth can help to make an intelli-gent guess. By way of target figure l would propose that a clerical institute must reckon with a good twenty-five years before the local religious can reasonably be expected to carry on withou( substantial outside support. Lay institutes may not need that much time. The already mentioned Declaration of the Bishops of Senegal and Mauri-tania says that an institute should have a substantial presence in the country. But what is "substantial"?. I am inclined to think that their presence can just as easily be too big as too small. The founding community must of course be large enough to show diversity of talents and personalities. Each person's weaknesses must be balanced out by the strengths of others and candidates must be presented with an ample range of models. But if the founding com-munity gets a little too large then the chances are that it lacks buoyancy and that it has too many other interests besides founding. Especially important is the minoriO, effect. In a large group of expatriates the locally-born religious remain for too long a minority; the foreigners' ways remain normative; locals waste their energy fighting for room and their creativity is not given enough scope. The last point varies with the way the founding group is composed. If all are of the same home country, the minority effect on the locals is all the more stifling. Any group of people of the same background, living together in 172 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 a foreign country, tends to cultivate their common memories and cultural traits more than they ever would at home. In spite of the most noble intentions they often are, unwittingly, quite intolerant of local ways. An international group on the contrary that has proved to be able to function together has great advantages--the locals soon find their own niche. The minority effect is mini-mized: everyone is a minority, thus no one is. A religious community that believes in its spiritual heritage naturally seeks to expand. This general framework however can carry incidental traits that provide important indications as to the viability of an eventual "implantation" project. A missionary group actually engaged in one of the Young Churches, seeing that no replacements or reinforcements can be expected from the home province or the order as a whole, turns to local vocations in the hope of ensuring the continuity of its works. But this complex of attitudes must raise doubts about their ability to take in local vocations. Are they not too much preoccupied with their past achievements? Does the search for security not play too large a role? ls the specifically "religious" commitment central enough in their lives? Religious communities and superiors in the older churches that see the former flow of vocations dry up can be tempted by tales of plentiful vocations in some faraway place (even if true). Add a touch of cultural romanticism about our "decadent Western civilization" and about "the spiritual youth of unsophisticated people" and the scene is set for another unfortunate experi-ment. It may sound harsh but the general rule should be that religious who do not project their enthusiasm at home and who do not attract young people of their own culture to follow them, should not attempt to do so either among young people of another culture. This is not a matter of inviting negative comments on the motivations of religious either at home or in the foreign missions, but simply a matter of objective appraisal of their suitability to undertake a particularly demanding task. These criteria add up to a formidable list! No situation is ever going to be hundred-per-cent perfect. Still, the community that accepts young members in a new country takes on a grave responsibility. The picture as a whole must be fairly favorable to justify going ahead. It is not the kind of project that asks for bold ,risks: The generosity of young people and the future of religious life in the emerging churches is at stake. Conclusion Religious institutes belong to the life of the Church. They provide their members with ways to follow Christ. Religious discover in their own lives and show others that the kingdom of God is at work here and now. Every culture, like every individual, is in need of conversion.5 Therefore religious institutes should be present in all the churches in the diversity that is part of their charism (PC, 1; ND, I1, 12, 29). But unless this program is implemented with great care, we risk defeating our purpose and Religious ~fe in the Young Churches / "173 people of good will would suffer the consequences. This article does not pretend to have touched on all the aspects of religious life in the New Churches. It will have attained its goal if the problems involved receive a little more attention and, when choices are to be made, problems would be discussed in realistic and open exchange. NOTES ~ Directives for the Mutual Relations between Bishops and Religious, 23rd of April 1978 signed by Paul VI. Quoted as "ND.". -'See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. 1980, pp. 122-123. ~ Dbclaration des Evbques du Sbnbgal et de la Mauritanie sur la Pastorale des Vocations, Dakar, 13 July, 1978, p. 4. 4These figures are based on information contained in the Japan Catholic Director.v, 1981, with minor adjustments where different tables did not quite agree. 5Cardinal Pironio, Message aux Religieux et Religieuses d'Afrique, Informationes SCRIS, 1978, II, p. 279. NOW AVAILABLE From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions land II by Patricia Spillane, M.S.C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Currents in Spirituality A God for a Dark Journey: Trends and Issues in Spirituality, 1983 George Aschenbrenner, S.J. This is Father Aschenbrenner's fourth annual survey of the field of spirituality. He now resides in St. Alphonsus House, a residence for Jesuits at St. Joseph's University. The address is 5800 Overbrook Ave.; Philadelphia, PA 1913 I. This is the fourth in a series of articles--appearing annually--which the editor asked for with a view to exploring and reflecting upon currents in American spirituality. Last year's articlO gave extensive space to a description of the larger context and environment within which, in my judgment, the spiritual trends an~d issues discussed were developing. That major influence and context, within which all American spiritual life is being lived, was seen to be secularization--rapid, continuing secularization. The lengthy first part of last year's article sought clearly to distinguish between what it viewed as a necessary and very healthy dynamic--seculariza-tion- from its pervasive and very destructive alternative--secularism. This present article is, fundamentally, a continuation of last year's perspective and approach. It directly assumes and builds further upon that reflection on secu-larization and secularism. I would suggest, then, that the reader may be helped to read the opening sections of last year's article. I take this approach because I remain persuaded that, from many different angles, there continues to be a concern and struggle in American spirituality to balance on the tightrope of this secularizing trend in our contemporary faith life while avoiding the easy missteps that lead, whether gradually or abruptly, into secularism. Besides the overarching theme of secularization, the concrete, specific trends and issues themselves which are reflected on here also relate this article 174 A God for a Dark Journey somewhat to last year's reflections. This is so--not surprisingly--because our important experiences, and what we manage to make of them with God's grace, are generally in continuity even while, at the same time, our spiritual life really grows and really changes. In some cases, therefore, trends and issues treated here are obviously direct developments of topics discussed before. In other cases, though the trend or issue 1 am writing about now may appear new, reader's closer reflection will show that, whether explicitly or implicitly, the matter actually relates to the same basic theme: our spiritual struggle as American Christians to incarnate the life and love of God in our rapidly secularizing world. 1. The God of Darkness and Suffering Our rapidly secularizing and highly technological world can be very decep-tive and misleading. In most of the world we have available light of whatever color and intensity we choose all through the day and night, No more dark-ness. Computers, cameras, radios and recorders seem to promise constant companionship and communication. No more isolation. And yet, together with all this garish light and constant talk, there is a lingering and growing sense of darkness, of alienation, impoverishment and loneliness. For a while this past year we could read of three actual wars in the papers each day: in the Falklands, in Iraq, and in Lebanon. Though the inevitable destruction and carnage of those wars was disguised and muted temporarily, gradually the terrible details came to be revealed. Slowly but stubbornly our troubled economy has been squeezing not only comfort and convenience, but hope and life out of many of the jobless poor in this country. Most of the world events and concerns mentioned in last year's article continue to be active among u's.2 This suffering and violence often visit a despairing darkness and sense of emptiness upon the human soul. To find God in this darkness and emptiness is a growing challenge. Because, for most of us, God is more obviously associated with light, fullness, wholeness, with the beautiful richness of being, people today have more of a sense of forsakenness and abandonment in their experience of the empty darkness. Nor will the immediate future, of our secular world bring a sudden evaporation of this darkness and alienation. Rather than attempting to escape the darkness, therefore, we must learn to look deeper into it, to find God present everywhere--and always a God of personal love and intimate care. The negative, or apophatic, element in our experience of God, then, may be taking on more practical importance today in spirituality. As David Rast has said: "Only if we can know the God whose transcendent greatness allows him to be 'no-where,' can we gradually experience our God as always 'now-here.'" This is the approach of Pseudo-Dionysius, of The Cloud of Unknow-ing, which leads beyond the surface light of God's love into the depths of a darkness of faith where the God of loreand light is experienced in a great 176 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 simplicity of presence and faith. The experience needed here is the one I described in last year's article as the protection against secularism. Now l~think we are facing some specific implications of this experience of God. If we do not settle for a God who is too small, then we can find a God of light, fullness, wholeness and beauty in the pervasive darkness, emptiness, fragmentation and horror of our world and of our hearts. A God whose greatness and majesty can make human hearts tremble in awesome wonder is also so inextricably involved in this world that the intimacy of love in Jesus can quiet human hearts even in the most fearsome and trying situations. As events in our world and in our personal lives shock and strip us to the very core of our being, we must, rather than despairing and falling into an unreal world either of denial or of naive optimism, learn to plumb the depths tofind the God who holds all being, and so each of us, in existence. In the depths of a heart experiencing pitch-darkness or crass evil or chilling emptiness, there is present a God without whom being and existence cannot be. And this God, our God, is always love. It is the God whose love and care were always present to Jesus on Calvary, even when he sensed a chilling absence. We are now struggling, and we will continue to struggle, to find what Louis Dupr6 calls The Deeper Life.3 We need to discover the God whose pervasive and intimate love is finally revealed more fully through the negations of an apophatic spirituality, that same love which, like a quiet flame at the center of all being, is sometimes experienced.like a torch for great zeal, at other times like a white heat apparently consuming while actually laying bare the divine center of our true identity. Dupr+ describes the attitude involved in this pro-found experience of God: "Unconditional trust without knowing what it is we trust, willingness to let go without knowing whether anyone will ever catch us, preparedness to wait without knowing whether we will be met.~Total looseness and unconditional trust are the virtues negative theology teaches us to culti-vate. There could be no more appropriate lesson in our time.TM 2. The Temple of the Human Heart In a rapidly secularizing world, public life provides less and less of the genuinely religious. Shrines and temples seem useless. The decay of their buildings speaks of a dead past. Christendom, it would seem, has long since died and does not offer even a desirable ideal any more. The world and society are no longer built or structured according to a Christian vision, nor, for that matter, according to any genuinely religious vision. For many people, this seems no great loss. But for the person of faith and religious sensitivity, the situation presents a great challenge. Realizing the futility of trying to turn back contemporary developments, to return to a past age's forms of public religious expression, we see that we are being invited instead to enter the temple of our own hearts. It is not enough, though, that the ontological reality of every human heart makes it actually a temple of God. We need consciously to app.reciate this, to cooperate actively A God for a Dark Journey / 177 with the adornment of this uniquely personal temple. Without a sense of itself as this personal religious temple, the heart's faith can die as it falls prey to secularism. This temple of the human heart, however, cannot be wholly an inward reality. It must find some appropriate externalization. The inner sanctuary, of course, mus~ be highly personal and intimately religious--a profound meeting of God and of our truest self. And yet, while profoundly personal and inti-mately unique, this inner temple ought not promote a closed individualism. The human heart where God lives and is adored and loved cannot become a church unto itself. The God who is known and reverenced in our own hearts is at once the source of, and the invitation to, community, the community of the human family and the community of the Church.This religious temple of the heart, if its air is to remain healthy and invigorating, will require, especially in a secularistic, religionless world, some appropriate external aids, like the desig-nated chapel of a religious community or a special place in one's own room, and a special time set aside for regular prayer. When the human heart has thus become a carefully provisioned temple of the Lord, the person has also become capable of an inner life of quiet intimacy and peace everywhere, whether it be in a bustling subway, or in the solitary confinement of a jail, or in the dangerous crowding of a refugee-boat or on the death-bed of a cancer patient. At times our hearts will be temples of bright light focusing on a God joyfully imaged and named in Jesus. At other, catas-trophic and confusing times, this temple will be darkened, housing a God temporarily nameless and unknown. In either atmosphere, this templeis a place where we bend low in quiet awe and in reverently trustful abandonment to a Love that fires ministry for God's justice in our world. This profound inner life o~ personal religious experience will be increas-ingly necessary as we move to the future. And it is always available, because of that God whom Jesus spoke of as seeing and rewarding all hidden gestures of love: "Let it be a secret between you and your Father. And your Father who knows all secrets will reward you.'~ Karl Rahner, in an article entitled "The Spirituality of the Church of the Future," sums up this trend and its issue: "It has already been pointed out that the Christian of the future will be a mystic or he will not exist at all. If by mysticism we mean., a genuine experience of God emerging from the very heart of our existence, this statement is very true and its truth and importance will become still clearer in the spirituality of the future.'~ 3. To lk Peoplg of the Church Many people continue to grapple with the role of the Church in their Christian identity. Whether these be earnest novices in a religious congrega-tion, serious students in a seminary or college, or young people just returned from some volunteer service and about to enter into a parish, the issue is always the same: in living a genuine and generous love for God, how much 171t / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 must one be a person of the Church? And the issue centers on the institutional Church. Can I stand for, and identify myself (maybe in some necessarily special way) with this international institution that is the Catholic Church? It is a matter of conscience for some whether they can identify with some of the practices and policies of the Church. Many, while believing in God and living generous lives of service, either explicitly reject membership in the Church or effectively live their religion without any real relationship to the Church. This is a complicated matter, but one that must be ~faced by the whole spectrum of Church membership, from pope and bishop to parishioner in the pew. A specific cause, or combination of different causes, can raise the issue critically for different persons: a domineering clerical attitude encountered; monotonous, uninformed preaching; a successful remarriage after divorce; the prohibition of women's ordination--or maybe even the prohibition of their service as lectors; and many other reasons. For an increasing number of people, practices within the institutional Church which they perceive to be unjust are making membership in the Church more and more painful and questionable. To the query as to how much one must identify with the institu-tional Church, answers would range far and wide. Some would almost identify the Church with the institution, while others would play down the institution to almost no significance--and thus would think the entire question otiose. A "sense of Church" must be reclaimed for many people. For the fully Christian mind and heart, the mystery of God in Christ Jesus, and therefore the mystery of the whole human family, is incarnational and communal--and universal. All this says community. And not just sect, either--but Church. But we must all be concerned that it be a Church that is attractive, inspiring, demanding, inviting. The development of such a Church that others can believe in will continue to be the task of us all. The Church on all levels of its membership must continue to struggle for a more genuine following of Jesus in our world. Some gather regularly into small groups to share life and faith and find support in community. This can begin to provide an experience of community which is at the core of Church. But it does not, in the long run, suffice. To see the glory of God in a weak, human Church, struggling in the Spirit,'is never easy. It requires a stubborn hope, the hope of a genuine love, sometimes, surely, critical, but always a lover of the Church.7 4. An Expansive Ministry Born in Forgiveness Especially iri religious life, but also throughout the whole Church, it is getting more and more difficult to find people competent and willing to under-take ministries of difficult responsibility. In religious life, some major superiors speak of a crisis of leadership. They speak of a lack of available and suitable men and women for the challenging roles of leadership either in the religious community itself or in the apostolic works of the community. It may be a formation director; the pastor of a new black or Hispanic parish, a third-world mission assignment or a superior in a larger community. But the issue is always A God for a Dark Journey the same: men and women to fulfill these challenging tasks. We have renewed our concept of the role-model for a religious superior and for the leader of our apostolic works. But it is difficult to find men and women suitable and willing to undertake such missions. Among the consequences of this leadership crisis, paramount is the inter-ference it is causing with the service that religious communities could otherwise render in the world. This leadership need is not to maintain past, outmoded structures, but rather to inspire and facilitate more unified and effective service in response to new, serious challenges facing the Church in today's world. Is this leadership failure a result of faulty formation? This is a question worthy'of reflection on the part of all of us. And it must be answered carefully. The profound renewal of contemporary religious formation has involved a necessary development in a direction quite different from the past. The stress on individual responsibility and careful respect for the gifts and talents of the individual has correctly tailored formation programs increasingly to the strengths and weaknesses of each individual. But while moving in this person-oriented direction, we have not, perhaps, maintained or developed as well as we might that healthy sense of self-abnegation which would allow an individ-ual to be truly available for more of the service-needs of the religious group. This is a necessary correction/refinement of contemporary formation that we now recognize and can implement. In an earlier article, I called this the devel-opment of a more refined Christian personalism which would help us recog-nize and transform the very real, though subtle, self-serving tendencies in all our hearts,s ° As we ponder the difficult ministries facing us now and in the future, we must remember that all genuine ministry is rooted in devotion. Ministry is neither something carelessly superimposed from above, nor somethifig nar-rowly limited to an individual's comfort and convenience.Devotion here is not some emotional pietism. Rather, it is the experiential capacity to find God-- something that runs much deeper than emotion and feeling. Formation pro-grams should provide a great diversity of experiences, in order to stretch the person's capacity for devotion far beyond what might have been originally expected. If an individual's ability to find God is too narrowly limited, that person's lack of availability for service can easily become a future liability. This trained, experiential ability to find God in various ministries and situations always involves a kind of self-transcendence. This transcendence is made possible thrbugh an abnegation of self which is motivated and inspired by an experience of the greatness of God's love for me, The goodness of God's love is exhilarating and expansive, attracting the human heart beyond nar-rowly self-centered concerns. Heroism for God is born here. But without a growing mortification, one that is not destructive but revelatory of our true self in God, the devotion of finding the expansive joy of God's love in many future ministries simply is not possible. Another aspect of this crisis of leadership for ministry is our ebbing expe- 1~10 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 rience of forgiveness. Forgiveness is meant to be the birthplace of great zeal for ministry. God's gratuitous forgiveness sets off a dynamic which turns the heart outward for service. To be forgiven beyond one's wildest dream is not some-thing to be kept to oneself, but becomes a life of service of others. The greater the sense of forgiveness, the greater and more expansive will be the zeal of devotion for finding God in ministry. But a trend I mentioned three years ago continues to haunt us in this whole matter of a vigorous availability for ministry which is essentially rooted in the religious experience of forgiveness? and it is this. We remain timid and con-fused in our admission of personal sin. As we continue to grow out of an unhealthy, Jansenistic, legalistic sense of sin (especially in the sexual realm), we are left with a vacuum, since we have not yet properly assimilated a healthy sense of social sin or personal sin (also in the sexual realm). Fears of self-hatred and unhealthy guilt still dull our sensitivity to the healthy guilt and shame that are always part of the grace of a forgiving God seeking out the sinner. But so long as our past leaves us confused and quite unresponsive to our present sinfulness, we cannot experience the full dynamic of God's forgiveness in our hearts. And it is only an acknowledged sinner, humbled in the truth of forgive-ness, who receives.from God an expansive zeal for ministry. The effect of a shallow experience of forgiveness finally registers in minis-try. If one is not driven to ministry through forgiveness, one can fabricate one's own ministry in too selfish a manner. Rather than receiving a ministry from God in the devotion of forgiveness, a person can cling to a ministry with an angry arrogance and impatience that often speaks of improving and aggrandiz-ing oneself rather .than serving the needs of others. Further, this experience of being humbled in the truth of one's sin and God's forgiveness is always an important sign distinguishing a true prophet from a false prophet. In these days when prophecy is a more noticed phenomenon among us than before, and when we are in need of the inspiration of true prophets, we cannot forget that the true prophet is forged in the zeal and humility of forgiveness. 5. A New Way of "Making" Catholics Any remedy for the deficient sense of personal sinfulness mentioned in the previous trend will require much more than our renewed rite for the reception of the sacrament of reconciliation. This renewed rite, in practice now for about eight years, though it is an improvement, has obviously not by itself renewed the experience many people have of God's forgiveness. What is needed is a whole catechesis to help people recognize in their own hearts the dynamic of receiving God's gift of forgiveness. This raises the issue of how Catholics are formed and trained, raised in the faith these days. It is a matter of how people over a lifetime continue to enter the Church. There seems to be a great change occurring here which will have tremendous implications for the future. Most of us were raised in a Catholic school system where we had drilled into us the essentials and practices of A God for a Dark Journey / 1111 Catholic life. But things have changed. There are not nearly as many religious serving as teachers as before. Many parish schools have closed. And besides, many of those simple, clear essentials of Catholic life are not so simple and clear any more. As formal Catholic schooling becomes less and less available, CCD and other methods of religious education take on greater importance. Often in the past CCD was not very effective. It was.perceived as a definite second-best to the parochial school. But that view is slowly changing, and it must continue to change. As the whole procedure and atmosphere of formal schooling become less and less the way of handing on faith, new replacements must be instituted. Genuinely Catholic believers will never sprout fully grown from the ground. Besides learning the doctrines of faith, young people must receive a feel for the faith life. They must be allowed to admire it as they see it lived and shared by others. As Michael Warren, an expert in youth ministry, claims: Young per-sons need the fidelity of adults who care for them.~° The Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults has received very good press. Some have called it "a revolutionary document" as it ritualizes a process of initiation into the Church which "gives first priority to the mystery of God's love for us.TM It can also be used as a guide in the baptism of infants.12 While this document expresses a better view of Church and ritualizes much better the process of initiation into the Church, its effectiveness will very much depend on the proper attitudes of priests and laity, and the availability of enough competent, generous, committed adults. Only in this way will the words of the document come to life as an ongoing process of initiation, a real catechumenate, which can help transform both how we "make" Catholics and what genuine Catholic life will look like in the future. RCIA, then, over a period of years, can play a large role in the formation of Catholics, but it cannot dispense us from the serious experimentation needed to discover and develop other forms of religious education that will be effective formatively on persons through their young years and on into their adulthood. I do not want to be misunderstood. I am not calling for the abolition of all Catholic schools. 1 am, rather, reflecting in the context of the actual situation that faces us now. The cos( of private religious education continues to escalate even as we struggle for tax credits to cover some of the expense. And the number of parochial and private schools continues to decrease. In this situa-tion, we must find a viable replacement for handing on Catholic faith, for helping our young people to grow up in that faith. Both in the schools that remain and in new religious education programs, the role of competent, enthu-siastic lay people continues to grow in importance. And this brings us to our next trend. 6. The Growing Vocation of the Lay Person We need to broaden our understanding and usage of the word "vocation." 182/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 One Often hears the worried question: "Do you think we'll have enough voca-tions?" The question clearly limits the concern to priestly and religious voca-tions. In breaking out of this past narrow understanding, we need to help others to see that living a serious faith life involves for everyone a vocation to service in the Church. It is not only priests and religious who have a vocation. Again, the lay vocation itself can be viewed too narrowly, as Archbishop Bernardin has cautioned: "Sometimes the impression is given that if a lay person wishes to become involved in the Church's mission, he or she must always be specially trained to become, in effect, a kind of professional within the Church. This view of lay ministry, I believe, is too narrow.''~ As a broader sense of vocation develops and spreads, I think we will never know exactly how many vocations (in the narrower sense) are "enough." But we will cooperate much more in all sorts of Christian ministries--and so we will feel much less shorthanded. Attitudinal changes, however, among some clergy especially, and among some lay people, too, are needed before that older limited view of vocation is transformed into a vision of great collabora-tion on all levels of the Church. Both the need for and the supply of well-educated, committed lay men and women continue to grow. More and more lay men and women are needed both to share and to implement the religious vision that must shape the curriculum of our Catholic schools, as well as to exercise other ministries in parishes and dioceses. A growing number of competent people are available for all these posts. And, increasingly, they are men and women who are hungry for an adult, inspiring and integrating spirituality. If these people are not to be forced to search for this spirituality even outside the Church, we must find ways of responding to this hunger. And this assistance must be largely centered in the parish. In no way does this exclude the use of special spiritual centers, retreat houses, or programs that are outside the boundaries of the parish. But these mhst always be complemented by a lived sensE, within the parish, of the presence of spiritual growth and challenge manifested in things like the quality of homilies, small discussion groups and a strongly collaborative response to the missionary needs both within and beyond the parish. Dolores Leckey, executive director of the U.S. Bishops' Secretariat for the Laity, lists among the primary needs of the laity: "a place to tell the truth, the experience of being listened to with respect, a chance to minister in ecclesial or designated ministry, and affirmation of the secular lay vocation and support of that vocation through theological education and in-depth spiritual formation." She sees these needs calling forth three needed attitudes in the ordained priest: com-mitment and community, interdependence in ministry, and willingness as opposed to willfulness.~4 For many of these lay men and women, the fundamental vocation to which they are called is the noble and glorious one of raising a good Christian family. I have written before on the precarious state of the family and the challenges with which this situation confronts us.~ Without repeating all those A God for a Dark Journey / 11t3 points again, my concern here is simply to face and restate the need for holy, self-sacrificing men and women to give themselves to raising a family. In a culture tending more to self-centered comfort and convenience, this ideal of raising a family tends to lose some of its glow. In fact, how many young people, once they finally decide to marry, actually plan on having a family? It is hard, though, to know how pervasive this attitudinal-shift away from raising a family really is. The vocation of a mother and father, with its own unique suffering and sacrifice, ought never seem "ordinary." It is a great, glorious vocation, and one vitally essential to the future of the Church and of the human race. Talented and dedicated young men and women must be helped to see that raising a family is truly a "vocation" in the Church. A theology and spirituality of the family must continue to be developed for the contemporary world and Church. Only with continuing reflection and careful cooperation on the part of husband' and wife can their raising of a family become integrated with, and be a powerful, creative means for furthering, their own profession and sense of self-worth. And the legitimate, essential struggle for women's rights .must not be allowed to create a condescending scorn for the women whose life, for so many years, is spent at home raising a fa'mily. To co-create with God, and daily to reveal God's love to children, is an exalted vocation--one that gives profound joy and binds parents in deeper love through sacrifice. 7. Public Witness to a Gospel Spirituality Which Prescinds from All Political Ideology The Church has been taking more and more stands on social questions over the past three years. A quick review of the weekly issues of Origins would show how often the National Conference "of Catholic Bishops has testified before various congressional committees over this same period. Some names of church men and women have almost become household words on various social issues, in this country and beyond. Nuclear disarmament, international concern for human rights, aid to El Salvador, an anti-abortion amendment, ~nd the abolition of the death penalty are but a few of the issues that have drawn public statements from various bodies within the Church. I would guess that, as the Church's social consciousness continues to grow, there will be need in the future for even more public stands. There is a serious danger here, though, something that could corrupt the Church's whole approach to social issues, both in this country and throughout the world. Some of the stands that the Church is taking and will be called upon to take may well coincide with the stands of different political ideologies and parties, whether Marxist or capitalist, Democratic or Republican. But the Church's stands must always clearly be and be seen to be conclusions of a gospel spirituality which prescinds from any and all political ideologies as such. One can, these days, hear someone speak strongly for international human rights or for nuclear disarmament, or for any other social issue, but 184 ] Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 who does so in such a way as to become clearly involved with a specific political ideology. When people hear such talk, they often, and quite reason-ably, wonder how a speaker of another political view would address the same topic. When the speaker's viewpoints are given in such a partisan manner, any gospel vision, if expressed at all, simply has to lose much of its force. And so the gospel witness is blunted for the listener. A specific political orientation of the speaker can, therefore, distract from the power of a position which he or she sincerely intends to incarnate gospel spirituality. To be identified too closely with a political ideology, rather than to be and act as a person of the Gospel, distracts people from what can be the power of various public stands of the Church. To be ready to take such stands requires that the individuals involved in these issues continue to take the means necessary to grow in and live more profoundly a gospel spirituality. In its first version of the pastoral letter on peace and war, the National Conference of Catholic Bishops claimed that "war, especially the threat of nuclear war, may well be the central problem.of our age." Within the past two years much energy and effort has resulted in a gradual development of sensitiv-ity and consensus, not 0nly on the part of the bishops, but also, though more slowly and perhaps less perceptibly, on the part of the Catholic faithful. How extensive this consensus will become, and whether it will prevent a serious division among the faithful at the publication of the final version of the pastoral letter, perhaps this spring, are hard to predict. But the different titles of the first two versions of the pastoral letter do manifest some of this devel- ¯ opment: "God's Hope in a Time of Fear" becomes "The Challenge of Peace~ God's Promise and Our Response." Some commentators have seen the first version as inviting Catholic theologians to develop a true theology of peace, and the second version, in response to an avalanche of helpful criticism, as an actual contribution to such a theology. Joseph O'Hare's words seem very sound and sensible: "In the end, the process may prove more important than the document it produces."16 The dialogue, debate and honest confrontation of different positions, at times quite heated, seem a work of the Spirit painfully forming a clarity and consensus that can challenge not only the consciences of Catholics, but also the difficult decisions of those responsible for the peace policies of our country. This complicated issue of the use and even possession of nuclear weapons must be both carefully scrutinized and evaluated, ultimately, in terms of an explicitly gospel vision of reality. The bishops must speak, and must be seen to speak, from a different vision than those who simply work within "liberal" or "conservative" ideologies or categories. The seriousness of the issue, which may be honestly summarized as the very survival of the human race, deserves the most careful s~arching out and testing of consensus within the American Catholic community. It must be a consensus based on our richest moral consciousness. To settle for any minimal, least-common-denominator position would be to default on the spiritual leadership that is required of the bishops A God for a Dark Journey by their position in our faith community. In many different ways we can be instructed by this process. It can teach the bishops, and the rest of us as well, about appropriate ways of reading and facilitating the Spirit's formation of a faith-consensus within our community. It can instruct us about what shall have to go ihto the future meaning of an internationally accountable, authentic patriotism. It can help us learn expe-rientially about the essentially important matter of unity and division within the American Catholic Church in the face of a great public issue which is moral as well as utterly pOlitical. Religion, and not just moral perspectives, shall have to be part of what we are taught. A profound and comprehensive peace, which God's love as revealed in a crucified Son can bring to human hearts, is what alone makes possible genuine conversion and love within the whole human family. This peace of God is the heart of the matter. And Jesus is God's victorious promise of this peace. Iksides this crucial issue of peace and war, there are other aspects of our concern for justice to be mentioned here. As we continue to increase our concern for justice, there can be a tendency to become too narrow in vision and even to exaggerate the justice issue--even though it very rightly continues to grow in importance. And again, lest 1 be misunderstood here, let me reassert that I do realize how very far many of us have to go in developing a true sense of justice, letting it influence the dedication of our Christian lives,t7 However, as can happen with almost any issue, we can so stress orthopraxis that our concern becomes chiefly the need for immediate action on behalf of social justice rather than with developing a vision which can enlighten and invigorate all the works of the Church, and not simply her social works. For example, in the work of a professional in higher education, besides direct social service when this is possible, there are many other means for inculcating in students attitudes for service and long-range social change. Professors who do not manipulate or dominate, but who serve their students by staying alive to their subject, who keep their classes well prepared and challenging, are very directly promoting justice. A view which would suggest that direct social service is the best, if not the only way that higher education can serve God's justice in this world, would seem a far too narrow, and therefore false, position on what is involved in the "integral promotion of justice." A similar exaggeration of the justice issue can overlook the spirituality that is needed to give force to any social concern. Though most of us still have a long way to go. in sensitizing our hearts to God's call for justice, I wonder whether, for some who have decidedly moved their center of gravity in the direction of their own social involvement, the challenge now is to find and maintain a viable spirituality within the new central thrust of their lives. A flurry of social work is not enough. Christian commitment to the works of justice must spring from a profound sense of God's love always at work and most dramatically promised in Jesus' Calvary experience of dying into a full- 11~6 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 ness of life and love. Among religious, an extreme tendency can yield to the temptation of settling for what Johannes Metz has called the political dimension of each of the vows, without a struggle on the part of the religious to integrate the mystical with the political dimension so as to develop an organic life of con-cerned service.~s The struggle for justice can also become unfocused and lose its gospel foundation if it forgets the mutual interaction between those internal, individ-ual, more personal dimensions and the external, social dimensions in our human world. This struggle for justice must always involve the careful balance and interplay between the evangelization of individual hearts and the forma-tion of a just-world society. Concerns about stealing, cheating, abortion and sexual immorality must always be carefully related to concerns of international human rights, nuclear disarmament, politics and economic justice. Some indi-viduals, some religious communities and other Church groups who are labor-ing nationally and internationally for justice and liberation, must be careful lest they seem caught up in liberal causes for the day which claim to pursue a systemic social justice without enough concern for the conversion and sanctifi-cation of individual hearts. A just society will always require more than any mere political and economic system. The justice and liberation we are con-cerned with here is Of God. It is God's sanctification and liberation of human hearts in Jesus.~9 But this is a liberation that can only be incarnated in our world through humanly cooperative analysis, planning and action. The sense and grace of its being God's work through us can never become empty theory, but must always throb in the veins of the apostle for justice. Liberation ~heology must always be energized by a spirituality of liberation?° This difficulty of keeping the ihdividual and the social, the internal and the external in proper balance runs deep in the modern mind. The issue is too extensive to be treated here and will surely not be changed overnight. But it needs urgent, serious attention. In a world overly interpreted by scientism there is, of course, little or nothing beyond the physical. Metaphysics has fallen on tough times. What you see is not only what you get, but it is all there is, in this modern view. This development of modernity has a long philosophical history reaching back at least to the sixteenth century, and developing through the Enlightenment. It is an issue of huge proportions,.far beyond any possibility of more than mention here. But it should not surprise us that this issue insinuates its way into our struggle to understand and to integrate "that justice without which faith is incomplete," that justice which .demands not only social action but moral conversion of soul. 8. Brldgebuilders Besides a growing need for prophets in the Church today, there is an equally great need for bridgebuilders. The pioneering prophet always calls and A God for a Dark Journey / 187 leads a people into the future. The builder of bridges is needed to keep the body of the people together and not let them be separated. In many areas polariza-tion is not as severe, or at least it is not so obvious as it used to be. But on all levels of the Church there is need to bring people from different viewpoints together in a genuine unity beneath and in and through their differences. The work of the bridgebuilder is creatiVe, patient--and very difficult. It is creativity that prevents community from capitulating to the least common de-nominator. In the face of certain impasses the ingenuity of an engineering feat is called for to bridge the gulf. Bridgebuilding is also messy work: you have to be willing to get dirty. To dive underwater and survey the depths, to lay foun-dations in muddy ground and to set steel and cement are never easy. It is very patient work, work that stretches a person. One must be able to live on both shores, to recognize the gulf of difference and to have a genuine desire and hope for bridging that gulf of difference. The builder of bridges learns to listen compassionately, though not uncritically, to the good of both sides and doesn't become trapped on only one side. Bishop Cummins of Oakland, when talking about the changing relations between bishops and theologians, called his brother bishops to "be wise enough to consult not just those theologians with whom we are intellectually comfortable, but even a wider group so that we will have the sense of the broader reflection and experience of the community.TM Bridgebuilding is a priestly work in imitation of Jesus who is the great high priest, Pontifex (which means a bridgemaker). It is a priestly work we can all practice. Just as Jesus' priestly bridgebuilding is best revealed in his salvific suffering and dying on Calvary, so our own bridgebuilding ministry will involve a passion of patient suffering which will always be creative for unity. Today, we all need to develop some of this creative, paschal charism of bridge-building, if we are not to settle, on all levels of the world andthe Church, for a shallow, easily disrupted communion of minds and hearts. 9. Ongoing Monastic Renewal Three years ago, in surveying the decade of the seventies, I mentioned the matter of renewal in monasticism.22 During this past year, the issue has been brought home to me again with even an intensity. Some members of monastic communities obviously feel it is time for an honest, thorough evaluation of all the experimentation of the last fifteen years. They sense that communities too easily presume the validity of too much of that experimentation. Though this issue is somewhat removed from my personal experience, I sense in certain voices, not just a traditionalist tendency, but a healthy call for evaluation before monastic communities move on much further with planning for the future. In the midst of the worthwhile development which recent experimentation has brought, are there some changes that have weakened rather than strengthened the monastic experience of God in the Church? How, for example, do the sisters of a renewed contemplative community resolve their growing unease about whether they have lost too much of silence in their 11~1~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 life together? How does a monastic community recognize and reject the newer versions of a tendency to rigidity, legalism, boredom, self-satisfied compla-cency- signs always antithetical to the Gospel~3 These questions, and there are many others that monastic communities could formulate far better than I, are not easy questions. But they could provoke stimulating, life-giving evaluation. In the long history of monasticism, it has always been a complicated matter to determine the appropriate "works" of a community. Merton has reminded the monastic community that it "does not exist for the sake of any apostolic or educational work, even as a secondary end. The works of the monk are not justified by their external results but only by their relevance to his monastic life alone with God.TM Louis Dupr~, in a powerful chapter on "The Poverty of God," while commenting on the monastic life-style, says that "the monk avoids looking ridiculous by refusing to take himself or his work more seriously than they deserve. Measuring them against the backdrop of eternity he rightly judges human concerns to be less than all-significant."~5 The traditional "work" of hospitality continues to bring many people into touch with the powerful monastic witness and source of faith in God. Perhaps it can be an extension of hospitality today to be involved in explicitly spiritual ministries, such as direction, or other temporary services which can be ren-dered to tile local civic community--often right in the monastery. Of course the details of such determinations can only be known in the light of prayerfully careful study of the spirit and writings of the founder or foundress--and by planned, scheduled evaluation. It will always be a challenge for the community members themselves to believe in the monastically apostolic style of being and to resist any inappro-priately active style of doing. We speak here of more than a rearranging of schedule or works. It is a matter of renewing an attitude and a vocation of men and women called to witness to God, our eternally faithfiil Lover, called to do this through who they are and how they live together, rather than through what they "do" and "accomplish." As some monastic communities try to evaluate the developments of recent years, they may be helped by re-reading Thomas Merton's "Memorandum on Monastic Renewal'~6 and by looking at Louis Duprr's conferences to the monks at Gethsemani,27 and a hosi of other writings on the monastic life today. And if, as some suggest, this issue requires further attention, perhaps the Association of Contemplative Sisters in this country could facilitate a prayerful evaluation. Monastic life is at the very heart of Christian faith and justice. In a secularistic world so hyperactive and quick to identify and evaluate people according to what they do and have, the joyful witness of men and women whose basic identity is to be in apostolic contemplation before God, while always difficult to maintain, becomes ever more important. 10. Developments in Religious Life New religious groups continue to appear in the Church. One meets new A God for a Dark Journey / 189 religious communities that have broken off from older, better-known congre-gations; some impasse could not be resolved and a new group was born. There are other new groups that are not offshoots of any previous congregation. Some of these groups have canonical and ecclesiastical approval; others do not--and some are not interested in such approval. There is much vigor, value, variety and novelty in all of this. All these groups are responding to some need but often in quite different ways. Some are permanently formed groups, founded in the permanent covenant of final profession. Others are bound together much more temporarily. It is important to acknowledge the valuable service rendered by these groups, when they are not dominated by an ugly reaction to a past difficult situation. Can all such groups be classified as religious life? Are there new forms of religious life appearing in all of this? How far can the traditional understanding of religious life be stretched in new directions? It is still too early for this observer to be sure about any answers to these issues. My personal conviction is that we must be careful that religious life cannot come to mean almost anything. Otherwise words lose meaning. It would seem clear that the Spirit is breathing new types of groups into the Church at this time. And it is not necessary to force all of them into the framework of religious life. 1 myself incline to think that religious life will continue to be a life of total consecration to God, specified in terms of celibacy, poverty and obe-dience, lived in community,28 and with explicit ecclesiastical approval. In the light of this understanding, though there can be much renewal of forms of religious life, there probably are not any wholly new forms. But there are, and will continue to be, new forms of communities that are not formally part of religious life. And this, rather than being a problem, should be a welcome addition to ways of serving in the Church. To be mutually understanding and to serve together in building that Kingdom of Jesus' Father in human hearts, as it grew and was revealed in Jesus' own heart--this is the most important gift to receive from God and to share with each other until time and experience give us greater clarity about this issue.29 Another development in religious life, and for various reasons a cause of sadness and discouragement for some, is the continuing departure of men and women both before and after final profession. As I mentioned in my last article,30 evidence seems to support the belief that the number of departures which decreased in the end of the seventies is now picking up again in the eighties. Such a phenomenon needs to be pondered. It can contain a call to keep renewing the lived witness of religious life. But, it seems to me, here we have a phenomenon different from the sixties and early seventies. People realize more and more what the truth and demands are of a religious vocation ¯ in the world today. The immediate reason for many who leave seems to be related to celibacy. Fo~ them, celibacy does not seem right and good, if pos-sible at all. But to settle for this as a final, adequate explanation seems too simple. Investigation and reflection upon many of these cases reveal, for instance, that the observance of religious poverty had stopped and at least the "1911 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 attitude, if not the execution, of religious obedience of mission had also weak-ened or even stopped before celibacy also lost its gift quality and began to seem a burden too heavy to bear any more. Though celibacy may be the more immediate and obvious final crisis, it cannot be separated from religious pov-erty and obedience, both of which buttress and give expression to the interper-sonal, unique companionship with God which, at its core, is what celibacy is all about. 11. Openness to New Non-Western Ways of Seeing Reality Over this past year, missionaries have brought to my attention this final trend. As the Church continues to grow in Africa, Japan, India, and other parts of the Near and Far East, the faith of our universal or '~world" Church3~ can be enriched by openness to the very different ways of perceiving reality in these countries. But it wil! .~'¢quire a flexibility that is not always easy for us. My-own liinited experience and reading in this area prevent, me now from writing about the obviously vast and important implications of this openness for our Christian future. But I feel the truth of the witness of 0these missionaries at least to want to mention the matter here--with the hope that both reader and writer will ponder this further over the coming year. Conclusion As I conclude this fourth article on currents in American spirituality, two reflections come to mind. They may be stated very briefly. They are both, I think, very obvious. And very important. First, 1 think it is necessary, in a rapidly shifting, changing world and in a Church whose future we are called upon to choose in the Spirit, that an informed believer have a sense of con-temporary spiritual trends and issues. Second, it is necessary to recognize and to choose, again and again, precisely within these shifting, changing trends of our time, the one perennial truth and beauty of God's revelation in Jesus. This is the great and difficult, but exciting task of the believer. A God for a dark journey. The Letter to the Hebrews speaks to the stead-fast center of the enterprise: "Christ yesterday, today and the same forever.'~2 And Hopkins catches splendidly the variety and difference of that journey, common to us all, our journey into God: "Christ plays in ten thousand places, lovely in limbs and lovely in eyes not his, to the Father, through the features of men's faces,m3 A God for a Dark Journey ] 191 NOTES WTrends and Issues in a Secularizing World," March/April 1982, pp. 186-206. 2Ibid., pp. 186-187. 3The Deeper Life, Louis Dupr6 (Crossroad: New York, 1981). 41bid., p. 46. 5Mt 6:18. 6Concern For the Church, Theological Investigations XX, Karl Rahner, tr. Edward Quinn (Crossroad: New York, 1981), p. 149. 7Avery Dulles, S.J. is always a helpful and carefully creative guide in this whole question of the Church. See his Models of the Church (Image: New York, 1978) and his most recent book, A Church to Believe In (Crossroad: New York, 1982). 8"Trends of 1980: Some Themes and a Few Specifics," Review for Religious, March 1981, pp. 238-239. 9"The Past Decade," Review for Religious, March 1980, pp. 200-201. ~°"The Dimensions of Care," Origins, Jan. 28, 1982, pp. 520-524. ~tTad Guzie, The Book of Sacramental Basics (Paulist: New York, 1981), p. 85. ~2Ibid., pp. 97-103. ~3"The Future of Church and Ministry," Origins. May 6, 1982, p. 750. ~4"What the Laity Need," Origins, May 20, 1982, pp. 9-16, esp. 14. ~See art. cir., Review for Religious, March/April, 1982. pp. 202-203. ~6America, November 13, 1982, p. 284. Since we are in the midst of a process with regard to the pastoral letter of the bishops on Peace and War, it may be helpful to the reader to know that these remarks of mine were written in December, 1982. ~TArt. cit., Review for Religious, March 1980, pp. 201-202. 18Johannes B. Metz, Followers of Christ (Paulist: New York, 1978) esp. pp. 41-44. ~gThe Social Teaching of John Paul II, No. 4 "The Theme of Liberation," presented by Rev. Roger Heckel, S.J:, Pontifical Commission on Justice and Peace, Vatican City, 1980, esp. pp. 16-17. Heckel shows that John Paul 11 does not use the word liberation very much, and when he does God and Christ are the subject and content of the liberation. ~°Art. cir., Review for Religious, March/April, 1982, pp. 193-194. 2~"The Chahging Relations Between Bishops and Theologians," Origins, June 17, 1982, p. 70. 2ZArt. cir., Review for Religious, March 1980, pp. 197-198. ~See John C. Futrell, S.J., "The Monk and the Apostle," Review for Religious, May/June, 1982, p. 409. 2~Thomas Merton, The Monastic Journey, ed. Br. Patrick Hart, (Image: New York, 1978), p. 213. ZSDupr~, op. cit., p. 43. 26Merton, op. tit., pp. 213-217. ~TDupr~, op. cir. ~sSee art. eit., Review for Religious, March/April 1982, pp. 199-201, and James T. Burtchaell, "The Future of Our Fellowship," Commonweal, June 18, 1982. pp. 364-368. ~See Richard A. Hill, S.J., "The Community and the Option of Non-Canonical Status," Review for Religious, July/August 1982, pp. 542-550. The author treats the issues involved in a congrega-tion's moving to non-canonical status. ~°Art. Cir., Review for Religious. March/April 1982, p. 200. 3~1bid., p. 195. ~Heb 13:8. ~From the sonnet, "As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame." Conversion and Conflict John Navone, S.J. Father Navone writes of the pres,~nt article that it "develops the idea of the previous article ['Conversion Expres~d in Dialogue and Story.' Sept/Oct, 1982] in terms of the Synoptics' conflict stories and their implicit meaning for Christian conversion." Father continues to teach at the Gregorian University, where he also resides: Piazza della Pilotta, 4:00187 Roma. Italy. The New Testament is an external expression of the internal reality of Christian conversion. It brings to expression the mystery of God as a history of transforming love in Jesus Christ and in his community of faith: "No one has ever seen God: it is the only Son, who is nearest to the Father's heart, who has made him known" (Jn 1:18). The "conflict stories" of the New Testament imply that God's word of love will encounter human resistance.~ The adversaries of Jesus give expression to the various forms that human resistance takes to the grace and demand of God for our truest and fullest life in his love. His adversaries represent the mind-sets and heart-sets that oppose the event and the process of Christian conversion-- the personal and social transformation that results from the surrender of oneself to the love that is God. The synoptic gospels contain a number of episodes prior to the passion narrative in which there is a verbal exchange between Jesus and his contem-poraries on some crucial issue, exchanges in which Jesus and the other parties are adversaries. In these episodes, the crucial issue generally arises because of some action of Jesus, or of his disciples, which is unacceptable to the other parties. Some-times they arise because Jesus (or someone else) asks a question which pro-vokes conflict? There are three parts to the formal structure of these "conflict stories": 1) an introductory narrative: 2) the opponent's question or attack; and 3) Jesus' reply--the so-called "dominical saying." 192 Conversion and Conflict / "19:3 These stories are always preceded by some narrative. This narrative func-tions not only as a transitional link with what has preceded~ but it also estab-lishes the setting in such a way that the reader is prepared for the inevitable conflict. Thus the narrative stages a polarity or tension, with speaking and acting persons as the poles of the tension. Except in Mk 3: I-5, the conflict stories begin with a question or accusation that is usually directed toward Jesus or his disciples. In two instances, however, the questions begin from Jesus himself (Mr 22:41-46 and Lk 14:1-6). At times the silence of Jesus' opponent (as in Mk 3:2) can have the significance of a statement in the ensuing dialogue of question and answer. All materials of the conflict story are organized to stress Jesus' reply--the dominical saying--which brings the dialogue to a close. This pronouncement of Jesus has some bearing on an aspect of Christian belief or conduct. It implies the need of understanding, and it explains both the grace and the demand of God's word of love in Jesus Christ that calls for human transforma-tion in the process of Christian conversion. These conflict stories were formulated at various stages in the process of formation of the gospels, and in diverse circumstances.3 Some were shaped within the living context of the early Church's apologetical concerns in response to Jewish criticism. Others were shaped in the context of the catechet-ical concerns of the Church in its response to the need of teaching converts and regulating" the life of the believing community. Central to all conflict stories, however, is their focus on the person of Jesus, on his words, attitudes and actions. Christian conversion always has as its object the interpersonal life of Jesus Christ: his relationships to God, and his relationships to fellow-humans--his relationships to divine and human per-sons. This interpersonal life of Christ is the prime analogate for the Christian community's experience, understanding and judgment of its own interpersonal relationships with divine and human persons. ThE object of Christian conversion, then, is not just a set of truths, nor an ethical code. It is participation in the interpersonal life of Jesus Christ as this is itself rooted in receiving and giving the Father's love, in knowing and being known. The gospels' conflict stories imply the difficulty with which the mystery of God becomes a history of love in the actual life-stories of Jesus and of his followers. These stories imply that Christian conversion, both as event and as process of maturation, must have a dimension of conflict at both the intra-and interpersonal levels. "Not my will but thine be done" itself tells of a conflict relationship with the self that is always to be transcended in the individual's response to the grace and demand of the serf-giving love that is God. God's coming into our lives creates the transforming tension between his grace and its demand for an ever-greater selflessness which brings about a lasting communion with God's own self--and thereby with one another among his followers. Jesus Christ's "way of the cross" represents the "costly 194 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 love" of divine and of human self-giving and self-investment. Christian conversion, then, is the new life which derives from our accepting for ourselves God's own life of boundless love for all. The Cross expresses the suffering, that the acceptance of boundless love must entail--even for the sinless Son of God. It makes manifest that our acceptance of this love will inevitably place us in a conflictual relationship with others: If the world hates you. remember that it hated me before you. If you belonged to the world. the world would love you as its own: but because you do not belong to the world. because my choice withdrew you from the world. therefore the world hates you. Remember the words I said to you: A servant is not greater than his master. if they persecuted me. they will persecute you too . . . (Jn 16:18-20). If the conflict stories of the gospels are an expression of the interpersonal life of Jesus Christ, of his receiving and giving his Father's love for the trans-formation of all, they imply also that Christian conversion, our participation in his life, must inevitably entail conflict at both the intra- and interpersonal levels. At both levels it must entail an ever deeper penetration into the mystery of that love which itself embraces our lives, and constitutes the term towards which our whole beings strive. The God whose word of love is addressed to us in the conflict stories gives us the ability to make that word our own by the process of Christian conver-sion. 4 Not only do we hear Jesus' story, but we tell the same story in our own lives, making his struggle to overcome the unlove of the human heart our own. The Church tells these conflict stories of its Lord as an expression of the life which derives from his love. His struggle reveals the way that God's ' kingdom comes to us. Consequently, we might well question our tendency to believe that conflict at the intra- and interpersonal levels of Christian life is always an indication that something is wrong. Rather, it would seem we might be more concerned about the authenticity of a Christian commitment which did not encounter resistance at both these levels. The way of the cross is the way of inexhaustible and unquenchable love. It enables us to live in the tension and conflict that this love demands if we are to attain to the fullness of life in the kingdom of God. These conflict stories must not be read outside the context of the Good News. This is what fills the heart with joy and enables self-sacrifice to be wholehearted. Even though these stories imply the demand of a God who challenges everything that is in us, they are expressions at the same time of the great Good News that God is Love and has given us his life and love in Jesus Christ and in his Spirit. Even though these stories imply all the conflict, tension, suffering and Conversion and Conflict / 195 renunciation that is inherent in living as Christians, they, too, belong to the Good News, because what is primary in them and in it is the joy taken in the goodness of the life and love that God has given us: "Jesus. who, for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, despising the shame" (Heb 12:2).5 The conflict-dimension of Christian conversion and its way of the cross is founded on the joy that is taken in the Supreme Good, in the Boundless Love that we know and proclaim to be the Father of Jesus Christ. Through the gift of the Spirit. we are enabled to rejoice in this Love and its challenges. In this context we know that where there is love, there is also struggle. The crucified and risen One reveals that Love is not indifferenl to human unlove, but struggles to overcome it in the conflictual activity of Love's self-giving. NOTES ~Other terms have been used to designate the material which we have called here "conflict stories." The term Streitgesprhche (controversy dialogues) was used by Martin AIbertz and Rudolf Bultmann. Martin Dibelius used Paradigmen. Vincent Taylor used pronouncement stories. Sometimes controvers.v stories was used in English as a general designation. -'The following conflict stories are those designated by such as Arland J. Hultgren in Jesus and His Adversaries (Minneapoilis: Augsburg Publishing House, 1979), pp. 26-27: I. There are eleven conflict stories in Mark. usually with parallels in Matthew and Luke: 2: 1-12: The Healing of the Paralytic (Mr 9:1-8: Lk 5:17-26). 2:15-17: Eating with Tax Collectors and Sinners (Mr 9:10-13: Lk 5:29b-32). 2:18-22: The Question About Fasting (Mt 9:14-15: Lk 5:33-35). 2:23-28: Plucking Grain on the Sabbath (Mr 12:1-8: Lk 6:1-5). 3: I- 5: Healing on the Sabbath (Mt 12:9-13: Lk 6:6-10). 3:22-30: The Beelzebul Controversy (Mt 12:22~32: Lk 11:14-23). 7: I- 8: The Tradition of the Elders (Mt 15:1-9). 10: 2- 9: On Divorce IMt 19:3-9). 11:27-33: The Question About Authority (Mt 21:23-27: Lk 20:1-8). 12:13-17: Paying Taxes to Caesar (Mt 22:15-22: Lk 20:20-26). 12:18-27: On the Resurrection (Mr 22:23-33: Lk 20:27-40). 2. There are two conflict stories in the special Lucan material." 13:10-17: Healing the Crippled Woman on the Sabbath. 14: 1- 6: Healing the Man with Dropsy on the Sabbath. 3. There are three conflict stories in Matthew based in part on Marcan and Q materials: 12:38--42: The Refusal of a Sign (in part from Mk 8:11-12 and Q: Lk 11:29-32). 22:34-40: The Double Commandment of Love (in part from Mk 12:38-42 and Q: Lk 10:25-28), 22:41-46: The Question ,~bout David's Son (in part from Mk 12:35-37). 4. There is 1 co~Tflict story in Luke based in part on Marcan material." 7:36-50: The Sinful Woman at Simon's House (in part from Mk 14:3-9). 5. There is I conflict story in Q." Mt 12:22-32: Lk 11:14-23: The Beelzebul Controversy (see Mk 3:22-30). JConflict stories, obviously, are but one way for the evangelists to express Jesus' struggle. The story of the demoniac in the Capernaum synagogue, for example, expresses the demons' sense that in Jesus they have met the victor in the cosmic conflict between good and evil: "You have 196 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 come to destroy us, haven't you?" (Mk 1:24). '~See the treatment of Christian conversion in the eighth chapter of my book. co-authored with Thomas Cooper, Tellers qf the Word: Nine Moments in the Theology of Story (New York: I_e Jacq Publishers. 1981). SThe incapacity to enjoy seems to be connected wth the incapacity to love. Some do not enjoy anything enough to be able to forget about themselves. The first thing we read about God in the Bible is that he made something and thought it was good. St. Thomas writes of the love of benevolence or friendship that by it the person who loves desires for the person loved the same goods that he desires for himse~f"as for another se~f.'" And so the lover desires to give to the beloved the same things that have been the objects of his own love and enjoyment. See, e.g., ST. I-II, q. 27, a. 3. Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing One's Memories With Christ by David J. Hassel, S.J. Price: $.60 per copy, plus postage Add ress: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The Service of Religious Authority: Reflections on Government in the Revision of Constitutions Mary IJnscott, S.N.D. Sister Mary, formerly Superior General of the Sisters of Notre Dame of Namur (1969-1978), presently works at the Sacred Congregation for ReLigious and Secular Institutes in the area of constitutions and general chapters of sisters. She resides at her motherhouse: Suore di Nostra Signora di Namur: Largo Berchet, 4; 00152 Roma, Italy. Experience in recent years strongly suggests that religious authority, like most other kinds, is in a moment of crisis, A justifiable but over-vigorous reaction to some previous styles of operation has often been the immediate occasion of this. Other causes, however, have also contributed to the situation: the emergence of a strong culture-consciousness in certain areas; the introduc-tion of new processes and patterns whether offered postively, negatively, or simply as a change from what existed before; the need to make values and structures correspond more evidently; the evolution of ideas about religious life itself and about the Church; and even the very fact of having lived since the late 1960's in experimental conditions which often did not provide clearly for the exercise of authority. The crisis is something which ultimately affects fundamental values in religious life: identity, apostolic efficacy, the nature and importance of consecration, the future form of religious life as such. Because of its potentially serious consequences, the crisis cannot be ignored. In fact, many institutes are facing it very honestly. Responses vary. A few follow the ostrich in seeming to assume that if no attention is paid to it, the situation will disappear of its own accord. Some tend to extremes: a holding to the status quo as if nothing had happened, or a leap into a pattern which involves the virtual dissipation, or at least the non-exercise, of any real authority. Some 197 "19~1 / Review for Religious, .March-April, 1983 strive to keep the reality of ,authority but clothe it in a different language, often that of business management or politics. Some keep the concept in words but virtually shift the content to something else: usually participation, communica-tion, consensus or leadership. None of these responses meets the situation but each indicates the realization that there is a situation to be faced. More recent lines of development show a growing awareness of the need to relate religious authority to religious obedience, and both to the ecclesial dimension of consecrated life. Sisters are realizing that the authority question can only be handled adequately on the level of faith and of relation to the Church, and they are trying to find expressions which will simultaneously r~flect faith, foster life and values, meet present realities, and be in accord both with the Church's common law and with the best traditions of their institute. One such line of development is based on a better appreciation Of the service rendered by authority. Current attempts to express this are frequently contradictory because the service of authority is taken to mean either authority and service or authority as service and the conclusions drawn are not wholly consistent with either one or the other. But if authority of itself is service--that is, if by the fact of being itself it serves religious life necessarily and fruitfully-- we have a line with rich possibilities. It is some of these lines which 1 hope to explore. Before doing so, I think that a few clarifications are in order. First, I will not be speaking about authority in general but only about religious authority: the authority properly exercised in a religious congregation because of its recognition by the Church. Secondly, since without it the religious congregation would not exist as such, I will be assuming that the reality of religious authority itself is not in question but that much of the crisis lies in the evolution of structures and the search for suitable styles of exercise. Thirdly, I will restrict my reflection to the experience of congregations of sisters of apostolic life. This is partly because it is in them that questions regarding authority and government are sharply presented, and partly because my own experience is extensively with them and my reflections are largely conditioned by their sharing. The reflections fall into three main phases--a look at religious authority itself as it is seen in Jesus, in the Church and in religious institutes; then the service of authority in religious government; and finally some of the strengths, confusions and questions in the service of authority at present. I. The Service of Religious Authority 1.1 In Jesus Probably the most familiar scene associated with the authority of Jesus is the one at the end of St. Matthew's gospel (Mt 28:19-20).__.M_a.~y Of Magdala and the other Mary have been mandated, first by the angel at the tomb (28:7) and then by the risen Lord himself (28:10) to tell the disciples, "my brothers," to go to Galilee. It is a solemn convocation to the "mountain where Jesus arranged to meet them." There, before the adoration of some and the hesitation of others, Jesus makes his last, confident claim, gives his last The Service of Religious Authority / 199 command, and pledges his last promise in a setting which, for Matthew, recalls the old law of Sinai and the new law of the beatitudes. The claim is absolute-- "All authority in heaven and on earth is given to me" (Mt 28:19), and, to make this effective, he promises to be with them until the end of time (Mt 28:20). Therefore, in the work of evangelization--preaching, baptizing, teaching, carrying God's word everywhere and to all the ages--the inner strength, impulse and power are always that of Christ himself, to whom all authority is given. To the disciples, this can hardly have been surprising. Many knew Jesus as one who had authority and who exercised it. He spoke with authority and not as the scribes and pharisees (Mt 7:28-29): he interpreted the law on no authority but his own (Mt 5:21-22 ff.); he ordered evil spirits to go forth, and they went (Mt 8:32); he commanded the winds and the seas, and they obeyed him (Mt 9:27): he had authority over sickness (Mt 8:14-15); blindness (Mt 9:29); deafness (Mk 9:7-35); dumbness (Mt 9:32-33); lameness (Mt 15:30); paralysis (Mk 2:!1); sin (Mk 2:10): and death itself (Lk 7:15). The authority he exercised in regard to the disciples was unquestioned. So also was the fact that, when he chose, he could confer on others authority similar to his own. Sometimes the authority was for a short period, as when the apostles who had rejoiced exuberantly in it during their first mission (Mk 6:7, 30) found that they no longer had it when they tried to cure the boy possessed, at the foot of Tabor (Mk 9:18). Sometimes it was promised for a longer future, as to Peter after his confession of faith (Mr 16:18): and by the lake of Tiberias it was given in a definitive way (Jn 21:15-17). Jesus was Lord and Master, Shepherd and Teacher, King, though not of this world; Lord of the Sabbath, Messiah and Son of the living God. His authority was never in doubt. According to his own testimony, however, this authority was neither assumed nor taken by acclaim, but given. Like his priesthood, it was not something that Jesus conferred upon himself or took of his own initiative (see Heb 5:4), nor was it something that he Would accept from the acclamation of delighted followers who wanted to make him King (Jn 6:15). It was, as he himself said, "given" and given by the Father. For this reason, his authority was unlike any other. Intimately connected with his person as Son and with his mission as Redeemer, it served a purpose which was the Father's business (see Jn 14:31), the "will of him who sent me" (Jn 5:30). It extended to all things in heaven and on earth. It was clearly distinct in its exercise from the authority of "the rulers of this world who lord it over their subjects" (Jn 22:25) and it was used to give life (Jn 10:10) and to heal (Mr 8:16); to teach (Mr 5:14); to save (Jn 12:47); to forgive (Mr 9:6); to sanctify (Jn I: 12); to unite (Jn 17:21); to bind and loose in heaven (Mr 18:18); to send in evangelizing mission (Mk 16:16); to found the Church (Mr 16:!8). 1.2 In the Church It is this authority, exercised for the same purpose and in the same manner, that Christ continues in his Church by his presence to the end of time. Peter's 200 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 authority was something that was given as a matter of faith: it was Christ's authority invested in him. He knew it when he said to the man at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple: "In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, get up and walk" (Ac 3:7). He knew it when he helped phrase the decision of the so-called Council of Jerusalem in the words: "It has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us" (Ac 15:25). He experienced it in the inner changes of values that he had to make in order to welcome Cornelius (Ac 10:34, 42) and to break with the Judaizers at Antioch (Ga 2:i1-14). Exercising the authority of binding and loosing that Christ had uniquely given him (Mt 16:19) and confident in the Lord's prayer for him (Lk 22:32), Peter confirmed his brethren with a power which he knew was pure gift. It was at the service of Christ's mission. It depended for its efficacy on an intimate personal relation and loving obedience to the Master who had conferred it and it was exercised for Christ's purposes and in Christ's way even to union with him in martyrdom. The same characteristics marked Paul's exercise of authority. "Be imitators of me as I am of Christ" ( I Co 4:1) was his cryptic summary of his own place in relation to the Lord who was his life (Ph 1:20) and the new Christians who were his responsibility. He could appeal, and did, to the moral authority of example which can result from the quality of life, of work and of prayer in someone who is fully living his or her baptism. But he had another kind, too: a personal authority given him by God for his work among the gentiles whereby, in union with Peter, he could inspire, instruct, encourage, correct, judge, and organize the Churches he founded in order to lead them to the fullness of Christ. In using it, he made a careful distinction between what was common teaching "from the Lord," as he called it, and what was his own opinion (1 Co 7:10, 12). He was particular not to profit from it in any way personally (! Th 3:8-9 and 1 Co 9:15-18) and he was at pains to ensure that it was continued in his young Churches (2 Tm 1:6, 2:1-2). So we find him constantly instructing, correcting errors whether of doctrine in Galatia or of manner of life in Corinth, fostering order in the local Churches whether liturgical (1 Co !1) or organizational (Tt 1:15) or in the matter of interpersonal relations (Ph 4:2). When necessary, he appealed for material support from them ( I Co 16:I-4 and Rm 15:25). None of this was done without suffering, as the second letter to the Corintl~ians makes clear. The authority of Christ was only exercised in the way of Christ--through the passion and resurrection, and Paul's was a paschal experience. Religious authority in both Peter and Paul was the power of Christ given them and acting through them to fulfill the purposes for which the Church was founded. From their time onwards, the essential authority of the Church has been the same. Her task is to save, to sanctify, to unite, to r~concile to the Father, and to spread the good news of Jesus Christ concretely to all nations and to the end of time. She is, in Vatican ll's beautiful phrase, the sacrament of salvation. She therefore has to direct, judge and teach with an authority that cannot come from her members and which she cannot take upon herself but The Service of Religious Authority / 201 which is the authority of Christ whose presence she is. Her intimate union and identification with him ensure that his own authority is exercised in and through her. It does not, however, make her proof against human weakness in her style of exercising it, any more than it protected Peter from errors of judgment or Paul from the consequences of a volatile temperament. In the course of history much has occurred to condition the Church's structures in ways that needed later revision, and, on that level, she has been embroiled at times in uses and abuses of authority that had little to do with the authority of Christ. But the essential truth remains. The authority which is uniquely proper to the Church is a religious authority--that of Christ himself--to save, to make disciples, to preach the gospel, to bring all to the Father in every place and age. This is the authority which is exercised in the recognition of religious institutes by the Church as a microcosm of her own reality. It is to this authority that they relate; and it is this authority which gives them theirs. 1.3 In Religious Institutes There are several circumstances which require that the authority in a religious institute be an ecclesial or religious authority and not just one which meets functional or organizational needs. These circumstances touch the nature of religious life itself. Religious institutes do not originate of themselves nor do they continue entirely as a result of their own efforts and planning-- they are the result of a gift of God and they depend on him for both their origin and their continuance. Their basic reason for existence is the closer following of Jesus Christ from which, for them, everything else must flow and to which everything else must be related. Moreover, they are in a special way God's gift to the Church: their way of life makes good sense only on the level of faith; they witness to realities and absolutes that are neither tangible nor visible, and it is only in virtue of the Church's recognition and approval that they exist. Their purpose is that of Christ and of-the Church. Such institutes require an authority that operates on the level of faith, Christ and Church, and which corresponds to the obedience which the members have freely vowed as a value because of their closer following of the Christ whose love made him obedient even unto death. All religious foundresses have become aware of the need for this kind of authority as God continued to act in their lives. A variety of providential circumstances can bring Christians together to do good--Pax Christi, the Christian Social Volunteers, CAFOD, the Catholic Women's Guilds would be random samples, and the members of these groups need no more than the authority that results from their own self-organization in order to operate well and to achieve their purposes. Their members give to each other whatever authority is necessary for the organization to function. They are related to the Church~ not essentially or by nature of the authority which they exercise, but by the recognition of their common purpose and by the baptismal commitment 209/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 of the individual members. Some religious institutes have begun in this way. At some point in their development, however, came the realization that they were aspiring to something more than what a group of Christians, however well-intentioned, could give to itself. The desire for a total public commitment to God formally received, the need for perpetual vows, the call to follow Christ intimately and as community in his obedience, and the urge towards a particular insertion into his public mission, would be some of the reasons which would prompt a founder or foundress to ask the Church to exercise her proper authority and to recognize the institute as a religious family. The Church alone, in Christ's name, can establish a religious institute, can receive vows that are vows of religion, can give an ecclesial mission and can confer the specifically religious authority in virtue of which an institute can require its members so to live and to work as to attain the purpose for which the institute was erected. This authority, which I will call religious authority, relates particularly to consecration, vowed life, mission, formation and government. It is specific to religious institutes and it is not the same thing as organization, responsibility, power or leadership. Given by the Church, it always involves an ecclesial accountability. Moreover, religious authority is never absolute. It is invested in persons clearly designated but who for the most part may not operate alone, and it is mediated through structures, usually worked out by the foundress in dialogue with the Church, which express the charism, nature, spirit and purpose of the institute and which are approved in its constitutions. Such authority makes possible a life of vowed obedience. Moreover, it is necessary for it. It is true, of course, that the structures by which religious authority is mediated can become outdated. They can atrophy, be abused or manipulated, lose contact with reality, or fail to function. They can reach a stage when they no longer correspond to or express the values that they are meant to foster. They then need to be revised and renewed. For this process, it is of the utmost importance to bear in mind the nature, purpose and source of religious authority, since models that are suitable to other forms are not necessarily appropriate to the structures of authority in religious life. It is also necessary to remember and respect the strongly ecclesial dimension of religious authority since this makes renewal of authority structures always a matter of dialogue with the Holy See and not simply the unilateral initiative of an institute. We further need to keep clear the correlation of authority with charism and life as expressed in the institute's own sound traditions, since this gives the best practical guidance for structures which will reaffirm the institute's identity in creative fidelity, continuity and openness. Where structures are renewed in this way, authority is a fruitful reality serving the purposes for which religious life exists. It is a witness to him who came not to be served but to serve and who used fiis authority at the service of the kingdom. Where the renewal of structures somehow loses sight of the unique nature, ecclesial dimension, and The Service of Religious Authority / 203 charismatic continuity of religious authority on the level of faith, it can ultimately betray religious life itself by secularizing it, in the negative sense, in what is fundamental to it. The various crises of authority at present lie at various points between these two possibilities. II. The Service of Authority in Religious Government 2.1 The Model The model of the authority that serves is Christ, the Servant of Yahweh. He to whom all power is given in heaven and on earth is also, and without diminishing either aspect, the one who came to serve, who emptied himself, obeyed even to the cross, and gave his life as a ransom for many. Clearly in ,iesus authority and service are not in contradiction. One is not at the expense of the other and there is no tension of opposites having to be held in balance. He refers easily to both, as when he is washing Peter's feet (,in 13:14), and he never attempts to justify either. Being at once Son and Servant, he exercises both authority and service as one, and this is of the essence of his incarnation. As religious, the goal of our life is the closer following of Christ in all its fullness but there is no doubt that we have a certain difficulty with this aspect of his reality. This may be because we tend to separate the concepts of authority and service in a way which he does not. ,iesus is concerned with the reality of each; he never confuses them, but they are one in his person. We tend to oppose them and to get involved in words to describe them. For example, we often think or speak of authority as an abstraction. Its synonym is power, with connotations of lordship, mastery, might and force that move easily into oppression and violence. Its implications are efficiency and the carrying out of orders. Its contrary is subservience. We think of service as a function accom-plished or something done in view of helping another, whether this is a kindly individual act like giving a hand to an old person, or a public utility, like driving a bus, or the meeting of a national need like the operation of civil service. Its synonym is action in relation to something or action in view of something. It implies somehow being less or becoming less than another. Its contrary is command. We tend, therefore, to identify authority with the power and lordship which are the contrary of service and, because of the negative connotations which we attach to it, we try in fact to avoid its exercise in-common life, to reduce or even to eliminate it, and we forego, perhaps too simplistically, the potential which it has for holiness and for fruitfulness in the apostolate. Yet Christ had authority, used it, and did not hesitate to speak of it and to confer it. It enriched, and in no way d

Issue 41.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1982. ; REVIEW FOR REIolGIOI.IS (ISSN 0034-639X). published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOLIS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO, © 1982 by REVIEW FOR REI,IGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscfip!ion U.S.A.: $9.00 a year; $1"/.00 for two years. Olher countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW Eou RELIC.IOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Dululh, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Sept./Oct., 1982 Volume 41 Number 5 Manuscripts, hooks for review and correspondence wilh thc editor should be sent to REVII.:W FOR R~:I.,(;~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be senl Io Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuil Community; SI. Joseph's University; Cily Avenue at 541h SI.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:v~:w ~ou REL~(aOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Letters of Gratitude Robert F. Morneau In this article, Bishop Morneau is attempting an experiment, the inspiration of which he explains in his introduction. If his effort responds to a sufficient desire in the audience, he has other letters to other authors already in mind. Bishop Morneau, Auxiliary Bishop of Green Bay, has an office at Ministry to Priests Program; 1016 N. Broadway; De Pere, WI 54115. How many of us, well-intentioned indeed, have been moved to express gratitude for gifts received but, lacking either sufficient discipline or crowded by pressing demands, have failed to properly recognize our benefactors. I stand self-accused! Though trained in younger years to promptly send thank-you notes, distance from gracious family policies has allowed this excellent habit to diminish ,and finally disappear. This present collection of thank you letters, though long overdue, attempts to make restitution; it seeks to halt my proclivity to take things for granted. Several stimuli have served as prods in this present endeavor. One was Flannery O'Connor's The Habit of Being. l found in her collected letters a style of discourse that might be labeled "heart .talk": simple, direct and highly personal Listening in to her conversations with a variety of persons proved to be for me enriching and inspiring. A second stimulus came from a reflection of Henri Nouwen in his sensitive autobiographical piece The Genesee Diary: Meanwhile, it remains remarkable how little is said and written about letter writing as an important form of ministry. A good letter can change the day for someone in pain. can chase away feelings of resentment, can create a smile and bring jo.t, to the heart. After all, a good part of the New Testament consists of letters, and some of the most profound insights are written down in letters between people who are attracted to each other by a deep personal affection, l~tter writing is a very important art, especially for those who want to bring the good news (p. 70-71). A third and most important stimulus comes from a personal desire, i.e., a longing that others might meet some of the people who have touched my life. 641 642 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 Their wisdom and gifts are too valuable to remain on shelves, collecting dust while our spirits remain famished. These jottings of mine are means to an end. They attempt to draw the reader to lovingly pursue the .full text of each author addressed. The passages 1 have included are merely hors d'oeuvres; the main course lies in the books themselves. Our libraries contain a wealth of material that boggles the mind How to be selective in such a rich mine; what gems to carry out and which to leave behind? The choice, like all choices, causes us joy in the books withdrawn, sorrow at what must be foregone because of our limitations. But then there are other seasons for further reading and future generations to ponder other authors. Three letters are contained in this series. The first is written to Julian of Norwich (b. 1342 - d. 1416). In her masterpiece of spiritual literature, Showings, Julian articulates how God revealed himself in her life. Her work is marked by clarity and depth, compassion and keen sensitivit.v, theological precision and accu-racy. The work is a deep personal witness of how the human heart is touched b), divine love. The second letter is addressed to Simone Weil. She lived from 1909 to 1943. She was a brilliant mathematician and philosopher and became deeply involved in social and political issues. Though attracted to Catholicism, she never was received into the Church. Her writings show deep sensitivity and keen intelli-gence. Ralph Waldo Emerson, an American essayist and poet, is the recipient of the third letter. He lived from 1803 to 1882. His essays are filled with poetic insight and challenging convictions. He was a gifted man who articulated well the inner journey. Hopefully, these letters will draw us into a deeper appreciation of three who journeyed before us. Hopefully, too, we will be challenged to read the primary sources. Julian Norwich, England Dear Julian, I write in gratitude for your spiritual journal which has touched the heart of the human condition in many ~vays. For those who are skeptical of private revelations, and I am one of them, your writings indicate that such workings of God are authentic when received and expressed in grace. I would like to share now some of the themes and reflections that touch my spirit. Your God! Courteous, accessible and familiar! At the heart of such a theology is your intense awareness of a God whose love is personal, a God who waits and longs for us, his people. I noted that you used the adjective "courteous" of God well over fifty .times, driving home the point of his graciousness and intense affectivity. How attractive this is: to be drawn by love to God rather than to be exposed to harsh attributes of anger and wrath. And what a struggle you had to Letters of Gratitude / 645 find the compatibility between wrath in God and his rich courtesy. Yet your sense of sin and the necessity of mercy permeate all your writings. Sin is offensive to God indeed; yet his love comes to our sinfulness in mercy and healing. The God you experienced is indeed the God of Scripture. You are now famous, you know, for calling God "mother." More specifically, you applied this term to Jesus because it is through him that we are reborn and nurtured in our new life. He carries us, as a mother does her child, in fruitful pregnancy. Based on this analogy of birth, nurturing and pregnancy, the only fitting term is "mother." Hopefully, this beautiful image will not be lost because of myopic imagination or airtight theologies. In your life of seclusion, the charge might be made in our age of high social consciousness that you lived a truncated spirituality. However, your reflections constantly call people to virtue, the practical living out in specific ways the love of God experienced in prayer. Moreover, you often use the expression "fellow-Chris-tians" which indicates that you were deeply concerned about all people. Thomas Merton once stated that he never felt so close to God and his fellow pilgrims as when he was in solitude. That paradoxical experience was also part of your life and you shared it with us well. Speaking of well-ness! A constant refrain is that "all will be well." Time and time again you drive us back to the mystery of providence and the demand for trust in the Lord. The great deed of God will be to bring about total healing of .history and creation. We stand too close to pain to realize this but you had. the faith to believe in the darkness. Indeed, faith is the ability to say "I know that you know." Yet in the darkness of our pain and frailty we want all to be well now, unable and unwilling to accept the woe that comes our way. Again you call us to a central spiritual truth: well-being or woe is not the heart of the matter, rather it is doing the will of the Father. In this lies all holiness and peace. You are a good teacher. Through the analogy of a hazelnut (183), you draw together the mysteries of being created, loved and preserved; the image of a knot (284), points out the tremendous bonding between God and ourselves; at the bottom of the sea (193) you remind us of God's continual presence; in the magnifi-cent image of the city (337) you point out how God dwells forever in our inner abode; in the analogy of the king-servant (188ff) we are present with the familiar and personal working relationship between the Creator and his creature. Add to these pictures of wounds, a purse, the ground, a gardener, a citadel, and you bring us through images into insight. These delightful mental "buckets" help us to retain a wealth of truth and theology. Romanticism gives way to realism because you lived constantly in the shadow of the cross and the experience of suffering that such discipleship entails. You longed to taste.the sufferings of Jesus, your Beloved. Thus your spiritual life was a mixture of consolation and desolation; you accepted this as your Savior did in his life. Very helpful is your description of the alternating movements of the spirits and the constant challenge to accept either with equal peace of mind. Our natural inclination is to flee pain, poverty and deprivation; grace allows us to endure and 644 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 participate in this dark side of life and thereby make great spiritual progress. Attitude of mind is crucial; grace is necessary to train us in proper disposition. The fact that we have little or no control over the alternating spirits deep within adds its own unique cross. Acceptance of this fact is a key to spiritual maturity. In what lies happiness? What is heaven? You respond to these questions with directness and simplicity. Heaven is Jesus: happiness is found in personal relation-ships with our God and his creation. Having things is replaced by being possessed by Love. Being is more significant than doing, though the latter will follow freely when love is embraced. Further, God's bliss is in us--we are his delight, his bliss, his crown. What magnificent mutuality here! God's countenance never changes, his eyes are always filled with love, his smile is graciously upon us. A God who delights in his creatures--you have repeated well the message of the psalmist. Central to our relationship with God is prayer. I really enjoyed your distinction between higher and lower contemplation (339), the former focusing on God's love and causing spiritual joy and delight, the latter gazing upon sin and keeping us in reverential fear and holy shame. What a beautiful balance, a trait that is discernible throughout your writings. Indeed, without contemplation we begin to distance ourselves from our subjective experience and thus from the Lord. Yet he remains ever close; we must be disposed to hear and respond to his slightest touch. Two last points are of great interest to me: the constant reference to divine indwelling and the seeking/finding theme. God has, in his inscrutable providence, decided to make his home within our being. From this flows an incomprehensible dignity that we are challenged to attend to. With such a guest, how reverently we should live! It is because of our blindness and insensitivity that we fail many times to live within this presence. Then too, Julian, you speak of two movements that are of great importance: seeking the Lord and finding him. For you indicate that in the finding we receive consolation and deep joy; in the seeking, the Lord is pleased and delighted. Both are good, yet what is central is the Lord's will. Thus if we are to find the Lord, then we should rejoice in such a grace. Come what may, it is recognizing and doing God's will that determines sanctity. For your lightness of touch, for your sharing of faith vision, for your modeling of prayer, for your gentle humanness, I thank you. With deep affection, RFM Happiness Contentment For until I am substantially united to him, I can never have perfect rest or true happiness, until, that is, 1 am so attached to him that there can be no created thing between my God and me. (183) For this is the loving yearning of the soul through the touch of the Holy Spirit. from the understanding which I have in this revelation: God, of your goodness give me yourself, for you are enough for me, and I can ask for nothing which is less which can pay you full worship. And if I ask anything which is less, always I am in want; but only in you do I have everything. (184) Letters of Gratitude / 845 God's Will Relativity Pleasing God ¯. and therefore we may with reverence ask from our lover all that we will, for our natural will is to have God, and God's good will is to have us, and we can never stop willing or loving until we possess him in the fullness of joy. And there we can will no more, for it is his will that we be occupied in knowing and loving until the time comes that we shall be filled full in heaven¯ (186) But the reason why it seemed to my eyes so little was because I saw it in the presence of him who is the Creator. To any soul who sees the Creator of all things, all that is created seems very little¯ (190) And this vision taught me to understand that the soul's constant search pleases God greatly¯ For it cannot do more than seek, suffer and trust. And this is accomplished in every soul, to whom it is given by the Holy Spirit. And illumination by finding is of the Spirit's special grace, when it is his will. Seeking with faith, hope and love pleases our Lord, and finding pleases the soul and fills it full of joy. And so I was taught to understand that seeking is as good as contemplating, during the time that he wishes to permit the soul to be in labor. It is God's will that we seek on until we see him, for it is through this that he will show himself to us, of his special grace, when it is his will. And he will teach a soul himself how it should bear itself when it contem-plates him, and that is the greatest honor to him and the greatest profit to the soul, and it receives most humility and other virtues, by the grace and guidance of the Holy Spirit¯ For it seems to me that the greatest honor which a soul can pay to God is simply to surrender itself to him with true confidence, whether it be seeking or contemplating. These are the two activities which can be seen in this vision: one is seeking, the other is contemplating. Seeking is common to all, and every soul can have through grace and ought to have discretion and teaching from Holy Church¯ It is God's will that we receive three things from him as gifts as we seek¯ The first is that we seek willingly and diligently without sloth, as that may be with his grace, joyfully and happily, without unreasonable depression and useless sorrow. The second is that we wait for him steadfastly, out of love for him, without grumbling and contending against him, to the end of our lives, for that will last only for a time¯ The third is that we have great trust in him, out of complete and true faith, for it is his will that we know that he will appear, suddenly and blessedly, to all his lovers. For he works in secret, and he will be perceived, and his appearing will be very sudden¯ And he wants to be trusted, for he is very accessible, familiar and courte-ous, blessed may he be. (195-196) And in this my understanding was lifted up into heaven, where I saw our Lord God as a lord in his own house, who has called all'his friends to a splendid' feast. Then I did not see him seated anywhere in his own house; but ! saw him reign in his house as a king and fill it all full of joy and mirth, gladdening and consoling his dear friends with himself, very familiarly and courteo.usly, with wonderful melody in endless love in his own fair blissful countenance, which glorious countenance fills all heaven full of the joy and Citations are reprinted from Julian of Norwich, Showings. trans, by Edmund Colledge, O.S.A., and James Walsh, S.J., © 1978 by The Missionary Society of St. Paul the Apostle in the State of New York, used by permission of Paulist Press. 646 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 Dryness of Spirit bliss of the divinity. (203) This vision was shown to teach me to understand that some souls profit by experiencing this. to be comforted at one time, and at another to fail and to be left to themselves. God wishes us to know that he keeps us safe all the time, in sorrow and in joy; and sometimes a man is left to himself for the profit of his soul, although his sin is not always the cause. For in this time I committed no sin for which I ought to have been left to myself, for it was so sudden. Nor did I deserve these feelings of joy, but our Lord gives it freely when he wills, and sometimes he allows us to be in sorrow, and both are one love. For it is God's will that we do all in our power to preserve our consolation, for bliss lasts forevermore, and pain is passing, and will be reduced to nothing for those who will be saved. Therefore it is not God's will that when we feel pain we should pursue it in sorrow and mourning for it, but that suddenly we should pass it over, and preserve ourselves in the endless delight which is God. (205) And when we fall back into ourselves, through depression and spiritual blindness and our experience of spiritual and bodily pains, because of our frailty, it is God's will that we know that he has not forgotten us. (307) For our courteous Lord does not want his servants to despair because they fall often and grievously: for our falling does not hinder him in loving us. (245) Our Lord wants us to have true understanding, and especially in three things which belong to our prayer. The first is with whom and how our prayer originates. He reveals with whom when he says: I am the ground: and he reveals how by his goodness, because he says: First it is my will. As to the second, in what manner and how we should perform our prayers, that is that our will should be tuned, rejoicing, into the will of our Lord. And he means this when he says: I make you to wish it. As to the third; it is that we know the fruit and the end of our prayer, which is to be united and like to our Lord in all things. (250-251) II Simone Weil France Dear Simone, l write in gratitude for your essays touching on a wide range of experience: God's presence in our human condition, the plight of the worker, the meaning of affliction, the purpose of s~tudy, the struggle for justice, the future of political and economic systems. You speak from felt experience, keenly analyzing the causes and effects of human proclivities and aberrations. Provocative, inspiring, challeng-ing all, your reflections have touched many minds and hearts; your sensitive spirit has provided both theoretical and practical implications that continue to have impact on our times. Letters of Gratitude A trait that strikes me deeply is your candidness in addressing personal and collective issues. In regard to your spiritual life, you were drawn toward Catholi-cism but felt that you could not accept that stirring because in so doing you would remove yourself from large segments of the human family. While failing to see the logic of your conclusion, 1 respect your unwillingness to compromise, your com-mitment to principle. Your courage is impressive. Besides personal honesty in terms of your own life-style, you take on systems that oppress and exploit the fundamental rights of people. A deep sense of responsibility toward the common good and a powerful vision of human solidarity made you cry out wherever the dignity of people was threatened or.injured. Human respect did not paralyze you; you were willing to pay the price in your hunger and thirst for justice. A related but distinct theme is your profound insight into the philosophic patterns of means-end. The ultimate evil is to reverse the order of reality: turning means into ends (138). This principle explains so much of life. Other authors concur with your observation but from slightly different angles: C. $. Lewis warns of getting caught on Christianity (creeds, codes, cults) and' forgetting about Christ; he notes elsewhere how writers begin to focus more on how they say things rather than the truth which is the end of all discourse. Pope John Paul 11 speaks about techhology enslaving the person whenever humans fail to exercise their proper responsibility over the instruments that they have created. All in all, exploitation and manipulation are the consequences of failing to allow'the goal to govern the process. Such a failure fosters death, not life. By profession you did spend some time teaching. In writing about this most noble vocation you articulated a thesis that all study, by its very nature, is directed toward the love of God and is a preparation for that love. The inner dynamism of the process contains the power of contemplation, that human act of loving atten-tiveness that puts us into intimate contact with reality. All study is an exercisein attention; attention is a form of contemplation: contemplation is essentially a union with reality whose ultimate source is God. In faith we bglieve that all creation in some way manifests the Creator. Thus your thesis has a firm theologi-cal basis. Regardless of the discipline, be it anthropology, sociology or literature, attentiveness to the reality exposed by these studies is indirectly preparing the alert student to love of God. What joy this is for the faith-filled teacher; what a surprise to the atheist who unwittingly leads the searching student into the embrace of God. Shakespeare once wrote: "Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel." You worked in a factory and understood from experience many of the trials of human life. From the inside you struggled with need and pain, small joys and unhappy compensations. Choice, not necessity, drew you into this world. To the extent that you did not need to remain in the w~rld of wretches, possessing the necessary resources both intellectually and materially to exit at will, there was a tinge of unreality in such a choice. Not all the strings were cut. Regardless, you tasted the full range of boredom, anomie and meaninglessness that result from situations in which people are no longer dealt with as persons but are treated as objects or machines. It was from this posture that you prophetically demanded reform in 641~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 systems that impinged negatively on the hearts and dignity of people. Your words continue to challenge our generation, caught by a vast technological network that threatens our freedom and enslaves our spirits. A special influence in your life was a poem by George Herbert entitled "Love." While concentrating with great effort on the inner meaning of this distant, sensitive man's beautiful verse, you encountered the Lord. Drawn into the dialogue of the poem your heart was captured and held fast. The intimacy and indwelling articu-lated by HerbertAake us to the heart of faith: a deep personal relationship with God that provides a basis for discipleship. The struggle expressed between the invitation to be with God and one's sense of unworthiness, between resting in the Lord and being busy with one's duties and responsibilities, between allowing God to be God and trying to control the flow of lives--all these apparently were part of your existential experience. In a single short poem, crucial life issues were raised and given a resolution: to live in his presence. Eternal joy is contingent upon our individual responseto this challenge. The ways in which God touched your life were as many as the ways in which he used you to influence others. Your awareness of this sensitive process is de-scribed by the term "instrumentality." Through various persons, seen precisely as channels of grace, the Lord made his presence felt: Fr. Perrin acting as friend-counselor transmitted a sense of faith; Homer writing in The Iliad shared a scope of reality and human interaction that enriched your sense of meaning; close friends, intervening at key moments in your life, made visible divine love in word and deed. Having known the divine presence, you in turn shared, through your finely honed gifts, your interpretation of that experience. The Creator and creature in dynamic mutuality! St. Francis' prayer experienced and lived! All of us who have read your works know firsthand the power, meaning and joy of this instrumentality. Sincerely, R.F.M. Friendship Fear But the greatest blessing you have brought me is of another order. In gaining my friendship by your charity (which 1 have never met anything to equal), you have provided me with a source of the most compelling and pure inspiration that is to be found among human things. For nothing among human things has such power to keep our gaze fixed ever more intensely upon God, than friendship for the friends of God. (19) Everybody knows that really intimate conversation is only possible between two or three. As soon as there are six or seven, collective language begins to dominate. That is why it is a complete misinterpretation to apply to the Church the words "Wheresoever two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them." Christ did not say two hundred, or fifty, or ten. He said two or three. He said precisely that he always forms the third in the intimacy of the tete-a-tete: (23) As always happens, mental confusion and passivity leave free scope to the imagination. On all hand~ one is obsessed by a representation of social life Letters of Gratitude Prayer Joy Presence Unhappiness Expression which, while differing considerably from one class to another, is always made up of m~,,steries, occult qualities, myths, idols and monsters; each one thinks that power resides mysteriously in one of the classes to which he has no access, because hardly anybody understands that it resides nowhere, so that the dominant feeling everywhere is that dizzy fear which is always brought about by loss of contact with reality. (37) The key to a Christian conception of studies is the realization that prayer consists of attention. It is the orientation of all the attention of which the soul is capable toward God. The quality of the attention counts for much in the quality of prayer. Warmth of heart cannot make up for it. (44) The intelligence can only be led by desire. For there to be desire, there must be pleasure and joy in the work. The intelligence only grows and bears fruit in joy. The joy of learning is as indispensable in study as breathing is in running. Where it is lacking there are no real students, but only poor caricatures of apprentices who, at the end of their apprenticeship, will not even have a trade. (48) Not only does the love of God have attention for its substance; the love of neighbor, which we know to be the same love, is made of this same substance. Those who are unhappy have no need for anything in this world but people capable of giving them their attention. The capacity to give one's attention to a sufferer is a very rare and difficult thing: it is almost a miracle; it is a miracle. Nearly all those who think they have this capacity do not possess it. Warmth of heart, impulsiveness, pity are not enough . The love of our neighbor in all its fullness simply means being able to say to him: ~What are you going through?". This way of looking is first of all attentive. The soul empties itself of all its own contents in order to receive into itself the being it is looking at, just as he is, in all his truth. (51) Nothing is more difficult to know than the nature of unhappiness: a residue of mystery will always cling to it. For, following the Greek proverb, it is dumb. To seize its exact shadings and causes presupposes an aptitude for inward analysis which is not characteristic of the unhappy. Even if that aptitude existed in this or that individual, unhappiness itself would balk such an activity of thought. Humiliation always has for its effect the crea-tion of forbidden zones where thought may not venture and which are shrouded by silence and illusion. When the unhappy complain, they almost always complain in superficial terms, without voicing the nature of their true discontent; moreover, in cases of profound and permanent unhappi-ness, a strongly developed sense of shame arrests all lamentation. Thus, every unhappy condition among men creates the silent zone alluded to, in which each is isolated as though on an island. Those who do escape from the island will not look back. The exceptions turn out almost always to be more apparent,than real. (64) No thought attains to its fullest existence unless it is incarnated in a human environment, and by environment I mean something open to the world around, something which is steeped in the surrounding society and is in contact with the whole of it, and not simply a closed circle of disciples Citations are reprinted with permission from the book The Sirnone Weil Reader. edited by George Panichas, © 1977. Published by David McKay Co., Inc. 650 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 Silence Suffering Joy Instrumentality Idea Suffering Failings around a master. (84) The whole of space is filled, even though sounds can be heard, with a dense silence which is not an absence of sound but is a positive sound object of sensation; it is the secret world, the world of Love who holds us in his arms from the beginning. (87) I am convinced that affliction on the one hand, and on the other hand joy, when it is a complete and pure commitment to perfect beauty, are the only two keys which give entry to the realm of purity, where one can breathe: the home of the real. But each of them must be unmixed: the joy without a shadow of incompleteness, the affliction completely unconsoled. You understand me, of course. That divine love which one touches in the depth of affliction, like Christ's resurrection through crucifixion, that love which is the central core and intangible essence of joy, is not a consola-tion. It leaves pain completely intact . for anyone in affliction, evil can perhaps be defined as being everything that gives any consolation. (92-93) We know that joy is the sweetness of contact with the love of God, that affliction is the wound of this same contact when it is painful, and that only the contact matters, not the manner of it. (107) It is more suitable for some thoughts to come by direct inspiration; it is more suitable for others to be transmitted through some creature. God uses either way with his friends. It is well-known that no matter what thing, a donkey for instance, can be used as agent without making any difference. It pleases God perhaps to choose the most worthless objects for this purpose. I am obliged to tell myself these things so as not to be afraid of my own thoughts. (110) Now, everybody knows from his own experience how unusual it is for an abstract idea having a long-term utility to triumph over present pains, needs and desires. It must, however, do so in the matter of social existence, on pain of a regression to a primitive form of life. (150) ¯ . . for the understanding of human suffering is dependent upon justice, and love is its condition. (181) In private life also, each of us is always tempted to set his own failings to a certain extent, on one side. relegate them to some attic, invent some method of calculation ~hereby they turn out to be of no real consequence. To give way to this temptation is to ruin the soul; it is the one above all, that has to be conquered. (187) III Ralph Waldo Emerson New England Dear Mr. Emerson, I write in gratitude for the brilliant essays that have flown so freely from your generous pen. Few subjects escape your incisive gaze and contemplative spirit. Letters of Gratitude / 65"1 History, personalities, nature, culture, education, politics, religion have all elicited your comments and artistic revelation. Lecture halls in America and Europe still reecho with the sound of your voice; the mind and heart of many a transcendental-ist quiver with awe at your observations. Even the woods and hills of New England have never been the same since your vision of their very essence. The inward journey! If for no other reason than this, your writings challenge our achievement-oriented generation and activistic culture to reexamine its values and life-style. Prime time and energy must be budgeted for personal interior renewal. You model well for us here. Interiority was a way of life which you evidenced by the depth of your writing. Your words come from a source far beyond your own power; one can sense this in the tone of your discourse. Your contemplative stance presents a viable option for many of us desirous of a life-style radically different from the one offered by our culture. Another world that is not primarily concerned with productivity and external achievements is available to anyone who desires it. Your life makes present such a choice and, though fear of the interior life remains, your courageous entrance instills hope. "Self-Reliance" is a most powerful essay. You state that the divine spark resides in all of us and tends to be activated in sporadic moments. All have the potential in varying degress for genius--those with developed artistic skills express that genius in some visible-audible manner. My understanding of your meaning of self-reli-ance is not that we are called to some solitary, stoical, individualistic self-suffi-ciency; but rather, that we are motivated to get in touch with our deepest self, far beyond the superficial narrowness of our surface self and find therein a wealth that is wedded to the life force (what we call in theological terms, God). Such an analysis would imply that not to have self-reliance would be to cut oneself off from the source of existence. Your abhorrence of conformity and false consistency is well taken at this point. A failure to live from internalized values carries the price tag of no personal identity, a price paid by too many. Healthy and authentic self-reliance fosters true identity and its accompanying freedom. Initially, I struggled with your style--philosophic, at times highly abstract and tight. Profundity and clarity are seldom happily married because of the mysterious nature of reality. The closer one is to truth the more difficult becomes its expres-sion. Simplicity gets covered by human discourse. The mental challenge to reach beyond any style is well worth the effort. Your writings contain a spirit of deep tension between the individual and collective whole, between personal freedom and authoritarian structures, between self and institutions. You are clearly committed to the first value in each set, i.e., the individual, freedom and self. This seems so obvious that the advantages and importance of the common good are not given full weight, the necessity of some structures containing an authority is not fully appreciated, the role that a given institution can play in fostering life fails to be properly valued. Your own expe-rience of leaving the institutional ministry may have had much to do with your outlook. Perhaps the delicate balance between complementary sets of values can-not be maintained by a prophetic spirit such as yours. An implicit principle of 652 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 nature indicates that the development in one direction of our giftedness entails the underdeveloping of others. Such is reality. Thus the experience of your own genius would not allow outer pressures to thwart its expression. The negative and re-straining forces within institutional structures, the decisions of authority and the challenges of social concerns--all thirsting for precious time and energy--weighed so heavily in your judgment that their advantages had to be forfeited. Your piercing intellect cut through what is extraneous in human experience into its heart, the essence of things. In succinct, pithy phrases, you captured principles and patterns of universal significance, thus shedding light on complex experiences and bringing joy to the spirit which perceives but lacks words to articulate its insight. In a single essay many such phrases reside, awaiting discovery by the thirsting soul. For example, in "Compensation" we read: Nature hates monopolies and exceptions. There is a crack in every thing God has made. Fear is an instructor of great sagacity and the herald of all revolutions. Commit a crime, and the earth is made of glass. It is the nature of the soul to appreciate all things. How unfortunate that many have not stopped at your well of late. As a beneficiary of your life-giving water, ! express deep gratitude to you. Your legacy is vast and varied: intellectual excellence of the highest quality, challenging us to develop the rich potential of our minds; historical perspective promoting a contextual vision of life; critical analysis of incisive accuracy, drawing us out of naivete into a sense of healthy criticism; personal integrity as a key goal of growth, demanding that we be true to our own giftedness; enthusiastic living of life, abhorring stagnation and the living of others' scripts; literary expertise ranging from the classic prose to the most lyrical poetry, inviting us to revisit the verbal gems of distant ~pilgrims. These qualities have influenced many: Henry David Thoreau, Emily Dickinson, and countless others. The legacy has not been forgotten. Sincerely, R.F.M. Revelation Perspective We distinguish the announcements of the soul, its manifestations of its own nature, by the term Revelation. These are always attended by the emotion of the sublime. For this communication is an influx of the Divine mind into our mind. It is an ebb of the individual rivulet before the flowing surges of the sea of life. Every distinct apprehension of this central com-mandment agitates men with awe and delight. A thrill passes through all men at the reception of new truth, or at the performance of a great action, which comes out of the heart of nature. In these communications the power to see is not separated from the will to do, but the insight proceeds from obedience, and the obedience proceeds from a joyful perception. (269) The field cannot be well seen from within the field. The astronomer must Letters of Gratitude / 653 Hope Beauty Poet Words Beauty Wisdom Expectation Action Presence have his diameter of the earth's orbit as a base to find the parallax of any star. (285) But the man and woman of seventy assume to know a[[, they have outlived their hope, they renounce aspiration, accept the actual for the necessary and talk down to the young, Let them then become organs of the Holy Ghost; let them be lovers; let them behold truth: and their eyes are uplifted. their wrinkles smoothed, they are perfumed again with hope and power. (289) Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us, or we find it not. (309) Too feeble fall the impressions of nature on us to make us artists. Every touch should tbrill. Every man should be so much an artist that he could report in conversation what had befallen him. Yet, in our experience, the rays or appulses have sufficient force to arrive at the senses, but not enough to reach the quick and compel the reproduction to themselves in speech. The poet is the person in whom these powers are in balance, the man without impediment, who sees and handles that which others dream of, traverses the whole scale of experience, and is representative of man, in virtue of being the largest power to receive and to impart. (321) Words and deeds are quite indifferent modes of the divine energy. Words are also actions, and actions are a kind of words. (322) Wherever snow falls or water flows or birds fly, wherever day and night meet in twilight, wherever the blue heaven is hung by clouds or sown with stars, wherever are forms with transparent boundaries, wherever are outlets into celestial space, wherever is danger, and awe. and love--there is Beauty, plenteous as rain, shed for thee, and though thou shouldst walk the world over, thou shalt not be able to find a condition inopportune or ignoble. (341) To finish the moment, to find the journey's end in every step of the road, to live the greatest number of good hours, is wisdom. (350) I compared notes with one of my friends who expects everything of the universe and is disappointed when anything is less than the best, and I found that ! begin at the other extreme, expecting nothing, and am always full of thanks for moderate goods. (351) Therefore all just persons are satisfied with their own praise. They refuse to explain themselves, and are content that new actions should do them that office. They believe that we communicate without speech and above speech, and that no right action of ours is quite unaffecting to our friends, at whatever distance; for the influence of action is not to be measured by miles. (358) Why should 1 fret myself because a circumstance has occurred which hinders my presence where I was expected? If I am not at the meeting, my presence where 1 am should be as useful to the commonwealth of friend-ship and wisdom, as would be my presence in that place. I exert the same quality of power in all places. (358) Reprinted from The Selected Writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson edited by Brooks Atkinson. Pub-lished by Random House, Inc. 654 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 Truth Joy Life Renewal Faith Avarice Truth is the summit of being: justice is the application of it to affairs. (368) On the other part, rectitude is a perpetual victory, celebrated not by cries of joy but by serenity, which is joy fixed or habitual. (370) Life goes headlong. We chase some flying scheme, or we are hunted by some fear or command behind us. But if suddenly we encounter a friend, we pause: our heat and hurry look foolish enough: now pause, now posses-sion is required, and the power to swell the moment from the resources of the heart. The moment is all. in all noble relations. (378) The criticism and attack on institutions, which we have witnessed, has made one thing plain, that society gains nothing whilst a man, not himself renovated, attempts to renovate things around him: he has become tediously good in some particular but negligent or narrow in the rest; and hypocrisy and vanity are often the disgusting result. (455) The disease with which the human mind now labors is want of faith. (458) A canine appetite for knowledge was generated, which must still be fed but was never satisfied, and this knoffledge, not being directed on action, never took the character of substantial, humane truth, blessing those whom it entered. It gave the scholar certain powers of expression, the power of speech, the power of poetry, of literary art, but it did not bring him to peace or to beneficence. (459) Address: The Contemporary Spirituality Of the Monastic Lectio by Matthias Neuman, O.S.B. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Poverty, Time, Solitude: A Context for a Celibate Life-style Anthony Wieczorek, O.Praem. Brother Wieczorek's ~Parables and Paradigms" appeared in the July/August issue. He resides presently at the Holy Spirit House of Studies; 4841 South Woodlawn Ave.; Chicago, IL 60615. Celibacy is a dimension of a religious way of life. To be understood, therefore, celibacy must be seen in the context of religious life. The meaning of celibacy arises out of its relationship with the complementary vows of poverty and obedience, as well as out of the significance of communal life, prayer, and basic Christian virtue. Seen out of the context of all these elements, celibacy suffers a deprivation and a distortion. From the outset, it is important to be reminded that celibacy is not simply an ethic. Taken out of its context, celibacy is often reduced to being a moral direc-tive-- a negative moral directive. Celibacy is much more than a set of specific sexual mores; it is an extension of Christian virtue, a continuation of it. The sexual demeanor proper to celibacy rests upon Christian virtues and values such as respect for human dignity, single-heartedness, the sacredness of human life, a deep appreciation for what friendship and love can be, compassion, selflessness, and service. A discussion of celibacy must begin here. Before a decision can be made about living celibately, the question must be considered: What does it mean to live a Christian way of life? Am I willing to live with the restraints and limitations imposed upon me, not by celibacy, but by basic Christian values? Only after a person is willing to try to understand, accept, and live a Christian way of life can the matter of celibacy be addressed. Without this prior realization and commitment, celibacy has no context, no depth of meaning, and is left to be nothing more than just another "Thou shalt not . To see at least some part of the richness and potential of celibacy, it must be 655 656 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 viewed as a dedication to poverty, a devotion of time, and a dependence upon solitude. Celibacy as a Dedication to Poverty The vow of celibacy stands nearest to the vow of poverty. Hence, it is an understanding of poverty that sheds the most light upon an understanding of celibacy. If poverty as a way of life cannot be embraced, neither can celibacy. Poverty is precisely a way of living. It is much more than not having the money to buy something .To be poor means to be without many of the everyday options and opportunities that people who are not poor have. To be poor means, among other things, to live in a constant situation of restriction and limitedness. A poor person has not the option of going to a movie or a ball game, of eating apple pie or cherry, of going to one restaurant rather than another, of wearing these shoes or those, this coat or that. Very often poor people do not have these options because they do not have the physical resources that allow for them. Yet despite being deprived of these "necessities" the poor can live happy and holy lives. The fact of poverty, the force of its physical reality, compels people who are poor to live according to needs and not simply wants. Poverty can "cleanse" us of the unnecessary. It can put us into a situation where we are able to more clearly distinguish between a need and a want. Poverty can liberate us from the bondage of wants, leaving us free to pursue our true needs, those things without which we cannot fully live a human life. Poverty can be humbling by forcing us to face our needs but it can also teach us that happiness lies not in having every want satisfied but in having our true needs satisfied. Seen in this light, poverty is the paradigm for celibacy. Celibacy is not simply a deprivation, it is a way of life. Therefore, it must be a way of relating. While we can be impoverished in some ways of expressing love, we can be rich in others. After all, intimacy does not depend upon sexual expression any more than a meaningful gift depends upon price. The very restrictedness of our expression can heighten the value of a poem or letter or a simple touch or smile. Celibacy, like poverty, can teach true gratitude for the beauty and preciousness of relationships. Celibacy has the potential to "cleanse" us of what is not essential and let us see what we truly need to both give and receive from people--the trust, the sharing, the dreaming. Celibacy does not demand that we repress our needs. Rather, it points them out in bolder relief and challenges us to distinguish between the frustration caused by the deprivation of needs and that caused by the depriva-tion of our wants. It sometimes requires just as much creativity to live celibately as it does to live in poverty. Do I have the grace to express myself creatively to others? If the limitedness of deliberate impoverishment can be willfully chosen and reason for gratitude in one's life still be found, if one can be satisfied to have needs fulfilled even if wants must go unsatisfied and yet remain appreciative and joyous, then perhaps such a person truly has the grace, the call to live celibately. A Context for a Celibate Life-style / 657 Such a call is a gift. It is the nature of gifts to be both given and received. Therefore, it is quite possible to refuse the gift of celibacy. One of the most common ways of refusing celibacy is by being filled with self-pity. It is not uncommon to hear celibates of all ages bemoan their celibacy the way an amputee bemoans the loss of a limb. Like some amputee victims, celibates can easily become lost in the conviction that they are only half human, that they are not whole. The way to overcome such feelings is not by trying to prove manliness or womanliness. Rather, the challenge is to find worth and dignity in who we are, in the deeper and more lasting qualities of humanness like compassion, the ability to listen, to laugh, to be grateful, to stand outside ourselves at the service of others. Our humanness depends upon our ability to love. That we love and are loved is a need. How we love and are loved is a want. Celibates live in the poverty of not having all their wants satisfied. Celibacy means distinguishing between needs and wants, accepting what cannot be. and finding satisfaction, thanksgiving, and peace in what is. Celibacy as a Devotion of Time One thing that poverty does provide in abundance is time. Being bereft of options does free up large amounts of time. Celibacy likewise provides an abundance of time. The challenge is how that time is to be spent, what our time is to be devoted to. Celibacy, for example, frees us from the time it takes to raise a family, but what does it free us for? Ideally, perhaps, we are freed for prayer, reading, study, even the opportunity to take time to see and wonder and dream. Celibacy also frees us to serve, to be available for people. Yet if all we do is remain available for work and devote little or no time to prayer and reading, we are distorting celibacy by removing it from a critical dimension of its context. A big danger for both celibates and non-celibates is that they give themselves more to their jobs than to God and their families or communities. It is this issue, the proper use of time, that causes one of the biggest consternations for celibates. The tendency toward entrenchment in work can be an escape from intimacy, but it is also true that many of the occupations engaged in by celibates are extremely time-consuming and energy draining. Moreover, it is work which simply must be done. The tension between giving time and taking iime is not lessened by the fact that most celibates do recognize the necessity for being present to community and for entering into solitude with God. A celibate life-style that does not allow for time not only to recreate but also to read and reflect cannot give life to the celibate. Such a life-style will consume that person instead. One of the challenges and disciplines of celibacy is the proper use of time. While celibacy ought to provide time, in practice it often does not. Here, too, celibacy shows a connection with poverty. The poor guard and dispense their resources carefully, So too with the celibate's dispensing of time. Workaholism is as much a threat to celibacy as sexual licentiousness--perhaps 6511 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 even more so. Our consciences are sensiiive to the issue of sexual restraint but not to making mistresses out of our work. Our culture emphasizes efficiency, produc-tivity, and frowns upon anything that hints of wasting time. Therefore, celibates who find even a little free time quickly and perhaps unconsciously fill it in by doing more. Yet celibacy as a life-style requires time to be set aside not for doing but for being. Time is a gift many celibates refuse to accept because in part they are afraid to take it. Time only makes the loneliness echo more loudly. Time takes away excuses. It confronts us, Yet time in a celibate life-style is essential, for it provides the panorama that enables us to see what we are to move toward. It gives us the opportunity to see and address our needs. Time must be part of every celibate's life, for without that time celibacy loses its context and the solitude that nourishes celibacy cannot be obtained. While celibacy ought to provide time, it is a commod-ity which so few celibates seem to have. Yet time is an essential resource for the celibate for it alone can acquire solitude for us. Celibacy as a Dependence Upon Solitude Celibacy cannot be endured, let alone lived, without the time to enter into solitude with God. Only by freely and gratefully embracing solitude can a person find life in celibacy. Solitude is not loneliness but aloneness, time apart to be alone with oneself and with one's God. Solitude for the celibate is essential for several reasons. Solitude teaches surrender. It strips away the illusion of wants. It is a confrontation with what is real. of what is essential, of what is true. Solitude teaches sight. In the stillness of solitude we see what we would ordinarily have overlooked, assumed, or taken for granted. Through solitude, we are taught to appreciate, admire, and wonder. Solitude teaches sensitivity. Compassion comes from seeing with another's eyes. Solitude makes one hungry to enter into another's life deeply, personally, respectfully, and ge~atly. But often celibates do not embrace solitude. Instead we try to fill in our time with possessions, work. television, and peripheral friendships. Yet it is essential that celibates in particular spend time in solitude so as to spend time with God. In sqlitude we take time to share in God's aloneness. It is in solitude that we can more deeply fall in love with God. If a celibate does not put an effort into being at peace with solitude, into making a friend of solitude, not only does God become a stranger, but we become strangers to ourselves, and celibacy becomes an empty taunt and an ache. Solitude is so important for celibacy because solitude is a quiet moment with God in the privacy and intimacy of one's own heart. Solitude is the backdrop for the silence we need to hear the Word of God. Solitude is the setting for prayer.It directs our life back to God. There is some-thing about solitude that draws us back to center. If we are afraid to spend time with ourselves in the aloneness of our center, we will not come to commune with the silent places of God. The prayer that comes from solitude is the celibate's life blood. Without prayer, celibacy will not. cannot, endure. Without solitude spent with God we become A Context for a Celibate Life-style / 659 strangers to him and so to prayer. Prayer may lead us out of a celibate life-style, but without prayer the apparent emptiness and futility will drive us out of it. Solitude, far from removing us from relationships, prepares us for them. In solitude we have the setting in which to know ourselves, to see ourselves truly, to hear ourselves honestly. To enter into solitude is to venture into the truth of ourselves--be that what it may. With that knowledge we are free to interact with people as persons. With a sense of our own depths we can move toward the depths of others and together with them enter in faith into the depths of God. Conclusion For a full understanding of what celibacy is, it is important that a person move beyond the initial frustration and unnaturalness of living a life of Christian virtues and enter into the discovery of the real mystery and beauty of celibacy. Celibacy centers around accepting solitude, welcoming time, and living in gratitude. It is such things as these that make celibacy seem unnatural. It is not acceptable or typical to be poor, to have time for oneself and for prayer, or to enter willingly into the solitude of one's own soul. To so many, the "unnaturalness" of celibacy is reduced to sexual denial, the deliberate refusal to marry and raise a family. Yet these are only peripheral issues. The seriousness of these issues, however, under-scores the deeper difficulty of celibate life. Celibacy is not only an orientation away from family and spouse (which is hard enough), it must be an orientation toward poverty, time, and solitude. Celibacy itself is neither the sacrifice nor the offering. What we do with celi-bacy is. The beauty and fulfillment in celibacy is found not in what it moves us away from but in what it compels us toward. To find peace and sanctity in celibacy, it is not so important what we purposely and deliberately deny. Rather, it is much more important what we willingly and lovingly embrace. The Celibacy Experience Stephen Rossetti In May, Stephen Rossetti, author of "Psychology and Spirituality: Distinction Without Separation" (July/August, 1981), was awarded his M.A. in Theology from Catholic University, where he plans to continue in the graduate program. His mailing address is: 26 Reed Pkwy., Marcellus, NY 1310g. He who remains in Zion and he that is left in Jerusalem Will be called holy (Is 4:3). Consecrated celibacy is in crisis. The resignation of priests, sisters and brothers, many of them highly respected members of the Church, is no secret. Fear ripples through the ranks of those who have remained, as their closest friends leave to get married. A painful self-analysis naturally follows: Do we really have to be celibate? Why am I the only one left? Will it happen to me? Is celibacy only a vestige of an outmoded spirituality? Why am I still left? Some say the crisis is waning. The Diocese of Buffalo recently reported that its loss of priests and sisters from 1976-81 was only 8.1% and 4.6% respectively, compared to 21.2% and ! 7% from 197 !-76.~ While it seems that fewer are leaving, there are still fewer left in the ranks to do the necessary tasks. It is questionable whether relief is in sight. The continuing decline in priestly vocations in the United States indicates that the crisis is still with us. This past year there has been yet another decline (8.8%) in the number of U.S. theology students studying for the priesthood. These are less than half of the number of the peak years of 1966-67.2 The exodus of priests and sisters is a mult: faceted problem which is more than ~John C. Given, "Buffalo Diocese: Fewer Priests, Nuns Leaving Religious Life," Syracuse Herald- Journal, 30 December 1981, p. A-3. 2"Seminary Enrollment Drops," National Catholic Register, 20 December 1981. 660 The Celibacy Experience / 661 just a crisis in celibacy. However. the internaliTation of celibacy must be seen as a key element in any discussion of the problem. In the first half of this article, i will raise the modern problems with celibacy and look at contemporary attempts to solve this crisis. In this first section, 1 will include such key issues as the essential relationship between mysticism and inter-nalized celibacy, the lack of support for young celibates, a critical look at current discussions about celibacy, and then the important issue of intimacy in a celibate life. In the second half, 1 will attempt to resolve the modern problems with celibacy by returning to the context of mysticism and positing an approach to the subject which is both existential and scriptural. Celibacy and Mysticism In The Psychology of Loving, Ignace Lepp says that the chastity of those consecrated to Christ must be "counterbalanced by a genuinely mystical life." If it is not, there is the risk of psychic damage: The libido cannot be channeled in a different direction without injury to sexuality unless it finds itself entirely consumed in the service of higher psychic activity? There must be, then, a necessary connection between celibacy and mysticism. In our use of the word here, "mysticism" does not refer to extraordinary phenome-na such as visions or locutions, nor does it refer to the highest states of union with God. Rather mysticism, here, means a "genuine though mediated experience of encounter and communication with the personal God."4 In this sense of mystical, the experience is direct and conscious, and it involves God as person. The experience is also mediated. The word mysticism derives from the Greek word mueo. which means to initiate (as into a "hidden" mystery). The mystery can be hidden under, or mediated by, any aspect of life. However, a preeminent place must be given to the classic Christian mediations--which include Scripture, prayer, tradition, and the sacraments--most of all the Eucharist. Hidden within our ordinary life experiences is the presence of Christ. The "mystical experience" is one in which this personal encounter becomes more and more conscious. This encounter becomes stronger as the years pass and celibacy is internalized. The mystical life allows the channeling of sexual and some emotional needs into "higher psychic activity" which results in a mature celibacy. On the other hand, if the mystical life is permitted to atrophy, then a mature celibacy, if not the entire celibate life, will suffer with it. William McNamara, in his latest work, Christian Mysticism: A Psychotheology, believes that the mystical life is indeed atrophying, despite some evidence to the contrary: Hgnace Lepp, The Ps.vchology of Loving. trans. Bernard B. Gilligan (New York: A Mentor Omega Book, 1963), p. 213. 4Karl Rahner, ed., Encyclopedia of Theology: 7he Concise Sacramentum Mundi (New York: A Crossroad Book, The Seabury Press, 1975), p. 1009. 662 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 It is obvious that we are presently witnessing a psychical revolution, one. in many respects. that has won the approval of science (biofeedback. body consciousness, metapsychiatry. neuroscience, paraphysics, etc.) and one that could, if properly guided, improve our human condition, and expand our human consciousness immeasurably. There is little evidence. however, that a spiritual-mystical renewal is going on. despite Vatican 11 and the subsequent changes in the Church.5 If McNamara is correct, celibacy will be lost. A truly internalized celibacy, that is, a mature celibacy, requires this mystical life. If celibacy does not become mystical, if it does not grow into a mystical vision, then "God's grace" alone will not uphold the celibate. Grace builds and makes possible an authentic Christian-mystical life; it is not a supernatural substitute for our humanity. Celibacy without mysticism may degenerate inlo mere asceticism, which would be ultimately self-destructive for lack of love. McNamara goes on to say that "man is naturally contemplative. But his mystical powers, left unexercised for so long, are seriously atrophied."6 This is a serious loss for all believers since it has a direct impact on the vitality of their faith and on the development of their full humanity. However, for the celibate in particular, this situation is fatal. With an atrophied mystical life, he is likely to reject celibacy for the sake of his "sanity": he will slowly die to ministry: or he will sublimate his sexual desires in non-productive ways. ls McNamara correct in saying that we have let our mystical powers atrophy and thus we have lost an internalized celibacy? The exodus of consecrated celibates points in that direction. At any rate, in the light of the past twenty years, we can slarely say that in the present state of crisis the depth of our commitment is being tested. In previous years it might have been possible to survive in celibacy by relying on secondary supports. Today it is just not possible. Within this crisis, celibates must develop a mature, internalized love of celibacy based first and fore'most on their own mystical vision and growing encounter with the risen Christ. The state of the Church and Western society makes this absolutely necessary. Little Support for Remaining in the Celibate State Our Western culture offers little support for celibacy. In fact, it is, in some ways, the most discouraging culture possible for a celibate. It ignores religion. Our culture is essentially a-Christian (without Christianity). It would be easier to main-tain a celibate commitment in a culture that is hostile to Christianity--as in the days of the early Christians. At least one could then take heart amidst persecution and 'join" on~self to a tightly knit community of brothers and sisters totally dedi-cated to Christ while fighting an obvious, common antagonist. But today's West-ern culture ignores religion and the celibate. Heroism is more difficult in the face of 5William McNamara, Christian Mysticism: A Psychotheology (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1981), p. 20. 61bid. p. 22. The Celibacy Experience disinterest than of hatred--and celibacy is a heroic life. It receives inspiration from a culture which applauds those who live it. And it flourishes when it is persecuted. But when it is ignored, it is most sorely tried. On a deeper level, however, it is not quite accurate to say that our culture is totally oblivious to Christianity. The words of the Gospel ring true: "He who is not with me is against me, and he who does not gather with me scatters" (Lk 1 !:23). In the final analysis, it is not possible to be neutral to the message of Christ. In whatever form it is presented, explicitly or implicitly, the message of salvation will either be accepted or rejected. Our culture is no exception. Underneath its appar-ent unconcern with Christianity is a subtle barrage of counter-invitations. There are constant overt and subliminal innuendos that cannot fail to tug and tug at the Christian's sexual drives. Our society manifests a sort of cultural passive-aggressive behavior, one that seems tolerant of Christianity but is subtly waging war on its norms. Without Christ, our society loses touch with its deepest need for meaning. According to psychiatrist Viktor Frankl: What is behind the emphasis on sexual achievement and power, what is behind this will to sexual pleasure and happiness is again the frustrated will to meaning. Sexual libido only hypertrophies in an existential vacuum. The result is an inflation of sex . 7 This "inflation of sex" in our society sorely tests the strongest of celibates. The uncommitted are likely to be entrapped. Not only does our culture attack the value of celibacy, new Western attitudes also undermine previous supports for the celibate. There is a new attitude towards authority and tradition: a child-like obedience is not acceptable to the modern mind. As Victor Frankl says, "in contrast to man in former times, he is no longer told by traditions and values what he should do.'~ Likewise, those in the Church accept less and less the fact of canon law and magisterial teaching as being reason enough for remaining celibate. This changing attitude towards authority and tradi-tion is encouraged by the great upheavals within the post-Vatican II Church. The opportunities within such a freedom are great, yet there is also a concomitant increase of danger. Within such a freedom celibates are required to make their commitment their own, with little support from the culture or Church tradition. Concomitant with this rejection of authority and tradition, there is a shift in our concepts, theologies and spirituality. Words such as obedience, sacrifice, ascet-icism and sin are used less frequently. A new model has been substituted which 1 will call the "human growth" model of spirituality. This modern growth-model uses existential concepts such as freedom, human development, holistic growth, and personal responsibility. It understands development in the spiritual life as growth in love and intimacy. It stresses the importance of psychology, self-knowl- 7Viktor E. Frankl, The Unconscious God: Psychotherapy and Theology (New York: Simon and Schuster. 1975), pp. 85-86. ~ Slbid., p. 91. 6 ~4 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 edge, wholeness and all that is authentically human. This model is no doubt a positive, legitimate step in the progress toward a twentieth-century spirituality. It reacts strongly against a previous tendency to reject humanity in favor of some angelic spirituality. Nonetheless, the model has serious shortcomings, e.g., a failure to relate a mature, self-sacrificing obedience to human freedom. And with the transition from earlier models of spirituality to the human growth model, a problem has developed in our theology of celibacy. On the basis of this model it is not so easy to provide an understanding of a celibate life. Love, marriage, children are all an integral part of what it means to be fully human. Without the sharing of the deepest levels of intimacy, as between husband and wife, it would seem that the human growth of.a celibate must be stunted. Our former theology had several ways of dealing with this lack of full intimacy for celibates. For example, repeating an oft-cited idea on celibacy, the Council Fathers of Vatican I1 stated that celibate priests thereby evoke that mysterious marriage which was established by God and will be fully manifested in the future, and by which the Church has Christ as her only spouse.9 There is a theological truth in these and similar statements, but to the modern mind they seem to mean little. How can a "mysterious marriage" deepen my intimacy? To some it sounds like "magical grace." Such theological categories do not mesh with the modern mind which thinks in terms of intersubjectivity, inti-macy, personal self-gift, loving response, and the importance of concrete, interper-sonal relationships for spiritual growth and for ushering in the kingdom of love and peace. This change in mentality requires a change in theology as well. Some New Approaches to Celibacy In Sacrarnentum Mundi Leonhard Weber says: In the formation of priests and in their further development, many of the supports of celibacy which were hitherto relied on will fall away, having proved themselves unreal or erroneous. They must no longer be appealed to. In their place theologically valid arguments must be used, and new aids which correspond to present realities.~0 Many modern spiritual men and women have grappled with the absence of such new arguments. They generously tried to rework an outdated theology of celibacy to correspond to the needs of today--with limited success. For example, much energy is going into showing that one's sexuality is not stunted by celibacy. This is done by making a distinction between the terms genital and sexual. This is a redefinition of categories according to which the word "genital" is applied to what was usually meant by the word "sexual," and then "sexual" in its broadest sense is taken to mean maleness or femaleness. Thus, modern reflection can say that the celibate is still a fully sexual being--but without genital expression. And so a nun could have a close relationship with a priest, and call it a "sexual" relationship-- 9Walter M. Abbott, gen. ed., The Documents of Vatican.H (Chicago: Follett Pub. Co., 1966), p. 566. ~°Sacramentum Mundi.p. 183. The Celibacy Experience / 665 but denying to it "genital" expression. This definition rightly admits that the celibate is not a neuter being but always remains truly male or female. And so at least it should help to keep celibates from attempting to become sexless angels. But however true the first step, saying "a celibate is still male or female," may be, the next statement, "a celibate is fully sexual but not genital," conveys mean-ings and values that are not as evidently proper. The latter statement blurs the important distini:tion there must be between male-female friendship and male-female romantic intimacy. Just as a married man may have female friends, a nun and priest may indeed be friends. But they may not have a romantic intimacy-- even if they do not engage in "genital" activity.~ The distinction between genital and sexual may do more harm than good if it becomes a permission to cross the line of prudence in relations between celibate men and women. Using the excuse that "our relationship is not genital" stems from a legalistic approach to celibacy which in turn endangers true friendship. In addition, any short-term benefits of the principle will be overshadowed by the further fact that it will only justify the kind of obsession with sexuality that is already present in the Church and in society. To focus on the sexuality of the celibate, in fact, obscures the true nature of celibate witness--which should be to point to the primacy of God's kingdom over passing, though good, temporal values. A better approach would distinguish between intimacy and celibacy more strictly. Modern thought in this area is trying to show that the celibate has the same opportunity for intimacy as the married person. This has become especially important in the light of the 1972 NORC study that found that the American priest in general is an "emotionally underdeveloped adult." This has been cause for alarm in the contemporary spiritual milieu which so closely associates spiritual development with human development. What is often forgotten, however, is that the study pointed out that this makes the priest "much like his fellow citizens on the scale of psychological growth" since the average American male also tested out as emotionally underdeveloped.~2 Nevertheless, this new area of reflection, the relationship between intimacy and celibacy, is also having very beneficial results. Celibacy cannot be used as an excuse for refusing to enter into deep human relationships, relationships that are often painful yet necessary for any human growth. Celibacy cannot be seen as representing an excessively other-worldly piety that shuns human affections as unworthy of a spiritual life. The 1971 Synod of Bishops recognized the importance of such human relations in the life of a celibate when it recommended "human balance through well-ordered integration into the fabric of social relationships: fraternal association and companionship with other priests and with the bishop."~3 ~See Paul Conner, "Friendship Between Consecrated Men and Women?" Review for Religious. Vol. 40 (Sept-Oct 1981), pp. 645-659. I:Ernest E. Larkin and Gerard T. Broccolo. eds., Spiritual Renewal of the American Priesthood (Wash. D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference. 1973), p. I. 666 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 Pope Paul VI, in his letter, "Sacerdotalis Caelibatus, "likewise stressed the impor-tance of the celibate relations with the laity. In a moving section of his fatherly letter, Paul VI says: By their devoted and warm friendship [the laity] can be of great assistance to the Church's ministers since it is the laity . . . who are in a position, in many cases, to enlighten and encourage the priest . In this way the whole People of God will honor Christ. promising an assured reward to whoever in any way shows charity toward those whom he has sent (Mt 10:42).~4 In a similar way, the community of the individual religious must supply this same much-needed human warmth and intimacy. The 1980 Plenaria for the Sacred Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes stated that the religious community is itself a theological reality, and object of contemplation., it is of its nature the place where the experfence of God should be able to, in a special way, come to fullness and be communicated to others?5 There is no excessive supernaturalism here. The celibate is a person firmly planted on the earth and relating with others in a shared community life. Thus, this modern movement in spirituality which ties celibacy to human intimacy can make a positive but limited contribution to a new theology of celibacy, as well as to the humanity of celibates. But, like the distinction between genital and sexual, this attempt to show that the celibate can be as fully intimate as his married counterpart is not totally convincing. The approach may confuse as much as it helps--as, indeed, I think it has done. There is a qualitative difference between the human intimacy possible in a marriage and the :human intimacy permissible for a.celibate. Paul VI commented on this type of love: "And love, when it is genuine, is total, exclusive, stable and lasting."~6 A human marriage, in its final perfection, is such a close bond that "they are no longer two but one flesh" (Mr 19:6). For the celibate this is not permitted. A marriage relationship, if fully realized, has an exclusivity and a totality of self-giv'- ing which is just not available to the celibate. Indeed, if a celibate were to have such an exclusive relationship with another person, regardless of whether it was genital or not, he hardly could be considered celibate. The great witness of centuries of consecrated celibates must lead us to conclude that another kind of ultimate depth of intimacy is possible for a celibate. But our theology has not yet completely uncovered the depths of this celibate intimacy. Communion Is More Than Communication As the pro.blem of celibacy and intimacy and of other celibate issues continues ~31971 Synod of Bishops, The Ministerial Priesthood; Justice in the World (Wash. D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference, 1972), p. 24. ~'~Pope Paul VI, Encyclical Letter on Priestly Celibacy--June 24, 1967 (Wash. D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference), p. 39. ~S"The Contemplative Dimension of Religious Life," L'Osservatore Rornano, 26 January 1981, p. 14. ~6Paul VI, Encyclical Letter, p. 1 I. The Celibacy Experience / 667 to be discussed, the debate on the relevance of celibacy in the modern Church continues. This debate often swings between "lyrical panegyrics and one-sidedly negative criticism."~7 Part of the conservative faction believes that the priest must be celibate. No doubt such a vision of Church and faith would be shaken without a celibate priesthood, despite the tradition of the East. Thus, this position clings to such external forms for security--a need which is especially intense during the post-Vatican II upheavals in the Church. Some of the liberals, on the other hand, blame celibacy for destroying the humanity of priests and sisters--a fact which may have validity in a few cases but which glosses over the dynamic witness of a long history of celibacy within the Church. For example, one priest told me that if he ever started to "die" in the ministry he would get out. This is precisely the image some have of the pre-Vatican II Church. In their eyes, it was a church that so stressed an other-worldly piety that it killed the humanity of its people. This section of the liberal faction traces our celibate theology back to Greek philosophi-cal dualism which is said to dismiss worldly values and exalt spiritual ones: others trace celibacy back to Old Testament law which stated that sexual acts made one ritually impure. There are other ways theologians have accounted for our previous tradition of celibacy. The obvious way out is to maintain one's humanity through human intimacy. Seeing the emotional deadness and brokenness of some of their predecessors, many stress the importance of human'growth for spiritual development. Thus, the stress today is on celibate intimacy and communication. And there is a significant attempt within our religious houses to develop a community intimacy, often with good results. Certainly this is a good thing and should be continued. However, is community enough? Does it answer the heart of the problem? We communicate with others to achieve intimacy and wholeness. At times there is an almost compulsive need to lay ourselves bare in a search to maintain or recover our humanity. Admittedly, a certain amount of this is healthy and necessary for any human life, especially a celibate life. This mutual sharing, this intermediate level of intimacy will indeed help our humanity and thus our spirituality. But it is not the final answer, and it is becoming apparent that it is not enough for an authentic celibacy. Of itself, it does not lead to a mature celibacy. Psychiatrist Conrad Baars (who died last October) also believed there is too much communication and not enough communion. In his basic work, Feeling and Healing Your Emotions, he says: Interestingly. wherever members of a community--religious, prayer group, covenant--use the term [affirmation] most freely and glibly, there seems to be the least amount of true affirma-tion. Such places depress one with their bustling activity--planned togetherness, meetings. expected modes of behavior and participation, carefully scheduled recreation, etc, There seems little opportunity for just being--even less for being different or for wanting to be alone. Underneath the new freedom of behavior is often a hidden agenda of new co~7l'ormism . The sign of "new heart living" is communion; yet. there is still too much cornmunication to ~TSacramenturn Mundi. p. 181. 6611 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 permit communion and authentic being.~s This sort of excessive communication places a burden on friendships that such relationships should not, cannot carry. We are sharing more and more to satisfy the deepest Iongings of our heart, but in the final analysis we are in danger of silencing these longings with a mass of words and superficialities. In fact, such an approach is contrary to real humanity. To share everything easily actually reveals a lack of intimacy. The work of psychiatrist Viktor Frankl shows the nature of true intimacy: The quality of intimacy so characteristic of love is no less characteristic of religion. It is intimate in two senses: it is intimum in the sense of innermost, and second, it is, like love. protected by shame. Genuine religiousness, for the sake of its own genuineness, hides from the public . The mistake is often made of confounding such shame with neurotic inhibition. Shame. however, is a perfectly natural attitude.~'~ It is not normal nor is it healthy to share the deepest intimacies of love, or of faith, in a casual or even friendly way. To keep such things private, except from the most intimate of soul friends, or from one's spiritual director, is a normal and healthy action. It is a sign of true intimacy. Such an attitude maintains the sanctity of the human person. To violate this sanctity is a grievous affair. This violation would ultimately impair the growth of intimacy by destroying some of the conditions necessary for its growth, such as respect for the human person and the need for individual solitude. During a 1978 lecture to the Unione Internazionale dei Superiori Generali, Henri Nouwen commented on this close link between solitude and intimacy: Solitude leads us to a new intimacy with each other and makes us see our common task precisely because in solitude we discover our true nature, our true self, our true identity. That knowledge of who we really are allows us to live and work in community3o It is precisely this depth of intimacy which is the sign of a mature celibate and it is this depth which should enliven and nourish all the other relations a celibate has, just as the intimacy of marriage should ground and nourish the other relations a spouse has. Is Optional Celibacy the Answer? Optional celibacy seems to be emerging as the moderate position in the Church. For pastoral reasons, and in order to recognize cultural diversity, its concession may be required. This change would be theologically easy, given our present understanding of celibacy as distinct from, and not essential to, Orders. But this distinction, though affirmed in modern times, does not take fully into ISConrad Baars. Feeling and Healing Your Emotions (Plainfield, N.J.: Logos International, 1979), p. 221. ~gFrankl, Unconscious God, pp. 47, 46. 2°Henri J. M. Nouwen, "Solitude and Community," lecture presented to the Unione Internazionale dei Superiori Generali, 4 April 1978. p. 20. The Cefibacy Experience account the reality of the place of celibacy in the Latin Church. With the rise of historical and existential theologies, we are coming to a fuller understanding of the place of the whole human person in our theologizing. Thus, while celibacy is only a canonical duty, it figures as an important element in our "collective memory," or our "story," or again, our western Catholic "identity." Concepts that are appearing in the new theology should make us more hesitant to favor optional celibacy too quickly. Celibacy is more than just a discipline. Rather, it has been woven into our history and thus into our collective memories. In the midst of a Church already suffering a severe identity crisis, the impact of optional celibacy on our "story" should be carefully considered. In addition, a case could be made that in no time of history is celibacy more necessary than today. At first glance the statement seems absurd, but when placed into the total context of the times, when one observes the signs of the times, it gains in its appearance of truth. As stated earlier, our people are under a sexual siege by advertisers, movies, TV and other elements of society. In an age when people are trying harder and harder to become liberated from Christian sexual mores, we are becoming more and more enslaved to sex. Such is precisely the nature of sin and evil. It promises the opposite of what it gives. Our society has promised sexual liberation and has produced just the opposite. The value of celibacy as a sign that shows the relative value (while not negating its intrinsic goodness) of sex is never more needed. Also, given the unity of all in the Mystical Body of Christ, it has likewise been never more important for a few to persevere in the struggle against sexual license in a heroic way for its spiritual aid to all people who are struggling with sexual difficulties within their own vocations. Paul speaks of this union of all in Christ when he says to the Corinthians: "If one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members share its joy" (I Co 12:26). Nonetheless, the pressure is on the Vatican for optional celibacy. While such a compromise may be necessary, I doubt that it will truly alleviate the problem. (Perhaps rather than making celibacy optional, it would be more to the point for the Vatican to announce that marriage is mandatory for all priests and religious! Then when a select few would flee to the mountains and the deserts, there to listen more intently to the "still, small voice," and thus refuse to marry, these are the ones who should be ordained.) Compromise, while often necessary, can fall into tepid-ity, failing to see that, for the celibate, the Christian message is nothing if not radical. "I am Come to cast fire on the earth and what will 1 but that it be kindled" (Lk 12:49), or again, "But because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will spew you out of my mouth" (Rv 3:16). Without such a radical, total commitment, there is no deep intimacy--for the celibate as well as for the married person. Deepest Intimacy Is in Mystery This intimacy is completed only in the deepest levels of the person. This depth is beyond the spoken word; it is beyond verbal communication. It can only be 670 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 called mystery--a mystery which marvelously opens itself up in the communion of love. Thus the depths of intimacy are experienced as mystery, and as love, for both the celibate as well as the married person. This is the deepest level of personal growth and the truest level of self-knowledge. Some commentators on this deepest level of the person have cited the efforts of Nietzsche. They say that Nietzsche saw this great depth which he called "nothing-ness" and yet he was a courageous man to continue to face his "nothingness" and carry on bravely. This may be courage but it also may be a disguised fear--a fear to really experience this "nothingness" or depth of mystery. Nietzsche stood at the brink of the ocean of mystery and summoned the courage to remain there and look. The Christian is called to go one step further--to dive in! Viktor Frankl put forth a similar idea using the image of a summit surrounded by fog: On his way to find the ultimate meaning of life, the irreligious man, as it were, has not yet reached the highest peak, but rather has stopped at the next to highest . And what is the reason the irreligious man does not go further? It is because he does not want to lose the "firm ground under his feet." The true summit is barred from his vision: it is hidden in the fog. and he does not risk venturing into it, into this uncertainty. Only the religious man hazards it.2~ This depth, this "diving into the ocean" or "climbing through the fog to the highest peak" is open to a married couple united in faith. Such an unspoken depth to their relationship allows the mystery of one to be opened and joined to the mystery of the other, the ocean of one to the ocean of the other. This mystery therefore cannot be opened by the effort of one; it requires two to open it. Love requires union, and this deepest mystery is a union of love. At first glance, this would seem to exclude the celibate because the necessary love is, recalling the words of Paul VI, "total, exclusive, stable and lasting." This love seems denied the celibate who has no partner! Within such a quandary, our theology of celibacy is too often opaque, making little sense to the modern person. We could foist the problem onto "grace," and thus expect a solution from some magical power to hold our humanity in abeyance until the end-times. But this would be a denial of the real nature of the Christian message and a misunderstand-ing of the true nature of grace. Christianity is not essentially a negative religion. If it denies, it does so only to affirm in a more profound way. If God asks for any sacrifice, it is only to return the gift a hundred-fold. And, it seems to me, this is the problem with which modern thought on celibacy must deal--a problem that is especially difficult to solve if we use the growth model of spirituality. Celibacy and Theological Distancing To this point, we have merely opened up several problems in our theologies of celibacy. There seems to be a real difficulty in relating the depths of intimacy and celibacy, despite some modern attempts to do so. The older approaches with their 2~Frankl, Unconscious God. pp. 55-56. The Cefibacy Experience / 671 reliance on grace threaten to skip over our true humanity. What is perhaps lacking in both approaches, what may be largely responsible for the crisis in celibacy today, is a proper starting point. An accumulation of theologizing and reflection has developed an elaborate theological understanding of celibacy, but may have lost contact with its simple yet radical starting point. Paul Ricoeur's warning of cultural distancing may apply to our case: Cultural distance is not only the altering of the vehicle, but also the forgetting of the radical question conveyed by the language of another time. It is necessary to undertake, therefore, a struggle against the.forgetting of the question, that is. a struggle against our own alienation in relation to what operates in the question?2 We may, indeed, have forgotten the "radical question" which underlies the very existence of celibacy. This question must come as an existential question which demands a radical human response. The existential question involves an expe-rience that gives rise to the unusual phenomenon of celibacy. This experience I call the celibacy experience. Theological reflection can help make this experience understandable. It can explain its fruits and it can even help prepare someone for it. But theological reflection cannot impart the experience itself. Celibacy must spring from an expe-rience which begets a radical and total response. In the experience, a radical question is asked, and a radical answer must be given--though the response will have to grow in actualization with time. What we need is an existential model of celibacy, one that starts with human experience. This model must be able to address the concepts of intimacy and humanity in a convincing way. These concepts, though, can only be understood when viewed in the light of the beginning section of this article, when we wrote of mysticism, the internalization of celibacy, and higher psychic functions. An,"Existential Scriptural Approach To find such an existential approach, it is necessary to cut through centuries of cultural and theological distancing and return to Scripture. But our approach should not be to use Scripture. in the usual way of the conventional theologies of celibacy. In these approaches, citations are made of such Pauline passages as: The virgin--indeed any unmarried woman--is concerned with things of the Lord. in pursuit of holiness in body and spirit. The married woman, on the other hand, has the cares of this world to absorb her. , (I Co 7:34). Or again, To those not married and to widows, I have this to say: h would be well if they remain as they are. even as I do myself: but if they cannot exercise self-control, they should marry (I Co 7:8-9). These and other such passages, though, are not the celibacy experience itself, a-'Paul Ricoeur, "The Language of Faith," in Charles Reagan and David Steward, eds. The Philosophy of Paul Ricoeur (Boston: Beacon Press, 1978), p. 224. 672 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 but only reflections on the experience. It is the mystical encounter with God in Christ that results in these inspired theological reflections. Paul's embrace of the life of consecrated celibacy stemmed primarily from his encounter with Christ. He refers to his own celibacy experience: Am I not free? Am I not an apostle? Have I not seen Jesus our Lord? And are you not my work in the Lord? (1 Co 9:1). To the community at Corinth, Paul claims a direct vision of Jesus which grounds his apostolate; it drives him almost compulsively: Yet preaching the gospel is not the subject of a boast; I am under compulsion and have no choice. 1 am ruined if I do not preach it! (I Co 9:16; see 2 Co 5:14). This experience of Paul was not really one experience, but many: "I must go on boasting, however useless it may be, and speak of visions and revelations" (2 Co 12:!). It is only in the light of such experiences that Paul's celibacy makes any sense. He saw everything else as being of secondary importance compared to his being "grasped by Christ" (Ph 3:i2). Paul says, even more forcefully, "1 have come to rate all as loss in the light of the surpassing knowledge of my Lord Jesus Christ" (Ph 3:8). And it is precisely in this light that Paul recommends celibacy as being a way to devote oneself fully to the things of the Lord--just as it was for him. The authority and very existence of his apostolate depended on these experiences, and they became such a driving force in his life that celibacy was a result of it. Traditional celibacy-literature also quotes a passage from the Gospel of Matthew: Some men are incapable of sexual activity from birth: some have been deliberately made so; and some there are who have freely renounced sex for the sake of God's reign. Let him accept this teaching who can (19:12). This teaching, which supplies the theory to Paul's practice, focuses on celibacy "for the sake of God's reign." Notice again that there is no attempt to show that one should be celibate because Christ was, or that celibacy reflects the marriage of Christ with the Church, or even that celibacy is good because one is more effective for ministry. These are all later theological reflections, no matter how true they may be. They do not ground anyone's celibacy. The),' are not the celibacy expe-rience. Rather, as the Matthean Gospel points out, marriage is renounced "for the sake of God's reign." The passage implies that there is a direct experience of the reign of God. Otherwise, it would be impossible to dedicate oneself to it. In fact, the reign of God became a direct reality in the lives of many of those early Christians, enough of a reality to cause them to renounce a fundamental of human life--marriage. This, then was a powerful experience. This in-breaking of the reign of God is an eschatological experience. It is an in-breaking of the eschaton, or last times, into people's lives. Paul's experience was also truly an eschatological one since in his vision he saw the risen Christ who is himself the Reign of God. This is precisely what a mystical experience is, although it can take many different forms. It is an in-breaking of the eschaton, the reign of The Celibacy Experience / 673 God, the risen Christ into people's lives. There is no mysticism without eschat-ology-- an eschatology that proclaims that the kingdom is already present among us, though in a hidden way. Eschatological Fervor And such an eschatological, mystical experience totally changes one's life. It creates such a powerful force and conversion that it can make one cry out, as it did with Paul, "I am ruined if 1 do not preach [the Gospel]." With this conversion comes a new vision--a mystical vision. This experience gives rise to an eschatolog-ical fervor which makes it easy to believe that the end is at hand. Such was often the case with the prophets who, upon experiencing the greatness of God, saw the depths to which God's creation had fallen, and they cried out for repentance, claiming that God's just punishment was near. In the book of Isaiah, for example, the prophet has a vision of the temple of the Lord. He is overwhelmed with the holiness and power of God while the seraphim cry out, "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts. ! All the earth is filled with his glory!" (6:3). Isaiah immediately felt his own sinfulness in the face of such holiness: "Woe is me, I am doomed! For 1 am a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips"(6:5), lsaiah's new vision of the holiness of God and the sinfulness of the people leads to his message of the imminent destruction of Israel by God: "lf there be still a tenth part in it, then this in turn shall be laid waste" (6:13). It was in this same eschatological fervor that Paul believed the kingdom of God to be an imminent reality: I tell you. brothers, the time is short. From now on those with wives should live as though they had none: those who weep should live as though they were not rejoicing: buyers should conduct themselves as though they owned nothing, and those who make use of the world as though they were not using it. for the world as we know it is passing away (I Co 7:29-3 I). This eschatological fervor was the result of Paul's experience of the risen Christ. This was a mystical experience which resulted in a new vision of life, a mystical vision. However, it is obvious to us, and even Paul came to understand, that the time is not short. Two thousand years have passed and Christ has still not come in his glory. But to take this approach, that is, to discount the fervor of the early Christians because their belief in the imminence of the second coming proved to be wrong, is to miss the significance of their times, and the truth of their experience. The early Christians experienced the reign of God breaking into their lives. They were baptized in the Spirit and such a baptism was at times a mystical experience which produced this eschatological fervor. As it is recorded in the Acts of the Apostles: The Holy Spirit came upon [the Gentiles]. just as it had upon us at the beginning. Then I remembered what the Lord had said: "John baptized with water but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit" II 1:15-16). They may have misinterpreted this mystical vision, this new perception of reality: they may have believed that Christ was coming soon. But this is often the case with intense mystical experiences. St. John of the Cross spoke of these 674 / Review for Religious. Sept.-Oct., 1982 dangers with extraordinary mystical experiences; they are often interpreted on too concrete a level, when they are intended for a higher, more spiritual plane. Perhaps this was the case with the early Christians. They experienced the closeness of Christ and his kingdom. The words of Jesus were passed along to them which pointed to his coming, and they may have interpreted such signs literally. Regardless of the reason for their mistaken view of the second coming, we should not dismiss their eschatological fervor because of it. This fervor is the proper response, just as it was for Amos: The lion roars who will not be afraid: the Lord God speaks who will not prophesy? (Am 3:8). It was this fervor that contained within it the phenomenon of celibacy. Without this experience, celibacy makes little sense. Later theological reflection can try to explain the celibate state, as Paul tried to do, but it cannot recreate the experience itself. But what happens when the fervor wears off'? Paul began to realize that he, too, might die before Christ comes again. The initial celibacy experience that gave rise to the fervor for the reign of God and caused the early Christians to renounce marriage can fade as the years wear on. What does the modern mistress of novices do with her charges once the initial fervor of vocation begins to wane, as it always does? It is then that moderns begin to wonder about their humanity. Will celibacy kill it? The earlier mystical vision fades, and the reality of celibacy as a loneliness without spouse, sex and family presses on the celibate. The stress on intimacy today makes it even more difficult, and there are plenty of TV shows and adver-tisements to remind the celibate of what he is missing. Celibate Intimacy With Christ This initial fervor must be followed by a desert experience, an absence of fervor, as mystical theology points out. But it is precisely within this period of dryness that the mystical vision is secretly growing. It is then that youthful fervor must yield to a new experience that reaches deeper into the person. This new experience is reflected best in the Gospel of John, "the disciple whom Jesus loved": A third time Jesus asked him, "Simon. son of John, do you love me?" Peter was hurt because he had asked a third time, "Do you love me?" So he said to him: "Lord, you know everything. You know well that I love you." Jesus said to him, "Feed my sheep" (21:17). In these spiritual reflections of John's Gospel do we see hinted at a deeper intimacy with Christ. The servant, and friend becomes lover and beloved. Thus we see introduced a new element: the love of Christ. The compulsion to preach is giving way to a deeper relationship with Christ, a relationship of love. The ground of Peter's ministry is this love of Christ. The early eschatological fervor has to give way to this intimate love of Christ, The Celibacy Experience / 675 and this is only possible because Jesus first offers his love. When he asks Peter if he loves him, iris implied that Jesus is first offering his love, and is asking if Peter will respond. Such is the existential approach of Scripture: God offers through Christ, and we must respond. Peter did respond, to the fullest extent. He had exclaimed to Jesus: "We have put aside everything to follow ~,ou!" To this Jesus replied: I give you my word, there is no one who has given up home, brothers or sisters, mother or father, children or property for me and for the gospel who will not receive in this present age a .,hundred times as many homes, brothers and sisters, mothers, children and property--and persecution besides--and in the age to come, everlasting life (Mk 10:28-30). This earlier response of youthful fervor should grow into a mature love. "Although you have never seen him, you love him" (1 P 1:8). Such an unseen love, then, is directly connected with faith. There can be no love of an unseen object unless faith prepares the way. It is the youthful fervor and the later desert expe-riences which produce a faith strong enough to support such a love. It is a faith offer and response of love. This does not make the offer and response, nor the love, any less real. The reign of God has come among us. Christ is still offering the love of God in a real though hidden way. The radical question which underlies the mature celibate experience is still being asked: "Do you love me?" This is real grace--not magical grace. God, in Christ, offering himself to the world--Person to person. Grace is the theological concept which denotes this real exchange within human history. If, as Paul VI said, there must be "a wise sublimation of the psychological life on a higher plane," it is because our sublimation and needs will be met within human history; God's kingdom has come!23 Though we cannot see the object of our exchange, this exchange is nonetheless real. Such is the nature of a faith-love. It is only within such a faith-love context that we can understand the true nature of celibate intimacy. In this offer and response with Christ, the celibate should eventually come to experience, either explicitly or implicitly, the deepest level of love and intimacy, recalling, the words of Paul VI: "Love, when it is genuine, is total, exclusive, stable and lasting." The mature celibate, the one who has internalized his call, has come to respond in this total and exclusive way to Christ. Such is the total self-gift in a marriage; such, too, is the total self-gift in the intimacy of the celibate. It is no accident, then, that later mystical theology came to describe such a relationship as a "spiritual marriage." It is a relationship~ which includes the deepest union. Yet this total and exclusive intimacy between the celibate and Christ does not exclude other relationships. In fact, it depends on other human relationships to make it possible. At the same time, celibate intimacy provides the possibility for the full fruition of these other relationships. However, one cannot completely identify one's intimacy with Christ, with the intimacy one has with others. And without a real intimacy with Christ, these other relationships tend to become 2~Paul VI, Encyclical Letter, p. 22. 676 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 warped, possessive and destructive. Such an intimacy grows out of the celibate experience. It is not something that is once and for all, but a chain of real encounters that renew and strengthen the individual's original response to the radical question, "Do you love me?" The original, novitiate, eschatological fervor is transformed and strengthened in the desert. Fervor is exchanged for love, and the compulsion to preach is exchanged for peace. The celibate experience is, then, a growing life-experience in and with Christ. It is not necessarily a "Mystical" (big "M") experience, some kind of extraordinary revelation--such as those of Paul who saw the face of Christ. Rather, the celibate experience is a "mystical" (small "m") experience. It is a direct encounter with Christ in which the radical question of love is asked, but it is an encounter that is hidden within the ordinary. McNamara sees that this immediacy of mysticism is nonetheless mediated: It is God whom mystical knowledge perceives immediately and experientially in the historic revelation of Christ~ the sacramental life, and the ecclesiastical organism. It is not contradic-tory to unite indissolubly the immediacy of mystical knowledge to all the Christian mediations.24 Thus the celibate in today's world must be a mystic but not necessarily a Mystic. This mystical relationship, of course, remains beyond words; it is beyond clear, verbal definitions. In it the mystery of God touches the mystery of the human person, and in this touch, the depths of the human person are opened, and he attains to a vision of reality that is mystical. Do You Love Me? It is this experience and the resulting vision which ground the celibate's aposto-late. The celibacy experience, which eventually grows into a total response to the radical question, "Do you love me?" provides the charter and gives life to his or her ministry. Without this growing intimacy with Christ, the celibate's ministry is without an anchor and will drift with every theological and psychological breeze that comes along. Again, McNamara has an excellent insight: People are fed and sustained by a mystical theology; they are amused and confused by any other. Yet they are being led thoughtlessly from one vogue to another. It's so tempting to be faddish, accommodating; to leave our solitary, silent stance before the source of wisdom and become washed out in the 'sauce~ of endless meetings, parties~ dialogues, lectures, conventions.2~ Without a mystical vision the celibate is unlikely to remain celibate for long. Any ministry without a mystical vision is liable only to "amuse and confuse" the people. The people thirst for Christ. It is the authentic Christ they need, yet the temptation is always to grasp false messiahs, even though with the best of inten- 2'~McNamara, Christian Mysticism, p. 16. ~lbid., p. 24. The Celibacy Experience / 677 tions. Mother Teresa wrote a note that said: "Pray for me that 1 do not loosen my grip on the hand of Jesus, even under the guise of ministering to the poor.''~6 Even such a great ministry as serving the poor can become a false messiah without an intimate relationship with Christ. The time has come for Catholic celibates to renew their primary identity as Christians. It is only in a life centered on Christ that true celibate intimacy is realized. It is only thus that liberals, conservatives and moderates can become what the Gospel calls for--radical lovers. And without a radical response to the love of Christ there is no mysticism, and thus no internalized celibacy. The way is not easy. Though the kingdom has already come into the world, it remains hidden. The eschaton is not fully realized in human history. A celibate's relationship with Christ will reflect this incompleteness during this life. Just as "all creation groans and is in agony even until now" (Rm 8:22), the celibate's life must also have many moments of groaning, and a longing for the final fulfillment of God's kingdom. The call of Christ is again sweeping the world: "Do you love me?" Fewer are left: fewer are responding. But there are enough. There is enough leaven for the entire lump of dough to rise. And for the remnant that is left: No more shall men call you ~For~ken," or your land "Desolate," But you shall be called "My Delight." and your land "Espoused.". As a young man marries a virgin, your Builder shall marry you: and as a bridegroom rejoices in his bride so shall your God rejoice in you (Is 62:4-5). -'~'Phyllis Theroux. "'Amazing Grace: Mother Teresa Comes to Calcutta." Washhzgton Post Magazine, 18 October 1981. p. 30. Preparing for the 1983 Synod Stephen Tutas, S.M. In explaining his point in writing this article, Fr. Tutas states: "As a member of the 1980 Synod, I am well aware that the success of the General Assembly depends to a great extent on how well participants reflect the mind of the Church throughout the world." This article simply draws attention to the ~'neamenta published by the General Secretariate of the Synod. Father Tutas, Superior General of the Society of Mary (Marianists) 1971-1981, is presently Director of the Marianist Formation Center; P.O. Box AC; Cupertino, CA 95015. Immediately after the 1980 Synod of Bishops, preparation began for the 1983 Synod. After a lengthy process of consultation, Pope John Paul II designated "Reconciliation and Penance in the Mission of the Church" as the theme for the Sixth General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops which will be held in 1983. The General Secretariate of the Synod then prepared an initial presentation of the theme and sent this to the National Conferences of Bishops for their personal study. This first document is a fifty-four page study in the English edition pub-lished by the Vatican Polyglot Press this past January. The purpose of the docu-ment is "to stimulate reflection in the local churches, to receive information, advice and useful suggestions for the future synodal discussion; to provoke, as soon as possible, a movement of spirits and of prayer which disposes souls to the metanoia which is at the root of the synodal theme." For all these reasons it is very important for religious to take an active interest in the coming synod. It is interesting to note that the General Secretariate is encouraging wide consultation by stating that the publication of this first document "is without limits and not reserved." After analyzing the feedback from this first document, the General Secretariate will later issue a more extensive working paper. As religious we cannot afford to be passive as the preparation for the 1983 Synod moves forward. While the members of the synod have the responsibility of reflecting the mind of the Church throughout the world as they participate in the synod, the rest of us have the responsibility to study the theme of the synod as 678 Preparing for the 1983 Synod thoroughly as we can so that we can be well prepared to enter into the movement promoted by its celebration. Accordingly, in the hope of stimulating further reflection in preparation for the 1983 Synod, I would like to offer some thoughts about the theme that are prompt-ed by my personal study of the initial document. The theme of Reconciliation and Penance in the Mission of the Church was selected from among many topics suggested for the Sixth General Assembly. Towards the close of the 1980 Synod there was a brief.discussion about possible themes for the 1983 sessions. Among the issues mentioned at that time was the Sacrament of Penance. After further consultation, this particular theme was even-tually developed into the much more comprehensive topic that is outlined in this document issued by the General Secretariate. As presented, the theme touches many other topics that had also been proposed as possible themes, such as youth, the Christian laity, the identity of the Church following the changes effected by Vatican I1, the evaluation of liturgicalrenewal, popular piety, spirituality, Catholic education, the training of priests, the role of bishops in the Church, ecclesiology, the future. The study of Reconciliation and Penance in the Mission of the Church can also be viewed in relation to previous synods--especially justice in the world, evangelization in the modern world and catechetics, and of course, it has many implications for the mission of the Christian family in the modern world. The theme echoes many of the concerns expressed in pontifical documents of recent years. Among these, it is significant to recall Pope Paul VI's statement for the World Day of Peace, 1975: "Reconciliation, the Way to PeAce." The synod study is also related to the encyclical letter of Pope John Paul II, "On the Mercy of God" that was published shortly after the last synod. What I find especially attractive about the coming synod is that it is being ¯ presented as a development of the great themes of the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World. Throughout the synoddocument there are remind-ers that this topic is not to be considered solely in terms of baptized Catholics, but that it is a topic of great importance "for all who seek meaning to existence." This theme is of great importance for the quality of the Christian life; it is also meaning-ful for the world in general. I found the intent of the initial document to speak a message of hope to the modern world very heartening. There is no denial of the injustice in the world today and in the hearts of so many people. The section describing this is particu-larly well expressed. The document speaks of the reality of today's world in contrast to our understanding of God's plan for us and our own response to this plan in our efforts to build a better world. Given the wars, violence, terrorism of our time, the conclusion is that the dominant characteristic of our era seems to have become that of tensions and divisions. It would be quite easy to give in to the feelings of helplessness in the face of the complexity of the problems facing us today. But it is quite clear from the document that the great expectation is that the synod itself will speak a message of hope to the Church and to the world. 61~1~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 Much of the theme deals with the basic human need for personal reconciliation with God, with each other, and with ourselves. But what impressed me above all was the emphasis given to the promotion of justice and peace in the world through the call to reconciliation and penance. The document suggests that the synod face the complex reality of tensions and divisions in the world today with confiderlce that there is an answer. We Christians cannot lose hope. In recognizing that the Church is the sacrament of reconciliation, the Church has a new understanding of its pastoral mission in the modern world. 1 am also intrigued by the proposed study of the meaning of change in our lives. The word penance used in the synod document is meant to include the meaning of repentance, understood as conversion. The synod topic offers us an opportunity to focus on the change of mind and heart that Vatican II called for, and on the continual change to which we are called as Christians. The appeal to conversion understood as a change of direction, return, practical change in the way of living, interior change of mentality, metanoia, is clearly and forcefully pre-sented. The Church is seen as "holy and formed of sinners," holy, but always in need of being purified, incessantly pursuing the path of penance and renewal. The message of hope that Christians are called to proclaim in today's world is God's love for his people. It is God who forgives and liberates in order to reconcile all men and women to himself, with each other, with all creation. The dream of a new creation is once again proclaimed, a new creation where there is interior unity and true liberty, where there is a new relationship with other men and women, a new human community founded on justice, a new sense of God living and working in history. The General Secretariate of the Synod, in publishing this first document in preparation for the 1983 Synod, insists that the statements made are "provisional in character and limited and thus it would be useless to make a critique of them or to attempt to perfect the text." But it is an invaluable starting point for all of us as we prepare for the 1983 Synod. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions--II Patricia Spillane, M.S. C Our last issue carried the first part of this article. In the current issue, Sister Patricia concludes her study of the process of internalization. Sh'e continues to reside at the convent of the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart: 428 St. James Place: Chicago; IL 60614. ~n Part I of this article, we considered how to live more authentically the life we proclaim: i.e., how can our constitutions be planted deep within us, written on our hearts (see Jr 3 !:33)? We reflected on our attitudes toward these constitutions, and on ourselves as the source of attitudinal decisions--spiritually, philosophically, psychologically. If nothing else, by now we should have arrived at an appreciation for the complexity of the problem: that arriving at a true internalization of what is written calls indeed for foundations of rock, and that much labor and struggle are required to build over that! Everyone who comes to me and listens to my words and acts on them., is like the man who, when he built his house, dug, and dug deep, and laid the foundations on rock: when the river was in flood, it bore down on that house but could not shake it, it was so well built (Lk 6:47-49). In the following pages, I will try to indicate some directions which could aid in this foundation-setting for interiorization within religious communities. Of their nature, such foundations are conceptual and theoretical, the underpinnings from which must proceed programs of action once the principles have been clarified. Such foundations need to reflect adequately our reality, a reality that is at one and the same time spiritual, anthropological and psychological. Efforts at internaliza-tion will be hampered without such an integration. Premises already exist in each of these areas since Christianity has been propos-ing such principles for centuries. Respective constitutions incorporate these and give them a unique flavor. 681 61~2 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 But we each have our own concepts of, and attitudes toward theology, philo-sophy and psychology, both conscious and unconscious. We need to examine our own assumptions in these areas to see how they contrast with what we are called to. Furthermore, with clear premises and principles we can better grasp still further implications: where do we go from here? We can move more securely from the theoretical to the concrete, both individually and collectively, without haphazard experimentation and without facile reaching for faddist solutions. A. Theological Foundations The very word foundation conjures up something solid, firm, lasting, not the ephemeral, fantastic, passing. It is obvious that any theological foundation for the internalization of Christian living must have indeed "Christ Jesus himself for its main cornerstone" (Ep 2:20), the Christ of revelation and of the gospels, as pro-claimed by the Church. What is needed is a theology that integrates both the transcendent and the incarnational, both vertical and horizontal dimensions, both interior life and exterior action. Consequently, we are talking about a Christologi-cal, ecclesial foundation of objective, revealed values that are both normative and attractive, values that can propose objective and inspiring criteria with which we can collectively and individually evaluate and challenge ourselves. Our vision of God must begin with the God of revelation and Scripture, as authentically reflected to us down through the ages by the Church and sacred tradition. Equally essential to this theological vision is its concept of our humanity called to a unique relationship with our Creator as the peak of creation, elevated to unimaginable new possibilities in Christ, yet withal vulnerable and capable of betraying our Creator and Savior. Called to respond, we are still" free to say "no." Therefore, the triplet of grace, sin and concupiscence can never be overlooked (more will be said along this line in the anthropological section below). Such a theology will see the spiritual life as the arena of interaction between nature and grace, the call to personal and enduring transcendence in the name of Christ that begins with baptism and reaches its fulfillment in the Beatific Vision. Such free cooperation with grace is at one and the same time the highest activity to which we are called, that which makes us most truly human and that which ultimately brings us true self-fulfillment as a result of our self-transcendence. However, we do not incarnate such principles in a vacuum. We live in a world of increasing theological pluralism, of the rapid dissemination and impassioned defense of new ideologies--in short, in a world of theological ferment where discernment, critical thinking, and a clear vision of the fundamentals are more essential than ever. As Christians and religious, we must be able to sift and see in what way our, theological thinking may have been infiltrated by certain current trends which can bias and distort the foundation for our attitudinal decision. Discerning Theological ,Trends A group of Christian theologians (including Avery Dulles, S.J.) from nine denominations engaged themselves in precisely this kind of sifting a few years ago From Tablet to Heart in Hartford, Connecticut, resulting in the clarification and designation of thirteen pervasive ideas which they considered to be "false and debilitating."t 1 have grouped some of these into three areas so that it will be apparent how an ade-quately integrated theological foundation implies a counter-cultural stance that is in opposition to each of them. I. Religious language refers to human experience and nothing else, God being humanity's noblest creation . Jesus can only be understoo~l in terms of contemporary models of humanity . An emphasis on God's transcendence is at least a hindrance to, and perhaps incompatible with, Christian social concern and action. Here is clearly seen the polarization of a theology of the supernatural with the theology of secular humanism. According to the latter, "man and world have in themselves an ultimate value'~--a prime example of Frankl's objec!ification of persons and subjectification of values mentioned in Part 1, with the result that we must become our own source of meaning, and evaluate ourselves by subjective criteria. This subjectivism, in turn, gives rise to experientialism: lacking objective guidelines, we can only use our emotions to ratify our experience. God's existence is inferred from subjective religious experience. That which should be effect becomes, instead, the cause of belief and the fountainhead of religion. Von Bal-thazar's comments are appropriate here: It is not that man has to have an experience of God: it is more that God

Issue 36.4 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edited by faculty members of St Lou~s Umverslty, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Btnldmg, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright (~) 1977 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louisa Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July 1977 Volume 36 Number 4 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to R~:v~w yon RELiGiOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to R~vmw roe RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. In Process: John the Baptist Mary Catherine Barron, C.S.J, Sister Mary Catherine, whose last article appeared in the March, 1977 issue, resides at 91 Overlook Ave.; Latham, NY 12110. ¯ Are you the one who is to come, or have we.to wait for someone else? (L.k 7,: 19). It seems that John the Baptist spent his-wtiole life.waiting. As such, he was an extremely patient man. Somehow, through the centuries, ~ though, we came to have his story wr6ng, and tend to name him solely as messenger and prophet. In doing so, we miss the mighty impact of his questions and the overwhelming witness value of the answers he accepted. He must have learned something vital---early on--in the, womb, as he expectantly waited for the moment of his birth. Again, we tend to ascribe that birth to a certain day and hour.when,."the time of fulfillment came for Elizabeth to have her child." Actually, it happened earlier, some three months past, when John first met Jesus and greeted him with joy: The symbolism of that encounter must have haunted the heart of John even as its vestiges traced a pattern through the years. In the darkness of confinement John felt divine intrusion and in a mystical leap of faith, he assented to vocation. And then divinity withdrew and John, was left to wait. Had he known that waiting period was to be not months, but years, he may not have had the courage. Had he known it would end in another dark confinement and another mystical leap to another divine intrusion, he may not have had the strength. But Yahweh was merciful and John was content to grow. And he did so slowly through the years, in ~the shadow of the question: "What will this child turn out to be?" Neighbors asked it first, but its overwhelming import must have~g,radually fashioned the contours of his life, drawing him like a lodestone into the current of salvific process. Surely, in. the desert, it must have echoed, in the wind and the force of 497 4911 / Review [or Religious, Volume 3~6, 1977/4 its persistence must have, at times, lured John to fear. "Suppose it is all myth? Suppose I am only a deranged desert'man, wa~iting for a prophecy never to .be sent, waiting for a mission never to be given? Suppo'se I am to be like the shifting desert sand--blown back and forth relentlessly by an overwhelming passion? Suppose I am deluded and my life is just a waste?" What impels a man to wait in the face of such a doubt? What causes him to stand expectant and receptive? What constitutes the tenacious re-silience of his heart? Perhaps it was only the glimmer of remembrance, the flash of light and grace that had exploded in his soul the day his cousin first had come. Who knoffs the value we posit in the memories of love? Or the power they have to summon us? So John was summoned, probably in much the same elusive fashion that he had been beckoned all along: a change of mood, a passing desert flower, the way a bird called, the different shape, of sky--and suddenly he knew the~time had come~ and he was ready. "And so it was that John the Baptist appeareOd., proclaiming a baptism ' of repentance" ~Mk 1:4). This is where we get things all confused. This is where we miss the prophetic message. We are so used to reading all'that John announced that~we never get to,discerning.all that John was asking. You~see, he lived in mtich the same condition .that we do'--waiting for 'a Someone whia is,to come. And he did not know any more than we, when that Someone would emerge nor how he could be known~ And so, the discipline of his river days was as intense and all embracing as the discipline of his wilderness. Nothing much had changed except that life was less his own. What had shifted was responsibility. Now he was em-powered to,convert and to baptize and this authority made him responsible for the followers he engendered. So that is why we find him sometimes a bit harsh--loud and somewhat strident, demanding and even fearsome. He was impelled to trumpeting because he was so needy. And the quality of his message derived from solitary waiting. ~ The gospel.tells us that "a feeling of expectancy had grown among the people" (Lk 3:15). How much more so had it grown within the heart of John? ~ ~ ~ The anguish of that wait must have been unbearable. "Is this the day? Is that the Man? Am I where I should be? What if 'he never comes? And 'why do all these people think 1 may be he? Am I?" ' We ~will never know the . terrible questions John kept buried in his heart but ~his flailing words indicate their power and their~ pain . : "Brood of vipers, who warned you to fly from the retribution that is coming? Even now the ax is~laid to the roots of the trees. Any tree which fails td'.'produce good fruit.owill be cut down and thrown into the fire'~ (Lk .3:7-9). In Process." John the Baptist /_499 And the flame of his own vigilant spirit burned without being con-sumed. Then, one day, He came. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he strode across ~the hills and asked for baptism. The relief which floods John is almost pathetic in expression. The force of vindication overwhelms him and in torrential words he iterates: This is the one I spoke of when I said: A man~is coming after me who ranks be'fore me because he existed before me. I did not know him myself, and yet it was to reveal him to .Israel that I came baptizing with water . I saw the Spirit coming down on him from heaven like a dove and resting On him. I did not know him myself~ but he who sent me to baptize with water had said to me: 'The man on whom you See the Spirit come down and rest is the one who is going to baptize with the Holy Spirit.' Yes, I have seen and I am the witness that he is the Chosen One of' God. (Jn 1:30-34). The ph'rases are haunting: "I did not know him myself, and. yet it was to reveal him to Israel that I came baptizing with water . I did not .know him myself., and yet I am the witness that he is the Chosen One of God.~ . John does~not verbalize the implied question but it resides: "Why did I not know him? Shouldn't I have known him? How could I be.asked 'to ~witness within such total darkness?" His only uttered protest, however, is humble simplicity::~ "It is I who need-baptism from you and yet you come to me" (Mr3: 14). His only answer received is to "Leave it like this for the time being; 'it is fitting that we should, in this way, .do.all' that righteousness demands." It is another womb experience: in darkness John feels the divine intrusion and in a mystical leap of faith, he assents to his vocation. And then divinity withdraws and John is left- to wait--"for all that.righteousness demands." . Certainly, if John had little foreknowledge,.of preceding~ even'tS, he has even les~ .cohcerning those to come. His mission apparently is fulfilled; his prophecy is verified; his baptism is authenticated. What more is there to do? For what does he still wait? What yet will "righteousness demand"? And then in mounting disbelief, John begins to see, the route---the :winding way. he must tread after straightening other ~roads; the~rough trail he must walk after smoothing other .paths. He never asks the question "What will become of me?" He merely waits,for it to be fulfilled. The womb, the wilderness and the rivet will meet,,within the prison. Sensing, this, John begins divesting. , What a lonely figure he becomes etched against the hills hand out-stretched, finger pointing towards-that elusive Someone;~''Look, there°is the Lamb of God" he,urges his disciples--and watches.as they walk away to follow a greater prophet. Even.when some faithful friends balk,, at such diminishment, John refuses consolation~and speaks of growing smaller. It is his life played backwards to confinement. It is the full cycle of seed 500 / Review ]or Religious, "l/olume 36, 1977/4 and flower and. seed. Cynics choose to call it the terminus of life. Some others, more graced, name it a beginning. All that John perceive~ is that, again, he lies in readiness, awaiting a delivery. Deep within the bowels of earth, he languishes in prison, formulating the tormented question that rings acrbss the ages: "Are you~the one who is to come or have we to wait for someone else?" It is a valid death cry. A man should know, shouldn't he, the reason for which he dies? If angering kings on moral issues involves the risk of life, shouldn't One" be assuaged in kho~ving the risk to be well taken? rAndso John awaits an answer from his removed, and distant Cousin-- some sort of vindication for the truth that he has uttered. It is a lonely wait made lonelier by the answer: "Go back and ~tell John what you have seen and heard: The blind see again, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear; the dead are raised to life, the Good News is proclaimed to the poor--~nd happy is the man who does'not lose faith in me (Lk 7:22-23). Jesus tells John nothing more than that he is to wait--to wait and see the signs fulfilled--signs which John foretold. He sends this message know-ing well that John will never behold any of that for which he preached and forowhich he will give his life. And with an utter emptiness, John accepts the answer, urged to a fidelity of heart ratified in faith. The rest is just the spectacle--bringing all things to fulfillment--"all that-righteousness demands." Thus, in one sense, John's life ends whim-sically, of no account or importance weighed against a girlish dance. And yet, in another ~ense, it ends with abrupt savagery, brutal and unpredictable asia woman's.rage. In the darkness of confinement John feels divine intrusion and in a .mystical leap of faith he assents to his vocation, And 'then divinity with-draws, and John is left to wait--to wait for his disciples to place him in the earth. And so, he does not hear, of course, the tribute he is paid: "I tell you, of all the children born of women, there is none greater than John" (Lk 7:28,). For he is still awaiting the ultimate birth, when Jesus the Messiah will deliver him from death. His. life is prophetic, not because of what he said, but because of how he .lived. The irony is that he did not know this. He was a man in process, with a heart full of questions, with a tongue full of words, with a head full of visions. He could never quite integrate the visions and the questions and the words because he lived in mystery. All he could do was wait~-- wait in silence and °darkness and faith--for the words to be uttered, for .the questions to be answered, for the vision to be fulfilled. And in this hi~ is our brother--and very near to us. Towards a Sacramental and Social Vision of Religious Life Philip J. Rosato, S.J. Father Rosato teaches theology at St. Joseph's College and also to the novices of his province (Maryland). He resides at St. Alphonsus House; 5800 Overbrook Ave.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Today there are signs that the crisis which has marked religious life since Vatican II is waning. Religious watched the pendulum swing from an overly institutional conception of vowed life during the pre-conciliar period, to an overly individual condeption of the vows during the period directly after the Council. If the one conception was so communal that the individual religious suffocated due to a lack of personal freedom and self-worth, the other was so intensely individualistic that the religious froze due to isolation and loneliness as each one sought separately to gain freedom and identity. The one extreme was God-centered almost .to the detriment of the human; the other was man-centered almost to the point of excluding the divine. Now a new synthesis of these opposing conceptions is emerging. There is a felt need to correlate the spiritual and the human, the ecclesial and the personal, the eschatologic'al and the psychological? Thus a more sacra-mental understanding of religious life is in the air. Today's religious 'are struggling to keep God-centeredness and man-centeredness together in fruitful tension, just as the two foci of an ellipse, though distinct, form one ovular figure. This paper will aim at developing some of the dimensions of this new turn in the theology of the religious life. 1This search after a synthesis is evident in the Documents o] the XXXil General Congregation o[ the Society o[ Jesus (Washington: The Jesuit Conference, 1975L the central theme of which is stated as "Our Mission Today: The Service of Faith and the Promotion of Justice," pp. 17-43. 501 502 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 Religious Life and Contemporary Theology: Living the Third Section of the Creed One way of schematizing the different theologies behind each of the ex-tremes noted above would be to look to the Apostles' Creed, a key statement of Christian belief and a touchstone of all theology. Previously religious life was too Father-centered, too centered on the first section of the creed. The vows took on such an ethereal and transcendent dimension that many religious stifled their humanity in order to live out their promise to the Father. The other extreme, centered solely on the second (Son) section of the creed, resulted in an incarnational or Christ-centered theology of religious life. In this model the humanity of the individual religious could find breathing room again; Jesus of Nazareth was seen as a paradigm of human freedom and self-possession. This Son-centered spirituality, though a corrective to the first model, proved in the end to lead many religious to such an affirmation of the human person that the need to lose one's self and to qualify self-centeredness through radical openness to the divine dimension was overlooked. Many religious ceased to pray, viewed com-munity life as a denial of their freedom and the institution of the Church and of their own congregation itself as a hindrance.to social relev~ance and engagement as well as to self-fulfillment. As religious search for a new balance today, it might be possible that a theology of the Spirit, that is, of the third section of the creed, could offer them a new model by which to combine Father, centeredness and Son-centeredness.'-' If the Spirit is the bond of love between the Father and the Son, it may be that Spirit-theology could lead to a synthetic theology of religious life which, grounded in love for God and man, avoids stressing either God's transcendence over his immanence, or Godls immanence over his transcendence. A Spirit-centered theology of the religious life could well bring religious back to the kind of balance which is currently being sought in the mainstream of theological speculatiofl today.:' " Why is this so? The third section of the creed links the Spirit with the pneumatic life of the community, with sacrament, service and mission. "I believe in the Holy Spirit, in the one, holy catholic and apostolic Church. I believe in the communion of saints." According to the Spirit-model~ religious life would be viewed as a specific way of living within the com-munion of the saints.The third section also affirms the reality of forgive-ness and of grace: "I believe in one baptism for the forgiveness of sins." If this were underlined, religious life could be seen as 9 special way of living out the Christian life of forgiveness and of being totally dependent on ~Karl Barth and Hans Urs von Balthasar, Einheit und Erneuerung der Kirche (Frei-burg: Paulusverlag, 1968), p. 12. aAvery Dulles, Models o[ the Church (New York: Doubleday & Co., 1974). pp. 58-70, where Dulles discusses the Church as a sacrament, a model which balances visible and invisible aspects of the Church most directly. Towards a Vision of Religious Life / 503 baptismal grace? Finally, the third section stresses the eschatological hope .of all Christians for themselves and for the whole cosmos: "I believe in the resurrection of the body and life everlasting." According to this phrase, religious must be marked as men and women of daring, of vision, of hope. In short, a~ theology of religious life based on the third'section 0f the creed ,would be pneumatic, ecclesial, apostolic, dependent on grace and eschat-ological. Inca word, it would be sacramental; it would take both the divine and the human most seriously and keep them in continual tension. But sacramental means more than bringing the divine and the human 'into a synthetic vision. Sacrament in this context also has to do 'with the sign-function which makes religious life distinctive. Religious live from grace more~ visibly and more unmistakably, that is, more sacramentally, than other Christians. Their life is not better than that of the baptized layman or laywoman, but it is less ambiguouS a sign, a pointer, a witness to the 'reality of grace? Religious live at the center of the Church and yet point to its eschatological edge. They live in the world as much as lay people do, but they are fascinated by the frontier, by the "not yet" of the promised kingdom of God. Religious life thus has a prophetic and end-time char-acter. This particular form of ecclesial life gives unmistakable and visible expression to the pneumatic, enthusiastic and eschatological elements of faith which are essential to the whole Church. Religious manifest God's victorious grace in the world by pointing beyond the world: The com-munity of religious humbly gives witness to the reality of paschal grace for 'all~ men and women by living~totally from forgiveness and from hope. Sacramental thus means that religious unmistakably witness to the divine and to the human in Christ and in his Church, and that Christ!s restless dynamism and his restful faithfulness to. God a~d man are most clearly symbolized in the ~world through the lives of religious in the Church,'~ The religious as such are at rest and yet restless, very human and very close to God as Christ was. This is the sacramental, Spirit-cgntered quality of re-ligious life. , It would be wrong, therefore, to separate the sacramental character of religious life from its 'social character. For the social and the sacramental go hand in hand. The vows ar~ ~not private promises; they are public signs in the midst of the world which offer prgmise to all men and women of the ultimate alleviation of want and pain at the eschatological fulfillment of the human and of the natural world. Too often in th+ past the theology of the vows had tgo little to do with the poverty of the world, with its loneliness 4Joseph Ratzinger, Introduction to Christianity, trans, by J. R. Foster (New York: The Seabury Press, 1969), pp. 257-259. :'Karl Rahner, "The Life of the Counsels," .Theology Digest XIV (1966) 224-227. "Karl Barth, Dogmatics in Otttline, trans, by G. T. Thomson (New ~York: Harper & Row, 1959), p. 148. 504 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 and search for love and intimacy, with its desire for independence and free-dom. Poverty, chastity and obedience were, as it were, divorced from the real needs of others. Today :it is important to view the vows in light of the social and human problems of the whole community of men and women,r Only in this light will religious life maintain its true sign-function. In the midst of human poverty, voluntary poverty says no to man's injustice and lack of concern for the brokenhearted and the hungry. In the face of the sexual loneliness and frustration of contemporary society voluntary chastity says no to man's search for warmth merely through uncommitted pleasure. In the midst of a world crying out for freedom, voluntary obedience says no to man's use of brute power and violence to bring about a more inde-pendent future. Today the sign-function of religious life, its sacramental witness to the power of the Spirit of God, must be seen as most .relevant to the social problems of the day. The more identical religious are to their vows; the more relevant they will be to society in its deepest yearning for liberation,s The future of religious life, therefore, must be more sacramental and more social. The rest of this p.aper will try to spell out these two themes by.examining each of the three vows. One preliminary question, however, still remains. Which of. the vows, by its very nature, is most clearly pri-mary, in that it best ,demonstrates the sacramental and social dependence of religious on grace? It would seem that obedience is primary, since, though many Christians may live a poor and a chaste life, only religious live out poverty and chastity in the context of obedience to other members of the communion of saints in their particular religious institute? Religious find God's will for them by discerning the needs of the world with the help of the religious superiors in the community. Furthermore, obedience is the hallmark of Christ's own relationship to the Father; he humbled himself to the conditions of his human existence and became obedient unto death. In what follows, therefore, the main stress will be put on obedience as the distinctively evangelical way of living in the communion of saints. Then poverty and chastity will be seen in light of obedience, Finally community life itself will be viewed as resulting from the three .vows" and as essential to the prophetic and critical apostolate of the religious, in the world. In this-way it is hoped that a view of the religious life of the future will be rDocuments o] the XXXII General Congregation o] the Society o] Jesus, p. 13. sJiirgen Moltmann, The Crucified God: The Cross o] Christ as the Foundation and Criticism o] Christian Theology, trans, by R. A. Wilson and J. Bowden (New York: Harper & Row, 1974), pp. 7-18. 'aKarl Rahner, ',A Basic lgnatian Concept: Some Reflections on Obedience," trans, by Joseph P. Vetz Woodstock Letters 86 (1957), pp. 302-305. As opposed to others, such as Ladislas Orsy whose work is cited below, Rahner chooses obedience and not chastity as the central vow, and sees poverty and chastity as two ways of living out the total commitment to grace which obedience signifies. Towards a Vision of Religious Life / 505 presented which is both more balanced and more relevant, more sacra-mental and more social. Obedience and the Human Cry for Freedom: Becoming Independently Loyal Religious When the early Christian communities came together, they were known for their desire to discover God's will for them through corporate discern-ment which had as its aim a concerted effort to preach the gospel and min-ister to the needy. Each member of the community was aware of his or her own gifts and was allowed to exercise them in the common task of wit-nessing to the grace of Christ in the world. Yet each individual was also loyal to the whole community. This type of fruitful balance between indi-viduals and the institution led the early Christians to see the relevance of their life-style for those outside the community who were searching for freedom as well as for unity."' For too long religious superiors in the Church did not allow individual religious to be independent, to exercise per-sonal responsibility or to find ways of making religious life relevant to the hunger for freedom in the world which marks the history.of modern man. As religious look into the future, it seems that obedience is a possible waY of expressing both the sacramental and the social dimension of being a Christian. Obedience is not the loss or relinquishment of personal freedom, but the means by which religious are more open to grace and more sensi-tive to the cry for liberation which is being heard throughout the globe.11 Through obedience religious give witness both to. the interrelation of the divine and the human in the world, and to the freedom of the gospel which has profound significance for the liberation which is so desired by all today. The religious obedience of tomorrow must therefore become more sacramental, that is, more unmistakably a sign of the divine and the human dimensions of freedom. The religious must become an independently loyal 'person. This means that more personal freedom on the part of the indi-vidual should lead to greater corporate fidelity and commitment rather than to less. If before, obedience either constricted religious or left them so free that they were not working together in a concerted way, obedience in the future must combine a healthy sense of individual inde.pendence with a pronounced sense of corporate responsibility for the preaching of the gospel and for the service of the whole human community. The more self-deter-mined and independent a religious is, the more ready he or she should be to accept the discernment of the community as it decides how the aposto-late can be carried out effectively. Thus obedience in the future should not 1°See-Martin Hengel, Poverty and Riches in the Early Church (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1974). 11Karl Rahner, "A Basic Ignatian Concept: Some Reflections on Obedience," pp. 299 and 308. 506 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 be understood as submission to traffic laws which govern the well-being of the community, but as a quality of ecclesial existence which is not an end in itself but which exists for the concerted apostolate of witness and ser-vice. 1'-' The individual charisms of religious should be fostered so that the ecclesial service of the whole congregation is intensified. In tfiis way obedience will have a pneumatic and eschatological character and be an unmistakable sign that the Church depends totally on grace by discover-ing God's will through a genuine listening to the fellowship of the saints. Once religious obedience regains its original sign-value by producing men and women for the Church who are independently loyal, this vow will no longer be seen as simply a private matter between the individual religious and God through his or her superiors. Obedience will be a sign to the whole society in which the religious lives and works. It will broadcast the fact that a life of faith has tremendous ,import for the liberation movement.13 What all men and 'women seek is a way of being free individually and cor-porately; in their scepticism over whether such a realization of corporate freedom is possible, they turn away from Christian revelation ~and ground their freedom on some other basis. Religious who can' live in obedience and who are still free to contribute their talents and energies to the human task of building' up the world in expectation of the coming kingdom of God offer the broader society around them a paradigm of human freedom in brotherhood. This societal dimension of religious obedience is not as emphasized as it should be. Religious tend to view themselves in abstrac-tion from the world which is searching for a genuine form of freedom. The eschatological sign-function of obedience, however, is that it speaks not only to. 'those in the Church and in the congregation, but also to those out-side it who yearn for liberation. In the future religious obedience must be so conceived .and so lived that it becomes a beacon of hope for those who hunger for independence in the context of interdependence.14 In this way religious obedience is itself an invitation to faith in Jesus Christ and to hope in him and his Spirit as the guarantors of man's search for liberation within a community. Poverty and the Human Cry |or Justice: Becoming Self-possessed, Sharing Religious , ~ ~ As was the case with obedience, religious poverty was often presented as an ascetical norm by which an individual religious could attain detachment from the world and lean towards God alone. This concept of poverty, how- 12Ladislas M. Orsy, Open to the Spirit: Religious Li]e alter Vatican 11 (Washington: Corpus Books, 1968), pp. 159-160. 13Gustavo Gutierrez, A Theology o] Liberation: History, Politics and Salvation, trans. by Sr. Caridad Inda and John Eagleson (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1973), pp. 104-105. 14Avery Dulles, The Survival'o] Dogma: Faith, Authority and Dogma it~ a Changh~g World (New York: Doubleday & Co., 1971), pp. 52-57. Towards a Vision o[ Religious Li[e / 507 ever, had two debilitating effects: it made religious doubt their own self-worth by~ creating in them guilt feelings concerning their use of material things, and it isolated religious poverty from real poverty and thus deprived the former of its relevance for the latter. Many religious lost all sense of their own personal dignity by never becoming responsible in their use of possessions. Often they were not taught how to 'treasure and protect the goods at their disposal. Poverty was more a matter of not using something than it was of sharing goods with the needy and the hungry. As religious look to the future, it seems that religious poverty will be a way of becoming self-possessed and yet sharing persons.1:' This vow should not make religious childishly dependent on superiors, but responsible Christians who share all they have and are with others. Religious poverty should open the hearts of religious to the cry of the poo.r for bread, for protection and for justice. The vow of poverty can only do this if it becomes more sacramental and more social. The religious poverty of tomorrow must take on its original sign-func-tion. It must be an eschatolog!cal sign of hope in the midst of human want. It can only do so if religious freely choose to identify with the poor in order to bring them to faith in Christ's promise to be with them in their hunger and' to alleviate their misery. Religious are not destitute, but they freely elect to be like the very poor, so as to share whatever excess goods they have with their brothers and sisters in poverty."~ In effect religious pattern forth a model, of a sharing. Christian community to the whole Chuich. In this way religious poverty regains its prophetic and end-time character. It urges the whole Church tO be equally concerned with the hungry and encourages those who live 'in unjust' circumstances to hope. in the Christ who became poor,for their sake and who is preSent to them through the love of religious. The poverty of religious is 'therefore not an end in itself, but a form of ecclesial life for the destitute, so that they can hear .the gospel and taste its power. Religious who are self-possessed, sharing people give witness to their dependence on grace in the use and possession of material goods. They are an unmistakable sign to the world that the Christian community does not exist for itself and is. not insensitive to human misery,lr Religious poverty is a catalyst which makes the whole Church bring the grace of Christ into the homes and the hearts of the poor. Religious poverty, as a.sacramental sign,,mustrediscover its sociological roots as well as its theological significance. Just as the Eucharist is a meal l~Horacio de.la Costa, "A .More Authentic iPoverty," Studies in the Spirituality o[ Jesuits Vlli (1976), pp. 56-57. 16David B. Knight, "St. Ignatius' Ideal of Poverty," Studies it, the Spirituality o[ Jesuits IV (1972), pp. 25-30. lrPhilip Land, "Justice, Development, Liberation and the Exercises," Studies itl the International Apostolate o] Jesuits V (1976), pp. 19-21. 508 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 which has social as well as re!igious dimensions, since Christ cannot be recognized in the eucharistic bread if he is not first recognized in the poor and the hungry, so religious poverty presupposes that the religious choose poverty because they recognize Christ's presence among those who are in ghettoes, in prisons, ;in nursing homes and in soup kitchens,is Byobeing poor, religious,,also identify with Christ in the helpless, the confused, the power-less, the uneducated and the injured even in the midst of affluence. This identification is not, as the Marxists claim, the way in which Christians sanction injustice. Rather. the religious chooses to be identified with the poor so that Christ's promise of ultimate liberation from want becomes a present reality for the destitute. The charity which being voluntarily poor makes possible is nothing else than the religious' desire to feed the poor in the name of Christ and thus to bring them more than bread, shelter, technical assistance and organizational techniques. The religious witnesses to God's grace in the face of the evil that does more than deprive the poor of food and power, but also deprives them of dreams and hope?"' Chastity and' t.he Human Cry for Warmth and Fidelity: Becoming Sexual and Celibate Religious At a time when the sexual revolution is sending shock waves through the institution of marriage, religious celibacy certainly ~akes on a different character than it did only a decade ago. In the past most people viewed the religious as asexual people who lacked human affection and warmth. This critique was partially justified. Many religious were taught to suppress their sexual feelings and even more their sexual identity, The beauty of human sexuality was often underplayed in formation, and religious were encouraged to live as though they did not have bodies, feelings, sexual roles or psychological needs for intimacy and friendship. Recently religious have rediscovered how to be at peace with the fact that they are sexual beings, and are now learning tO live with their sexuality by making it a vital source of energy and enthusiasm in their apostolates,'-"' Yet there is a deeper mean-ing to religious chastity which is opening up to religious in the face of modern man's frustration and loneliness in an age of sexual liberty. Many people feel isolated even in the most intimate of relationships and are exaspe{ated when the experience of marital love disintegrates into infidelity, separation or divorce. As religious become more aware of the need for bal-ance in their daily lives as celibates, they must also become more aware of the social significance of their total dependence on grace in the matter lsPhilip J. Rosato, "World Hunger and Eucharistic TheologY,," America 135 (1976), pp. 47-49. ~"JiJrgen Moltmann, Man: Christian Anthropology in the Conflicts o[ the Present, trans, by John Sturdy (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1974), pp. 116-117. ZODonald ,Goergen, The Sexual Celibate (New York: Seabury Press, 1974), pp. 115- 116. Towards a Vision o[ Religious Li]e / 509 of sexuality as this speaks to those who .are unable to make any kind.of lasting commitment."' There is no doubt that the religious chastity of tomorrow must be more sacramental than it ever was before. Religious must' be human and warm as well as genitally pure. The more their bodies and hearts belong to Godi the more they must be at the service of the love and the friendship of Christ. Celibacy .can no longer be an escape from affectionate relationships which can lead others to faith.'-'-~ A sacramental conception of chastity means that religious must be more free to give witness to the depth of divine love by practicing human love faithfully, Religious can only do this not by sup-pressing, but by channeling their sexual feelings and needs. Religious celibacy must not be seen as a relinquishment of sexual identity, but as a free renunciation of valid, though ambiguous, human intimacy and ex-clusiveness. Human sexuality is therefore an important force in the Church since it gives men and women the power to introduce others into the loving relationship with God which is the end of all love.'-':' A sacramental religious chastity would.~aim to combine a true .love ot~ God with a true 10ve of' other men and women. Often the sign-function of religious chastity is lost wlaen religious fail to love deeply on a human level precisely because they do not love deeply on the supernatural level. A proper balance of both affectionate love for God and affectionate love~for others is the challenge of being both sexual and celibate. Only if the religious loves genuinely, does he or she witness to the eschatological goal of all hum~in love when Christ will return in glory to lead to completion the men and women of all ages who have ¯ sought to reach out to others and commit themselves to him through them. The sacramental, then, cannot be seen in isolation from the social. If religious free themselves from exaggerated 6goism in the form. of self-serv-ing gratification which results in insensitivity to the needs of others, it is only for the sake of the kingdom of Christ and for the sake of others who are lonely, frustrated, unfree sexually or subjected to sexual abuse and lack of fidelity.:4 There is thus a very legitimate social aspect to religious chas-tity. This vow is not simply a matter,of private devotion; it has by its very nature a sociological function. This function is not simply critical in that' it protests against the excesses which result from sexual force. The sociological -°x John C. Haughey, Should Anyone Say Forever?: On Making, Keeping and Breaking Commitments (New York: Doubleday & Co., 1975), pp. 101-105. -°-~Ladislas M. Orsy, op. cit., pp. 94-97, where Orsy develops his thesis that virginity is the source of all other aspects of religious consecration. See also: Vincent O'Flaherty, "Some Reflections on Jesuit Commitment," Studies in the Spirituality o[ Jesuits 11I (1971), pp. 42-46. '-':~Donald Goergen; op. cit., pp. 220-223. See also: Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, The Divine Milieu (New York: Harper & Row, 1960), pp. 81-86. '-'~John 0. Meany, "The Psychology of Celibacy: An In-depth View," Catholic Mind LXIX (1971), pp. 18-20. 510 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 function of religious chastity is also positive. The religious models forth a pattern of human love which is not merely a blind effort to distract,man from death through embracing sexual pleasure. Christian love, as the religious :livesoit, symbolizes God's unswerving love for all and thus lends to, human love the character of a relationship with the source of all affection and warmth--God!s own trinitarian community of love. Just as obedience offers the human .search for independence an ultimate vindication, and just as religious poverty offers human want ultimate hope, so religious chastity has a social significance. It Offers the lonely and the frustrated, ~.who see human love as the only escape from absurdity, a vision of love which ultimately vindicates their own disillusionment over ,human. infidelity and hard-hearted: ness.~'~ In the person of the religious a type of faithful human love is ex-perienced which points to divine love and which thus attests that there is ~a deep, meaning to human tears and-hurt. In this sense religious chastity is sacramental as well as social. ,Religious Community and Christian Mission: the Locus of Healing Criticism o The basic thesis of this paper is that, just as religious faith in geheral has a sociological dimension in that it is concerned with justice, so also does religious life. The more identical religious are with their own tradition, the more able they are to criticize the society around them when it fails to live up to its responsibility to heal broken men and women.'-'~' Just as the whole Church serves faith by promoting justice, so the religious community lives out its prophetic and end:time sign-function by bringing the healing presence of Christ to the unfree, the poor and the lonely. The other theme, which has been woven into the first, is that religious can only be signs'of a critical and healing love if they themselves are balanced, Only if religious channel human talent and divine grace into an on-going sacramental.synthesis, can the~, carry out their call to be Christ's healing presence where men and women .harm each other by not living according to human,, and religious values.° The quest for personal identity which many religious are going through today is not irrelevant to the quest for the social relevance of the whole Church which is more pressing.:~ This paper would qike to assert that a more sacramental type of religious life would lead to a more socially relevant, precisely because socially critical, understanding of vowed life. -~Peter L. Berger, A Rumor o] Angels: Modern Society attd the RedisCovery o] the Supernatural (New York: Doubleday & Co., 1969), pp. 53~75. "~Pedro Arrupe, "The Hunger for Bread and Evangelization: Focus on the 'Body of Christ, the Church' in the Service of Faith and the Promotion of Justice," Interna-tional Symposium on Hunger: The 41st International Eacharistic Congress (Phila-delphia: St. Joseph's College Press, 1976), pp. 21-24.o -°:John Courtney Murray, The Problem o] God Yesterday and Today (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1964), pp. 119-121. Towards a Vision o[ Religious "Li]e / .511 -, In effect~ this paper is advocating that a Spirit-centered Christology~be the mrdel for an understanding of the sacramental, that is, the spiritual and the social, significance of religious life today. For. the Spirit-filled Jesus did not allow himself to be categorized or to be understood solely in terms of any of the typical expectations which were prevalent' in his time. Instead he insisted on his identity as the one who proclaimed that the kingdom of God is near. The close identification between Spirit-theology and eschatology in the Scriptures leads us to see that Jesus' eschatological message was the fruit of his Spirit-filled being.~ In him God's future broke into the world time. God's kingdom dawned upon man and offered the whole cosmos the ability to head towards a new future that was guaranteed to it by the fully Spirit-filled and glorified Jesus. A Spirit-filled person and a Spirit-filled community, therefore, is esgentially a critical one; it is restless until the c~osmos is complete, until the kingdom'of God breaks definitely int6 its rriidst. Yet it,is also at rest because that kingdom is already a present phenomenon through the Spirit's activity in the ecclesial°community spe-cifically and in the whole cosmos as well.~' Religious who live together at the heart of the .Church are particularly the locus where the Spirit's activity everywhere is made most visible and most inc~indescent. A religious com-munity is a critical'community because it is not totally at peace until the kingdom is manifestly present. This critical function of religious communities in the Church adds a special~character to all of the vows, to their life-together and to their apostolate. As indicated in this paper, all of the vows are eschatological, and therefore critical, by nature. Th(y do not criticize society for the sake of criticism, but in order to awaken all men and women tb the'presence of God's kingdom which is already hiddi~n among them. Religious are also 'critical of each other since they are corhpelled to urge their brothers and sisters to live in the presence of the coming God and to view all things, and especially the community itself, as elements ~of an as yet incomplete cosmos which needs the healing and purifying presence of the Spirit.:"' If religious are critical of many aspects of 'their community 'life, it is not because~ they are discontent by nature, but because they long for the ever-fuller manifestation of the kingdom in their community, and thUg call their ¯ fellow religious to be what they are meant to be: a sign of the eschatological promise of God in the every-day life of the world. Re, ligious witness to God's coming in the midst of~ man's coming and going. The same is true of the zsC. K. Barrett, The Holy Spirit in the Gospel Tradition. 5th ed. (London: SPCK Press, 1970), pp. 153-156. :gWolfhart Pannenberg, The Apostles' Creed in the Light o] Today's Questions, trans. by Margaret Kohl (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1972), pp. 139-143. aopierre Teilhard de,Chardin, The Divine Milieu, p. 112. See also: Avery Dulles, "The Church, the Churches and the Catholic Church," Theological Studies XXXIII (1972), pp. 222-224. 512 / Review ]or .Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 apostolate. Religious seek to make their work a sign, of the eschatological promise of God. If any work loses this end-time character and does not sign forth to others a longing for God's ultimate fulfillment of all creatures, it,has. Ios!~ its salt. Religious community, therefo.re, is not a haven of peace, but a place where members of the communion of saints strive to be ever more Church, ever more a community of pilgrims who await the coming of the Lord and work to prepare his way.:"- In the end religious communities, like the Lord whom they follow, canno~t, be categorized since they have a unique mission. That' mission is service.of men and women in the world with the specific intention of open-ing them to the Spirit who, is the bringer of the kingdom. Religious are not private individuals with an interior depth and an exterior way of life which facilitates and disciplines their co-existence for its own sake. Religious are social beings whose religious commitment is a public sign of God's promise. Their life is sacramental because it is a confluence of the material and the spiritual, the social and the religious, ~just as the being of Jesus was and remains sacramental.:~ Life in the third section of the creed is essentially sacramental life. A visible community of men and women exist in unity, in holiness, in universal openness and in apostolic service. They proclaim for-giveness and look to hope; they allow the Holy Spirit~to work among men, so that he can create a human body of men and women who are joined in word and sacrament to Jesus Christ. They are living signs in each genera-tion of the Church that the Spirit-filled Jesus will return and that he is in-deed already among men and women who wait in hope for him. The special form of life in the communion of saints and of life in the context of the third section of the creed make religious a healing and yet critical presence in society. As independently loyal, as self-possessed and sharing, as sexual and celibate persons who live in commun.ity and witness to the social dimension of the gospel, religious are a model Church in minia-ture, a local congregation of believers who have a sacramental as well as a social function.:':~ Their very existence is a visible sign that Spirit-filled indi-viduals in community can heal the brokenhearted and at the same time criticize the social institutions which are indifferent to the unfree, the poor and the lonely. In light of the thesis which forms the underpinnings of this paper, namely that religious life is both sacramental and social, it can be sa~!d that to deny either element would be to .lessen both the identity of religious life and its sociological relevance. The vows of religious make them into a community which can heal as well as criticize. Religious stand up in the cen.ter of the Churqh and, like Jesus at Nazareth's synagogue, .~lAvery Dulles, Models o] the Church, pp. 149-150. a~Edward Schillebeeckx, Christ, the Sacrament o1 the Encounter with God (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963), pp. 13-20. 3aKarl Rahn~r. "The Life of the Counsels." Theology Digest X1V (1966), pp. 226-227. Towards a Vision of Religious Life / 513 identify themselves with the words from Isaiah which he chose to define his own mission: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord (Lk 4:18-19). This is the sacramental and social function of religious life. The vows speak to the world in a way which reminds all men and women of the healing work of Jesus of Nazareth and which causes them to gaze into the future and to be critical of the present, since they wait for the promise that "the kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ" (Rv 11:15). Deep within "becoming seed," sheltered in soil of fertile earth, life stirred-- and broke the barrior of crusted shell. Rooting down and pushing up, till tender shoot, warmed.by sun and washed in r~in, ., ~ budded :i prelude of l~idden beauty among foliage of natured kin: ,Serenely being, silently becoming, patiently maturing-- flowered sleep---still heavy and cloistered. Gentle wind touches, but bends not the bough: Storm pellets thee earth, but yields vanquished to supple strength of maturing bloom. Nature's war ended, beauty emerges, uniqu~e witness of silent fidelity-- of woven strands of love, a flower unlike it~ kih-- beyond and beside all others. Humble~herald of "terrestial otherness," prophetic vision of "Celestial bliss." Sister Mary Nanette 'Herman', S.N.D. 1600 Carlin Lane McLean, VA 22101 The Kingdom of God --Our Home Donald McQuade, M.M. Father McQuade is stationed at the residence of the Maryknoll Fathers; Box 143; Davao City, Philippines 9501." Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother and his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary of Magdala. Seeing his mother and the-disciple he loved standing near her, Jesus said to his mother, 'Woman, this is your son.' Then to the disciple he said, 'This is your mother.' And from that moment the disciple made a place for her in his home (Jn 19:25-27). The Catholic Church has traditionally seen in this passage of John's gospel the role of Mary as the spiritual mother not only of the Church, but of each individual Christian--each of us who share by the mystery of grace in the very life of Jesus himself, Mary's son. In going beyond this basic insight, the pas'sage also reveals the incredible depths of the love of Jesus for all of his brothers and sisters, ~and perhaps in a particular way fbr those who, like "the disciple he loved," have responded to his invitation to leave all things and follow him completely,, and who continue today to stand with him by the cross. JesuS' words--and the graceful gift they contain-- spoken to John on Calvary, l~ave been repeated to all of his disciples and friends down through the. ages. They too, like John, are to "make a place for Mary in their home." But just where is the home of a disciple in which Mary is to live? It is obviously more than any physical reality. Even a "~,arm ~ind healthy milieu of loving human relationships, though necessary and contributory, still do not completely encompass the reality of a disciple',s home. For the home of a disciple must ultimately be conCerned with the depths of his faith, his hope and hi~s lov.e. It is there at the very roots of his being, where he comes in touch with God :an~l where the Spirit moves and breathes the life and the Word within him, that a disciple is truly "at home." 514 The Kingdom o[ God." Our Home / 515 Quite,simply, the home of a disciple is the kingdom of God. And the kingdom is ,within us (.Lk 17:21). A disciple makes .himself at home to the. extent that ~he: shares in the kingdom, to the degree ~that.the Lord lives within: him. And so, a chosen friend of our Lord is really meant to. be at home.:anywhere in the world. ~ On the night, before he died, Jesus promised his friends his parting gift of,~peace and joy in the Spirit (Jn 14:27)~ To be at peace and full of a deep and abiding joy; to be so free in today's regimented world that a ~disciple can be completely and fully himself---to others, to God, and to him-selfLto trust in the .Lord's care totally; to have a joyous and real hope .in life; to see the miracles of creation-and, of .God's loving providence con-tinually unfolding in the world about him despite the evil, the suffering, the sin.; to love deeply; and in turn to know and feel oneself incredibly loved .--this is a disciple's home; this is the kingdom of God on earth. However, the gift of a home in our Father's house which was prepared for~and given to us by Jesus (Jn 14:2) is, like,all his gifts, not an exclusive or selfish right for the disciple alone: It is given to be shared. It grows more loving and more profound to the extent that others are invited to enter into itnf0r we are compelled by Jesus,.himself to.invite our brothers and sisters into our home, into the kingdom. This is an invitation desperately"neede~d in~the.world today--the witness of men and ~women whose lives' reflect the peace and love of Christ and become an,, unspoken invitation t6 "come and see" the Source of such joy. So much has been written in recent years (and which can be readily seen and experienced all around us) of the alienation and loneliness of the men and women of our times. Threatened, on edge, never truly relaxed, so often without faith or a deeply meaningful .reason for life, many people today live, in Thoreau's phrase, "lives of quiet desperation." Increasingly, relief is sought in an excessive dependence on alcohol, in drugs, perhapg in hedonism or some other temporary escape. But the haunting and ultimately deadly loneliness, isolation and meaning-lessness of much of modern life always returns. This experience, so common today, of loneliness and despair, of never really feeling at home in the world is captured perfectly in Jesus" parable of the prodigal son. After the son has squandered everything he had in-herited on a life of debauchery, he is left totally alone, abandoned by his friends, reduced to a job of feeding swine while he himself is starving. In despe.ration he decides to return to his father, now emptied of all his former pride and arrogance, tremendously ashamed and feeling absolutely worth-less, a broken man, but a man who admits to being what he is--a sinner. He now seeks only enough to keep alive; and so he turns, to go home. In his state and in anticipation of meeting his father, he comes up with a prac-ticed, rather stilted request: "Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be your son; treat me as one of your paid servants." So he left the place and went back to his father. While he 516 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 was still a long way off,~ his father saw him and was moved with pity. He ran to the boy clasped him in his arms and kissed him tenderly (Lk 15: 18-21). The.son hesitantly ~begins to recite his rehearsed line, "I no longer deserve to be your son . ".but the father doesn't even hear him in his overwhelming love and desire to give back to his son all that he has. "My son was dead and has come back to life; he was lost and is found." "My son, after so long a time in lonely and desperate searching, in suffering and being shattered by despair. -. my son who was lost has.come home." Thankfulness, joy, peace--there is really no word to describe the feel-ing of a man or woman who has deeply experienced the infinite and tender love of God our Father personally. Nor can any words ever adequately con-vey the fullness of the kingdom of God--the loving home into which the Spirit leads us even now. The whole life of Jesus has been an incredible gilt to us. At the very end of it, on the cross, he gave us the gift he held most dear in this world --Mary his beloved mother, to be our mother. We are "to make a place for her in our 'home." For she truly belongs in o,ur home, in the kingdom of God within us. This home needs a mother; the kingdom is incomplete without her. For our home, the kingdom, is in the final analysis the life of Jesus Christ, the incarnate Son of God, within us, and concerning the mystery of his life, upon which all creation hinges, Mary his mother most definitely has a very special place. Mary: Type and Model of the Church Barbara Albrecht Translated by St. Lucia Weidenhaven, O.D.(7. Doctor Barbara Albrecht has studied Catholic and Protestant theology, philosophy and Christian social studies at Marburg, Ttibingen, Freiburg and Miinster, receiving her doctorate in Catholic theology. She is head of the Training Center for Parish helpers ¯ in both Bottrop and Miinster. This article originally appeared in Christliche Inner-lichkeit II, I. Sister Lucia is a member of the Carmelite Convent; N. unnery Lane; Darlington; Co. Durham, England D13 9PN. It is not particularly fashionable to speak about Mary. But for the sake of the Church, which we are ourselves, it is necessary--one could even say urgently necessary--to swim against the stream. What is our situation? Hans Urs von Balthasar hits the nail on the head when he says: "The post-conciliar Church has largely lost her mystic features. She has become a church of permanent dialogues, organizations, commissions, congresses, synods, councils, academies, parties, pressure-groups, functions, structures and changes of structures, sociological experi-ments, statistics: more than ever before a ma!.e church." Without Mary the Church becomes "functional, soul-less, a hectic brganization without resting-point, alienated . . . and because in this male world one new ideology replaces the other, the atmosphere becoines polemical, c~itichl, humorless, and finally dull, and people leave his Church in masses.''1 There are many reasons for ~this state of things. Let us disentangle a single thread and think for a while about it. Let us ask ourselves whether, perhaps, a sometimes excessively isolated Marian piety, no longer rooted in the theology of Christ and of the Church, has not contributed to this IK/arstellungen (Freiburg, 1971). 517 5111 / Review for Religious, Volume 36;~ 1977/4 situation¯ Not without reason does the glorious final chapter of the Dog-matic Constitution on the Church of VatiEan II point out that true devo-tion to Mary must grow from true doctrine. But this question we only wish to ask in passing. Our aim is to speak of Mary herself: to contemplate not so much what she is, but how she is what she is: anima ecclesiastica--the clear, transparent type and model of the Church. Mary as type of the Church: thus she was seen and loved esp~ecially by the Christians and theologians of the first centuries who pondered on the tremendous challenge this implies. If we moderns wish to know what it means to be the Church, we, too, have to think about her .again, because in Mary the Church's attitude is exemplified in crystal purity. We can here only sketch a few outlines of this Marian-ecclesial attitude. Mary--Type of the Obedient Church Let us recall the beginnings of our whole Christian and ecclesial existence: Nazareth; a young woman, Mary, taken into service by God as receptacle for his eternal Word the mighty, infinite Word; Mary, wholly listening, all openness, space for the Holy Spirit, type of a Church not regarding herself, not centered around herself, but always orientated towards God: at his disposal in unconditional obedience, lovingly bpen to his Word, and putting no limit~ in his way. l~either man,'nor the Church, but only God has all the right. Mary is surrendered to him "in strength and in weak-ness: in the strength of one who is ready for anything God or~dains, and in the weakness of one who has already been taken possession of completely, weak eno~ugh to recognize the power of God.''~ "My grace is sufficient for thee, for power~is made perfect in infirmity" (2 Co 12, 9). This directive is not only given to Paul, it is given to Mary, to the Church, to every single one of us. And whfit is the word which God addresses t6 Mary? The word of the good news of the coming of God, of the I~irth of the Lord among men, an-nouncement of the joy that shall be for all the people. The~Angel says t0 her, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, the power of the Most,.High~ will overshadow you. You shall conceive and bear a son." He does not ask cautiously, "Would you be ready to receive the word of G0dT' No detailed explanations are given, but it is stated very definitely: so it shall be! This is an absolute divine command. Th9 weight of the grace that God should allow a human being to cooperate in the salvation of the world falls on Mary. Not her action, but the action of God "not her~'rea~li-ness, but that of God, is the first thing for man. The initiative rests with God, not with man. Mary's action, the cooperation of the Church, is accomplished in receiving, in the acceptance of the saving-act of God.oTh6 s~mple wholehearted Yes of obedient love is the answer. "I am the hand- 2Adrienne von Speyr. Mary: Type and Model o[ the Church / 519 maid of the Lord, be it done unto me according to your word." Uncondi-tional readiness for God's demand, obedience that cuts into the flesh; a response that is a plunge into an abyss, because it is God alone who gives fullness and content to this response, and to any genuine response in the Church. There is no margin left for any possible and justifiable ifs and buts. "You shall . " And on Mary's part there is no demand for ano.explana-tion, h new exegesis, as it were, for God could'not possibly have meant what' he said!--There is only Yes or No, surrender or refusal. The word is clear as crystal, and, so is the answer of obedience. We are at the origin not of a "stretched" or "colored" obedience, but at the origin of the "uncolored obediences" to use an image,of Adrienne von Speyr. "In self-evidence, be-yond all,discussion, all rationalization.":' Here lies the source given and received as grace--of the possibility to dare to say Yes to the complete discipleship, as Church and member of the Church. Here, in the obedience of Mary the Church begins to be the handmaid of the Lord--confronted with the total demands of the cidl of God. Here is the source, the spring of the clear sound of the Fiat rnihi which in numberless variations has been repeated and maintained in the. Church of God throughout the ages, and must be continued throughout time to come: an echo resounding eternally. The .prayer of St. Ignatius, for example, ig. one such variation, which has influenced the history of the Church: Sume et accipe . Take, Lord, all my,,freedom.' . One could~equally mention the life and prayer of a Charlesde Foucauld, an Adrienne von Speyr, an .Edith Stein, a Mother Teresa, or other ardent members of the Church in our day, They all live in the Church in the sign of Mary, obedient to the Father's will and open to the Holy Spirit. " Nazareth-remains all through Church history as the focal-point where freedom and obedience meet; where the spotlight is thrown on the invisible grace which makes it possible to say: "All freedom unfolds from surrender and the renunciation of unrestraint. A~i:I from this t~reedom in subjection," from the obedience of those totally committed to the Lord, "proceeds every kind of fruitfulness and holiness in the Churt:h."' It is for us .to ask ourselves whethe~r we have not forgotten these fundh-mentals. MarybType of the Church Fiile~d with the Holy Spirit The attitude of listening obedience toward God the Father, the attitude of openness and receptivity to the Word which is the Son, is at once also absolute openness to the Holy Spirit. Mary allows herself to be filled, be-albid. 41bid. 520 / Review for Religious, Volume 36; 1977/4 come a dwelling-place for the Spirit, gives him room within herself. Be-cause it can be.said of her par excellence: '~I live, now not I, Christ lives in me," it can equally be said of her--and it should to some degree be said of us, the Church--"But. not I, the Spirit lives in me." One conditions the other. Both demand of Mary to be a human being totally given over to God: her whole heart, her whole soul, and all her strength. It is a matter of total identification with the Fiat once pronounced. Partial identification is in-sufficient. The source of Mary's mission is that her being is filled with the Holy Spirit by the Son. This is reflected in the story of her visit to Elizabeth. The Spirit within her makes her rise. He is the finger of God that leads her and she allows herself to be led. He is the impulse and moving-power of Maryqthe Church---on her way to bring the Son as the One who is to come, to men. The Spirit, one with the Son, communicates himself like a spark to Elizabeth, moves the child ~ within her and allows Elizabeth to recognize: the Lord in Mary. The encounter between the young and the old woman takes place in the Holy Spirit--through the Son. and on behalf of the Son. And the Spirit urges both to joyful praise of God. "There are few other examples which make it so abundantly clear how grace always over-flows and ne~ver remains alone. It goes from Jesus--in the Spirt--to Mary, from Mary to Elizabeth, from Elizabeth to John, in order to be poured out here more fully, and return to its divine origin, thus increased?''~ It becomes clear that the Church can only be fruitful and enkindle the joy of the gospel in others, her apostolate being only then efficacious when it springs from the total identification with the initial Fiat mihi and all it implies. "One whole person is more efficacious in the Church than 'twenty half-hearted ones," is a saying of Adrienne von Speyr. And further: ecclesial apostolate is only fruitful when it is service to which the Spirit sends. Should our energies be exhausted in multil~lying schemes and activities, without the Holy Spirit everything we do is empty and shallow. ' Mary--Type of the Praying Church What is it that enables Mary to walk in the obedience of faith, without understanding what is happening to her? It is prayer. "Be it done unto me according to your word," is her prayerful answer to the Word of God. It is not day-dreaming. It is rather her extremely wakeful "amen" to God's speaking. Prayer does not begin with man, but with God. But we cannot hear God if we begin at once .to speak ourselves. It needs silence. Only in silence can Mary, can the Church, and can we perceive what God is saying to us, and then try to conform to it completely. Mary's prayer is objective, simple, childlike submission, not a prayer of many words and considera-tions: hers is the direct answer that God expects. And the uniting factor in ~lbid. Mary." Type and Model oJ the Church / 521 this exchange is again the Holy Spirit. Through him, God's Word comes to life and grows to maturity in her, Thi,s again is only possible because Mary continues to cooperate prayerfully. Her entire activity is envelrped in contemplation. "Mary treasured 'this word' in her heart" (Lk 2, 19 and 51 ). She ponders and savors it. This contemplative pondering over the Word in the heart of Mary does not only begin with the word addressed to her by the shepherds. It begins with the conception of the Word in her womb. It even precedes it. And this "treasuring" includes everything not yet under-stood, everything beyon.d her comprehension and possibilities. This treasuring and pondering of the Word of God is something like the Church~s womb. of. contemplation, without which there can. be neither spiritual vocations, nor spiritual life, nor theological perception. Adrienne von Speyr once called prayer "the key to theology that always fits.'~' We are inclined to forget this today. And that is why the Church, losing sight of Mary, often becomes, as Hans Urs von Balthasar sketches her: a church of activism, of many and shallow words, a church without silence, where theological knowledge can-no longer mature in patience, a church without lasting fruit. The Spirit overshadowing Mary is the Spirit of obedience and at the same time the Spirit of prayer; silence, and therefore of wisdom and knowl-edge, the Spirit of counsel and of all the other gifts necessary for the service of missionary witness and ecclesial theology. No one can grasp the Marian° ecclesial mystery or any other mystery of faith with his own unaided intel-lect. They remain veiled. But they can be encompassed "by the Spirit of faith, by that intuition of love, that sense for the mystery''~' that is given to the soul in prayer. This Marian attitude is necessary for the theologian of today more than ever before: the renouncement of possession, the renounce-~ ment of a neatly fitting truth, which he has grasped.What he needs most is not intellectual theorizing but "a committed surrender in faith and docility." Humility and recognition of one's poverty: this is theology as service in love, not proving what it believes, :but witnessing tO it in the strength of the in-sight into the mysteries of God which prayer alone can give. MarymType of the Believing and Hoping Church Mary is not onlythe type of the unconditionally obedient Church, bringing forth fruit for the glory of God. Nazareth is also the beginning of a way through the darkness over which one has no control, a way in Advent-faith, a concrete unfolding of Mary's fiat in time, and a preparation for the way of the Son. She allows things to take their course. She goes the way of being tested in everyday life--without angel, without light. "Mary did not say 'yes' once, in a great moment; she has carried this 'yes' through patiently, in silence Glbid. 522 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 and constancy.''r Mary has to live 'in concrete terms what it means to be-lieve, not only until the birth of' her Son, but at Cana and in the strange rebuffs of her Son and at the ~foot of the cross; to cling to that God whose thoughts are not our thoughts, and whose plans are mysteries; to be content that God is always greater, that. he is and thinks and acts as the quite other than .ourselves, To live faith as conformity, not arguing With God, but al-ways keeping step with him--always and everywhere, not for a time, but for-ever. o - Mary's Advent-r~ad of faith is one of hope, that does not rely on any strength of. her 6wn but on God's grace; a hope not without the wavering that is ours when we become aware of the ever greater God and his demands. For our effort is not made null but is fully necessary; hope that knows the fearfulness of wondering, whether: one will come up to the expectation; never; however, leading to discouragement but always aware that power is made perfect in infirmity. Mary--the Church--can never see herself other-wise than as the lowly handmaid of the Lord; a Church not powerful, but powerless, a Church .that disappears behind her. service, that is not self-regarding. And Mary is the absolutely positive model of this ChOrch. Here is also the place where we point to the silent and suffering Church and her fruitfulness in endurance. The silent Church has the deepest share in the Advent mystery of hope on this pilgrimage through time. Because she perseveres in patience, she bears much fruit. She brings forth her chil-dren after the model of the woman of the twelfth chapter of Apocalypse, in whom the ChurCh has always seen Mary: Mary not~ only as Mother of the incarnate Son of God but as "mother" in the universal sense: mother of many children whom she brings forth in pain. Mother and children are exposed to the Adversary, ~the' Evil One. Because he cannot touch the Son, and because he cannot destroy Mary and the .Church with his hatred; he 1falls upon the individual Christians--the "other childi'en" whom the "woman" brings forth. He makes war against them~ This war against the confessors and saints who "ke~p God's commandments and hold on to the testimony of Jesus Christ" (Rv 12, 17), has many faces: sub-human ones, inhuman ones, those Of the serpent, those of the dragon. The Adversary, the dragon, has been 'vanquished by Christ forever. That is why his last despairing efforts are still so powerful that "his tail wipes off one-third of the stars:from the sky" (Rv 12, 4). The power of evil does:not only reach the earth, it is capable of darken-ing the sky, since one-third of .the stars are swept away. It can extinguish hope, devour faith, and obscure love. This is a terrible possibility, and into this situation Mary--the Church--has been placed, into these eschatological sufferings for the world, a blind world without hope: Is this not th~ time for rKarl Rahner. Mary: Type "and Model of the Church ~/ 523 us .who are children of this Mother ;to support, today, in this hour the ".woman" giving birth, Mary--the Church--by trying "to. ,fulfill :the com-mandments of God and hold on to the testimony .of Jesus. Christ"? God's help does not exclude but includes the help of her children! .~This~help of God which ~sustains us is. also spoken of in the twelfth chapter of the Apocalypse. °God is near to the ,"woman," ,to Mary and the Church. He comes--he, is with her, protecting her in the midst of the battle. He,carries her on, the strong wings of his love. He prepares a place for her. Fiat mihi. This place is not one chosen by herself, in palaces and safe castles, but in the desert, in poverty~ in silence. There God is present. There he feeds her "for a time and two times and half a time." God feeds his Church. in every new today, so that she can continue to walk in .the strength of this food: on.the road that is her destiny. ~ All this:~ the battle, the endurance:of tribulation, the bringing forth of fruit in patience and suffering, the testimony held on to, the desert, biat also the 19ying protection of God who is our hope--all this is also demanded ot~ us and promised to us, who are the Church of today. . ¯ Mary and the (~hurch in Advent We have spoken of Mary as the type of the obedient, believing, hoping, Spirit-filled, praying Church. Like a luminous thread through this little meditation ran the thought: Mary on the way, on the road of hope and faith, on the move to encounter Elizabeth. Nowhere do we read that Mary's road was an easy one,. without obstacles or eclipses, without fears and hesi-tations. On this same pilgrim journey, the Church continues to travel, to meet the coming Lord, that great Advent which presupposes the first com-ing of God in the flesh, uniting the Alpha and Omega, beginning and end. He is the One who ever was and who is to come and who, hidden under the veils of his presence as he w~s hidden in Mary's womb, determines every present moment, including every moment of our own lives. He is there, Emmanuel, God with us and.for us, even though we are still on the way, in faith, as Mary was during her ~earthly pilgrimage. He is Emmanuel,' even tho~ugh'we are engaged in battle with the adversary, even should this battle 3~et grbw~fidrcer. The Loi'd walks, battles and stiflers with us, because he has made our battle~ ahd sufferirigs his own in a~ unique., way. He is~already the victor, carrying and protecting us, and he will always be with,us, On this road, the Lord takes Mary, the Church and each single one of us into his service: Our mission is to~ be witness and our witne~s is our mis-sion- no one i§ excluded. Everyone C'an and may and must.-.take ~art in the work of b~ingihg God to ~en, of making him present t9 men. The Christian has an Advent task. He is called to cooperate in kindling the hid-den longing for God which is in every man, just as it took place between Mary and "Elizabeth. Through human beings, through the Church, God wants to show his presence, and bring his joy into the darkness of our 524 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 prayer, our faith, and our hope. "God wants His own in joy.''8 And he wants his Church to proclaim the great joy, the good news, on the way. But we have to remember that joy is born from the obedience of the Fiat mihi, from a surrender that day after day commits itself anew to the unpre-dictable God, to his unfathomable and demanding will. It is a joy that does not ~o much look back at something that is complete and behind us but that looks forward and makes men raise their heads to look for the One to come. He conies in every "new today--in the midst of the desert of our times. But the Church--and that is all of us---can live this joy in obedience, in faith, in hope, in suffering and in praise only when she shakes off her for-getfulness and allows the Spirit."to remind her again of all things," in order to ponder and treasure the word of the Lord again in her heart. This alone will re-awaken in us Christians the longing for the final coming of Christ, and make us cry out again in the Spirit ahd in love: "Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus!" SAdrienne von Speyr. -o It should give woman a feeling of exaltation to know that she--particularly in the " virgin-mother Mary--is the privileged place where God can and wishes to be re-ceived in the world. Between the first Incarnation of the Word of God in Mary and its ever new arrival' in the receiving Church, there exists an inner continuity. This and only this is the decisive Christian event, and insofar as n~en are in the Church, they must participate--whether they have office or not--in this comprehensive femininity of the'-Marian Church. In Mary, the Church, the perfect Church, is already a reality, long before there is an apostolic office. The latter remains secondary and instrumental in its representation and, just because of the deficiency of those who hold office (Peter!), is so made that the grace transmitted remains unharmed by this defi-ciency. He who has an office must endeavor, as far as he can, to remove this defi-ciency, but not ~by approaching Christ ~as head of the Church, but by learning t6 express and live better the fiat that Mary addressed to God one and triune. Hans Urs von Balthasar ¯ L'Osservatore Romano, Feb. 24, 1977, p. 7. Chapter: A,Community's Call to Conversion Colette Rhoney, O.S.F. Sister Colette is involved in the ministry of prayer, spiritual direction and retreat work. She resides~at 1340 E. Delavan Ave.; Buffalo, NY 14215~ While examining the technical aspects of a chapter and ways of imple-menting its decisions, it is also necessary to examine the results of a com-mun. ity's chapter as lived by the individual members of the congregation. Father Conleth Overman, C.P., recently presented a thorough development of.chapters from the "imposition chapters through the .liberation chapters into the. planning chapters."' The lived experience of this development and the future involvement of members takes place in the on-going conversion of each individual sister. In order to implement the plans, the mission and the decisions of a chap-ter by. the.members of a community, these members must recognize that a call to conversion becomes part of the spiritual dynamics of the chapter. :This call to conversion remains through the months and years ~that follow a chapter in the daily death and rising of each member of the community. It becomes an essential element in the process of community life, making each member aware of her attitudes toward the community in general and toward members in particular. The summons to continued growth leads each one to examine her response to the Spirit who bids her grow. Basically, conversion is a change of heart and attitudesmit is taking on the 'mind and heart o~ Jesus Christ. Within the religious congregation, con-version lies in our openness to experience God's calling us forth through 1Conleth Overman, C.P., "Chapter--An Opportunity," Sisters Today, June-July 1976, pp. 651-655. 525 526 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1~977/4 ~ the power ~f the Spirit, to ~examine, as our foundresseS did, the life of Jesus and to find a modern response to his salvific ministry. The successful chap-ter is not one that ends with a written document, but one that leads to con-tinuol discernment and growth in personal conversion. The elements of this conversion would seem to be those of penance, healing, reconciliation, and confirmation. Penance Penance fundamentally involves the grace of change, and so also do most new constitutions formulated by a community's chapter. Penance 'is centered in conversion, in metanoia, an admitting one's own sinfulness before God, self, and neighbor. It is a turning to God and self and neigh-bor in a serious attempt to grow in the knowledge, love and will of God. The grace of a new-found trust in God's fidelity amid our own infidelity leads us to an openness before the Spirit. This openness graces us with the desire and courage to surrender to the voice of the Spirit as expressed in the documents of the chapter. Metanoia is continual, a constant, thorough, on-going, despite the human weakness which We all carry with us. ~The belief, in hope, that God-with-us can do marvelous deeds, impo~sibie ones, moves us on even in the midst of our woundedness. Healing Those who have experienced the"healing p0~,er'that is possible anibng chapter members who have been gifted by.grace and trutti in the S~irit, the community and each other-~can bring themselveg" to believe and to work for the healing Of the whole community. The day~ ankl w(eks follow-ing a chapter are seeded with opportunities for th~ healing of memories, of personal and comhaunal hurts sustained during the long hours of debate, dialogue, and discussion. There is a time for everything; and"the period immediately after chapter seems to be an appropriate time for the healing of the mistrusts and mistakes made in the process Of chapter, i3od's saving action in our lives heals our wounds through Jesus--=and calls us forth to minister'a like healing to one another. Redonciliation Before we can know the power of recc~nciliation we must pe~:~onally experience the forgiveness of God. /~fter positioning' ourselves wiih the prodigal son or his jealous older brother, we turn back' to our loving Fatl~er who longs for our return. Our weakness and failures do not discourage him from stretching forth to eml~race us, to welcome us b~ick and to~ cele-brate the occasion with the entire household. The forgiving Francis of Assisi words it this way for his followers: There should be no friar in the whole world who has fallen into sin, nb matter how far he has fallen, who will ever fail to find your forgiveness for Chapter." ,4 Call. (o Conversion /o 527 the asking, if he will only look into your eyes. And if he does not ask forgive-hess, you should ask him if he wants it. And should he appear before you again a thousand times, you should love him more than you love me, so that you may draw him to God.z The sacrament of forgiveness, of healing, of reconciliation takes flesh as we offer ourselves to the power of God's Spirit and one another. The "grace" of our own self-righteousness must die before we can gift another with new birth in reconciliation. What succeeds from any chapter proposals for the building up of the kingdom will be rooted in the spirit of forgiveness among the members. As this forgiveness and reconciliation takes hold, the members of the community can extend this Good News to other members of the kingdom. Confirmation Perhaps the success or failure of a community chapter can be determined by the conversion of its members. The signs within the community that the ~vord and action of the "Spirited" chapter are still, alive would seem to be the lived forms of these document-words uttered in ,the lives and ministries of the members. The decrees of a chapter wi.ll not be understood completely or effected immediately. However, the on-going affirmation of its statements _i_s a sign of confirmation by the Spirit of Truth. ,The signs of the individual sister who is graced in the decisions and odocuments of her community's chapter will be an increased faith in her vocational call, the harmony pf her own being and the courage and determination to live out the written word. Conclusion As each of us enters into chapter planning,or emerges f~rom the process involved in the search for the new direction of religious life, let us be en-couraged by Jesus' words: . . . the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the F~ther will send in my name, will teach you everything and remind you of alibi have said to you. Peace I bequeath to you, my own, peace I give you, a peace the world cannot give, this is my gift to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid (Jn 14:2.6-27). -°"Letter to a Minister" in English Omnibus Edition o] the Sources (Chicago: Fran-ciscan Herald Press), p. 110. " Contemplation Vera Gallagher, R.G.S. Sister Vera's work is described in her article. She resides at Christ the King Convent; 11544 Phinney Ave., N.; Seattle, WA 98133. I was fifteen when I.decided suddenly, totally, to join a contemplative religious order, God's call 'was clear, if abrupt, and I responded~ whole-heartedly. My parents, however, were unwilling to consent to either the Carmelites or Poor Clares, my first choices. Because I was equally reluctant to wait until I was eighteen, we compromised. They agreed to the Sisters of Charity of the Refuge, then a cloistered, contemplative order devoted to serving and rehabilitating delinquent teenage girls. ,~ Always protected, I knew nothing of delinquency. But, having read widely the books in my parents' bookcases, I knew a great deal about prayer. And into that I threw myself. Between meditation, Mass, Office and reading we devoted about three and a-half hours daily to prayer. I gobbled that up. Sundays were free, so I turned to six or seven hours of prayer then. While I was a second-year novice, our isolated convent in Vancouver, B.C., joined the Good Shepherd Order--world-wide, devoted to the same work, and with the same emphasis on prayer. For six weeks I was sent to a Good Shepherd novitiate in Minnesota, and then became professed. Shortly, I found myself teaching in our special education schools (spe-cial, not because our girls were retarded but because they had missed so much school), then sent to college, then appointed principal. So I wandered, principal of our schools, from Minnesota to Washing-ton to Montana to Nebraska to Colorado; back to Montana, and Minne-sota, and Nebraska. All the time, while I willingly served wherever God 528 Contemplation / 529 called, I lived a split-level life: level 1, being principal; level~2, being a con-templative. What hours I could beg, borrow, or steal were unceasingly devoted to prayer, my primary calling and delight. Over and. over, I asked God why he so clearly summoned me to contemplation and so obviously assigned me to administration: He did not reply. ~ Finally, when state and child-care agencies' rulings came to the point that religion, of whatever denomination, could no longer be freely taught and promoted, and when my order had meantime emerged into one no longer cloistered, no longer primarily contemplative, but apostolic, I re-quested a change of work: from education into pastoral ministry. Forthwith, I was engaged by a medium-sized church in Seattle. Here for three and ~a half years I have rediscovered and---finally--integrated my vocation as contemplative and apostle. Lilurgy In the convent, we had observed the church year but, somehow, it had usually passed me by. When I joined, as staff.,person, our Liturgy Commit-tee and discovered lay people studying the gospels, creatively designing methods of changing background, music, space to emphasize each mood of the liturgy, really living, in mind and spirit, every aspect of worship to make it compellingly clear to the congregation, I burst alive to the wonder, grandeur, simplicity, lowliness of the worship of the Lord. Personal prayer had meant too much for me to have become aware of the ever-chan~ing, challenging worship of the Church. Now that same liturgy, parish-celebrated, summons me to a. communal meal of adoration, love, and thanksgiving wherein each of us enriches the other by his/her gifts of insight and prayer, and all of us complete each day of living worship more attuned to God because we know our neighbor better, while all the adjunEts to worship which we have designed emphasize, in color and shape and texture, kaleido-scopic stories of God's relationships with his people. Home Visiting Most nights I am out visiting families throughout our widely scattered parish. Generally, these visits are devoted to pastoral counseling, spiritual direction, theological up-dating, accordir~g to the various requests and desires of those whom I visit. Simply and easily, as we chat together, people often share with me their experiences of God. Coming from men and women I know, in the simplest of everyday language, those descriptions of personal encounters with God leave me so silently breathless that I feel as .though I ought to be kneeling. There is the man who drank a fifth a day, smoked heavily, lived with little regard for God's law---but whose wife prayed for him unceasingly. One day, in total self-disgust, he turned to God and his wife in heart-broken sorrow. Such an overwhelming visitation by God was granted him that he 530 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 never as much as desired alc6hol or cigarettes again. Because he was so overpowered by gr~ice, he quit work for two years to pray, ponder, meditate, absorb the wianders he had seen. When I came to his apartment, Bob's greatest, desire was for an in-depth discussion of the~ works of St: John of the Cross. He had read, comprehended and loved every word in the saint's writings. He quoted them to me easily, expounding on their beauty. And I --- I felt like a child listening to a master of the contemplative dire. .There are Richard and Nancy, a young married couple who,have taken private vows of poverty, chastity and obedience to free themselves for con-templation. Their .lives are totally regulated by their need for prayer, Each works half-time, earning only enough for a simple life,~giving away anything in excess. They rise very early in the morning for their first hour of prayer together, meditating daily for a total of three hours. Their love for Scrip-ture is so great that they have memorized whole chapters, setting them to music. Their sights are so irrevocably, irresistably fixed on God that they see nothing unusual about so living. Naturally enough, their parish commit-ment is to the St. Vincent de Paul Society. I could' write story after story, each thrilling, . about parishioners who, through the ~scintillating brilliance of everyday living in closest harmony with the Eternal, direct the onlooker, like the whirling lights of a police car, straight to God. Pastor Very few diocesan priests have ever been canonized. I used to believe this was because of a life which, de facto, militated against sanctity. I have discovered the reverse: lives so simply and poorly dedicated to Jesus that no association or congregation has been built up to study the individual, obscure life, promote tit, pay, for its publicity, push it through to canoniza-tion. In our parish we have team ministry: the staff consists of one priest, three sisters, two deacons and one deacon's wife on a volunteer basis, and one single young man. All decisions are reached by consensus. No one per-son leads, directs or governs. In this situation, the pastor could be lost. Our pastor lives his very busy, very undistinguished life according to one principle: what"would Jesus do? His consequent devotion to poverty, love, service, compassion, understanding is such that I watch him to see Jesus incarnated again. I remember my first Christmas in the parish. Father '~X" brought me to the :tree in the rectory, surrounded by gifts. "These are my Christmas presents," he said. "Take whatever you wish." Then he handed me an en-velope full of bills--half of the money given him for Christmas; the other half he gave to another sister. That was my first introduction to the stark poverty of Father "X's" life. He has no savings account. He uses his salary primarily to give it away to whichever person asks for it first. His days off and vacations are simple, ¯ Contemplation / 531 usually spent with other priests. He shares his rectory with whoever comes along: currently two priests are resident; the young youth minister and the male head of the liturgy committee live there; whatever man is unfortunate, poor, in need of an overnight accommodation gets the one room which is left. In ,that last room I have discovered a poor black family passing through town; a .veteran with amnesia waiting for an opening in vet's hospital; a disturbed man with a knife.under his pillow awaiting transportation to Cafiada; a chef wit.hout .a job, and many others. Finally, in the housekeeper's apartment in the rectory, lives a talented drummer Father "X" picked up off the streets, homeless, hooked on drugs and alcohol, hungry. Totally re-habilitated now, he does his own thing from the rectory, and will, until he feels safe enough to move out on his own. Naturally enough, the rectory has become everybody's home. Father "X" owns nothing which he does not share. The parish drops in, commit-tees meet, people come for appointments, and all of us learn that the parish is more than a church: it is a radius of sharing love--a koinonia--a dia-konia-- a drop-in center--a haven for all in need. ~ The words of~ Script:ure are inspiring. But meditating and praying over them has not ,compelled' me to follow Jesus as forcefully as has the life of a diocesan priest devoted to making .that Scripture alive--today, now. Preaching About every six weeks I preach on weekends. What I have learned thereby would fill an encyclopedia. To compress the messages of the readings of the Sunday into a ten-minute homily means that those readings must be meditated over, pon-dered, searched, re-searched until they become a light glowing in my mind. So brightly incandescent does that one word become, after the hours of contemplative prayer devoted to it, that neither writing it down nor memo-rizing it is.necessary. Also, I need stories, everyday tales, to illuminate the gospel of. yesteryear into the imper~ative of today. So I reach back through my life, or into the stories of their lives which parishioners have shared with me, or into the happenings of this particular calendar month of 1977. And in so doing, I discover how truly each occurrence of everyday an-nounces, again, the coming of God's kingdom, the incarnation of his Son. I discover, too, that in nothing have I ever been alone: those experiences I tfi~ought to have been most personal, most private, most singular become, when shared in the light of the gospel, the most universal experiences of my congregation, the ones they tell me they know and have lived. I ha.ve learned that nothing should be hidden because God is alive in all--writing straight with crooked lines--so that the whole world with its sins, its sorrows and its shortcomings--and its soarings--becomes one sung paean of praise to the Almighty. Translating that song into simplicity is the task of the preacher. ' 53:2 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 Fasting Often throughout my life I have heard God's call to fast, and almost as often shuddered and said "no," hurrying on my way. One Sunday in the parish, three different persons told me that they were leaving the Church because of their problems with the institutional Church. I was stunned. In our parish we have, I thought, everything: a priestly priest, excellent liturgies, first-rate music, good preaching, a devoted community. What else could we offer? And three parishioners were still leaving the Church! I prayed for enlightenment as to ways to help~for I knew both the men and the young woman very well. Clearly I heard the words: "This kind of devil goes not out but by prayer and fasting." Those words left me with no alternative: pray, I would; fast, I must. For four months I fasted. Meantime, one man and the young woman not only came back to the parish, but became deeply involved in parish activities--much more so than usual, The third young man had dropped out of my sight. I continued to fast and to pray, a bit hopelessly. Th6n, one night, as I stood in the convent of a distant parish, Rob walked to the door: We looked at each other, and embraced. He had come, he told me, for a meeting of youth ministry in the parish: he intended to get involved; and he said that he had joined the choir. "I searched for something better than the Church," he said, "but I couldn't find it." That convinced me of the value of fasting in the service of the Church. Now I frequently fast: a week here, a week there; now a month; then two. Fasting brings me closer to God in prayer, but without the real-life motiva-tion of the parish, I would not persevere in it. Ecumenism Eight Protestant and two Catholic churches, one of which is ours, cooperate in our neighborhood. The ministers of the churches meet twice monthly, the laity meet once a month. As soon as I was engaged for work, Father "X" involved me in CHOICE ("Churches Involved in Common Effort"). The first really important happening was our ministers' decision to keep a prayer diary, meet weekly, and share. For me, the decision was no less than terrifying; prayer had always been very personal, very private to me. However, my curiosity as to how Protestant mirdsters prayed was so great that I consented to go along. We continued for one year. I discovered many things: foremost, perhaps, my realization that not only were Protestant ministers comprehending of contemplation, they also lived rich and variegated prayer lives of their own. I discovered a pyramid of errors in my past concepts of Protestant ministers: Contemplation / 533 Celibacy is not absolutely essential to the developm'ent of a rich prayer life. ¯ The gospels apply to all persons of whatever denomination; within them, God lives for all. God reveals himself to whoever wholeheartedly searches. Protestants, by their eagerness and uprightness, can challenge Catholics. .Catholicism does not have an edge on the ecclesiastical market: I learned to share my prayer, my closeness to God, my silences in his presence, my ecstasies in the love of his sheltering arms, and to feel myself totally accepted and understood in what I would formerly have considered an.inappropriate company: a circle of Protestant ministers! That experience has been one of the most important, most radical in my life. It lifted me suddenly and freed me from the parochialism in which I had been reared. In many ways the CHOICE churches have cooperated to make God better known, more real, better served in our area and neighborhood. All of. this I have found enriching to our congregations, as well as truth-reveal-ing to me. God is found in truth, not in error. We must reach out, beyond ourselves, to discover where those unknown errors lie. Social Justice When I was less wise, I attended some social justice workshops at a large university and came back, I thought, permeated with an urgency 'for social justice in the world. I preached a couple of sermons on the subject and was disappointed to discover that my congregation was not totally with me. Figuring that I must be, in some way, stumbling about in wrong turns, I decided to let the matter drop for the time being. Then I discovered a group of parishioners who wanted to form a social justice committee, another grouWwhodesired to organize for Bread for the World, a third who wanted to create a St. Vincent de Paul Society to care for the poor, the hungry, the frightened, the homeless, especially in the area contiguous to our parish. I assisted each group in its formation, and met with them. There I discovered hard-headed; practical Christians who cared about the hungry homeless men and women next door, in preference to those a continent away to whom they were not sure they could get bed and ~board. Meantime, I discovered that our parishioners were ready to pour money into the St. Vincent de Paul Society when they knew it was immediately transferred into relief for the very poor; they were delighted to contribute food to a neighboring parish in the Central Area for its Food Bank; they were eager to organize to provide legislatively for the food needs and ap-propriate distribution centers with adequate safeguards for the hungry of the world,, They had been turned off by sermons~which revealed to them a naivete and lack of pragmatism inherited by me from Academe. "534 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 , Because money, efforts, work flowed freely to the really poor, I found myself involved with the impoverished. The ideals of social justice and the thundering of. Isaiah had sounded out like trumpet calls, but dealing with the querul.ousness, and the unrealistic, improvident needs of the poor, first-hand, became a different and much, more challenging matter--one which I would gladly., have ducked. But Jesus lives hidden in the difficulties, de-mandings, despotisms of the poor; and, with the aid of our laity who give of their time without counting, I have found him there. I must admit it: it was easier, more pleasant, more justifying to h~ave discovered God in. social justice workshops on broad grassy campuses among .nice people ~dressed in clean clothes than among the very poor, improperly dressed, poorly housed, querulous, and sometimes "ungrateful" impoverished. Contemplation Finally, this article closes where it began: with the quest for contempla-tion. Contemplation is not, as once I thought it was, a way of prayer, Contem-plation is a way of fife. Truly, in embracing .a religious life devoted to cloister and to .prayer, I chose a life-style immediately preparatory of contemplation. I had not, how-ever, counted on the life-style changing radically from one of cloister ~0 one of intense apostolic activity in interaction with the ,world. When that hap-pened, I scarcely knew which way to turn. Now, I realize, it didn't even matter, God lives, in the world. God created that world, and made of it his' own cloister. The more we know and interact with God's world, provided we. keep aware of what, in fact, we are about, the more imbued with God we be-come. On silver trumpets, my parish has called forth the name of God from every cornet wherein I have sought him and his people, and from other corners into which, unseeingly, and unknowingly, Ihave wandered. J I have found God vibrantly alive in people's homes; on the deserted city streets which I may be walking at midnight; in ch6i'ch; in poverty; in fasting as well as in restaurants; in priest and in people; in the hitchhikers I have picked up; in the cold, wet weather and the .Seattle sun; in the puddles I have plodded through and on the dry, comfortable kneelers in church; in the pants I wear,to keep warm and in the skirts I adopt to look good; in the faces of parishioners and in the stranger's' smile I meet at an intersection when-we bump into each other and apologize; in Protestant ministers and in Catholic laity. ' God encompasses me. He attends my lying down°and my getting up. His shadow cools me in the day and ~warms me at night. He guards my "waking hours and my broken dreams. He loves me alone in the midst of crowds. God is my be-all and end-all; he is my life. And that, I think, is contemplation. I have reached it, at last. Prayer and Freedom of the Spirit Maria Edwards, R.S.M. Sister Maria is Secondary Rdigious Educ'ation CoOrdinator ,for the diocese of Nash-ville. Her last article in these pages appeared in the July, 1976, issue. ,Her office is located in the Catholic Center;. 24~00 21st Ave. S.; N~shville, TN 37212. One day Jesus stood up in the synagogue and read the~following passage from Isaiah: "TheSpirit of the Lord has been given to me;°for he'~has anointed me. He has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to proclai~m freedom to captives, and new sight to the blind, to set all captives free, and to proclaim the Lord's year of favor" (Lk 4:17-19). As ~eligious are we able to affirm the statement that the Spirit of the Lord has .been given to and accepted by us; are we certain that he has anointed us and called us his own? The more certain we are of his love and his presen~e~ the clearer do we hear his invitation to. proclaim .the good news, to be his special ministerg,'to be his disciples. As we allow the.Spirit room to move in our lives, we begin to feels, the urgency to help others to be more aware and more open to the working of the Spirit. within them. People are yearning to hear that this is the year of the Lord's favor for them, that now is the day of salvation. Prayer is our proclamation that Jesus is risen and is living, among us--that he not. only exists but that he is present and alive in all who believe in him. Prayer is our expression of hope in times that to many ~people seem hopeless. It is our conviction ,of faith, lived in'a world that seeks proof for everything. It is our experience of love reaching out and touching persons who are the abandoned, the forgotten;° the bitter, the disappointed, the poor, the disgruntled, the spiritually blind. Prayer is freedom! It is life lived in the fullest manner, for through, prayer we are healed and set free again and again. We are con-stantly being formed into new creations, into the very image of God, How many of us have been set free by the love of the Lord and then 535 536 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 have allowed ourselves to be bound up again? How many of us are like Lazarus waiting for Jesus to call us forth again from the tomb of our own selfishness, our own complacence, our own indifference to a world that needs our help in order to be set free? How many of us are still bound up by our past lives, our past experiences, experiences which may have hurt us so deeply that we have vowed never to open ourselves to love again for' fear of being crushed again in the process? How many of us have wrapped our-selves up in our own burial cloths and have settled down for a long, slow, comfortable death? To live as Christians in complete freedom demands too much effort, too much dying to selfishness. "If today you hear my voice, harden not your hearts." In God's eyes it is never too late to begin again. He wants us free to love and be loved. Will we give the Spirit full reign in our hearts and lives? Are we willing to risk being a part of what we pray for: peace, love, joy, hope, freedom? Are we ready to take responsibility for our prayer, no matter what the cost? Can we honestly place our lives freely and unreservedly in God's hands? If we refuse to take the risk with Jesus, our prayer will become a selfish enslavement rather than a real liberation in the Spirit. "For freedom Christ has set us free; remain free therefore, and do not submit again to the slavery of sin . . . for you were called to freedom, brothers, but do not use your freedom to do. wrong, but use it to love and serve each other as the Holy Spirit directs . If you are living by the Spirit's power, then you will follow the Spirit's leadings in every part of your liv.es" (Ga 5: l ; 13; 25). What Is Freedom? Freedom is being open to new awarenesses of who we are, who God is, and what life is and holds. Persons who are truly free are persons who are able to live in faith. They are in touch with, and willing to share their weak-nesses as well as their strengths; they are able to grow with the pain as well as with the good times. Since they are people of faith, people who believe in the now, they are also people of hope, people who believe in the tomor-row. They admit that they do not have all the answers, that they do not possess all the truth, and this very admission sets them free to grow in the spiritual life. ,. Definitions or descriptions of freedom are as varied as the persons en-deavoring to explain them. But to Jesus "freedom" meant everything. It meant his very life. "I have come that they might have life and have it to the full" (Jn 10:10). He came to free the captives. He never forced freedom on anyone; he generously offered it to everyone. With his life, death, and resurrection he freed us all from sin and guilt, anxiety and fear. Are we daily allowing him to heal and free us in prayer--from loneliness, a sense of rejection, lack of self-respect, narrow-mindedness? How difficult it often is for us to choose life over death! "I have set before you life and death, Prayer and Freedom of the Spirit / 537 the blessing and the curse. Choose life, then, that you and your descendents may live by loving the Lord. " (Dt 30: 19). Jesus daily reminds us that he is the way, the truth and the life as he gently calls us to follow him. God is infinitely patient as he waits for his people.to make choices. He is in-finitely patient as he waits for his chosen people to choose him. The type of freedom that the Lord offers us is so special that no indi-vidual or group can take it from us. It is essentially an inner 'attitude, a whole orientation toward life that is deeply implanted within those who believe. The well-known Austrian psychiatrist, Viktor Frahkl has written about this type of freedom from his own experience in his book Man~s Search for Mbaning.1 During the horrible years spent in a concentration camp in World War II, he often meditated on the meaning of freedom in his ~own life. Everything was taken from the prisoners---family, possessions, status, and identity itself (they were known as numbers). But after months and years in such an environment he was able to say that everything can be robbed of a man but one thing, the greatest of human freedoms: to choose one's own attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own life, one's own way. In the midst of his suffering, God and prayer became living realities to Frankl. It was the "freedom to be" that prayer gave to Frankl. He was a prisoner on the outside, but a free man on the inside. No person, no torture, no enticement could motivate him to give up his God-given freedom. Many people have the tendency to think that the two words, "motivation" and "causation," have the same meaning, but that is not true. No one can cause us .to be or do what we do not wish; people can only motivate. There are some religious who state that their bitterness or lack of interest is caused by hurts that they have received in the past. If they are bitter it is because they have chosen bitterness; they have chosen not to forgive and forget; they have chosen not to be healed and set free. This may seem a hard saying but after reading Frankl~s life it seems more evident than ever. No one is to blame for our lack of freedom but us ourselves. We can never anticipate what we might do in any given circumstance of the future, but we can make prayer such a part of our very .being that we can always be assured of being able to pray, and hopefully we will always have the courage to pray. It is this quality of courage, this growing awareness of our constant need to, pray,, that enables us to be listeners to and followers of the Spirit, to step into the uncertainty of the darkness knowing that God's presence is ever with us. The more we pray the more certain of his presence we become. Doubts will never cease to drift into our lives, but doubts give rise to the opportunities we need to choose the Lord: It might be well to remember that the Lord wants to be chosen, that he does not wish to be taken for granted in our lives. 1New York: Washington Square Press, 1959. 5311 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 Freedomand Commitment W~hen talking about freedom in a Christian ~context, by necessity the aspect of commitment must be touched upon. Some of the major crises in our .lives and in our times occur because of lack of meaning, lack of purpose, lack of hope, and especially lack of love on the part of individuals and of groups. If' we are living as committed Christian religious we should be filled with purpose, with meaning, with love. Commitment implies total giving of self on a. daily basis; it implies new discoveries of faith and love. Each of us has, forfeited certain freedoms in preference for a particular freedom-- Jesus Christ himself. We have chosen a definite life-style, we have chosen a vowed life. .In :searching the gospels there is one thing we can be certain of: Jesus wants committed followers. He never minced any words on the subject: "He who is noLwith me is against me, and he who does not ~gather with"me scatters" (Mt 12:30). Either we receive these words with joy or we live our lives as religious in misery. All the~.rationalization in the world cannot blot out the bold pass, age: "How I wish you were one or the.other--hot or cold! But because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will spew you out of my mouth!" (Rev 3: 15-16). He asks us to make a choice daily, either be hot or cold~ but for God's sake make a choice. Are we setting any captives free; are we allowing others who love us to set us free; are we feeding ~any poor people; do ~we have something and Someone to give to the spiritually blind; are we signs, of faith and hope to the people.with whom we live and the people we endeavor to serve? We must not wait until, we are "perfect" before we begin to live out the gospel message. We must try to live the gospel message even in our profound weak-ness and°then we will be on the road to perfection!: How many minutes a day do we spend reading and praying over the Word of God; how ~any minutes a day do we spend living it out? .How many minutes a day do we spend growing closer to the One with whom we will live for all eternity? God needs our commitment; God so needs :our lives. The whole history., of God's chosen ones is the story of a people claim-ing to have responded fully to God's words to follow him in freedom, while in, actuality most were too bound up in their own sicknegs and powerless-ness to let the Lord, call them forth and free them. But Jesus° makes the process "too" simple: "Give up all that you have and come follow me!" What a risk that kind of freedom involves. It seems so frightening and yet all we have to do is to, let ourselves be filled .with God, to empty ourselves in prayer, so that .he can fill us with himself. Prayer can lead us to total commitment; prayer can free us sothat we can continually make total commitment~ As religious we need one another to support us in our choices, in our prayer and in our commitment. Although our lives as religious do not depend solely on whether or not those around us live in a Christian way, Pr~ayer and Freedom~o]~ the Spir!ti~ / 539:. we have to admit that living with those persons who are kind, loving, and service-oriented naturally encourages us to be and do likewise. The Lord told us to form community, to carry one another's burdens freely. We must nev.er give up trying to make Jesus the center of our community life. We may be "a voice crying in the desert" but if we cease to cry we may soon cease to care. The cry says that we need one another; the cry says that we are almost dying on the inside and we want to live again'; the cry says that we have not yet arrived. "If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free" (Jn 8:31-32). To be free, then, is really to be able to follow our quest for the truth, to be able to fulfill our potential for spiritual growth. Conclusion Prayer is our witness to an unbelieving world that the Lord is present and living within us. Prayer opens us up to choose freely God and life over nothingness and death. We must .decide in what ways' we are bound, in what ways we.need to be set free. We must believe'that God loved us so much that he sent his Son to take on our flesh and our weakness in order that we might be led to freedom in the Spirit. The Lord wants his religious to be free. In his eyes each a~ad every living person is special and beloved. As religious we should know this even though others do inot .know of their specialness. In prayer each day let us hand over to the Lord all '.of our fears, our dreams, our burdens, our insecurities, our hopelessness, and even our faithlessness, If we want to be free we can The,.Lord not .only accepts us and loves us unconditionally, but he gives us the~freedom to choose to be changed. This change begins the moment we say~a total yes to.him and allow him to set us free in the Spirit. Off COmmitment to the Poor Gerald R. Grosh, S.J. Father Grosh, in addition to teaching theology at Xavier University (Cincinnati), also gives retreats and resides at the Jesuit Renewal Center; P.O. Box 289; Milford, OH 45150. We live in a divided society. We live in a society in which the clamor of the oppressed rings forth to all people to struggle, for love and justice and peace in our world. The poor, especially those in the Third World, cry out that they cannot live as human beings, that they have no sense of their own value as persons, because the structures of society keep them from feeling their own dignity. Many men do not earn enough to provide the basic necessities for wife and family. Many do not receive an honest day's pay. Often the system is such that a man cannot even get a job; or, if he does get one, it is only through political favoritism and not on his own merit as a man and a worker. Today the poor are crying out that they are op-pressed by the system--political, social, economic, and cultural--and thus are robbed of their dignity as human persons. As religious we have a choice, just as all people have a choice in the face of this reality. We can shut our ears and refuse to hear, we can close our eyes and refuse to see the misery and suffering of the poor. Or we can let this reality sink in. "The poor we have always with us"; but today men and women are shouting that this poverty is unnecessary, that it is the result of the evil and greed of men---even of so-called "committed Christians." The poor and the hungry throughout the world are calling for brother-hood, freedom, justice, love and sharing. These are the values of the kingdom which Christ preached. Meditation on the gospels reveals Jesu.s as a man of love, as a man who entered into our situati0n--the human situation, the concrete situation of the people of his time. He, too, lived in a divided society; and in this divided society he drew close to those who were weak and oppressed. He challenged those who were: the organizers 540 On Commitment to the Poor / 541 within this society; he preached the kingdom. He preached the reconcilia-tion of man; he effected justice. The values of his kingdom were brother-hood, freedom, justice, 10ve and sharing; and in order to realize these goals he found himself in conflict---especially in conflict with money, honor and power. If a religious is one who espouses the values of Christ's kingdom he must espouse brotherhood, freedom, justice, love and sharing. Like Christ, he too must draw near to the poor, the weak, the oppressed. And it is impor-tant for him to reflect on why he commits himself to the poor. There are many possible reasons: ideological, political, reasons arising from sadness because of the sufferings of the poor or from guilt because of the injustice they suffer. As religious, our primary motivation is simply Christ and the desire to announce Christ and his kingdom. We believe in the values which Christ preached. Jesus committed himself to the poor and the oppressed. The ~call to religious today, as well as to all Christians, is to follow Christ, doing in our day what he did in his, that is, doing justice and effecting reconciliation. Frankly, some of us do not want to do this because we are too attached to the comfortable life-style in which we now live. Others are afraid to abandon the security that the system provides them. For these people, a conversion is necessary--a conversion which depends on the Lord's grace. But there are also many religious who do see the need for commitment to the poor, though they are confused as to how they might respond. Many are using their talents in important work, and they are so overwhelmed and overworked that they find little time to reflect on or to act on a commitment to the poor. The question before them is how the way in which they lead their lives can reflect a genuine concern for the poor. The present article will attempt to offer these religious some concrete suggestions as to how they might commit themselves to the poor. Becoming ln]ormed ~ If we are really to help the poor, we must know their needs. We must hear the national and international cries of the poor and oppressed. We must know how the);" want to be helped, rather than how we think they want to be helped. First,hand experience, wit_h the poor will clarify our perspective a great deal. But many of ~us are very busy people and our present commitments m~y not allow much time for this. Most cannot do first-hand investigating. That means we have to choose to whom we are going to listen. As we filter the information we receive, we must always keep in mind what truly beriefits the poor, what helps them grow and respect themselves as persons. Personal Contact We are incarnate people; our physical presence has Significance. The poor suffer from a lack of dignity. They cannot choose where they live; 54~2 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 perhaps we can. When some of us religious choose to live in their neighbor-hood, they can gain anew respect for themselves. Yet not all can or should live among the poor. Living among the poor depends on a personal call.and on the different, psychological drives of each person. Furthermore, the ghetto life is already overcrowded; we don't need thousands of people suddenly pouring themselves into homes in the ghetto, though it is obvious that each one of us needs some material contact and sharing in the lives of the poor if we are really to enter into their world and commit ourselves to them and to their struggles. Contemplating th~ Lives o[ the Poor One's stance before the poor should be contemplative--that is, one has to listen, and to listen long. We come from our own cultural and economic backgrounds through which we have accepted many blind biases. We.have to listen long to the poor to discover their values and ways of looking at things, thus destroying our own ideological blocks and preconceived notions. As we listen, we shall discover some values that are quite attractive: simplicity, joy, hospitality, and sharing. We shall also discover their in-security. Their insecurity is not an experience that we can ever enter into fully. We cannot live their insecurity, their closed horizons, their closed present; we can never really lose our status. But we can enter into the way that they try to deal with their insecurity. We can enter into the security that they .can have in material work and in brotherhood in the Lord. We can recognize in their values the presence and action of the Lord in their lives and we can respond, to this in faith. As we contemplate their suffering and pain, we may also discover some attitudes which are very different from our own, attitudes with ~egard to sex, for instance, or violence, or deceit, or the struggle between classes. We need to listen long to understand what their attitudes are really saying. For example, a poor person may try to manipulate you or deceive you in the hope of getting some material gain or economic help. We Can judge this out of our own moral system, applying to it the valu~ that we put on honesty an'd truth, on honest communication. Such a judgment may be perfectly sound according to our own biases and cultural values. But it fails to take into account the real, lived situation in which the poor person exists, a situation that we have never really experienced. If we enter into the world of the poor man, we may discover that what~he is really saying is that h,~is situation is so bad, that the system is so destructive of who he is, that he desperately needs this economic help and will go to any length to get it. Contemplation does not mean a blind acceptance of what the poor say or what they ask for; but it does mean that we really try to listen to them, tO see where they are coming from, and to understand what their experience is. We try to judge their actions and,our response from the gospel: what.helps the poor man to be more a person? On Commitment to the Poor / 543 Questioning Our Own Lives From the Experience of the Poor It is not just simply a presence among the poor or a contemplation of their lives and their values to which we are called. We are called also to look at ourselves and the lives we lead in comparison with the lives and experi-ences of the poor. We need to enter into the suffering that they experience because of the system--the political, social and economic system of our times. Thus it is fruitful to experience the frustrations that the poor endure as a matter of course. Try to experience dealing with the power structures without, using "cc~nnections," and get the same run-around that the poor receive. Travel by bus not in order to save money, but simply because this is the experience that the poor have; Such experiences might enable a per-son to question his life more fully in the light of the experience of the poor. We must be rea

Issue 65.1 of the Review for Religious, 2006. ; Inspiration The Spirit QUARTERLY ~ 2006 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about tb~ holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis Universit3£ by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Mail: review@slu.edu .° \¥eh site: *~,w.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° Pontifical College Josephinuln 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2006 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific lihrarv clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. view for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff VVebmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Clare Boehmer ASC Stephen Erspamer OSB Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and A~. gela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 65.1 2006 contents prisms 4 Prisms context American Catholicism's Chaos-- and Its Future Richard Gribble CSC reviews the present situation of the post-Vatican II era of American Catholicism through an analysis of contemporary authors while providing hope for the future. 21 23 3O challenges 0 Religious Life in the Third World-- a Shangri-La? Anthony Malaviaratchi CSSR paints a rather sobering picture of the difficulties involved in discerning a vocation for third-world candidates and in superiors' exercise of leadership. Personal Reflection Questions and Group Discussion Propositions Challenges for Communities' New Members Guire Cleary SSF sets out some of the challenges experi-enced by new members of religious communities, drawing on his own experiences and observations and on personal histories from other new religious. Review for Religious inspiration 43 A Spirituality of Surrender--A Jesuit's Story Rosemary Stets OSF shares with us the making of a prayer of surrender from her conversation with and the living example of the Jesuit Walter J. Ciszek. 48 57 Two Mysteries in One: Implications for Ministry Giovanni Zevola OMI delves into the meaning of the Annunciation and the Visitation to find there the richness of theology and pastoral care, encountering each other in pastoral experience. Truth: Religious Simplicity Revisited Robert P. Maloney CM focuses on Vincent de Paul's choice of simplicity as "being in the truth" with God, with oneself, with others, and with the created universe; He then discusses some of the dilemmas involved in combining the simplicity of the dove with the prudence of the serpent. Prayer Reflection and Group Discussion 7O Sharing God the Ignatian Way David L. Fleming SJ indicates how Ignatian spirituality affects the ways we understand and relate to God. Personal Reflection and Group Discussion 76 the spirit Led by the Spirit: St. Patrick Andrew Ryder SCJ views the working of the Holy Spirit in the life and missionary activity of St. Patrick from his own witness given in his Confession. departments 92 Scripture Scope: The suffering of Jesus ~ 96 Canonical Counsel: Chapters and Other Meetings 102 Book Reviews 65.1 2006 4 ~hen was the last time that we felt that we were making a flesh start? Maybe it was a flesh start in our getting regular exercise. Perhaps it was a fresh start that we needed in establishing a better relationship with a co-worker or a relative. Or it might be the flesh start we need in working on our spiritual or church life. We hear and are well aware of the bromides like "That's the way it has always been done" or "We always do it that way." It seems that there is nothing more deadening than a routine life, a life of frozen patterns. Yet it is normal, even necessary, that we estab-lish patterns in our everyday living. For exam-ple, for good health we are encouraged to keep to a pattern of sleeping hours. It is usually helpful for us to establish patterns for our personal prayer, or else we begin to find ourselves too busy to take time to pray. We as a church are always calling ourselves to start afresh. That is a purpose of church sea-sons. We have recently finished the Christmas season. We are entering Ordinary Time, which we will shortly interrupt for the Lenten and Easter seasons. Each time the liturgy, through these seasonal emphases, calls us to a fresh assess-ment of how we are relating to God and how we are living our Christian life. What does it mean for us "to start afresh"? It does not mean that we reject everything that we have been doing. It does not call for us to break totally with our past and act as if we have Review for Religious no personal history. Each one of us is only one person, from birth to death and into resurrection. We are the ones that God loves into creation and identifies with, as sons and daughters in the redemptive action of Jesus. We must always work with our God-given gifts and limitations. But, accepting and living with the mystery of our own person, we receive God's call to start afresh, always to be growing, which means change and development. The foods that we liked as children should not keep us from foods we could well like as adults. When was the last time we tried something new to eat? Maybe we are very comfortable attending Eucharistic holy hours, but have we ever taken time to visit people in a nursing home or in a hospital? Perhaps we keep our weekends to our-selves, but are we open to volunteering for our parish's special pantry preparation and delivery for poor people in our neighborhood? Every Eucharist we celebrate invites us to start afresh with Christ. The risen Jesus, in his everlasting stance of offering himself anew totally to God and totally to us, extends his arms to embrace us in his offering as we enter into Eucharist. And so each Mass, with its own ritual pat-tern, is God's invitation to us to start anew. In the simple practice of the daily examination of conscience--once again a helpful pattern in our Christian lives--we find ourselves always being alerted to the surprising ways that God has entered into our lives this day and perhaps, to our sorrow, we have not responded. In a paradoxical way, by our looking back over our day in the examen, we find ourselves starting afresh in our relationship with God. "Starting afresh with Christ"--is this the "routine call" we hear every day? We may find that this call freshens the whole of our everyday way of living. David L. Fleming SJ 6Y.I 2006 RICHARD GRIBBLE American Catholicism's Chaos--and Its Future context In his recent book The Catholic Revolution: New Wine, Old Wineskins, and the Second Vatican Council, the priest sociologist Andrew Greeley uses new wine in old wineskins to describe con-temporary American Catholicism's chaotic state. He contends that, while appearing strong, Roman Catholicism's structures were fragile, for they had not been adequately adapted to chang-ing times. Thus, when the progressive teach-ings of Vatican II came all at once, the structures were not ready for them and chaos ensued.l Can this chaotic situation be a turning point to a stronger church in the future? Using the work of several prominent American Catholic intellectuals, this essay continues the discussion and seeks to increase hopes for the contempo-rary church. Richard Gribble CSC is an associate professor of religious studies at Stonehill College; 480 Washington Street; North Easton, Massachusetts 02356. His current email address is rgribble@stonehill.edu Review for Religious The American Church Today American Catholics today can be divided into two groups. The "spirit of Vatican II" Catholics, the majority of American Catholics, view John xxIII's aggiornamento as a move toward solidarity with the present age. Following the opening words of Sacrosanctum concilium, "The sacred council has set out., to adapt more closely to the needs of our age those institutions which are sub-ject to change," these more liberal Catholics see Vatican II as a starting point for adaptation. Greeley says, "Catholics [today] believe that the church can change and that they can disregard the pope when it comes to making decisions, especially about sex and gender.''2 Some refer to those in this category as "cafeteria Catholics," who feel free to pick and choose what teach-ings they accept and reject. George Weigel, senior fellow of the Ethics and Public Policy Center in Washington, D.C., calls such an understanding of the faith "Catholic lite," perceiving this "watered down" Catholicism as the root of the recent sexual-abuse crisis and, by extension, the general malaise in American Catholicism.3 Greeley characterizes the lassitude in the church as "beige Catholicism," with the Catholic imagination, once a source of unity, now replaced by a colorless Catholic life that has little enthusiasm.4 The other group, those labeled "conservatives" in the literature, accepts Vatican II at face value, but goes no further. These Catholics accept and promote what the council taught, but, unlike the more progressive element, do not believe that the council licensed the generation of multiple theologies. They reject the idea that the "spirit of Vatican II" should govern the church. In the eyes of this group, an overemphasis on aggiornamento created the disunities of "Catholic lite" and "beige Catholicism." James Hitchcock, professor of history at St. Louis 6Y. 1 2006 Gribble ¯ dmerican Catbolicism's Cbaos Despite Vatican II's emphasis on the active role of the laity, the hierarchical church is slow to relinquish power and authority. University, is a standard bearer for this position. He writes, "Liberal religion treats secular culture as pos-sessing a superior wisdom and restricts religious beliefs to what the culture allows, including endorsing every movement deemed to be progressive." He suggests fur-ther that liberals have no sense "that modernity itself, in the full sense oi: the term, is simply antireligious, that rejection of belief is essential to its self-understanding." s Given these divisions in American Catholicism, what are the dominant issues? The Catholic editor and writer Peter Steinfels, in his popular book A People Adrift, says the church must nego-tiate (1) the passage from one generation to the next and (2) the pas-sage of power from the clergy to the laity.6 The first passage is compli-cated: those formed religiously after Vatican II ask questions without sufficient background. v_ _ As for the second pas-sage, despite Vatican II's emphasis on the active role of the laity, the hierarchical church is slow to relinquish power and authority. Steinfels concludes: "Today the Roman Catholic Church in the United States is on the verge of either an irreversible decline or a thoroughgo-ing transformation." 7 For Catholicism worldwide and here in the United States, the ideas Catholics had about Pope John Paul II had a strong influence. Almost universally he was well respected for his worldwide crusade for social justice and his influence in the fall of Communism. More conser-vative critics such as George Weigel saw the pope's lead- Review for Religious ership in church affairs, one based on past traditions, to be precisely what was needed to curb uncertainty and dissent. Clearly John Paul saw Vatican II as a point of arrival, not one of departure for church development. Strong authority is needed, Weigel suggests, "to ensure Christians do not settle for mediocrity." 8 In similar sup-port, James Hitchcock claims that John Paul made "a broad and ambitious attempt to relate the Catholic faith to everything positive in modern culture.''9 On the other hand, the columnist David Gibson has written, "For all of John Paul's unparalleled accomplishments, his popu-larity came with a hidden cost to the church.''1° Similarly, the French journalist Alain Woodrow well summarizes how many American Catholics viewed John Paul: "John Paul is self-assured, convinced of his 'divine mission,' and determined to drag the church--kicking and scream-ing if need be--into his own vision of the 21st century, a vision shaped by his Polish ecclesiology and sustained by his theological certainties. No soul searching or admission of doubt here, but a ringing cry: 'Be not afraid'; I am the pope and I know best!''1~ The Church Today: Specific Ideas Vatican II's emphasis on the church as the people of God brought attention to the important role of the laity. In their outstanding study of the Catholic laity today, William D'Antonio and his colleagues have compared the theology and tendencies of three groups of Catholics: (1) those formed before Vatican II, (2) those who matured during Vatican II, and (3) those raised in a post-Vatican II church. All three generations studied seem to want a more democratic church. A positive view of lay partici-pation in the church increases with a generation's prox-imity to Vatican II. Yet participation as measured by Mass attendance and knowledge of church teaching declines 65.1 2006 Gribble * American Catholicism's Chaos 1_ol from the pre- to post-Vatican II church. 12 While lacking an accurate gauge, the study suggested that, because of less religious formation, post-Vatican II Catholics are less committed than their predecessors.~3 The rapid and significant growth of lay ministry, while a blessing ~o the church, has also caused a few problems. The 1999 "Study of Lay Parish Ministry" found that the theology and church policies necessary to govern this explosion of lay involvement have not kept pace with the advance. Additionally, some have raised concerns that the laity's movement into more tradition-ally priestly or religious roles may eclipse the primary role of the laity in the church and/or lead to a clerical-izing of the laity. Some also fear that careerism rather than a desire to serve, a problem called clericalism when noted in the clergy, may invade the ranks of the laity.14 Another concern raised with the post-Vatican II rise of the laity is an evolving mutual distrust and conflict between the clergy and the laity. David Gibson suggests that the rise in lay ministry has created a backlash and retrenchment on the part of priests. The clergy is flex-ing its muscle and standing aloof from the laity.~s Priests find themselves caught between two forces, the laity, with whom they generally agree theologically but dis-trust, and the institutional church, which they trust but do not agree with. Priests generally support the laity's more positive view of sexuality, have a greater sensitiv-ity to women, and possess respect for the laity's freedom to make decisions, especially on moral matters. 16 Yet cler-icalism and poor homilies, among other things, have cre-ated a gap between priests and their flocks. Rather than assigning any blame to themselves for this situation, the clergy generally point to family breakdown, divorce, and apathy as reasons for the divide.~7 In addition to the gap between the laity and the lower Review for Religious clergy, a division exists between the laity and the hier-archy. During the last several years, accentuated greatly by the 2002 sex-abuse crisis, bishops have lost much credibility with priests and the laity. At the June 2002 meeting of the U.S. Catholic bishops in Dallas, Scott Appleby, the church historian and former director of the Cushwa Center for the Study of American Catholicism, summarized the problem while proffering a solution: The crisis confronting the church today cannot be understood and thus not adequately addressed apart from its setting in a wider range of problems that have been growing over the last 34 years. At the heart of these problems is the alienation of the hierarchy and, to a lesser degree, many of the clergy, from ordinary laywomen and laymen . To be faithful to the church envisioned by the council fathers of Vatican II, bishops and priests must trust the laity, appropriately share authority with them, and open their financial, legal, [and] administrative practices and decisions to full visibility. 18 Unfortunately, Appleby's call for transparency has not been heeded sufficiently. In many ways the separation between the hierarchy and the laity has widened on account of the bishops' poor reception of the Voice of the Faithful, the laity's effort to seek accountability while supporting the institutional church. The laity's status in the church and its conflicts with the clergy are highlighted by the ongoing struggle for women to gain proper recognition and equality. How paradoxical that, while women are more active in church ministries, they are mostly relegated to the fringes in authority and privilege. The moral theologian Christine Gudorf has stated that, despite church social teaching on the equality of women, papal teaching on the nature and role of women still accentuates the theme of motherhood. Not only does the pope view motherhood as an element 6Y. 1 2006 Gribble ¯ American Catholicism's Chaos 12 of being female; he views it as a definition of woman-hood. 9 The Benedictine nun, lecturer, and writer Joan Chittister, believes that to design doctrines on marriage, family, and sexuality--all of which deeply and directly impinge on women--without their input is to adopt "posi-tions that are incomplete as well as arrogant." 20 Views opposed ~0 the rise of feminism are also pre-sent. In a strong statement James Hitchcock has written: The rise of militant feminism has been one of the most serious crises in the history of orthodox religion, because women have always tended to be more pious than men and the churches are thus alienated from some of their hitherto most faithful communicants, and because militant feminism logically rejects not only a male savior but the very idea of monotheism.21 The crisis experienced by the laity in today's church is present as well in the priesthood, although manifested differently. Before Vatican II the priesthood in general sustained a vertical.rather than a horizontal faith. The priest was symbolic and functional and was character-ized by the concept of alter Christus (another Christ). The popular 1950s television show "Father Knows Best" could have been easily applied to the priest, who stood as a symbol of the institutional church and functioned to serve God's people in every way. Life for the priest and his people was centered in the parish. While some clergy became prominent as social activists or in other specific roles, the operative model was the all-purpose priest-hood. With rectories and seminaries full and the gener-ally high respect afforded priests, as typified by Father O'Malley in the box-office favorites "Going My Way" and "The Bells of Saint Mary's," priesthood in the American church was .strong. Vatican II's emphasis on the priesthood of the laity and on the church as the people of God "demanded a Review for Religious formal and full reconsideration of the role and identity of the priest in the new church.''22 The tumultuous 1960s, the increased pressure on priests to serve as the-ological and spiritual leaders, and the increasing numbers of men leaving the priesthood transformed the remain-ing priests from "all-purpose" to "orchestra leaders." The priest was now called to identify and foster the unique gifts in each parishioner for service to the church. Empowerment of the laity to fulfill its man-date from Vatican II became an integral part of the priesthood. Yet this demand was not negotiated well by many, leading some to suffer an identity crisis and loss of purpose . With many of the faithful serving as ministers of the Eucharist, ministers of the word, ministers to the sick, and similar functions, what was distinctive about the ordained ministry?z3 Father Donald Cozzens, in his Changing Face of the Priesthood, has described 1980 to 2000 as the "priest-hood's dark night." He writes, "The postconciliar years have tested the mettle of priests--crisis after crisis 'shak-ing the foundations' and turning their lives inside out and upside down." 24 He says that the fallout from Vatican II, most notably the rise in dissent, has eaten away at the priest's moral authority and curtailed the cleric's ability to offer pastoral guidance. Yet, despite these conditions, Cozzens believes the priesthood's present dark night has led to a deepening of spirit and a purification of soul and thus a grace and blessing. The dark night was necessary to bring about the conversion of mind and heart that the Empowerment of the laity to fulf!lt its mandate from Vatican Il became an integral part of the priesthood. 6Y.1 2006 Gribble ¯ American Catholicism's Chaos priesthood needed to serve the people of God in a post-conciliar world.2s The priesthood faces additional challenges that must be addressed in the 2 lst-century church. Some more progressive commentators, like Andrew Greeley, suggest that clericalism allows the clergy to hide behind a veil of secrecy and keeps priests from accepting responsibil-ity for their actions. The natural and important cama-raderie that exists in the clergy has too often been used as an excuse to cover up information and actions that might be seen as prejudicial against the institutional church. One need look no further than the recent sex-abuse controversy to find clear evidence of this. Members of a fraternity will not speak ill of each other. In the same light the priesthood's traditional hierarchical posi-tion above the laity gives license for some to dominate God's people or disregard their opinions.26 More con-servative writers lay much of the blame for lassitude in the church at the feet of the clergy. James Hitchcock has written: The spread of secular attitudes in Catholic cultures has not been primarily the work of professors and journalists, but of priests. Laymen who would be disposed to resist secularization, especially as they see it emanating from hostile sources outside the churches, abandon their resistance at the parent bidding of their spiritual leaders.27 Polarization of theology is another contemporary phenomenon in the priesthood. The researcher Dean Hoge in his First Five Years of the .Priesthood provides a convincing argument that younger priests are more con-servative in their theology and align themselves more strictly along the views of Pope John Paul II.28 Andrew Greeley agrees with Hoge's analysis, especially noting the views of young clergy toward optional celibacy and Review for Religious women priests. He suggests three reasons for their views: (1) These priests do not understand Vatican II, (2) they want the security of a clerical state, and (3) they reject uncertainty.29 More positively, Greeley debunks the myth that priests are unhappy men, especially as a result of the celibacy requirement. Greeley's analysis shows that, while priests may not be paragons of maturity and personal well-being, they are similar to married men with com-mensurate educational backgrounds. His data demon-strates that only two percent of active priests see celibacy as a problem and only sixteen percent of clerics who resign do so because of celibacy. Rather, priests leave because they do not like the work. Celibacy becomes a problem only when ministry is not satisfying.3° What is needed for the American Catholic priest of the 2 1st century? Peter Steinfels presents three signifi-cant qualities of future priests. First, they must possess the theological capacity to celebrate the sacraments, preach the word of God, and make contemporary life meaningful. Second, they must have the ability to ani-mate and guide others. Third, they must be account-able. 3~ John Boissonneau, auxiliary bishop of Toronto, provides a different but consistent list of attributes. Successful priests must view their role as countercultural and not be afraid to take risks. Future clergy must place a premium on authenticity in their personal lives and ministry. And, lastly, successful future priests must avoid isolation, drawing their life from the people they serve.32 The Church Tomorrow To speak intelligently about the needs of the future church, one should know what has proved successful in the past. Andrew Greeley's call for a return to what he terms "the Catholic imagination" deserves some review. 65.1 2006 Gribble * ~qmerican Catbolicis~z's Chaos Catholicism must recover the things of beauty that were summarily swept aside in the wake of the spirit of Vatican II, For Greeley the glue that held worldwide Catholicism was the many metaphors that stressed the immanence of God. Rather than perceiving God as transcendent (the general theological perspective of Protestants), Catholics have always been attracted by multiple sense images of God's presence. The smell of incense, the sight of Eucharistic adoration, processions, and statues, and the words of novenas, parish missions, and the rosary have long served as a glue for Catholics. These were practices to which all could relate; all Catholics were on the same page. Scratch one Catholic and the whole church bled. Greeley does not suggest a return to the 1940s or 1950s, but the "beige Catholicism" that predominates today is not the answer either. He believes that Catholicism must recover the things of beauty that were summarily swept aside in the wake of the spirit of Vatican II. Greeley says the church needs chant, statues, and patron saints; we need metaphors for God.3.3 David Gibson agrees, but goes further. He believes that subsidiarity, a principle of Catholic social teaching, must become operative in the church universal. For Gibson, loyalty to Catholicism is rooted in the local parish. Rather than from the top down, he suggests that governing be from the bottom up, giving voice and authority to the laity. He says that what is important for the church is unity, not uniformity.34 Where must the church move in the 21st century in order to be the viable and healthy institution that will Review for Religious well serve the people of God? Peter Steinfels laments that Cardinal Joseph Bernardin's dynamic Common Ground initiative was summarily cast aside and a reasser-tion of papal authority put in its place. He suggests that the Catholic leadership of the future must break out from trench warfare that has constricted discussion in the American Church since Vatican II. He believes that a balance must be struck between theology and pastoral reality and that the lack of dialogue has been harmful, and so he sees Bernardin's plan as the optimum.35 On a similar track the journalist David Gibson sees the future church in the hands of the hierarchy. There are two routes to follow. Of the two, the more conser-vative one would want Rome to reassert its power and its claim on Catholics' loyalty. The other one would admit problems and seek systemic change. Gibson opts for the second, with the belief that bishops must become more vocal politically and seek avenues whereby those ele-ments of the faith that can be adapted to the uniqueness of the American environment are changed.36 The present crisis in .the church must be a point of renewal that affords growth and a brighter future.36a Clearly it is impossible to return to the pre-Vatican II Church, even if one should desire such a move. The ben-efits that Vatican II brought must be fostered, yet the initial postconciliar "throwing the baby out with the bath" must be avoided. The council called for greater inclusivity as manifest in opportunities for laity and open-ness to other people of faith. Recent developments, as expressed in church documents on various levels, have been seen by many as a regression from Vatican II. In August 2000 the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith proclaimed concerning Protestants: "If it is true that the followers of other religions can receive grace, it is also certain that objectively speaking [emphasis in the 65.1 2006 Gribble ¯ American Catholicism's Chaos document] they are in a gravely deficient situation in comparison with those who; in the church, have the full-ness of the means of salvation.''37 This regression of Vatican II's more open position toward Protestants does not bode well for the future. The church must reinvig-orate the spirit expressed in Nostra aetate: "Ever aware of her duty to foster unity and charity among individuals, and even among nations, she [the church] reflects at the outset on what men have in common and what tends to promote fellowship among them.''38 Additionally, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops has alien-ated many of the faithful laity by stating: "If extraordi-nary ministers of Holy Communion are required by pastoral need, they should not approach the altar before the priest has received communion.''39 In an effort to return to more reverence for the Eucharist, the bishops have effectively placed on ice the council's call for active lay participation on all levels. The council called for a pastoral approach to the lived faith and for a greater sense of dialogue with the world in order to harness the advancement of human knowledge for the betterment of God's people. While the church must continue to oppose secularism and be a countercultural light to the contemporary fascinations of power, wealth, and prestige, she cannot do so effec-tively through a dogmatic and defensive stance. John Paul II reannounced this unyielding position, casting aside dialogue on key issues when he proclaimed in 1994: "I declare that the church has no authority whatsoever to confer priestly ordination on women and that this judg-ment is to be definitely held by all the church's faith-ful.'' 4° The church must be open to dialogue, within its own ranks and with other people of faith. The sensz~s fidelium must be addressed by listening to God's people and having the courage to admit error and to effect Review for Religious change. The church cannot stand aloof from the world, but must engage society on all levels. American Catholicism today is at a moment of crisis, even in chaos, but the church need not panic nor be downcast or without hope. Even a cursory review of church history, both universally and in the United States, demonstrates that there have been many crises in the past, but all were negotiated as moments of change, not despair. Such is the case with the contemporary situa-tion. The fate of the church is in our hands; we are, as Lumen gentium states, the people of God. We must not wring our hands or lament with loud cries; rather, as individuals and community, we must use the present cri-sis as a springboard for action. We might not produce systemic change tomorrow, but we need to think globally and act locally. Margaret O'Brien Steinfels has aptly placed the challenge before us: "We can no longer indulge the slothful habit of postponing the church that we need until the next papacy, until the seminaries are full, until the controversies are resolved, until some faith-ful remnant rules the church. We need to bring the new life into the project of church renewal that we have neglected too long.''4~ Are we listening to the church's contemporary voice and willing to act? Only we can answer. Notes ~ Andrew Greeley, The Catholic Revolution: New Wine, Old Wineskins, and the Second Vatican Council (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004), pp. 1-4. z Greeley, Catholic Revolution, p. 58. 3 George Weigel, The Courage to Be Catholic: Crisis, Refor~n, and the Future of the Church (New York: Basic Books, 2002), pp. 219-232. 4 Greeley, Catholic Revolution, pp. 81-89. Drawing from David Tracy's Analogical Imagination, Greeley suggests that the glue to Catholic life has always been its "Catholic Imagination," e.g., a metaphor for ritual, 6Y.I 2006 Gribble ¯ American Catholicism's Chaos devotion, and music. While Catholics today find themselves across the board on many issues, religious and secular, the Catholic imagination has kept unity. Today's understanding and practice of Catholicism threat-ens this cohesion. See Andrew Greeley, Catholic Imagination. s James Hitchcock, "Interpreting Vatican II: Version One, A Continuum in the Great Tradition," Commonweal 128, no. 5 (9 March 2001): 19, 18. 6 Peter Steinfels, A People Adrift: The Crisis of the Roman Catholic Church in America (New York: Simon and Schuster, 2003), pp. 1-14. 7 p. Steinfels, People Adrift, p. 1. s George Weigel, "Liberal Church? Conservative Church?" Crisis 19, no. 10 (November 2001): 32. 9 Hitchcock, "Interpreting Vatican II," 19. 10 David Gibson, The Coming Church: How the Faitbful Are Shaping a New American Catholicism (San Francisco: Harper, 2003), p. 327. 1, Alain Woodrow, "Superstar or Servant?" in The Papacy and the People of God, ed. Gary MacEoin (Maryknoll: Orbis Press), p. 83. lz William V. D'Antonio et al., Laity American and Catholic: Transforming the Church (Kansas City: Sheed and Ward, 1996), pp. 65-66, 73-79. Interesting statistical figures compare the three generations of American Catholics. For pre-Vatican I! Catholics, Vatican II Catholics, and post-Vatican Catholics respectively, the figures were 63 percent, 45 percent, and 23 percent as regards "active perticipation" (Mass atten-dance etc.). For daily prayer the figures were 90 percent, 67 percent, and 56 percent. When asked if Mass attendance is necessary to "be a good Catholic," 60 percent, 74 percent, and 80 percent said no. This lat-ter statistic, while consistent with the decline in participation over the generations, shows pre-Vatican Catholics not feeling as strong an obli-gation to attend Sunday Mass as they formerly did. 's D'Antonio, Laity, pp. 84-99. 14 "A Study of Parish Lay Ministry," Origins 29, no. 7 (1 July 1999): 103-104, 107. is Gibson, Coming Church, pp. 35-62. ~6 Greeley, Catholic Revolution, pp. 120-127. 17 Andrew Greeley, Priests: A Calling in Crisis (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2004), pp. 86-99. 18 R. Scott Appleby, "What Is at Stake in the Present Crisis?" Origins 32, no. 7 (27 June 2002): 116. 19 Christine E. Gudorf, "Encountering the Other: The Modern Papacy on Women," in Change in Official Catholic Moral Teachings, ed. Charles Curran (New York: Paulist Press, 2003), p. 273. Review for Religious ~o Joan Chittister OSB, "Women in the Church: A New Pentecost in Process," in MacEoin, Papacy and the People 0fGod, pp. 11, 6. Chittister has said, "We need a papacy that can see the oppression of women by the church itself and is willing to model their inclusion at the highest levels of Vatican planning." See "Women in the Church," p. 10. 2~ James Hitchcock, "The Guilty Secret of Liberal Christianity," New Oxford Review 63 (October 1996): 12-13. 22 R. Scott Appleby, "Historical Overview Priests in America, 1930- 2002," Origins 33, no. 4 (5 June 2003): 55. 23 Weigel, Courage, pp. 9-34. 24 Donald Cozzens, The Changing Face of the Priesthood: A Reflection on the Priests' Crisis 0fSoul (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2000), p. 130. 2s Cozzens, Changing, p. 137. See also Cozzens, "Priesthood Emerges from a Dark Night," America 180, no. 9 (20 March 1999): 24. 26 Greeley, Priests, pp. 100-113. :7 Hitchcock, "Guilty Secret," p. 15. z8 Dean Hoge, The First Five Years of the Priesthood: A Study of Newly Ordained Catholic Priests (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2000), pp. 3-4. 29 Greeley, Priests, pp. 73-85. 3o Greeley, Priests, pp. 33-35, 48-72; Greeley, Catholic Revolution, pp. 120-127. 3t Steinfels, People Adrift, pp. 307-351. ~2 Bishop John Boissonneau, "Future Effective Priests," Origins 32, no. I0 (1 August 2002): 174. 3~ This is the theme of Greeley's Catholic hnagination. See also Greeley, Catholic Revolution, pp. 131-149. 34 Gibson, Coming Church, pp. 82-108. ~s Steinfels, People Adrift, pp. 352-360. In April 1996 Bernardin sug-gested that the dissension in American Catholicism could be transformed by seeking common ground amongst the various viewpoints. Bernardin's idea was severely criticized by Cardinals Bernard Law of Boston and John O'Connor of New York. ~6 Gibson, Coming Church, pp. 293-317,336. ~6~ Editorial note. Along with some brief quo.tations, these conclud-ing paragraphs contain some ideas that are current in the church in the United States and are often assumed to express Vatican II's spirit and to be its crystallized mandates. They have not always been argued care-fully. They deserve our careful consideration. The hopes we all have call all of us to this care. 37 Dominns Jesus (On the Unicity and Salvific Universality of Jesus 65.1 2006 Gribble * American Catholicism's Chaos Christ and the Church), August 2000, §22. 38 Nostra aetate, §1. 39 "Norms for the Distribution and Reception of Holy Communion under Both Kinds in the Dioceses of the United States of America," 14 June 2001, §38. ~o Ordinatio sacerdotalis, §4. See Origins 24, no. 4 (9 June 1994): 51. 41 Margaret O'Brien Steinfels, "The Crisis through the Laity's Lens," Origins 32, no. 7 (27 June 2002): 112-113. Rope Bridge At Ava, once, I crossed the ravine on a lattice of slats knotted into rope; undulant, it bucked at every step. That bridge rode its own law at war with gravity and my bulk. I never breathed as my feet swayed above the pines. I'd pry loose one hand from the guide rope thinned to spider silk to cling an inch farther along. And once on solid land, the terror rose: there was no other way to return. But midway back, I learned the sway, could look down at leaves, guess at bird names, not Jear the hawk's arc. I took a breath, and another, and held less tightly. M. Doretta Cornell RDC Review for Religious ANTHONY MALAVIARATCHI Religious Life in the Third Worldma Shangri-La? The attraction to get into the first world is irre-sistible to many of the people in the third world. As everyone knows, thousands knock on the doors of the first world's embassies. Arrangements and rearrangements are made to accommodate them, and of course many more find their way into their chosen Shangri-Las illegally. Throughout its history, religious life and the church itself have often been microcosms of their own social milieu. Religious life has felt the currents and undercurrents of the world around it. However much religious life .chooses to insert itself into its milieu, in no way is it called to succumb to the social trends of its place and time. This, however, is all too likely to happen, even when we think we are relying deeply on Jesus' words "Do not be afraid, I have overcome the world." Anthony Malaviaratchi CSSR is at present involved in mis-sion and retreat work. His address is Santa Maria; George Silva Mawatha; Kandy, Sri Lanka. challenges 65.1 2006 Malaviaratchi * Religious Life in the Third 14form The founding fathers of the church in the third world were members of religious orders who came in the com-pany of world-conquering colonial powers. Religious life did not sprout in the soil of the third world. Rather, like Western democracy, it was brought there and planted there by zealous missionaries. It is natural, then, that it bears the features of the first world's status and security. Religious life and priesthood in the third world offer to those who join its ranks the status and security that third-world people seek in the first world, and so it is no sur-prise that young people in poor countries join religious life by the hundreds. Two factors are at work in this phenomenon. The first is the poverty of the third world. Since the arrival of television, the "attraction of the eye" has motivated peo-ple to go after the goodies of the developed world. What they see with their eyes literally empowers them to go after those material goods. Second, the competition in the job market frightens many. They sense that, if they have neither great talent nor academic qualifications, they will end up as dropouts in the race. A "vocation" is an attractive alternative, a way of escaping such social pressure and yet attaining a position of prestige. Historically, many have embraced religious life and the priesthood for a variety of such ulterior motives. Vocational Discernment In this situation, vocational discernment has become next to impossible. Whether they are aware of all their motives or not, those seeking religious formation from mixed motives know how to play the game, what to say and do and whom they need to impress, bishops, provin-cials, councilors, formators, and so forth. Even honest per-sons' motivations may come to the surface only after final vows or ordination. Then they may be seen in the lifestyle Review for Religious adopted, which may include having a vehicle of one's own, a personal computer, and a cell phone and being head of an institute that provides plenty of money and freedom for foreign trips, for higher studies in the first world, and so forth. Even those who develop crises soon after ordina-tion are offered the opportunity of settling down in the first world in or outside of religious life. Some congrega-tions do not mind offering these perquisites, these "perks," as a cost of their institutional survival even though it is a blatant compromise of the meaning of religious life. For how long? History will answer this interesting question in the not so distant future. Given these circumstances, then, vocation discern-ment is possible only after final vows or ordination! Discernment can take place only over what is humanly discernible and not over motivations that remain largely hidden from all concerned. Some formation programs have begun to take the first steps in countering this situation by insisting that those in formation live and be employed like any other young person for a considerable period of time. This is probably the vocation discernment exercise best suited for the situation. But many congregations and superiors still seem to prefer numbers. As long as there is poverty and unemployment, they will surely have "vocations." The money poured in by the congregations' first-world units positively encourages this situation. In non-Christian monasteries and hermitages, voca-tion discernment is a lifelong process. When a monk or hermit does not live the life that he embraced, he is asked to leave. So it is in any human organization. When mem-bers of a football club want to play ice hockey, they leave. It is not so in religious life. Members remain in the foot-ball club playing not only ice hockey but polo as well. This situation attracts more "vocations." Not only are 65.1 2006 Malaviaratchi ¯ Religious Life in the Third Worm prestige, status, and security offered but permissiveness as well. Remarkably, the situation we are looking at is found largely in the Latin (Western) form of religious life. Eastern and non-Christian "religious" have protected themselves with the help of authority, laws, traditions, and, in some instances, fundamentalism. Religious life of the Western tradition is flooded with evils that sur-round it: secularism, horizontalism, individualism, and permissiveness. Religious life is thus being suffocated by the very evils from which it is supposed to save not only itself but the world as well. 26 Present Leadership Style In the face of these forces, leadership in religious life has largely failed to fulfill its prophetic and pastoral roles by making only innocuous statements, after which it is "business as usual" in the ranks. Absolutely nothing fol-lows till the next innocuous pronouncement. Thus, many third-world religious, who are culturally much more authority-dependent than their Western counterparts, now have to try to be faithful in an authority vacuum. Leadership paralysis is aggravated by the fact that the modern superior is often an elected one. The ballot directly or indirectly produces leadership according to the voters and their expectations. As seen above, too many voters joined religious life for status and security. Today there are as many private agendas as there are voters. These voters will ensure that the superiors will be past masters at compromise, who will accommodate every private interest. The superiors elected thus will on no account insist on group fidelity to the spirit of the con-gregation nor demand the self-forgetfulness that the nature of religious life requires. Superiors who do will not be reelected. Hence superiors avoid this public Review for Religious humiliation by putting up buildings and expanding apos-tolic commitments. They are glad to be blissfully unaware of what is happening at the roots. It is known today that many third-world nations are culturally unable to handle Western democracy. In spite of that, religious in the third world are expected to rise above cultural barriers and vote for their superior. Western democracy is not the only way in which humans involve themselves and make group decisions for their common good. Superiors now belong to a generation which follows the path of least resistance, namely, the path of conve-nience, the first step of which is the avoidance of all that is unpleasant. Confrontation and correction of individ-ual members is unpleasant, ~ . embarrassing, and painful and is therefore carefully avoided. Also superiors are aware that frequently their correction will be ignored and erring individuals will refuse to change. The~e, however, are situations foreseen in the Gospels ~. and church law, and mea-sures to be taken are prescribed. In the situation we are looking at, the superiors may not themselves believe in those measures. People all around choose "the broad highway to hell" rather than "the narrow path" of growth in fidelity. L~adership paralysis is aggravated by the fact that the modern superior is often an elected one. A Trend and Subsidiarity Aiding and abetting today's leadership style is the widespread trend of looking and speaking only about what is positive. Thus, all negatives (such as, in religious 65.1 2006 Malaviaratcbi ¯ Religious Life in the Third World 28 life, unfaithfulness) are evaded at various evaluations. For any human group that wishes to survive, what ulti-mately matters is not what is positive or negative, but rather what accomplishes or prevents the attainment of its goals. Superiors who take precautions to avoid what is negative seem to imitate monkeys who "see no nega-tives, hear no negatives, and speak no negatives." Thus they fail to keep before them the Leader whose repre-sentatives they are and who did not hesitate to speak of "this evil and adulterous generation." Leaders who reli-giously avoid facing what is negative among their members are likely to be the first to attend to the negatives when their laptop fails, their cell phone needs recharging, or their dog needs worming. In this situation the valuable principle of subsidiarity is much abused in our day. The principle means that the lower levels of authority are encouraged and facilitated to perform to the maximum within their ambit. The principle itself, however, demands that higher levels of authority readily step in when lower levels fail in their one and only duty, namely, ensuring faithfulness to the way of life of the particular congregation. Usually only the first half of the principle is followed today, which amounts to passing the buck. Even when it comes to items vital to religious life, the general chap-ter leaves it to the superior general and his council, the superior general to the provincial, the provincial to the local superior, and the local superior to the individual. The result usually is that the matter is thrown over-board--" leaving it to the individual" being a euphemism today for "forget about it." No structure of religious life--nor religious life itself will survive if it does not learn to evaluate all things with the measure given by the Lord: "By their fruits you will know them." Despite all the above, religious life is not without Review for Religious hope. As a radical way of faith, religious life is called at this juncture to be also a community of radical hope, with its only hope in God and in what he will do. Personal Reflection Questions 1. Have I found that my motivations for my religius voca-tion have changed or been purified over the years since entrance? 2. How do I try to be a help in clarifying another's vocation decision? Group Discussion Propositions 1. In an affluent country, we expect that vocations to reli-gious life will be small in number. 2. In developing countries, vocations to priesthool and reli-gious life have a prestige and security factor that clouds the motivation of candidates and makes discernment more diffi-cult. 65.1 2006 GUIRE CLEARY Challenges for Communities' New Members TRAnglican Church in Aotearoa/New Zealand held eligious Life Conference for religious commu-nities in New Zealand, Australia, and Fiji. Some fifty religious from more than twelve communities gathered at the Tainui Endowed College in H0puhopu 17-21 February 2005. Principal speakers included a Roman Catholic Cistercian and a Sister of Mercy. The location itself was significant. Hopuhopu is the center for the Tainui people, the Aotearoan tribe from which the Maori sovereign is selected. Most of the meetings were held in the tribal debating chamber as a show of solidarity with a people recovering their dignity and strength. One of the workshops was titled Issues of Anger in Religious Communities, presented by an experienced priest and spiritual director, the Rev. Pamela Warnes. Her workshop was a brilliant combination of articulating Guire Cleary SSF, an Anglican Franciscan friar whose "novitiate was a trial for everybody," has worked in New Zealand for social justice and currently is stationed in Hawaii: 2463 Kuhio Avenue, apt. 905; Honolulu, Hawaii 96815. He would welcome comments or questions at guirejohncleary@aol.com. Review for Religious issues and discussing solutions, all conducted in a context of prayer and concluded With a healing ceremony. One paper was my own, setting out some of my experiences as a new religious and my observations of the experi-ences of other new religious. Participants said they had experienced almost everything I mentioned and added a few of their own. At the conclusion of the workshop, one asked me, "Have you been a fly on our wall?" I said I was probably more of a mosquito. The challenges set out below are challenges to most communities, not just religious communities. The largest challenge is getting past the frustration and anger of these experiences to the heart space that allows healing and mature development in the community. To be a new member in any organization or group is always a challenge. The process of incorporation and mutual learning is not easy, and only the experience of service, community, and love make it worthwhile or even tolerable. Incorporation can run the gamut from hazing and emotional abuse to a joyous mutual discovery. Often new members experience anger and shock when the real costs of community life become apparent, and religious communities are in difficult transitions to new models of life. Different types of persons are entering and try-ing their vocation. Having left the novitiate eighteen years earlier, I was just a few days short of my forty-sixth birthday when I was re-received as a postulant in my community in the United States. The age restriction was waived because of my prior connection with the com-munity. Since I joined in 1997, four more men have tried their vocation. All but one were even older than I was. Some of these challenges are peculiar to the mindset of liberal Americans or unique to my own emotional makeup and quirks. New members in conservative com-munities or communities of the third world might expe- 65.1 2006 Clearg/ ¯ Challenges for Communities' New Members 32, rience only a few of these, or not in the same way. Interestingly, communities following a conservative rule and communities of the third world are attracting the most new members. ¯ Age Disparities: Although today's novices may be older than the novices of earlier generations, they are still entering communities where most members are at least twenty-five years older than the new members. ¯ Work Experience: New members have generally had one or more careers and generally outside the religious world. A community may have members who have never had paid employment or have never paid into any pen-sion plans, private or public. This may result in con-flicting valuations of the new members' worth and contribution. ¯ Nationality/Culture: A religious house may consist of members from many nations and cultures. New mem-bers may find that they are minorities in houses within their own native country and may encounter members who lack understanding of the language and culture of the very nation where they are living. In other words, new members may find themselves aliens inside the com-munity and natives only when they are on the other side of the front door. ¯ Relationship Experience: New members generally have had emotional relationships or been married or in partnership before joining the community. Older mem-bers have seldom had such experiences and so may approach communication and relationships differently. Members who have not had mature adult relationships before entering the community may have a tendency to adolescent humor and may be unable to "fight fairly and cleanly." ¯ Big Fish in Little Ponds: Some new members may have had executive careers or may have exercised signif- Review for Religious icant power in education, health, law, politics, or com-merce. Such people may not understand how a long-term member of a religious community can be so incensed over someone putting dishes in the "wrong" place and why that would matter so much. A sister who before joining the community has been responsible for millions of dollars may find it difficult to sit through a lecture on conserving toilet paper. Sometimes the failure of new religious to respond to concerns that seem insignificant leads to a misunderstanding of their motives. One reli-gious told of having said nothing because of hav-ing no opinion about a small matter and then being accused of "holding out for the main chance" by a senior member. In reality the younger religious was unlikely ever to hold an opinion on "the use of antiphons." You may hear in this an echo of Winston Churchill's observation that academic politics is so vicious because the stakes are so low. ¯ Multiculturalism and Multifaitb Experience: Newer members generally have a broader experience of other cultures and faiths and often incorporate elements from them into their own spirituality. Older members usually have begun and continued on a path of traditional Euro- American Christianity. They may disparage or discount the religious experiences or practices of new members, who often have exercised great discipline in their spiri-tual lives for years before joining the community. ¯ Neocolonialism: Much of the growth of religious Somet!mes the failure qf new retigious to respond ,to concerns t~at seem insignificant leads: ~io a misunderstanding of their ,mot, ives. 6Y. 1 2006 Clear)/ ¯ Challenges for Communities' New Members communities with which I am familiar has taken place in countries of the third world. As often as not, how-ever, leadership and finances are in the hands of members of the first world. One of the most peculiar anecdotes of neocolonialism occurred in America. English mem-bers who had been transferred to the United States sub-jected a new religious of American citizenship and Irish descent to ethnic slurs and disrespect. Ironically, when this religious spent time in another country, he received abuse from a fellow religious in his host country for being an American. You do not have to live in the third world to experience tribalism. ¯ Diminisbment of Citizenship: One religious observed that, when on assignment out of her native country, she had to ask permission to return to her home country. The irony is that the decision making was shared by for-eign residents who had never acquired citizenship in the country to which they were not permitting the native-born citizen to return. ¯ Disempowerment: No matter how communities pre-sent and sugarcoat the need for the probation and test-ing of new members, the fact is that new members are disempowered for a number of years. Voting rights might not be earned or granted until years after entrance into the community. Conversely, some communities allow full voting rights tO life-members for their lifetime, no matter their debility or their being out of touch. ¯ Prior Debts: Some new members enter communities with unpaid education debts that have to be paid even-tually. How doe~ the community approach this issue? One community allowed new members to live in'a com-munity house rent-free before being received as postu-lants so that they could continue in employment and thereby manage to pay their debts. Other communities have simply told their aspirants to postpone their voca- Review for Religious tions until all debts were paid. These communities rarely saw those aspirants again. ¯ Preexisting Families: The spirit of the times no longer holds that religious are dead to family and friends. Some new members may still have obligations to aging parents or to children or grandchildren. I chuckle at the recollection of a mother superior exclaiming after a string of widows applied for entrance into her community, "Aren't there any virgins left in America?" One com-munity in the United States had a creative approach to assisting new members who still had some family obli-gations. All new members were given educational loans that did not have to be repaid if the member were life-professed for a certain number of years. In one situation a new member was allowed to use the loan for court-ordered child support. ¯ Financial Identity: Most vocations do not survive into life profession. New members would be severely handicapped if they were to reenter the world with an impaired credit rating. Can the community tolerate the new member's keeping a credit card? The vow of poverty might have to be applied differently among community members. Perhaps differing applications of poverty within the same community are not such a new idea at all. ¯ Decay of Professional Qualifications: Some new mem-bers enter community with outstanding professional qualifications that require continuing education. Recent new members of one community have included a physi-cian, chiropractor, attorney, andparalegal. Failure to maintain those professional qualifications means that new members might lose that qualification o.r, if they leave community, find it difficult to return to their prior career or to their prior salary level. ¯ Health: Newer members are not only younger than the majority of the community, but are generally in much 65.1 2006 Cleary ¯ Challenges for Communities' New Menzbers 36 better health. Frequently that better health is due to memberships in gyms or health clubs. What is the com-munity's commitment to the new members' health reg-imen, especially if they are going to be looked to for doing a large share of physical work? ¯ Secret Customaries: Often it appears that there is a "secret customary" that is not available to new members. Sometimes it is merely poor communication. Other times it is simply a way of older members' maintaining power by asserting that a certain way of doing things is house or community custom. This is a form of manipulation by esoteric knowledge. ¯ The Rule: One novice guardian opined to me that older members usually oppressed the new members on those sections of the Rule of which the older members were least observant. On the other hand, older members have felt harried by new members who took on the role of Brother "Living Rule." As the old saying goes in reli-gious communities, "Wherever you have saints you will have martyrs." ¯ Survivors: Many of the older members of commu-nities are survivors of religious and cultural wars. New members, too, have fought the battles of inclusivity, litur-gical reform, gender, sexual orientation, hierarchy, and so forth, but not in the same way as the older members, and so the new members might not bear the same scars or have the same invested positions. The new members might not be aware of the cost the community has paid for a position. The older members may not realize that the struggle has moved to new fronts or past previously adopted positions. ¯ Loss of Disposable Time and Personal Space: New members frequently have to give up the freedom of dis-posable time and larger accommodations. Often new members have lived alone in housing that they did not Review for Religious share with anyone. Living in close quarters is a major adjustment for new members. I had to get used to using headphones with my CD player. ¯ Peers: New members, with few peers in the novi-tiate, lack the mutual support which they and their lay friends once had and which older religious had as novices. My noviceship was a particularly lonesome time. ¯ Wages and Support: With more of the community entering retirement, there is greater pressure for the new members to support the older members financially. New members are sometimes annoyed at being pressured to find full-time employment and encouraged to find sec-ular employment if the pay is better while some older members are working part-time or only started to con-tribute much money to the community when they began receiving pensions. There is further annoyance that members may bring in a vital salary but have no vote on how the money is used. It has happened that a current bad financial situation was caused by the incompetence or negligence of a prior generation, and then new mem-bers bringing in salaries were expected to assist in the bailout. ¯ Full-time Employment: Many religious, especially younger religious, now have to hold full-time jobs. The community still expects them to participate in commu-nity functions, retreats, and chapters. The only time available might be their vacation time. Physical and spir-itual exhaustion are common results. Sometimes the only compensated employment open to new members is sec-ular employment. They might wonder why they sacri-ficed so much only to find that religious ministry is not available or will not fill the .community's income needs or expectations. ¯ Lost Vocation and Still in Community: Perhaps the saddest members of religious communities are those 65.1 2006 Cleary ¯ Challenges for Comntunities' New Members The religious life is a voluntary choice, but still there is a loss of family, friends, status, and autonomy. 38 members who have essentially lost their vocation. They would like to leave their community, but economic con-venience, advancing age, and fears of adapting to a changed world while losing their vocational self-esteem make them choose to stay. Their bitter or sullen presence disheartens everyone. These members are often a terror to new members arriving with belief, motivation, and fresh ideas. The new members represent what the sullen members have lost and thus become objects of spite. ¯ Pecking Order: New members have the least power. For senior members who process their anger or frustra-tion by petty acts of spite, the new members are the nat-ural prey. Then there is enough pain to go around for everybody. ¯ Isolating the Complainers: It is destructive when severely damaged members of the community are allowed to create environ-ments that are emotionally and sometimes physically unsafe. This behavior may go on for years without challenge because the other members are paralyzed with fear. Newer members who challenge the behavior are sometimes told that they are the ones with emotional problems and need to be "more community minded and charitable." I have seen three communities where former superiors were severely oppressed by dam-aged members. In one case, a former superior simply left the local community rather than raise the issue. What caused them to collude in their own oppression? ¯ Grief, Loss, and Anger: All new members are going through a period of grief and loss and possibly anger at Review for Religious their changed situations. The religious life is a voluntary choice, but still there is a loss of family, friends, status, and autonomy. What are the tools to process the transi-tion? How can new members communicate the extent of their loss to members who may never have had the same degree of freedom or experience in their lay life? * Legal Rights: Religious communities are expected to adhere to the civil and criminal statutes of the nations in which they live and work. Often this means certain expectations regarding privacy and protection that were not present in an earlier era. Violations could result in civil penalties or even in lawsuits from disgruntled for-mer members. Some courts in the United States are look-ing at the relationship between members and their communities in the light of employment law with all the obligations that entails. ¯ Conflicting Ethics: Before entering my community, I had been employed as a paralegal with a specialization in tax law. I was sometimes astonished by financial shenanigans I witnessed in churches and religious com-munities. It seemed that some religious or church author-ities believed they were not subject to the same ethical and legal obligations of other nonprofit corporations. If anything, the secular world showed a higher standard of ethics. Communities or institutions that were finally caught by government or church authorities have some-times received an expensive lesson in the ethics from which they thought themselves exempt. No number, however, can be put on people's loss of trust in religious bodies to which they had looked for a higher level of ethics and honor than they expect from the secular world. ¯ Minefields: New members cannot be aware of exist-ing interpersonal dynamics of the community. Some have reported stumbling into personality conflicts that had been going on for decades. Others have reported that 65.1 2006 Clear)/ ¯ Cballenges for Communities' New Members 4O differences of opinion among older members about for-mation methods resulted in new members' bearing the animosity of the losing side. ¯ Infantilization: When you are put in the position of having to ask for permission, of having your future decided by others, of having to please others at some level in order to be accepted, and of giving up much of your personal power, you have to a degree been infan-tilized. A formation director told me he believes that some infantilization of new members helps to surface immature elements of their personalities that can then be worked on. I was left with the impression that this was wishful thinking. A topic came up in the workshop that was not part of my original paper. People agreed that they had all expe-rienced instances of anger and depression due to the sit-uations described above. Many said they were conflicted because they felt their anger was somehow wrong, even though probably justified on a number of levels. Guilt haunted and paralyzed them. What could they do about these feelings of guilt? Unfortunately, this could not be dealt with in a ninety-minute workshop that was already rich in content. One Of my teachers, a Buddhist, once told me that he frequently contrasted the views of anger held by two religious leaders of great experience and deep insight. Pope John Paul II is said to have written, "I try not to get angry." The Dalai Lama is quoted as saying, "I try not to stay angry." These two approaches are perhaps valuable in tandem. On a personal note, a friend of mine once observed that, when it comes to anger, I may be unlucky in being of Irish and German descent. He said, "Irish and German: burn fast and burn long!" I try to bring that thought to mind when humor seems a remedy. Communities can be hard on their new members. The reverse is also true. A life-professed member of my Review for Religious community once said of a newly arrived postulant, "Ah! Another brother sent by God to test my vocation!" While serving as the curator of one of California's historic mis-sions, I was shown a document describing brothers not speaking to each other, undermining each other's min-istry, taking sides, complaining to religious and secular authorities, and showing every sign of advanced dys-functionality. Recent situation in one's own house? But this description pertained to the Franciscan mission in San Francisco in the 1790s. The more things change, the more they remain the same. One of my more insight-ful Jesuit teachers once asked a brother what gospel med-itation came to mind when he thought about community. He responded with apparent pain, "The agony in the garden of Gethsemane." Thomas Merton had his own difficult experiences with his abbot. St. John of the Cross was imprisoned by his community. We have all been there--usually the imprisonment is emotional. Where and what is the key to freedom? What miracle will bring healing and resurrection? We have a duty to speak the truth to our communities and work for the maturing of us all in Christ, even though we might not see any change in the behaviors that sadden, oppress, or anger us. A wise priest was counseling a young religious who was having a frightening time with his community and was trying to make the community see things from his perspective. After listening patiently and acknowledging the brother's wounds, he said, "Brother, you have assumed that the brothers you are struggling with are suddenly going to smack their foreheads and say, 'Oh my goodness! I never realized that! You are sooo right, and we are going to change our wicked ways.' Brother, you have assumed a level of health that is not in them. What are you doing to grow your own spiritual and emo-tional maturity?" Sometimes a person just has to outlive 65.1 2006 Cleary ¯ Challenges for Communities' New Members a situation. My bishop once told me that there is a say-ing in New Zealand among the Maori people: "Question: How do you get even with your komatua [tribal elder] ? Answer: Outlive him!" It reminds me of a Southern proverb in the United States, "Change comes by funer-als." I wanted to conclude this essay with some pithy wis-dom that would have universal application and solve all ills. Unfortunately, or fortunately, we Anglicans are bet-ter at the questions than the answers. As I was thinking out this section, I was on a long walk on a late summer day in New Zealand. The Maori name for this country is Aotearoa, land of the long white cloud. Our sky was true to its namesake with billowing white clouds in a flawless blue sky. My ears were full of the soaring con-clusion to Rachmaninov's Second Symphony coming from my CD player. My problems with my community, my community's problems, and my problems are still in place. But there is something greater at work that is soar-ing and unfolding within me. I pray that it is my faith, my hope, and hopefully my love that are growing and mak-ing community possible and actual both for me and those who have agreed to let me join my life to theirs. Review for Religious ROSEMARY STETS A Spirituality of Surrender A Jesuit's Story In 1964 Walter J. Ciszek, a Jesuit priest who had been ordained almost thirty years earlier to be a missionary in Russia, returned to the United States with an unbelievable story of faith and deliverance. In 1939 World War II began in Eastern Europe, and in 1941 Father Ciszek's mis-sion was cut short when Russian police arrested him and kept him in Lubianka Prison for five years, mostly in solitary confinement. Accused of being a Vatican spy, he was interrogated, beaten, forced to sign a false confession, and sen-tenced to fifteen years at hard labor. Sent to labor camps in Siberia, he secretly began a priestly ministry to fellow prisoners, men and women near despair in the inhumane conditions. During these years he lost all contaEt with his family and the Society of Jesus, but he never lost hope or faith in God's providence and protection. In a Rosemary Stets OSF is vice president for mission and ~nin-istry at Alvernia College; 400 Saint Bernardine Street; Reading, Pennsylvania 19607. inspiration 6Y.I 2006 Stets ¯ A Spirituality of Surrender A Jesuit's Story Father Walter could see all life's ~circumstances not just at eye level, but from a higher plane-- a position ofgrace and surrender. kind of miracle, through the efforts of his family and fel-low Jesuits working with the U.S. government, he was finally released from Russia and arrived in New York as a free man, a hero, beginning a mission in his homeland. When Father Ciszek returned to the United States, he was in relatively good health, considering all the hard-ship and suffering he had endured during his long years of captivity in Siberia. He was almost sixty years old, but still an active and fit man, writing books, giving retreats, travel-ing to parishes across the country, and meet-ing groups who invited him to speak about his life and his spirituality. He had always been a strong man, and he embraced his new life with energy and excite-ment. His correspon-dence was voluminous, and the phone calls were endless. Since Father Ciszek had two sisters in my congregation, he often visited our convents, sharing his personal spiritual journey with us and inviting many of us to continue the conversations. That was the beginning of my personal friendship with him, which lasted until his death in 1984. Shortly after his return, along with the ever increas-ing demands on his time for talks and retreats, Father Walter began writing his autobiography With God in Russia. A few years later he wrote another book, He Leadetb Me, this one emphasizing the spiritual struggles of his journey, In just a few years he had more commit-ments than he could manage, but kept working. A decade Review for Religious later he suffered two major heart attacks and his health began to fail. . During the last decade of his life he had to modify his schedule and pace at a time when, because of his books and his media appearances, he was probably in greater demand than ever. These restrictions frustrated him because of his deep compassion for others and his gen-erosity toward all who sought his advice and spiritual counsel. But ultimately the changes required by his declining health led him to the spirituality of surrender. Change, it seems, is something most of us greet with reluctance, especially if we are comfortable or content with the way things are in the present. We like to feel that we are "in control" and that things are going well, or going the way we want them to go. And so we are jarred and unnerved when our world turns upside down, overwhelms us, makes us feel helpless. One day, as his health became worse and his sched-ule was accordingly being reduced, Father Walter shared with me during a telephone conversation some of his spiritual response at this difficult time. This was not unusual, for Father Walter moved easily from the natu-ral to the supernatural, and he could see all life's cir-cumstances not just at eye level, but from a higher plane--a position of grace and surrender. As he spoke, I was suddenly inspired to make some notes on the conversation, writing down his words and phrases, listening intently and trying to capture the essence of what he was saying. Afterwards I took the lit-tle scrap of paper with the words I had written and put it in my daily prayer book. As I read the words over and over, I realized they were like prayers themselves, but something more. Whenever I felt overcome by the frus-trations of life, by anger, by annoyance with others, or by sudden dark moods like a summer storm on a lake, I 6Y.I 2006 Stets ¯ A Spirituality of Surrender--A Jesuit's Story ,46] would turn to those words for.comfort and strength. A profound peace would return after I entered fully into the spirit of what I was reading. It seemed that chains fell away from my heart. It was as if a door opened, a prison door that had kept me confined and helpless. I felt joy return. My heart felt light again. It was not just a mental understanding, not just a letting go in my mind, but a sense of surrender which lifted my spirit out of the darkness and into a place of spiritual light. As I surren-dered to God in this prayer, I would sense that I was united with Jesus in his abandonment in the garden. I believe I was united.with God's will in those nanosec-onds. A "yes" to the Father was a leap of faith to a new place. It would give me strength to begin a new task, a natural and spontaneous freedom to let go and move on. It would amaze me: the peace was palpable. Many years ago I shared this story with a friend who was going through a difficult struggle, and she was so moved by the simplicity and peace of the words I had jot-ted down that she asked for a copy. I typed it on a small card, calling it the Prayer of Surrender. We soon were mak-ing more copies and giving them to other friends, who also grew to love and value this prayer, Several years later, after the cause for Father Walter Ciszek's canonization had been opened, I sent my notes, letters, and writings about Father Walter to the Prayer League charged with organizing the materials for his cause. The postulator found the Prayer of Surrender in my notes and decided to distribute it through the Prayer League. This is the prayer that has become my daily bread, the prayer I offer to everyone who is desperate for God's help, going under, barely hanging on. It is a prayer filled with wisdom. It does not remove our suffering, but rather it gives us the courage to accept it without anger or fear. Saying the prayer .during times of intense suffering can Review for Religious be difficult, almost heroic, but each time it enables me to emerge whole, strong, and at peace. Father Walter expe-rienced great suffering in his life, in his long sojourn in Russia and in many trying moments that circled his life like a crown of thorns--and like the pains, humiliations, loneliness, and losses that afflict us all. But suffering was also his banner of glory, uniting him to Jesus, who endured everything for us out of love, the love that saved the world. The Prayer of Surrender is Father Waiter's gift to all of us, a moment of grace remembered and passed on to those who love him, cherish his memory, and seek to understand with him that surrender to God's provi-dence is the way to sublime joy, the grand freedom of finding God in all things. Prayer of Surrender Lord, Jesus Christ, I ask the grace to accept the sad-ness in my heart as your will for me, in this moment. I offer it up, in union with your sufferings, for those who are in deepest need of your redeeming grace. I surrender myself to your Father's will, and I ask you to help me to move on to the next task that you have set for me. Spirit of Christ, help me to enter into a deeper union with you. Lead me away from dwelling on the hurt I feel, to thoughts of charity for those who need my love, to thoughts of compassion for those who need my care, and to thoughts of giving yo those who need my help. As I give myself to you, help me to provide for the salvation of those who come to me in need. May I find my healing in this giving. May I always accept God's will. May I find my true self by living for others in a spirit of sacrifice and suffering. May I die more fully to myself, and live more fully in you. As I seek to surrender to the Father's will, may I come to trust that he will do everything for me. Amen. 6Y.1 2006 GIOVANNI ZEVOLA Two Mysteries in One: Implications for Ministry 48 All who are involved in ministry would say that the Bible is a source of strength for their own spirituality and for their pastoral ministry. Biblical themes support our dedication, our zeal, our commitment to people and situations demanding attention and care. In this article I will show that the Bible is not only a source of texts to use in particular circumstances of the ministry,~ but also a pure and continuous fount of spiritual life especially for the those in pastoral ministry. Biblical themes and figures of the Old and New Testament are familiar to pastoral caregivers, and we all may have heartfelt favorites in our own spiritual life. For the various situations that may occur in pastoral care, some biblical figures and themes have special pertinence. For example, the Exodus experience, Samuel's vocation, the social concerns in the prophetic literature, Zacchaeus's desire to see Jesus, and the Holy Spirit overshadowing Mary can be signs "of certain hope and comfort to the pilgrim people of God" (Lumen gentium, §68). Giovanni Zevola OMI continues doing apostolic work in South Korea. His address is 196-51 Yuhyun Dong; Kang Nam Ku; Seoul 135-210; South Korea. Review for Religious Mary can be considered from different points of view, and the few passages of the New Testament where she is mentioned can be sources for understanding our role as disciples and cooperators in the economy of salvation. One meaningful passage is the Visitation recorded in Luke 1:39-56. The verse "During those days Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste to a town of Judah" motivated my vocation many years ago. I joined a missionary congregation to dedicate myself to a life of service, and that verse still inspires my life and commitment to the poor. Through the years Mary's attitude of service has informed my spirit, and new insights have helped me grow spiritually and as a human being. The words "she went as quickly as she could" caught my attention and fostered my desire to share with others my sense of the presence of God in my life. I was convinced that, like Mary, we should not keep our own Annunciation for ourselves, but should share it with others through what we do--and doing what we do without delay, "in haste." Mary is the perfect disciple who shares her Master's concerns, values, and attitudes. In Mark's Gospel, Jesus is presented on the scene right away, being baptized by John and proclaiming "The time (kairos) has come," there has to be no delay. Jesus is shown to be in a constant hurry, particularly in chapter one, where it is interesting to note the Greek word euthus. Immediately the Spirit descends on him (1:10) at the baptism. Immediately the Spirit drives him out into the desert (1:12). Simon and Andrew leave their nets at once and follow him (1:18). Immediately he calls James and John (1:20). As soon as the Sabbath comes, he goes to the synagogue to teach, and just then performs a miracle (1:23). His reputation rapidly spreads everywhere (1:28), and he goes straight to cure Peter's mother-in-law (1:29). 6Y.1 2006 Zevola ¯ Two Mysteries in One the force of God's grace : brought to: her in the Annuncia ion,,qnd she becomes a messenger " ff good new.s. In the Visitation, Mary shares Christ's attitude. There is an urgency in proclaiming the good news she has just received through the angel. In Luke 1:26-38 she is presented as the recipient of God's grace, and she becomes the active subject who cannot contain what she has received. She goes to ' -~'~ share it. (Recall here Paul is surfing by . saying "The love of ~. Christ impels us," 2 Co 5:14.) In Mary we see how a disciple is called to announce that "the time has come": the divine project that God has prepared is coming to its maturation and is being made known, and so there is no more delay. Paul expresses the same idea in Galatians 4:4-5: "Vv'hen the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to ransom those under the law, so that we might receive adoption." Perhaps I can express all of this in an image. Think of a surfer waiting for a big wave to come in. When the right time comes, he rides it and enjoys the surfing--a combination of ability (human effort) and force of the wave (grace). In Luke 1:39 Mary is surfing by the force of God's grace brought to her in the Annunciation, and she becomes a messenger of good news. "During those days Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste to a town of Judah." The wave made by the wind of God's Spirit is for everyone. Every disciple of every age has to surf that wave; in doing so we are blessed. See Romans 10:15: "How beautiful are the feet of those who announce good news," how welcome the Review for Religious sound! The personal relationship we have with God is not something we can keep for ourselves; it is a gift to be shared. God invites us to the communion (koinonia) of those called by his grace. The personal relationships in the life of the Trinity should be reflected in our human relationships. For a pastoral caregiver, contemplation and action go together. The vertical relationship of us with God is connected with our horizontal relationships with one another. We are called to do "contempl-action." At the very beginning of the church, in the upper room where Mary and the other disciples are gathered, this doubleness is already present. They receive the Spirit and share the mission of Jesus to proclaim the Good News. Perhaps we can imagine Mary showing the eleven how to ride this new wave of the Spirit and thereby fulfill Jesus' promise: "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you, and then you will be my witnesses not only in Jerusalem but throughout Judea and Samaria, and indeed to the ends of the earth,' (Ac 1:9). Mary belongs indissolubly to the mystery of Christ, and she belongs also to the mystery of the church from the beginning, from the day of the church's birth. At the basis of what the church has been from the beginning, and of what she must continually become from generation to generation, in the midst of all the nations of the earth, we find the one "who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord" (Lk 1:45).~It is precisely Mary's faith which marks the beginning of the new and eternal covenant of God with man in Jesus Christ; this heroic faith of hers "precedes" the apostolic witness of the church, and ever remains in the church's heart hidden like a special heritage of God's revelation. All those who from generation to generation accept the apostolic witness of the church share in that mysterious inheritance, and in a sense share in Mary's faith. (Redemptoris Mater, §27) 65.1 2006 Zevola ¯ Two Mysteries in One With the inner conviction that Annunciation (experience of God) precedes any Visitation (our apostolate or any form of pastoral care), some years ago I was sent to the Philippines for a missionary experience. What I had received (experience of God through the years of seminary formation) I was ready to share with people in my ministry, and there, through a crisis, God's grace brought a deeper understanding. I could not expect my past experience of God to provide me with enough of what people needed from me. I had to be always open to new Annunciations because we can share only what we have at the moment. My personal contact with the poor (Visitation) was a deeper way for me to experience God. The poor were giving me occasions to take notice of God's Annunciations to me and to receive deeper understandings of them. It was like Mary visiting Elizabeth and, during her time with her, coming to further understanding of the meaning of the Annuciation. She was, in the words of her older cousin, blessed for being mother of the Lord and particularly for her faith in the promise. At this moment the Spirit evokes Mary's Magnificat. Everything was already present at the Annunciation, but comes to light at the Visitation like a seed expressing its vitality gradually. Through my experiences in the Philippines, I came to understand that Annunciation and Visitation are not two separate moments, but only one mystery: the Spirit introducing us into the mystery of Christ. In pastoral care we do not go to others with something already cooked. We might already have the necessary ingredients, but it is the interaction that makes it complete. William Barry says something similar when he considers Jesus interacting with his disciples at Caesarea Philippi (Mt 16:13-20), where Jesus seems to come to a better understanding of his identity: "Could it not be that Jesus needs the disciples' response in order to clarify his Review for Religious own sense of his identity and destiny? . . . Jesus, like any human being, could not establish his identity without the help of others. Looked at in this way, this scene shows that Jesus needs Peter's response to 'confirm' his own sense of mission.''2 Elizabeth does this for Mary, and it is similar for any disciple following in Jesus' footsteps. The Annunciation and Visitation considered as but one mystery show that faith is a journey on which we increasingly come to understand and live the fullness of our vocation. Particularly in Luke, Mary is presented as a woman of reflection upon her life experiences (see Lk 1:29, 2:19, 2:33, and 2:51). In so doing she progresses in faith, like Abraham: Mary's faith can also be compared to that of Abraham, whom St. Paul calls "our father in faith" (see Rm 4:12). In the salvific economy of God's revelation, Abraham's faith constitutes the beginning of the Old Covenant; Mary's faith at the Annunciation inaugurates the New Covenant . Certainly the Annunciation is the culminating moment of Mary's faith in her awaiting of Christ, but it is also the point of departure from which her whole "journey towards God" begins, her whole pilgrimage of faith. (Redemptoris Mater, § 14) This insight invites me to review my tmderstanding of pastoral care and particularly the relationship I establish with the people whom I am called to serve. They are not only the recipients of my attention and commitment, but also my companions on the journey. It is this dimension of faith that gives and renews the strength necessary to be witnesses in caregiving situations and ultimately frees us of the idea that we are the ones fixing problems, that we are the saviors. In fact, our caregiving becomes a kind of school, a place where we learn more about ourselves, other people, and God, who in this school fosters a more intimate relationship with us. The caregiver is also a visitor and guest. The whole history of salvation reads 65.1 2006 Zevola * Two Mysteries in One like a series of moments when God visits his people. Jesus himself was always on the go: "Let us go elsewhere to the neighboring towns." Without any fixed abode, he lives a life of continual visiting. And no sooner is Mary visited from on high than she makes all possible haste to .visit her cousin Elizabeth. She, the visited one, becomes the visitor. There is a missionary dynamic here, for us as well as for Mary. As visitors and guests among those we minister to, we listen differendy, more attentively; we dialogue and tell our stories differently; we become present to others in new ways, ways that make dialogue, shared existence, and even revelation possible. In short, we come empty-handed like Jesus, the vulnerable visitor from heaven, and this can perhaps serve as the reason for our hope. Recently, while working in South Korea (another Visitation), I recognized anew that people are agents of the Spirit inviting me to understand more deeply the message that I would Announce to them. Late in the evening we were driving back to the office after a day visiting the company where Mohamed had had an accident while operating a pressing machine. After a long discussion with the manager, the possibility for this Bangladeshi worker to get insurance was now more concrete. Mohamed and one of his friends invited me to supper in a small restaurant. Suddenly he asked me something that surprised me: "Father, why are you doing this for us?" At first I did not know what to say, because my motivation for the ministry with the foreign workers was something I had not talked about. Finally I said, "My experience of God is at the core of this or any other ministry." I was surprised when Mohamed seemed to agree and reinforce my answer. Mohamed's question had forced me to reconnect theology and ministry as the source and goal of any Review for Religious apostolate. Through reflecting upon our pastoral experience, we learn anew that God's call is the source of our commitment within the church. This led me (Mk 8:14-21) to Jesus, in the boat with his disciples, subtly referring them to his recent feeding of two large crowds and then asking, "Do you still not see or comprehend?. Do you still not understand?" It is theology and ministry together that enable people's faith to recognize God's presence right before their eyes. If ministers focus only on their ministerial activities, they are likely to end up implementing nothing but their own plans and projects. The theological reflection has a double movement, namely, (1) our going to the experience for reflection and (2) coming back for a serene and more objective evaluation. A particular pastoral experience be-comes the stuff for reflecting upon the min-istry that we are involved in. We make a point of noticing that God was present in the experience and how God was present. !t is !heology and ministry together that enable people's faith to recognize, God's presence fright before their eyes. It is in this movement, in the connecting of theology with the experience, that we can "interpret" and "name" the experience lived in faith. The experience thus interpreted and clarified tells more than we originally expected: our experience enriches our theology. Theology and pastoral care, encountering each other in the pastoral experience, are reciprocally enriched.3 Theology enables us to understand God's presence as continuing through time, like the continuing mystery of the incarnation. Pastoral care gives us the here and now in which we can readily find the divine presence revealing itself. 6Y. 1 2006 Zevola ¯ Two Mysteries in One The theological reflection adds depth to the richness of the experience, which otherwise might be quickly forgotten. On the other hand, pastoral care gives theological reflection something very real and concrete from which to get a lively idea of God working, working along with us in the human experience. Mary has been for me a model and now is more of a companion in my pilgrimage of faith, reminding me that Annunciation and Visitation are parts of one wonderful mystery. In everything, like Mary, we can give only what we have received. On this truth Henri Nouwen is very explicit: "To help, to serve, to care, to guide, to heal, these words . . . express a reaching out toward our neighbor whereby we perceive life as a gift not to possess but to share." 4 Notes ~ See D. Capps, Pastoral Use and Interpretations of the Bible, in Dictionary of Pastoral Care and Counseling, ed. R. Hunter (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1990), pp. 82-85. 2 See W. Barry, God's Passionate Desire and Our Response (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1993), p. 101. 3 See R. Kinast, Pastoral Theology, Roman Catholic, in Dictionary of Pastoral Care and Counseling, pp. 873-874. 4 H. Nouwen, Reaching Out (New York: Doubleday Image Books, 1986), p. 109. Review for Religious ROBERT P. MALONEY Truth: Religious Simplicity Revisited E veryone needs a guiding star, but the stars in the ky are countless. Saints have chosen different ones. Jerome focused on the Scriptures: "Love the Holy Scriptures, and wisdom will love you." Francis of Assisi fixed on God's love in the gifts of creation and the cru-cified Lord, praising God in Brother Sun and Sister Moon and uniting himself with suffering humanity. Vincent de Paul, especially as he grew older, chose sim-plicity, or truthfulness, as the star to guide him to know what to say and do. "It is the virtue I love most," he wrote to a priest-friend, Franqois de Coudray. "It is my gospel," he told the Daughters of Charity, the commu-nity he founded with Louise de Marillac. There are many conte~nporary ways of describing simplicity: authenticity, integrity, genuineness, realness, passion for the truth. In the two sections that follow, I Robert P. Maloney CM, having served for-two terms as superior gen-eral of the Congregation of the Mission, works as project administra-tor for D.R.E.A.M., a joint project of the Community of Sant'Egidio and the Daughters of Charity for combating aids in Africa. His address is Theological College; 401 Michigan Avenue N.E.; Washington, D.C. 20017. 6~. 1 2006 Maloney * Truth: Religious Simplicity Revisited will focus first on simplicity as "being in the truth" with God, with oneself; with others, and with the created uni-verse surrounding us. Then I will discuss combining the simplicity of the dove with the prudence of the serpent. Simplicity as "Being in the Truth" There is a wonderful freedom in those who live sim-ply. They project joy and peaceful confidence. One of the most popular hymns in the English-speaking world, Joseph Brackett's "Simple Gifts," began proclaiming in 1848: "'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free." Simplicity involves making God our ultimate concern, identifying our will with what God is asking. Vincent de Paul remarked rather wryly to Louise de Marillac: "How easy it is to become a saint. The only thing necessary is to do the will of God in everything." For simple persons the kingdom of God becomes the focal point of their life, the ideal that integrates all that they are and do. Of course, growth in single-minded-ness before God, in purity of intention, is a lifelong pro-cess. Our sinfulness continually interrupts our unity with God's purposes. Limited objectives like self-promotion easily distract us from our single-minded pursuit of God's kingdom; even worse, they may substitute for it. In our sinful condition, we are never able to pull our lives together into a perfect opus, finished once and for all. Even those who seem to have done so fall often, some-times badly. Our final integrity comes only from God's forgiving, healing love. It is a gift. In commenting on the simplicity and purity of inten-tion that he had witnessed in the Shaker tradition, Thomas Merton once wrote, "The peculiar grace of a Shaker chair is due to the fact that it was made by some-one capable of believing that an ~ngel might come and sit on it." That sentence is surely worth meditating on. In Review for Religious religious life, many helps have been offered for being in the truth with God: the daily Eucharist, daily mental prayer, and daily examination of conscience are among the most prominent. Human beings are social beings. Human relation-ships are not just an add-on. They make us who we are, forming us gradually. Having friends, falling in love, building a family, joining a community, being part of a nation, an institution, a movement--all these forms of union with others are possible only if there is truth-filled communication. In fact, the English word truth is related etymologi-cally to trust, faithfulness, covenant. Older English-speaking readers may recall the now archaic marriage o tr thfut-reiationships ' with others; implicity - ;:, :haS,its:most: obvious meaning: hoheStg: promise: "I plight unto thee my troth,", which we might translate today as: "I pledge to you my truth (my word, my trust, my commitment)." In fact, we still speak of a promise to marry as "betrothal." In truthful relationships with others, simplicity has its most obvioias meaning: honesty. Trust in the word of another is the condition for life together, for friendship, marriage, community, business ventures, and all sorts of other relationships. Lies bring about the disintegration of communities, the fracture of marriages, the downfall of governments. Lies are not just verbal; they may be present in actions. Marriages collapse through infidelity. Families break down through covert, competing interests. Friendships unravel through secret betrayal. Being in the truth keeps people together; falsehood tears us apart. To put it tersely, simplicity unites; duplicity divides. 6Y.I 2006 Maloney ¯ Truth: Religious Simplicity Revisited 6O Necessary as it is, speaking the truth with consis-tency in religious life is difficult. We are tempted to blur the truth for our own convenience or to avoid being embarrassed. It is difficult to be enduringly true to our word when circumstances change. In the present our statements are true or false right then and there, but, when we make a commitment for the future, it is true only if we keep it true. Truth is fidelity. It is especially in this sense that Jesus is true to us. He promises to be, and is, with us always, even to the end. We too are called to be true in this way--to vows, to friendships, and to our commitments to serve. Thomas Merton once wrote: "We make ourselves real by telling the truth." The truth at the core of each human person strives to emerge. When we express the truth, we construct and reveal our true self. When we distort the truth, we damage not just our relationship with others, but the center of our own being too. Being in the truth with our own self is, of course, vitally related to being in the truth with God and being in the truth with others. BUt our own truth is nevertheless distinctive. There is a distinctive giftedness, a personal vocation from God, that we may not renounce, but must treasure. Simplicity calls us to integrity, authenticity. But, as we journey in quest of personal wholeness, most of us expe-rience our own fracturedness. We sense inner contra-dictions, a broken center, cracks in our personality; sometimes we fall apart. Philosophy, psychology, and sociology have described polarities that people sense within themselves: body/mind, feeling/thinking, heart/ head, unconscious/conscious. Being true to oneself is not as easy as it might seem. Accurate self-knowledge is rare, as Robert Burns elo-quently noted: "O wad some Power the giftie gie us / To see oursels as ithers see us! / It wad frae mony a blun- Review for Religious der free us, / An' foolish notion: / What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us, / An' ev'n devotion!" Knowing oneself accurately is essential in life. The philosopher Wittgenstein observed: "You cannot write anything about yourself that is more truthful than you yourself are. That is the difference between writing about yourself and writing about external objects. You write about yourself from your own height. You don't stand on stilts or on a ladder but on your bare feet." Regular confession and the relationship we call "spir-itual direction" are very important means toward self-knowledge. A perceptive confessor or spiritual guide can be a mirror, reflecting back to us what we are not able to see on our own. Speaking the truth is especially impor-tant in such relationships. We choose a "soul friend" so that, with his or her help, we may grow in the Lord's life and in discerning those things which promote God's kingdom. It is imperative, therefore, that this relationship be characterized by free self-disclosure and by the avoid-ance of "hidden corners" in our lives. We need others to echo back to us what is happening or not happening on our journey toward the Lord. The quality of spiri-tual guidance will depend largely upon the simplicity with which we disclose ourselves. Philosophers and theologians have recognized from the earliest times that human existence is inseparable from matter. We are not pure spirit, but have bodies. The philosopher Merleau-Ponty reminds us: "I am my body." We are also related to and dependent on the earth. In a certain sense, as Genesis suggests in the creation story, we come from the earth. Food, water, air, sunshine, and other elements are nutrients of our human existence. Consequendy, if we are to be in truth with God as the Creator, with ourselves as incomplete beings, and with others, we must also be in truth with the created uni- 65.1 2006 Maloney * Truth: Religious Simplicity Revisited verse that is our home. In other words, being fully human involves caring for the earth. In broader terms it means caring for the surrounding universe, whose proportions are staggering and even incomprehensible to us. We do not yet have a comprehensive ecological the-ology, but some of its foundation stones are quite visible and have been set for centuries in Christian tradition: ¯ the presence of God in all creation; ¯ the goodness of all that God has made; ¯ God's providence in accompa-nying history and ongoing creation; ¯ the gratitude, won-der, contemplation, and care for God's gifts that people have as a response to God's gifts. Those who live close to the land often see its impor-tance more vividly than others. When in 1851 the pres-ident of the United States, Franklin Pierce, proposed to buy two million acres of land from the Indian tribes around Puget Sound in the present state of Washington, Chief Seattle (after whom the state's principal city is named) reacted. His famous reflections from the 1850s, about which some historians raise doubts, are neverthe-less a most eloquent environmental statement: Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist on the dark woods, every clearing and humming insect is holy in the memory and experiences of my people . We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters; the deer, the horse, the great eagle, these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the juices in the meadows, the body heat of the pony and man--all belong to the same family. We will consider your offer to buy our land. But it will not be easy. For this land is sacred to us. This shining water that moves in the streams and rivers is not just water but the blood of our ancestors. If we sell you the land, you must remember that it is sacred, and you must teach your children that it is ~acred and that each ghostly reflection in the clear water of the lakes tells of events and memories in the life of my peo-l~ eview for Religious pie. The water's murmur is the voice of my father's father . You must teach your children that the rivers are our brothers and yours, and you must henceforth give the rivers the kindness you would give any brother. These words were prophetic. Polluted rivers, con-taminated air, and depleted forests rank high among the problems of modern society. In this matter, as in many others, immediate gratification often wins out over long-range goals. But when the environment is neglected, society pays a heavy price, with the poor suffering most. In many places where religious missionaries serve, eco-logical deterioration adds to the crushing burdens of the neediest of the needy. The Simplicity of the Dove and the Prudence of the Serpent Even for those with a bright guiding star, Christian living is filled with paradoxes: initiative/obedience, flex-ibility/ stability, listening/advising, animating/directing, creativity/humility, trusting/planning, serving/govern-ing, simplicity/prtidence. Matthew's Gospel recognizes that the simplicity of the dove must cohabit, in the same person, with the prudence of the serpent. And in life people's common sense and prudence quickly teach them that they cannot simply speak the unabashed truth at all times. Experience teaches us that virtues like truthful-ness, charity, and respect for the privacy and good name of others at times "compete" with one another. In moments of apparent conflict, prudence enables us to balance and blend such competing virtues. Over the centuries moral theologians have written volumes on the dilemmas that arise in the context of truth-telling. Below I simply offer a few reflections on three of the most common moral dilemmas that reli-gious and all those committed to truth-telling face. 6L 1 2006 Maloney * Truth: Religioux Simplicity Revisited Growing in love involves penetrating to the ddep truth of the beloved, Truth derives from God. It is related to beauty. But the expression of "truths" can sometimes be ugly, cold, arro-gant, and angry. Declarations like "I'm just telling you the truth!" can be a facile excuse for harsh words or an escape valve for pent-up rage. In the Christian tradition truth and love are inseparable. Growing in love involves penetrating to the deep truth of the beloved, coming to understand others not just on the surface but deep down. Likewise, growing in truth involves moving toward deeper communion, overcoming dif-ferences, "looking for the larger truth that embraces my little truth and that of the other," as Timothy Radcliffe reminds us. There is a delicate interplay between mind and heart in the search for truth. For those with a highly intellectual formation, Pascal's corrective can be helpful: "The heart has its rea-sons, which reason does not know. We feel it in a thousand things." Antoine de Saint-Exup~ry in The Little Prince expresses the same conviction: "It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." The problem is that we sometimes use "the truth" to massacre others. Under the pretext of being sincere, we destroy truth with "the truth." In a striking essay, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who was himself a martyr for the truth, wrote as follows: If it is detached from life and from its reference to the concrete other person, if "the truth is told" with-out taking into account to whom it is addressed, then this truth has only the appearance of truth, but it lacks its essential character. Review for Religious It is only the cynic who claims "to speak the truth" at all times and in all places to all people in the same way, but who, in fact, displays nothing but a lifeless image of the truth. He dons the halo of the fanatical devotee of truth who can make no allowance for human weaknesses; but, in fact, he is destroying the living truth between persons. He wounds shame, des-ecrates mystery, breaks confidence, betrays the com-munity in which he lives, and laughs arrogantly at the devastation he has wrought and at the human weakness which "cannot bear the truth." We must learn to speak the truth while taking other truths into account: the dignity of other persons, their human weakness and ours as well, the love that must characterize all Christian relationships. Our statement of a truth must blend with these other truths. Speaking the truth is therefore.a delicate art rather than a blunt instrument. Very early in life we learn that it is sometimes harm-ful to tell the truth. Our parents teach us as children that some personal and family matters are private; others have no right to know about them. As we grow up, friends begin to entrust secrets to us. As problems arise in our own lives, we ourselves sense the need to talk with some-one, but only on the condition that what we say is kept utterly confidential. These universal human experiences have given rise to a whole body of ethical and legal liter-ature concerning truth-telling, secrecy, and confidential-ity. Confessors and spiritual directors, doctors and nurses, psychiatrists and counselors, lawyers, secretaries, jour-nalists, and many others are bound, in varying circum-stances and within various limits, to professional secrecy. Paradoxically, we have a moral obligation to tell the truth, but we sometimes have a moral obligation not to tell the truth. This is often the case in religious life, where others frequently entrust us with matters of con- 6Y.1 2006 MMoney ¯ Truth: Religious Simplicity Revisited ,66 science and where there are also many "family matters" that are private and should remain within the community. So how does one protect private, even "sacred" truths? Silence, of course, is often the most effective method. In some cases, in the face of inappropriate inquiries, we may be able to communicate, with a combination of gen-tleness and firmness, the delicacy of our situation: "I am sorry, I am not really free to talk about that. I hope you understand." Sometimes, too, with a little bit of inge-nuity, we may say something that some or all recognize as good.humoredly evasive. But for centuries philosophers and theologians have pointed out that there are situations where silence or evasion simply make matters worse and where the right course seems to be to dissemble the truth. To resolve such moral dilemmas, Thomists, defining moral truth as correspondence between what we think and what we say, used the "broad mental reservation." Others, defining truth in relational terms (communication of what is in one's mind to someone who has a right to know), per-mitted "false speech" when utterly necessary to put off those who have no right to know. Neither theory is ideal. Each, in fact, has notable weaknesses. But both recognize that at times there is a moral obligation to "protect" the truth and to put off importunate, inappropriate inquiries, even by misleading the inquirer. In the end, strange though it may seem, one must "learn" to tell the truth. Each word has its own place, its own time, its own audience. Much depends on who is calling me to speak and what entitles me to speak. One of the most poignant, and wise, lines in American liter-ature is what Hester Prynne says to her daughter, Pearl, in The Scarlet Letter (chapter 22): "Hold thy peace, dear little Pearl. We must not always talk in the market-place of what happens to us in the forest." Review for Religious Statements involve a relationship with the person being addressed and at times also with third parties. The truth-teller respects those relationships and maintains them. The nosey inquirer seeks to violate truth and intrude on relationships that truth fosters carefully. It is important to learn how to put such inquirers off, and to put them off well. Truths not only have their time, their place, and their proper audience; they have their own particular peda-gogy. Certain truths have their "moment" in history. Victor Hugo once pointed out that, when an idea's time has come, not even armies can resist it. But, until that time, "new" truths enter most minds and hearts slowly. As mothers and fathers instinctively know, the wise teacher must often wait for the right moment and the right place. I once gave a rather pacifist-sounding con-ference to a group of college students, who loved it. A few days later I gave the same conference to a parish group, which hated it. The time and place were almost the same, but I learned rather painfully that a new audi-ence often requires a new pedagogy. How to present the truth is the key question. This question becomes all the more important as we grow in consciousness that our goal in speaking is not merely the transmission of data but communication and commu-nion in the truth. From that perspective pedagogy is not just a clever means of packaging a "truth" well; rather, it is an integral part of communicating a truth to the other. Emily Dickinson puts it this way: "Tell all the Truth but tell it slant. The Truth must dazzle gradually." This lesson is especially important for teachers who think they have done their job when they have lectured for an hour, citing all the facts and uttering all the "truths." But they must ask themselves whether they have communicated truth or simply uttered it in front 65.1 2006 Malone)/ ¯ Truth: Religious Simplicity Revisited of an inattentive audience. Method is important. Teachers must often reflect not only on the content they wish to communicate, but also on the m~ans for communicat-ing it. The same is true of parents, friends, counselors, and others who must sometimes communicate truths which they know hearers will find it hard to accept. The Greek ~ord for truth, al~theia, means "uncov-ering." Speaking the truth opens us out. What lies within us comes forth. In speaking truthfully we disclose what otherwise remains hidden in our depths. In Greek mythology the goddess of truth puts two pathways before Parmenides: one of uncovering and one of hiding. It is only by "uncovering" that one's true self emerges. The New Testament states this very clearly: "Put on a new self, created in God's image, whose justice and holiness is born of truth" (Ep 4:21). Prayer Reflection Ponder the words of the hymn (perhaps sing it to yourself): Simple Gifts Shaker Hymn Written by Shaker Elder Joseph Brackett, Jr., in 1848 'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free, 'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be, And when we find ourselves in the place just right, "Twill be in the valley of love and delight. When true simplicity is gain'd, To bow and to bend we shan't be asham'd. Review for Religious To turn, turn will be our delight, Till by turning, turning we come round right. Group Discussion Share situations where you have found that you are com-promised in telling the truth. What kind qf principles did you use in the situation for your way of acting? The Not-So-Holy Grail The commonest cup may serve. As chalice for the King. Even now he pours the wine Until the heart can hold no more. See the crimson And taste the death That is our life. Teresa Burleson 65.1 2006 DAVID L. FLEMING Sharing God the Ignatian Way I n speaking about God, we each have our own way of rying to express our experience. Christian, non- Christian, Eastern, Western approaches differ and yet often point in directions that move in similar ways towards the same goal--a union or an identifying with God. In this reflection, we are trying to share among our-selves the richness of our experience of God as we have received help from Ignatius Loyola, particularly guided by the experiences of the Spiritual Exercises. There is no doubt that Ignatius has been able to enter us into an experience of God that has some specific characteristics that mark what is now identified as Ignatian spirituality. We need to remember that no Christian spirituality is so unique in its characteristics that we do not find it rooted in the Gospels. But characteristics special to a particular spirituality such as Ignatian include the kind of emphasis given to certain aspects or areas, the intercon-nections of elements, and the vision and imagery that David L. Fleming sJ is editor of this journal. He may be addressed at 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Review for Religious become the vehicle moving this particular spirituality. Let us review some of these characteristics of Ignatian spirituality from our experience. We experience a God of gifts. The Ignatian Principle and Foundation is not presenting just a picturing of a creator God. Ignatius provides a fuller picture. In creat-ing, God has chosen us and gifts us that we might choose God through the means of the gifts that are meant to help us to know and to love God. This God has created a human world of gifts-- all provided for us that we might come to know and love God the better. Of course, with so many gifts provided, we find it necessary to make choices, even in terms of developing and using the personal gifts of talents and abilities that God has given to each one of us. Ignatius brings home to us that life is choice, and our choosing is always directed towards God. What does it mean for us to choose God in return? Do we share the God that gifts us with this responsibility? We experience that God is always trying to speak, to communicate with us, through his gifts. As a lover, God does not just speak words to us, even in Scripture. God acts, and his deeds are his expressions of love for us. Ignatius helps us to make the world transparent so that God and God's love shines through the whole of cre-ation. God is not a silent God. For Ignatius, God is always a God in conversation. Are we people who are attentive to God's communicating with us? Do we share with others our experience of this kind of an intimate God? "For'Ignat the. seven days of creation are all vart of God's .,:presence to,us. .71 65.1 2006 Fleming ¯ Sharing God the Ignatian Way 72] We experience God as One who is active and involved with his world--a busy God. Ignatius does not literally understand the six days of creation with God being very active on each of six days and then on the seventh day resting. So that, for many people, God stayed that way--restingmever since! No, for Ignatius, the seven days of creation are all part of God's presence to us. It is all part of God's Now. When Jesus says, ."My Father works, and I work," Ignatius believes him. The dynamic of creation continues and God works. This God, ever active and working with us and with his world--is this the God we share? We experience God in Jesus inviting us to be with him in his work identified as the coming of the kingdom or the reign of God~ In the Pauline mysterious image of the pleroma we know that God intends a certain fullness or completion to his creation, and we human beings---~e ones he loves--are called to play our part within this movement. Does our praying "Thy kingdom come" inspire us in our response to God's invitation to work with God so that the kingdom shines out through our dealings and activities in our ordinary world? Is our working with God in the vineyard of the kingdom the God we share? We experience a God who waits upon our response to this invitation. Just as God waits upon Mary for her response to God's invitation to allow herself to be his mother, so God waits upon each one of us in a similar way to allow ourselves to bring God's life to the world in which we live. Like Mary, we are to have a growing inti-macy with Jesus, and because of his risen life Jesus desires an intimacy that knows no boundaries. Do we share a God who is patient, long-suffering, who waits, for our hesitant and often waffling response? Do we share a God who delights in intimacy with us? Review for Reli~ous We experience our living and working with God. Working does not take us away from our God since God is a busy God, and, being busy, we are right alongside him. Praying, too, flows naturally in a relationship with .a God who converses in so many ways, if we but learn to listen--as when we take time to pray. And so Ignatius shares with us a union with God in the contemplative action of praying and working. There is a wholeness--a unity--in our life that does not take us away from God. Do we live, like Jesus, as contemplatives in action? Is this the God we share? If, in Ignatian spirituality, these are some of the ways we experience God and are moved to share God with others, we need to observe next how this experience flows into how we act. For Ignatian spirituality is above all caught up in a "way of proceeding." Some spiritual-ities identify themselves with a certain horarium--a daily order of set prayers at certain time, such as the Liturgy of the .Hours, one practice that marks a monastic approach to life. Some spiritualities revolve around cer-tain devotional practices, whether so many rosaries prayed within a day, so many set prayers read or recited, perhaps so many hours spent before the Blessed Sacrament. A "way of proceeding" in Ignatian spirituality does not demand any of these devotional obligations, but it does leave a person free to observe any one of them or any combination of them. Just as the text of the Spiritual Exercises remains free of particular devo-tional practices, so Ignatian spirituality imposes no arti-ficial boundaries: prayer times, prayer styles, amount of prayer, particular devotional practices, certain life styles, or specific jobs or responsibilities. Ignatian spirituality is an adaptable "way of proceeding" in our developing a relationship with God, with others, and with our world. From his experience of God, Ignatius wrote the texts 6Y.I 2006 Fleming ¯ Sharing God the Ignatian Way of both the Spiritual Exercises and the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus. We find that both these texts are "to be used"; they provide us with a way of proceeding. They are written for the purpose of the practice they generate. Both are written, not just as a rule of life or just a description of a good life, but as an invitation to experi-ence what Ignatius calls in the Two Standards prayer exercise "the true life." Jesus re

Issue 63.1 of the Review for Religious, 2004. This was the first issue of the Review as a quarterly publication. ; Education Objectives Human Development Eucharistic Ce~nteri~ng Saintly Models Spiritual Growth QUARTERLY 63.1 2004 Review for Religious helps people, respond and be faithful to God's universal call to holiness by making available to them the spiritual legacies that flow from the charisms of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2004 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm 'Judy Sharp Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 63.1 2004 6 Secularism, Justice, and J~suit Higher Education-- Are They All the Same? Martin R. Tripole sJ questions the adequacy'of the justice agenda in Jesuit education and proposes to spell out the task for educators in establishing "the justice of God's kingdom" among students. 21 32 The Spiritual Development of Individuals Stanislaw Glaz SJ points out that spiritual development can proceed correctly only on the condition that we discard the illusions that we have created about our lives and likewise discard vain expectatio~ns for the future. Breaking Stereotypes Ignatius Jesudasan sJ writes about stereotypes from his Indian and Jesuit experience and calls us to reflect on our efforts to move beyond such prejudice. 40 53 A Charism Illumined: Eucharistic Anamnesis and "Viva Memoria" Hildegard Magdalen Pleva OSSR develops the crucial feature of both anamnesis and "living memory" as the ability to make past events and the person of Jesus present and active in our time. Eucharistic Devotion in the Rising Generation Randall S. Rosenberg reflects upon the desire of young people to spend time in loving contemplation and adoration of the Eucharist as a sign of growth in an integral faith life. Review for Religious 58 Teresa of Avila and Friendship Susan B. Cordsen reflects on Teresa of Avila's struggle with friendship. Teresa has much to say to us today as we struggle with what it is to be friends of Christ and friends of one another. 66 Five Faces of Rosalie Rendu Robert P. Maloney CM reflects many of the numerous new blesseds and saints of Pope John Paul's pontificate are not well known. This article attempts to acquaint readers with one of them. Growth in Faith, Hope, and Love Normandie Gaitley SSJ discovered through the setback of apparent failure and rejection God's voice in the midst of the storm calling to a deeper faith, hope, and love. 84 Mountain Caves Carolyn Humphreys OCDS describes our growth in intimacy with God through the imagery of our exeriences in entering the darkness of spiritual caves. 4 Prisms 91 Canonical Counsel: Papal Enclosure: Further Considerations 99 Book Reviews 63.1 2004 R first things first. As we begin a new year, it may be helpful to observe what is first in our lives. For example, we believe that the Eucharist is central to our living the paschal mystery. Yet we might look at whether or how it is first in our religious practice. Jesus provides us with two helps--the first, a word, and the second, an action. During the Last Supper events recorded in the synoptic Gospels, Jesus makes reference to the covenant: "This is the new covenant in my blood." Covenant, a specific agreement practice among the Middle-Eastern peoples, took on a new depth of meaning when the Israelite people understood that God had made a covenant with them] To celebrate this new relationship between God and a people he calls "peculiarly his own," the biblical covenant is sealed with the blood of a sacrificed animal. Blood--just as in out'modern-day blood transfusions--means life, not death. When the priest sprinkled blood first on the altar representing God and then on the people, this blood ritual symbolized the sharing of life between God and God's people. When Jesus says the word "This is the new covenant in my blood," he is taking the symbolic covenant of the Jewish faith and providing an undreamt-of reality to his word. In Eucharistic communion, we find ourselves given the food and drink of everlasting life. Our veins, our very bodies, our very beings are coursing with the "blood" of this new covenant of shared life, the Review for Religious Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, Son of God and Son of Mary, the new Paschal Lamb. The action Jesus performs as key to our understanding is recorded only in John's Gospel account of the Last Supper. The action is Jesus' washing of the disciples' feet. When Peter objects, Jesus replies that, if he does not wash his feet, then Peter will have no relationship with him. In the face of such a harsh consequence, Peter immediately reverses his position and desires to be washed totally clean as a guest made'welcome from the travel of dusty roads--not just his feet, but his hands and face as well. For the Johannine community and for the church in her Holy Thursday celebration, this washing of the feet dramatizes the central mystery of the Eucharist, a sharing of life, giving it away, a life-in-service--"I have given you an example," Jesus says. Eucharist, meaning celebration of holy Mass, and Eucharist, meaning the sacrament of holy communion, include both word and action. God in Jesus is speaking a word of love in sharing divine life with us, bringing us from being just God's creatures to being truly sons and daughters, members of God's family. But in Eucharist God is also involving us in his very action of sharing, and so we find ourselves moved not only, to share our life with God but also, like God, to share life with all those whom our life touches--all of them our brothers and sisters! Eucharist is key to Jesus on the cross--to pay whatever price love costs--to give over his life to God and to give over his life to us. Easter, too, finds its key in Eucharist--Jesus sharing resurrected life, his Father's gift to him, with all of us so that we too might continue to rejoice in and share this life forever. Entering into Eucharist, then, we participate in the paschal mystery, the mystery of the dying and rising of Jesus, the pattern of living the divine cost of sharing life given in love. . .David L. Fleming SJ 63.1 2004 MARTIN R. TRIPOLE ,,Secularism, Justice,. and Jesuit Higher Educationm Are They All the Same? Whether or not justice is present in Jesuit higher education seems recently to have become a mat-ter of high priority. In 2000 every Jesuit college or university in the nation was pressed to send representatives to a special conference in Santa Clara, California, to examine the extent to which justice was being promoted in the policies and curricula of Jesuit institutions, with a view to implementing stronger justice agendas. More than three hundred delegates attended. In October 2002 a follow-up gathering was held in Chicago. Conversations on Jesuit Higher Education recently devoted its entire spring 2000 issue to social justice.1 In July 2002 in Philadelphia, the fifth annual meeting of Col-leagues in Jesuit Business Education focused on "The Paradox of Globalization and Economic Justice." And an international conference on justice and globalization for. leaders in Jesuit Martin R. Tripole SJ last wrote for us in September-October 2000. His address is St. Josepl'i's University; 5600 City Avenue; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. Review for Religi.ous higher education was held in November 2002 at Santa Clara University. The perception seems to be that Jesuit higher edu-cation is not adequately committing itself to the pursuit of justice and something must be done about it. The pressure has grown to make the promotion of justice-- in an institution's mission statement and curricular offer-ings-- the litmus test for qualifying as a Jesuit institution. So much has this conjunction of justice with Jesuit edu-cation become the standard parlaffce at Jesuit institu-tions today that, when lay administrators, faculty members, and students refer to Jesuit education, they immediately identify it with the promotion of justice. In short, if your institution is not promoting justice, it is not Jesuit. Many educators question this symbiosis.of justice and Jesuit education. Is the purpose of Jesuit education to promote justice? Is it possible to fashion Jesuit edu-cation according to a justice model? Doesn't a liberal education in the Jesuit tradition have dimensions far deeper and more important? This article questions the adequacy of the justice agenda in Jesuit education, arguing from (1) the under-standing of the Jesuit mission as approved by the 34th General Congregation (GC34) of the Society of Jesus in 1995, (2) the inherent inability of the iustice agenda to .maintain the Catholic and Jesuit character of Jesuit higher education, and (3) the compelling challenges cre-ated in the world since 11 September 2001, in relation to which the justice mission falls seriously short. Justice and the Jesuit Mission at GC34 The identification of Jesuit education with the pro-motion of justice stems from the 32nd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus (GC32) in Rome in 1975. It decreed that the Jesuit mission is "the service of7 63.1 2004 Tripole * Secularism, Justice, and Jesuit Higher Ed faith, of which the promotion of justice is an absolute requirement.''2 Though the congregation never defined what it meant by justice, most commentators noted the 1960s and 1970s political- and social-activist thinking reflected in the decrees and have rightly concluded that the congregation was referring to social justice. In effect, the congregation asserted in the key for-mulation cited above that every branch of the Jesuit mis-sion had somehow to justify its existence by how it promoted justice. That was the way things stood until 1995, when GC34 was convened. One would never guess, from the continuing emphasis placed upon jus-tice today, that GC34 broadened and deepened the for-mulation of the Jesuit mission so that it now includes much more that is explicitly Christian. Though GC34's thinking included social justice,3 the justice that is linked to the service of faith is now under-stood to be the scriptural and theological understand-ing of justice as "the justice of God's kingdom,':4 The aim of our mission received from Christ. is the service of faith. The integrating principle of our mission is the inseparable link between faith and the promotion of the justice of the Kingdom. In this pre-sent congregation we want to deepen and extend, in a more explicit way, the Society's awareness of those integral dimensions of our mission to which [GC32's] Decree 4 drew attention and which are now reaching maturity in our experience and in our present min-istries. (2:14) Central'to GC34's understanding of faith and the "justice of God's kingdom" is that faith entails sharing in the church's mission of evangelization and therefore pro-claiming the gospel and bringing its teaching into every culture and society (2:15). United with Christ in the power of the Holy Spirit, and operating "within the total evangelizing mission of the church" (2:3), Jesuits are called "to promote the kingdom in all its aspects," Review for Religious including destroying the "structures of sin" and fulfilling the universal "desire to find God" and to "live by his gospel in all its implications" (2:11). The congregation, recognizing that the roots of injus-tice are to be found not only in "economic structures" but also in "cultural attitudes," explicitly states that jus-tice will "flourish" in society only when a deeper cultural transformation is achieved (2:17). Social justice is in a sense a by-product of the transforming power of "Christ's explicitly liberating presence" within history (4:8). Through inculturation, the "liberating power of the gospel" (4:3) be-comes present in every soci-ety by touching its "structural, cultural, and religious aspects with its light" (2:18). Clearly, by shifting its focus to the need to transform cultures, and integrating that effort into the church's total evan-gelizing mission, GC34 has found a deeper and mtre sat-isfying way to correct social problems than by focusing on the promotion of justice alone. Few would deny that promoting social justice is a work "integral". to the church's life. But it is another thing to assert, as GC32 seemed to do, that promoting social justice is an "absolute requirement" of every effort to serve-the gospel. Jesus seems repeatedly to have dis-tinguished the service of faith from the promotion of justice. At the beginning of his ministry, he made faith in his teaching and repentance for sin the appropriate response to the coming of tlie kingdom (Mk 1:15). He stressed the saving power of faith (Mr 9:22, Jn 3:16) and of baptism (Mk 16:14, Jn 3:5) and taught the parable of the talents (Mt 25:14-30), all without alluding to justice. And is it not fitting to proclaim the need for dis- Few would deny that promoting social justice is a work "integral" to the church's life. 9 63.1 2004 Tripole ¯ Secularism, 3~ustice, and yesuit Higher Ed cipleship of Christ (Mk 1:16-20), or the soteriological sig-nificance of Jesus' healing actions (see Mk 2:1-12; 3:7- 12), as well as the redemptive significance of his death and resurrection (1 Co 15), without mentioning justice? Jesus calls his disciples to a life of service of God and others. But the service Jesus intended is broader than promoting justice and does not call for such promotion unless just relations are lacking. Service, however, always calls for love. The quintessence of Christian living is found in our expression of love for one another modeled on Jesus' life of love (Jn 15:12). This love is manifested most of all in laying down one's life for another, as Jesus did On 15:13). It is promoting love, therefore, that would be the more adequate hallmark of the Jesuit mission. Jesuit and Catholic Presence in Jesuit Higher Education Understanding the Jesuit mission as inculturating the gospel has greater implications for Jesuit education than promoting justice does. According to GC34, a Jesuit university "must be out-standing in its human, social, spiritual, and moral for-mation" of student~ (17:11). Borrowing from Pedro Arrupe, superior ger~e.ral\of the Society of Jesus from 1965 to 1983, the congregation ranks, as a priority apos-tolate of the Society of Jesus, "theological reflection" upon "humanism, freedom,~ m~ss culture, economic development, and violence" (16:7). The congregation~ recalls that the early Jesuits "linked Christian catechesis to an education in classical humanism, art,and theater, to make their students versed both in faith and in cul-ture" (4:10), and specifically affirms that in the educa-tional apostolate Jesuits "have a special role to play in linking Christian faith" to contemporary movements in culture (4:28). The justice mission is not broad enough to handle these goals. Review for Religious In the light of GC34's understanding of the Jesuit mission, we would do well to examine the findings of "Jesuit Education 21," the last major conference on Jesuit higher education in the United States. Held at St. Joseph's University in June 1999, the conference brought together over three hundred laypersons and Jesuits from around the world, with more than eighty presentations made by prominent educators. A close examination of the conference proceedings5 indicates much of what is troubling Jesuit higher education today. They show that more is needed to restore the Jesuit and Catholic char-acter of Jesuit institutions than promoting justice can provide. Though their concerns were distinctly pro-Jesuit and pro-Catholic, the participants never came to a consensus on what being Jesuit and Catholic means or how Jesuit and Catholic values, whatever they might be, can be pre-served. A reviewer of the published proceedings called them "fascinating" and "indisl~ensabl~e' readin_g, yet admitted he could not conclude fro---~-~hem_ what Jesuit education stood for.6 This inability to state with clarity what it means to be Jesuit and Cath_olic_may reflect an erosion of identity already underway in Jesui_~t and Catholic colleges and universities. The proceedings provide good grounds tofear that the secularization that oc~ in many Pro___testant schools in the early 20th-century is well under___way at Jesuit and other Catholic institutions as_w__ell.____A basis for this view may be found, for exa--m-~le, in ~he distinction admissions recruiters.have frequency_ drawn-between Jesuit values and Catholic ide~-~ity. Many_ said they emphasize the former and do.wnpla._y or ignore the latter as a matter of policy. But why?-The distinction, they said, enabled them to iden6fy Jesuit schools to potential applicants as institutions promoting humanistic values, rather than as schools fostering Catholic identity. The 11 63.1 2004 Tripole ¯ Secularism, Justice, and Jesuit Higher Ed effect was to make being Jesuit distinguishable from belonging to the Catholic Church. That recruiters make such a distinction as part of their effort to appeal to potential students may indicate how ingrained among students as well as among recruiters secularization has already become. The erosion of Catholic identity may be even more evident in the hiring of new faculty members increas-ingly for their professional competence and their sup-port of humanistic values rather than for an interest in fostering a Catholic culture on the campus. One admin-istrator at the conference, bluntly admitted without com-ment or apology that Jesuit institutions will no longer accept support for the Catholic mission as a factor to be considered in the hiring of new faculty. He argued that Jesuit distinctiveness is now identified with humanistic values such as seeing the world, as sacramental, showing love by deeds, and searching for ultimate meaning, and that, when the Jesuit character is understood that way, "Jesuit education can and will thrive independently of the fortunes of the institutional Catholic Church." He went on to say that, "if you were to tell faculty tomorrow to 'hire for mission' with an emphasis on Catholic rather than, or over and above, Jesuit, I know what will hap-pen . The present faculty simply will. not do it" (Francis Fennell, Proceedings, p. 446). The peremptory nature of these remarks indicates how difficult it would be to reverse the trend toward secular humanism, for the faculty are the primary decision makers for hiring in their departments. Deeper theological roots of secular humanism may be found in the increasing acceptance of a principle never accepted by the Catholic Church, that faith is a private matter. This perspective includes relegating faith matters to the theology department and campus.ministry, rather than considering a Catholic culture something all Uni- Review for Religious versity personnel can share in. Theology departments, however, eager to be accepted as legitimately academic and hospitable to pluralistic thinking, are increasingly reluctant to identify themselves with matters of faith, thereby adding to the alienation of faith from the life of the institution (Avery Dulles, Proceedings, pp. 168-169). Does Promoting Justice Foster Secularism? Jesuits may themselves have much to do with this incursion of secularism into Jesuit universities, for an identification of Jesuit values with secular humanism has been widely accepted in Jesuit circles. The favored jar-gon for what Jesuit products should be--"men and women for others"--would be an acceptable character-ization of ideal products of any secular university. Are there any institutions in favor of self-centered graduates who want to promote injustice? The common phrase makes it difficult to distinguish a good secular humanist from a good graduate of any Jesuit institution. Jesuit spirituality promotes "finding God in all things." The principle, admirable in itself and valuable for people who wish to implement their faith, is problematic when put into the hands of secular humanists, since it allows not only faith in any god whatsoever, but also the marginal-ization of the true God over against a quasi-sacral aura that envelops all things. Support for secularization has unwittingly come from equating the Jesuit mission with the promotion of justice, an equation that can be made even when faith is absent~ Such an equation allows the reduction of the Christian faith to secularly acceptable standards and makes what is specific to being Catholic optional: belief in the triune God, commitment to Jesus Christ, and fidelity to the church and its teachings. When, therefore, Jesuit edu-cation understands its mission as promoting justice, someone must ask: Is such a mission capable of preserv- 13 63.1 2004 Tripole ¯ Secularism, 3°~stice, and Jesuit Higher Ed ing the Catholic character of our institutions? It would seem not. The promotion of justice is put on a par with other advocacy movements-- not life-altering efforts, but efforts that fit into the little compartment in our lives that supports Charitable causes. Catholic Identity and the Lives of Our Students The justice-advocacy movement has the weakness of being normally integrated into the larger framework of self-identity, even when it is most effective. The promotion of justice is put on a par with other advocacy movements-- not life-altering efforts, but efforts that fit into the little compartment in our lives that supports charitable causes. We contribute to the muscular dystrophy program on Labor Day, our hearts go out to Michael J. Fox and his cam-paign for curing Parkinson's disease, the more youthful among us dance the night away to seek financial contri-butions for the fight against AIDS--but afterwards we return to the secular aims and purposes that motivate our humdrum daily lives. Self-chosen secular aims and agendas are not likely to be altered much by participation in special advocacy movements, for many students take it for granted that in any case the measure of success is the worldly standard of money, power, and reputation. Against such a back-drop, advocacy causes fulfill the contribution to human-ity that political correctness and secularized Christianity deem necessary for those who would be model citizens and good Christians, but they do not call for renouncing worldly values in the ways that Christ proposed in his Sermon on the Mount. Review for Religious Reducing Jesuit education to a justice syndrome, then, is inadequate. In order to work, such a syndrome would need to be integrated into a life-altering motivating prin-ciple. In seeking to make our students eager simply to pursue social justice, we fail to provide them with the Christian rationale for being committed to such activity. The rationale that the older generation of Catholics accepts as a Christian truism--that sharing a common humanity should make human beings concerned for the welfare of others--cannot be taken for granted in our students. Many of them operate on a sense of worth the root of which is their aggressive pursuit of self-interest. For them, being a "person for others" is a sop for the weak and sentimental. Many people thought that 1960s altruism would of itself promote everywhere an array of humanistic values consistent with the goals of Chris-tianity. We now know that this did not happen. Only faith in Jesus Christ can bring in its train the life-altering principles dynamic enough for consistent and truly humanistic, humane, human activity. Reducing Christianity to a sort of social justice makes faith appear redundant and irrelevant (when in fact full Christian faith is central). Identifying Jesuit education with pro-moting .justice caters to this seeming redundancy and calls into question any need for any sort of Catholic edu-cation and any Christianity that demands a faith com-mitrnent to Jesus Christ. It is not accidental that, as years pass, our students are less and less inclined to call them-selves Catholic or practice a Christian way of life. In effect, they have been programmed by a system that has made Christian commitment and Catholic living mar-ginal or obsolete. Justice and Ignatius's Educational Goals ls an education geared to the promotion of justice consistent with St. Ignatius's goals? Many do not think so. 63. I 2004 Tripole * Secularism, Justice, and yesuit Higher Ed Surely no one disputes that Ignatius supported the integration of the virtue of justice into the lives of stu-dents at Jesuit institutions. In a letter written to his nephew Antonio de Araoz in 1551, Ignatius indicates that education in Jesuit sch'ools should lead to positions of influence for the good of society--either in specifically Christian activity, such as being a priest, or in govern-mental and other administrative positions of~authority. He specifically mentions that persons educated in Jesuit schools may benefit society by taking on roles in "the administration of justice." But Ignatius never saw such activity as intrinsically self-motivating. Whatever field of endeavor graduates might enter, they were to be moti-vated by the desire for "God's greater service" and that of "Christ, our eternal salvation." 7 George E. Ganss shows, in his classic study Saint Ignatius' Idea of a Jesuit University,s that Ignatius under-stood his goals for the education of non-Jesuft students as part and parcel of the Christian life envisioned in his Spiritual Exercises. There Ignatius indicates that human beings are "created to praise, reverence, and serve God our Lord, and by means of doing this to save their souls," and that everything else is created for them for these purposes.9 That same outlook on life is °brought to bear upon Part Four of Ignatius's Constitutions, which treats of the goals of his colleges (high schools) and universi-ties: "The end of the Society [of Jesus] and of its stud-ies is to aid our fellowmen to the knowledge and love of God and to the salvation of their souls." Since Ignatius saw the study of theology as "the means most suitable to this end," he declared that "principal emphasis ought to be put upon it.''l° Ganss argues, however, that the inculcation of Christian values was not left simply to the work of the-ology professors, but was integral to the life of the entire university.~l For Ignatius, all of life is brought into focus Review for Religio us through a personal encounter with Jesus Christ and a commitment to Christ's mission by sharing in the paschal mystery of his death and resurrection. It would have been unthinkable~ for Ignatius to set up educational insti-tutions without orienting them and their students toward this same encounter and mission. Jesuit Education after 11 September 2001 Perhaps the most serious question to be asked of advocates of justice education is whether their agenda, in the light of the events of 9/11 and the gravity of the priest sex-abuse scandal, meets the chal-lenge of our time. The roots of the horrendous actions of the Middle East terrorists on that September day may be found on many different levels--economic, social, cultural, and religious. Surely an enlightened awareness of the inadequacy of the attempts of the United States to promote justice throughout the world needs to be brought to bear upon the kind of response we make. But, whether one is Palestinian or Israeli, European or American, Democrat or Republican, the issue is not whether to promote justice (who is in favor of being unjust?), but how to discern and implement practical methods that will satisfy people's yearnings for justice and peace. Faith does not endow Christian educators with the ability to discern what such methods might be--they continue to elude the best of political-scientists of whatever faith-- The issue is not whether to promote justice (who is in favor of being unjust ?), but how to discern and implement practical methods that will satisfy people's yearnings for justice and peace. 17 63.1 2004 Tripole ¯ Secularism, Justice, and Jesuit Higher Ed but it does provide a motive for see,king the best of meth-ods and choosing honestly the most,prudent moral action. The issues on the table since the'attacks of 9/11 are fundamental. The very survival of humanity seems to be at stake. It would be naive and platitudinous for Christian educators to think they have made their specific contri-bution merely by calling for the promotion of justice. The stakes are far too high, the dimensions of the prob-lem too great, for talk on that level to be adequate. The world has a right to expect more from people of faith. The sex scandal among the clergy also calls for a major rethinking of what it means to be a disciple of Christ. If those who have been singled out by the church to be model artisans of a new humanity have instead become instruments of dehumanization, more is de-manded to correct .the situation than a call for justice. To respond to the demands of our day, Christians are being called to a thorough reformation of their lives--abandoning self-interest and recentering their lives in the Christ who renounced himself on the cross for the salvation of the world. Christians must become persons who are themselves transformed and are at work revamping the human psyche so that it is motivated no longer by secular and material drives alone. The goal is a transformation of culture so that the person of Christ and the pattern of his life will willingly be accepted as the ideal of what it means to be human. What other efforts could Christians be expected to make? The mission for Catholic and Jesuit educators today is to go all the way or not go at all. What we need to promote is not simply justice, but a new visiofi of humanity where God's Spirit is recognized as the power driving generous and beneficial human action, rather than as optional or marginal to it, Our goal cannot merely be social justice, but the justice that destroys the Review for Religious demonic forces of the world, restores community between the human race and God, and ennobles human dignity by seeing it as a sharing in divine life. Our goal must be to spread the fire that Jesus came to earth to ignite, brightening people's minds and warming their hearts (Lk 12:49). This is what our students need to receive in our schools. The task for educators in Jesuit universities is to establish "the justide of God's kingdom" among our stu-dents. Instead of equating the Lucan principle "Blessed are the poor" with a call for economic and political jus-tice, we need to hear the Matthean principle "Blessed are the poor in spirit," which calls us to walk humbly with the Lord so that in the Spirit we can create even on earth the life of his kingdom. Doing that, we may even succeed in showing terrorists that Christ is the redeemer of the world and that faith in him is the very way to God and to wholeness and peace in human relationships. Notes ~ Conversations on Jesuit Higher Education 19 (Spring 2001), "After Justice." 2 Decree 4, "Our Mission Today: The Service of Faith and the Promotion of Justice," §2, in Documents of the 31st and 32rid General Congregations of the Society of Jesus, ed. John W. Padberg SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1977). 3 Indeed, GC34 devotes an entire document to the social-justice agenda: Decree 3, "Our Mission and Justice," in Documents of the Thirty-Fourth General Congregation of the Society of Jesus, ed. John L. McCarthy SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1995). 4 Decree 2, "Servants of Christ's Mission," §11, of GC34. Hereafter references to the documents of this congregation are noted in the text thus: (2:11). 5 Jesuit Education 21: Conference Proceedings on the Future of Jesuit Higher Education, ed. Martin R. Tripole SJ (Philadelphia: St. Joseph's University, 2000). References are noted in the text. 6 Dennis O'Brien, "How to Be Loyal to Loyola," Commonweal 128, no. 8 (20 April 2001): 26. 19 63. I 2004 Tripole ¯ Secularism, Justice, and yesuit Higher Ed 7 To Antonio de Araoz, On the ministry of Christian education, I December 1551, in George E. Ganss SJ, Ignatius of Loyola: The Spiritual Exercises and Selected Works (New York: Paulist Press, 1991), pp. 361-365 at 362 and 365 (letter selected and translated by Martin E. Palmer SJ). 8 George E. Ganss sJ, Saint Ignatius' ldea of a Jesuit University (Milwaukee: Marquette University Press, 1956). 9 The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius, trans, and ed. George E. Ganss SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1992), §23. ~0 St. Ignatius of Loyola, The Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, trans, and ed. George E. Ganss gJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), Part 4, chap. 12, no. 1 (§446; emphasis added). The nature of the university was different in Ignatius's day, to be sure, yet there is no reason to think that Ignatius would alter the content of this statement, even if it were directed to the Jesui~ university of today. 11 Ganss, Saint lgnatius'Idea, pp. 176-178. Song of the Thistle You brought me forth on the parched prairie where Russian thistles rolled and were caught against fences. And I like a thistle am still on a roll fencing with frustrations, but you don't leave me stuck to the wires now as you didn't then. I am still a tumbling weed that survived the dirty "thirties rolled fast by the Wind this day. Somewhere along the Way I am scattering seeds that may yet become shrubs or trees, something more than thistles and tumbling weeds. Mary Alban Bouchard CSJ Review for Religious STANISLAW GLAZ The Spiritual Development of Individuals Psychology shows us that, in the spiritual life of Christians who strive to keep the command-ments, much falsehood and aggression may go unnoticed. Sins we are not conscious of may be hidden in our soul. For sin is not only breaking a few specific commandments an&admitting some of the peccadilloes on a catechism list. There is sin when 'people neglect their own growth and ignore their life's purpose as deter-mined by God and by nature's laws of develop-ment. Anger and theft, are often the result of a sin, the sin of being immature, of not growing apace with one's years. If we want to grow, we have to be in contact with ourselves and with God. A lack of personal development leads to inner compulsions to hurt ourselves and others, as a way of believing in our own strength and showing it: We feel weak and humiliated, and then we choose to do harm in order to feel our own vitality. Stanislaw Glaz SJ is professor of psychology at the University "Ignatianum," where the address is: ul. Kopernika 26; 31-501 Krakow; Poland. 21 63.1 2004 Glaz ¯ The Spiritual Development of lndividuals Members of the clergy, psychologists, and theologians often ask what should be done to foster people's spiritual growth and thereby foster their personality development as well. What are the essential conditions for proper development and growth? As answers to questions like this one, I plan to share some of my pastoral experience of the last few years. I will point out several factors, often unconscious ones, that influence people's spiritual development in either constructive or destructive ways. One cannot name everything thht can benefit spiritual development. Many psychologists and theologians have tried to show elements helping such development, but those they have mentioned concern mainly the ascetic and theological aspects. Today the psychology of spirituality~ offers more such factors than earlier theology could offer. Reconciliation with Oneself and with Others Many psychologists believe that, before people can love their enemy, they have to learn to love the enemy in themselves. They have to effect a reconciliation between hostile elements in themselves. To the end of their lives, people retain certain personal imperfections. They need to admit their aggressive and murderous tendencies, their inclinations towards iealousy, fear, sadness, loneliness, and other emotions. It is often more difficult for us to love the enemy in ourselves than the external enemy. We must allow the sun of God's love and benevolence to shine on and into our entire being, including all that is dark and threatening and everything that is odd, awkward, or inept. Then the light of love will transform the evil (Powell 1978). A sense of guilt is often caused by a lack of rec-onciliation with oneself, a failure to face one's own truth. Psychologists say that the sense of guilt is often necessary. In providing a chance to learn the truth about one's self, it Review for Religious can be a blessing or a curse. People with a negative attitude towards their sense of guilt are not able to accept the history of their life. They rebel at the fact that they were brought up in this or that way, were born .at this or that moment of history, were not in a position to realize their dream--that they experienced deep wounds. They blame their parents and society for not giving them the opportunity for normal development. They choose to see themselves as victims, rather than accept their situation, their wounds, their limited range of experience. They must understand that their parents and neighbors did not set these limits (perceived wrongly as constraints) intentionally, but only as the unavoidable result of similar limits and perceptions in their' own lives. Thus it is necessary that people evaluate the world by new principles (Sovernigo 1990, pp. 221-223). Reconciliation with oneself plays an important role in the spiritual development of human beings. We need to accept the person we became, to accept--along with our talents---our handicaps and weaknesses, our vulnerability, our fears, and our dallying perseverance. We must look at all that we do not Jike in ourselves, at everything we would rather not see, at our low esteem. This is ~a lifelong process. We endlessly discover in ourselves things ~that are new to us. We have to accept it all, including our own incompleteness. We must account for everything in .our lives that we excluded or rejected because it did not fit in our favorite image of ourselves, an idealized and untrue picture. We must admit that, besides the love and friendliness in our souls, there also are such feelings as hatred, anger, A sense ofguilt is often caused by a lack of reconciliation with oneself, a failure to face one's own truth. 23 63.1 2004 Glaz ¯ Tbe Spiritual Development of Individuals depression, and fear; not only brave and unselfish yearnings, but also godless spheres that want to remain undisturbed and unchanged. If we do not face the full truth about our patterns of emotion and thought and behavior, we project them unconsciously on others. Facing the full truth of our life till now means more than glancing at it superficially. It requires great courage. It requires giving up our ideal image of ourself (Laing 1969). Life in Accordance with Love Happy people are~not those who can either solve their own problems or ignore them. Happy people are people aware of their value as persons living their own unique lives, being themselves, loving others and letting others love them in their limitedness. Love assumes the need of self-control, which starts with awareness of our own feelings, thoughts, and behaviors. Love is both the skill and the wish to allow the loved ones to be who they want to be, without any insisting that they meet our own expectations. How much love we can offer to others depends on the love we have for ourselves. We are all unique. We should love our own selves, and our self-esteem should not be directly affected by our limitations and faults. Neither our current behavior, nor the behavior of others towards us, nor our feelings are the gauge of our own value, which is constant. People often evaluate themselves by .the definition of beauty and by role models put forward by the surrounding culture. Such self-evaluations are the origin of false selves that commandeer the true selves that people are given once and forever (Griin 1999, Mellody 1992). People have their genuine selves, which are the core of who they are, their essence, their spiritual entity. It is there that God is present, where their fears and sufferings do not penetrate. People who allow their own true self, their spiritual self, to direct their actions make of their Review for Religious soul a secure citadel where God lives and freedom reigns. This inner sphere is invulnerable. One can never be deprived of this intrinsic dignity. But one needs to discover it and to experience God as the foundation of all existence, of all human lives. God gives me life, and God sustains me in it. My value does not depend on passing an exam, nor on the judgment of others. It depends on my being who I am. God wants me to be myself. My value comes from no one but God. My value is my privilege (Powell 1978). The Way of Experiencing Faith Faith is not only the teaching of the church, it is not only the spiritual dimension, but it is also the proper perception of reality, the proper perception of God, of other people, and of myself. It is the art of a sane life, the art of trustful judgment of myself, of handling myself appropriately. Faith is the way to freedom. It is trust in God. It is conviction that God touches tenderly each sphere of my being, that his grace reaches all of the human soul in order to bring the light of his life there. Faith allows me to share with God all my mysteries. Faith is conviction that through Christ and in Christ human beings gained participation in God's life and that all of creation is permeated by God (Grfin 1980). True love depends not only on being free from an external sovereign, from the power of this world, and from the authority of another person, but also on being free from internal compulsions. Some ~limitations of our freedom may be occasioned by inherited behavioral tendencies. My freedom is limited when I do not know God, when I lower my self-esteem, when I create a false image of another person, when I follow slavishly the role models given to me by my parents, when I let myself be controlled by fear of loneliness, or when my perception of life and the world, is false. 63.1 2004 Glaz * The Spiritnal Development of Individuals Destructive Elements Spiritual development proceeds step by step. Many people, even when considerably along on their° spiritual iourney, may do things that impede their progress. Psychologists have tried to discover these hindrances and evaluate their consequences in both sociological and developmental terms. In their religious and social lives, numbers of people have a rigorous attitude towards themselves. The roots of such an attitude may be numerous and deep in people's unconscious. These roots may form when children do not experience unconditional love or when their parents do not treat them seriously in terms of their own self. Then the children are likely to be deeply wounded and fail to experience themselves as distinct and unique beings. According to many psychologists, their primal sense of security is injured; in other words, the children feel fundamentally unloved. Their self, their sense of the "me, who I am" is hurt, damaged, rejected by the very persons they needed to accept them unconditionally. After being treated in this way, children may react violendy against the people around them or against themselves. Such behavior is likely to bring some kind of punishment on them. Later, growing up, they may similarly punish themselves. This injustice and violence is likely to be .at the root of future violence and cruelty in the world (Gri.in 1997a). Upbringing becomes destructive when it fosters one side only, for example, only male aspects of personality like toughness and audacity, and depreciates sensitive feelings. Such treatment convinces a boy that his own and others' feelings are not important. Aggression towards the external world always corresponds with resentment towards oneself. The lack of love causes children to be fearful. They fear rejection, loneliness, and life itself. They desperately try not to disappoint their parents. They see exaggerated rigidity as a way of gaining their Review for Religious parents' love. Having no support from their inner self (for it is not developed yet), the children try to create support by imposing clear and sharp demands on themselves. Such severe attitudes towards themselves are efforts to overcome the deeply rooted fear resulting from the absence of parental warmth and acceptance. Such children do not trust themselves or others because they do not feel the support of a stable and clear relationship with their parents, nor the support of good pedagogical rules and guidelines. They are filled with suspicion and doubt, and so they perceive other people as untrustworthy and threatening. Feeling a similar vague mistrust of themselves, they seek to overcome it by sticking strictly to their own clear norms (Powell 1969). They feel well. only on the condition that they fulfill certain ideals. Their sense of their own value depends on whether people describe them as perfect children or not. They identify with "model" children so strongly that they cannot tolerate any deviation from that ideal.VV-henever they learn .that something they did was a mistake, they make their self-imposed rules and rituals more severe and uncompromising, But if persons force themselves to fit their ideals, they only torture themselves. They think that God expects them to be ideal constantly, that they should always be kind and open to others, forgetting self always. But that is not God's will; it is their own self-imposed "ideal," which often serves solely to gratify themselves, their own expectations and ambitions (Griin 1997). Lack of Love of Oneself Such an "ideal" appears mosdy in our ideal image of ourselves. We cannot accept that God created us to be who we are. We think that our imaginary idea of ourselves is more important than God's will. We do not try to develop all that God gave us; we do not accomplish numerous real possibilities in our lives. In our minds we27 63.1 2004 Glaz * The Spiritual Development of Individuals have ready pictures of ourselves deriving either from our parents and official and unofficial teachers or from own ambitions, our dreams of being some kind of hero or heroine. We may think, then, that we can do almost everything without any help from anybody. We may believe we can form the world as we wish and that we have no need to take into account the order given to the world by God. Many of us assume that we can achieve our hopes and ambitions by some kind of force. Before God this may indicate both a lack of humility and a failure to give God due respect. ~ People who push themselves higher than they are supposed to go land finally in their own prison. Resisting God is resisting life. It does damage to oneself. The egoism in people's drive towards self-actualization often leads away from love of their neighbor. It is in their work that they look for their identity and value, because they have failed to find value in themselves as God's beloved creation[ Such people have trouble admitting that they can. and do make mistakes. They look for ways to gloss over the evidences of their errors. They may push a miscalculated plan to a regrettable conclusion (provided they :do not appear responsible for it) rather than admit the wrongness of their initial decision. Their fear of anyone's negative opinion of them is stronger than their fear of doing damage: What will happen if others know how weak and fallible I am? And so they create and take on problems for other people, overestimating their own ability to control the damage. Such people lack balance. Their thought is all-or-nothing: If I do not achieve greatly at all costs, I am empty and dull, a nothing (Sovernigo 1990, pp. 228-229). Misunderstood Asceticism ~. A sound asceticism is characterized by a positive attitude towards ourselves. Its role is giving support to Review for Religious us--although people often think of it as rejecting pleasure and inhibiting our drives. The idea is the affirmation and development of life, not its negation. Unhealthy asceticism often includes a deficient image of God, which in turn may cause insensitivity and destructive desires, aspects of perfectionism. Perfectionists try to be like God. They create a system of compulsions, of detailed principles and commands. Adhering to that system and enlarging it becomes their goal in life. They deprive themselves of any pleasure; they live solely to sacrifice. They do not let themselves have any happiness because it will not last and then they will feel all the worse. They want, on their own, to get rid of anything negative in themselves. They do not trust God. They do not believe that somehow everything will make sense, that God can positively transform even what is negative in their lives. All they have to do is let God into their lives, their souls. The religious attitude of those people contains a lot of disbelief in the goodness of humanity. It assumes that people are good only when they are doing things, such as saying as many prayers as possible. Only fi solid faith in the true God brings the kind of trust that people need in order to live heaolthy and constructive lives without fearfulness. People who do not put trust in God's unconditional love for them have trouble in coping with guilt, which is present even in people who strive always to be good. People without trust in God do not understand what Jesus' carrying our cross and our carrying some of it with him are all about. They live stubbornly according to their own ideals, and their lives become rigid. Their suppressed and unmet needs attack them and appear as neurotic behavior. Perfectionists A sound asceticism is characterized by a positive attitude towards ourselves. 29 63.1 2004 Glaz ¯ The Spiritual Development of Individuals demand of themselves that their lives be altogether free of shallow or untrue motives. Such asceticism becomes a process of self-destruction (Sovernigo 1990, pp. 233-237). It seems, then, that spiritual development can proceed correctly only on the condition that we discard the illusions that we have created about our lives and likewise discard vain expectations for the future. One of those illusions is that we can create our own justice, love, and truth. And yet we have been transformed by Christ, we are called to a new life, called to a full development. To live that new life means to live in accordance with our innermost calling, not surrendering to expectations and demands that we ourselves or other people mistakenly impose on us. It means allowing God to create us and form us. Living by the Spirit's guidance and power means freedom from compulsion to prove our own value. It means life based on gratitude for all that we have been given by God. The aim of life is acceptance of that inner, spiritual reality which God gave us, which he gave us with love and in truth. The aim of life is being and living that reality and discovering the beauty of being, each of us, our individual selves, discovering and showing our original faces, faces given to us by God. Bibliography Albisetti, Valerio. 1991. Per esserefelici. Milano: Edizioni Paoline. Griin, Anselm. 1980. Lebensmitte als Geistlicbe Aufgabe. Benediktinerabtei Mfinsterschwarzach. Griin, Anselm. 1996. Glauben als Umdeuten glauben--lieben--loben. Benediktinerabtei Miinsterschwarzach. Griin, Anselm. 1997. Gut mit sicb selbst umgeben. Mainz: Matthias- Griinewald-Verlag. Griin, Anselm. 1997a. Tu dir docb nicbt selber web. Mainz: Matthias- Griinewald-Verlag. Griin, Anselm. 1999. lm Haus der Liebe wobnen. Stuttgart: Kreuz Verlag. Laing, Ronald D. 1998. L'lo diviso. Turin: Einaudi. Review for Religious Mellody, Pia. 1992. Facing Love Addiction: Giving Yourself the Power to Change the Way You Love. HarperSanFrancisco. Powell, John. 1969. Why Am I Afraid to Tell You Who I Am? Mien, Texas: Thomas More Association. Powell, John. 1978. Unconditional Love. Chicago: Thomas More Publishers. Sovernigo, Giuseppe. 1990. Religione e persona: psicologia dell' esperienza religiosa. Bologna: EDB. Nothing Is Lost That's what the fossils teach, leaves pressed to carbon traces, footprints cast in pudding stone, a dinosaur with feet smaller than my hand. Nothing is lost, not even what we cannot find a trace of. Firm under our feet, those old lives live on, in new forms, rock and root, awareness of what we are and have come from. Once a mind opens, thelight is there; it cannot close. Knowledge grows and we see what we could not, learn what needed light to be clear, like seeds long still in sand till the rain softens the dark, and green horns seep through the grains toward the sun. Nothing is lost. Everything feeds on, is formed from the past. And so shall we be, someday: seed and loam for what will come. Doretta Cornell RDC 31 63.1 2004 IGNATIUS JESUDASAM Breaking Stereotypes Reality is changing constantly. Stereotypes do not. Therefore they are unreal, products of the emo-tion and imagination of individuals and groups that have a vested interest in maintaining and perpetuating illu-sions. Stereotypes are born of fear or perception of threat. They go with and generate the negative attitudes of closed minds and hearts, keeping people stuck in their prejudice. Every group has experience of stereotypes. India abounds in them--a reason why we do not progress as much as we could. Our stereotypes make us our own worst enemies. The great national task in this context is to break the stereotypes in our minds by seeing and recognizing reality, which changes and has changed from the last time that we took a look at it. What follows is an example set by a minority group, without a conscious design to break stereotypes, nor claiming to be nor setting itself up as a model of stereotype breaking. This group just did something natural. Spontaneity is the natural way to break stereotypes, which are unnatural and antinatural. One has only to watch that stereotypes do not become second nature. Ignatius Jesudasan SJ wrote this from Loyola School; Uthiramerur; 603 406 India. Review for Religious Jesuits are a worldwide and well-known male religious order and organizational network in the Roman Catholic Church. Although they are generally known by the quality of their educational institutions, they are involved in and committed to many other endeavors too. They are a missionary order; they are always to be in a state of mission, of being sent. It is in this sense that the church itself is missionary. It understands itself as being sent into the whole world by Jesus Christ, who himself was sent here by God, whom .he called Father. In other words, Christ is not for himself, but for others. The church is not supposed to be for itself, but for the world. Christians is not supposed to be for themselves, but for others. Gandhi's vision of India was something similar. His self-image and life and action manifested the same spirit. Is this something wrong? Is it not the way that everyone is supposed to be? Where then is the problem? It is in this sense of mission and being missionary--in this stereotypemthat Christians and Christian organizations have caught the attention of the Indian majority mind and consciousness. As an avant-garde organization in the Catholic Church, the Jesuits and their diverse works are not free from the stereotype. Even Gandhi was not free from it. Regarding the church and its missionaries, is the stereotype well founded? Stereotype as Prejudice. Stereotyping is people's habit of assuming that they know what in fact they do not know. It is pretending to know. If my etymology is correct, "pretend," from the Latin roots prae and tendere, means to hold out in front, to stretch forth, to put forzvard a falsehood, a mask, an empty faqade. It means to assert as real what reality denies. In life we are often involved in such contradictions, or koans as Zen masters name them. We hold what we do not hold, and know what we do not know. We do not know 63.1 2004 Jesudasam * Breaking Stereotypes Since stereotypes are founded on people's ignorance and on bigots" exploitation of that ignorance, the first and best remedy is to get to know those about whom stereotypes exist. that we do not know. In other words, we lie to and deceive others or ourselves; or else we may not know enough to be able and willing to admit and correct our ignorance. And this is what bias or prejudice is. It is judgment before knowing or hearing the case. We indulge in it because we are cocksure of our rightness. And this sense of rightness is not all wrong. Prejudices have their roots in positive or negative emotions like love and hatred, or attraction and repulsion. Behind love and hatred, and attraction and repulsion, there may be many layers of knowledge and experience. What knowledge and experience do large numbers of Indian people have of Christians that cause them to dislike or feel uneasy about them? They "know" that the church and Christians are missionary, and they take it to mean converting others to their faith and worldview. They see such conversion as a loss to Hinduism and a gain to Christianity. This is why ethnoreligiously conscious Hindus, which secular Hindus are not, perpetuate the stereotype about Christian education, Christian social work, Christian medical work, and what have you. No one asks whether the schools and colleges do it, or the other good works do it. No factual statistics substantiate the prejudice against Christians. People take no surveys among Christians or even non- Christians about conversion facts, efforts, or even conscious intentions before adopting or retaining or rejecting these stereotypes. Review for Religious Stereotypes and prejudices are not good for any group or nation, and are positively harmful to them, for they divide, scatter, and waste their precious emotional energy resources and capacities for constructive development. India's emotional unity is affected by the prejudice directed from any community towards any other community on whatever basis, be it language, religion, caste, state, or locality. It is therefore in the national interest to remove every bias, prejudice, and stereotype that any individual or community has about any other individual or community. Since stereotypes are founded on people's ignorance and on bigots' exploitation of that ignorance, arousing mass phobia regarding the ethnically different, the first and best remedy is to get .to know those about whom stereotypes exist. It is probably with this in mind that Jesus spoke with authority to his fellow Jews: "I tell you: Love your enemies, do good to them, and pray for those who persecute you." This is good advice for any nation, and certainly not bad for India. Bias-breaking Spirituality Breaking stereotypes is therefore a social, psychological, national, and spiritual service. One may engage in it consciously or not. I see an example of unconscious stereotype breaking in a small document published recently by the Indian Jesuits, containing a summary of a week-long meeting of South Asian Jesuits held recently at Mumbai to plan a course of action for the coming years. The document is called "Action Statement of the Jesuits for Living and Sharing the Good News in South Asia." The title might strengthen the suspicion already present in the minds of the prejudiced, but the actual document will show how far it is from being sectarian propaganda material. The document was not produced 6"3.1 2004 yesudasam ¯ Breaking Stereotypes for public consumption or propaganda. It is meant solely to inspire, enlighten, and direct Jesuits in their various endeavors. The Vatican and the bishops might not appreciate it, but it was not written with them in view either. Christianity as Humanism It reads pretty much like a religiously secular document. Religious faith and social commitment are nowhere camouflaged. Faith, what the meeting's delegates believe in, is the source of their motivation. Sharing this faith is the purpose of all their activity and involvement. But neither that faith nor their activity is sectarian or divisive in purpose or practice. Christian terminology is used, which is unavoidable. But it is neither propaganda, nor propagandist in intent. It is inspirational for the group, and is not directed against any other group or the common good. Denominational religious conversion does not figure in it at all, not even as a hidden agendum. All the same, personal and cultural transformation, respect for every individual and group, and human dignity, equality, and fellowship stand out as serious social concerns. The document deplores absence or shadowy presence in the culture of the land. But, instead of accusing and finding fault with the culture, it calls for struggle and sacrifice to bring about desirable change in social patterns, The realities of globalization, religious fundamen-talism, and ethnic nationalism are recognized as aggravating the social conflicts in South Asia. The confusion of values in the fast-changing society (youth falling prey to alcohol, drugs, cults, sects, violence, and sexual exploitation), gender discrimination, and the commoditization of women and of labor are clearly focused upon. Civil liberties, human rights, environ-mental concerns, community-building techniques, and Review for Religious human solidarity are seen as signs of hope even amid the conflicts and tensions. Church as National Social Service Several areas of Jesuit involvement in South Asia are reviewed and planned for. They are education, parish ministry, interreligious dialogue, youth formation, social action for empowerment of women, Dalits, and tribals, and finally Jesuits' accountability to themselves and one another. Jesuit education is open to all, but especially to the poor, the Dalits, tribals, and women. Basics of all religions and problems regarding social justice, the environment, and human rights are to find a place in Jesuit curricula. Jesuit education is to serve the full human development of the weak and the marginalized and thereby help bring about social equality. There is to be remedial education in the schools and socially relevant research at higher levels. Even the formation of Christians is given a more social than religious thrust and direction. Basic Christian communities are to blossom into basic human communities imbued with the gospel values. In a male-dominant patriarchal church and society, the document asserts the need to discover the feminine in every person and in this way change one's own mindset and enhance one's way of relating to God, the world, humankind, and all creation. It asserts the need to include women in church decisions and priestly formation, and to take up women's issues in social action. The document calls for focus on the liberative dimension of cultural symbols, language, myths, and festivals. It calls for addressing religious fundamentalism, including Christian funda-mentalism. On the side of tribals, they support traditional rights to forestland, water, and habitat, and unity in tribal diversity. On behalf of the much-fractured Dalits, the document propounds standing up for their dignity as 63.1 2004 ~esudasam ¯ Breaking Stereotypes God's children, opposing caste discriminations, working for equal respect for each man and woman, and working preferentially with and for the most marginalized of the Dalits, irrespective of their religion. In social action the meeting's delegates want to share the struggles of the poor for a fuller life, to educate the illiterate, to organize domestic and displaced laborers and help them get skilled training. For greater effectiveness and coordination, they propose greater all-India administrative linkage and democratically transparent accountability. Sharing the gospel means working for equality, for the human dignity of those to whom it is denied. Social Activism People's participation is the essence of the democratic process. In actuality, social structures exclude many from the process. Sharing the gospel in this context means working for equality, for the human dignity of those to whom it is denied. This is the philosophy behind the action plan described above. One recognizes echoes of political language, but the composers of the document are not a political party. They are churchmen to the core. They do not speak a distinctively churchy language either, but one of social activists. The plans might be high-sounding and idealistic. Everything might not be realized as desired or planned. But the goodwill is obvious, and it is unlikely to be wholly in vain or go unfulfilled. Does this mission pose a danger or threat to Hinduism? No reasonable Hindus would take it so. Denominational conversion could indeed be perceived as a sociopolitical and cultural threat, especially if it took place on a massive scale. But conversion in the values of a Review for Religious culture does not pose such a threat. The nation and its people can be the better for it. (Will the Indian people then come off the various stereotypes about church, mission, and Christians?) Reflection Individuals can challenge and be challenged by others in dialogue into greater confidence and indifference. Then they will speak without fear their critical as well as creative ideas. Then they will feel accepted with their strengths and weaknesses and will participate with joy and confidence in their own and the common works. They will come up with initiatives that could be discussed, decided, and acted upon. This might be a way of rediscovering Ignatian indifference--through structural changes more in tune with our times. This might be a way of refounding St. Ignatius's Society as our Society. No institute or nation is founded once and for all. It stands always in need of reappropriation and reidentification by new and would-be members or citizens. It is when they are happy with the country or institute that they proudly identify with it and want to strengthen it further. Such a feeling is not an individual's to produce all by oneself. Every member has a personal responsibility to it. The government or the leaders have a major structural and personal responsibility. Friends, I am passing these thoughts on to you in the hope that they may evoke some critical reflections for our common good. 63.1 2004 HILDEGARD MAGDALEN PLEVA A Charism Illumined: Eucharistic Anamnesis and "Viva Memoria" ¯ he Second Vatican Council gave the church an energizing impulse. One of its most generative instructions directedreligious orders and con-gregations to go back into their history, examine early texts and archival material for guidance in reappropriating their founders' inspiration and charism, and thus begin their own rejuvenation. The still burning embers of the Spirit's work were to be fanned into flame and illumine the path ahead in new times and new circumstances. The Order of the Most Holy Redeemer pur-sued this directive in company with their Redemptorist brothers, whose efforts brought its founder, the Venerable Maria Celeste Crostarosa (1696-1755), into the light. Renewed knowledge of her vivacious spirit and mystical ¯ experience was a rediscovery of the institute's charism, the life force to be reappropriated by her sisters, the call to be a living memory of the 40 Hildegard Magdalen Pleva OSSR is newly professed among the Redemptoristine Nuns; P.O. Box 220; Esopus, New York 12429. Review for Religious paschal mystery of Jesus. Our formula of profession says, "You have called me to relive in myself the Mystery of Jesus. and to be a living memorial of it." During my ten years of association with the order and two years within the community, in conversations with friends, lay associates, religious of other congrega-tions, and visitors to our monastery, I have often attempted to explain our charism, to be a "living mem-ory" of Christ (Crostarosa, Dialogues, §104). It does not mean mere imitation; it goes beyond that. My effort to expand on the "beyond" kept falling short. From this sense of inadequacy came a search for a way of defining "living memory" that would be appropriately substan-tial yet comprehensible. The Eucharistic Connection With time and within the misty atmosphere of men-tal conjecture, "living memory" began to merge with Jesus' words in the Liturgy: "Do this in memory (anam-nesis) of me." Suddenly the overlap was not just a coin-cidence of vocabulary. It included a concept of Eucharistic theology explored in graduate school. That first appreciation of Eucharistic anamnesis seemed like a bright star exploding before my eyes, initially blinding in its brightness but then illuminating everything. At the consecration of the Mass, not only is the Body and Blood of Jesus made present under the appearance of bread and wine, but the entire paschal mystery is made present, and not only present but also active among us here and now. We are not merely remembering Jesus' life and sacrifice on the cross. Those events are actively redeeming the world at this m'oment. That explanation of the Eucharistic Liturgy's meaning and power emerged from the past in response to my "living memory" question of the present. It suggested that the concept of liturgical anamnesis could clarify our Redemptoristine concept of "living memory4."1 63.1 2004 Pleva ¯ A Charism Illumined The form and features of this concept emerged from careful reading of Maria Celeste's Dialogues and Autobiography, which provide a rich vein of evidence of her post-Communion meditation experiences. One morning after Holy Communion I heard in the very center of my soul these words of the Credo pro-nounced: "consubstantialem Patri per quem omnia facta sunt" [one in being with the Father, through whom all things were made] so that, filled to over-flowing with divine gifts, it seemed to me that the divine essence was in me . My Lord Jesus Christ. gave me his divine heart, which he enclosed in my breast in place of my own . I seemed to enter into a new life of Love, a life in God. (Autobiography, capi-tolo 18) This morning., my whole soul was transformed into your very substance. (Dialogues, §30) Since your soul is the figure of My substance, what ~ really are you within your spirit, in your very being, if not a living image, a living copy of Me? (Dialogues, §47) After I received Holy Communion . . . I saw You within me and myself changed into You . I felt that just one word was being spoken to me, namely, "sub-stance of the Father" [consubstantialem Patri] . This transformation, O Lord of my heart, of my being into Yours, You deigned to make so many times! (Dialogues, §125) This morning I went to Holy Communion and You transformed me into Yourself so that I entered into the humanity of Your divine Word and began to sacrifice myself to the Father for all people. (Dialogues, §147) You do this precisely by the spirit of observance in terms of your Rule, which was given to Me so that you might be a viva memoria [a dynamic memory] of My life. (Dialogues, §104) These passages speak of a transformation that is not merely an imitative overlay but a participation in the substance, the very essence, of Jesus, in which he in turn is consubstantial with the Father. Nor is it a static par-ticipation, but a highly animated one that propels Maria Review for Religious Celeste "into a new life of Love, a life in God." By such participation and animation, Jesus, his paschal mystery, his work of redemption, is made present and active in our time. For Maria Celeste the incarnation of Jesus was the opening of new territory in the relationship between God and humanity, a territory into which she entered with abandon. By taking part in the Eucharist, the essen-tial act of remembering Jesus, she became substantially one with him, not merely an imitation of him. Gradually these mystical experiences revealed to her the necessity of remembering always, of living a life of remembering, a life of "oneness" with Jesus Christ. Eucharistic Anamnesis The phenomena of Eucharistic anamnesis and "liv-ing memory" each reflect the other. Yet their depth, their power to inform sacramental and spiritual appreciation, was lost over time. While the anamnetic character of the Eucharist was buried under weighty layers of theo-logical argumentation, Maria Celeste's mystical experi-ence of "living memory" was lost to obscurity for more than two hundred years. In the 20th century each became the object of a kind of archaeological dig, a treasure to be unearthed by tectonic shifts brought about by the Second Vatican Council. The crucial feature of both anarnnesis and "living memory" is the ability to make past events and the per-son of Jesus present and active in our time. This idea, however, this connection, is not enough. One must ask where this astounding concept of anamnesis comes from. The answers will more fully illuminate the Redemptoristine charism, and the Catechism of the Catholic Church gives inquirers a start: The Eucharist is the memorial of Christ's Passover, the making present and the sacramental offering of his unique sacrifice . In all the Eucharist Prayers we 63. I 2004 --44 Pleva ¯ A Charism Illumined find after the words .of institution a prayer called the anamnesis or memorial ["Father, we celebrate the mem-ory of Christ . We. recall his passion" etc. / "In memory of his death and resurrection" etc. / "Father, calling to mind the death your Son endured . . . his glorious resurrection" etc. / "Father, we now celebrate this memorial of our redemption. We recall Christ's death, his descent among the dead" etc.]. In the sense of Sacred Scripture, the memorial is not merely the recollection of past events but the proclamation of the mighty works wrought by God for men . They become in a certain way present and real. This is how Israel understands its liberation from Egypt: every time Passover is celebrated, the Exodus events are made present to the memory of believers so that they may conform their lives to them. ¯ . . When the church celebrates the Eucharist, she commemorates Christ's Passover, and it is made pre-sent . "As often as the sacrifice of the cross . is celebrated on the altar, the work of our redemption is carried out." (§§1362-1364) Rooted in Jewish Liturgical Practice The memorial or anamnetic character of the Eucharistic banquet is not a conceptualization newly minted by post-Vatican II sacramental theology. Rather, it is a theological concept found in the oldest Eucharistic Prayers, which reflect how the practices of the early church were deeply rooted in ancient Hebrew liturgical tradition. "The primitive Eucharist was a commemora-tion. Not a commemoration of the Last Supper, but a commemoration of Christ, and of his saving mysteries. The idea . of a 'mere' commemoration (nuda com-memoratio) would have been meaningless to the Jewish mind" (Lash, p. 44). In 1969 Rabbi Marc Tannenbaum, then director of national intex:religious affairs for the American Jewish Committee and an observer at the Second Vatican Council, wrote: "To commemorate and to remember is in the Jewish tradition never a mere Review for Religious memory, but always implies a look toward the future and a making present again" (Breaking of Bread, p. 148). The Jewish Passover Seder is the penultimate expression of the Hebrew commemorative meal, making present in real time the mystery of the Passover of the Lord God. Based upon the work of scholars in Eucharistic the-ology, among them Louis Bouyer, Louis Ligier, Joachim Jeremias, Jean-Paul Audet, and Gregory Dix, an even greater understanding .of the origins of the earliest Eucharistic Prayers or anaphoras is emerging. The most ancient anaphoras conform in structure to the Jewish prayers said at a fellowship meal, espe-cially the birkat-ha-mazon, which was typically anamnetic in char-acter and featured three move-ments: blessing, thanksgiving, and supplication (Audet in Klein, p. 410). Beyond appreciating the stylistic resemblance of early Eucharistic Prayers, it was Gregory Dix who had the insight to consider the Sitz-im-Leben, that is, the insti-tutional setting in actual Hebraic practice which gave specific meaning to these liturgical meal prayers (Klein, p. 413). Dix's insights answered a basic question: What did Jesus, as a Jew of his time, have in mind; what did he mean when he said, "Do this in memory of me" (1 Co 11:24)? "The command of Jesus did not refer to the rep-etition of a sacral fellowship meal. This could be pre-sumed as fundamental to Jewish religious practice. In other words, Jesus did not have to institute a meal, because the meal was already there. What Jesus did was to invest this meal with a new anamnetic character" (Klein, p. 414). For the Hebrew of Jesus' time, the Passover meal was not merely "a subjective, human psy- What Jesus did was to invest this meal with a new anamnetic character. 63.1 2004 Pleva ¯ A Charism Illumined chological act of returning to the past, but an objective reality" undertaken to make the Passover of the Lord perpetually present before God (Bouyer, p. 103). "By the power of the Lord of history, those events are in a sense made present in the liturgy, so that the worshipers are living them ag.ain in their own lives. A Jewish ritual memorial, therefore, is no mere thinking of the past; it is a memorial filled with the reality of that which it com-memorates" (Maloney, p. 265). This was the anamnetic character of the meal. When Jesus said "Do this in mem-ory of me," he invested the meal with a new anamnetic object, that is, the paschal mystery, which is the saving acts of his own life, death, and resurrection. The Implications of Anamnesis for Our Practice Celebrations of the Eucharist in which we share today are the occasions in which we call to mind the person and events of our salvation--Jesus Christ and his paschal mystery--in such a way that we render them liv-ing and active in our own time. The plural pronoun we is operative here. The priest, although acting in persona Christi, is not acting alone. The gathered community is not merely present or participating by observation. The community gathered for the memorial meal is integral to anamnesis, to recalling and thereby making actively pre-sent the person and saving action of the~Redeemer. The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (Sacrosanctum con-cilium) of the Second Vatican Council declares that God's people gathered for Eucharist "offer the immaculate vic-tim through the hands of the priest, but also together with him" (§48). The Eucharistic Prayer emphasizes this integral func-tion by repeated use of the pronoun we. "We thank you for counting us worthy to stand in your presence and serve you" (EP II). "We offer you in thanksgiving this holy and living .sacrifice" (EP III). "We, your people and Review for Religious your ministers, recall his passion, his resurrection from the dead, and his ascension into glory" (EP 2). Indeed, the level of participation penetrates more deeply if the community offer themselves along with the gifts of bread and wine: "Father, we bring you these gifts. We ask you to make them holy by the power of your Spirit, that they may become the body and blood of your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ." In the consecration Jesus becomes uniquely present under the appearances of bread and wine, but also, through the Eucharistic anamnesis and the congregation's living memory, actively present within and among those gathered. This answers the question of the way Jesus Christ becomes actively present at each Eucharistic celebration. According to people's receptive memories, Jesus the redeeming Christ becomes present in those who are united with him in this memorial. In remembering, we become what we remember. Just as the anamnetic character of our Eucharist is rooted in an ancient religious ritual, appreci-ation of the effect of anamnesis is imbedded in our history. St. Fulgentius (467-533), bishop of Ruspe, speaking of the obligation of the faithful to fulfill the words of the Savior at the Last Supper, wrote: "Thus they drink the Lord's cup by preserving the holy bond of love; without it, even if a man should deliver his body to be burned, he gains nothing. But the gift of love enables us to become in real-ity what we celebrate as mystery in the sacrifice." Alexander Schmemann, the late Russian Orthodox scholar of liturgy, wrote about the power of anamnetic memory in his work The Eucharist. His words are so elo-quently reminiscent of the Constitutions of the Order of the Most Holy Redeemer that they" must be quoted at length: In Christ . memory comes to reign and is restored as a life-creating power, and, in remembering, man par-takes not of the experience of the fall., but of the 47 63.1 2004 Pleva ¯ A Charism Illumined overcoming of this fall through "life everlasting." For Christ himself is the incarnation and the gift to mankind of God's memory in all its fullness . The essence of our faith and the new life granted in it consists in Christ's memory, realized in us through our memory of Christ. From the very first day of Chris-tianity, to believe in Christ meant to remember him and keep him always in mind . From the very begin-ning the faith of Christians was memory and remem-brance, but memory restored to its life-creating essence--for . this new memory is a joyous recog-nition of the one who was resurrected, who lives and therefore is present and abides . Faith eternally knows that the one who is remembered lives . The remembrance of Christ is the entry into his love, making us brothers and neighbors, "brethren" in his ministry. His life and presence in us and "among" us is certified only by our love for each other and for all whom God has sent into, has included in, our life, and this means above all in the remembrance of each other and in the commemoration of each other in Christ. Therefore, in bringing his sacrifice to the altar, we create the memory of each other, we identify each other as living in Christ and being united with each other in him. (Schmemann, pp. 128-130) The constitution and statutes of our order assert again and again this understanding of the Eucharistic Liturgy as the agent of "living memory":. The church continues to make present this memorial of the Passover of the Lord, a living bond of 16ve between Christians and a pledge of future glory. Our liturgical celebrations must give witness at one and the same time to the holiness of the Lord and to his loving presence among us . This silent con-templation, maintained in faith and love in the depth of the soul, allows us a personal experience of God and also permits us to enter fully into the plan of redemption . We allow Christ to relive his mys-tery in us by contemplating him in the whole of his life. (§§37-42) Review for Religious Participation by the Holy Spirit's Power The scope of this paper does not permit lengthy dis-cussion of the debate regarding consecratory elements of the Liturgy of the Eucharist. While the church in the West has long held to "This is my body . this is my blood" in the Gospels' Last Supper narrative as the con-secratory formula, the church of the East has always con-sidered the epidesis, the prayer of the invocation of the Holy Spirit, to be the essential mo-ment of consecration. Again it is Alexander Schmemann who calls the debate back to order. "Despite hundreds of treatises written in response to this question, neither aca-demic theological nor liturgi-cal studies have given, alas, a satisfactory answer . We cannot 'break through' to the genuine meaning, embed-ded in the very experience of the church, of the Eucharist as the sacrament of remembrance" (Schmemann, pp. 192- 193). Although today the Catechism of the Catholic Church (§§ 1352-1353) declares the Eucharistic Prayer "the heart and summit of the celebration," specifying the institution narrative as consecratory, the very existence of the old debate reminds us to renew our attentiveness to the work of the Spirit. This attentiveness is important for appreci-ating the anamnetic character of the Eucharistic Liturgy. Each of the four principal Eucharistic Prayers includes an epidesis invoking the power of the Holy Spirit as the agent of consecration: "Let your Spirit come upon these gifts to make them holy" (EP II). By these words we acknowledge that it is by the power of the Holy Spirit Attentiveness to the work of the Spirit is important for appreciating the anamnetic character of the Eucharistic Liturgy. 49 63.1 2004 Pleva ¯ A Charism Illumined - that the gifts are changed. In these words we ask that we too may become h01y, becoming "a living offering to God" (Catechism, §1105) in the mystery we celebrate, the sacrament of remembrance. For Redemptoristines the vocabulary of anamnesis (memory, remember, remembrance, recall, memorial) should be like music to the ears. The charism to be a "living memory" of Jesus was revealed to our foundress during post-Communion meditations in which she expe-rienced the transformative power of the Eucharist accomplished through the work of the Spirit. Her daugh-ters are to be transformed into the "living memory" by participation in the Eucharistic banquet, which was from the beginning a "memory." By remembering we partic-ipate in the change of the Eucharistic elements into the Body and Blood of Jesus and, in turn, we are changed into the very life we remember. The Jesus of Maria Celeste's mystical experiences said: "You shall take on a memory of my life in each hour [of the day]. I shall be the lamp of all your activities, and you shall eat the living food of eternal life which was contained in the works of my life while I was a pilgrim on earth. This is the spirit of the institute: viva memoria and imitation of me just as I lived among you" (Dialogues, §§104-105). Elsewhere this level of attentive remem-bering is referred to as a "fixed gaze." To the degree that Celeste's daughters' devout recollection approximates a fixed gaze, their very lives take on an anamnetic character. Then we make the paschal mystery more present and active in real time. We become the "living memory" of Jesus. Our acts of memory, insofar as they are produced by the Holy Spirit, render us not only spiritual people (pneumatikoi) but also bearers of the Spirit (pneu-matophoroO, a living epMesis (Bianchi, p. 162). By our lives we call down the power of the. Holy Spirit into every cor-ner of the world and the troubled hearts of humanity. Review for Religio,,s My original question concerned the deeper meaning of our charism, to be a "living memory" of Jesus Christ, to make the person of Jesus present in our world in a manner that goes beyond any mere imitation. Our Eucharistic Liturgies are "pregnant with reality" (Crichton, p. 14), a reality Jesus called for at the Last Supper: "Do this in memory of me." Jesus, the incarna-tion of the memory of God, is asking us to become, in turn, the incarnation of his memory in our world. The words of Maria Celeste express self-affirmation and encourage her community today: Now that Your sacred humanity, united to the Word of God, has been glorified . it gives me such a risen life in God that it transforms me into the eternal life of God, as I await the dawning of the new day that will make me blessed for all eternity. (Florilegium, p. 95) If we have it in our power to make present and active the saving work of Jesus by our remembering, the qual-ity of that remembering, our alert presence to it, becomes so much more vital. Seeing the relation between the anamnesis and Maria Celeste's "living memory" intensi-fies our call to be contemplatives. For Redemptoristines, for all contemplatives, or for all who would live their active lives in a more contemplative fashion, the Eucharistic anamnesis can reinforce our effort to live rec-ollected lives, to order our lives by continually remem-bering (and thus reactualizing) the person, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Almost fifty years ago Thoma~ Merton declared, "In the night of our technological barbarism, monks must be as trees which exist silently in the dark and by their vital presence purify the air" (Merton, p. 124). Just as the trees of the forest breathe transforming life into the world, our conscious and active "living memory" is, with the divine breath of the Spirit, cocreator of the saving presence of Jesus in our time. Appreciation of the anam- 63.1 2004 Pleva ¯ A Charism Illumined netic power of our "living memory" is impetus for the life and work of contemplation. Sources Bianchi, Enzo, OCSO. "The Holy Spirit in Monastic Life," trans. Brian Kerns. Cistercian Studies Quarterly 37, no. 2 (2002): 153- 166. Catechism of the Catholic Church. Liguori, Mo.: Liguori Publications, 1997. Crichton, J.D. "A Theology of Worship." In The Study of Liturgy, ed. Cheslyn Jones, Geoffrey Wainwright, and Edward Yarnold SJ. New York: Oxford University Press, 1978. Or see Study, rev. ed., 1992, p. 15. Crostarosa, Maria Celeste. Dialogues, trans. Joseph W. Oppitz. Esopus, N.Y.: Mother of Perpetual Help Monastery, 1981. Dix, Dom Gregory. The Shape of the Liturgy. New York: Seabury Press, 1982. Florilegium: Texts from Mother Maria Celeste Crostarosa, ed. Sabatino Majorano. Liguori, Mo:: Liguori Publications, 1993. Klein, Terrance W. "Institution Narratives at the Crossroads." Worship 67, no. 5 (September 1993): 407-418. Lash, Nicholas. His Presence in the World: A Study of Eucharistic VVorship and Theology. Dayton, Ohio: Pflaum Press, 1968. Maloney, Raymond. "The Doctrine on the Eucharist." In Commentary on the Catechism of the Catholic Church, ed. Michael J. Walsh, pp. '259-269. Collegeville~ Liturgical Press, 1994. Merton, Thomas. Basic Principles of Monastic Spirituality. Springfield, Ill.: Templegate Publishers, 1996. Order of the Most Holy Redeemer (OSSR). Constitution and Statutes. Rome, 1985. Schmemann, Alexander. The Eucharist: Sacrament of the Kingdom. Crestwood, N.Y.: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 1988. Tannenbaum, Marc. "How Mode(n Jews Celebrate Their History." In The Breaking of Bread, ed. Pierre Benoit, Roland E. Murphy, and Bastiaan van Iersel. Concilium, vol. 40. New York: Paulist Press, 1969. Review for Religious RANDALL S. ROSENBERG Eucharistic Devotion in the Rising Generation _~ .~.aismseuse M oafr tAinm SeJ rdiicda a, nhiicgeh jloibg,h inti nthge t3h Me aprecrhs 2o0n0a3l reflections of contemporary Catholics on traditional devotions. In recent times we have witnessed in the United States a rise of the devotion of Eucharistic adoration. How ought this revival to be perceived? Is it merely an attempt to resurrect nostalgic memories of the "good old days"? Or is it the authentic recovery of a lost Eucharistic piety that has had an important place in our tradition? In this "bent" world, both of the afore-mentioned possibilities could be operative. In his April 2003 encyclical on the Eucharist, Ecclesia de Eucbaristia, John Paul II recognizes "positive signs" of an increase in "Eucharistic faith and love." But he also takes notice of what he calls "shadows" with regard to this devotion. He writes: "In some places the practice of Eucharistic adoration has been almost completely abandoned. In various parts of the church, abuses have occurred, leading to confusion about Catholic doctrine Randall S. Rosenberg has taught high school theology and is beginning work towards a Ph.D. in systematic theology at Boston College. His address is 14 Eddy Street; Newton, Massachusetts 02465. 63.1 2004 Rosenberg ¯ Eucbaristic Devotion and sound faith concerning this wonderful sacrament. At times one encounters an extremely meager understanding of the Eucharistic mystery" (§10). John Paul claims that the worship of the Eucharist outside of Mass, as linked to the celebration of the Eucharistic sacrifice, is of "inestimable value for the life of the church." He calls upon pastoral leaders to encourage this devotion which affords the opportunity to "spend time with him, to lie close to his breast like the Beloved Disciple (see Jn 13:25) and to feel the infinite love present in his heart." Surely this intimate language springs from the depths of the pope's personal experience of Christ in adoration: "How often, dear brothers and sisters, have I experienced this, and drawn from it strength, consolation, and support!" (§25). What are we to make of our pope's proclamation? As a faculty moderator on a recent high school retreat, I witnessed students spending some time in Eucharistic adoration. The adoration followed several days of small-group sharing and was linked with the opportunity for the sacrament of reconciliation. Without solicitation, one student remarked to me how powerful this experience was for him. This was not a student regularly involved with campus ministry, nor did he seem particularly interested in matters religious. The student asked me why this opportunity was not more available. It struck me that this generation (I am not very much older) does not carry around the baggage that many middle-aged and older American Catholics carry; that is, there is no liberal-conservative rift dividing them. I am all for healthy theological tension, but young people today are not likely to label those who spend time in Eucharistic adoration traditionalist conservatives, nor those who are concerned about social justice radical liberals. There seems to be a growing sense that the contemplative and active dimensions of the faith ought not to be pitted against each another, but rather are part of the rich and Review for Religious complex life of faith in the modern world. John E Kavanaugh SJ recendy suggested (America, 4 November 2002) that the old dichotomies of liberal and conservative simply do not work anymore. One such illuminating experience for him was an encounter with a prayer group of college students who invited him to speak on the topic of "Real Presence in the Eucharist and in Persons." Many in the church are righdy concerned about an emphasis on private Eucharistic devotion over against the communal dimensions of the faith. Influenced in part by the groundbreaking work of Henri de Lubac SJ, the church has rediscovered the social dimension of the Eucharist, namely, that this powerful sacrament is not only an encounter with the divine, but also a means of fostering unity in the church and among human beings generally. Rightly under-stood, Eucharistic contem-plation could deepen one's relationship with Christ made present under the appearance of bread and wine and also with the assembly of the faithful, the body of Christ. In the midst of our technological culture that fosters noise, clutter, information overload, and a quick fix, and in a world culture that is permeated with violence and war, I propose that we need Christic contemplation and silence. Since my conversation with the student, I have become more convinced than ever that our world not only needs silence, but also hungers for silence. One can commune silently with Holy Mystery in nature or in one's living room, but our sacramental tradition provides us with a special quiet encounter with Jesus. Many in the church are rightly concerned about an emphasis on private Eucharistic devotion over against the communal dimensions of the faith. 63.1 2004 Rosenberg ¯ Eucbaristic Devotion ! The great theologian Karl Rahner SJ--who respected the tradition deeply and engaged modern intellectual developments creatively, and who tried to convince ordinary people that they can be mystics in their everyday activities--warned against the loss of this devotion. In Mission and Grace: Essays in Pastoral Theology, Rahner suspects that those who oppose contemplation of the Eucharist are really uncomfortable with "private, prolonged, contemplative prayer in general; that the objections raised against visits as such are for the most part only a sort of ideological cover, supplied in retrospect, for a general withdrawal from the severe demands of meditation." In his final writings Rahner wrote that the worshiping of Jesus in the sacrament must not disappear. Its history may have started from unnoticeable beginnings. However, in salvation history and in the history of the church, something cannot disappear simply because it started almost without being noticed. No, as Catholics we wish, individually and together, to loo1~ to the sign of the presence of the one who has loved us and has offered himself up for us. It should not be unusual for us to kneel at times in private prayer before the Lord who has saved us. ("Eucharistic Worship," in Theological Investigations x aI0 Eucharistic adoration may also foster the contemplative dimension of a concern for social justice. A hallmark of the theology of Johannes Baptist Metz, famous for his spiritual classic Poverty of Spirit, is what he calls dangerous memories. According to him, what theology often ignores is the history of suffering. We must not do theology, he would say, with our backs turned to Auschwitz, but with a mysticism of eyes open to the dangerous memories, the me.mories of horrendous human suffering. Discourse about the war in Iraq, then, cannot be divorced from the dangerous memory of the Review for Religious young boy who lost his arms and was severely burned in a U.S. missile attack. Not only was he injured, but his pregnant mother was killed, along with his father and several of his siblings. One encounters dangerous memories in the Eucharist. As Pope John Paul has insisted, the Eucharist makes sacramentally present again the horrible sufferings of Jesus, himself a victim of injustice. In the light of the dangerous memory of the cross, Eucharistic adoration provides, if well understood, the opportunity to become conscious of and to lament the terrible sufferings of God's children in our present day. We are given a chance to commune with the one who gave us these haunting words: "Whatever you do to the least of my brothers you do to me." Christ-centered contemplation, then, may lead to Christ-centered action. Although we must avoid letting private devotion seem more important or more central than the Mass, it would be wise to listen to people, especially young people, who desire to spend time in loving contemplation and adoration of the Eucharist. Such devotion may actually build bridges across rifts in the church and in the world, actually make the church more Catholic and catholic. I am convinced that the rising generation is ready to discard divisive political labels and embrace both the prayer and the activity necessary for integral lives of faith. 63.1 2004 SUSAN B. CORDSEN Teresa of Avila and Friendship Teresa was a friend par excellence. She had tremendous natural relational gifts. These caused her great difficulty, but also became keys to her effectiveness as a reformer. Friendship is a central element in her writing as it was in how she lived her life. In her autobiography she writes, "As I grew older, when I began to know of the natural attractive qualities the Lord had bestowed on me (which others said were many), instead of thanking him for .them, I began to make use of them all to offend him.''1 The redemptive learning and teaching that flowered from her experience can be helpful for us today. In her early life, relationships were a con-stant struggle for her. In her autobiography Teresa says that a friendship of hers with a teenage relative "pained my father and my sis-ter" (2.4). She uses her own reflections to illus- Susan B. Cordsen, a lay Carmelite for twenty-one years, is doing graduate studies at Washington Theological Union; 6896 Laurel Street, N.W.; Washington, D.C. 20012. Review for Religious trate and teach "the harm a bad companion can do." Later she speaks of the personal influence of a nun in the convent school she was attending: "This good com-pany began to help me get rid of the habits that the bad company had caused" (2.4 and 3.1). Both the negative and the positive aspects of friendship frame her discussions. In 1536, at the age of twenty-one, she entered the Carmelite Convent of the Incarnation. There "the par-lor" and outside relationships became a major "harm and distraction" for her. In that early period she had a vision of Christ, who "desired to make me understand that those friendships were not proper for me" (7.6). Since she did not know that it was possible to see the Lord in such a personal, experiential way, and since "the vision was not to my liking," she tried to conceal it from her-self (7.7). Concerning these friendships, she ignored other external and internal warnings as well. In 1544 a Dominican confessor, Vicente Barron, iarged her to return to personal times of prayer. Here she reflects: "Spiritual friendship is. extremely impor-tant for souls not yet fortified in virtue--since they have so many opponents and friends to incite them to evil" (7.21). Now she begins to express prayer in friendship terms with her famous definition: "Mental prayer., is noth-ing else than an intimate sharing between friends; it means frequently taking time to be alone with Him who we know loves us." For friendship.to :endure, "the wills of the friends must be in accord" (8.5). Seeing Christ as "friend" who invites us into "friendship" becomes the key and model of her redeemed relationality. Yet her internal struggles remained intense. She says, "For more than eighteen years, I suffered this conflict between friendship with God and friendship with the world" (8.3). Finally, in 1554, she had her profound conversion before the statue of the wounded Christ. Yet, even here, though 63.1 2004 Cordsen ¯ Teresa of Avila and Friendship Though she was deeply reoriented toward friendship with Jesus, she was not fully freed from personal attachments. she was deeply reoriented toward friendship with Jesus, she was not fully freed from personal attachments. This came about two years later. She writes of her new Jesuit confessor, Juan de Pradanos, who led her with skill and gentleness because she was still fragile, "espe-cially with regard to giving up some friendships I had." She was not offending God, but was attached, feeling she would be ungrateful to aban-don them. This would seem to be a rather common state of affairs in people's friend-ships. The friendship is not sinful or "destructive," and to simply discard the rela-tionship would seem disloyal to the friend, and yet the attachment is the very thing that keeps us unfree and interferes with both our friendship with God and our friendship with the person. Turning to God in prayer,. Teresa was for the first time granted a rapture; she heard, "No longer do I want you to converse with men but with angels" (24.5). She com-ments, "These words have been fulfilled." How? By her withdrawing into silent prayer, ending all human friend-ships to speak only with angels and God? No. "For I have never again been able to tie myself to any friendship or to find consolation in or bear particular love for any other persons than those I understand love [God] and strive to serve him; nor is it in my power do to so, nor does it matter whether they are friends or relatives" (24.6). This freed her to become more of a friend rather than drawing her from friendship. This is because her friendship with others now flowed from her friendship with Christ. It is astonishing Review for Religious how deeply and richly she draws on the concept of friendship to express her relationship with Jesus. She notes, again and again that he is a "true" friend. This is a term she uses just before writing about the importance of the sacred humanity of Christ and how we must never seek to go beyond this. "We are not angels but we have a body" (22.6-10). The concept of friendship keeps her connected to the sacred humanity. She writes of how God treats the soul with friendship; she even prays that the Lord make a certain person "our" friend, that is, the friend of both God and Teresa (27.9 and 34.8). God enables in us a sense of mutuality whereby the soul and God understand each other (27.10). This key, friendship, continues in her "Meditations on the Song of Songs." Though a human love story and one often used by mystics to comment on the love of God pursuing and enticing the soul in the image of the bride, Teresa adds her own twist. Her meditation is really on only a few verses and treats the themes of prayer and union as she does in her other works. But here she emphasizes "friendship" and "peace." Quoting the verse "Let Him kiss me with the kiss of his mouth," she asks how dare we speak them. She answers, "The soul that is enkindled with a love that makes it mad desires nothing else than to say these words." Then, after speaking of the Blessed Sacrament, she wonders whether the bride "was asking for that union so great that God became man, for that friendship that he effects with the human. race. Obviously a kiss is the sign of great peace and friendship among two persons.''2 Teresa discusses everything from "friendship" with the devil to our relationship with God as "skin-deep." Using "friendship" to express growth and union, she refers to "another kind of friendship, stronger than this," but adds that "neither is this the friendship the bride seeks" (2.20 and 2.27). "God grants so great a favor as to 6! 63.1 2004 Cordsen * Teresa of Avila and Friendship join [the soul] with himself in a friendship like this" (3.9); "how is it possible that even while in this mortal life one can enjoy You with so special a friendship [that] only those who experience this friendship will understand it?" (3.14 and 4.1). Teresa develops this human love story in many directions, including that of marriage. The fact that she uses it to reflect on divine friendship may help us reflect on the friendship dimension within marriage. As usual, Teresa not only shares her experience, but also reflects on it to help others. In setting up her Carmelite reform, she initially limits her monasteries to thirteen nuns. Here "all must be friends, all must be loved, all must be held dear, all must be helped.''3 She herself knows how difficult this is in practice and tries to point out pitfalls and give guidance. Though written for cloistered women, her insights are practical for us as well. She is concerned about hav-ing "excessive love" for one person and thus failing to love others equally, feeling sorry about an affront to the friend, desiring possessions so as to have things to give as gifts, and looking for times to speak with her and often only about trifling things. Such friendships seldom help each other toward love of God. Yet because we are human we are often drawn more to one person than another and easily become attached. The crucial ele-ments are self-knowledge and awareness (4.6-8). Teresa usually does not recommend cutting off con-tact altogether, which would not be possible in the monastery anyway. "To break away from these friend-ships involving a particular fondness, great care is nec-essary at the outset of the friendship. This breaking away should be done delicately and lovingly rather than harshly" (4.9). She says to limit time together. She is not trying to destroy the friendship, only reorient it. She shows this by the way she speaks of spiritual love, which is what she desires for all friendship. "Even though in Review for Religious the beginning it is not so perfect, the Lord will gradu-ally perfect it. Let us begin by using the suitable means, for, even though the love bears with it some natural ten-derness, no harm will be done provided this tenderness is shown toward all" (7.5). Her advice regarding falling in love with confessors shows her realism and balance. The sisters should "try not to think about whether they love the confessor or don't love him; but, if they do love him, let them love him . A great principle for making much progress is to love the confessor, if he is holy and spiritual and if I see that he is dili-gent about my soul's progress. For our weak-ness is such that some-times this love helps us very much to perform great deeds in the ser-vice of God. If the love is not of this kind, there is danger . There is much need for caution and pru-dence. The best advice is that the confessor not know that there is such affection . If [the sisters] know that he is God-fearing, they should not weary themselves over any temptation . about their great attachment; when the devil is worn out, he will go away." However, if they "become aware that the confessor is turning toward some vanity," they should make their confession brief and seek another confessor:4 Teresa looks to self-knowledge, awareness, patience with our emotions, and God's grace to navigate rela-tionships. Regarding confessors she advises developing internal boundaries rather than trusting external bound-aries to keep relationships proper. Again, it is Christ the friend who shows how we are to be friends together. Teresa looks to self-knowledge, awareness, patience with our emotions, and God's grace to navigate relationships. 63.1 2004 Cordsen * Teresa of Avila and Friendship Teresa says this is "a love with no self-interest at all. All that it desires., is to see the other soul rich with heav-enly blessings" (Way, 7.1). As with all of life, this friendship is not without suf-fering. After speaking of the cross, Teresa asks, "What better friendship than that [Jesus] desire for you what he desired for himself?." (Way, 17.7). This is one of many places where she notes that one of the gifts of Christ's friendship is a sharing in his cross--but the suffering comes not from denying friendship but from attempt-ing to live it without self-interest, to have affection but not attachment. We do not reach this fully in this life. In trying to distinguish the different loves, Teresa says, "I don't think I know which love is spiritual, or when sen-sual love is mixed with spiritual love" (Way, 6.2). Yet this is often the condition we are in. We have the choice of pulling back in fear we will become attached, or of crossing boundaries, ignoring cautions as Teresa did early in her life and fostering distracting and harmful rela-tionships. Or--a third choice--we can choose the path Teresa did and respond to the invitation to friendship with Christ and trust that his grace and mercy will grad-ually bring our friendships in line with his own. In her letters Teresa shows herself to be a very human person. She chides others for not valuing her friendship enough to write more; another "owes her more." Showing great affection, she speaks of being lonely, scolds, encourages, pleads. Her words leap energetically off the pages. There is her great affection for Jertnimo Gracifin, a friendship that brings her much joy and sor-row, and is a puzzlement to others. In her "Spiritual Testimonies" she writes of a time when she "was living in great~ loneliness" and says Gracifin was the only one to "give me comfort, and he had to be absent most of the time." The loneliness continued, and she had a curious intellectual vision of the Lord placing "himself in my Review for Religiot~s arms as in the painting" of the body of Jesus in his mother's arms after being taken down from the cross,s Teresa came to acknowledge her natural gifts for friendship and to thank God for them. She allowed them to be used to draw others to .Jesus. In our world that strives to improve communication skills, set boundaries, express our sexuality neither too much nor too little, where does friendship fit in? The recently beatified Mother Teresa of Calcutta spoke of the great loneliness in the United States. Sexual abuse continues to be a problem and to cause problems in the church and in the world at large. Where is the friendship that St. Teresa of Avila wrote of and lived? Teresa, teach us to be friends of Christ that we may be friends of one another. Notes ~ The Book of Her Life, chapter 1, section 8. Hereafter till note 2, references to this work will be supplied in parentheses in the text. The translations used in this article are those of Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD, The Collected Works of St. Teresa of Avila, Vols. 1, 2, 3 (Washington: ICS Publications, 1987, 1980, 1985). ¯ Note 2 begins a second series of parenthetical references, and note 3 begins a third series. 2 Meditations on the Song of Songs, chapter 1, section 10. 3 The Way of Perfection, chapter 4, section 7. 4 Teresa as quoted in the translators' note to The Way of Perfec-tion, 4.8. s Spiritual Testimonies, 53. 63.1 2004 ROBERT P. MALONEY Five Faces ofRosalie Rendu On 9 November 2003 Pope John Paul II beatified Rosalie Rendu, a Daughter of Charity. She was the Mother Teresa of 19th-century France. Her energy, creativity, and courage leap out from the accounts of those who knew her.~ Fifty thousand people flocked to her funeral on 9 February 1856. What was said that day, and the articles written in her praise, remind me of Shakespeare's eloquent words: When she shall die, Take her and cut her out in little stars, And she will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night.2 The church beatifies and canonizes men and women pre-cisely for that reason: that they may shine out like stars for us, that in the midst of darkness we may see what it really means to be holy. Saints make holiness real, con-crete. In this article I offer five faces of Rosalie Rendu. Prodigious Worker and Organizer Rosalie was born on 9 September 1786, in Confort, a tiny village in southern France. At just fifteen years of Robert P. Maloney CM, superior general of the Congregation of the Mission, is a frequent contributor to our pages. He resides at Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Roma; Italy. ¯ Review for Relig4ous age, she set off for Paris. There she spent more than fifty years of her life in the capital's poorest neighborhood, Mouffetard. Her works were prodigious. She began as a teacher in a primary school, which she later ran. Though she herself had little formal education (biographers say she never managed to write French very well), Rosalie and others labored strenuously to teach children to read, write, and do basic mathematics along with learning their catechism. For young girls and needy women, she soon orga-nized courses in sewing and embroidering. She then founded a day-care center and a nursery school fox; the children of working mothers. For these same mothers she started a branch of the Children of Mary. In addition, she and the sisters ran a center for the distribution of food and firewood, with a pharmacy, a clinic and a clothes dispensary. She helped in counseling the newly founded Society of St. Vincent de Paul. She assisted in the reestablishment of the Ladies of Char-ity in 1840. She cared for the sick and the dying in the recurring cholera epidemics, and throughout her life she visited the poor and infirm in their homes. During the several epidemics between 1849 and 1854, withas many as a hundred and fifty persons dying in the parish every day, Rosalie and the sisters kept doing all they could. They attended to the living, accompanied the dying, and buried the dead. Though Rosalie was not an advocate of orphanages, in 1851 she took over the running of one; in 1852 she began a home for the elderly. The secret of Rosalie's enormous energy was this: she saw the face of Christ in the face of every poor person. 63.1 2004 Maloney * Five Faces of RosMie Rendu In the judgment of the theologian who examined her writings, the secret of Rosalie's enormous energy was this: she saw the face of Christ in the face of every poor person. One of the sisters who lived with her remem-bered Rosalie encouraging the community: "Love our good God very much. Do not be sparing in your duty; serve the poor well, always speaking to them with great kindness . The ruder they are, the more dignified you must be. Remember, our Lord hides behind those rags.''3 Local Superior When she was not yet seventeen years old, a seem-ingly sickly Rosalie was sent away from the novitiate of the Daughters of Charity in the hope that a change of air would improve her health. It is hard to imagine that the air was much better in inner-city Mouffetard, but she thrived there. She quickly won the hearts of the sisters of the house. When she returned to the motherhouse for "habit taking," the local superior sent a letter to the superioress general saying: "I am very happy with this little Rendu. Give her the habit, and send her back to me.''4 And so it was that she took her first step toward becoming the "apos-de of the Mouffetard district," where she would spend the remainder of her life. In 1815, when she was twenty-nine years old, she became the superior. She carried out this service for the next forty-one years, until her death. What was Rosalie like as a superior? Those who gave firsthand testimony about her noted three things: (1) Describing Rosalie's relationship with the sisters in the community, her cousin speaks of her "infinite tender-ness." She was sensitive to what went on around her. Some thought she was sensitive even to a fault. In 1844, when two sisters whom she loved died, Rosalie broke into tears and wrote, "I rebelled in some ways against the hand that struck us, yet I am confident that these two angels will obtain mercy for me.''5 Review for Religious (2) Young sisters loved her. The house where she was superior became a "formation house," so to speak, to which many were sent. From Rosalie they learned first-hand how to serve the poor. Twenty-two postulants lived with her over the years. Eighteen sisters prepared for vows under her direction, starting in 1832. At the time of her death, twelve sisters lived in her community; half of them had been sisters for less than four years. She waged war against pride. One of the sisters says: "In spir-itual direction she pursued this fault relentlessly: 'It's our number-one enemy,' she said. 'Look for it . . . it dis-guises itself to trick us and confuse us, but we must grab it by the throat and choke it.'''6 (3) Rosalie's incredibly active house was also a house of prayer. The community rose each morning at four. One sister testified: "If we had to accompany her on a charitable visit during our prayer time, she said to us as we walked: 'Let's begin our meditation!' She suggested a subject for meditation in a few simple, clear words and entered into prayer." One of her best friends, the Viscount of Melun, quotes her as saying, "I never pray so well as I do in the street.''7 Intrepid Woman By all accounts this tender woman was fearless. Rosalie lived in turbulent times. As a child she experi-enced the Reign of Terror in France; her family hid a nonjuror priest in their home. She experienced the rev-olutions of 1830 and 1848 and the terrible cholera epi-demics of 1832, 1849, and 1854. Rosalie walked among the wounded, the sick, and the dying with little fear for her own health. She and the sisters ministered to thou-sands of cholera victims. The most well-known incidents of Rosalie's bravery took place during the revolutions. When she and the sis-ters hid revolutionaries, Monsieur Gisquet, the chief of69 63.1 2004 Maloney ¯ Five Faces of Rosalie Rendu police, signed a warrant for her arrest. But the local policemen warned him that her arrest would cause a riot in the Mouffetard neighborhood. Gisquet himself went to notify Rosalie of the warrant. She replied: "I am a Daughter of Charity. I have no flag. I help the unfortu-nate wherever I meet them. I try to do good to them without judging them, and I promise you that, if you yourself are ever being pursued and ask my help, I will not refuse it.''s The chief dropped the matter. Fierce fighting broke out within the city during the revolution of 1848. The archbishop of Paris mounted the barricades in an effort to stop the slaughter and was shot dead. The fighting became even more intense. General Cavaignac, later president of France, decided on a massive bombardment of the Mouffetard neigh-borhood, but first offered the sisters safe-conduct out. Rosalie responded to his messenger: "Please thank the general and tell him that we are the servants of the poor and also their mothers and that we want to die with them.''9 Rosalie and the general became lifelong friends. --70J Friend of the Poor and the Rich On many occasions I have walked to the cemetery in Montparnasse to visit the grave of Rosalie Rendu, which is near that of Jean-Paul Sartre. Fresh flowers always lie there. On the simple stone are engraved the words: To Sister Rosalie Her grateful friends The poor and the rich She knew how to be friend to both. The poor loved her deeply because they sensed that she lived out precisely what a witness said she asked of those who accompanied her: "Welcome everyone. Speak to the poor with both kindness and dignity. Do not make them wait. Treat them as you would treat your father, your brothers, your sis-ters.'' 1° The rich, too, were attracted to Rosalie. They Review for Religious found her appeals irresistible. She knew how to engage their energies and their resources in the service of the poor. Her correspondence extends to the archbishop of Paris, superiors general, politicians, doctors, young stu-dents, relatives, and friends. She took on Frederick Ozanam and his companions as apprentices and thus par-ticipated in the birth of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul. From 1833 until Rosalie's death, the Viscount of Melun visited her at least once a week to seek her advice and help in the service of the poor. Among those who gave Rosalie material aid were the king and queen, General Cavaignac, writ-ers and politicians like Lamartine and Caubert, and many local politicians and administrators. The ambassador of Spain, Donoso Cort6z, came to Rosalie's house weekly to receive a list of the poor to visit. When he himself fell ill in 1853, Rosalie assisted him until his death. On 27 February 1852 Rosalie was awarded the Cross of the Legion of Honor. On 18 March 1854 the Emperor Napoleon III and the Empress Eug6nie came to visit her at her house. ¯ The daily line of those seeking entrance into Rosalie's office was long. She worked effici.ently, writing little notes to remind herself of their requests. She sought to find some response, even if inadequate, to all the needs presented to her. Rosalie knew how to engage the energies and resources of the rich in the service of the poor. Faithful, Sometimes Misunderstood, Daughter of Charity Rosalie was revered in her own lifetime. People from all ranks of society came to see her. ~ But her extraordi-nary popularity sometimes raised eyebrows in high cir- 71 63.1 2004 --79,.2 Maloney ¯ Five Faces of RosMie Rendu cles. In the latter part of her life, she suffered from the disapproval of her superiors. The troubles began in the late 1830s, when Jean-Baptiste Nozo was superior gen-eral of the Congregation of the Mission and the Daughters of Charity. Because of a financial scandal, strong opposition to Nozo mounted up. Jean-Baptiste Etienne was his most formidable opponent. News of the conflict hit the papers, so that much of Paris was talking about it. Finally the archbishop of Paris intervened, com-posing a document of interdict against Etienne and oth-ers. Rosalie wanted the matter to end peacefully. She had good connections with the archbishop and went to intercede with him, refusing to leave without an answer and pleading with him to burn the d

Issue 61.5 of the Review for Religious, 2002. ; Challenge and Response Life and Death Theory and Reality Time and Eternity SEPTEMBER OCTOBER 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 5 Revie~ forReligious belps p~ople respo~ anit b~ fi~itbful to God's universal call to bbliness . ~, Oy omaki~tff available to,~tbem tbe sp!ritual legacies that flow from tbi cbarismsof Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ \Veb site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mouut St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, MaD, land 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, ~\tN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2002 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distrihu-tiott, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. view for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Fopp~ Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest Eo Larkin OCarm Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ SEPTEMBER OCTOBER 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 5 contents 454 challenge and response Fire and Flame, Purification and Vocation Donna Markham OP spells out the healthy interpersonal life necessary for the women and men accepted into ministry. 462 Lessons from a Time of Distress Joel Rippinger OSB reflects as a male, a monastic, and an ordained religious on the sexual-abuse scandal in the church in order to discern the voice of the Spirit and the signs of the times in the events we have experienced. life and death 472 Choose Life: Reflections Ten Years after Five Deaths Regina Siegfried ASC celebrates the tenth anniversary of the murder of five Adorers of the Blood of Christ by noting 1) that Liberia is still in the grip of a life-and-death struggle, 2) that the paschal-mystery chari.sm of the ASCs is in clearer focus, and 3) that ASC mission in Liberia continues on. 481 Made Perfect through Suffering Marie Beha OSC reflects on the meaning of suffering seen in the light of the September triad of feasts--the Exaltation of the Cross, the feast of the Sorrowful Mother, and the Stigmata of St. Francis of Assisi. Review for Religious 494 hsory Right Relationships in Consecrated Life Dennis J. Billy CSSR applies the clear and extensive teaching on the spirituality of communion, what it means to live in right relationships with others, to the community life of reli-gious congregations. 511 Contemporary Theologies of the Vows Ellen M. Leonard CSJ compares and contrasts central ideas about religious life from contemporary writers Barbara Fiand, Diarmuid O'Murchu and Sandra Schneiders. 522 Discouragement Viewed through Mark's Gospel Eugene Hensell OSB enters us into an imaginative reading of Mark's Gospel in order to help contemporary religious communities to move away from our preoccupation with quantity and focus on the quality of our discipleship. 535 Time as Gift Carolyn Humphreys OCDS reviews how we might make time, God's gift to us, our gift back to God. 541 Heaven: The Day the Drilling Stopped Sister Mary Stephen Brueggeman PHJC reviews her changing ideas of heaven which bring her closer to the truth of our life forever with God. flep r n en s 452 Prisms 546 Canonical Counsel: Automatic Dismissal 552 Book Reviews September-October 2002 prisms L the United States the first anniversary of the September 11 terrorist attack upon the New York World Trade Center towers and the Washington DC Pentagon headquarters rouses many reflections about the changes in daily life that this vivid sad event brought about. With the subsequent anthrax scare, mail service was delayed and has never fully recovered because of precautionary restrictions on packages and letters. Any major public event-- sporting, political, musical, and even religious--now includes the aspect of a heightened security. Even more evidently, the rigorous security screening that has been imposed upon all air travelers has caused a reduction in the number of passengers, no matter how hard the major airlines have tried to entice them back. Review for Religious, too, has been affected by the September 11 events. Let me share with you how I have experienced this effect. In my fourteen years as editor, I have generally had a large number of manuscripts--unsolicited--flowing across my desk. I estimate that among them I have chosen one third for publication. But last October to January, it was as if the river had run dry. The flow of manuscripts became a trickle, and there was little improvement until the recent summer months. Why such a dramatic and universal change, including even our writers from other parts of the world? Let me offer an interpretation of this phe- Revie'~ for Religious nomenon. There is a classic book about mystical prayer, by an anonymous author, titled The Cloud of Unknowing. I do not want to talk about mystical prayer, but I would like to describe our human status after September 11 as entering a cloud of unknowing. The events of that day raised up life-and-death questions, yes, but more than that. An urge to examine human relationships, religious motivations, social inequalities, and the secularizing of world cultures came to the fore. In addition to these huge issues came the church scandal of sex-abuse by priests and the mishandling of these cases by bishops. Questions abounded, but not many ways of making an ade-quate response. In this tumultuous milieu, talking of pieties and priestly service and religious-life problems seemed unimportant or even petty. Important issues had arisen, and dealing with them seemed far more necessary than writing about them. I was reminded of St. Paul's words "we are perplexed, but not in despair." I believe that we all were caught in a kind of cloud of not knowing what to think or say. We were perplexed, but our mood was not one of despair. True, article submissions show something of a rebound in recent months. But I am under no illusions. Just as we live with the continuing effects of this day, so I believe that we will continue to find that our thoughts are being stirred in new ways, our affect is being shaped, and our choices are being challenged. We still remain perplexed. September 11 is more than a tragic event in one nation's history. The year just past has seen dyings in many aspects of civil and church life. We have entered a new era of examina-tion of our humanity in relation to one another and to God. The September I 1 event challenges the secular domination of any one culture and demands that social inequities within coun-tries and between countrie~ be dealt with in new ways. With St. Paul, we too can say that we are always carrying about in our body the dying of Jesus, the confusion that sin is and brings. But we live--and our authors are continuing to write--so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our body. Our hope finds expression in this prayer: "On each of our dyings, shed your light and your love." David L. Fleming SJ September-October 2002 DONNA MARKHAM challenge and response Fire and Flame, Purification and Vocation What can be said about vocations in the midst of the " fire storm in which we find ourselves these days? How do we encourage idealistic, good-hearted, and generous young women and men to throw their lot in with us in the midst of such sinfulness and pain? Over the course of my Dominican life, when I have been particularly grief-stricken or have found myself afraid or angry or unable to think clearly about a given crisis, I have called upon my Dominican "ancestor" Catherine of Siena to intercede for me, to beg the Spirit to help me. In that spirit I summon up this prayer, written by a contemporary Dominican woman, Patricia F. Walter, to set the scene for these reflections: Fire of Exodus, Flame of Pentecost, time and again you have beckoned us into the desert and propelled us from the upper room. Melt our resistance, dispel the frost of fear. Enkindle our longing, warm our compassion, and transform us in your fiery Spirit. Donna Markham OP, executive director of Southdown, presented these reflections (here somewhat edited and abridged) as a talk at the Serra International Convention in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, on 30June 2002. Her address is Southdown; 1335 St. John's Sideroad East; RR #2, Aurora, Ontario; Canada L4G 3G8. Review for Religious Living Flame of Love, burn deep within us. Give us the strength to endure the heat and set our hearts afire. Catherine herself lived in and preached to a church in crisis. She was somewhat of a scandal in her day. She was a woman who others felt did not know her place, a woman who went into prisons, a woman who traveled with men, a woman seeming "not too tightly wrapped" as she spoke with God in strange ways, a bold woman who dared confront the pope. Nonetheless, we see in her the fusion of wisdom and love that led her to the marginalized and suffering poor, and also to the suffering within herself. God does not call perfect people to discipleship. As Catherine faced the suffering deep within the church and the suffering deep within herself, the dark side of life and of her own personality became apparent to her, and she faced it. She was not afraid to respond to God's call. "Vghen we are whom we are called to be, we will set the world ablaze," she wrote. It was in that conviction that she extended her love unreservedly to those she met along the way. Her compassion and mercy touched the imprisoned, the terminally ill, the intellectually misled, those condemned to die, and social pariahs of all sorts. Her loving determination to be true to whom God called her to be emboldened her. She found the courage to take on some of the most painful situations of her day. Catherine shows us that, even when everything is stripped away (our status, our security, our comfort), if we are whom God has called us to be, unreservedly extending ourselves to suffering people of every kind, we will fill our world with the fire of Pentecost. This is the Christian vocation. It is to this that we dare to call our young people, to be dedicated women and men of Jesus' gospel-- persons who, true to their personal call, bring healing and mercy into this broken world. God does not call perfect people to discipleship. Our Contemporary Context These days we Catholics are experiencing how suffering calls us to purification and forgiveness, how it beckons us to September-October 2002 Markham * Fire and Flame, Purification and Vocation transformation. God's Spirit nudges us in our shock and sadness to open our innermost selves ever more humbly to the Pentecostal fire of conversion. We do so in the assurance that a loving and faithful God promised to be with us in the cloud by day and, in the darkness of the night, to be with us as a pillar of fire. So it was for every stage of the Israelites' journey (Ex 40:38), and so it is for this suffering church, brought low and humbled in desert days. We count on God to be with us now, to lead us forward and to call us to purification and transformation. The community of faith needs leaders who are as generous and dedicated as they are unafraid. We count on strong lay leadership, and we count too on those who are willing to give themselves to the service of the gospel as chaste, celibate religious and clergy. Our humbled and sinful church--led by God throughout salvation history and infused with God's spirit-- calls forward those who will lead. We dare to do so knowing full well that this is an extraordinarily complex time, a time of shattered trust, the disillusion of broken shards. At the dawn of this postmodern era, when we face crises in our world and in our church, we more than e~er need leaders who will counter narcissistic individualism and alienated self-reliance. We need leaders who will witness to and proclaim the healing power of a compassionate and merciful God. We cannot settle for mediocrity. Among us are spirit-filled women and men. Members of our families, they are old, young, and in between. We need to believe in the church's power to be an influence toward good; we need to pray for God to call them, and we ourselves need to call them. Rampant skepticism, pervasive questioning, and the deconstruction of authority typify this emerging postmodern era. We can neither turn back history nor simply reapply modern solutions (that worked well several decades ago) to postmodern crises. Walking along humbly and perhaps quite anonymously in these fragmented times are those who will inspire us and help us make sense of what appears chaotic and meaningless. My sense is that the only way we can survive on this planet is by countering postmodern deconstruction with gospel-focused reconstruction. The leaders of the postmodern faith community must be courageous souls willing to pose serious and soul-searching questions. Will we proclaim with our actions and our Review for Religious words the centrality of relationship with God, with the communion of saints? How will we commit to sharing faith across the community of believers, with Christians and with other persons of faith as well? Will we act as agents of healing and reconciliation in our broken world? Will we develop new ways of standing amid the tension of our differences, becoming parmers rather than adversaries in the midst of some inevitable conflict? Clearly, perhaps more than ever, we need clergy, religious, and lay leaders who will help us notice the good that we hold in common and will move us to deepened generosity, justice, compassion, and forgiveness. VCho are these people who will minister among us, this humbled people of God whom we call church? Those who can be instruments of healing and hope; those who will venture into areas of the world, or of the intellect and the soul, where others cannot or will not go; those who will walk into areas of human experience that desperately need the gospel to be proclaimed-- women and men courageous enough to let themselves feel the Spirit's fire, become deeply converted, and thereby lead others to conversion. Aptitude for Priesthood and Religious Life This is no time to settle for less-than-healthy p~ople in our seminaries and formation houses. We do not ask for perfect people, but we ask for fundamentally healthy people. A balanced and healthy spiritual life--people at home before God, with a personal relationship to God--is the basis of a vocation. Without sometimes finding Jesus in the contemplative silence of prayer, and also in activity with and among the worshiping community, ministerial life becomes hollow rhetoric and wooden routine. Similarly, as people's relationship with God must be strong, so must their relationships with others be mature, rich, and fulfilling. We all have memories of relational disasters that have punctuated the history of ministry in the church. Frightened, socially uncomfortable, hostile, and aloof religious and clergy have been professed or ordained, sometimes unwittingly and sometimes as a conscious way of filling slots. At this time we must not repeat such arrangements. Rather, we must count on psychologically stable men and women who can handle the Septentber-October 2002 Markham ¯ Fire and Flame, Purification and Vocation demands of working in a church and world that are in a period of upheaval. The capacity to endure the stresses of this time, remain faithful to the gospel, and proclaim the countercultural message of Jesus' compassion and care is predicated upon mature psychological development. Relationship with God, relationship with others, and relationship with oneself constitute the basic health of ministers of the gospel. The mature human being is able to connect with others, can sometimes separate from others without becoming despondent, and can be interdependent, reliant on others. Without his intimate relationship with God, Moses could not have risked the harshness of the desert, the Israelites' long exile, without a clear home, without even the comfort of a clear destination. All the while, however, the pillar of fire was there. And it is still with us. When we are grounded in relationship with God--even when we are'not certain of the terrain we walk upon, even when we seem lost, even when we are tempted by mirages or seduced by the securities of the past--we dare to continue on. A strong reliance on God enables healthy ministers to rely also on companions in the difficult search for a true and loving response to the signs of these times of ours. Those who cannot relate, who do not have close or sustained friendships, or who are exploitive or manipulative in their interactions with others do not belong in the priesthood or religious life. Nor do stiff, distant, rigid, detached persons who are dismissive or controlling of others. Living with a damaged ability to connect with others in healthy ways, such persons are highly vulnerable to exploitive sexual behavior. As the ability to connect with others and with God is important, so is the ability to take leave, to separate from others. In the spiritual life there are times when God seems silent or distant. Spiritually healthy persons are attuned to the God of silence, the God shrouded in the cloud. Emotionally healthy individuals can tolerate separation. They do not function out of an insatiable neediness for continued nurturance and affirmation. Clingy, demanding, possessive people do not exercise ministry well. Their pastoral style is indecisive, hesitant, and largely ineffective. Good pastoral ministry includes the capacity to be interdependent. Priests and religious must be able to find God in Review for Religious the community of believers, even as they are stretched and challenged within that community. Stand-alone "talking heads" who believe their mission is to infuse knowledge and faith into subordinates manifest the worst of postmodern narcissism. Puffed-up arrogance issues from deep insecurity and gnawing inadequacy. Because they are preoccupied with themselves, their pastoral style is likely to be experienced as secretive and mystifying. The women and men accepted into ministry today must be secure in their personal identity and confident in God's incredibly persistent accompaniment, even in the nighttimes of their experience. They must be deeply aware that the mission of Jesus transcends their own self-focus. We might well ask ourselves what must occur in our admission and formation processes to ensure that those who will be ordained or professed are persons of this kind. As is evident from these comments, a healthy interpersonal life is the place to begin. In her classic book, The Birth of the Living God, psychoanalyst Anna Maria Rizzuto comments exquisitely on the important connection between people's relationship with God and their ability to form relationships with others. People's relational life--including their ability to depend on, separate from, and collaborate with others--is mirrored in their God quest and thus is the touchstone for their spiritual life as well as their ministerial life. This is evident in Moses' life in the desert, in the lives of the disciples' gathered and inspirited in Pentecost's upper room, and in the life of Catherine of Siena bringing the gospel's truth to so many. Implications for Formation When, from their personal experience of candidates, admissions board members have made positive evaluations, those judgments should be confirmed by psychological evaluations. Far from being enemies of the faith journey, the social and behavioral sciences can give candidates valuable insight and assist their continued growth, along with confirming that they have the psychic strength to handle ministry in a restive church. The Thomistic adage that "grace builds on nature" seems apt. That is, we cannot take severely damaged persons into our seminaries September-October 2002 Markham ¯ Fire and Flame, Purification and Vocation and religious communities with the expectation that somehow, if they pray enough, they will be able to take the stress of ministry today with a modicum of effectiveness. That would be unfair to both the individual and the people of God. Psychological evaluation is helpful in screening out those who have personality disorders or cognitive deficits that would interfere with trustworthy and effective ministry. After admission to a seminary or a religious congregation, discernment continues. That two-way process of determining if there is a fit between the individual's gifts and the charism of priesthood or a particular religious institute should be diligently undertaken by the candidate and the formation directors. If either party has any doubt, the process should be terminated. Serious errors are made when either the individual or the formators decide to continue the process in spite of serious concerns. The candidate who says he or she must simply pray harder in order to be happy and at peace in the life, or the formator who says "Let's give him one more chance" or "Let's send her to psychotherapy," is setting the stage for unhappiness or, worse, for future ministerial dysfunction. The discernment process must take place in prayer and serious dialogue. Wonderfully dedicated persons may not be called to a life of chaste celibate ministry. Doubts on either side necessitate making the difficult decision to terminate the process. In light of the demands of these times, other things too seem imperative in fostering healthy vocations in seminaries and houses of formation. Along with necessary courses of study, serious spiritual direction by trained directors is probably more important today than it ever has been. The general quest for meaning in our culture, people's longing for connection to the Sacred, and pervasive skepticism affect all of us and inevitably affect the spiritual life of candidates for priesthood and religious life. Assisting candidates to have a contemplative personal relationship with God and to be comfortable seeking harmony with God's spirit active in our world is surely a crucial undertaking of the formation process. Candidates today must experience a radical call to ministry. They must have a strong altruistic desire to extend themselves to others, especially those in critical need. Central to formation, and I would say crucial today, is some form of immersion among Review for Religious the marginalized, the disenfranchised, the suffering, the angry. The world cries out for compassion and healing. People yearn for the love that can cast out the terror that lurks in corners of rage and despair. Without burning desires to put lives wholeheartedly at the service of Jesus' mission, without willingness to feel uncomfortable or inadequate, ministry in the postmodern marketplace is likely to be sadly ineffective. Critical and Creative Fire It is my growing sense that we are not engaging in formation in ways that meet the needs of persons preparing to minister in this time. I wonder if we are not still imposing modern solutions on postmodern realities. In a world disconnected, divided, and fragmented, heightened attention to community-building seems crucially needed. With our seminaries and houses of formation still separated from the culture, I wonder if we are missing something terribly significant as we prepare people to be healing agents in that culture. Regarding formation, critical and creative thought is needed. Varied apostolic opportun-ities, cooperation across gender lines, and intelligent immersion in the crises of these times must be balanced by solid theological knowledge and spiritual experience and commitment. We search for ways to promote vocations, and we strive to have minds and hearts ever more ready for the fire of God's Spirit. We believe that our faith life is precious, that healing can and will happen, that there is more life than death, no matter how cold or dark things may seem. Like Catherine, we too pray that our resistance may be melted, that the frost of our fear may be dispelled, and that, warming us by burning away impurities in us, God will give us a fierce fervor that can set hearts of the next generation on fir!! In a world disconnected, divided, and fragmented, heightened attention to community-building seems crucially needed. Septentber-October 2002 JOEL RIPPINGER Lessons from a Time of Distress Inf the citizens of the United States developed an entirely ew way of looking at things in the months after 11 September 2001, members of the Roman Catholic Church in North America underwent a similar transformation in the first six months of 2002. The numbing succession of stories on cler-ical sexual abuse, episcopal cover-ups, and lay outrage over the betrayal of trust by church authorities have constituted a seismic shock, whose tremors continue within the Catholic Church in the United States. The reaction of laity and religious alike has been accelerated and imensified by the extensive media cover-age of these matters. In describing American Catholic reaction to the sexual-abuse scandal, one can say that it is equal parts outrage, sad-ness, and alienation. One of the notable and positive consequences of these events is that church authorities have given greater heed to the voices of Catholic lay people. Opinions of the laity are now received with a seriousness and sympathy that until recently were hard to detect. This development is all to the good. At the same time, the ordained in the church and those in positions of authority have been chastened and humbled more than many would have thought possible, an eventuality that few think would ever have been self-initiated. All that being said, a perspective on recent events that has not received much attention is that of religious in the church. Joel Rippinger OSB writes from Marmion Abbey; Butterfield Road; Aurora, Illinois 60504. Review for Religious More particularly, I can speak from the position of a male, a monastic, and an ordained religious. Perhaps more uniquely, I can speak as an historian whose perspective sees all that has occurred as an unprecedented watershed in the church's his-tory. From this perspective my hope is that my reflection may enable fellow religious to discern the voice of the Spirit and the signs of the times in the events we have experienced. Before attempting an objective historical judgment of this crisis in Catholicism, an inventory of personal emotions seems appropriate. The images that come to mind are of being caught in a storm at sea without a rudder or being thrown into one plot twist after another like a character in an action film. For any man who spent all of his adult years as a religious (and then also as ordained), never before these events was there a need to cope with a feeling of collective shame. If at one time vowed celibates sometimes felt that they were being distortedly per-ceived as asexual persons or just marginalized singles, now they felt that people were perceiving them as among the sexually perverse. The sense of accomplishment that for many years had accompanied their apostolic labors was now undercut by reve-lations that the very people being served had been betrayed by ministers themselves. People have long been aware, of course, that religious have in their communities a support system that diocesan priests and numerous lay ministers often do not have. I agonize over the plight of the growing number of new DPs, not displaced persons but displaced priests, men who have been removed from their assignments as a result of allegations but who lack access to the same network of healing that religious communities have and who, hounded by the press, seem to have become nonpersons like people struck from party lists in totalitarian states. For the increasing number of religious engaged in the ministry of spir-itual direction, the size of the crisis is soon evident. Lawyers and public-relations personnel for dioceses find themselves in a war zone as they face a hostile press and wounded families of vic-tims of sexual abuse. Catholic social services confront the dispir-iting discovery that their funds have been siphoned away for payments to victims of sexual abuse. Ranks of good priests find their public profile diminished and their spiritual strength sapped as they go about their ministry with the self-conscious- Septeml~er-October 2002 Rippinger ¯ Lessons from a Time of Distress ness that comes from ,facing misplaced suspicion at every turn. It is arresting to consider that among the few safe places of hos-pitality and confraternity for these persons to seek restoration in are religious houses. The Lens of History When one looks at the present crisis historically, a number of seminal issues come to the surface. The first is that nativist and anti-Catholic sentiment, so powerful in various periods of American history, has reappeared. That sentiment was clearly seen in the way that the secular press seized on the issue of sex-ual abuse. The New Yorker and National Review, the Boston Globe and the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel, odd bedfellows on other topics, joined in their insistence on full disclosure and even in their misunderstandings of Catholic teaching. The confusion of the vow of consecrated celibacy of religious and the promise of celibacy taken by diocesan priests was only one of many errors regarding the Catholic Church that appeared in the press. Fact checkers could be unconcerned that some simple down-to-earth accuracy escaped their investigative radar scanning. The print media, however, paled in comparison with the television indus-try. The traditional networks and the cable news leaders were both drawn to the story. Whether it was the American cardi-nals meeting in Rome or the American bishops meeting in Dallas, the confluence of church symbolism, sexuality, and inept or corrupt authority drew coverage that smacked of tabloid jour-nalism. (One had to strain to find any voice given to superiors of religious houses or congregations. With a few notable excep-tions, both local and national networks ignored that realm of Catholic vowed life.) In all this, one wonders what direction the film industry, already given to frequent caricatures of Catholic priests and religious, might take in future screenplays involving the church. Compared with earlier periods of anti-Catholicism in American history, however, contemporary treatment is less offensive. When one thinks of the fictionalized treatment of women's religious life in The Awful Disclosures of Maria Monk in the period prior to the Civil War, even the present-day embel-lished broadsides are slight in comparison. As much as the polit- Review for Religious ical cartoons that burst into the attention of the American pub-lic in 2002 seemed to lack all respect for the institutional church, they do not approach the Thomas Nast cartoons of the 19th century or the caricatures of Al Smith when he ran for president in 1928. An element of the current crisis that is a significant change in popular perception of the Catholic Church in the United States is an anticlerical slant. The American hierarchy, which until recent years had been heralded for its leadership regarding respect for life and in forming public policy on social-justice issues, was now the target of not only mavens of the media but also many ordinary Catholics. On the intertwined matters of sex and money and power, people scrutinized the conduct of the church's ordained authority figures. For those called to witness to the evangeli-cal counsels of consecrated celibacy, poverty, and obedience, there was little chance to miss the irony. While the United States for years resisted the per-vasive anticlericalism of European nations such as France, Italy, and Spain, it is increasingly evident that the status of the ordained in North America has been reduced markedly. Although this reduced status has not been felt with the same forcefulness among religious men and women, the high percentage of ordained members among the former and people's proclivity to think of both groups together sug-gest that the status of religious in Catholic eyes will be not be as high as it was up to the council. Beyond any doubt, there is a growing resentment toward the clerical culture of recent years. Whether directed towards closeted decision making by bishops or towards an air of unassailable authority among local priests, resentment is real and not restricted to feminists or to lay men and women with liberal agendas. Establishing the extent of this resentment by opinion polls would not seem as pressing a need as dealing with discernible causes of such resentment. It is hard to gauge just how powerful the media were in generating adverse public opinion against the Catholic Church Nativist and anti- Catholic sentiment, so powerful in various periods of American history, has reappeared. September-October 2002 Rippinger ¯ Lessons from a Time of Distress Scandalous behavior on the part of the clergy and religious, and also closeted policy making on the part of bishops, have been recurrent themes of American Catholic history. in the face of so much questionable behavior. Today's media have no real historical antecedent. The media treatments of Watergate and Humanae vitae provide matter for suggestive comparison but not for accurate assessment. In the public eye, the hierarchy and its representativesappear to have suffered an erosion of credibility that is without parallel. Insofar as this will have an effect on the church's image as a whole, it is bound to undermine the perception that ordinary Catholics and others have of members of religious congregations. Another historical perspective worth noting is that scandalous behav-ior on the part of the clergy and reli-gious, and also closeted policy making on the part of bishops, have been recur-rent themes of American Catholic his-tory, not merely developments of recent years. One strains to see such histori-cal awareness present in assessments of today's situation. Before the screening mechanisms of today, communities of men and women religious often took in individuals whose pasts were at best questionable. When sexual promiscuity or the misuse of alcohol occurred, typically it would take place outside the cloister and.involve the clergy in their pastoral assignments. When such misconduct became known publicly, the tolerance of the faithful was amazing, especially when the perpetrators would be reassigned to other parishes or missions. Therapeutic interventions and the reporting of specifically criminal actions to civil authorities were absent as procedural options until recent decades. Even many years after these events, historians found themselves frustrated by the selective purging of pertinent correspondence or data in community and diocesan archives. The upshot was that the press did not have access to records in the manner that exists today. In addition, there was an understanding that journalists would not cross a line in regard to investigating Catholic Church institutions. The culture that produced Hollywood's idealized images of priests and religious Review for Religious portrayed by Spencer Tracy, Bing Crosby, Loretta Young, Gregory Peck, and Ingrid Bergrnan did not deem it appropriate to uncover the darker side of that image. New Aspects of the Present Crisis One striking irony in the unfolding of recent events in the sexual-abuse scandal is the supporting cast that came into the public eye. The pray, pay, and obey lay people of the preconciliar era had now acquired positions of power and influence within the church. So, although the persons accused of criminal or immoral behavior were almost exclusively male and ordained, the church voices being heard were largely lay and even female. Women religious serving as chancellors (coordinating the func-tioning of diocesan offices) were asked to speak for the church. Lawyers, whether representing victims or perpetrators, pro-fessed their Catholicism and often a background of Catholic education. Catholic education, in fact, has had a role in the overall picture of the current sexual-abuse crisis. The primary apostolic work of many religious communi-ties, religious education has proved to be the very venue in which much sexual abuse took place. The large-scale lawsuits instituted against orders in Canada and the United States (to say nothing of Ireland and Australia) for systematic victimization of students signaled how vulnerable these institutions had become. The moral scandal in all of this seems to have been more the sin of omission by persons in authority who failed to intervene than the sexual crimes themselves. Some critics took note of the lack not only of moral integrity among administra-tors of Catholic schools, but also of a professional stance and adequate structures to deal with such criminal behavior. In both cases, administrators of religious schools were forced to admit to a complicity in allowing perpetrators of abuses to continue in their work. This situation pointed to a real deficiency in religious for-mation as well. Just as the sexual-abuse scandals in the United States in the last half of the 20th century indicated the flawed formation provided for many priests in seminaries, so too the formation programs of religious communities do not appear to have prepared people well for celibate commitment. Celibacy September-October 2002 Rippinger * Lessons from a Time of Distress and sexuality in formation programs were usually treated only in a general and allusive way that was felt to be circumspect, seldom with a candid and detailed explanation of realistic areas of struggle. An even sadder irony is that considerable numbers of vocations to the religious life were themselves sexually abused. Fear of divulging any information about such abuse only made the climate of conflicted feelings and shame more pronounced. Maintaining that secret and carrying the hurt of their past exacted a price that religious orders are only beginning to real-ize. As important as the vow of consecrated celibacy was for the identity and witness of all religious, it did not "keep up" with the culture. The sexually saturated American culture since the 1960s sent people to religious houses with sexual experience and atri-tudes that were considerably removed from, if not at cross pur-poses with, the ascetical tools they were expected to acquire in their spiritual life. For many generations, candidates came to religious com-munities at an early age and led lives sheltered from the wider world. In recent decades, more mature (that is, older) candi-dates with more education and more independent and sophis-ticated career experience made for an entirely different set of expectations. As much as Generation Xers and the millennium generation were recognized as requiring a new manner of for-marion, especially for developing the skills required by a celibate commitment and for developing a deeper understanding of their sexual identity, formation programs that provided this were the exception rather than the rule. Sadly, too, the emerging need in the last decades of the 20th century to assist older religious who had awakened to their sexuality as a more complex reality than they had previously realized was typically overlooked or ignored by religious communities. In recent years there has been tension and conflict between the discipline of psychology and the more traditional skills of the spiritual life such as fasting, mortification, and a deepening prayer life. Too frequently the matter appeared as an either/or proposition. Either one bought into the therapeutic model and relied upon the work and recommendations of trained clini-cians to deal with misbehavior, or one thought that only an ascetically proficient religious could be trusted to give effective witness. In truth, both the discipline of psychology and the tra- R~vie~ for Religious ditional methods of acquiring gospel holiness were needed as partners, not opponents. Religious superiors, many of whom had trained therapists in their communities, began to see the need to model such a partnership. Another facet of religious life that has been accentuated by the distressing events affecting the larger church has been, for want of a better term, a sense of entitlement. Part of the judg-ment rendered on the American ~riesthood by contemporary observers is that ordained men have generally been encouraged to see themselves as special, people having a status that put them on a pedestal. The connection of this attitude with nar-cissistic behavior and a feeling of deserved entitlement is not hard to make. The same holds true for the attitudes of exclu-sivity and domination that were attached to the role of the ordained. Insofar as religious communities, consciously or unconsciously, adopt such attitudes, they play into the hands of those who want to write them off as irrelevant to the modern world. One of the commonly employed descriptions of religious life in the last forty years of renewal has been its prophetic role. The term implies a forceful, unsparing, and honest stance in the face of evil or oppression. The fact that the veil on much of the evil behavior in the Catholic Church had to be lifted by persons and institutions outside it says much about consecrated life's complicity. For many years, communities and congrega-tions expended much energy and resources on the small minor-ity of the "troubled." It became standard operating procedure to deal with such matters in the closed circle of community. The reasons for this seemed evident. First of all, only the superiors would have all the facts to make the decision. And there was the need to respect both promised confidentiality and the good name of the institution. Somehow this learned behavior was able to compromise any impassioned effort to deal with the issues underlying these cases of moral failing and misbehavior. How much of the moti-vation behind this was because of religious obedience and humil-ity and how much of it was indifference and a desperate desire to preserve an image is hard to say. But the fact remains that few voices of prominence from the ranks of religious (one thinks of the Dominican Father Thomas Doyle, whose recommendations September-October 2002 Rippinger ¯ Lessons from a Time of Distress on sexual abuse to the American bishops in 1985 were largely filed away) were willing to play David against the Goliath of the church hierarchy. In some respects, many church authorities, when confronted with the revelation in early 2001 of sexual abuse of religious women in Africa by church figures, were other instances of not wanting to hear the prophetic voice. The history of religious life tends to teach that the minis-terial needs of each generation change, and so religious com-munities have to adapt to those needs. The church today would do well to prepare a good number of compassionate and com-petent men and women religious to minister to the victims of sexual abuse. The great capacity of religious in previous eras to form new ministries and institutions to deal with changing pas-toral needs will be tested again in this case. The professional training needed to provide such personnel should be a part of ordinary programs of formation. If seminaries throughout the United States are now committed to detailed screening and comprehensive instruction in the area of sexuality and celibate skills, religious communities should do no less. Historians can also be of assistance in future years. When one reads the available popular or scholarly histories of reli-gious congregations and communities in the United States (and they are many), one searches largely in vain for any serious or systematic discussion of sexual misbehavior, or of substance abuse and severe emotional problems. Part of the reason for this, as alluded to earlier, is that much of the record of such activity has been expunged from archives and other records. But there is no evading the truth that such scandals have had an influence on the character and development of many commu-nities and congregations. A beginning needs to be made towards having discreet, honest, and sensitive histories written on such matters so that the problem of silence and averted eyes no longer prevails. In the history of the modern church and modern conse-crated life, real transformation and spiritual progress have almost always been initiated by outside events. The Protestant Reformation and the French Revolution's destruction of reli-gious houses had positive effects within the Catholic Church. Reformed congregations and new houses of religious emerged to confront the new challenges of the time. Review for Religious The situation today, in the church and in North American relig!ous life, has similarities with those earlier historical moments. As much as the current crisis contains elements that are entirely new (for example, the mass media that shape much of public opinion and the "age of litigation" that surrounds the church in the United States), there nonetheless is much to learn from both the distant and the immediate past. New voices must be heeded, and a new genera-tion of leaders will be needed to change church and com-munity structures that have failed. To accomplish that daunting challenge, they must preserve the best of tradition and listen more carefully than their predecessors to the lessons of the past and the voice of the faithful around them. New approaches to ministry will be proposed, and they will enlist the ranks of religious women and men to The church today would do well to prepare a good number of compassionate and competent men and women religious to minister to the victims of sexual abuse. redirect their commitment and their resources. A new paradigm of formation in religious life must more realistically and pro-foundly prepare people to live a celibate commitment. Such a paradigm will blend the distinctive charism of tradition with the revised understanding of how religious life at the dawn of the new millennium has been changed unalterably by yet another tectonic shift in the geography of consecrated life. The proto-cols of the past (whether they be called secrecy, damage control, or protecting the institutional image at the expense of individ-uals) have been found wanting. It is incumbent upon the present and future generations of religious to effect a conversion wor-thy of their vowed commitment. September-October 2002 life and death REGINA SIEGFRIED Choose Life: Reflections Ten Years after Five Deaths Ten years ago five Adorers of ~he Blood of Christ were murdered in Liberia, where the congregation had had missionaries for twenty-two years. It seemed then that the deaths ended what the sisters had worked hard to build. God, though, told us long ago: "I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live" (Dr 30:19). Now, ten years later, some of the picture does not look nearly as bleak as it did in 1992. Three things are more obvious now than they were when the five Adorers were killed on 20 and 23 October 1992. One is that Liberia is still in the grip of a life-and-death struggle; another is that the paschal-mystery charism of the ASCs is in clearer focus for many members. The third is that the ASC mission in Liberia has not ended with the deaths of the five missionaries. Commemorating the tenth anniversary and celebrating the lives of the five murdered ASCs, this article focuses not on their deaths Regina Siegfried ASC last wrote for us in our May-June 2002 issue. Her address is Department of Theological Studies; Saint Louis University; P.O. Box 56907; St. Louis, Missouri 63156. Revi~'w for Religious but on the situation in Liberia and on the valiant spirits of people there who continue their legacy. The community's mission in Liberia began in 1970 in the coastal village of Grand Cess, in the Cape Palmas diocese. By 1984 the Adorers had eleven sisters ministering in Gardnersville (a suburb of the capital city, Monrovia), in Kle, and in Grand Cess. In 1989 civil war broke out, with Charles Taylor leading the rebel forces. Allegedly, rebel soldiers shot Joel Kolmer ASC and Barbara Ann Muttra ASC on a Tuesday, while they were on a short automobile journey away from their Gardnersville convent, and three days later other rebels came to their convent and shot Kathleen McGuire, Agnes Mueller, and Shirley Kolmer. My community has had ten years to assimilate those stark facts, to grieve intensely, to remember lovingly, and now to celebrate gratefully those lives generously poured out. Liberia Ten Years Later To keep these five deaths in perspective, it is necessary to realize that, since 1989, 200,000 Liberians have died; 800,000 more are refugees in neighboring countries and elsewhere. More than 1 million Liberians are internally dis-placed within the country. All of the country's infras-tructure lies in ruins and the economy has collapsed. However, leaders of the seven warring factions in Liberia are engaged in a lucrative underground econ-omy. In June 1996, deputy assistant secretary of state for African affairs. Ambassador William Twaddle testified before Congress that the National Patriotic Front of Liberia alone may have made $75 million a year from the sales of Liberia's timber, iron ore, rub-ber, gold, and diamonds.' The murder of Liberian President Samuel Doe in 1990 brought intense civil war. The seven Adorers then in Liberia fled the country. By March 1991 Sisters Shirley Kolmer and Joel Kolmer returned and were followed in August by Sisters Barbara Ann and Agnes and by newcomer Sister Kathleen. The sisters worked with youth to help them refocus their lives after fighting at too young an age. September-October 2002 After the sisters' deaths in 1992, fighting .continued to devastate the country. In September 1996 Ruth Sando Perry headed the Liberian New Transitional Government. During that same year armed conflict once again erupted in Monrovia, but by August the warring factions signed the Abuja II Peace Accord. Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf opposed Charles Taylor, leader of one of the factions; he defeated her for the presidency in May 1997. On 14 March 2001, testifying before the House International Relations Subcommittee on Africa, Senator Russ Feingold unequivocally labeled him a war criminal: "We have all read the appalling accounts of atrocities committed in the region. I believe that some of the responsibility for these terrible abuses rests upon Charles Taylor's shoulders. In fact, I believe that Liberian President Charles Taylor is a war criminal." Jeffrey Bartholet's in-depth article and analysis of Taylor in the 14 May 2001 issue of Newsweek argues that Taylor is "a dictator adrift . He maintains the faCade of democracy, while ensuring that no one threatens his power" (p. 31). In May 2002 the International Herald Tribune reported that fighting had once again broken out in Monrovia. Taylor's government troops attempted to quell a rebel offensive. Adding to Taylor's self-serving indifference to the plight of the people of Liberia are other grim conditions that compound the misery: child soldiers, illegal diamond trade, crumbling and destroyed country-wide infrastructures, and deforestation of a once breathtakingly beautiful and fertile land. Boys orphaned by the war joined factions that offered promises of booty, power, and the glamour of guns. Girls became the mistresses and servants of older soldiers, with rape and resulting pregnancies fo~ girls too young to be mothers. Some children were forced to kill as part of an initiation rite and to ensure their complicity and loyalty to a faction? With the theoretical peace of August 1996, many of the child soldiers were disarmed. But taking guns from children does not mean they are educated, prepared with skills, or rehabilitated for society. Often with no parents, no home, and no school to return to, these child soldiers were well on the way to becoming today's lost young adults. In assessing the plight of the child soldiers, Stephen G. Price, of the office of justice and peace for the Society of African Missions, has written: Revie~a for geligio~,s Rehabilitation requires some kind of reconciliation in the larger Liberian society, where the atrocities of war experience can be faced in some way, and a means of living with the memory of them is achieved. It also involves responsible persons hearing young fighters tell their own stories of personal involvement. The grief, terror, and guilt will be a huge emotional burden, and a bomb waiting to explode again, if it is not expressed.3 Although the war may be technically over in Liberia, the fighting and refugees have spilled into neighboring Sierra Leone. That country's Revolutionary United Front smuggles diamonds through Liberia, where Charles Taylor reportedly takes a cut of the pro~fit.4 The African Faith and JustiCe Network newsletter of March 2001 reports that nongovernment organizations and the United Nations have succeeded in getting the diamond industry to commit itself "to rapidly developing a Certification of Origin system that would allow global markets to exclude diamonds originating in civil-war situations. However, the industry has moved slowly to implement this commitment, prompting more active calls for UN or government action" (p. 5). The same newsletter says that fighting over diamonds has closed so many clinics and pharmacies that people are unable to get appropriate drugs or treatment for common, easily treatable illnesses. Child soldiers, illegal diamond smuggling, and ordinary Liberians without ordinary social services and a working infrastructure--all are signs of death, destruction, and general mayhem. But only on one level. Liberians continue to choose life; the forces for life outnumber the seemingly grim, death-dealing, and nearly hopeless situations they face every day. Their natural tendency toward optimism and a God-centered hope sustain them. Nongovernment organizations such as Catholic Relief Services, the Society of African Missions (SMA fathers), other missionaries, But taking guns from children does not mean they are educated, prepared with skills, or rehabilitated for society. September-October 2002 Siegf!'ied ¯ Choose Life the Africa Faith and Justice Network, Senator Feingold's testimony, the clean diamond act, and programs such as Development, Education, and Leadership Teams in Action (DELTA) and Development Education Network-Liberia (DEN-L) are slowly, surely, and quiedy restoring life to this country. Located in Gbarnga, Bong County, and committed to training lay leaders to "promote grassroots participation in sustainable development and good governance,''5 DEN-L trains workers, community leaders, and unionists to analyze local and national situations and to network, advocate, and work for a Liberia where life is sustainable. DEN-L is but one example of an organization staffed by fearless committed people who envision a country where peace and reconciliation bring new life. The ASC spirit lives on in lay associates who still gather to pray, to remember, to celebrate. Lay people now staff the Catechetical Village Leadership Training Center in Kle, Bomi County, begun by Antoinette Cusimano AS in 1986. The sisters' house in Gardnersville is a clinic. Five Liberian brothers staff Sister Shirley Kolmer School in Barnersville. Sister Kathleen McGuire School is a newly built structure in Cooperfarm, a village near Monrovia. The work of Sister Barbara Ann in healthcare is continued in Tubmanburg and Kle and many surrounding villages by a nurse trained by Barbara Ann and her staff. Another aide trained by Barbara Ann works in the clinic in Kle; the clinic had been the sisters' home. Since it is the custom of the Liberians to name their children after some persons important to them, some Liberian girls now answer to the names of sisters who served in Liberia, including the slain sisters. Despite it all, perhaps because of it all, the spirit nurtured by the five ASCs and other ASC missionaries lives in the people who carry on their legacy without their presence. The missionaries have risen in the people. ASCs Ten Years Later The sisters have risen in the people of Liberia. How do their spirits live in the congregation of Adorers of the Blood of Christ? The answer to that question impels us to focus on the charism, our legacy from Maria de Mattias, founder of the Adorers. The Review for Religious Constitution of the Adorers of the Blood of Christ is quite clear about the charism: Our charism as Adorers of the Blood of Christ is deeply rooted in the death-resurrection mystery of Jesus. Ours is a paschal identity, signed in the blood of the Lamb. As a congregation we are to bear witness in hope and joy to the living presence in our world today of Christ's redeeming love, which gives meaning to human suffering and can render it powerfully liberating and life-giving. (§22) Shaped by and immersed in this basic mystery of Christianity, the Adorers expect this "paschal identity" to permeate their corporate and personal lives. Baptized into the life and death of Jesus, vowed to God as sisters in a congregation whose constitution encourages its members to be "ever more credible witnesses of God's tender love, of which the blood of Jesus is vibrant sign and unending covenant pledge" (§3), the paschal-mystery charism of the Adorers found stark reality in the lives and deaths of the sisters in Liberia. These five credible witnesses lived and died the charism. Charisms of communities are wild, fiery, free, hard to control by law and institutionalization. If this is true of eharisms in general, it is certainly true for the Precious Blood charism, which pulses with the life of the paschal mystery, urging contemplation, speech, and action, impelling us to mission.6 The Precious Blood charism is rooted in historical times that were rife with political and social unrest. Injustice for the poor of society was so common that it was not given much consideration except for the countercultural founder who was on fire with the gospel message of God's reign. Fire and passion for the mission, the urgency to be with the marginalized of society, pushed our founder and our pioneer members to take risks that appeared foolish to the complacent. These are the same qualities that urged five Adorers to return to Liberia in the face of evidence that pointed to staying home, staying safe. Such vision demanded conversion on the part of Maria de Mattias and of the five killed in Liberia. It calls for the same in us. Joe Nassal CPpS writes in a similar vein when he says: To be a disciple of the Precious Blood today is. to stand with those of Matthew 25: the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the ill and im- September-October 2002 Siegfried ¯ Cboose Life Our sisters died because of what they believed in-- God's love for all people, especially the poor and suffering. prisoned. This implies that, when we stand with those who are at the margin of our society, we are no longer in the center ourselves. We allow those with whom Jesus identifies to pull us out of our cozy and comfortable cocoons into the real world where pain and suffering is ever present.7 Ten years ago grief was too raw, tears and disbelief too close, for comfort. But ten years have given the Adorers time and space to contemplate the mystery of those terrible days in late 1992. Life has indeed gone on. We know the slain sisters would expect us to get on with the mission. But, for many Adorers, "getting on with the mission" meant and means soul-searching, questioning, pondering the paschal mystery in a new light. Contemplation of Jesus' life with a focus on the paschal mystery means reflection on the reality of blood poured out for the sake of others. The fact and the symbol of Jesus' shedding of blood calls Christians, especially congregations dedicated to the Precious Blood, to consider the totality of a life gift, the meaning of giving all even to the point of death. From a pragmatic view, both Jesus and the sisters killed in Liberia were in the wrong place at the wrong time, yet they stood up to the wielders of power and the forces of destruction. The disciples of Jesus, like the Adorers, needed to theologize about the meaning of seemingly meaningless deaths. Marcia Kruse, a U.S. Adorer,s reflects that: "Actions and events become signs or symbols of a deeper meaning. Our sisters died because of what they believed in--God's love for all people, especially the poor and suffering. Their lives and deaths are symbols, examples of total giving, and that total giving is what we are called to." Wherese Wetta, another Adorer from the United States, writes: "Five of our Adorers had given their very lives because of their solidarity with the Liberian people. The sisters knew that Review for Religious the Liberian people were brothers and sisters to us, redeemed by the Blood of Christ and sacred in God's eyes." Mini Vadakumchery, an Adorer from India, communicates in the same vein: "They offered themselves as a living sacrifice and answered the cry of the poor. Today I . . . am ready to risk and challenge my life in any situation." Violence, political and social unrest, and neglect of the weakest in society are streams that run through the time of Jesus, through the 19th-century founding of our congregation, and through today's world--the living and dying in the present-day neglected country of Liberia being a prime example. But another stream of compassion, standing with, and advocacy mingles with those deeply stained waters. Whenever people throw in their lot with the disenfranchised of society, with those who need our presence as much as we need theirs, then the saving power of Jesus finds a home, and everyone finds a home. The stream of life weakens the stream of death. This is the cycle of paschal-mystery theology--life ultimately means resurrection. The wood of the cross had its effect on bitter desert water, as Moses experienced typologically at Marah: "He cried to the Lord, and the Lord showed him a tree, and he threw it into the water, and the water became sweet" (Ex 15:25). This is part of paschal-mystery theology. Jesus came that people may have life and have it to the full; this means going beyond the bitter and the sad, beyond death, to resurrection, that joy beyond joys. Matija Pavic, one of the Adorers in Croatia who lived amid ¯ the war and destruction in that country, writes in a similar vein: Since their martyrdom I can say we feel greater closeness among us, at the level of the province and of the congregation as well, as if their martyrdom itself strengthened and drew us together, waking us up to the seriousness of our life commitment at the same time. We experienced the truth of the word that we are called to witness to Christ even to shedding of our own blood. We were overwhelmed by feelings of worry, compassion, and prayer; it was as if th¢:ir suffering spilled over into us. At the same time we were sure that their blood was not shed in vain. We know that it will be a new seed for the kingdom of God here on earth.9 September-October 2002 Sieg?Cried * Cboose Life The congregation continues to choose life. Many of us are ministering in the same areas that we were ten years ago, but the awareness, the consciousness, is deeper than before the events in Liberia. As a United States province we offer more assistance to victims of violence, are more attentive to women and children and to work with refugees. Today the charism has taken on a new dimension of reconciliation. We want to be reconcilers in our torn world, living the life, death, and peace of Jesus where we are and seeking out areas where reconciliation is needed. Life is precious; we cherish each other and try not to take one another for granted. If we are to become our charism in our society, we must respond to the call that the charism voices in our hearts. The paschal mystery invites us to life through death. It is our legacy to insure that the spirit of the sisters killed in Liberia lives in us as vibrantly as it does in the people of Liberia, whose lives they touched graciously, joyously, and effectively. Notes ~ Ezekiel Pajibo, "Liberia: A Brief Overview," Africa Faith and Justice Network, March 1977. 2 Stephen G. Price, "Child Soldiers in the Liberian War," SMA Office of Justice and Peace, March 1997. 3 Price, "Child Soldiers." 4 Washington Post, 17 April 2000. s Taken from "Information about the Development Education Network Liberia." 6 Some of the ideas on paschal-mystery charism are taken from my article "The Missionary Heart," Review for Religious 54, no. 6 (November-December, 1995): 913-917. 7 Joe Nassal CPPS, Passionate Pilgrims: A Sojourn of Precious Blood Spirituality (Carthagena, Ohio: Messenger Press, 1993), p. 17. 8 Adorers worldwide were invited to submit reflections on the effect the sisters' deaths had on them. Some of their comments are included in this article. 9 Translated by Viktorijika Tomic ASC. Review for Religious MARIE BEHA Made Perfect through Suffering ISn the days immediately after the terrorist attack of 11 eptember 2001, the liturgy celebrated--yes, "celebrated"-- a familiar cycle of feasts: on 14 September the Exaltation of the Cross, the next day the feast of the Sorrowful Mother, and two days later the commemoration of the Stigmata of St. Francis of Assisi. This triad has always touched my heart, but I never really understood the reason. Last year the cycle's themes grew in clarity as, in the light of the September tragedy, the why of suf-fering demanded deeper answers. So many innocent people had died, so many others suffered multiple losses, and so many of us, perhaps all of us, had our lives, our attitudes, changed. As has been said over and over, "nothing will ever be the same." Amid all this, what was the liturgy asking us to celebrate? How did these past events touch the present of our suffering? What did it all mean? Exaltation of the Cross The very titling of the feast holds paradox. If familiarity were not dimming the challenge, we would all be aghast every time a cross is exalted to a place of honor in a church or home, every time it is raised up in blessing. Unfortunately, we take Maria Beha OSC, frequent contributor to our pages, lives at the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 North Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. Septe'mber- October 2002 Beha * Made Perfect through Suffering this linking of cross and glory for granted. After all, it is the cross of Jesus that we are lifting up. Familiar religious senti-ment blunts the starkness of the reality. But what about our own suffering? Could that be lifted up? This was my question. As I explored the readings for this feast, they only height-ened the cross's mystery, inviting us in the entrance antiphon to "Glory in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ" and stressing in the preface that God has "decreed" that we should be "saved by the wood of the cross." As I pondered the paradox of these too familiar phrases, still others came to mind. "It was fitting that God . . . in bringing many children to glory should make the pioneer of their salvation perfect through sufferings" (Heb 2:10). And, equally mysterious, "he learned obedience through what he suffered" (Heb 5:8). Suffering redeems. That is what the phrases proclaimed, what I had always heard and said. But was it what I believed, what I had experienced? To raise the question in the first person singular was to realize just how much ambiguity remained in my act of faith. Certainly I believed that the suffering of Jesus was redemptive; that was unquestioned bedrock. But what about human suffering, other people's as well as my own? Specifically how did the tragedy of 11 September hold potential for redemp-tion? And how about the bone-wrenching pain of my friend so seriously injured in a near-fatal auto wreck? And the grief of a single mother whose three small children died when flames swept through their trailer home? The examples easily became an almost endless litany.of human misery and grief. I began to feel myself slipping down into a vortex of tragedy that could only paralyze. I hurried back to Jesus and the exaltation of his cross. From the beginning of his ministry, Jesus revealed God's compassion for human suffering. Just the sight of the grieving widow at Naim was enough to call forth a life-giving response. Jesus took the dead man by the hand and "gave him back to his mother" (Lk 7:11-17). No one had asked Jesus to do anything. It was as though the mother's suffering compelled him to act. And how many times throughout the Gospels Jesus responds to pain in the same way, healing lepers, the blind, the deaf, the lame. As Mark says, "wherever he put in an appearance, in vil-lages, in towns, or at crossroads, they laid the sick in the mar-ketplaces and begged him to let them touch just the tassel of Review for Religious his cloak. All who touched him got well" (Mk 6:56). Others ~possessed by demons, many of whom we would today consider emotionally ill, also called forth Jesus' compassion. He drove out the demons, freeing those who had been in their grip. In word and deed Jesus tells us that God is on the side, not of suffering, but of new life, freedom, health, healing. In other words, suffering is not to be gloried in but rather to be worked against. In the end time of a "new heaven and a new earth [God] will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more" (Rv 21:1, 3-4). This is where we are going, but the life and death of Jesus amply testify that suffer-ing is integral to our ever arriv-ing at that kingdom of glory. While working against suffering in the life of others, Jesus also accepted it in his own. He real-ized early on that responding to God's call would bring suffer-ing, not only to himself but also to those whom he loved. From the beginning of his ministry, he warned his disciples of his coming passion and rebuked Peter sharply for refusing to accept this reality: "Get behind me, Satan" (Mt 16:23). Even the everyday of Jesus' life was punctuated with the hardships of an exhausting ministry, complicated by a lack of understanding on the part of those closest to him and subject to harassment by the religious leaders. Mark's Gospel (6:6) says he was "amazed" at their "hardness of heart." How it all must have hurt him! His own family thought him "out of his mind" (Mk 3:21) and came to take him away. His closest friends, the likes of James and John, were more concerned about their sta-res in the kingdom (Mk 10:35-40) than in what Jesus was trying to teach them. On the last night of his life, his disciples' lack of understanding would degenerate into a cowardice that left him alone at the end. If suffering was present throughout Jesus' life, his death and dying were terrible: an innocent man condemned to the most shameful of deaths, done in by the jealousy of religious leaders Jesus tells us that God is on the side, not of suffering, but of new life, freedom, health, healing. September-October 2002 Beba ¯ Made Perfect through Suffering For suffering to be redemptive we must not seek it out, exaggerate it, or add to it. whose legalistic observance covered over the corruption of dead men's bones. Betrayed by one of his own, deserted by all but a handful of his alleged followers and supporters, tortured and mocked by his executioners, yet "he did not open his mouth" (Is 53:7). Even in the agony of death by crucifixion, his words were full of love for his mother, for the one disciple who remained faithful, and for the dying thief. To his Father his final plea was one of concern for others, "Forgive them, they know not what they are doing," accompanied by his own complete sub-mission, "Into your hands I commend my spirit" (Lk 23:34, 46). Jesus' death summed up his lifelong attitude of accepting the suffering that came to him in accord with his prior choice. "Not my will but yours be done" (Lk 22:42) summarized who he was and what he was about. As a conse-quence of this first love, Jesus responded to the suffering in his life in such a way that it became redemptive. That is what we cele-brate on the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross and what we must experience in our own salvation history if we are ever to embrace the mystery of suffering. Have we ever, perhaps only in retrospect, seen something painfully difficult become redeem-ing grace? I know that for me a debilitating illness that con-fined me to total bed rest for six months when I was a cocky twenty-two-year-old was grace beyond compare. During those endless days of being unable to do anything, I had time to think long thoughts, to sift through my life values and lay aside some of the driving ambition that might very well have detoured my whole religious life. I began to learn how fragile my control of events and how life's meaning had to go deeper. I am sure you can add your own experiences of the redemp-tive value of suffering: the family that finds unity and union in caring for a sick child, the marriage that is strengthened by cop-ing with serious financial difficulties, the struggle to get an edu-cation that makes learning a lifelong priority. The list goes on and maybe needs to--showing us over and over how our faith can grow stronger through the redemptive power of suffering. Revie~v for Religious But at some point the very examples we recall also reveal that suffering is a two-edged sword. Its redemptive potential is not automatic. We all know people whom suffering has shrunk into self-absorption, and we know whiners and complainers who specialize in self-pity. Many of us do not have to look any fur-ther than our own hearts to recognize how destructive suffering can be. It can occasion a crisis, with people choosing a path of lifelong bitterness, defeat, despair. Redemptive suffering moves in the opposite direction, open-ing us to others and to God. It shrinks our pain, putting it in perspective, not the stoic perspective that "well, things could be much worse," but faith's perspective that suffering is not the end, that God brings healing, health, joy, resurrection. For suffering to be redemptive we must not seek it out, exaggerate it, or add to it. Ours is not to be the self-centered pain that protests with injured innocence, "Why me?" Nor should we try to find some husk of self-satisfaction by compar-ing our burden of pain with someone else's. Each person's suf-fering is unique, if for no other reason than that this present difficulty is piled on a unique miscellany of memories and past experiences. Trustful acceptance of suffering keeps us moving in the direction of redemption and healing. Our suffering takes on true meaning when it is caught up in the passion of Jesus. In our suffering we are being invited to "complete what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church" (Col 1:24). Already in baptism we are immersed in the dying and rising of Jesus. What began in his redemptive act continues as we accept the cross into our own life. Each time a choice of ours says no to sin and yes to new life in Christ, we live out the possibilities of our baptism. Each time we offer God the daily bread of our ordinary lives, we present to him a living sacrifice of praise. The Eucharistic transubstan-tiation changes not only ourselves but our world. We must focus, not on our own immediate experience of pain, but on Jesus, "fixing our eyes on the head of our faith . . . who suffered the cross" (Heb 12:1). I can recall vividly a woman who suffered ten long years from multiple sclerosis, experiencing all of its terrible dimin-ishments till at the end she was completely immobilized, unable to so much as move herself in bed. When asked, foolishly September-October 2002 Beha ¯ Made Perfea through Suffering enough, "How are you today?" her invariable response was, "Just the way God wants me to be. And how are you?" I think hers was a highly personal, well-lived translation of Jesus' own faithful response "Not my will but yours be done." She did not choose suffering, but when it came she accepted it and so dis-covered grace and peace despite the pain. Compassion's Power Suffering comes not only in our own flesh but also in the pain that others must bear and we with them. In some ways this suffering-with-another is more difficult than simply bearing our own pain, since pain deepens when all we can do is stand by helplessly. We can neither prevent another's journey toward death nor live the journey for them. We cannot force anyone to choose health and healing. Demanding that someone get coun-seling is not therapeutic; hiding the cigarettes only adds decep-tion to the mix; neither leads to conversion. Yet just "being with" another seems too little. How often I have heard parents express their wish that they could wrestle with cancer themselves rather than stand by helplessly while their child endures the awful rounds of surgery, chemo, and radiation. And how much pain is added to the suffering of a dying husband or wife, leaving behind a. spouse whose loneliness they know will never be healed. People suffer the added burden of helplessness when their friends lose their job, their health, or their home. "I don't know what to say, what to do!" we exclaim, with truth. But, hopefully, we do not use such inability to solve another's problem as a pretext for noninvolvement. Perhaps this is one of the uncon-scious reasons we seal our hearts against caring too much; instinc-tively we know it will cost us. True love is willing to risk the personal suffering that accompanies compassion. If love exposes us to greater suffering, it is also true that suffering with another can open our hearts for greater love. Children who have lost their parents in a tragic accident pull at our heartstrings. Accompanying someone facing a terminal ill-ness can give us an impetus to sort through and rearrange our own values. The terrible tragedy of 11 September 2001 stirred an unprecedented outpouring of generosity, people giving because they just had to. Strangers worked together as part- Review for Religious ners. People who lived next door became neighbors. People dis-covered strength they did not know they had when others' needs called it forth. Helping someone even in ordinary circumstances can cre-ate a close bond. Just taking a few moments to greet a new-comer can open the door to a lasting relationship. Taking the first step toward reconciliation may result in a friendship cemented now in the experi-ence of mutual forgiveness. It almost seems that some expe-rience of shared suffering, of difficulty overcome, is neces-sary if relationships are to mature into true intimacy. Exposing our vulnerability, allowing another to be with us in our pain, not only presup-poses trust but enlivens it as well. We come to know each Pain and suffering offer not only opportunity for growth, but also possibility of destruction or division. other in deeper, more personal ways. Our love has been tried and is more secure because it has passed the test. Love "suffers with," and "suffering with" can deepen love-- but not always. Once again, pain and suffering offer not only opportunity for growth, but also possibility of destruction or division. The sickness of a child may lead to parental quarrels and divorce. Friendships falter and fail in the face of difficult times and circumstances. How many siblings find themselves locked into bitter quarrels after the death of a parent? And, on a larger scale, a national tragedy can initiate a cycle of blame and mutual suspicion, of escalating violence and threats of revenge. Suffering is always a two-edged sword. It reveals hearts. That is what we celebrate on the feast of our Sorrowful Mother. Mary's love for her Son exposed her to tremendous suffering, and that suffering deepened and revealed her love. "A sword will pierce your own soul" (Lk 2:35) was a promise consequent on her accepting her unique vocation. A call from God, any call from God, implies going beyond one's present comfort level. So Mary's "Be it with me according to your word" (Lk 1:38) meant that her life would never be the same. She was being asked to transcend her power to understand, control, even September-October 2002 Beba * Made Perfect through Suffering explain. Inevitably others would be uncomprehending, some-times judgmental, even condemning. There was nothing she could say or do to make it easier for those who loved her, or for those who did not. Her only option in the face of this suf-fering was to trust that the God who called was faithful. That faith would be tried when her own Son remained behind in the temple without a word of explanation to her or Joseph. "Why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been searching for you with great anxiety." Their mother-son relationship was secure enough to survive his counterques-tion, "Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be about my Father's business?" (Lk 2:48-49)~ Out of this suffering must have come some deeper level of trust and understanding. Still later their tested relationship would grow into Cana's fuller confidence, "Do whatever he tells you" (Jn 2:5), and all through Calvary's final hours. There their love faced its ultimate test of mutual surrender. Mary gave her Son back to the Father; Jesus gave his mother to another "son." Mary's "Be it done according to your word" .was consummated in Jesus' "Into your hands I commend my spirit." But that cry of ultimate shared suffering was not the end. Out of it came new and eternal life, pain transformed into last-ing joy. We have no recorded appearance of the risen Jesus to his mother. Maybe it occurred but was too private, too personal, to be recorded. Maybe Jesus and Mary knew each other so well that there was no need for such confirmation. What we do know with faith's assurance is that now they are united beyond suf-fering in love's joy. Compassion breaks hearts open, leaving them vulnerable to more pain but also to more love. It did so for Mary; it can do the same for us if we are willing to risk a love that suffers because of caring for another. Such love is very different from the passivity of self-centered suffering that we bring on our-selves and which has almost no value. Worrying over all the "maybes" of our fears for self or others is common enough, but it accomplishes nothing. While acknowledging that we .are wor-riers, we also need to move proactively toward more produc-tive thinking. Similarly the murmuring and muttering that runs its compulsive tape through our minds needs closure, not the self-defeating stance that allows the pain to go on because "that Review for Religious is just the way things are." Ill health, our own or other peo-ple's, is not allowed to serve as a semilegitimate excuse for imposing unnecessarily on the goodwill of others or withdraw-ing from the concerns of the wider community. Similarly, true compassion does not permit people to become victims of the tragedies that have befallen them. Contrast self-indulgent forms of suffering with true compas-sion, where an individual goes beyond ego's narrow, rigid bound-aries to reach out to others in their pain. Such self-sacrifice is life-size, opening us to love's demands, risking involvement beyond our capacity to control the cost; it is redemptive. Such was the passion of Jesus; such was Mary's compassionate love. Christocentric Suffering Fruitful suffering is incarnational. It both accepts and works against the here-and-now pain that comes into our own lives and the lives of others with whom we risk love's involvement. This kind of suffering makes a real difference in us, in our very selves. It did so in particularly dramatic ways in the life of Francis of Assisi, and this is what we celebrate on 17 September when we remember his reception of the stigmata, having his body marked with the wounds of Jesus. What happened to Francis is what must happen in some way in our own lives. Sharing in the pas-sion of Jesus is meant to mark us, to make us different. The process begins when we look long and lovingly at Jesus and see how unlike him we are. This is the sinful self that needs conversion, and such radical repentance is bound to be costly. Changing old patterns of behavior which we recognize as self-defeating, but which still offer the comfort of familiarity, exposes us to the awkwardness of the new and untried. Letting go of habits, even habits that have been helpful in the past but no longer contribute to our growth, seems as risky as a child's first steps without support. All of these changes, not only from bad to good but also from good to better, initiate a cycle of falling, failing, struggling, starting, over. It is the cross of repentance that encourages true growth. The pain of conversion, both initial and ongoing, is made more bearable as long as we feel we are in control. Determining what we are going to change, the timing, when and how much, September-October 2002 Beha ¯ Made Perfect through Suffering There comes a time when all our activity is fixed on only one point, that of obedience and surrender. means that the very self is never much threatened. And yet it is this self, which has a mind of its own, a will of its own, that must die. Growth into Christ implies obedience. Suffering that is redemptive, then, is both active and passive. These two elements are related not as contradictories, as though some pain were active and some passive, but rather as the con-cave and convex of the same reality. Living as a Christian requires asceticism. We must make a choice, take a stand, do something. Even when pain comes into our life unbidden, we are actively responsible for the attitude we take toward it. And yet suffering is not to be chosen for its own sake; it must, as we have seen, be worked against. Still there comes a time when all our activity is fixed on only one point, that of obedience and surrender. In the end we are asked to give back to God all that God has first given us: our activities, our gifts, our relationships, our very lives. But this is not where we begin. First we give thanks to the "one who has given us everything needed for life" (i P 1:3) by using whatever we have received in the service of others. And we continue to do that as long as we can, accepting the suffering that is implicit in generous service: fatigue, the disci-pline of constancy, the boredom of daily routine. We continue to give despite the discouragement of failure, of plans that go wrong, and perhaps of the ingratitude of those whom we are trying to serve. In simply doing what is ours to do, we come to know the purification of active suffering. We learn that saying yes to others includes a no to ourselves. Francis knew this only too well. His decision to follow Christ more closely cost him dearly. He lost his relationship with his family (especially his father) and with friends, gave up his dream of glory through knighthood. Kissing the leper at the beginning of his conversion meant going beyond the comfort-able generosity of tossing someone a coin. His call to preach the gospel included all the hardship of an itinerant lifestyle. Embracing Lady Poverty meant going without the security of Review for Religious possessions. Even the great number of followers who were attracted by his example brought its own suffering, complicat-ing with the onerous responsibility of administration the simple life he desired. In addition to these sufferings, Francis also deliberately practiced a demanding asceticism. In fact, he afflicted his body so severely that he ruined his health, a mistake he came to rec-ognize and regret. At the end of his life he owed Brother Body an apology and said so. But Francis's initial mistake does not mean that freely chosen asceticism is of no value. On the con-trary, the small suffering implied in such self-imposed disci-pline incarnates our desire for God and makes room in our hearts for deeper union. This was Francis's experience and that of so many of the saints. It can also be ours, if we embrace the active asceticism of emptying ourselves of some perfectly good and legitimate things in order to make room for God. Fasting is the classic example of such discipline. Food is necessary for our survival and is one of our everyday pleasures as well. Our enjoyment of food is healthy. Unfortunately, many and even most of us overeat or undereat, and that is unhealthy. We indulge ourselves, passing up the vegetables and taking a second desert. We abuse food and ourselves in the process. I sometimes suspect that a piece of fruit as the symbol of the first temptation is especially apt, since eating remains a problematic area for many people. And so fasting retains its importance as a spiritual discipline. Setting some limits on what, when, and how much we eat can give some realism to our need to die to that demanding self of ours which expects ready gratification. A reasonable fast not only does not endanger our health, it p~obably promotes itq while also letting us share in some small way in the hunger of the multitudes in our world who lack enough food to live on. What we save by cutting back on snack food, or on expensive kinds of meat, can be given away? as an immediate fruit of our fasting. On a more profound level, some experience of hunger can stir in our hearts a greater hunger for God. This is what Francis knew when he incorporated fasting into his way of life. Because his fasting was both a consequence and an expression of love, it finally came to be strict without being rigid. His severe fasts during six forty-day Lents left him //0'1 Septentber-October 2002 Beba ¯ Made Perfect tbrougb Suffering with an empty stomach but a heart full of love for creation, for his brothers and sisters, and above all for God. At the end Francis became free enough to enjoy good food, the sweetmeats his friend LadyJacoba brought him, and to exhort his brothers to rub the very walls with meat on Christmas. His fasting along with occasional feasting came to incorporate the worship of enjoyment, gratitude, and praise. Yet as time went on Francis's suffering was less and less a matter of his own decision and choosing. It became more pas-sive, something done to him where his only activity was the choice of response. Illness, aggravated by the imprudent asceti-cism of his early days and by the crude medical practices of the time, wearied both his body and his spirit. His stomach gave him almost constant pain. His eyes failed, and this man who had so rejoiced in the beauty of creation became almost blind. Even more of a heartbreak, some friars who had at first embraced his gospel way of life came to find it too much for them. They rejected Francis, demanding that he turn over the governance of the order to another. He lived out his final years in submission and obedience. Suffering abounded in his last years, and to this was added the pain of the stigmata. The wounds in his body were real; they bled profusely enough to require bandaging. The nail marks in his feet made every step difficult, and in the end he had to consent to ride on a donkey. His hands became more and more useless, and he hid them in the ample sleeves of his tunic. How did Francis respond to all of this suffering? When his eyes were cauterized, he prayed Brother Fire to be gentle with him. When his body was too worn to go any further, he returned to San Damiano, the place of his beginnings. There Clare and her sisters tried to care for him, and there in the midst of des-olation of body and spirit he composed his glorious Canticle of the Creatures: "Praise, my Lord, for Sister Moon and Brother Sun. for Sister Water and Brother Fire. for fair and every kind of weather." Yes, praise for every kind of weather and every gift of nature and grace, for the good times and the days of pain. Praise. And gratitude, because it is all gift. This is what the stigmata celebrates: not just the fact that Francis's body was marked by the cross, but that his whole life was. He embraced suffering, accepted what came to him, while Review for Religious working against it in his ministry of healing and serving oth-ers. His heart was filled with compassion for all God's creation, his own friars, the lepers, all in need. And at the end his lifelong desire to be like Christ left him marked with the wounds of the passion. What happened in his life must happen in ours, if not in such dramatic ways, at least with equal reality. Suffering will mark us as Christ's own. We will be signed with the sign of the cross. This is what I think we celebrate in the triad of feasts that mark mid September: the Exaltation of the Cross, the Sorrows of Mary, and the Stigmata of St. Francis. Each feast hints at suffering's true meaning. First of all, it is redemptive, intended to lead us into greater freedom and love. If this is to happen, we need to accept the suffering that inevitably comes into our lives, but also to move with all our strength in the direction of health and healing. And we need to do this regarding not only our own pain but the pain of others too. Compassion, standing with others in their pain, will open us to more suffering. But there is where we will want to be if we love enough. Still, it will be costly. Life will bring us suffering that we somehow choose, but also some that we do not choose but must learn to accept. This suffering will mark us with the wounds of the passion. What our little cycle of September feasts celebrates, then, is this: that in our lives suffering is redemptive both as gift and as given. This is what it was for Francis, for Mary, for Jesus. It is what the suffering that comes into all our lives is meant to be for us. Starshine Starshine is sometimes all the light we need to get our bearings. a heavenly.reminder of light beyond measure, that will not yield to the nightclouds haunting the horizon of our heart. Diana SeagoOSB September-October 2002 DENNIS j. BILLY Right Relationships in Consecrated Life theory and reality Right relationships reminds me of Anne Quirk's children's novel, Dancing with Great-Aunt Cornelia, a story about a dysfunctional New York family and a thirteen-year-old girl's discovery that her eccentric, incredibly tall, and extremely rich great-aunt is really her grandmother. Near the end of the story, the family finally comes to terms with its denial, insensitivity, anger, and odd way of relating. The reconciliation takes place at a dance party hosted by Great-Aunt Cornelia in her enormous Manhattan town house just off Fifth Avenue. Although tensions run high at first, eventually the entire family let down their guard and end up dancing with one another--and quite enjoying it. As Connie, the young narrator, puts it: "I'm sure I danced with my father, with Bendey, with my mother, and with Eleanor, too. For a while I guess we were all dancing together, in a sort of tango with seven people and a large dog. Maybe it was actually more of a tangle than a tango.''~ Dennis J. Billy CSSR, a frequent contributor to our pages, may till 25 January 2003 be reached at Mount St. Alphonsus Retreat Center; P.O. Box 219; Esopus, New York 12429. 1~eview for l~etigio~ Festivity and Dance To my mind, living in right relationship with others is much akin to taking part in a festive dance. What matters is not whether we know how to dance, but whether we are willing to participate and, if need be, even play the part of the fool. Many of us, unfortunately, have failed to recognize this important fact of life. Quirk's funny and eccentric story with its festive (and quite unexpected) ending reminds us of our human penchant for being continuously "out of step" with each other and refusing to take part in the celebration of.life. It pokes fun at our pet peeves and silly vanities that get in the way of our capacity to love. It puts a mirror before us and encourages us to take a good look at ourselves and at those around us. We may see that our attempts at getting along with one another are often "more of a tangle than a tango." But we may notice, as well, our deep desire to get it right, to be "in sync" with the people in our lives, despite the differences, the awkward diffidences, that keep us apart. Our desire to participate in this great dance of life comes from deep in the human heart, evincing the divine love within us. The Christian God is the God of the living. The life of the Trinity affirms the sacred character of festivity and dance. Celebration, for this God, flows from love and is closely allied to it. In his book The Third Peacock, Robert Farrar Capon breaks through our traditional stereotypes of God and involves the Father, Son, and Spirit in a heavenly bash of ongoing creation: And God the Father looked at the whole wild party and he said, "Wonderful! Just what I had in mind! 7by! 7by! 7by!" And all God the Son and God the Holy Ghost could think of was to say the same thing. "Tbv! %v! Toy.t" So they shouted together "Tbv meod!" and they laughed and laughed for ages and ages, saying things like how great it was for beings to be, and bow clever of the Father to think of the idea, and how kind of the Son to go to all that trouble putting it together, and how considerate of the Spirit to spend so much time directing and choreographing. And forever and ever they told old jokes, and the Father and the Son drank their wine in unitate Spiritus Sancti, and they all threw ripe olives and pickled mushrooms at each other per omnia saecula saeculorum. Amen.2 September-October 2002 Billy ¯ Right Relationships in Consecrated Life Our yearning for reveling, celebration, and dance, the desire to be at one with ourselves and to live in communion with those around us derives from something within us that is, at the same time, far beyond us. According to our Catholic belief, it is rooted in the ground of all reality, in the intimate life of love of a God who simultaneously is both one and many. The Christian God exists in and for communio: for unity in diversity and vice versa. Our desire for communion and right relationship stems from our being created in the image and likeness of this mysterious, personal, yet transcendent ground of love. Even though we are fallen, dysfunctional, bent out of shape (however one wishes to term it), the imprint of divinity grows within and manifests itself in our deepest longings. We yearn for communion with one another ultimately because of God's yearning for communion with us. We are miserably out of step with one another, yet haunted by the deeply rooted hope that things can and will get better, not through our own doing, but because of the God who made us, loves us, and holds us in being. A Spirituality of Communion Recent church documents highlight how important it is for believers to nurture a "spirituality of communion" in their lives. In Novo millennio ineunte (2001), his apostolic letter on the new millennium, John Paul II puts it this way: A spirituality of communion indicates above all the heart's contemplation of the mystery of the Trinity dwelling in us, and whose light we must also be able to see shining on the face of the brothers and sisters around us. A spirituality of communion also means an ability to think of our brothers and sisters in faith within the profound unity of the Mystical Body, and therefore as "those who are a part of me." This makes us able to share their joys and sufferings, to sense their desires and attend to their needs, to offer them deep and genuine friendship. A spirituality of communion implies also the ability to see what is positive in others, to welcome it and prize it as a gift from God: not only as a gift for the brother or sister who has received it directly, but also as a "gift for Review for Religious me." A spirituality of communion means, finally, to know how to "make room" for our brothers and sisters, bearing "each other's burdens" (Ga 6:2) and resisting the selfish temptations which constantly beset us and provoke competition, careerism, distrust, and jealousy. (§43) It would be difficult to come up with a more comprehensive vision of living in right relationship with others. The pope invites us to contemplate the mystery of the Trinity within our hearts and to discern its presence in those around us. He asks us to be aware of the presence of others, to minister to their needs, and to reach out to them in a spirit of friendship. Doing so means making room for others in our lives and allowing them to make room for us. It means living in communion with them on every level of our human makeup: the physical, emotional, intellectual, social, and spiritual. The pope's words describe a vision of "right relationship" that few would fault or disavow. Most of us have no problem accepting his vision of communion or right relationship. Our trouble is putting it into practice. I am reminded of Walter Principe's distinction about the different levels of spirituality: the experiential, the doctrinal, and the analytical? We accept the teaching on the "spirituality of communion" and can easily accept it as a vision that we should look to and strive to implement in our lives. We can even study, analyze, and criticize it for the purpose of making it a more coherent body of teaching. On the experiential level, however, many of us have difficulty taking the steps to make this teaching on communion and right relationships an integral part of our lives. We experience a gap between what we envision and who we really are. That gap may be small or large. The size of it determines how much dysfunction we experience in our personal, family, and community lives. The pope invites us to contemplate the mystery of the Trinity within our hearts and to discern its presence in those around us. 497 . September-O,'tober 2002 Billy ¯ Right Relationships in Consecrated Life To my mind, the key question is not whether the gap between vision and experience exists, but whether we recognize it and are taking steps to make it smaller and smaller. We need to recognize the gap, accept it as something that will never fully go away (at least in this life), and take appropriate steps to narrow it. This task is not a one-time challenge, but must be taken up again with each new day. The Vision of Vita Consecrata My suspicion is that religious have a particularly difficult time coming to terms with the discrepancy between the vision of the life to which they have been called and their actual experience of it. I say this because the church places so much hope in consecrated persons' being "true experts" at achieving communion that the gap between vision and lived reality is bound to be quite large. This vision is presented quite clearly in Vita consecrata (1996), John Paul II's postsynodal apostolic exhortation on the consecrated life. As the following excerpt demonstrates, consecrated persons must live up to enormous expectations: A great task also belongs to the consecrated life in the light of the teaching about the church as communion, so strongly proposed by the Second Vatican Council. Consecrated persons are asked to be true experts of communion and to pradtice the spirituality of communion as "witnesses and architects of the plan for unity which is the crowning point of human history in God's design.". The sense of ecclesial communion, developing into a spirituality of communion, promotes a way of thinking, speaking, and acting which enables the church to grow in depth and extension. The life of communion, in fact, "becomes a sign for all the world and a compelling force that leads people to faith in Christ . In this way communion leads to mission, and itself becomes mission"; indeed, "communion begets communion: in essence it is a communion that is missionary." (~46) A little later the document makes it clear that an important aspect of this "spiri~ality of communion" is "an allegiance of Review for Relig4ous mind and heart to the magisterium of the bishops, an allegiance which must be lived honestly and clearly testified to before the people of God by all consecrated persons, especially those involved in theological research, teaching, publishing, catechesis, and the use of the means of social communication." To be sure, "because consecrated persons have a special place in the church, their attitude in this regard is of immense importance for the whole people of God." The document points to the testimonies of founders and foundresses, who demonstrated "a constant and lively sense of the church." To further its claim, it cites the loyal devotion, to the church of such great saints as Francis of Assisi, Catherine of Siena, Ignatius Loyola, Teresa of Avila, and the Little Flower. Such examples of full ecclesial communion need to be constantly recalled if consecrated persons "are to resist the particularly strong centrifugal and disruptive forces at work today" (§46). Speaking, thinking, and acting with the magisterium are thus considered in the light of a vital role given to consecrated persons in the church universal in accord with the venerable tradition of great saints and founders and foundresses and with a view to the church's missionary nature. These ever expanding contexts give an added richness to the concept of the spirituality of communion and should not be overlooked. Only by taking them into account can consecrated persons understand their important role in the post-Vatican II era and "be nourished from the wellspring of a sound and deep spirituality" (§93). Another key text on the spirituality of communion comes later in the same document when institutes of the consecrated life are given the specific task of spreading this spirituality of communion: The church entrusts to communities of consecrated life the particular task of spreading the spirituality of communion, first of all in their internal life and then in the ecclesial community, and even beyond its boundaries, by opening or continuing a dialogue in charity, especially where today's world is torn apart by ethnic hatred or senseless violence. Placed as they are within the wbrld's different societies (societies frequently marked by conflicting passions and interests, seeking unity but uncertain about the ways Septentber-October 2002 Billy * Right Relationships in Consecrated Life to attain it), communities of consecrated life--where persons of different ages, languages, and cultures meet as brothers and sisters--are signs that dialogue is always possible and that communion can bring differences into harmony. (§51) This paragraph affirms the pope's hope "that all will grow in the understanding and spirituality of communion" (§50). It also supports his earlier statement about the obligation of fraternity as a form of witness to the Trinity: "By constantly promoting fraternal love also in the form of the common life, the consecrated life has shown that sharing in the Trinitarian communion can change human relationships and create a new type of solidarity" (§41), one which does everything "in communion and d!alogne" (§74) and which favors "that 'dialogue of life' which embodies a basic model of mission and of the proclamation of Christ's gospel" (§102). Notice the threefold range of this special task entrusted to consecrated persons. They are to spread the spirituality of communion first within themselves, second within the ecclesial communion, and third beyond its boundaries. Motivated by their deep personal love for Christ (see §84), they reach out in dialogue that "is the new name of charity, especially charity within the church" (§74). --YO0 Implications for Consecrated Life I would like to take a. deeper look at just what this "particular task of spreading the spirituality of communion" (§51) might mean for members of institutes of consecrated life. The threefold framework of internal life, ecclesial communion, and beyond will be particularly helpful in this regard. Internal Life. In the first place, institutes of consecrated life are called to put their own houses in order and live in harmony: "In an age characterized by the globalization of problems and the return .of the idols of nationalism, international institutes especially are called to uphold and to bear witness to the sense of communion between peoples, races, and cultures" (§51). They do so first and foremost by living out their common charism in communion with each other, even though they represent various age groups, nationalities, cultural backgrounds, and theological perspectives. The attempt of such communities to dialogue Review for Religious among themselves and to bring unity out of the diversity of their experience is an effective sign of that community of heart and mind to which all are called. This communion in the institute's internal life should exist on all levels of its communal makeup-- local, provincial, and general--and should foster cooperation between these levels, in keeping with the principle of subsidiarity. A natural outgrowth of this internal application of the spirituality of communion is cooperation among the different institutes themselves (see §52). Bound by the common call to the evangelical counsels, these institutes, both old and new, should regard one another with profound respect and strive to work together in their efforts to proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ to the world. Relationships among such institutes should not be marred by jealousy, indifference, or suspicion. The document recalls St. Bernard's words about the various religious orders: I admire them all. I belong to one of them by observance, but to all of them by charity. We all need one another: the spiritual good which I do not own and possess, I receive from others . In this exile the church is still on pilgrimage and is, in a certain sense, plural: she is a single plurality and a plural unity. All our diversities, which make manifest the richness of God's gifts, will continue to exist in the one house of the Father, which has many rooms. Now there is a division of graces; then there will be distinctions of glory. Unity, both here and there, consists in one and the same charity. (§52) In this spirit the document encourages coordinating bodies such as the conferences of major superiors and the conferences of secular institutes to work in harmony with each other as well as with the episcopal conference of each country. They are also encouraged "to maintain frequent and regular contacts with the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life, as a sign of their communion with the Holy See" (§53). The point of all this is that the spirituality of communion, once it is lived within the life of an institute of consecrated life itself, should naturally overflow into similar relations beyond its boundaries. Ecclesial Communion. For this reason, the pope also encourages mutual relationships of respect and collaboration Septentber-October 2002 Billy ¯ Rigbt Relationships in Consecrated Life between institutes of consecrated life and every level of ecclesial communion: with other states of life within the church (the laity, the clergy) and also with brothers and sisters of the various Christian confessions. All of this should be done out of respect for the common dignity shared by all the faithful (§31), but in such a way that "the identity of the institute in its internal life is not harmed" (§56). In this context, cooperation with the laity receives special mention. The document notes that "many institutes have come to the conclusion that their charism can be shared with the laity" (§54). This sharing takes many forms, from sharing their spirituality to various kinds of pastoral collaboration. As a result, "the participation of the laity often brings unexpected and rich insights into certain aspects of the charism, leading to a more spiritual interpretation of it and helping to draw from it directions for new activities in the apostolate" (§55). Emphasizing the equal dignity of both men and women before God (§57), the document specifically deals with the role of consecrated women. It describes them as "signs of God's tender love towards the human race" (§57) and points out that "women's new self-awareness also helps men to reconsider their way of looking at things, the way they understand themselves, where they place themselves in history and how they interpret it, and the way they organize social, political, economic, religious, and ecclesial life" (§57). Ecumenical dialogue is yet another level of ecclesial communion to which institutes of consecrated life must give due attention. Lectio divina, common prayer, dialogue in friendship, cordial hospitality, and common undertakings of service and witness are among thq many forms of ecumenical dialogue. The work of Christianity is not just the work of these institutes that were specifically founded for this purpose or because of a later calling (§57). The pope makes it quite clear that "no institute of consecrated life should feel itself dispensed from working for this cause" (§101). Special emphasis is given to the monastic tradition in the Eastern Catholic Churches for the help they can give in promoting unity with the Orthodox churches and given also to monasteries of contemplative life, to whom the pope entrusts "the spiritual ecumenism of prayer, conversion of heart, and charity" (§101). Review for Religious Beyond. The spirituality of communion moves consecrated persons beyond the bounds of the Christian communion of faith into dialogue with other faiths and cultures: "Because 'interreligious dialogue is a part of the church's evangelizing mission,' institutes of consecrated life cannot exempt themselves from involvement also in this field, each in accordance with its own charism and following the directives of ecclesiastical authority" (§102). They do this primarily through "the testimony of a life of poverty, humility, and chastity, imbued with fraternal love for all" i§I02). Dedicated to that "dialogue of life" which finds its mission in the proclamation of the Good News, they "promote appropriate forms of dialogue, marked by cordial friendship and mutual sincerity, with monastic communities of other religions" (§102). Other areas for cooperation include concern for human life and efforts to promote the dignity of women (§102). All such efforts, moreover, require proper formation, study, and research, together with deep faith and personal and spiritual maturity (§102). Finally, the "spirituality of communion" asks institutes of consecrated life to place themselves at the service of all humanity. Their service to the world involves "a life of self-giving love" (§75). Indeed, "the fact that consecrated persons fix their gaze on the Lord's countenance does not diminish their commitment on behalf Of humanity; on. the contrary, it strengthens this commitment, enabling it to have an impact on history, in order to free history from all that disfigures it" (§75). This means, first and foremost, offering "the witness of a life given totally to God and to their brothers and sisters, in imitation of the Savior, who out of love for humanity made himself a servant" (§76). It also means living .a life of genuine inculturation, one that "requires attitudes similar to those of the Lord when he became man and walked among us in love and meekness" (§79). In their attempt to serve as "a gospel leaven The "spirituality of communion" asks institutes of consecrated life to place themselves at the service of all humanity. September-October 2002 Billy ¯ Right Relationships in Consecrated Life within a culture, purifying and perfecting it" (§80), they follow the church in its preferential option for those "in situations of greater weakness" (§82). This includes "the poor, in varied states of affliction., those on the margins of society, the elderly, the sick, the young, any and all who are considered and treated as 'the least'" (§82). Some of the concrete ways in which they meet the needs of the poor include the care of the sick, their presence in the world of education, their presence in the field of social communications, and the evangelization of culture (see §§83 and 96-99). Their life of evangelical poverty, moreover, "is a value in itself," which, "accompanied by a preferential love for the poor," is expressed "especially by sharing the conditions of life of the most neglected" (§90). To be sure, "there are many communities which live and work among the poor and the marginalized; they embrace their conditions of life and share in their sufferings, problems, and perils" (§90). To summarize: The spirituality of communion is kindled by God in the institute of consecrated life and is meant to have a ripple effect on the entire life of the church. Arising within the institute, where members of various ages, cultures, and educational backgrounds live together in a spirit of fraternal love, it reaches out to other institutes, to other states of life within the church, to other Christian denominations, to other religions, and to all of humanity. It does so in a spirit of dialogue and service to give witness to the personal presence of Christ in the world and to the power of the Trinity to transform human relationships. Its mission is to build relationships of solidarity wherever human beings congregate and to be a sign of the intimate life with God to which all are called. The Gap between Vision and Experience The above presen.tation shows that the Catholic Church has a clear and extensive teaching on the spirituality of communion, what it means to live in right relationship with others. While this teaching has concrete implications for communities of consecrated life, the problem we are facing, as I suggested earlier, has to do with narrowing the gap between the teaching we profess and our actual lived experience. We need to take a good, hard look at these urgent practical concerns. Review for Religious One way of doing so is to adapt the psychological language of action, voluntary disposition (or habims), and attitude to the experience and needs of consecrated life today. According to this understanding of human behavior, an action involves a single deliberate object and intention, while a voluntary disposition (as opposed to an unwanted involuntary habit) refers to an active pattern of behavior acquired through the continuous repetition of actions. An attitude, in turn, is an active disposition voluntarily acquired through the repetition of options, those value choices that define a person's life project. An action, in other words, is singular and concrete; a voluntary disposition, a deep-rooted deliberate pattern of behavior; an attitude, a deeply ingrained option for a particular set of values.4 Ideally, there exists a strong continuity be-tween a person's actions, voluntary dispositions, and attitudes. In real life, however, this continuity can manifest varying degrees of strength and is often even disrupted. The same could be said of the actions, voluntary dispositions, and attitudes of a family, group, or religious community. When applied to communities of consecrated life in the light of the church's teaching on the spirituality of communion and the gap between vision and lived experience, it is of paramount importance that we find a way of helping to shape people's attitudes. To do so, we must recognize that there is a circular relationship between actions, voluntary dispositions, and the formation of attitudes. That is to say, attitudes give rise to various actions and voluntary dispositions and are at the same time shaped by them. To overlook these important relationships is to risk forming consecrated persons whose actions run contrary to, or at best are inconsistent with, the values they truly hold and which define their life's project. This circular relationship between actions, voluntary dispositions, and attitudes means that religious communities Ideally, there exists a strong continuity between a person's actions, voluntary dispositions, and attitudes. September- October 2002 Billy ¯ Right Relationships in Consecrated Life must develop complex strategies for narrowing the gap between vision and lived experience. Such a strategy must involve an ongoing interplay between teachings, structures, practices, and critical reflection that enables individuals and the community to test and verify the vision that defines them so that it can be authentically nuanced (and perhaps redefined) to express what they truly are called to. From there, the community needs to develop structures and practices that will reinforce in daily life the values expressed by this defining vision. For the desired attitudes to truly take hold, these structures and practices need.to be firm yet flexible, taking into account the three principles of church teaching about right relationships: the dignity of the human person, the common good, and the virtue of solidarity. In today's world, communities of consecrated life cannot be effective instruments of the spirituality of communion if they do not make great efforts to inculcate these principles in the lives of their members. To do otherwise would increase the gap between vision and lived experience rather than narrowing it. Narrowing the Gap In his popular bestseller Maybe (Maybe Not), Robert Fulghum offers some important insights into what he calls the public, private, and secret lives of everyday life: Public lives are lived out on the job and in the marketplace, where certain rules, conventions, laws, and social customs keep most of us in line. Private lives are lived out in the presence of family, friends, and neighbors who must be considered and respected, even though the rules and proscriptions are looser than what's allowed in public. But in our secret lives, inside our own heads, almost anything goes.s Although Fulghum is writing about American society in general, his insight has, to my mind, special significance for our topic. If, in their attempts to narrow the gap between vision and lived reality, communities of consecrated life do not give due consideration to the attitudes behind the various dispositions and actions that they ask of their members, a dangerous rupture can take place between the public face they present to the outside Review for Religious world, the private life lived within the community, and a secret life known only to a few, hidden from other members, and institutionally suppressed and even denied. When this occurs, the dysfunction within a community can reach great intensity and cause great misery for both the members and those they claim to serve. A religious institution, I am suggesting, has not only a public and a private life, but also a secret life. For members to live in fight relationship with others, all three of these lives need to be acknowledged, understood, and dealt with in mature and responsible ways. Otherwise the gap between vision and lived experience will increase rather than diminish, and the community will be based on an illusion, living in a house of mirrors, where appearances deceive. A community of consecrated life, in other words, needs to get in touch with its shadow side, the darker part of the community's life, which influences decisions even though the community may be only peripherally aware of them. Only by acknowledging this dark side, taming it, and then befriending it will a community ever come to understand itself and be able to channel its vast resources in creative and constructive ways. I do not intend to go into specifics about what all of this means for the evangelical counsels or life in community. The church's teaching on these constituent elements of the consecrated life is clear and has been adequately developed elsewhere. What I will say, however, is that, when examining the spirituality of their particular institutes, communities need to look at the various gaps that exist

Issue 60.4 of the Review for Religious, 2001. ; tiving i:iturgy dialogue ~ ~ormation meeting God JULY AUGUST 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 4 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ ~¥eb site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2001 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for co~nmercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ fe0 rVreligious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McD6nough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm J.udy Sharp James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ JULY AUGUST 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 4 contents 342 living liturgy Eucharistic Praxis in Ecological Perspective: A Capuchin Look Edward Foley, Capuchin, proposes that shaping a liturgical ecosystem for a community includes creating a rhythm of corporate worship that provides space, time, and energy for private prayer and devotion. 365 377 dialogue Being a Hermit: W~nere and How? Kenneth C. Russell sees present-day hermits as needing, for practicality's sake, to build their lives out of solitude and humble earnings understood in tandem. Learning a Foreign Language: Continuing the Dialogue on Homosexuality Christopher Renz OP considers the continuing dialogue a way for all to find their deepest human identity in the God they seek to know better. formation 387 Reflections of a Novice Director George J. Auger CSV pictures the kind of candidates coming to religious life and why, and then proposes what we should be offering them. Review for Religious 397 What Can a Seminary Do? Donald Macdonald SMM develops the notion of a seminary as a place where individuals are helped to mature within a gospel framework. 408 Commitment to Faithfulness Elizabeth McDonough OP briskly reminds herself and other religious that God's faithfulness through the changes and tensions of thirty-some years calls them today to the same fidelity their vows joyously witnessed to on the day of their first profession. 413 419 Flames of Love: Living Contemplatively Carolyn Humphreys OCDS describes holiness in terms of living a contemplative life, that is, an adventure in love. An Experience of Christian Meditation Ernest E. Larkin OCarm offers some theological observation, simple personal description, and succinct analysis of his own experience of the Christian Meditation of John Main OSB. 338 Prisms 432 Canonical Counsel: Renewal of Vows and Perpetual Profession 438 Book Reviews July-August 200 t prisms Ppe J~)hn Paul II has declared more men and women blessed and canonized saints than any of his predecessors in the papacy. He himself has explained his action by saying that we are more than ever in need of many models--some from within our countries or cultures, others closer in time--to aid us in our own Christian living. We also might suspect that the need for recognition of holy women and men as models and helps for our life is heightened by the individualism that has become embedded in our United States culture and similar cul-tures. When we move about in a cultural individualism, there is a tendency to make even our faith an individual conquest. "I" will save my soul--of course, with Jesus' saving grace. But still it is "my" effort. From the very beginning of the Christian com munity, St. Paul stressed the importance of our being a communion of saints. Although Paul's Greek word koinonia is rendered by the English fellowship more often than the English communion, the idea cannot be mistaken. Paul's conversion experience on the road to Damascus would never let him waver from the conviction that the (persecuted) Christians' union together with Christ is so intimate that Jesus can say "I am Jesus, the one you are persecuting." That same experience roots the Pauline image of the Body of Christ in which all Christians are members, differing in gifts and functions, but all being necessary for the healthy functioning of the Body. Review for Religious The reality that we need to hold on to today is the truth that "we all need one another." The communion of saints reminds us of this fact. As it has developed over time, the communion of saints refers first to us baptized and now living our seemingly humdrum lives within our church communities. The communion of saints means also those who have died and are officially recognized by the church as the holy ones giving example for us. The communion of saints includes finally those who have died--sometimes identified as the "souls in purgatory"--many of whom we remember dearly and who for their part still remain caring and concerned for us. The fullness of the meaning of the communion of saints keeps all of us caring and concerned for one another--in our union with Christ and in the power of the Spirit. In our creed, we profess that we believe in the "sanctorum communio"---that is, not only a union among holy people but also a people made holy by their participation (communio) in holy things (the sacraments). Today we are being called to put that belief into action. In our remembering those who have died, both the recog-nized saints and those everyday ones of our families and friends, we are joined in a conversation--a special conversation that has been traditionally called prayer--praying for one another! We need to be aware of the stories of their lives so that we can know and feel their strength and their compassion and their receiving of God's grace through participation in the sacramental life. We, the now-members of this church on earth, must hold one another in prayer, both public liturgical and personal private, and reach out with helpful hands to one another because we are in communion, the union of holy ones sustained by holy things. We are not alone; we live our life of faith in communion. David L. Fleming SJ P.S. Our advisory board--one concrete instance of the communion of saints--says a goodbye full of gratitude to Sister Kathryn Richards FSP, Father Joel Rippinger OSB, and Sister Patricia Wittberg SC on the completion of their terms. We welcome with thanks Sister Raymond Marie Gerard FSP, Father Eugene Hensell OSB, Father Ernest E. Larkin OCarm, and Sister Miriam D. Ukeritis csJ. ff~uly-August 2001 EDWARD FOLEY Eucharistic Praxis in Ecological Perspective: A Capuchin Look living liturgy The teaching of the Catholic Church on the Eucharist is both clear and challenging. As the primary sacrament of the church, the Eucharist, like the liturgy itself, is the "font and summit of the church's life." Therein, how-ever, lies a certain paradox, for how are both the whole of the church's liturgy and the Eucharist itself the fount and summit of the church's life? Sometimes our response to this mystery is to oppose various aspects of the church's liturgy, one against another: Eucharist vs. the Liturgy of the Hours, Eucharistic liturgy vs. Eucharistic devotions, and so forth. The tension in such pairings appears in the shaping of an horarium for community prayer. Sometimes an horarium has little place for any-thing but the celebration of Eucharist; other times community prayer makes little space for the celebration of Eucharist. Maybe there is another way. This is a time of unusual theological ferment and liturgical turmoil, specifically regarding the role and manner of celebrating the Eucharist. Exceedingly diver-gent understandings of Eucharist mark the present-day Edward Foley OFMCap, a professor of theology, wrote this position paper (here somewhat revised and abridged) for three Capuchin provinces. Its reflections may well have relevance for others too. Foley's address is Catholic Theological Union; 5601 South Cornell Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60615. Revie~ for Religious Catholic Church. In this global, ecclesial, and Capuchin context, the following reflections cannot resolve all differences. The mod-est goal here is to provide some theological and pastoral principles as a basis for dialogue in full view of our commonalties and dif-ferences. Though addressing specifically Capuchin life and prayer, these principles may be helpful to members of other religious com-munities too. There is no little irony in the fact that contemporary exchanges about this central sacrament of love have been among the most cantankerous, even vitriolic, that the modern church has witnessed. The differences in eucharistic theologies among Catholics have often degenerated into questioning others' moral integrity and even challenging of their fidelity to the church. For the followers of Francis, there is another way. Embracing our founder as a true vir catholicus,2 we assume that those who profess to follow the gospel after him are also viri catholici. Thus, trusting in the authen-tic Catholicity of our brothers, "let us cultivate mutual dialogue [and] let the spirit of brotherly understanding and sincere esteem permeate everyone." 3 Theological and Pastoral Principles Among the many theological and pastoral principles that are important for reflecting on the Eucharist in the lives of 2 lst-cen-tury Capuchins, six seem particularly important. Liturgy as fount and summit. As previously noted, the Second Vatican Council asserts that the liturgy is the fount and summit of the church's life.4 This pivotal dogmatic assertion is often recast in the language of theologia prima. Recognizable across the Christian traditions (asserted by Catholics,5 Protestants,6 and Orthodox7 alike in this postconciliar era), this ancient belief holds that the act of worship is the church's first theology and a prized expression of our faith and our dogma. Liturgy as expressive and creative. A corollary of the dogmatic assertion about the liturgy as fount and summit of the church's life is that worship not only expresses the church's faith but also creates it. While the former is readily recognized, the implica-tions of the latter are seldom acknowledged. To admit worship as creative and generative of faith and belief is to say that worship not onl~ announces what has been accomplished, but also proclaims what is yet to be achieved. Our common prayer is just as much July-August 2001 Foley * Eucharistic Praxi~ in Ecolog~cM Perspective about our future as it is about the present or the past. Worship is thus a critical and corporate rehearsal of the church's mission and is essentially formative for all Christians and all Capuchins, whether they are in initial or ongoing formation. Liturgy is for people as well as for God. Liturgy's expressive-creative power is directed not only to God, but to people as well. The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy repeatedly connects "human sanctification" and "God's glorification" when it speaks of the purpose of the liturgy,s In most of these formulations, the sanctification of people is actually mentioned before the glorification of God. While this might strike some as odd if not problematic, implicit in this ordering of the text is the ancient Christian understanding that, while liturgy (in order to be true to its nature) must give glory to God, God is not in need of the liturgy or sacraments; only people are. Thomas Aquinas, like 6ther Christian theologians throughout the ages, affirms the perfection of God,9 who is in need of nothing from humanity, while affirming that human beings need sacraments,l° Furthermore, giving priority to the sanctification of people in worship acknowl-edges God's initiative in the liturgy and admits that our glorifying response is secondary. Thus the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that the signs and symbols of the liturgy "can become means of expressing the action of God who sanctifies men, and the action of men who offer worship to God" (§1148). Liturgy must address human need in its cultural context. For wor-ship to achieve effectively the sanctification of people, it must address their local cultural contexts. The church is always made present in a given place and time by a local church through its liturgy,n In each setting the rites "need to be adapted to the capac-ity of the faithful.''12 If culture is "the whole of human activity, human intelligence and emotions,''~3 then attending to human need in its cultural context requires consideration of ethnic and linguistic differences and attention to the broad diversity that marks any and every worshiping community?4 It is only by respect-ing the local contexts that the liturgy will meet the magisterium's variously articulated criterion that worship "be meaningful and appealing to the body of worshipers." ~s Liturgical practice heeds to be understood within our pluriform tradition. A myth of Christian beginnings is that Christianity was born in unity and moved toward pluriformity. The opposite is true, however. The noted biblical scholar Raymond Brown could Review for Religious write about the churches--not church--the apostles left behind26 The diversity of early liturgical practice appears in the fact that a common institution narrative cannot be found across the New Testament.17 Regarding issues like the frequency of eucharistic celebration, the tradition is similarly diverse. In primitive, patristic, and even early-medieval Christianity, there seems to be no common pattern for the celebration of daily Eucharist. It certainly was not part of early Christian monasticism.~s It is only in the 8th century that there is evidence for daily Eucharist for the church of Rome, and then only during the solemn season of Lent. 19 Fasting in this period presumed fasting from Eucharist; this concept of "fasting from Eucharist" for the sake of a later heightened experience of Eucharist marks the spirituality of various individuals; groups, and movements in the church and is an instance of one among var-ious ways of valuing Eucharist.2°~As to our Franciscan tradition, daily Eucharist does not appear to be a presumed part of the ear-liest vision of Francis for his community, though there is a pre-sumption of a daily celebration of the Divine Office.2~ Well into the Middle Ages, some communities of religious had an ordinary horarium that did not include the daily Eucharist, but rather a Communion service, as attested by various medieval ordines for Communion without celebration of the Eucharist.22 Even today, for significant segments of the Catholic Church, daily Eucharist has never been the norm.23 Our liturgical tradition is dynamic. In order to contribute to people's sanctification according to their particular needs in their particular culture, our liturgical tradition must be living and dynamic. Our Franciscan history demonstrates the dynamic nature of the church's liturgical tradition in response to the prophetic. For example, Innocent III and the Roman curia granted Francis and his followers the unprecedented permission to develop as a community of penitential preachers. Until that time, permission for groups to do itinerant preaching and to practice mendicant poverty In primitive, patristic, and even early-medieval Christianity, there seems to be no common pattern for the celebration of daily Eucharist. July-August 2001 Foley * Eucharistic Praxis in Ecological Perspective had been extended only to established communities previously declared heretical and now being reunited with the church.24 Francis's "novel" request and prophetic vision to live the idea of evangelical perfection, however, both challenged and changed the church's tradition regarding who can and should preach. Admitting the diverse and dynamic nature of our tradition suggests that shaping worship patterns cannot be reduced to find-ing the answer from the past, but instead requires us to make care-ful decisions--not only drawing upon but also contributing to the church's ever evolving tradition. An Ecological Vision of Liturgical Praxis One cannot appropriately discuss the Eucharist in the life of any Christian without seeing it in the life .of the church. After asserting that the whole of the liturgy and not just the Eucharist is the fount and summit of the church's life, Vatican II then notes the special importance of Eucharist within the liturgical economy.2s Asserting this, however, is ipso facto to assert the rela-tionality of the Eucharist to the other sacraments, to the rest of the church's liturgy, and to the whole of the church's life as well. Included are the Liturgy of the Hours, sacramentals, and popular devotions. Endorsing popular devotions, the council directs that these devotions "should be so fashioned that they harmonize with the liturgical seasons, accord with the sacred liturgy, are in some way derived from it, and lead the people to it.''26 I propose to consider this liturgical relationality by means of an ecological metaphor. A relatively new science, ecology studies the relationship of plants and animals to their physical and bio-logical environment.27 Among its major emphases is the depen-dence of every form of life on other living things and on the natural resources in its environment--an insight already recorded in the writings of Charles Darwin (+1892). While it may seem odd to employ what could be considered a naturalistic framework for reflecting on Catholic worship,'recent developments in theology suggest otherwise. Since the late 20th century, theologians around the world have recognized the link between social harmony and ecoharmony and shown the impor-tance of an ecological perspective.2s In 1988 a consultation by the World Council of Churches recognized what they called the integrity of creation, that is, "the value of all creatures in and for Review for Religious 'themselves, for one another, and for God, and their intercon-nectedness in a diverse whole that has unique value for God.''29 Theologies of ecology, according to Robert Schreiter, are a major flow in contemporary global theological discourse.3° Recendy the ecological perspective has been employed in liturgical theology?' For Franciscans the ecological perspective comes from the spiri-tuality of our Father Francis, who our constitutions remind us "felt united by a fraternal bond not only to people but to all crea-tures as well" (§97:1) and whom the church has proclaimed the patron saint of ecology. Here it will be useful to offer a few ecological principles to facilitate our using the ecological metaphor when speaking of community worship: ¯ Changes made in any environment affect all of the organisms in that environment. ¯ The continued existence of a whole group or life community involves a shifting balance or "dynamic equilibrium" among its members. ¯ A community and its environment constitute an ecosystem which draws vital materials from its surroundings and transfers materials to it, ¯ Competition, a characteristic of all communities, is unusually keen in areas where one type of community overlaps with another. ¯ An orderly, predictable sequence of development or "ecological succession" takes place in any area. With these principles it becomes clear that no one liturgical element in a community's liturgical ecosystem can be modified or eliminated without the other liturgical elements in the life of a faith community being affected. Just as apparendy inconsequential species of fauna or animal life contribute to the health of an ecosystem and cannot be altered or eliminated without creating an imbalance, so is it advisable to consider the whole of a faith community's public prayer life from perspectives of holistic health and balance. All the elements are interrelated. This means, for example, that considering the frequency of Eucharistic liturgies separately is inadequate. Not to consider them in relation to the Liturgy of the Hours could unintentionally diminish the latter, which is important to the life of the church and our brotherhood. Furthermore, given the foundational prin-ciple that worship shapes faith and is essentially formative, an isolated emphasis on Eucharist could give Capuchins an impaired perspective on the nature of Christ's presence and inadequate experiences of the multiple modes of his presence as dogmatically asserted by Vatican II.32 July-August 2001 Foley * Eucharistic PraMs in Ecological Perspective In shaping a liturgical ecology for any community, a number of elements need to be kept in balance. One is frequency of cele-bration. The issue of frequency needs to be raised about all elements of worship and not .just the Eucharist. Another issue is quality for each and every ritual element in a community's life of faith. Quality is affected by the amount of time both ministers and community have in preparing for worship and also by the resources available in that preparation. A third issue is continuity across the ritual life of a community. Each facet of a community's prayer life should reflect the quality and richness of the ritual resources avail-able to a community. Music, multilingual prayer patterns, ritual gestures, enhanced environment, and so forth should not be limited to one element in a community's worship repertoire, but should enhance the whole of its liturgical life. These resources need to be shared so that one element of a community's prayer does not drain all of its energy and resources, reducing the remaining elements to secondary experiences. Such continuity respects the principle of progressive solemnity,33 which admits a certain rhythm of more or less festivity, more or less simplicity, according to the day or the season. Shaping a liturgical ecosystem for a community includes creating a rhythm of corporate worship that provides space, time, and energy for private prayer and devotion. This is essential if corporate worship is to be truly life-giving and spiritually nour-ishing. The rhythm, quality, balance, and intensity of corporate prayer cannot be so overwhelming or burdensome that it hinders personal lives of prayer. An authentically hea!thy liturgical ecology not only requires a rhythmic balance of frequency, quality, continuity, shared resources, and progressive solemnity in a faith community's worship, but also in the whole of its life. Recall that the council has said that the liturgy is the fount and summit of the church's life, not simply its worship. Liturgical spiritualities are not shaped in a vacuum, but emerge and flourish in the interplay of liturgy and life. This vital connection is clearly shown in the New Testament, where the Greek words leitourgia (service) and leitourgein (to serve) do not occur as isolated terms for worship, They also refer to the missionary proclamation of the gospel, taking up a collection for the poor, and even the state's function as appointed by God.34 Commenting on this New Testament language, Ferdinand Hahn says that "the terminological evidence means not only that any Review for Religious cultic understanding of Christian worship is out of the question, but also that there is no longer any distinction in principle between assembly for worship and the service of Christians in the world."" Karl Rahner speaks about this living service of Christians as the "liturgy of the world," the name he gives to that "terrible and sub-lime liturgy, breathing of death and sacrifice, which God cele-brates through the length and breadth of human history.''36 Following upon the belief that God's self-communication (grace) is always present in the world, Rahner believes that every genuinely human experience at least implicitly mediates God's self-communication to us. Concerned that--unlike the experience of the early Christian community--liturgy today is too isolated from the rest of reality, Rahner poses the whole of human life as a kind of "liturgy." When we gather for the church's explicit public worship, according to Rahner, we are not doing something apart from what we are called to do in the rest of our lives. Thus "the liturgy of the church is the explicit manifestation of the implicit liturgy of our lives.''3~ An ecoliturgical approach to worship, then, demands not only a balance of resources, time, energy, quality, and continuity across the cultic aspects of a community's life, but also between cult and living, between liturgy and life. It is such an image that comes to us in that idyllic picture of early Christian living from the Book of Acts: They devoted themselves to the apostles' instruction and the communal life, to the breaking of bread and the prayers . Those who believed shared all things in com-mon; they would sell their property and goods, dividing everything on the basis of each one's need. They went to the temple area together every day, while in their homes they broke bread. With exultant and sincere hearts they took their meals in common, praising God and winning the approval of all the people. Day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved. (2:42-47) A Capuchin Ecology of Liturgy: The Components According to our constitutions, there is a foundational triad for any authentic Capuchin liturgical ecosystem: Eucharist, the Liturgy of the Hours, and contemplation. The Eucharist. Regarding the Eucharist, the constitutions call for full, conscious, and active participation in the Eucharistic sac-rifice (§48:1). They instruct that in our fraternities a community July-August 2001 Foley ¯ Eucharistic Praxis in Ecological Perspective Mass should be celebrated each day, and, where this cannot be done each day, it should be celebrated periodically and partici-pated in by all brothers (§48:2). Notable in this'instruction is the emphasis on appropriate preparation (§47:3), active participation (§48:1), and especially the building up of the fraternity (§§47:1, 2, 3; 48:2, 5). It is reasonable, therefore, to conclude that, while our constitutions present daily Eucharist as the ideal, it is not one to be achieved at any cost. Eucharistic celebrations without deliberate preparation, a spirit of "creativity and spontaneity" (§47:3), and especially a rhythm of celebrating Eucharist that does not contribute to the building up of the experience38 of fraternity is to be avoided. This last emphasis on the Eucharist's contribution to a spirit of fraternity takes on new meaning as we become increas-ingly aware of the way that our order was clericalized early in its history, and today are conversely experiencing a renewal of the foundational vocation of brotherhood. The Liturgy of the Hours. As for the Liturgy of the Hot~rs, our constitutions call for the daily celebration of the church's prayer, and, where it cannot be celebrated in its entirety, at least Morning and Evening Prayer are to be celebrated (§50:2). Besides this "house obligation," there is the further canonical requirement that all fri-ars in major orders and solemn vows are bound to pray the Liturgy of the Hours. Embedded in the instruction and laws regarding the Liturgy of the Hours is a series of important principles. Consistent with their instruction on Eucharist, our constitutions again empha-size how the Liturgy of the Hours contributes to building up the fraternity (§§47:2; 50:2, 5)--thus the importance of communal rather than individual celebration of the Hours. Beyond the brotherhood, however, the constitutions also recognize that the Liturgy of the Hours is the prayer of the whole church and recommends that, according to local circumstances, the Liturgy of the Hours should be celebrated with the faithful (§50:3). Finally, it is again notable that, when discussing the Liturgy of the Hours, our constitutions speak about not only frequency but also quality of celebration. Building on the concept of Franciscan prayer as "affective," the constitutions talk about the word of God in the Liturgy of the Hours penetrating our hearts (§51:2). To that end, these celebrations are to be "living and vibrant, with praiseworthy intervals of silence" (§51:2) and, as far as possible, celebrated with song (§51:3). Mental Prayer Our constitutions say that mental prayer is an essential spiritual exercise of the brothers and should be practiced Review for Religious daily (§52:3). The constitutions note that this exercise of mental prayer not only unites us individually with Christ, but also contributes to the efficaciousness of the corporate experiences of the Sacred Liturgy (§52:2). The constitutions expend a consider-able amount of energy exhorting the brothers to engage in con-templation and, in particular, charges superiors and local chapters with fostering this spirit of prayer (§§52:4; 53:3, 4). They also encourage the brothers to cultivate this spirit of prayer among the people of God (§53:6). What is somewhat surprising, however, is that the constitutions do not give much attention to the fraternal aspects of mental prayer or examine how contemplation has corporate as well as individual benefits and builds up the fraternity. Devotions. Besides this foundational triad of Eucharist, Liturgy of the Hours, and mental prayer, the constitutions give some atten-tion to devotions. In particular, they note the importance of devotion to the mysteries of the humanity of Christ, especially his nativity and passion (§54:2). They encourage us to venerate Mary, our mother and patroness, especially through liturgical wor-ship and the rosary (§54:3). They encourage us to venerate St. Joseph (§54:4), our holy Father Francis, and the saints, especially Franciscan saints (§54:5). They note the importance of reading Sacred Scripture and other spiri-tual books (§58:1). Echoing the teaching of the council, the constitutions wisely say that these devotions should always be in conformity with the spirit of the liturgy. And they are consistent in emphasizing that recollection and contemplation, especially apparent in the gift of silence, should mark our prayer (§57~ 1). A rhythm of celebrating Eucharist that does not contribute to the building up of the experience of fraternity is to be avoided. A Capuchin Ecology of Liturgy: The Principles Following basic laws of nature, every healthy ecosystem achieves its own natural equilibrium of the given particulars. So too does every healthy liturgical ecosystem, balancing particulars according to the basic principles of liturgy and Christian life. In pursuing this reflection on liturgy in Capuchin life, let us look at :~dy-dugust 2001 Foley * Eucharistic Praxis in Ecological Perspective certain particularities of our Capuchin charism, of our various ecclesial and provincial contexts. Fraternity. Few images permeate our tradition as much as that of fraternity. Our constitutions not only stress the cultivation of fraternal life among members of the order (§§84-96), but actually approach all of humanity (§83) and even all of creation (§11:2) fraternally. A Capuchin ecology is a.fraternal ecology, and broth-erhood is a privileged way that Capuchins perceive each other, the church, all human beings, and every creature. Our constitutions recognize, too, that the liturgy must nourish our fraternal life (§47:1); it must be the fount and summit of our fraternal life. For fostering brotherhood throughout the order, the province, and the local community, the constitutions mention "common prayer" first (§11:3). They also suggest that growth in fraternity and the flourishing of fraternal charity become an important criterion for evaluating a community or province's prayer life. If the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy could say that "the full and active participation by all the people is the aim to be considered before all else,''39 analogously it seems appropriate to suggest that fraternal development among Capuchin brothers is the aim to be considered before all else in a Capuchin ¯ liturgical ecology. If growth in fraternal charity is a necessary outcome of authentic Capuchin worship, then worship must not only intend to enhance fraternity, but must do so in fact. Worship needs to satisfy certain human needs if it is to be an effective source of sanctification. What differentiates liturgy after Vatican II from that of the previous period is the contemporary emphasis on pe.rformance that actually satisfies this human need, rather than simply intending to do so. Intention is important but insufficient. There are few more telling statements of this principle than the United States bishops' assertion that "good celebrations foster and nourish faith; poor celebrations may weaken and destroy it.''4° In the "performance" of our common worship, therefore, it is essential that our patterns of prayer support the fraternal hospitality and inclusivity which are the hallmarks of our life. Given that the official liturgy of the church is traditionally a clerical domain, there is a special responsibility among Capuchins to develop prayer patterns that are inclusive of the nonordained. While ordained brothers may not intend to marginalize nonor-dained brothers, it can and does happen. The advice of the U.S. Review for Religious bishops directed to preachers is useful to ponder here: "If exclu-sion is heard, then exclusion is communicated, whether intended or not."41 More pointed is the language of the Fourth Plenary Council of the order (CPO IV), which expresses concern about "a community of priests who draw inspiration from Franciscan spir-ituality., without sufficient discernment" and therefore risk pro-pelling the order towards increasing clericalization" rather than being "a fraternity of lesser brothers endeavoring to live the gospel.''42 Minority. A pivotal concept for the essence of Capuchin fraternity is that of "lesser brothers." Minority, as outlined by CPO VI, is "a genuine manifestation of interior poverty, which in the Franciscan life-project also expresses itself externally as humility of heart and lack of power, and as solidarity with the needy and the deprived.''43 As noted by the gen-eral ministers of the First Order and the Third Order Regular (TOR), while the Franciscan order at its foundation was in fact a mixed institute, Francis did not intend to retain both cleric broth-ers and lay brothers as necessary components of the fraternity. The general ministers conclude: "In order to be 'religious' according to Francis's project, a 'lesser brother' does not need to be either cleric or lay."44 If all future applicants sought to be one or the other, the order's foundational concept would be undisturbed. The Second Plenary Council of the order challenged us "to pray as lesser brothers.''~s This challenge is to pray and live out that prayer in such a way as to avoid any and every impression of the superiority of one brother over another. Maintaining this spirit is a particular challenge in the context of Eucharistic worship, which many in recent years have experienced as.a source of oppression, not grace.46 Eucharistic leadership is not a right but a privilege. In a Capuchin context, it must contribute to the sense of meekness and minority among all the brothers. Only then will it fulfill the vision of CPO II, which imaged prayer--especially the Eucharist-- as an act of conversiono47 If that is not a fruit of Eucharistic or any other worship, the worship is for naught and actually diminishes the fraternal bond. The personal preferences and prerogatives of A pivotal concept for the essence of Capuchin fraternity is that of "lesser brothers." July-August 2001 the ordained, then, should not dominate any aspect of a Capuchin liturgical ecology. Rather, the ordained brothers need to under-stand and accept that in the liturgy they are special servants48 and that their concern is "the common spiritual good of the people of God [and all the brothers]49 rather than., personal inclination or arbitrary choice." so A Mixed Community. One recent contribution to understanding Capuchin life that can help in shaping a Capuchin liturgical ecology is the language of a "mixed institute." Pope John Paul II used this language in his letter to our minister general, John Corriveau, when he recognized that the Capuchins "constitute a fraternity made up of clerics and lay people who share the same religious vocation according to the Capuchin and Franciscan charism.''~ Mixed communities, according to the postsynodal apostolic exhortation l, qta consecrata, are .institutes "envisaged as a brotherhood in which all members, priests and those who [are] not priests, [are] considered equal among themselves."52 Some of the brothers, admittedly, 'think that the language of "mixed institutes" is not the best way to consider our life together. At the same time, th~ image of a mixed institute or community has a certain apostolic breadth that is lacking in our language of fraternity or minority. Our constitutions exhort us to "strive to nourish our spiritual life and that of the fraternity from the liturgy and .to open its treasures to the faithful" (§47:1). In a parallel vein, the Fourth Plenary Council of the order said that the aim of formation was to have men capable of living the gospel life in the worldS3--which implies that they be capable of praying and worshiping with all the p~ople of God, not just Capuchins. Most of the faithful in the Catholic world and most secular Franciscans are not "brothers" but "sisters." And so "fraternity" is not the best term to suggest our desire to share the treasures of the liturgy with them. Also, the terms "lesser ones" :and "minority" can be perceived as contributing to condescension towards and oppression of vast numbers of our sisters and brothers whom the world daily percei'(es as less valuable politically, economically, and personally and "minor" in worldly importance. The prophetic language of a "mixed community," whilenot suggesting fraternity and minority, does propel us into an apos-tolic mode regarding our liturgical ecology. If worship is .the fount of all Christian life, then it must also be the fount of Capuchin ministry and fratern)ty. The liturgy is a type of "rehearsal" of the Review for Religious Christian life. Rehearsal, in this sense, is neither the dramatic enactment of some long-finished historical event nor an imper-fect repetition of some act in order to get it right. Rather, it is a continual reentry into and appropriation of a rich and inexhaustible reality. Rehearsal so imagined is neither artificial nor preparatory; rather, it is ritual engagement with the truth. To rehearse, in the liturgy, our vocation as a mixed community is, therefore, to rehearse not only fraternity and minority among us Capuchin brothers, but also mutuality and collaboration among all the people of God.54 It is to announce prophetically the equal dignity of all the baptized in a "mixed" church and to honor each as integral and necessary to the church's worship. This is the "becoming" .and "living" of alternatives to oppression in a liturgical mode which CPO V called for?~ If we can tune our prayer life with sensitivity to the mixed community that is the church and can craft worship that is empathetic to all the baptized, thbse accomplishments will redound to the building up of the Capuchin fraternity and further realize our charism of minority. A Capuchin Ecology of Liturgy: The Contexts Besides considering the components and basic principles of a Capuchin liturgical ecology, it is important for us to look at the particular context which--given the ecological interconnectedness noted above--must impact one's own particular community's wor-ship, I will use my own context to illustrate this point. I belong to the St. Joseph (Midwest)Capuchin province in the United States. Two aspects of this context have a notable impact on shaping a Capuchin ecology for my province. One is the declining number of priests, especially apparent in the midwest and western United States. The other is a formation program that my province shares with the St. Mary province in the eastern United States and the Mary Mother of the Good Shepherd province in Canada. Working collaboratively .on initial formation has challenged my province to think interprovincially regarding continuing formation as well. I will flesh out some of the implications. The Broader Ministerial Situation. One context we must consider is the broader liturgical landscape of the church in which we are called to serve so that we can form and sustain men who are both comfortable and effective in that landscape. Of particular note in the United States is the declining number of active priests in the Jul)'-AUgltSt 2001 Foley * Eucharistic Praxis in Ecological Perspective U.S. and Canada and the growing phenomenon of Sunday Assemblies in the Absence of a Priest.s6 This reality grows in magnitude the further one moves away from the northeastern seaboard and travels west and south. For many people in the U.S. and Canada, not only is daily Eucharist an impossibility, but Sunday Eucharist is less and less frequent. Both the U.S. and Canadian bishops have issued ritu-als for Sunday Assemblies in the Absence of a Priest, The dif-ference between the two rituals demonstrates the wide range of possible responses to the shifting ecclesial landscape. What is most striking in this regard is the prominence the U.S.ritual gives to Holy Communion as a presumed' and integral part of the Sunday service in the absence of,the priest, whereas the Canadian ritual gives Holy Communion a secondary emphasis in its ritual,s7 Given this context, our minority can call us both to help people gather for Eucharist and also to stand in solidarity with them when they are forced to fast from Eucharist because of a lack of priests. The Formation Context. The other context for us Midwest Capuchins to consider in forming a healthy liturgical ecology is the joint formation setting (postulancy, novitiate, and year of integra-tion) that my province shares with two other provinces. The three provinces together stretch for several thousand miles, from Montana to Massachusetts. Distinctive ecclesial and community cultures are apparent across the vast populations of Catholics that we serve. Worship is often a focal point for these differences. This is especially true in a joint house of formation, where the expec-tation is that young Capuchins will be shaped in prayer patterns that not only' are credible for them but also will not create disso-nance with others in their home provinces, Like the liturgy, formation is about both the present and the future. Worship is not formation per se, but it is formative. Worship has an essential role to play in initial formation, as in all Capuchin life. For those in initial formation, however, worship serves some distinctively different functions from those it serves for Capuchins in continuing formation. Worship, for Capuchins as for all other Christians, is of course for their sanctification and God's glorification. In initial formation, however, it has the added functions of acclimating and sensitizing beginners to lifelong rit-ualizing in a fraternal, minorite, mixed religious community. Furthermore, in my particular context, it has the function Of shap- Revie~v for Religious ing future ministers to serve in the diverse and shifting liturgical landscape of the North American church. Consequently, a liturgical ecology for Capuchins in our initial formation program must respond not only to the needs of the can-didates but also to the needs of the local Capuchin com.munity, and must also successfully expose them to the range of official worship patterns that currently mark the North American church. Furthermore, their worship should help beginning Capuchins not only in their personal prayer life but also in acquiring skills in liturgical planning and leader-ship. Beginners should develop more than toleration for various worship patterns. They should develop the litur-gical flexibility necessary for flourishing and ministering within those patterns. While it is possible to generalize about the worship needs of men in initial forma-tion, there is also ~normous diversity that must be taken into account. The somewhat leisurely, almost idyllic setting for novitiate, for example, is quite different from the frenetic pattern often apparent in a house where our simply professed are attending school. The centripetal momentum of the former is clearly different from the centrifugal forces of the latter. Thus, important nuancing and even differen-tiation in the patterns of a liturgical ecosystem seem to be required. One size does not fit all here. CPO IV speaks of initial formation as a process of apprentice-ship which initiates one into the proper balance between fraternal life, prayer, and workY If this apprenticeship is to be "organic," as cPO 1v suggests,s9 and in continuity with the fullness of Capuchin life, then the prayer patterns of any house of formation must be in continuity with the fullness of Capuchin prayer as well. Life and prayer in houses of formation must be considered in concert with the life and prayer of all the houses of the province. The Provincial and Interprovincial Context. An ecological perspective sees all worship patterns within the larger provincial The expectation is that young Capuchins will be shaped in prayer patterns that not only are credible for them but also will not create dissonance with others in their home provinces. ¯ Fo~ " Eucharistic Praxis in Ecolo~cal Perspective and interprovincial ecology we call Capuchin life. No house is an isolated liturgical ecosystem, but is part of a larger Capuchin environment. A sound liturgical ecology within any house, there-fore, must be in relation to the liturgical ecology of the province (which CPO IV calls the "the prime fraternity"6°) or provinces in which it exists. Otherwise a single community (for. example, the novitiate house) can be reduced to a hothouse, and the chances of successful transplant--or ecological succession--anywhere else in the community will be seriously diminished. Prayer patterns across a province should be familiar, hospitable, and of such quality that they beckon any friar who would visit that house to share in the prayer. Provincial leadership, and not simply a single house or two, has primary responsibility for addressing the health of the entire provincial and even interprovincial liturgical ecosystem. This means that prayer life, prayer leadership, prayer quality, prayer frequency, and prayer commitment are concerns for all members of a province and of all the provinces. These are con-tinuing- formation issues. To expend energy only on the liturgical life of specially designated "houses of prayer," retreat centers, or houses of initial formation, and not expend the same energy on the other communities contradicts the principles of fraternity, minority, and mixed communities articulated above. Suggestions for a Liturgical Ecosystem for Capuchins We have provided some fundamental theological and pastoral principles, introduced the concept of a liturgical ecology, and noted the unique components and principles of Capuchin life. We have also noted the need to address the specific Capuchin context in which a liturgical prayer pattern must be shaped. What follows is a recapitulation and an array of specific suggestions. General Liturgical Principles ¯ Quality61 is as important as frequency in shaping worship patterns. ¯ Some prerequisite factors for sustaining that quality are sufficient time for preparation, especially for the various min-isters; sufficient time for celebration, allowing for appropriate periods, of silence; sufficient energy for celebration so that a spirit of "creativity and spontaneity" marks the worship. ¯ Continuity across various worship forms is essential. ¯ Resources of time, energy, and the various liturgical arts need be shared across the vai'ious liturgical celebrations of a community's life. ¯ The principle Review for Religious of progressive solemnity needs to be observed, so that there is a reasonable and effective rhythm of celebration in each house of formation. ¯ Creativity, spontaneity, and a spirit of contemplation need to mark this worship. ¯ Eucharist, the Liturgy of the Hours, and contemplation are the foundational triad for community prayer. ¯ It is the local community that is best able to assess its needs, and thus is the primary agent for setting its prayer horar-ium. ¯ Capuchins in initial formation need to be exposed to the central worship forms of the people to whom they will be minis-tering in the future. ¯ Continuity of values, quality, frequency, and resources are necessary across a province (and sometimes among provinces) for the integrity of a liturgical ecology. Eucharist ¯ A rhythm of quality daily community Eucharist is the ordinary ideal for Capuchins. ¯ Besides the general prerequisite factors for sustaining this quality noted above, quality daily com-munity Eucharist also requires a sufficient number of competent62 ordained brothers to share the leadership of presiding. ¯ Sunday Eucharist, as the central worship act of the church, is more prop-erly celebrated with the larger ecclesial community. ¯ On some occasions other than Sunday, it is~appropriate for the brothers to have their need for Eucharist served by the wider ecclesial com-munity. ¯ On some occasions Communion services are an appro-priate communal prayer experience for the brothers. ¯ On some occasions "fasting" from Eucharist is appropriate in order to heighten a forthcoming Eucharistic celebration, for example, fasting from Eucharist on the vigil of a great feast with an enhanced celebration of First Vespers. ¯ Concelebration is not an absolute canonical right, and is properly regulated by both the ordinary of a diocese and the ordinary of a religious community.63 ¯ Concelebration is a value which must be balanced with other values such as fraternity; it is possible that in some situations con-celebration is not the ideal in 'a Capuchin community; it should not simply be the prerogative'of an individual concelebrant, and must be considered in view of the wider needs of the community. The Liturgy of the Hours ¯ Quality daily celebrations of Morning and Evening Prayer are the ideal for Capuchins. ¯ Besides the general prerequisite factors for sustaining the quality noted above, quality daily cele-brations of Morning and Evening Prayer presume a notable level of musicality. ¯ The Office of Readings is highly recommended July-August 2001 Foley * Eucharistic Praxis in Ecological Perspective as a form of individual lectio divina. * The Liturgy of the Hours is sufficiently important that it needs to stand on its own as a central form of community prayer, and thus ordinarily should not be com~ined with the Eucharist as a matter of expediency. Contemplation ¯ The daily exercise of mental prayer.is the ideal for Capuchins. ¯ Besides specific time devoted to mental prayer, a spirit of contemplation should mark community celebrations of Eucharist, the Liturgy of the Hours, and other devotional activities. Popular Devotions ¯ Popular devotions observed by individual friars or local com-munities need to contribute to the overall liturgical health of the community, especially the central triad noted above. ¯ Since such devotions often have strong cultural references, it is often better for the brothers to celebrate such devotions with the cultural and linguistic communities that embrace these devotions (for example, in my own context, the Guadalupe novena and Eucharist are best celebrated with a Latino community).¯ Popular devo-tions are clearly secondary in Capuchin prayer life. Decision Making ¯ Decisions about a local community's liturgical ecology belong to the local community, facilitated by the leadership. ¯ The decision-making process should be in a "convergence" mode (that is, based upon the convergence of the multiple factors which need be considered in planning), rather than a "displacement" mode (that is, focusing on one factor which displaces all other factors in the decision-making process).64 ¯ Decisions about a commu-nity's liturgical ecolbgy are not permanent but cyclic. A process of decision making and evaluation and new decision making is essential for the vitality and renewal of the ecosystem. ¯ The deci-sion- making process should be flexible enough that there is room for proper experimentation and error. Both are part of the cycle of growth and development. Notes ' Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (Sacrosanctum concilium; here-after CSL), §10. 2 From the first antiphon of First Vespers of the Office of St. Francis, composed by Julian of Speyer and others, Officium S. Francisci, Ad I Vesperas, Antiphonae I, Analecta Franciscana X, p. 375. English translation in Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, Vol. 1, ed. Armstrong et al. (New York: New City Press, 1999), p. 327. Review for Religious 3 Constitutions of the Capuchin Friars Minor, 84:2. 4 CSL §10. s For example, Aidan Kavanagh, On Liturgical Theology (New York: Pueblo, 1984), pp. 3, 8, passim, and David Power, "Cult to Culture: The Liturgical Foundation of Theology," Worship 54, no. 6 (1980): 484. 6 For example, Gordon Lathrop, Holy Things (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1989), p. 5; Don Saliers, Worship as Theology (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994), passim; Geoffrey Wainwright, Doxology (New York: Oxford University Press, 1980), p. 8. 7 Mexander Schmemann, Introduction to Liturgical Theology, 2nd ed. (New York: St. Vladimir Press, 1975), p. 12. 8 For example, §5 speaks of "the work of Christ our Lord in redeem-ing mankind and giving perfect glory to God"; §7, "Christ, indeed, always associates the church with himself in this great work in which God is perfectly glorified and men are sanctified"; §10, "From the liturgy, there-fore, and especially from the Eucharist, grace is poured forth upon us as from a fountain, and the sanctification of men in Christ and the glo-rification of God, to which all other activities of the church are directed as toward their end, are achieved with maximum effectiveness"; §61, "There is scarcely any proper use of material things which cannot thus be directed toward the sanctification of men and the praise of God"; and §112, "the purpose of sacred music, which is the glory of God and the sanctification of the faithful." 9 Summa theologiae I, q.4, aa. 1-3. 1o STIII, q.61, aa.l-4. 1, Congregation for Worship and Sacraments, Inculturation and the Roman Liturgy, §26. 12 Inculturation and the Roman Liturgy, §35; see CSL §34. 13 Pontifical Council for Culture, Toward a Pastoral Approach to Culture, §2. 14 For example, age, class, abilities and disabilities, educational back-ground, theological differences, and devotional needs. is This formulation is taken from the U.S. his.hops' 1972 document (rev. 1983) Music in Catholic Worship, §7. ~6 Raymond Brown, The Churches the Apostle~ Left Behind (New York: Paulist Press, 1984). 17 See, for example, Joachim Jeremias, The Eucharistic Words of Jesus, trans. Norman Perrin (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1977), pp. 138-203. 18 Adalbert de Vogii~, "Le Pr~tre et la Communaut~ monastique dans l'Antiquit~," La Maison-Dieu 115 (1973): 62-65. For one relatively exhaustive treatment of the gradual clericalization of monasteries and introduction of daily Eucharist, see Angelus Albert Hiiussling, "M6nchsKonvent und Eucharistiefeier," Liturgiewissenschaftliche Quellen und Forschungen 58 (Miinster: Aschendorffische Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1973). ffuly-August 2001 Foley * Eucharistic Praxis in Ecological Perspective ~9 See Antoine Chavasse, "Les grand cadres de la c~l~bration ~ Rome in Urbe et extra muros jusqu'~ VIIIe si~cle," Revue B~n~dictine 96 (1986): 7-26. 20 See Caroline Walker Bynum, Holy Feast and Holy Fast: The Religious Significance of Food to Medieval Women (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987). Zl See chap. 3 of both The Earlier Rule and The Later Rule in Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, Vol. 1, pp. 65-66 and 101-102; also A Rule for Hermitages, which makes no allowance for Eucharist but only for the Liturgy of the Hours, despite the presumption of three or four broth-ers living together, pp. 61-62. It was only in 1224 that the order was given papal permission to celebrate Mass within community houses, an act that commentators call "a clear testimony to an increasing clerical orientation in the order," p. 562. 22 See Jean Leclercq, "Eucharistic Celebrations without Priests in the Middle Ages," Worship 55, no. 4 (July 1980): 308-325. 23 Many churches in union with Rome (that is, part of the Catholic Church) that follow the Eastern rites limit the celebration of Eucharist to Sundays and major feasts. 24 See the assessment of the originality of the Franciscan project by Herbert Grundmann in his Religious Movements in the Middle Ages, trans. Steven Rowan (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1995), pp. 55-58. 2s "From the liturgy, therefore, particularly the Eucharist, grace is poured forth upon us as from a fountain." CSL §10. 26 CSL ~ 13. 27 Much of what follows is dependent upon the article "Ecology" by E.J. Dyksterhuis, in Compton's Encyclopedia On-Line (http://comp-tonsv3. web.aol.com/current_events/top_science.html), I.X~II.00. 28 See Dianne Bergant, The Earth Is the Lord's: The Bible, Ecology, and Worship (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1998), esp. pp. 14-16. 29 Bergant, Earth, pp. 15-16. 30 Robert Schreiter, The New Catholicity (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1997), p. 16. 3~ See "The Preparatory Rites: A Case Study in Liturgical Ecology," coauthored by Kathleen Hughes, Gilbert Ostdiek, and me, in The Ecological Challenge: Ethical, Liturgical, and Spiritual Responses, ed. Richard Fragomeni and John Pawlikowski (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1994), pp. 83-101. 32 CSL §7 speaks of Christ's presence in the ministers, the Eucharistic species, the sacraments, and the word and when the community prays and sings. 33 The General Instruction on the Liturgy of the Hours, §273. 34 See "leitourgeo" by H. Strathmann in Theological Dictionary of the Review for Religious New Testament, ed. Gerhard Kittel, trans, and ed. Geoffrey W. Bromiley (G~and Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1967), Vol. 4, 226-228. 3s Ferdinand Hahn, The Worship of the Early Church (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1973), p. 38. 36 Karl Rahner, "Considerations on the Active Role of the Person in the Sacramental Event," in his Theological Investigations, Vol. 14: Ecclesiology, Questions in the Church, The Church in the World, trans. David Bourke (New York: Seabury Press, 1976), p. 169. 37 Michael Skelley, The Liturgy of the World. Karl Rahner's Theology of Worship (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1991), p. 101. 39 Earlier in the constitutions it is noted that "Franciscan prayer is affective" (§46:6, emphasis mine). In view of this characterization and the previously noted need that liturgy be humanly appealing (see n. 14 above), it seems reasonable to assert that this ideal of daily Eucharist must be balanced with the need of a community for effective and affec-tire worship. 39 CSL §14. 4o Music in Catholic Worship, §6. 41 Fulfilled in Your Hearing, §8. 42 §§20-21, on p. 76 in The Path of Renewal: The Documents of the Five Plenary Councils and the First Assembly of the Order of Capuchin Friars Minor, ed~ Regis Armstrong. 43 §3, on p. 8 of Living Poverty in Brotherhood (Rome: Curia generale dei Frail Minori Cappuccini, 1998). ~4 The Identity of the Franciscan Order at the Moment of Its Foundation (1999), p. 35. 4s §14, on p. 31 in The Path of Renewal. ~ See Can VVe Always Celebrate the Eucharist? ed. Mary Collins and David Power (New York: Seabury Press, 1982), esp. the article by Enrique Dussel, pp. 56-65. 47 §16, on p. 31 in The Path of Renewal. 4s See §25 of the new Institutio Generalis Missalis Romani (2000). 49 The author's interpolation. so IGMR, §42. s* Letter of John Paul II to John Corriveau, 18 September 1996, as cited in Analecta OFMCap 112, nos. 3-4 (1996): 566. s2 Vita consecrata, §61. s3 §4, on p. 72 in The Path of Renewal; this image is reflected in our constitutions, §54. s4 See the related discussion in chap. 11 of the Fifth Plenary Council of the Order, in The Path of Renewal, pp. 116-121. ss §95, on p. 137 in The Path of Renewal. s6 In a recent report by the U.S. bishops on the priest shortage, the 3~uly-August 2001 Foley ¯ Eucharistic Praxis in Ecological Perspective following statistics were offered: total number of priests, 47,600; num-ber active in parishes, 27,000; ratio of priests to Catholics, 1 to 1257; number of dioceses reporting fewer priests than needed, 83 percent; parishes without a resident pastor, 2334; parishes directed by a nonpriest, 437; dioceses closing parishes, 13 percent; dioceses reducing number of Sunday Masses, 42 percent; dioceses expecting major increase in lay min-istry in the next 10 years; 86 percent. From the U.S. bishops' study The Impact of Fewer Priests on the Pastoral Ministry, as reported in the National Catholic Reporter, 30 June 2000. s7 Whereas the U.S. ritual provides for Communion as a possibility in all rituals presented (see §§25-36 in the U~S. publication Sunday Celebrations in the Absence of a Priest (New York: Catholic Book Publishing Company, 1994), the Canadian ritual provides only for Celebrations of the Word and of the Hours, without Communion (Sunday Celebrations of the Word: Gathering in the Expectation of the Eucharist [Ottawa: Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops, 1995]). s8 §50, on p. 88 in The Path of Renewal. s9 §57, on p. 92 in The Path of Renewal. 60 §80, on p. 101 in The Path of Renewal. 61 While there is no universal agreement on the meaning of "qual-ity," the U.S. bishops offer direction in this definition: "Quality means love and care in the making of something, honesty and genuineness with any materials used, and the artist's special gift in producing a harmonious whole, a well-crafted work," Environment and Art in Catholic Worship, §20. 62 While there may exist no unanimity regarding what constitutes "competency" for presiders', the point is that, given the critical and for-mative nature of Eucharist for beginning Capuchins, presidency is not a slot to be filled by anyone. Someone (presumably the directors of the various levels of formation) needs to take responsibility for quality con-trol in this area. My working definition of competency in presiding is: "an obvious level of development in the priest-presider that combines (1) solid knowledge of the liturgy with (2) competence and ease in perfor-mance skills (gestures, proclamation, and so forth) for enacting the rites, (3) a clear pastoral sensitivity for the assembly and other ministers, and (4) a transparent spirit of personal prayer," from Integration for Beginning Preachers and Presiders: A Study Funded by the Wabash Center fir the Teaching and Learning of Religion and Theology (1999). 63 See John Huels, "Concelebration," in Disputed Questions in the Liturgy Today (Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 1988), pp. 39-45. 64 See my "Evaluation of Roman Catholic Ritual Music: From Displacement to Convergence~" in my Ritual Music (Beltsville, Maryland: Pastoral Press, 1995), pp. 173-189. Revi~ for Religious KENNETH C. RUSSELL Being a Hermit: Where and How? Hermits face a basic practical problem: how to pay for the withdrawal from society that defines them. And their "apartness" does define them, as Jacques Winandy emphasizes: "'If separation from the world, and this alone, makes the monk' (Dom Gu4ranger), it must also, and by an even stricter claim, make the hermit."1 But how can hermits reconcile their desire to withdraw from the world and their need to be connected to it for financial reasons? Can hermits live at a distance from society and still be self-supporting--as the earliest eremitical tradition says they should be2--or is their solitude something to be paid for by others, either through outright gifts or a willingness to pay inflated prices for the small items they manufacture? How are they supposed to manage? After all, not everyone with a vocation to the eremitical life is a successful artist or a popular writer or a computer whiz who can sit on a distant hilltop and still earn real money. Not everyone who desires to be alone with God has a pension or investments to pay. the bills. For the last few centuries, no one has given much thought to where hermits should live and what work they might do. In fact, there was a tendency to regard Kenneth C. Russell, a frequent contributor, writes from 40 Landry Street, Apt. 1505; Ottawa, Ontario; K1L 8K4 Canada. JMy-August 2ool dialogue Russell ¯ Being a Hermit them as good-for-nothing nobodies who had no proper place in the regular structure of respectable consecrated life. But, after a long campaign by the pioneers of the eremitical revival, hermits have, as it were, been cleaned up and brought in from the cold. Canon 603 of the 1983 Code of Canon Law provides a much-appreci-ated mechanism by which they may gain recognition as individuals "dedicated to God in consecrated life." What effect, though, does this official recognition have on a hermit's fundamental problem: how to withdraw from society and still find money to keep a roof over his or her head and food on the table? Three Commentaries Canon 603 itself says nothing about the tension between the hermit's quest for solitude and his or her need of money. But, of course, the commentaries on the canon cannot ignore it. How do they deal with it? These commentaries are of some importance because they are among the texts likely to be consulted when a hermit seeks to be recognized as "one dedicated to God in consecrated life" by the profession of the evangelical counsels in the hands of'the diocesan bishop. These texts are also likely to influence those counseling would-be hermits on an appropriate course of action. I have focused on three commendable texts, each of which has much to offer anyone seeking information on the eremitical life. The first of these was prepared by the French Canonical Committee for Religious in 1993 at the request of the Episcopal Commission for the Religious State) (It is worth noting that in 1989 there were an estimated 150 hermits in France. Of the 79 female and 39 male he~rmits known to the episcopal authorities, 57 were monastics, 35 were religious, 7 were diocesan priests, and 19 were lay people.) The second text, written by D.J. AndrOs, was prepared in response to a request for guidance made to the Instituto Juridico Claretiano by some bishops from Spain, Brazil, and Italy. This long text, first published in 1986, offers a detailed model of dioce-san regulations which.might govern hermits in a particular church.4 The third text is an oft-referred-to article by Helen L. MacDonald titled "Hermits: The Juridical Implications," which appeared in 1992.5 I want to consider two questions. First, where do the authors Review for Religious of these texts think hermitages should be located? Second, what work do they suggest hermits do? In other words, I want to examine how these references deal with the tension between the hermit's distance from the world and his or .her need of cash. These are not directly questions of canon law, although the pattern of the canons dealing with religious life may influence how they are answered. Certainly the writers' conception of the eremitical life and the weight to be given to its various elements plays a role in determining where they think hermits should live and what they should do. Location and Work The outline of statutes Andr6s offers is the most restrictive of the three documents in regard to place and work. It situates hermits in isolated areas of mountainous regions. There is a practical reason for this idyllic setting since AndrOs, who.insists that hermits not work for others, recommends herbal gardening, beekeeping, and care of a flock as suitable employment for hermits. While he notes that the work undertaken by hermits' should not be too absorbing or exhausting, he also says that hermits should be financially independent. They should not expect the bishop or their family to bail them out when they have difficulties. AndrOs obviously believes that the "separation from the world" which characterizes hermits should be taken in a material, measurable sense. He also insists that physical labor should be part of hermits' penitential regime. Hermits, in other words, should not be exempt from the obligation to earn their living by the sweat of their brow. MacDonald takes a softer position in regard to hermits' paying their own way. She speaks of a need to determine how a candidates for recognition as hermits "will be financially supported. ,,6 This may come, she says, from work done in the her-mitage, contributions from family or a religious community, or, in the case of priests, from Mass stipends. She mentions the correc-tion of papers from college extension courses, weaving, painting, and making small crosses and other salable objects as work that could be done within the hermitage. The only exterior money-earning activity she mentions for nonclerical hermits is the possibility of part-time teaching. Like AndrOs, she points out that hermits have no right to expect support from the bishop. She Jnly-August 2001 Russell * Being aHermit find locations that foster the degree of isolation they need. notes, however, that he may fully or partially support a hermit if he chooses to do so. She concludes that "it doesn't matter much what the hermit does, as long as it is in keeping with the eremit-ical vocation and is approved by the bishop."7 MacDonald's openness to the idea that hermits might be supported by others or helped along with gifts of food or clothing suggests that she does not really expect most hermits to be self-sup-porting. It may be significant, therefore, that when she speaks of the work hermits do she puts the word labor in quotation marks. Since MacDonald situates hermits' work within the hermitage, she feels no obligation to locate the cell in a specific kind of place. She notes, in fact, that hermits can be found almost anywhere. Hermits, she argues, must find locations that foster the degree of isolation they need. Her understanding of solitude seems quite flexible; she believes that many hermits "will make daily visits to the poor or the sick.''s She maintains, nonetheless, that the loca-tion of hermitages should indi~:ate "a real sociological separation from the community.''9 She does not, then, measure hermits' iso-lation in miles or kilometers. Hermits need not, in her opinion, flee to hidden spots in the green countryside. The document of the French Canonical Committee for Religious also qualifies the sociological separation of hermits by pointing out that it does not exclusively or Hermits must even primarily refer to the avoidance of con-tact with others. The text notes, however, that individuals are not so caught up in eco-nomic and societal affairs as large groups. This peripheral status of hermits--compared, say, with that of a religious community-- should show itself by the solitaries' simplic-ity of life. But how is this life to be maintained? This document recognizes that the need to work can become a determinative factor in the sched-ules of hermits. It is a serious matter. Hermits are expected to support themselves. Candidates for official recognition are asked to consider what type of work they can do that both suits their aptitudes and respects the form of life they are about to embrace formally. The text does not suggest what sort of work hermits might take up. Nor does it indicate where they should locate their hermitages. It merely insists that the silence hermits need must be guaranteed by the solitary location of their dwellings. Revie~v for Religious Poverty Since work and a hermit's standard of living are integrally linked, we must look briefly at how the texts under consideration view the commitment to poverty that formally recognized hermits make. First of all, each text acknowledges the tradition that the poverty of hermits is a real, physical limitation. It is quite different from the poverty of members of religious institutions who, though they theoretically possess nothing in a personal way, share in the corporate sufficiency of the order or congregation to which they belong. Hermits obviously lack this "cushion," and, since they salvage as many hours as they can from the tyranny of work because of their desire to be silently with God, they are reduced to a standard of living that provides nothing but the basics. Even when hermits do not have to depend on work for their income, their focus on God alone strips away the distraction of material comforts. The poverty of hermits is neither the poverty of the destitute nor the poverty of religious. It is not a matter of not owning things, but of having little, whether owned or not. MacDonald explicitly acknowledges the difference between religious and eremitical poverty: "While poverty in an institute consists in being dependent on the superior or community for ~verything, the hermit may, in fact, own what is necessary while at the same time be lacking the very real security offered by belonging to a community.''1° The French committee of canonists points out, however, that the poverty of hermits poses a problem since canon 600 governing poverty in all forms of consecrated life does not seem to fit their situation. The committee notes that there are two ways of dealing with this issue. The first, which is more in conformity with tradition, views the poverty of hermits as a stripping to essentials in accord with the nature of the eremitical life. The second makes the diocesan bishop the hermits' superior in the strict sense, and not merely the overseer of their plan of life. The bishop, then, is seen as the "superior" whose administration and regulation control hermits' poverty. Although AndrOs emphasizes the real poverty of hermits, he seems, nonetheless, to be sympathetic to this second approach. When he states that solitaries should not own their hermitages, he is obviously bringing their poverty into conformity with the nonownership model of canon 600. His statement vividly illus-trates iust how untraditional this view of eremitical poverty actu- Russell ¯ Being aHermit ally is. Egyptian hermits may not have had a land claim on file in the local registry office, but they certainly thought of the huts they built with their own hands and at their own expense as belonging to them! I would argue that, while it may be inappropriate for a religious to own his or her dwelling, there is no reason why a contemporary hermit should not do so, if earlier savings make the initial down payment possible. A hermit's ownership of a modest apartment or cottage will not compromise the real poverty in which he or she lives. In fact, paying the mortgage will probably ensure it. Resolving the Tension Of the three texts examined, two attempt to resolve the tension between physical withdrawal from society and the need to make money by contact with it. Andr~s's document does this by locating the hermitage in a pastoral setting where the kinds of work it recommends can be done. MacDonald makes the hermitage the site of a cottage industry and then situates it to fit the hermit's tolerance for solitude. The French text does not address the tension directly. It vaguely locates the hermitage in solitude and leaves the question of how hermits might earn a living open, with the proviso, of course, that the work done not be detrimental to the lifestyle it is supposed to support. But how helpful are these texts? The mountaintop solution of Andr&s document obviously gives priority to the location of the hermitage. Isolation makes the hermit, as it were, and consequently the solitary place determines the work done. The text resolves the tension between the need to be connected for economic reasons and the desire to be separated, but unfortunately it limits who can be hermits since many people lack the aptitude for the work he thinks ideal. MacDonald's solution to the tension between withdrawal and the need to work is equally unsatisfactory. The hermitages may be located anywhere, but solitaries work in them at tasks that are unlikely to pay the bills. In this scenario hermits come close to being licensed charities like their medieval predecessors. MacDonald's attitude toward the economic status of hermits directly contradicts the French committee's insistence that hermits not be a burden to others. Unfortunately, its text says Review for Religious nothing about how hermits are supposed to pay for the solitude they are required to seek. Its silence, however, may indicate that the committee thinks bishops and hermits should adopt a practical attitude to the reconciliation of finances and solitude. Why There Is a Problem Why do hermits find it so hard to reconcile the need for soli-tude and the need to earn a livelihood? Why is this a problem? I believe there are two reasons. First of all, the recognition of the eremit-ical life in canon law has brought regulations in its wake. This was inevitable. Bishops cannot be expected to be responsible for what they cannot regulate. The real issue is just how much regulation is required. Andr~s's text goes into great detail on the various material and spiritual aspects of the solitary life. MacDonald's article and the document of the French committee "of canonists are more restrained. All the texts, as might be expected, fill in gaps in canon 603 by refer-ence to the canons governing individuals in religious communities. The consequence of all this is that, though hermits recog-nized by canon 603 are not religious according to the definition in canon 574, they tend to think of themselves and to be thought of as such. They are, as it were, drawn by the strong gravitational pull of religious life into a zone wher~ certain proprieties influence the conception of the kind of work they might do. Some jobs are thought respectable, some not. You might find a religious distributing clothing at her community's secondhand depot, but you will not find one handing customers their garments at the local dry cleaners. There is a good reason for this. Congregations have specific missions to fulfill in the church. The only problem is that this "religious" reason does not apply to hermits. They do not work to do good, but to earn the money they need to maintain their life of prayer. The fact that many hermits are monastics or priests or former religious strengthens this pull to conform to the respectability the Egyptian hermits certainly thought of the huts they built with their own hands and at their own expense as belonging to them! '371 . July-August 2001 Russell ¯ Being aHermit faithful associate with religious life. It is as though there is a line in the sand. On one side is the lay world with its way of doing things and, on the other, the religious world with its conventions. Canon 603 has clearly reached across the line and drawn the erstwhile solitary misfit out of secular society into a world where only certain ways of earning a living are considered proper. The shabby, "good-for-nothing" dropout whom no respectable order would admit has been spruced up and given standing in the church. It is only fitting, apparently, that such a "cloistered" individual earn his or her living "religiously." Hence we get the manufacture of pious items or other genteel pursuits within a hut up the lane from the "hermit lives here" sign. Benedict Joseph Labre and his fleas are still out in the cold! The second reason for the unrealistic approach to hermits' need for cash and quiet is, I suspect, an idyllic image of medieval hermits. Solitude is given such a priority in this conception of the eremitical life that any place other than a mountaintop or forest glade seems inappropriate for a hermitage. Unfortunately, the taming of hermits (whom Jean Leclercq called the least institu-tional of people) and the medievalizing of the image of solitaries hinder the adaptation of the eremitical life to the conditions of our time. Hermits face what might be called a Cluniac tempta-tion: to emphasize prayer to such an extent that work (penance!) and humility are neglected. Toward a Solution What, then, is the solution? How can the various components of the solitary life find their proper place in the regime of the hermit? The first step is to realize that the designation hermits is a catch-all word for a disparate group of men and women who, though they share certain common features, live these out in ways that are unique to each. The authors of the texts examined admit this. They tend to forget, nevertheless, that as a consequence the eremitical life resists organization and detailed regulatory prescriptions. If hermitswI am speaking here of nonmonastic hermits and of those who are not members of congregations tolerating them in their midst--can free themselves of the propriety associated With religious and can shed the medievalimage of the hermit, there is no reason why there should be any tension between their quest Review for Religious for solitude and their need to support themselves. Once the two issues are considered in tandem--as they were in the case of the solitaries in the Egyptian desert--hermits can seek solitude where they. can earn a living. And, if hermits are willing to live the hidden life of aloneness with God without display or privilege, there is no reason why those who lack the skills that make country living profitable should not find employment in the city. There is no rea-son why they should not take the same menial, part-time jobs that many lay people work at and live on. Living in the city will not compromise their anonymity or their noninvolvement in society's preoccupations or even their real phys-ical solitude. One can live in an apartment building for years with-out knowing one's neighbors by name. Encounters in the elevator seldom get beyond chitchat about the weather. In fact, the city offers greater possibilities for alone-ness than the country, where friendly and curious neighbors are likely to try to inte-grate the stranger in their midst into the community. The quiet of city hermits may not be the idyllic quiet that can be found The city offers greater possibilities for aloneness than the country. in the countryside (when snowmobiles and all-terrain vehicles are not on the move), but it can be authentic nonetheless. However, just as the need for quiet must determine where hermits live, even in the city, so their focus on God must govern the kind of work they do. A long tradition discourages work that wears the hermit out or that demands so much attention that there is no room for God. It may well be, then, that hermits, most of whom are mature individuals, will find that the skills they have acquired over the years do not fit their new calling. They may have to look for simpler, less demanding jobs that can be done and forgotten about when the shift ends. A Summary and Some Questions In this paper I have been concerned with how some influen-tial scholarly texts deal with the tension created by the need of hermits to distance themselves from society while remaining linked to it for sustenance. I have argued that there is a disturbing tendency to deal with hermits as though they are quasi-religious. I have expressed the fear that this conception of the hermit, which J~dy-August 2001 Russell * Being aHermit goes hand in hand with a rather romantic image of the medieval solitary, will stifle the development of the eremitical life. It threatens to freeze the life into a privileged leisure enjoyed by pensioners, the financially secure, and those willing to take hand-outs from others. The texts I have looked at are concerned with her~nits "rec-ognized by law as. dedicated to God in consecrated life" by a public profession of the evangelical counsels before the diocesan bishop. One need not make such a profession to lead an eremitical life. Many hermits never take this official step, some because they are satisfied with the private vows or promises they have made, and some because they have not been able to find a bishop willing to accept hermits. Do some hermits perhaps feel uneasy about being recognized? Is the term public profession another example of a concept borrowed from religious life that does not quite fit the reality of the eremitical' regime? Should it, like the notion of poverty, be reinterpreted? Of itself, the technical canonical term public does not seem to imply publicity. Elizabeth McDonough states that "the vows or other sacred bonds (that is, promises or formal commitments) pronounced by hermits are public because the canon refers to them as such and because they are received by the diocesan bishop in the name of the church (c. 1192, §2).''~ Both AndrOs and MacDonald, however, make the commitment of the hermit public in the ordinary sense of the word. AndrOs recommends that it take place in the subject's parish church on a Sunday or a feast day. MacDonald insists that the congregation be involved "whether the ceremony takes place in the cathedral, the nearest parish church, or the hermit's 'home parish.'''~2 This kind of public event may be fitting for someone making a monastic commitment or taking vows in a religious congregation. But does this understanding of public fit a hermit? Does it not vio-late the radical hiddenness the hermit seeks? Does it not tend to make him or her a religious in the eyes of the people? Does it not awaken expectations that he or she will conform to what is expected of religious? I am reminded of Emily Dickinson's remark in her pbem that begins "I'm Nobody! Who are you?" When she surmises that she is not alone because the reader may well be Nobody too, she cau-tions the person not to tell: "they'd advertise - you know!" Exactly. It seems to me that big public celebrations, newspaper articles, Review for Religious television coverage, and so forth are hindrances to the witness of hermits. This should depend on the peace that goes forth from them and not on the fact that others know they are hermits. They should have faith that living a hidden life has value even if only the bishop and a few intimates know about it. It would be unfortunate if a split developed between the offi-cially recognized hermits and their untamed, unregulated, scruffy counterparts. It would be a setback for the eremitical tradition if hermits recognized in law pursued a somewhat stylized and regulated eremit-ical life while their freelance peers held firm to the nonconformity that' has always pushed hermits to the fringe of society and the church. The following statement, however, by a renowned canonist, J. Beyer, suggests that this is just what is happening: "Today, besides the public witness of the hermits through their abandonment of the world, austerity of life, and external soli-tude, there are also hermits who remain in the world, live in reserve, supporting themselves by common manual labor. They are almost unknown, and in their cities they pray and work to the praise of God and for the salvation of the world.''3 I argue that this distinction between publicly recognized her-mits following a "classical" eremitical regime, on the one hand, and hermits living hidden lives "in the world," on the other, is detrimental to the renewal of the eremitical life. The distinction is a false one produced by an unrealistic religious view of how soli-taries should earn their living and where they should locate their hermitages. Unfortunately, the commentaries studied do not come to grips with these issues in a practical way. MacDonald and Andrts offer unrealistic advice while the French canonists leave the whole matter vague. Authentic hermits--whither recognized in law or not--want to be anonymous nobodies alone with God in a simple life of prayer and work. They need to be able to support their arduous, insecure, and unapplauded lifestyle in any appropriate way they can. They need to live where work is available. Formal recognition according to canon 603 should intensify their commitment to this hard life, not restrict their ability to live it. The witness of hermits should depend on the peace that goes forth from them. ffu~-August 2001 Russell ¯ Being a Hermit Notes ~ [Jacques Winandy], A Manual for Hermits:for the use of the Hermits of St. John tbe Baptist (privately printed, 1964), p. 10. For a revised version of this manual, see Jacques Winandy, Vie drdmitique: Essai d'ini-tiation, Vie monastique, Vol. 6 (B~grolles-en-Manges: Abbaye de Bellefontaine, 1976). 2 See my article "Must Hermits Work?" Review for Religious 59, no. 2 (March-April 2000): 156-174. 3 "Les ermites," in Comitd canonique fran~ais des religieux, Vie religieuse, dr~mitisme, consecration des vierges, communaut~s nouvelles: ~tudes canoniques (Paris: Cerf. 1993), pp. 163-181. 4 D.J. AndrOs, "Proyecto de estatutos diocesanos para los ermitafios de la iglesia particular de. Comentario aplicativo al can. 603 del CIC," Commentarium pro Religiosis et Missionariis 65 (1986): 185-248. s Helen L. MacDonald, "Hermits: The Juridical Implications of Canon 603," Studia canonica 26 (1992): 163-189. 6 MacDonald, p. 177 (italics added). 7 MacDonald, p. 186. s MacDonald, p. 187. 9 MacDonald, p. 184 10 MacDonald, p. 185. 11 Elizabeth McDonough, "Hermits and Virgins," Review for Religious 51, no. 3 (May-June 1992): 305. 12 MacDonald, p. 180. ~3 Quoted in The Code of Canon Law: A Text and Commentary, ed. James A. Coriden et al. (New York: Paulist Press, 1985), p. 468 (italics added). Cleft for Me The hand that formed the firmament, that fit galaxies together and fashioned me, now hangs limp, nailed to a tree. Yet that mangled hand still has the power to cleave the rock inside of me. Teresa Burleson R~view for Religious CHRISTOPHER J. RENZ Learning a Foreign Language: Continuing the Dialogue on Homosexuality I;his poem "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening," Robert rost describes the woods as dark and deep, an appropriate metaphor for emotions present in discussions on homosexuality in religious and priestly life. One need only compare two recent articles to get a feel for the deep and opposing sentiment on this issue. Paul Shaughnessy claims that homosexual i~riests are "legion" within the priesthood, that they are a problem to be solved (which will be tough, he says, because at issue is a fight between liberal and conservative Catholics), and that the solution to this problem is to reject all homosexuals who apply to the seminary2 James Martin, in sharp contrast, says that a clear and dispassionate review of the major issues raised by the presence of homosexual priests will help significandy.2 The question, he says, is not whether God is calling homosexual men to the priesthood, but why. Martin responds by analyzing the gifts that homosexual priests bring to the church: a profound compassion (arising from their personal experience with persecution, rejection, and suffering), a deep spirituality, and an artistic creativity. Any attempt to resolve these conflicting views can seem intimidating, like a journey into Frost's woods. A clear and Christopher J. Renz OP, director of formation for the Western Dominican Province, lives at St. Albert Priory Studentate Community; 5890 Birch Court; Oakland, California 94618. ' Renz ¯ Learning a Foreign Language dispassionate first step is Donald Cozzens's Changing Face of the Priesthood, and specifically chapter 7, "Considering Orientation.''3 The book's purpose is to describe the current state of the priesthood and review the issues and challenges that lie ahead. In chapter 7, Cozzens discusses the so-called "crisis of orientation" under three headings, "homosexuality and the seminary," "throughout the ages," and "the priesthood as a gay profession." He says that a delay in facing this crisis will cause great harm to the church and the priesthood. Though Cozzens's reflections specifically deal with seminarians and priests, I believe they are also relevant to religious formation communities. As director of formation in my province, I am particularly interested in exploring how this crisis affects women and men in formation programs. In this paper I will explain why I believe the religious formation community is a more helpful working model for discussing this "crisis of orientation" than Cozzens's seminary model. As his purpose is only to raise issues, Cozzens offers no in-depth look at possible causes or specific solutions to the "crisis of orientation" he sees, but, by linking it to a "disproportionate" number of homosexual men in seminary life and the priesthood, he seems to imply that this crisis is best resolved by establishing a more "proportionate" balance between homosexual and heterosexual men in the priesthood. He discusses the expanding social phenomenon of homosexual orientation and the conflicted relationship of gay and lesbian groups with the church, particularly as regards its consistent teaching on homosexuality (that homosexual women and men are to live lives of celibate chastity). Two related paradoxes arise. First, while gay and lesbian activists claim that the church denies them their sexual rights, they also note that the church has been an historical haven for homosexuals, particularly through religious life and the priesthood. Second, as a requirement common to both homosexually oriented people and to the priesthood and religious life, the church's teaching on celibate chastity has made priesthood and religious life naturally attractive for them. Cozzens does not consider a large number of homosexual men and women in the priesthood and religious life to be surprising. Cozzens's brief treatment indicates the tensions between the church and the gay and lesbian community and presents a forum for reflection and discussion. The tensions may involve doubts and Review for Religious even suspicion. Cozzens correctly notes that some gay4 networks and subcultures use the priesthood to legitimize sexual acting out. As he addresses concerns about the consequences of a priesthood seen to be a "gay profession," one is left with the impression that the real issue is whether or not homosexuals who enter religious life or the priesthood bring with them the sexual attitudes of the so-called gay subculture. More bluntly, are homosexually oriented religious or priests trustworthy as regards upholding the church's teaching on homosexuality? The implication seems to be that many will use religious life and the priesthood as "fronts" for their sexual activity. Such assumptions are harmful because they tend to dismiss the sincere and good intentions of at least some homosexual women and men. On the other side, homosexual persons who enter priesthood or religious life may have their own counterreactive suspicions. They may wonder if the church trusts them, if their religious community assumes that they will act out, if they will find support among their colleagues. Addressing these tensions is essential in order to allay such mutual distrust. Cozzens looks at two consequences of the disproportionate numbers between homosexual and heterosexual seminarians: the psychological effects and the threat to unity and integrity of the community. As a psychologist, Cozzens claims that a large number of gay men in their community brings about in straight seminarians and clergy a "chronic destabilization." This produces self-doubt, and has implications for both spiritual vitality and emotional balance. In the seminary the energy used to cope with this psychic unrest is energy diverted from study and prayer, putting heterosexual seminarians at a disadvantage. Cozzens compares this phenomenon to the stress experienced by a traveler in a country whose language is unfamiliar. Such chronic destabilization can be particularly problematic in a closed system such as a seminary because the unconscious stress can cause a loss of psychic energy, a sense of not fitting in, that may suggest to a seminarian that he is not called to the priesthood. Granting for the sake of argument all of this to be true, one is left to wonder about the psychological effects on homosexual Addressing these tensions is essential in order to allay such mutual distrust. Renz ¯ Learning a Foreign Language seminarians or religious in a predominandy heterosexual seminary or formation program. Will they not experience the same kind of psychic destabilization? Will they not feel out of sync too? And what about all the energy they use up in stabilizing themselves in the predominantly heterosexual environment? Would the simply professed who have a homosexual orientation not be tempted to leave the religious community for the same reasons? Would it matter if they did? Is it not true that the traveler will become more stabilized when committed to learning the language of that foreign country? Is this not the expectation placed upon homosexual women and men? One means to alleviate the chronic destabilization induced by the disproportionate number of homosexual seminarians might be the limiting (or elimination) of homosexual men in the seminary. Cozzens raises this possibility as important for consideration. It is clearly Shaughnessy's choice. Such an option would perhaps fall within the guidelines established by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF): "There are areas in which it is not unjust discrimination to take sexual orientation into account; for example, in the placement of children for adoption or foster care, in the employment of teachers or athletic coaches, and in military recruitment.''s This approach would provide a quick solution to a perceived problem. It seems short-sighted, however, and could be a greater threat to the stability of priesthood than that posed by the disproportion. Chronic destabilization may loom large in Cozzens's view because a seminary community is a closed system that is small in several ways. Seminary communities are transient in nature. They exist for the sake of educating men for priesthood within a few years. The focus is more on the individual than the group. Once formal education is completed, the community dissolves and is replaced by the "brotherhood of priests," a less tangible body. Religious communities, in contrast, are much more permanent. Members make lifetime commitments to the group, whose interests are given some priority over the individual's. This is not to deny that there are comparisons to be made to the "brotherhood of priests." But it is to suggest that religious communities are better places in which to understand and deal with the benefits and risks of chronic destabilization. What is learned in religious formation programs can be applied to seminary formation programs later. Review for Religious Formation in religious life is an inculturation process, a reeducation into the values of the religious community. Many wtio come to us carry with them the goals and values of the contemporary culture. Formation programs gradually confront these values and then see if they can be aligned with those of the church and the congregation or order. This process produces a sort of culture shock, a dis-ease not unlike chronic destabilization. It might be useful, therefore, to consider Cozzens's observations under this light. The issue at hand is not destabilization (which must occur), but how the formation program responds to it. Initial formation provokes successive levels of chronic destabilization. The first levels involve "externals" (times, places, schedules) and ways of socialization (inductive explanations, patterns of obedience, and so forth). Eventually, other personality values are encountered and challenged, including those dealing with psychosexual development. Being asked to replace personal values with the new ones belonging to the religious community and the church causes a psychic distress that usually lasts through the first few years of simple vows. The destabilization is indeed chronic and, left unattended, is detrimental to the formation process. Religious life brings under one roof a variety of people, including those with differing sexual orientation. Perhaps for the first time heterosexual persons will live and interact with homosexual persons. This experience will undoubtedly produce destabilization, more so for one in the minority. I view this crisis of sexual identity as part of the formation process. The psychic and spiritual unrest can be an opportunity for the individual to open up to the community's core values. It can, however, also induce a rigid shutdown. A healthy formation program, then, must examine why each person is being destabilized, that is, what values, prejudices, or expectations are being disturbed. The destabilization is then corrected through a gradual reeducation process, which includes both classroom and applied lessons. Living with people of the opposite orientation becomes an important part of this reeducation (restabilization) process. It is an opportunity to learn about someone who is different. It is also the time to establish Initial formation provokes successive levels of chronic destabilization. ffuly-August 2001 Renz ¯ Learning a Foreign Language common values and goals, including the community's choice for celibate chastity. Religious formation programs that reduce in number or remove homosexual members because they "destabilize" the community fail in their task of formation because they do no.t attend to the restabilization of the heterosexual candidates. Because their secular heterosexual values are not destabilized and in the process replaced with celibate Christian heterosexual ones (instead, the stimulus is removed), the destabilization can happen in an altogether different way, with the presence of homosexual religious. Heterosexual candidates whose formation programs do not destabilize them are ill-prepared for religious life because they are less likely to integrate the values of the community and church: celibate chastity, tolerance, charity, and so forth. Another problem with limiting or eliminating homosexual persons from the priesthood or religious life is that the developmental needs of those homosexual persons do not get addressed. A responsible formation program promotes good psychosexual development in all its candidates through things like course work, facilitated discussion, spiritual direction, and psychological counseling (where indicated). The result is greater psychological and spiritual well-being for the individuals and hence for the community. In many formation programs, sexual orientation is taken as part of a larger picture of the psychosexual composition of a candidate. Orientation is usually not, per se, the determinative factor for suitability in seminary or religious formation programs. As Timothy Radcliffe, master of the Order of Friars Preachers, notes, we human beings are "more than our sexual orientation. For none of us, heterosexual or homosexual, can find our deepest identities in our sexual orientation."7 This idea finds its origins in the CDF document "The Pastoral Care of Homosexual Persons.''s Cozzens's concern about chronic destabilization in seminary life is problematic precisely because it overemphasizes sexual orientation to the exclusion of the whole person. This overemphasis, not the number of homosexual men, becomes the real concern. The second problem Cozzens identifies with these numbers is an inevitable emergence (he thinks) of a gay subculture, dangerous because it can cause a split within the seminary community and threaten unity. Consequendy, he sees a need for "determining the kind of vocational support appropriate to the straight seminarian Revie~ for Religious living in the midst of a gay subculture.''9 Cozzens quotes Radcliffe to support his position: "It can threaten the unity of the community; it can make it harder for the brethren to practice the chastity which we have vowed. It can put pressure on brethren to think of themselves in a way that is not central to their vocation as preachers of the kingdom.''1° It is not clear what it means to have a support system that is "appropriate to the straight seminarian." One might infer that Cozzens either would develop separate support systems for homosexual and heterosexual seminarians or, in order to keep their number to a proportionate level, would limit the number of homosexual applicants. There are several problems with this analysis. First of all, Cozzens has taken Radcliffe out of context, who states just above the quoted passage: "If a brother comes to believe that he is homosexual, then it is important that he knows that he is accepted and loved as he is. He may live in terror of rejection and accusation. But ¯ this acceptance is bread for the journey as he moves to discover a deeper identity, as a child of God . So, every brother should be accepted as he is.'''1 Radcliffe assumes that homosexual subgroups would be highly divisive because he also assumes that the homosexual friar has found support and acceptance as a homosexual in the community because of the community's healthy way of life. He implies that, when homosexual friars feel supported, there is" no reason to form a subgroup and that such groups would be disruptive. Another problem with a "vocational support appropriate to the straight seminarian" is that it presupposes an irreconcilable disunity between homosexual and heterosexual seminarians. It proposes to deal with the subculture by either ignoring or removing it. The better course is to deal direcdy with the subculture by looking at its values, introducing correctives where necessary, building up the values of the church and community (especially as regards celibate chastity), and exploring the common needs of the two groups. The concern over subcultures is legitimate. The presence of a subculture often indicates poor communication, stereotyping, prejudice, and exclusion. I take issue with Cozzens's "straight only" response to the Acceptance is bread for the journey as he moves to discover a deeper identity, as a child of God. July-August 2001 Renz ¯ Learning a Foreign Language presence of a gay subculture because it short-circuits an adequate analysis of the problem and creative solutions for it. One important difference between seminarians and new members of a religious community is in types and levels of commitment. Seminarians often do not choose the place where they will study. They may not think the seminary community and their personal investment in it are essential to their formation because this community is a temporary reality. Bycontrast, those who enter religious life choose the religious community for life. Initial formation is directed towards creating a viable community, and new members are willing to invest great personal energy in this process. These personal commitments help the religious formation director deal with a subculture within the community. Creating unity in a seminary would probably be more difficult because such personal investment in the group is likely to be lacking. The commitment by Cozzens to unity within the seminary seems to be a commitment to similarity (same orientation) rather than unity, the Pauline concept of unity embracing diversity (see 1 Co 12:4-26). Such an approach might be reasonable in the absence of a deeper group commitment by the seminarians. But separate vocational support systems for heterosexual and homosexual persons would amount to sides in opposition, the gay subculture versus the straight mainstream culture. The effect, then, could be an even greater disunity, O~en discussion (under the careful guidance of formation directors) is an essential means to develop this unity in the formation community. Fear can usually be eliminated through careful education and open dialogue. But is this "unity at a price"? Despite his concern for unity, Cozzens never suggests that homosexual and heterosexual persons come together for dialogue. Why? Is this a bit too frightening? Is this the deepest darkest part of the woods; where people are either unwilling or unable to go? The evangelical counsels call religious to be witnesses. In the presence of this fear of the "crisis or orientation," religious can offer a calming influence. The Dominican friars, for example, have formally stated at the general chapter of Caleruega (1995): "The same demands of chastity apply to all brethren of whatever sexual orientation and so no one can be excluded on this ground . No sexual orientation is a priori incompatible with the call to chastity and the common fraternal life.''~2 Other religious communities have formulated similar statements. This kind of leadership can create a Review for Religious proper climate for the "clear and dispassionate review" desired by James Martin. Formation directors should show a similar leadership. Keeping in mind the common responsibility of all members to adopt church and religious community values, formation directors can encourage open discussion on this "crisis of orientation." There remains one final issue: What would it be like for heterosexual and homosexual seminarians and religious to sit down. with one another and openly discuss the fears and prejudices that they have about each other? Would anyone come out alive from the depths of that conversation? How can we prepare a place where no one gets destroyed? I would suggest that the way is, as Cozzens describes, something akin to learning a foreign language. At first the student is disoriented. Learning the new language requires courage, patience, and the willingness to sound and look foolish at times. With diligent persistence, however, the ear, mind, and tongue gradually adjust to the foreign sounds and symbols. As proficiency grows the student opens up to experience the new culture. Eventually the differences fade away and the person feels "at home." This is the goal of the good formation program. Respon-sible formation directors model patience, openness, a desire for unity, charity, and a fidelity to the home we call religious life. In this way they gently guide the destabilization-restabilization process for new members. In addition to noting that the woods were dark and deep, Frost saw them as "lovely." The dialogue on the "crisis of orientation" in the priesthood and religious life, however dark and deep, will inevitably lead us to a beautiful place. By offering their experience to the church, religious communities show forth the beauty that results when people become "of one mind and heart on the way to God" (Rule of St. Augustine). This unity is, after all, the path by which we leave the dark woods. Cozzens is correct when he notes that a delay in facing this "crisis of orientation" will cause damage to the church and the priesthood. I believe that the church will effectively face this crisis only by journeying into fear, suffering, and pain. When undertaken with a genuine intellectual curiosity informed by a gospel charity, this journey can lead to peace and healing for all. There is no Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female, gay or straight in God's kingdom-~only redeemed persons. But there are ffuly-August 2001 Renz ¯ Learning a Foreign Langnage miles to go--are there not?--before we rest peacefully in that blessed unity. Notes ~ Paul Shaughnessy, "The Gay Priest Problem," The Catholic World Report (November 2000): 52-58. 2 James Martin, "The Church and the Homosexual Priest," America (4 November 2000): 11-15. 3 Donald B. Cozzens, The Changing Face of the Priesthood: A Reflection on the Priest's Crisis of Soul (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2000). 4 There is a problem of terminology in Cozzens's work. Specifically, what is meant by "gay"? For Cozzens it refers to some homosexual men (in the seminary and the priesthood) associating with one another. One secular definition means the part of the homosexual community that is politically charged and sexually active (whose ideologies and way of life are in opposition to church teaching). One understanding is rather innocuous, the other is not. This distinction illuminates those places where education on church teaching and healthy psychosexual development are necessary. s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, "Some Considerations Concerning the Catholic Response to Legislative Proposals on the Non- Discrimination of Homosexual Persons" (1992), § 11. 6 See Gerald D. Coleman SS and Roger L. Freed MD, "Assessing Seminary Candidates," Human Development 21, no. 2, pp. 14-20. 7 Timothy Radcliffe, Sing a New Song: The Christian Vocation (Springfield, Illinois: Templegate Publishers, 1999), p. 146. s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. "The Pastoral Care of Homosexual Persons," Origins 16, no. 22, pp. 377-382, §16. 9 Cozzens, Priesthood, p. 103. ~0 Cozzens, Priesthood, p. 103. " Radcliffe, Sing a New Song, pp. 146-147. ~2 Initial Formation of tbe Friars Preachers: Recent Documents (Rome: Santa Sabina, 1999), p. 217. Review for Religious GEORGE J. AUGER Reflections of a Novice Director CNoardinal Basil Hume OSB, in his Footprints of the rthern Saints, said, "I always think that people join a religious order for one reason, and stay for the proper one." I suppose that could be said of all vocations, be they to the religious life, marriage, priesthood, the single life, or even various professions and occupations. One might say that all life is "becoming," a process of gradual growth. For Christians this means entering ever rdore deeply into the paschal mystery of the life, death, and resurrection of the Lord. What follows are simply reflections, hopefully practical, on the process of entering the religious life, that is, on the novitiate. I offer a few things I have learned as novice director through reading, reflection, experience, and of course prayer. I shall consider first the candidates coming to us and why and then what we are called to offer them. Bear in mind that, though we speak of a "formation process" for those entering religious life, a novice director does not "form" novices--they form themselves. One can do no more than God, that is, invite persons to prayerfully discern and perhaps freely choose religious life as lived by a given religious congregation and as George J. Auger CSV presently ministers as novice direc-tor for the Chicago province of the Clerics of Saint Viator. His address is 1212 East Euclid Street; Arlington Heights, Illinois 60004. 2~uly-August 2001 Auger * R~flections of a Novice Director inspired by the charism of its founder. Of paramount importance is respect and reverence for those seeking entrance into religious life. Here we are dealing with the unique mystery of people's relationship with the Lord. What is good and spiritually wholesome for novices is also good for a congregation, and this whether the persons remain or leave. As Charles de Foucauld said, "Why I left the Trappists is why I entered the Trappists." The attitude of a novice director should be first and foremost the good of the novices, even before that of the congregation. The good of the novice is the good of a congregation. Congregations are of the temporal order, individuals of the eternal. No religious congregation is simply of divine origin. For apostolic religious congregations today, it is evident that novices are far less numerous than in the past. Some congregations are disappearing just as others are being born. The history of religious congregations down through the centuries bears this out. Who Are Coming to Us and Why? Those coming to us are sons and daughters of a culture vastly unlike that of most congregational founders. True, the charism of a founder may well be alive, but the living of it is expressed differently in differing historical settings. (The congregations founded during and after the French Revolution are but one example.) Still, all have common thread running through them: they all desire to bring Christ's compassionate love to the needy and poor of their time, and this in spite of the prevailing culture of their day. They are evangelical and they are countercultural. Specific details of their lives come from the living charism of each founder. Those entering religious life today are older than formerly. Most have college degrees, something often required before entry. (Is it not strange that before Vatican Council II there were "lay" brothers and sisters, members with relatively little formal education? Most were religious in the full sense of the word, yet today few if any would be accepted into active apostolic congregations. What was perhaps done for nondiscriminatory reasons had a way of discriminating. Surely the term "lay religious" is passe, yet are there not men and women called to the religious life who do not have and do not desire the academic knowledge required by many congregations? Where do such religious vocations go?) Many of those entering our novitiates have been Review for Religious successful in their secular endeavors. Some have had a "conversion" experience. Others find themselves unfulfilled and resdess and in this hear God's call for "the more." These are women and men full of enthusiasm and idealism, searchers seeking fulfillment and happiness in giving of themselves for the good of others. Generosity is not lacking. They are not looking for an easy bourgeois lifestyle. They are looking for challenges, unafraid of the unknown and willing to take risks for the sake of God's reign. It is a mistake to sell them short. It has been my limited experience that those entering our communities are children of the computer and television age. Some have read relatively little and are unaccustomed to sit still with a book. They have learned to live in an individualistic and "consumer" society, as have many of us seasoned religious as well. Silence, solitude, disciplined regularity, a simple lifestyle, faith sharing, an openness to the divine presence, and prayer are, for some, unfamiliar even though these things are essential avenues of spiritual growth. For some the primary motivation in seeking entrance into religious congregations is external. They see religious life primarily in terms of ministry or what they feel called to do (ministry to youth or to the poor and neglected, teaching, parochial ministry, and so forth). But these same persons often lack a theological foundation, both dogmatically and ascetically. The spiritual life is foreign territory to them. For them religious life is not a mystery of intimacy, but a means to the end of ministry. The contemplative dimension of religious life is seen only vaguely. Others seek religious life after having had an "experience of God." These are attracted to the person of Jesus and see religious life as a way to deepen their intimacy with the Lord of their lives, yet this intimacy is with a resurrected Lord and neglects the cross. All seems "sweetness and light," They forget that God's desire and theirs will only connect on Calvary. With Paul they must learn "to glory in the cross of Christ." The human existential experiences of those joining our ranks is far different from those of the past. For the most part, those entering before Vatican 17, and they were numerous, led a sheltered For some the primary motivation in seeking entrance into religious congregations is external. July-~lug71st 2001 Auger ¯ Reflections o~a Novice Director life supported by a regime that somehow guaranteed, in the end, some kind of fulfillment. They were inspired by men and women who lived the religious life of their day to the full and radiated the secret of a life rooted in Christ. In formation, when things became difficult, there was always the support of brother or sister novices. Life was lived in terms of a goal, and that goal was often seen in terms of a life following the years of formation. Certainly one indirect but real incentive was the respect and even reverence with which religious life was held by the Catholic community at large; added to this was a subde desire for recognition or advancement on the social scale. A religious was somehow a "special" person, respected and sometimes even revered. How things have changed! Gone are the years when our novitiates were filled. Gone is the ministerial certainty of those in charge of formation. Gone is the high esteem religious life was once given. Gone are those ministries once held to be for all time. Today it is difficult to speak of a novitiate community with only one or two novices! It is not uncommon for congregations to experience one or several "noviceless" years. Of course, there are many reasons for this, some mentioned above; yet this is no cause for discouragement. Many of the ministries once undertaken by religious are now taken by laypersons, some of whom are now called associate members of a congregation, enthusiastically embracing the vision of its founder. The Holy Spirit is present and guiding us, offering us the grace to read the "signs of the times." One must not forget nor disparage the past; rather, one must build on a past marked by generosity, sacrifice, and a willingness to give one's all for the sake of God's reign. This element in religious life has not changed, nor will it in years to come. I believe that those entering our ranks are sold on our mission. This is usually the most attractive element presented by vocation directors, and this is good. There is, however, a difficulty. Our mission is frequendy in a transitional stage. It is seldom limited to one specific mission, though there remain congregations with only one, such as nursing or caring for the aged. For congregations that once taught in primary and secondary schools, teaching is no longer exclusively a matter of schools. Parochial ministry, social services, and chaplaincies are now rightly seen as having a teaching dimension. Religious women and men consider all sorts of ministries as teaching, often resulting in small local communities and even one-person assignments. This can and does create a Review for Religious problem, for those entering our ranks seek community. They seek a community where men and women share a vision and are willing to sacrifice for it. The problem is that all too often apostolic congregations voice their common vision in such abstract and general terms that, in the end, these mission statements say and mean very little. The focus of such congregations is blurred or nebulous, and so those entering them may find themselves confused and uncertain regarding both identit3) and mission. It is well and good to say that our mission is to advance God's reign, but must one enter religious life to advance the reign of God? There has to be something more. In such instances the deep mystery of religious life is obfuscated. The purpose, I believe, of the novitiate experience is to clarify the meaning of religious life, a life devoted to a mission, yes, but at the same time rooted in and nourished by a personal relationship with the Lord. In reality and in the practical order, one's mission and identity as a religious are one: "I am my mission." The attractiveness and appeal of religious life comes from religious afire with the love of God and impelled irresistibly to love and help others (Col 1:28-29). Mission is rooted in one's intimate and personal relationship with the Lord. What Are We Called to Offer Them? There is an advantage to the paucity of novices today. We are now able to minister to one by one, getting to know them in depth and letting them get to know us as we live the mystery of our religious life. The novitiate is a time for internalization, of interiority: knowing and experiencing a deeper relationship with the Lord. It is a time to nourish the seed of divine love within them, to foster the contemplative in them, inviting them to experience God's presence and abiding love. To paraphrase an early father of the church, the measure of our love of God will always be commensurate to our conviction of God's love for us. "You have not chosen me, I have chosen you" (In 15:16). Mission is important, yet it is not primary in the novitiate experience. The external and all-too-human excitement and enthusiasm for what novices will do at some future time must somehow b

Issue 57.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1998. ; Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all wbo find ~bat the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives~ Tge articles in the journal are meant to be inforntative, practical, bistorical, or inspirational, written front a tbeological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-mouthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone:314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOI~PI~MA@SLU.I~I)U Manuscripts, hooks for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious - P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for informatiou on subscription rates. ~1998 Review for Religions Permission is herewith gra,ated to cop}, any ,naterial (articles, poe,ns, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the li,nits outlined in Sectious 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this per,nission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for relig i ous Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial S~aff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. FischEr SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth.McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm J~an Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bis.hop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR ' Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living NOVEMBER-DECEMBER 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 6 contents 566 578 religious vocations Common Threads: Are We Weaving or Unraveling? Catherine Bertrand SSN~D surveys the terrain of apostolic religious life regarding attitudes and concerns about future membership. The Decline in Religious Vocations: ¯ A Weberian Perspective Shanti P~beyasingha cssR looks at effects of the "routinizing" of a foundational charism and then peers beyond them with a hope that embraces new risks in changed circumstances. 588 595 ,life in the spirit Spirithil Maturity John Blake More reflects on some of the qUalities of a spiritually mature person. A "Spiritual Turn" for Catholic Moral Theology Dennis J. Billy CSSR explores some of the ways in which a deeper understanding of the relationship between spirit and reason has =oncrete implications for the_future of moral theology. consecr.ated life 605 ~ Consecrated Life: Anointed with Joy Regis J. Armstrong OFMCap presents.ways of understanding joy and its intrinsic relationship to consecrated life. Review for Religious 622 The Future of Authority in the Religious Community John Carroll Futrell SJ describes what authority needs today as it exercises its ministry of making an apostolic community of love. spiritual limitations 628 Ground of Grace Marie Beha OSC uses the parable of ~he seed in looking at the limits we bring to the transforming action of grace. 640 Guigo I 'on Avoiding Suffering Kenneth C. Russell offers us some of the homely wisdom of an early Carthusian regarding the ensemble of this world and the ,next. departments 564 Prisms 650 Canonical Counsel: The Evangelical Counsel of Obedience: ConcreteExpression and Practical Consequences 656 Book Reviews 666 Indexes to Volume 57 November-Deconber 1998 prisms T imagery of the Holy Spirit as an iconographer"holds an age-old place in the tradition of the Eastern churches. The Hol~ Spirit is painting us in the image and likeness of Goff~ But, of course, we acknowledge Jesus Christ as THE image of the invisible God (Col 1:15). Consequently, in working with us as a painter does with an icon, the Holy Spirit continues throughout our life to bring out in us another face of Jesus, As we enter the Advent preparation for Christmas, this way of understanding our relationship to the S'pirit seems especially appropriate. The Holy Spirit is always laboring to bring to birth within us a fuller identity with Jesus. Our life can be understood as an Advent season in which we are being prepared over the span of our earthly life for the reality of our life-with-God 'forever in Christ. At the same time, from our meditation upon the Gospels and from our following in Christ's footsLeps, our daily life can be seen as one spent living in imitation of the hidden and public life of Jesus. With every stroke of his painter's brush, the Spirit inspires, encourages, and strengthens us to live "like Jesus," to live as Christ-ians. For the Spirit, according to Jesus' promise, is the one who "remains" with us, the one who will "be within" us (Jn 14:17). From the Gospel of St: John, we learn that the Holy Spirit is a gift to us--Jesus' "gift to us of "another Paraclete" (that is, one who functions just like Jesus him-self, who is our first Paraclete) or, perhaps stated with more theological precision, a gift from the "us" of Father and Son. Fumblingly struggling to say something about Review for Religious the identity and life of our triune God, our theological tradition at times expresses it in this way: The Father gives himself over fully to the Son, and the Son gives himself over fully to the Father, and the fullness of the Love shared between them is a Gift-Person, a Love-Person. As a result, our Trinitarian God is caught up in a life of relationship, of total giving, of total sharing--a God who is Love, a God who is all Gift. The Spirit, whose very relational identity within the Trinity is Gift and Love, plays this same role in God's outreach to cre-ation- for example, the imagery of the brooding of Spirit over the waters of creation and the Spirit's overshadowing of Mary in the' an~aunciation scene. From revelation and from our experi-ence, we know that God relates to us through all of creation as "gifts"--gifts that are meant to help us to know, to love, and to serve God by our proper appreciation and use of these gifts. God relates to us through Jesus as gift of identity with us as human. jesus is called the new Adam because we human beings in the Jesus-Gift have .become truly new and original. God relates to us in baptism, confirmation, and all the sacraments and sacramentals of our Christian life in the gift of the one we~call the Holy Spirit. The process of our growing in grace or~ as the Eastern churches say it more daringly, the process of our divinization continues as God's Spirit-Gift stays with us. We CFiristians, made newly human in Christ, have come to understand God in a new and original way: a triune God, a Gift-God, a God of Love. At Christmas, then, we see again, with eyes of faith, God's gift of identity with us through Jesus. Year after year, all the won-der of this gift seen and remembered as a baby fills the heights and depths of our soul. But, in this year dedicated to the Spirit, we recall anew, especially in this Christmas season, how much the Holy Spirit--God-Gi~---keeps giving us the way to be Christ for our times. We pray to the Spirit to bring forth more fully in us the icon of Jesus each of us is created to be--~.made in the image and likeness of God. David L. Fleming SJ That the Spirit paint his icon more fully across the fabric of your life is the Chris~as wish fro,. all of us on the staff of Review for Religious. .November-Dece~ltber 1998 religious vocations CATHERINE BERTRAND Common Threads: -,Are We Weaving or Unraveling? In the last year, as I have traveled nationally and interna-tionally, tit has become clear that certain "threads" are shared, by a considerable number of congregations of women and men religious, especially those that describe themselves as active or apostolic. This article, examining some of these "threads," asking some questions, and offer-ing some answers, is not the last word. There are no sweeping statements to capture the experience of every religious. Rather, I hope to generate further discussion among congregational members as they together examine their own reality and explore what their own future might look like. Many active or apostolic congregations were founded one or two hundred years ago in .,response to particular ministerial needs in various parts of the world. The found, ing purpose often had'more to do with ministry than with a particular spirituality or rule. These congregations, with some help from Vatican Council II, are struggling with the articulation of their charisms and the interpretation of their founding purpose in light of today's church and world. This has often caused the various congregations to remark more' similarities than differences among them- Catherine Bertrand SSND is executive director of the National Religious Vocation Conference (5420 South Cornell Avenue, Suite 105; Chicago, Illinois 60615). Her article was first pub-lished in its quarterly journal, Horizon. Review for Religious" selves, Given this observation, what are some of the common threads evident in these congregations as they look toward, the future? Deepest Longings , Sociologists have noted that the two unmet desires of our age, the deepest longings expressed to~tay by peopl~ of all ages, are for.spirituality and for a sense of belonging. Vocation ministers in both. women's 'and men's congregations can validate these find-ings in their work with potential candidates. Consistently those considering religious life express their reasons as having to do ,with a longing for God and a desire for community life. Meanwhile, longtime members of these congregations seem to be asking themselves whether this in fact 4s .what religious are about, or what their life has to offer today. A thread common to English-spea.king countries worldwide is discussion of the need to take another look at quality community life. Some religious will contend that it is yet to be discovered what that means for active/apostolic congregations whose very foundation and history were overshadowed and strongly influ-enced by monastic rules and traditions. Be that as it may, not only are new members and potential candidates asking for quality com-mon life, but longtime members as well are saying they need to take another look at this. My guess would be that there are as many ideas of what community life could look like as there are people discussing it. There is no going back to what was, although some members ~ would desire that: Others, who have experienced community life in the past as uniformity and sameness, fear that this could become the case again. Some feel that"the struggle to be in a ministry that Is satisfying and in a living situation that does not take every ounce of energy has been long in coming: "Leave it alone!" Others, especially those who entered after Vatican 11,,came because of the common life and shared ministry, and continue to seek ways to have that happen. Some believe community can happen only under one roof. Others believe that such a configuration of community has nothing to do with the direction for the future. Some question~the value of vowed membership, while the expe-rience of others tells them that only when there is clarity about vowed membership does any other way of associating make sense. November-Decentber 1998 Bertrand ¯ Common Threads Although some oflthese concerns differ.in various communities, and may take on different nuances in men's and women's con-gregations, the common threads, the similar questions, are there. Fundamental Changes and Different Realities Over recent years, some definite realities in religious life have given community.life a whole new look. The following paragraphs attempt to describe some of those changes. Space, or how space is regarded, has changed how ~relikious live in community. Many local communities ofwomen'~ congre-gations suffer from limited living space. For a variety of reasons, including some very healthy ones, there.has been a move to smaller living spaces, with fewer people. Unfortunately, religious often end: 'up--mostly for economic reasons--in crowded places with little common space beyond their own bedrooms. There is no room for guest, s, potential new members, or even one's own community members. There is no space, for common prayer, and no room to welc0m~e groups of guests. Religious congregations are not family; they al:e communities of adults; for whom the family model is not helpful. To live simply does not necessarily mean that there can be .no space. Although men's communities may have more space, rJaey seem to be challenged to look at how eas-ily the members can become independent, developing a board-ing- house mentality. Governance, too, has changed how religious live together. Many local commtinities have been trying a more circular model of leadership wherein various responsibilities of leadership are shared. Men's communities seem to 'be less dialogic, to function more expeditiously. No form of governance, however, seems to go without challenge, and no one model is ideal. , Age has also made a difference in how religious live together and ~relate to each other. There are more older members, and fewer new ones. The tendency to settle in bectmes stronger unless deliberate efforts fire made to retain vitality, ' which has little to do with.,age. New members help a community to keep growing and changing. Difference in community size calls for different skills. The abil-ity to b~ self-discl6sing is critical. Where it may once have been considered the. greatest of virtues to be silent, now it is crucial in community to be able to articulate one's thoughts and feelings in Review for Religious an appropriate manner. The smaller the group, the more essen-tial to have healthy members who are able to enter into this kind of sharing. Professionalism and ministry demands certainly affect community life today. Because urgent needs demand responses and because mission is the ov~rriding concern for many religious congrega-tions, this is where most time and energy are spent. The nature of ministry, especially with many women religious now in parish settings, places new demands on quality time in community. Self-Definition Countless efforts among religious focus on the identity and image of religious today: who religious are and what they are about. It appears that often religious define themselves by the work(s) they do. They seem to fall sho~rt when it comes to know-ing how to share some of the other elements of their lives that grow out of the communal dimension: Is' there clarity about those essential elements? Are the spiritual and communal elements of their lives seen as having the power to attract others, not just to new vowed membership, :but also to the varibus ways people can be in part-nership with religious 4ongregations? To religious who are concerned that potential candidates seem to focus only on God and com-munity and have little Or no sense of mission, I offer this thread. From interviewing and assessing candidates for priesthood and religious life, I have found, that among them service is a given. They deeply desire to be of service~ They may not always understand how to direct that generosity within a particular congregation, but what draws them to religious life is a unique context in which to offer service. Most candidates come assuming that Jesus, the Eucharist, and a link to the universal church are foundational to religious lif~. The community they seek is not a warm nest or surrogate family, but a group that will help them serve in a way that they could'not do alone. New members ,help a community to keep growing and changing, What Attracts Young Adults When two hundred young' adults from all over the United November-December 1998 Bertrand ¯ Common Threads States joined more than five hundred vocation directors at the 1996 National Convocation of religious vocation ministers, they spoke to the questions of what was attractive and unattractive . about religious life today. On their application forms they were asked to describe any of their .current involvements in volunteer work, paid ministry, civic activities, and so~forth.Their responses were both amazing and impressive. The candidates that religious congregations would hope to attract are already engaged in ser-vice. They told us that ministry alone will not draw people to religious life. They come because of the community context in which the ministry is situated. They also see community life as happening under one roof. Many times they have no clear idea of w~hat they are asking for When they speaLof their desire for com, munity, but they clearly do not envision it as a "let's get together now and then" experience. Another thread I see in numerous congregations is the sincere desire of many religious to respond to that desire expressed by young people. Most congregations want to have a future and therefore are serious about attracting new members. A thread that is becoming more common in many congregations is being spun in conversations about being local communities of hospi-tality. Much as congregations would like it, this phrase does not describe every local community. Newer members are~well aware of struggles to find suitable, community situations to live in, Longtime members, too, know all too well thee feeling of panic when it comes to finding a local community upon Changing min-istry locations. Some congregations are creatively encouraging some of~their most "life-giving" members to consider housing situations that would allow for an extra room so that communities of hospitality become realities. These delibera~te efforts by some are invitations to all congregational members to take seriously the responsibil- -ity for hospitality. Community as Ministry Religious take seriously their commitment to ministry. Who can argue with that? But is mission understood as being synony-mous with the work they do? I 15elieve that one of the strongest sections of Vita consecrata deals with this very question. It states that community life plays a fundamental role in the spiritual jour- Review for Religious ney of religious, both for their constant renewal and for the full accomplishment of their mission In the world: [The church] wishes to hold up before the world the exam-ple of communities in which solitude is overcome through concern for one another, in which communication inspires in everyone a sense of shared responsibility, and in which wounds are healed throu~gh forgiveness and each person's commitment'to communion is strengthened. The life of communion in fact "becomes a sign for all the world and a compelling force that leads people to faith in Christ . in this way communion leads to mission and itself becomes mission"; indeed, "communion begets communion: In' essen~.~e it is a communion that is missionary." (§§45-46) Do religious believe that community life itself is key to the mission and their ministries? For active/apostolic congregations it seems to be an ongoing struggle. How do congregations arid individuals integrate or balance that healthy or not-so-healthy tension between ministry and community life? Have religious come to define active/apostolic religious life only by works, and often very individualized ministries at that? In many ministry situations there may b~ only one person of a particular congregation on the scene. A developing scenario seems to be that it is in ministry that one receives the greatest affirmation and.the deepest satisfaction, that one's affective needs are met, and that the most creative energy arises. This poses a sharp contrast to the less than life,giving local community situa-tion that religious often describe. Another dimension in this sce-nario is that today religious~ have less knowledge about or understanding of each other's ministries and therefore have fewer opportunities, to be supportive and affirming, ~ ~" : Another thread deserving further consideration is the amount of time and energy given to ministry. I have heard younger, newly professed religious comment that they came from homes where they were aware that everything, including family, always came second to their parents' dareers. They are often surprised to find that in religious life they have that same sense. They seem to respond in one of two ways. Either they quickly fal.1 into the work mode, or they choose to leave. On one occasion a speaker address-ing an audience of religious suggested that, if a congregation is serious about new membership, it may need to reevaluate its min-isterial commitments. Even to think about it brought an audible gasp from the audience. November-December 1998 Bertrand ~ Common Threads Often religious try to accomplish with fewer people what was once done by many more people. No doubt women and men reli-gious are responding to urgent needs in our church and world in creative and heroic ways. Many times, it seems, the very people who top the list as wonderful community members are also the most overextended in ministry. Where is the balance in all of this? What choices are congregations making in addressing these challenges, not just f~or the sake of new members, but for the sake of present membership? . . Some congregations are responding by honestly saying to each other and to others that they prefer to go onliving and working just as they are. Other congregations see a need for some changes. I have attempted to name some of the common reali-ties in religious life that have had an impact on community life. These include models of governance, ways of praying,' living space, aging members, and ministry demands. I would contend that, to the extent that realities in religious life have changed, religious are. invited to develop new skills for living contemporary religious life, giving new shape to religious community life. Skills Needed What are some of the skills to be considered?~ The following list is neither definitive nor exhaustive, but I offer it as a help toward further consideration and dialogue: ' ¯ The need for self-disclosure heads the list, in part because this element of religious life has changed radically in recent years. The change affects not only how one,share~ in dialogue, but also how one participates in prayer with one or more persons. There is an increased need both for sharing and for keeping a healthy sense of boundaries. . ¯ Skills for other-centeredness are key. It is no small challenge to be able to enter into the reality of another, to be generous, to listen. It means taking time for people and situations in commu-nity that may not always be one's first choice of how to use time and energy. It may mean not allowing ministry demands to always come first. ¯ Hospitality As an "in" word these days, but in some situa~- tions it may be as basic as developing social and conversational skills that make life better as occasions arise for religious to invite others into their homes and into their lives. This is particularly key Review for Religious in attracting new members. People cannot choose or ~upport what they do not know, unders(and, or experience. ¯ Skills for healthy sexuality and intimacy are critical elements in the life of any person, and these impact,community life. They affect the way individual religious express who they are, how "at home" they might be as loving, intimate, sexual human beings. They assist religious in having .a sense of self that can support o~hers in their celibate choice and can help still others under-stand celibacy as a viable option. A healthy sexuality includes developing friendsl~ips within and outside community life. It also involves doing whatever is necessary to be a physically and psy-chologically healthy person, someone with whom others would like to share community. ¯ A healthy spirituality is another key element in quality com-munity life, having both a communal and individual dimension. It means looking for ways to be supportive of the spiritual life of others in community, participating in the liturgical life of the church, and expressing the shared spirituality of a particular con-gregation. It also means finding ways to participate in the ongo-ing revelation of God through individuals and in community. ¯ Skills for shared living involve negotiating living space, being attentive to the little .things that can make or break community liv-ing, These skills make it possible for religious to choose to live with one or more fellow religious when it would be easier to live alone, or they may suggest ways of creatively sharing life with others if particular circumstances' demand living alone for a time. They help one to be open to sharing life with a variety of people, in a variety of ways, ways that are life-giving, not death-dealing. ¯ To be attentive to ongoing learning and enrichment demands that one strive to be updated about religious life, spirituality, the, ology, and so forth, in: addition to fulfilling~"professional" demands for ongoing education. It also means being attentive to one's development as an "interesting" person who can contribute.to community discussions and learning. It means taking time for enrichment, alone and with others. ¯ Friendship in community also involves skills, though no one can make friendship happen. One must look for ways to come to know the people .with whom one shares life, and must do whatever one can to create a community to.which people want to come home. Friendship skills include being able ~nd willing to cele-brate people .and events 4n the company of others. November-December 1998 Bertrand ¯ Common Threads ¯ Leadership ski'lls need to be nurtured in every community member even though such skills will be expressed in many dif-ferent ways on a variety of levels. These skills include taking indi-vidual responsibility within a community of adults, having a voice and being honest and up-front in using that voice for the good of the whole, getting involved in the workings of the congregation ~3n the local level and beyond, and keeping actively in touch with congregational leaders. ¯ Conflict-management skills invite the convictitn that each person is worth the time it~takes to live together well. They involve being honest as well as kind with feedback, being account-able for any effort or lack of effort at being a positive presence in a community. Conflict management calls for a healthy sense of self that allows one to deal with issues, not destroy persons. These are some skills that seem key to living contemporary community life. Some Other Threads .There continue to be questions. Are religious setting them-selves up for failure,and disappointment in taking another look at quality community life, another look at that particular thread? Is this a challenge beyond them? No one can make 'a significant responge alone, not the. congregational leader or any individual member, not a new member or potential candidate, not the voca-tion director. A significant response requires the efforts of as man, y as possible--many interwoven threads. There are people among us who lack either the desire, the aptitude, or both for living community life in this day and age. There are ministerial situations that demand different ways of being community. But in many congregations a substantial group of peo-ple have both the desire and the aptitude to make co.mmunity life work, even under one roof. Community life takes time and energy. There 'is no way around that, even in the best-case scenarios. If congregations want the future to be different, some radical decisions must be made in the present-'if not always big deci-sions, then some smaller ones that are no less radical: These are the ones that touch the day-to-day living of the entire community. How willing am I to be "inconvenienced" for the sake of our future, ~for the sake of not just new members, but also present members? This question is screaming for anoanswer.from indi=' Review for Religious vidual religious and from congregations. The answer may mean reclaiming community as ministry, community as mission. The final thread I will touch upon is perhaps stating the obvi-ous. Vocation ministers, who are some of the most hopeful peo-ple around, indidate time and again that in their work the greatest challenge 4s their own congregational members' lack of aware-ness and response. They do not assume ill will, for they see that people are very busy, involved in many things. How, then, are communitymembers to be made more alert to ways of promot-ing vocations? Congregational leaders are critical players 'in these efforts, b~t congregational members are no less important. Do we pas-sionately desire another generation of religious for the sake of God's people? Are we willing to invite new generations to consider religious life as a viable option, or by our silence have we made the decision for them? The responses to these questions cannot be postponed, to be considered at some other time, Our only time is ,' Questions for Individuals and Communities Something to do now is raise some of the ,following questions in the privacy of your o~n mind and heart--but also to raise them in discussion with other religious in your own congregation, in your own local community, or in any number of other settings.,~ Skills for Self-disclosure What in your life indicates that you have a sense of legitimate boundaries, your own and those of others? What enables .you to express your thoughts and feelings in dialogue and in faith shar-ing? How do you nurture mental and emotional health that allows you to be self-disclosing? How do yob develop healthy self-esteem, self-confidence that allows you to share yourself with others? What gives you the sense that others enjoy being with you? Skills for Other-cehteredness How do you balance self-maintenance with generous pres-ence and service? What gets most attention and energy in your local community? How do you foster local' community life that reaches beyond itself?. What enables you to enter into the re~ility of another? How do you present religious life as a viable option Noventber-Decentber 1998 Bertrand ¯ Common Threads for someone else? How do you share ministry with each other, even if you are in different settings? What sharpens your ability to be a good listener? Skills four Hospitality What do you do to develop social and conversational skills? How are you willing to be inconvenienced for the sake of wel-coming others? What do you do to encourage, potential new mem-bers and to invite them, and others as well, into yo~ur life and into your home? How do you cope with diversit'v? What prevents you at times from being hospitable and welcoming? Skills/:or Healthy Sexuality and lntimaey How would someone, describe your outlook on life? What helps you .to be happy and hopeful? How do you express that sense? How do. you express your celibate choice? How do you describe it? How are you generative in your celibate choice?. What steps do you take to develop and sustain healthy friendships? How does the way you live speak to health and wholeness? Skills for a Healthy Spirituality How :are you faithful to personal and communal'prayer? What other elements of your life indicate a seritusness about your rela-tionship with God? How do you participate in the liturgical life of the church? How does your prayer life reflect the .spirituality of your congregation? How does your spiritual life reflect and support a concern for others? ~ Skills for Shared Living How does the shared living space where you live facilitate quality community life? When are you~generous or territorial in your useof common space and, goods? How are you attentive to the "litde things" that can cause friction or tranquillity in a shared living space? How willing, are you to negotiate, and sometimes settle for conditions that are not to your liking? The persons you live with--what keeps your expectations of them realistic? Skills fo, r Ongoing Learning and Enrichment ~ What steps do you take to keep updated regarding religious-life trends, spirituality, theology? How do you make time for cur-rent reading, awareness of world issues, which can be shared in Review for Religious community? What do you do for enrichment and leisure, indi-vidually and as a local community? What are some of the best ways to "waste time" together? Skills for Friendship in Community What helps you to come to know and appreciate the people with whom you share community life? How do you reflect an openness to potential friendship in community without demand-ing it? What about you would give other people a desire to live in community with you? What about local community makes it a situation to which you want to come home? How do you make choices for quality community time in the face of ministerial demands? How do you celebrate people and events in your local community? How do you share your family and friends with your congregation? How do you give yourself and others a sense of freedom in community relationships? Skills for Leadership What is the role and understanding of leadership in your local community? How do you participate in those responsibilities? What is your expectation of those in congregational leadership in relating to local communities? In what ways do you take ini-tiative in your local community? Sk(lls for Conflict Management , What helps you to be honest and up-front in dealing with conflict in community? How do you give helpful feedback to peers, and how, do you receive it from them? To whom do you hold yourself accountable for trying to live quality community life? For you, what elements of local community can become sources of conflict? What are the most effective ways for you to resolve conflict in your local community? Are you, are we, weaving or unraveling? November-December 1998 SHANTI ABEYASINGHA The Decline in Religious Vocations: : ,A Weberian Perspective y-783 _ religious life, that many who join religious congregations give up halfway, and that some leave even after final profession are things that merit inquiry. For many a religious congregation, vocation questions and vocation promotion are top priorities. A superior of a women's religious congregation told me that she and the sis-ters were trying desperately to get young girls to join because comphter statistics had shown that the congregation would die out if a hundred or more new persons did not come in every year. Deaths each year were outnumbering the entrants, and, accord= ingly, aging.itself had become a more serious~problem too. There are instances where some congregations in the West have come to Asia, Africa, and Latin America (places with more .vocations) in search of candidates. The phenomenon of men;'and women religious coming from the West to work as missionaries also seems to be a thing of the past. In fact, the reverse process seems to be taking place. Religious congregations with branches in Asia, Africa, and Latin America are asking them to come up with volunteers for missionary work in other lands. These instances and others would seem to indicate that religious life is in disarray. Shanti Abeyasingha CSSR has held administrative positions in his order, has done socioeconomic development work in Sri Lanka, and has con-ducted retreats and missions in Sri Lanka, India, and Malaysia. His address is: Redemptorists, Santa Maria; George E. de Silva Mawatha; Kandy, 20000; Sri Lanka. Review for Religious The interesting thing, however, is that the problem of a lack of vocations, which many modern-day religious congregations are facing, was seldom an issue for the founders and foundresses ofireligious congregations~ They do not stem to have had diffi-culty getting people to join their ranks. As their histories often tell us, .people were attracted to the particular work they started and to their commitment and deilication. Many a °person was ready to give up everything and join them. God's Fidelity and Religious Congregations' Continued Existence The Bible speaks again and again about the faithfulness of God. Evenothough we humans are unfaithful, God is shown as the one who is ever faithful to his pr~mises. Along with his faith-fulness, his caring love is always there, ever ready to come to our aid. This' love is brought out clearly in the Exodus experience. The words "I have seen the affliction of my people who are in Egypt, and have heard their cry 'because of their taskmasters; I know their suffering, and I have comedown to deliver them" (Ex 3:7- 8) expresses it all. vWhen God makes his covenant with the Israelites at Mount Sinai, the people experience and~ understand their God precisely as one who always intervenes on their behalf to alleviate suffering and oppressiom All through human history we encounter human suffering and misery. These are vestiges df sin and .are manifest in the self-ishness of persons who do not care 'for their brothers and sisters. God continues to care for these unfortunate persons all through history. He continues to prove his faithfulness .and concern by raising up women and men who dedicate their lives in the ser-vice of people whom others oppress or ignore and even history forgets. These charismatic personalities emerge especially in moments of, crisis and,decadeffce in society. They, like Moses, are inspired to do God's bidding on behalf of his people. They are in line'with ~the prophets, who denounced oppression while at the same time announcing to the people the good news of liberation and deliverance. In the line of the prophets, these founders of congregations interpreted the signs of the times and responded vigorously. They highlighted something ~hat answered a need in society. They manifested through their actions the faith~lness andthe ¯ November-DecembD" 1998 L -79 Abeyasingba * The Decline in Religious Vocations caring presence of God as he continues to come down and deliver his people from their bondage. Here we have the actual reason for the beginning and the continued exi~stence of religious congre-gations, namely, t~o be extensions of God's presence in the world. The "Routinization" of a charism Max Weber has something to say about such charismatic lead-ers. He says that charismatic leaders are creative and do things that are not in line with the normal run of things in society. He is quick to add, however, that such charismatic leaders do not last. They are a passing phenomenon in society. They appear at cer-tain times in history to answer particular needs of the time. In the course of time, especially after the death of the charismatic leader, his or her original insight becomes traditi~nalized or ratio-nalized or both.~ Weber adds: "It is only in the initial stages, and so long as the charismatic leader acts in a way which is completely outside every day social organization, that it is possible for his followers to live communistically in a community of faith and enthusiasm.''2 Thus, according to Weber, it is only a question of time before the initial charism of the leader becomes "routinized.''3 Usually this takes place after his or her death. In this transformation into a permanent routine structure, one of the first things altered is the anti-economic character of the original charisma.4The followers pursue security and economic stability (as part of security) to. make up for the absence of the founder. Everyday needs and the ordi-nary details of administration necessitate such an adaptation. This process took place even in the church after the death of the Lord Jesus Christ. With routinization comes an attempt to preserve the leader's thought and way of life. Normally this takes the form of pre-serving his or her letters, instructions,- documents, and sayings, along with eyewitness reports, accounts from the~first companions, and so on. Guidelines are set for the training of future followers. These are usually spelled out in documents such as rules, consti-tutions, and statutes, which are updated from time to time by general chapters and by special commissions appointed by them. The result is a system of organization different from that which existed during the time of the charismatic leader. During the leader's lifetime, the way of making decisions, the way of act- Review for Religious ing, and in short the whole way the group functioned could be said to have been somewhat arbitrary and unpredictable. There was no formal or well-defined way of doing a particular thing. The leader's personality was the key factor, and it overshadowed what-ever structures and procedures were already in place, regarding the community and its mission. Max Weber says that "the routinization of charisma also takes the form of the appropriation of powers of control and of eco-nomic advantages by the followers,or disciples and of regulation of the recruitment of these groups.''5 In other words, the rou-tinization process in a congregation includes the manner and the basis of choosing leaders, the training or tests of eligibility of the new recruits, the way of governing the members, their rights and duties, and so on.6 Also, it is very much akin to the adaptation that constantly takes place in economic life--for the economy is on~ of the principal and continually operating forces in everyday life. In the whole question of routinization, the economic condi-tions play a leading role'and do not constitute merely a dependent variable.7 Bureaucratic Org.anization and Religious Life From the foregoing it will be clear that accompanying the whole process of the routinization of a charism is the attempt to coordinate activities. Weber calls this the process of rationaliza-tion or the process of bureaucratic organizatipn. He goes on to say that this is a distinctive mark of the modern era. Bureaucracy has shaped modern politics, the modern economy, modern technol'- ogy, and modern church life and religious life too. Max Weber considered the bureaucratic organization to be technically supe-rior to all other forms of administration. He says' also that only through this device, namely bureaucracy, has large-scale planning of the modern state and the modern economy become possible,s The main characteristics of a bureaucratic organization are: ¯ It is organized according to rational principles: rules, con-stitutions, and statutes. (This is something that developed in religious congregations.) ¯ The offices are ranked in a hierarchical order. (Religious congregations, too, have a hierarchical order, that is, gen-eral, his or her consulto~rs, the different secretariats, provin-cials, vice-provincials, and so on.) Novetttber-December 1998 Abeyasingba * The Decline in Religious Vocations Efficiency has hhd the effect of making religious congregations inefficient in answering the changed needs of the times. ¯ The operations (of offices) are characterized by imper-sonal rules. (The various offices in religi~ous congregations, too, have clearly defiiaed procedures.) ¯ The members are governed by methodical allocation of areas of jurisdiction.(Today the members of religious con-gregations fire allocdted 'into provinces, vice-provinces, regions, and so on.) ¯ Appointments to offices are generally made according to specialized qualifications. Those who can fit into the bureaucratic administrative set-up are the ones who are normally considered for s~h offices. Just as bureaucracy has its advantages, it also has its draw-backs. Its very strengths are also its weaknesses. Because of its rationalized organization, bureaucracy sometimes becomes unwieldy and even stultifying in dealing with individual cases. Modern rationalized and bureaucratized systems find themselves incapable of dealing with particularities. In other words, the individual's initiative and creativity are submerged under a deluge of reasons that are derived mechanically from the 0 code of behavior.~° Depersonalization is another result of bureaucratization. The organization seems to take precedence over the personhood of the individual." In the last analysis, although bureaucratization and rationalization may have increased the efficiency of the o.r, ga: nization, this very efficiency threatefis to dehumanize its ere-ators. 12 In such a setup, 0there is little room for charismatic personalities to emerge. , From what has been said, one sees the implications of bureau-cratization for the functioning~of religious life. While on the one hand it has organized and systematized administration, on the other hand it has stifled some new initiatives and new thinking. Persons who propose changes in hitherto :accepted ways of doing things could very well find themselves isolated or labeled rebel-lious or considered excrescences that need to be removed because they are a hindrance to the smooth running of the ihstitute. Worse still would be the sad refility of some finding themselves outside the institute because their ideas do not find acceptance with the Review for Religious administration. To put it in another way,. this very efficiency has had the effect of making religious congregations inefficient in answering the changed conditions and changed needs of the times. Understanding Vatican II's Renewal Guidelines Something that should not be forgotten is that the intention of these charismatic leaders was to answer particular needs in society. They were answering a local need. What took priority was the need of the people, not the organization of a group with rules and. regulations. Only much later, as numbers increased and in some cases lived far from the original local area, did the group give ,special attention to its own formation. This fact should be kept in mind when we speak of the inspiration of the founder or foundress. As has been explained, with the death of the charismatic ,leader, the routinization process took. over,' bringing .to the now more organized institute a corresponding sense of securityoand stability ,among the members. This in turn created a certain insen-sitivity to the actual needs of the people, espec!ally the poor. It is in this context that one has to understand the appeal made by the Second Vatican Council: The appropriate renewal of religious life involves two simul-taneous pr%cesses: (I) a continuous return to the sources ~ 9f all Christian life and to the original inspiration b~hind a given community and (2) an adjustment of the community to the changed conditions of the times. Clearly, the council envisaged two simultaneous processes for the renewal of religious life. It went on to enumerat.e certain princi-ples in accord with which such renewal was to proceed: to follow Christ, to participate in the life of the church, to seek to identify the institute's,particular character and purpose, and to be aware of contemporary human conditions and of the needs of the church. Renewal in the Context of Max Weber's Routinization With such an impetus given by the council, one could have noticed certain initiatives taken by various communities. Many congregations set up commissions to study their roots, going into the history of their founding inspirations. General chapters made it their chief objective to redraft their respective rules and con- Novonber-Dece~nber 1998 Abeyasingba * The Decline in Religious Vocations stitutions according to the mind and spirit of the documents of the Second Vatican Council. That the various congregations made a sincere effort to adjust themselves to the changed conditions of the times cannot be denied. In the renewed constitutions one could notice that provision was made for individual initiatives. Furthermore, units of the congregation in various countries were given the freedom to adapt and change according to their par-ticular situation. These were praiseworthy changes indeed, which by and large were done after a general consultation of all the members. One could not help noticing, however, that the final outcome was worked out within a bureaucratic setup.which was hierarchical in its composition. Any new efforts were to be tried out within a certain organizational framework of the congregation. Furthermore, the starting point of such ventures was a position of economic security. This meant that the inSecurity, the uncertainty. the risk--very much a part of the life and experience of the fouflders when they first set out to answer the need of the hour!- was not there. Also~ the Vatican Council's guidelines for adjusting the com-munity to the changed conditions of the times were not followed fully. There was a general move towards a more simple lifestyle. Institutes made changes in their religious garb, in food customs, in their cloister regulations, and so forth. There was, however, no sign of a change of structures in keeping with what the founders had had during their lifetime. Changes took place only within confines that ensured that the boat would not be rocked too much. It had to be so, inasmuch as the process of roudnization was firmly entrenched. Adjusting to the changed co.n.ditions of the times (at the coun-cil's direction) was, then, not an easy task. In practical terms, con-gregations, in spite of all their goodwill and efforts to be relevant in the present day, found themselves up against a bureaucratic system incapable of providing room for the charismatic figures who might have renewed them by making the necessary paradigm shifts. By and large this could be attributed to the routinization of the charism that religious congregations underwent after the death of their founders. As a result, the religious-life renewal that the council proposed could not be realistically achieved. If the needs of people in the various areas had been met, there would have been no dearth of vocations in the religious congregation. In Review.for Religious other words, there is no need for advertising a product that is selling and is in demand in the market. Efficiency or Effectiveness ~Max Weber's sociological observations, when applied to a reli-gious institute, do indeed seem to throw some light on the reasons for the'almost universal decline in religious vocations. As long as a bureaucratic way of life governs religious congregations, they will almost always manifest a certain efficiency in whatever work they do. The work, however, ma3i not be effective, for such a system of administration does not always respond in a vigorously prophetic manner to the urgent and crying needs of the people. ' The history of the church shows that ~hange has often come from areas off the beaten track, where some indi-viduals had found a way for themselves. In modern religious cong.regations, organized in the way they are, it is almost impossible to accommodate such trailblazing elements. It can be noted historically that only the dark eras of history witness the emergence of new religious congregations. Critical times almost always bring about a breakdown of existing systems, but it is .in these chaotic and confusing situations that charismatic per-sonalities seem to apEear out of nowhere. The late Mother Teresa's Missionaries of:Charity were such a response to a chaotic situation in one of the most populated and crowded' cities in the-world, Calcutta. Her prophetic voice of compassion and kindness to the poorest of the poor cut through such barriers as caste, religion, and class. Her living witness and work proclaimed to all people the dignity of each and every per-son, which a world had lost sight of in its quest for power and wealth. Her response had a universal and global character. Her message is clear, something that religious congregations could ponder as they rethink their charisms while they and the world step into the 21 st century. The decline in religious vocations is not an entirely negative thing. A search through the crisis will make us see the reasons It is in chaotic and confusing situations that charismatic personalities seem to appear out of nowhere. L5"_S.5"__ Noventber-December 1998 Abeyasingba ¯ The Decline in Religious Vocations why such a situation has come to pass. Instead of looking at pres-ent- day confusion with tunnel vision, one should see it in.a global perspective and as a precursor of growth. Mother Teresa's e~tam-pie could help towards such a rethinking. So also could the obser-vations made by Max Weber. They can facilitate taking stock and analyzing the present situation of religious congregations. From thls starting point religious congregations could proceed to make the drawbacks and weaknesses that are found in current struc-tures irrelevant. They could make themselves ready to face the challenges of tomorrow. Weber's.Ansights, by helping us learn the truth about ourselves, can ready us to proceed to generatiye and creative actions. They can challenge us to do some honest and humble soul searching about our present situation, In St. Paul's words (2 Co 12:10), "When I am weak, then Iam strong." Notes l Max Weber, The Theory of Social and Economic Organizqtion, trans. A.R. Henderson and Talcott Parsons (U.K.: William Hodge~ and Company, 1947), p. 334. :2 Weber, Theory, p. 337. 3 "Routinization" is Max Weber's term for the phenomenon of an original idea (here, that of the charismatic leader) becoming organized a~d conceptualized in the course of time. This is the result~of the interpret-ing, analyzing,, rationalizing, and so forth that take place when congre-gations study the writings of their founders, the accounts, of' their immediate companions and a.ssociates, the recollections of others Eho knew them, and so forth. 4 In their initial insight, almost all charismatic leaders are anti-eco~ nomic; they set t~p almost no economic system for collecting or raising funds. It is the personali.ty of the leaders that attracts others~' td them and also brings in donations and gifts. The aim of charism~itic le'aders is to achieve a special goal (filling a need of the society at that time, usually serving the poor), not to meet their own day-to-day needs. SWeber, Theory, p. 337. 6 The original basis of recruitment was the founders' personal charism. A .charism is something that can only be ;'awakened" and ".tested," not something that can be taught and learned. Novitiates arid houses of for° marion, however, tend to assume a teaching stance. See W~eber, Theory, pp. 337-338. 7 Weber, Theory, p. 342. s When religious congregations spread beyond their original geo-~ graphical area and the routinization process had been set in motion, there was no preventing a bureaucratic organization. Review for Religious o Lewis A. Coser, Masters of Sociological Thought: Ideas in Historical and Social Context (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1971), pp. 230- 231. 10 Reinhard Bendix, Max Weber, An Intellectual Portrait (Garden City, N Y.: Doubleday, 1960), p. 421. ~ Bendix, pp. 421-422. 12 Coser, Masters, pp. 231-232. ,3 Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life (Perfectae caritatis), §2. the departed say we are not dead see ohr faces hear ohr voices when you leadt expect like neighbors visitihg unhnnounced we are'some~lace ~ withih view within earshot like others in your house but we are, at liberty to come and go without weight.or circumscription like winds in harp strings like real answers to your real questions Avis Kunca Kubick Novetttber-Decetttber 1998 JOHN BLAKE MORE Spiritual Maturity ife.in the spirit Reading my first Thomas Merton book back in my early twenties, I came across the phrase "spiritual maturity," an expression that delighted and fascinated me even though I had no clue of what it was designed to express. I won-dered about it for several months and even reflected on its possible meaning, but then it receded into the less acces-sible regions of my consciousness and enjoyed untroubled slumber for some time. But not forever. Over the years, as I have become more life-mature and more di'scernibly chronologically mature, the phrase "spiritual matur!ty" has--through reading, conversation, and simple observa-tion- returned to my sight and consciousness many times, to haunt me but also to stimulate me to explore further its possible meanings and its probable connections to every-day life. What would.a spiritually mature person look like or act like? Am I a spiritually mature person? Is it possi-ble for me to become one? Do I know any spiritually mature persons? All this questioning and thinking over the years has led me to formulate tentatively some answers, some ideas that I think have helped me and that I want to share with others. Some of these ideas are derivative: I got them from other folks. Others are either original or synthetic, fash-ioned from items found in reading and conversation and from observing the behavior and attitudes of people I meet. John Blake More, new to our pages, writes from Tejtn 34 - Sm. 20; Cancfin Quintana Roo; 77500 Mexico. Review for Religious A spiritually mature person is probably creative. At least one religious tradition holds that we are made in the image and like-ness of God, and, if we ask ourselves in what this image and like-ness really consist, we naturally come up with the notion that we are like God because we are creative as he is creative. We are ere- ~tive because God made us that way. He made us free and there-fore creative. As humans we show our creativity in at least three 'important spheres (and here I follow Paul Ricoeur): having, power, and valuing. Having. In the exercise of creativity all people, even the spir-itually mature, need to have some material.goods for their own use. Maybe a little, maybe a lot. But the major religious tradi-tions and the spiritual values they represent do not seem to place much importance on the acquisition of wealth, do they? In fact, they see great riches as a disvalue. So spiritually mature persons are not much concerned with acquiring wealth and possessions beyond what they need to get along decently in life. On the other hand, people who have lots of possessions have greater opportu-nities to be creative. They can create new jobs for others, build libraries ~nd museums, or Simply give some of their excess money to .people who need it to survive. In itself; possessing wealth really seems to be spiritually neutral. If one sees possession as steward-ship, it can be something positive. If, however, people believe they are the outright owners without considering that God has entrusted them with these possessions and that they must appor-tion them responsibly, then they are probably not much con-cerned with growth in the Spirit. ~ 0 Power. Spiritually mature persons are probably aware of their own need for power, but are also conscious that everyone else has the same need. We need, in the first place, power over ourselves: self-determination to decide where to live or work, who our friends and associates will be, what kind of lifestyle we will adopt or develop for ourselves. We also need to be able to exercise power over others, but this must be legitimate power, the kind of power society assigns to us and expects us to exercise intelli-gently for the cbmmon good. We have to make choices for, our children. We have to determine the ~activities of our employees if we have any. But, in these activities and others like them, if we allow strength and power to become force and coercion, we can be pretty sure we are not much interested in becoming spiritually mature. We are dismayed when we read of dictatorial aggression, November-December 1998 More ¯ Spiritual Maturity ruthless kidnappings, tribal wars, but force and coercion can occur in little things of daily life and they can have the appearance of being extremely civilized and in the best of taste. :Valuing. In the sphere of valuing, we show our creativity by making determinations about the relative worth of things and activities. Nowadays it is out of fashion to be what people call "judgmental" "because, if you tell p6ople they are doing some-thing wrong, like putting a round peg into a square hole, the~ may feel threatened or embarrassed, feelings which may be owing to a kind of paranoia rather than to comments one may offer con-structively. Spiritually mature persons seldom if ever "condemn," but th.ey must in certain situations be judgmental.Th'at is why ¯ we':haSte crii:ical faculties: to make decisions about what is worthy and what is not, to be ab!e.to distinguish between the junk and the good stuff. And that is what prophecy is all about: shouting from the housetops when you see injustice and abuse.The spiritually mature person, then, distinguishes between healthy and modest criticism done in a spirit of love, and foolish or malicious remarks made in some other spirit. We must evaluate or criticize our cul-ture, our government, our friendships, and of course ourselves. While smiling permissiveness is no virtue, it is also true that unwavering tolerance and spiritual maturity have .always been on the closest terms. One good sign of spiritual growth is a weakening of our most cherished prejudices. When we hate, fear, or feel threatened by another person simply because he is different from us, then we are failing to appreciate the image and likeness of God in that person. These are three general areas that merit consideration as we ponder the nature of spiritual maturity, but other things, too, should be looked at. Frie.ndship is of great importance in the spir-itual life. All the grea( figures of the .important religious tradi-tions, those who had the ,primal mystical experience that gave .rise to those traditions, had friendships with other people. They loved their friends dearly and openly. We, too, are right to treat, our friends lovingly, with tenderness. We look forward to seeing them and spending time with them. We talk with them about'our desires and aspirations, and we confide to them our fears and failures. We inspire them and corisole them.Sometimes we revive ~them when their spirits droop. ,Some people who are mature in the spirit experience some' difficulty in maintaining, friendships for reasons of transport, distance, or schedule, but such difficulties are ! Review for Relig4ous not insurmountable. People can ha-be a firm and meaningful frien'dghip by correspondence. Sure, by mail. Why not? If you know someone whose values and outlook are compatible with yours, you can have an ongoing correspondence with him or her that will be significant for both your live~, and also enriching. You do not have to write anything world-shaking or mind-bog-gling. Writing takes a little more time and effort than a face-to-face chat, and it does not offer the same consolations and pleasures as real face-to-face togetherness, but it is still something of great worth. Growth in the spirit is closely connected to skill in the ~ine art of listening. When I told a friend that some-one had said I was a good conversationalist, he answered that what she really meant was that I am a good listener. I wonder how right he was.'The plain fact, though, i~ that people do like to be listened to, and the spiritually mature person is a master at listening lovingly, corn-" passionately, but also selectively. By this I do not mean the kind of selective listening that'~ filters all I hear through my own ego supports in order to register only those things that satisfy or interest me. Although an interchange between friends may involve a recounting of events or a descrip-tion of facts, when I listen to a friend I am not trying to acquire factual information. I am trying to get a sense of his or her state of mind and soul. This is not always easy, in view of personality differences and of people's varying ability to articulate their inner dispositions. But~ When we listen, we need to care mostly about the person we are listening to. Spiritually mature persons have a delightful sense of child-like wonder that makes everything new. Sophisticated people who have seen it all and done it all, or just do not want to get involved, area lov less fun to be with than men and women who have a deep spiritual sense of wonder. Wonder leads to openness and surprise, contentment and faithfulness, curiosity and enthusiasm. It also brings an appreciation of the uniqueness of each person along with a sense of brotherhood and equality. " Surprising as it may seem, spiritually mature people are hardly ever highly disciplined people. This is because they are loving persons. They do everything that has to be done, they do it at the appointed time, and they 'do it right--not because they have discipline, but because they have love. They are.motivated to read Friendship is of great importance in the spiritual life. November-December 1998 More ¯ SpiritualMaturity Surprising as it may seem, spiritually mature people are hardly ever highly disciplined people. books and wash floors and get to work on time because they live out Augustine's dictum "Love and do as you please." A sullen-faced p4rson probably has too much discipline and too little love. When the persons I am talking about look out at the world, they-see a lot of ambiguity and they embrace it heartily as a major component of human life. If the Creator is good, why does he allow us to suffer so much? Why should I help the poor if poverty is not eradicable? This kind of ambiguity is embraced and accepted by mature .persons of all spiritual tradi-tions, and in the case of Christian spir-ituality there is the model of the ambiguity of the cross. Why should I forgive these people if they are killing me? Why should I ask my Father for help if he has abandoned me? And, putting the two questions together, why should I ask my Father to forgive these people who are killing me if my Father has already abandoned me? For the spiritually mature these are actually non.questions, even as they represent realities that have to be faced. Not because maturity pro-duces historical or social blindness, but because serious consider-ation of such issues leads to acceptance of reality. Such questions, when formulated as questions, are not answerable. And even here ~here is a further ambiguity: how can I accept the reality of drug abuse, teenage pregnancy, rampant poverty and ignorance, and on and on, and still work to change all these social ills, to provide some alleviation to all the suffering they cause? Does "That's the way the world is" mean "why try to change it!"? Language use, too, has to be considered in connection,with spiritual maturity. As little children we learn to use language as an instrument to further our own designs and to get others to behave in ways that promote our own interests. If we learn this skill well as children and then refine it as adults, we become wonderful manipulators or even politicians, and this is why. spiritually mature people hardly ever go into politics. They lack skill in using lan-guage instrumentally. They say what they mean and they mean what they say. They use language to inform or to persuade, but never to.manipulate. Modern societies view independence as a positive andhighly desirable virtue. Mos't parents say they want their children to Review for Religious become independent. We admire the "independent spirit." Actually, such independence is a fiction and a most undesirable one. In reality, each of us is highly dependent on at least a few other humans, and we should be. Living in human society means being interdependent: I depend on you and you depend on me. This is an important ingredient in the cement that holds human society together and promotes the development of culture. Instead of~insisting on their independence, spiritually mature persons consider themselves autonomous--which suggests the ability to live and act in freedom from outside control, coercion, or manip-ulation. That is different from independence because in my free-dom I acknowledge that I depend--sometimes radically--on others, and they on me. In our day most of us are aware (sometimes painfully aware) that the subject matter of life (the real business of human exis-tence) is change and that, in the best case, change takes the form of transformation of the person into an ever more human creature. Being human is a good thing and does not mean, as the cynic 'believes, unremitting egotism and venality. Before he started feel-ing hi.s oats, Adam was so perfect that he had conversations with God as they walked "in the cool. of the day." Being human should mean changing arid becoming perfect, as our Father is perfect. Since most of us consider such perfection an unrealizable ideal, persons who think about becoming spiritually mature prob-ably have a set of unattainable goals that they take quite seriously and adhere to assiduously. They have probably formulated a set of precepts which relate to these goals and which articulate their creatureliness and humanness during their inner conversations with themselves and with' the Spirit of God. In my own thinking about becoming mature in the Spirit, I have come up tentatively with three precepts that reflect my own human creatureliness, but are also ordered toward my capacity to become a "partaker of the divine naturE." I use them to talk to myself. Let me offer them here. Deepen your understanding of reality. Try to get a good grasp of reality by asking the ~right questions. The right questions always have three distinguishing characteristics: they.are unanswerable, they always lead to other and better questions, and they almost always begin with why. Acquiring knowledge requires study and learning from good teachers and good books, along with the will-ingness to undergo the suffering involved in replacing stale beliefs November-December 1998 More ¯ Spiritual Maturity with new data. It also dem'ands increasing connectedness to the culture in which I live and awareness of how life is lived in other cultures. What I should be looking for are meaning and connec-tion: the ultimate unity of all being and its essential oneness with the Absolute. ' Refine your tastes. Begin by distinguishing the merely attractive or pretty from the truly beautiful. If you were brought up on rock music, Mozart probably leaves you cold. Praxiteles probably has little to say to you if you think Schwarzenegger and Stallone are beautiful, Biat we should perhaps not consider ourselves less wor~ thy humans if we are drawn.to the merely attractive or pretty. ' This happens in the best of families, doesn't it? As young peo-ple, when we are most curious about the world and our place in it, we are bombarded with sounds and images and esthetic val-ues from the popular culture. Butwe eventually grow out of that; we ~"put away the things of a child," as St. Paul says. Evil is, of course, the ultimate ugliness, and our involvement in it dimin-ishes our humanity and tarnishes the image of God in us. ~ Formalize your ethics. Here we make a distinction between for-mal and material moral norms. Material norms deal with specific actions and decisions such as killing, steal!ng, and lying (not rec-ommended); and with praying, respecting authority, and being faithful (highly approved and even urged). There is only one norm for those who follow the way of formal ethics: Always seek the good and avoid what is evil. This norm is assimilated and interi-orized by spiritually mature persons to the ext~nt that it becomes part of their nature. In all their decisions and actions, attitudes and dispositions, they keep both eyes on the truly good: good for themselves, their family, their society, their nation, their 151anet: The more this single norm gets imprinted on their souls, the less they have to run through a mental checklist of material norms (do's and don'ts) to see what is prohibited and what is approved. "Seek what is good and avoid what is evil." 'Finally, spiritually mature persons are surely happy persons who radiate to o~hers their joy at living in this world with other people and at spending periods of time in prayerful silence com-muning with the Absolute. Their joy is increased by the knowl-edge that whatever spiritual maturity they may have attained is in fact a free gift from a loving and gracious God. Review for Religious DENNIS J. BILLY A "Spiritdal Turn" for Catholic Moral Theology MGY first encounter with Bernard H~iring,'ithe renowned erman Redemptorist who wrote such significant w. orks as The Law of Christ (1954)~and Free and Faithful in Christ (1978- 1981) and whom many have hailed as the father of contemporary Catholic moral theology, came during a' congress of Redemptorist moral theblogians held at Aylmer; Quebec~ 26-30June 1989. Or/ the second day of the congress,, after he had given an insightful presentation to the general assembly on the state of moral theol-ogy since Vatican Council II, I found myself sitting next to him at lunch as hemused out loud in his weak, barely audible voice (from his long and difficult battle with throat cancer) on the future of moral,theological reflection within the Catholic tradition. Then, as now, a single thought stood out from all the rest: "We have lost sight of the Holy Spirit. In the future, moral theology must give more emphasis to the role of the Spirit. Otherwise, all is lost." Hiiring was so insistent on ~his point that he stated it out-right .at a later session in a rare personal intervention from the floor, For more than eight years, I hav~ been p~ndering the mean-ing of these quiet, unassuming words perhaps in ways which he himself might not have accepted. Retrieving the Spirit Given the vast varieties of pseudo-mysticism in the history of Christianity and the great facility with which the name of the Dennis J. Billy CSSR, a frequent contributor, writes again from Rome, where his address is Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma, Italy. November-December 1998 Billy * A "Spiritual Turn" for Catholic Moral Theology Spirit can be and has been invoked as a way of avoiding critical moral reflection, it is easy to understand how, quite early on, within orthodox circles a latent (and sometimes overt) suspicion grew of anything that even vaguely resembled a charismatic ren-dering of truth by a small "Spirit-filled" elite. To a large extent the church's magisterial structure (that is, its emphasis on apostolic succession and the role of tradition) took shape as a result of its struggle against the esoteric (and sometimes laxist) tendencies of Gnostic mysticism, on theone hand, and the rigorist tenets of Montanist spiritualism, on the other (to name two of the more prominent examples). Historians point to the church's institu-tionalization of the Spirit in the office of the episcopacy and its subsequent control of the sacramental life of the Christian faith-ful as the predominant means by which, down through the cen-turies, it has safeguarded itself from similar threats. One of the unfortunate by-products of this process of insti-tutionalization was the gradual marginalization of the Spirit from the inner workings of Catholic theological reflection. As the mag-isterium became more and more centralized, it consolidated its hold over what it considered the "authentic" utterings of the Spirit and helped to create an atmosphere in which theologians were constrained to pursue their goals within increasingly limited notions of rationality. The gradual shift in Western hermeneuti-cal thought from allegory to syllogism to induction gives evi-dence to this effect, as does the roughly parallel movement in rational theory from analogy to univocity to equivocation. By most counts, this momentous restructuring of the rational pro-cesses of Western thought was as much a function of rising mag-isterial control of the sacred as of an ever changing philosophical terrain (as witnessed in the successive preeminence of Neoplatonic, Aristotelian, and Nominalist thought patterns). Localizing spiritual authority in ecclesiastical institutions, in other words, had the unforeseen .effect of gradually .disassociating ratio-nal discourse from its roots in the intuitive dimension of human existence, that side of human nature most likely to sustain a close experiential rapport with the Spirit. To speak in broad historical terms, the "despiritualization" of human reason had barely begun in the patristic and monastic traditions of late antiquity and the early Middle Ages (when the centralization of ecclesiastical power was hardly underway in Rome), had made recognizable progress during the early Scholastic period (near the time of the Gregorian Review for Religious Reform and the Investiture crisis), was in full swing with the rise of Nominalism in the early 14th century (not long after Boniface VIII's proclamation of Unam sanctam in 1302), and had reached its highest stage of development during the Age of the Enlightenment (just before Vatican Council I's proclamation of papal infallibility). Putting aside the more difficult task of discerning which histor-ical progression was influenced by which, and recognizing the probability of a circular relationship between the two (as well as the likely involvement of other discernible historical factors), one cannot help wondering if the present-day postmodern disillu-sionment with human reason--itself a reaction against the failed hopes of Reason's .coming of age--will herald an attempt to retrieve reason's lost association with the spiritual. If so, one would also have to wonder if the present tendency in the governing structures of Roman Catholicism toward increased centralization is nothing more than a momentary stay in a larger process of decentralization, the forces of which were at work long before the opening of Vatican II and will probably continue. An Anthropological Turn t Such a retrieval or "reinvestment" of reason's ties with "things spiritual" must proceed from the ins'~ghts of a sound Christian anthropology. In the present circumstances, the Pauline body/soul/spirit arrangement as formulated in 1 Thessalonians 5:23 proves especially helpful: "May the God of peace himself sanctify you wholly; and may your ~spirit and soul and' body be kept sound and blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ." Here Paul provides an anthropology that construes the human person as a union of three distinct (albeit intimately related) ele-ments: body (soma), soul (psyche), and spirit (pneuma). These ele-ments exist together in the human person and cannot be isolated one from another (as if a human body can be separated from the soul and spirit and still be examined intact). So closely are they related, in fact, that one cannot speak of spirit outside the context of soul and body, and vice versa. Since Paul proposes these anthro-pological terms while addressing the community of believers in the church at Thessalonica, care must be taken not to isolate his understanding of human existence from either its inherent social context or the life of faith. Account must also be taken of the fact that, although he insists on their intimate union in the human m Noventber-Decentber 1998 Billy * A "Spiritual Turn" for Catholic Moral Theology person, he actually says precious little about how body, soul, and spirit relate to one another in the concrete circumstances of daily living. Given these significant contextual details (or lack thereof), the following claims appear generally continuous with the main lines of Paul's anthropological vision and offer correctives to pres-ent- day exaggerated emphasis on the rational. (1) In addition to body and soul, a person can also experience his or her spirit. ,(2) A retrieval or "'reinvestment " of reason's ties with "things spiritual" must proceed from the insights of a sound Christian anthropo!ogy. The mutual relationship between body. and soul suggests a similar rapport between soul and spirit. (3) The spirit touches ~he body through the medidtion of the soul.~(4) Generally speak-. ing, the Holy Spirit touches an individual by communicating its grace first to a person's spirit and then through the .spirit to the person.'s soul and body. (5) God and the human person can enjoy a close interpersonal rapport by.virtue of their communing spirits. (6)People relate to one another on the level of body. soul, and spirit. (7) The Spirit unites the Body of Christ, the church, not only theologically (that is, to God), but also anthropologically (that is, among its members). (8) It does so primarily on the .level of human spirit and only secondarily on the other dimensions of human existence. Elicited from the Paulin4 anthropology of 1 Thessaloni~ns 5:23, these anthropological claims provide the parameters by which a discussion abo,ut reason's "spiritual renewal" may pro-deed. Key to this discussion is the need for all theologians (and moral theologians in particular) to recognize the competence (and the limits) of reason's rule. Just as reason extends to the body through its ordering of the passions (and is thereby "enfleshed"), so the spirit extends to the soul (the seat of the rational faculty) by means of its quiet in.tuiting presence. Clearly, both movements have moral significance that must be taken into account for the future of moral theology. The Criteria of Reason's Spiritual Rebirth What,might such limits be? Without exhausting the possi-bilities, the following list provides some guidelines for discerning Review for Religious the genuine ways in which reason and spirit mutually influence one another. 1. An anthropological relationship of circularity exists between spirit and reason; that is, the insights of one complement the scope and competence of the other in such a way that, when taken together, their interaction generates a field of understanding unique to themselves and which neither would be fully capable of penetrating on its own. Spirit .brings intuition and moments of keen insight to the movement of discursive thought; reason artic-ulates through language something of the inexpressible utterings of the human spirit. Authentic theological reflection taps into this relationship of circularity and allows it to open up for each succeeding generation the meaning of the symbols of the Christian faith, ~. 2. The spirit influences the mind through prayer, and vice versa. When a person.'s spirit communes with God's Spirit, there is a natural reverberation (however slight) in the other, anthro-pological dimensions of human existence. This subtle influence, which will become a veritable overflowing (redundantia) in the beatific vision, strengthens the transcendent orientation of an individual's rational operation. A "spiritua!" person tends to Con-centrate on holy things and seeks to view all things with th'e mind of God. The person?s prayer (contemplative prayer in particular) plays a transforming rather than merely ancillary role in reason's spiritual homecoming, 3. The human spirit is not "irrational," but "supranational." It does not ask reason to go against its own internal principles, but seeks continually to broaden reason's, scope by providing intu-itions that challenge previously unquestioned (and possibly falla-cious) arguments. When reason is in tune with wholesome human spirit (and even more so whefiit is in touch with God's Spirit), it is. constantly prompted to reach beyond itself and to stretch the boundaries within which it normally functions. This extended x~ange is a welcome corrective to that narrowing univocity which nowadays often masquerades as the sole legitimate face of ratio-nal inquiry. ~ 4. Theologians who reintegrate spirit and reason demonstrate a guarded yet profound respect for church authority. The gradual marginalization of spirit from the center of theological reflec-tion, which came at least in part as a result of magisterial cen-tralization and control of the sacred, does not mean that a November-December 1998 Billy ¯ A~'Spiritual Turn"for Catholic Moral TheoloKF .--7- 600 "respiritualized" reason will ignore or, worse, openly disdain the valuable hermeneutical role the magisterium has played in the history of the Catholic tradition. On the contrary, a reintegra-tion of spirit and reason should bring about an even closer work-ing relationship between theologians (in. their concern for reasoned clarity and the e.xploration of' the faith) and the magis-terium (in its concern for the preservation and purity of the faith). While neither will always agree with the other, a close working relationship between them will provide helpful correctives against the extremes of overrationalization and pseudo-mysticism that can all too often get in the way of and even obscure sound theo-logical reflection. 5. A closer working rapport between spirit anal reason will require a reintegrated understanding of the various theological disciplines, especially dogmatic, moral, and spiritual theology. The unfortunate breakup of theology in recent centuries into sep-arate and highly specialized disciplines can itself be understood as a symptom of reason's ongoing despir, itualization. A renewed or "respiritualized" understanding of reason will operate success-fully only in a context ~at seeks to preserve the unity of theology in the midst of its highly specialized and sometimes .seemingly disconnected parts. 6. Renewing reason's link with the spirit will also move a per-son's sense of vocation to the center of theological reflection. No longer will theology, be construed as something existing "in the abstract," as if proceeding outside the theologian's own personal and communal faith experience. Any presentation and consequent systematization of the symbols~of the faith will be valid only to the extent that it remains faithful to and. authentically expresses the deepest sense of a,person's call in life before God through the church and in the world. One's reflection on God, in other words. must tak~ place in the context of one's sense of self in the presence of God and the community of believers. 7. The reason/spirit relationship sheds greater ligh~ on the importance of there being a continuity between theologians' pro-fessional work and their moral behavior. Sound theological reflec-tion stems from a stable interplay between spirit and reason. It reflects the contours of individuals' calls from God in this life and reaches its fullest expression when it is enfleshed in the con-crete circumstance~ of their daily existence. This cannot happen, however, if reason is deprived of all access to the nourishing roots Review for Religious of the spirit, where the human person communes with the Spirit of God through a grace that is freely given and freely received. Sound theological reflection challenges the theologian to int~- grate reason and spirit, theological discourse and personal sanc-tity. The church needs theologians who want to be saints, who admit this desire without false humility, and who bring this desire to the forefront of their theological inquiry. 8. Finally, a reintegration of spirit and reason would sustain within theological reflection a healthy tension between "theol-ogy as science" and "theology as art." Reason's desire to ver-ify corfipl~ments the spirit's yearning for m3?stery, and vice versa. Together they provide useful correctives to the ten-dencies of overrationalization and exaggerated rhetoric, which lessen theology's scope by seekings to turn it into something it is not and should not be, Theology is more than science and mole than art, It Future moral,theological discussion will have to develop a greater sensitivity to the ethical content of humanity's symbolic xpressions. is science and.art, a rare "field-encompassing" discipline which touches all areas of human knowl-edge in its attempt to convey the meaning of the Christian faith to each successive generation.1 By preserving this tension, theo-logical reflection retains a ~.ay of expressing the faith ever anew yet always ina~cord with th~ church's theological tradition. New and creative insights emerge from the tradition precisely in this way, .thereby allowing it to expand its theologic.al horizons and to move 'forward. Implications for Moral Theology The above criteria represent just some of the ways in which a deeper understanding of the relationship between spirit and reason would change ~he way in which theology itself is conceived and carried out. As one might expect, they have very concrete implications for the future of moral theology. 1. Moral theology would be challenged to break out of its hylomorphic rendering of the human (that is, moral) act that has "get the parameters for serious discussion within the Catholic tra- Noventber-December 1998 Billy ¯ A "Spiritual Turn" for Catholic Moral TbeoloKF ~dition since the time of Aquinas. A human action is more than just an expre~ssion of body (as the object of the external action) and mind (as the internal movement of deliberated will). Greater sen-sitivity mu~t be given in futur, e moral-theological reflection to the influence which a person's spirit brings to moral action. A good place to begin would be to apply the insights of Aquir~as's teaching on grace (which, intere~stingly, he considers under the New Law at the end of his treatment of the fundamental princi-ples of morality, that is, Summa tbeologiae, I-lI, qq. 109-114, to the Pauline rendering of 'human anthropology as body (soma), soul (psyche), and spirit (pneuma). 2. Eor ~this to occur, a shift must take place in the under-standing of the nature and role of rationality in current moral-the-ologiEal reflection. In its attempt in recent years to model itself after the empirical and social sciences, theology in general (and moral theology in particular) has adopted a univocal understand-ing of rational inquiry that prevents a balanced interplay of rea-son and spirit from entering into the legitimate bounds of serious theological refledtion. The result has been an unfortunate nar-rowing (some would say "impoverishment") of theology's rightful scope. The current deadlock in the deontologist/proportionalist discussion is but one symptom of this reductive theological under-taking. 3. Since the spirit expresses itself more .through images than in the "clear and distinct" ideas of rational discoul:se, future moral~ theological discussion will have to .develop a greater, sensitivity to the ethical content of humanity's symbolic expressions. To modify Aristotle's definition: Man is not just a rational but also:a symbolic animal. In developing this sensitivity, moral theology will draw closer to the arts than ever before (at least within recent memory) and begin to effect a transformation of the genres and literary style in which it expresses itself. It will also spark a renewed interest in the ethical Content of the images and sym-bols found in the Scriptures and the church's liturgy. 4. Future moral-theological discussion will develop close ties with the three levels of Christian spirituality: (1) the experien-tial, (2) the sapiential, and (3) the analytical.2 Ethical kngwledge will be understood as something to be-garnered from the whole of human experience (that is, throughout the body/soul/spirit continuum) with special emphasis given to the social .aspects of human moral-spiritu.a! discourse and to the role of prayer and~ Review for Relig4ous discernment in moral decision making. This heightened awareness Of the spiritual aspects of its theological heritage will give moral theology a deeper awareness of its own most distinctive traits and enable it to make serious contributions in discussions with other ethical traditions. 5. Given its decision to approach moral knowledge through a reintegrated understanding of the rapport between spirit and rea-son, Catholic moral theology would do best to enter into future dialogue with other ethical traditions--be they philosophical or theological--not by seeking a least common methodological denominator (usually fully acceptable to neither side), but by maintaining without compromise its position on the close anthro-pological (and hence ethical) connection between human reason and human spirit. It is precisely on this level that an answer to the question of the existence of an autonomous Christian ethics will be found. An I~tegral U, nity, a Spiritual Turn" No longer can the Christian life be artificially divided into the way of the law and the way of ~erfection. Precept and coun-sel, .commandment and beatitude, virtue and gift are,all bound together in an integral, inseparable unity. If moral theology is to give more emphasis to the role of the Holy Spirit (as H~iring sug-gests), it must first retrieve' its lost ti~ with the inner movements of the human spirit--the place within the person where the divine and human meet. Only by including th~s neglected anthropolog-ical dimension in moral-theo!ogical reflection will the human perspective of those concerned be broad enough to allow foFa proper discerfiment of the divine. The future orientation of Catholic moral theology will depend to a large degree on how its spokesmen, both magisterial and pro-fessorial, construe (or perhaps "reconstrue") the relationship between rationality and spirituality. Reintegrating these key aspects of the tradition would have two important theological and institutional effects. On the one hand, moral decision making would evidence a notable swing toward prayer and spiritual dis-cernment in helping to solve the dilemmas of conscience that arise among the faithful. This marked "spiritual turn" would move Catholic moral theology away from its present fascination with the problem-solving machinations of quandary ethics to a relational November~December 1998 Billy ¯ A "Spiritual'Turn"for Catholic Moral Theology paradigm rooted in the divine-human encounter. Bishops and theologians, on the other hand. would move away from their all too often adversarial positions to a more collaborative, mutually supportive stance. The changed dynamics would show the impor-tance of rooting moral-theological reflection in the fullness of human experience (that is, body, soul, and spirit) while at the same time highlighting the complementary ways in which the magis-terium and church theologians elucidate the tradition. What is the future of moral theology? The answer to this question is as elusive as time itself. For the moment, let it simply be said that, while the moral theology of the~future will invariably include many things, it cannot afford to exclude or marginalize "the life of the Spirit." In the present context the latter phrase refers to rational theological reflection rooted in a profound awareness of the human spirit as it opens itself up to God's Spirit and allows the word of God to take shape and utter itself, however softly, within the cor~fines of the limited words and deeds by which ¯ we construct our human exp, erience. Such a word, however spo-ken, would resonate with authority and not return in vain. Notes t The notion of a "field-encompassing" discipline comes from Van A. Harvey, The Historian and the Believer: The Morality° of Historical Knowledge and Christian Belief(Philadelphia: Westminister Press, 1966), pp. 81-82. A similar application to spirituality appears in Sandra M. Schneiders, "Spirituality in the Academy," Theological Studies 50 (1989): 692. 2 These levels of spirituality are developed under a slightly different nomenclature in Walter H. Principe, "Toward Defining Spirituality," Studies in Religion/Sciences religieuses 12 (1983): 135-136. See also The New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), s.v. "Spirituality, Christian,", by Walter H. Principe. Review for Religious REGIS J. ARMSTRONG Consecrated Life: Anointed with Joy A passage once "noted with pleasure" by the New York Times Book Review was one by Albert Camus, whose writings express a strong current ofthe, pessimism in EuroPe in the wake of.World War II. It contains these words: "One of the temptations of the artist is to believe himself solitary. But this is not true. He stands in the midst of all, in the same rank,' neither highe~ nor lower, with all those who are working and struggling. His very vocation is. to give a voice to the sorrows and the joys of all."~ . Artists whose vocation is "to give a voice to the sor-rows and joys of all"--this could well be a description of consecrated persons standing with "all those who are working and struggling." It is a description of people called to identify deeply with the mission of Jesus, who came among us and stood in. the midst of all,,.giving voice to their sorrows and joys. How does one assume the stance of "artist" of some-thing so elusive, inexpressible, paradoxical, and fragile? To become such an artist demands entering into the pathos of life and experiencing compassion deeply, that is, as com-passio, suffering or feeling deeply with another. How does one give voice to joy at all? "Silence is the perfectest her-ald of joy," Shakespeare's Claudio says wisely in Much Ado Regis J. Armstrong OFMCap presented this paper (here some-what revised) at the annual conference of vicars of religious held in San Antonio in March 1998. His address is St. Fidelis Friary; 7790 Country Road 153; Interlake6, New York 14847. consecrated life November-Decentber 1998 Armstrong * Consecrated Life About Nothing.2 Joy, thenl is perhaps best ex~pressed transparently, whether one's focus on so paradoxically universal and personal a subject be psychological, sociological, cultural, philosophical, the- 916gical, spiritual, or liturgical. Perspectives From a biblical perspective'~ joy is an incredibly rich theme. In the Old Testament, profound joy is the chosen people's response to Yahweh's redemptive presence or, in the lager tradition, to Yahweh's ever present hesed or lovi'ng mercy. Various forms of the word joy appear in the Old Testament well over a hundred times, giving an inkling or anticipation of the New Testament, of Mary's proclamation of joy in "God my Savior'; and Paul's dramatic exhortation to the Philippians "Rejoice in the Lord always." Over and over agaifi Luke colors his Gospel and Acts with joy:'"To the poor he proclaimed the good news of salvation . and to those in sorrow, joy." If Yahweh is the supreme joy and the greatest delight for the pegple of the Old Testament, the self-giving of God in Christ provides those of the New Testament an essential quality of life, joy. The Holy One of Israel is now incarnate in the person of Jesus: the unfathomable, ineffable joy at the heart of God is now tangible. The Dictionnaire de Spiritualit~ Asc~tique et Mystique offers a variety of perspectives from which to reflect on joy. In its entry on joie, the reader can find, in addition to biblical considerations, summaries of the different theologies.3 There are considerations ' of people such as the early theological giants Origen .and Augustine, the. medieval mystics Bernard of Clairvaux and Francis of Assisi, and the much later doctors of the church Francis' de Sales and Thdr~se Of the Child' Jesus. Each of these writers, the author maintains, offers a different interpretation of the same reality. For Origen, knowledge of the gospel was a source of joy, a joy epitomized in the reaction of the aged Simeon when hd had the Infant in his arms.4 Augustine found joy in the Lord's ever-for-giving mercy, but saw its fullness in the eternal bliss of heaven;5 while Bernard repeatedly disEovered it in God's love.6 Francis of Assisi sang its praises in' hiE descrip.tioia of True Joy,7 and Francis de Sales urged his audienc~ to find joy by putting aside the plea-sures of this world and focusing on those of heaven,s Thdr~se wallowed in the joy of faith when her Beloved seemed most Review for Religious absent,9 From that vantage point alone, Franqois Bussini, author of the Dictionnaire's study, offers a variety of rich ways of study-ing joy, that is, through, the different traditions of,spirituality that provide insights into the meaning and gift of joy. ~' Gaudete in Domino Bussini might easily have added one significant name to his list of "theologians of joy": Paul VI, the author of the first papal doc-ument on the mystery of Christian joy, Gaudete in Domino, 9 May 1975., From his days as cardinal archbishop of Milan to the address of hi~ very last audience on 2 August 1967; four days before his death, joy was a leitmotif of his, a theme to which he continually returried. He offered an insight into the reason for this when he rhetorically asked the people of Milan:: "Have you ever met a saint? And, if you have, tell me: What is the characteristic you found in that soul?" His response to those questions suggests how closely he associated joy with~ the pursuit of happiness: "It will be joy [that you have found], a happiness so tranquil, so pro-found, so simple, but so true. And it is this transparency of joy that makes us declare: That is truly a good soul, because he has joy in his heart.''1° It is not surprising that as pope he took the opportunity to write a major statement on the Christian pursuit of joy. In addition to being an exhortation to pr~y for tile gift of joy, Gaudete in Domino expre~ssed in the mid- 1970s the pope's firm belief that peoples throughout the world desperately desired this "fragile and threatened" gift. ¯ Paul VI introduced his apostolic exhortatiori with a simple description of the need for joy in the contemporary ~orld (GD §1) and con'cluded with three others describing the cry of humanity, especially of the young, for the gift of joy. "We should be atten-tive to the appeal tliat rises from the hearts of humanity," Paul exhorts, "from the age of wondering childhood to serene old age, as a presentiment of the divine mystery" (GD §1). From this atten-tiveness or focusing on the joys of our hearts, Paul discovers an While never losing sight of the fact that joy is a ~timension of human life, Paul Vl found that the mystery of the Incarnate Word transformed its meaning. November-December 1998 Armstrong ¯ Consecrated Life energy and enthusiasm to share the reason for our joy with oth-ers. "In no way," he says, "can [joy] encourage the person ~vho enjoys it to have an attitudd of p.reoccupoation with self. [It] is the result of a human-divine communion, one that aspires to a com-munion ever more universal." In retrospect, Gaudete in Domino provided an insight into the call of Evangelii nuntiandi issued seven months later, which many. consider the Magna Carta of Paul VI'S papacy. There he dramatically exhorted all Christians, and espe-cially religious: "The privileged means of effective, evangeliza-tion" is to proclaim with joy "the joyful news of the fulfillment of the promises of the covenant offered by God" (EN §§69 and 6)~ At the core of the seven brief chapters of Gaudete in Domino, written in his elegant poetic style, Paul sketched the biblical foun. dations of both the Old and New Testaments and the enduring heritage bf Christian joy found in the lives of the saints. The pope may well have had Bussini's article before him,.-especially as he reflected on those saints who expressed joy in their lives and writ-ings. But it is striking how, in addition to Francis of Assisi and Th&~se of L!sieux, Paul draws special attention to the joy of the Conventual Franciscan Maximilian K01be, whom he had canon-ized a few years earlier: "His interior peace, serenity, and joy somehow transformed the place of suffering [Auschwitz]--which was usually like an image of hell--into the antechamber of eter-nal life, both for his unfortunate companions and for himself" (GD §4). While never losing sight of the fact that joy is a dimension of human life, Paul vI found that the,mystery of the,Incarnate Word transformed its meaning: Jesus himself knew, appreciated, and celebrated a whole range of human joys. More wonderfully, how-ever, Jesus revealed the s'ecret.of the unfathomable joy of.the "secret life of the Trinity," that is, the joy of living in God's l~ve (GD §3). "The ~ather is seen here," Paul teaches, "as the one who gives himself to the. Son, without reserve and without ceas-ing, in a burst of joyful generosity, and the Son is seen as he who gives himself in the same way to the Father, in a burst of joyful gratitude, in the Holy Spirit" (GD §3). The joy revealed by Jesus of Nazareth, then, "is the reverberation in human consciousness of the love that he has always known as God in the bosom of the Father" (GD §3). As the Incarnate Son of God, Jesus revealed a new, infinite dimension of joy, one that makes the human soul restless and ever eager to partake of its fullness. "In essence," Review for Religious t Paul e~iplains, "Christian joy is the spiritual sharing in the unfath-omable joy, both divine and human, which is in the heart of Jesus Christ glorified" (GD §2). But, more ~than reflecting on the rev-elatory dimension of Jesus' joy, the pope accentuates its paschal dimension as he underscores that by his death and resurrection Jesus poured the Spirit into the hearts of believers. "The Spirit, who proceeds from the Father and the Son and is their mutual love, is henceforth communicated to the people of the New Covenant and to each soul ready for his secret action. Together with him the human heart is inhabited by the Father and the Son" (GD §3). This, then, is experience of a joy that is truly spiritual, the fruit of the Spirit's presence and a characteristic of fill Christian virtue (see GD §3). Shortly before his death Paul VI shared with John Magee, his secretary, "the secret of my spirituality": .I have to recognize God the Father's action in his Son in my regard. Once I acknowledge that God can work in me through his Son, he gives me grace, the grace of baptism. After the grace of being reborn to God's life, my life becomes a tension of love with God drawing me to him-self. Always, in all of us, there is this tension betwe.en my mise-ria and God's misericordia. The whole spiritual life of every one of us lies between these two poles. If I open myself to the action of God and the Holy Spirit and4et them do with me what they will, then my tension becomes ioyous and feel within myself a great desire to come to him and receive his mercy; more than ever I recognize the need to be for-given, to receive the gift of rnercy,l~ This passage offers a m~arvelous insight~in,to'Paul's preoccupa-tion with the gift of Christian joy. That "tension of love" that stretched or expanded his entire life and made him continually aware of his sinfulness and the overwhelming love of God became joyous and made him ever more desirous to possess the joy of God's presence. Evangelica testificatio, Paul VI's apostolic exhortation on the renewal of the religious life, was significant in this regard. It expresses his conviction that the joy radiating from religious com-munities would be proof of the validity Of religious life. Joy, he maintained, would be "proof to everyone that the state of life which [religious] have chosen is h~lping [them] to realize the greatest possible expansion of [their] life in Christ." Moreover, November-Decentber 1998 Armstrong ¯ Consecrated Life it would be a magnet attracting the young to understand the appeal of Jesus, and be "the most effective invitation to embrace ttie religious life" (ET §55). Vita Consecrata Twen~ty-one years later John Paul II published his postsyn-odal apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata. Curiously, Vita conse-crata contains only scattered references to joy, fourteen in all. There are certainly echoes of Paul VI's Evangelica testificatio in phrases such as "the joyful witness [of consecrated life] to [God's] loving concern for every human being" (VC §16). Unlike Paul vI, however, John Paul II seems more concerned with the dwelling on the foundations of consecrated life. He only touches on the joy that the consecrated life brings through monasticism (VC §§6, 2.7), virginity (VC §7), and common life (VC §51), rather than off the dynamics of a spirituality of joy. Does .this mean that Vita con-secrata does not assist us in understanding consecrated life as being anointed with joy? No, but Michael Novak's observatior~ into the thought of John Paul II is apropos. The pope, Novak claims, is an artist at home in the world of the intellectual as well as in.that of the poet. To understand these dimensions of his thought, it is important to remember that he is a phenomenologist. "Simply put," Novak maintains, phenomenology is a sustained effort to bring back into phi-losophy everyday things, concrete wholes, the basic expe-riences of life as they come to us. It wishes to recapture ~those quotidian realities from the empiricists, on the one hand, who analyze them into sense data, impressions, chem-ical compositions, neural reactions, etc., and from the ide-alists, on the other hand, who break them 6p into ideal types, categories,and forms.12 -.To understand his thought, then, demands being attentive to both his language and the underpinnings of his thought. In addressing religious communities and consecrated persons "in the introduction to Vita consecrata, the pope writes of the "dif-ficult and trying period" .and of the "time of tension and struggle" in which they live. By referring to,Acts 15:31, he expresses his hope that consecrated women and men will receive the document as 'the Christians of Antioch did; by being joyful at the hope and encouragemen't which it gives. Immediate!y, however, he turns Review for Religious his attention to the entire people of'God and expresses his hope that the document will increase their joy as they become more aware of the consecrated life and, as a result, "thank almighty God for this great gift [of consecrated life]" (VC §13). Does this mention of consecrated life as a "great gift" provide a hint at the underpinnings of John Paul's understanding of what it means to be "anointed with joy"? Even a superficial reading of ¼"ta consecrata reveals John Paul's view of the consecrated life and the evangelical counsels as gifts. This perspective undoubtedly flows from his per-ception of Vatican II's emphasis on the profound reality of ecclesial communion, "in which all gifts ¯ converge for the building up of the Body of Christ and for the church's mission in the world" (VC §4). Seventy-three times he writes in Vita conse-crata of the gifts of consecrated life, of the evan-gelical counsels, of the radical gift of self for love, of the gifts of consecrated communities that com-plement one another, and so on. From John Paul's perspective, then, an awareness of the great gift of consecrated life, an awareness of being gifted; is a source of joy as well as a reason for thanksgiving". Thus Vita consecrata clearly offers an under-standing of conse, crated life that clearly supports seeing it as "anointed with j6y," for consecrated women and men have been gifted, have been sin-gled out as recipients of a special love tha~ brings joy. Fourteen times these gifts are specifically attributed to the Holy Spirit, a reminder that adds an extra note of joy~ Joy'flows from a conscious-ness of being loved--and thereby gifted. The joy of consecrated life flows from a consciousness of being '.'plunged into the fir~ of love which burns in them and which is none other than the Holy Spirit" (VC §26). It implies being gifted with an energy that pushes them beyond any joy this world offers. Like all joy, it leads to two things: a fuller.dove or union and a more profound eagerness or restlessness tha't this love be expressed and known. The joy of consecrated life demands, in the pope's words, that consecrated life "become one of the tangible seals which the Trinity impresses upon history, so that people can sense with longing the attrac-tion of divine beauty" (VC §20). From J~ohn Paul's perspective, then, an awareness of the great gift of consecrated life,. an awareness of being gifted, is a source of joy as well as a .reason for thanksgiving. Novetnber-Decen*ber 1998 Armstron~ ¯ Consecrated Life Were we to attempt a summary of John Paul's understanding of the consecrated life, we might choose this one sentence of Vita consecrata: "This special way of 'following Christ' expresses in a particularly vivid way the Trinitarian nature,of the Christian life and anticipates in a certain way that eschatological fulfillment toward which the whole church is tending" (VC § 14). Expressing those two dimensions of consecrated life--the Trinitarian and the eschatological--seems to form for John Paul lI the challenges of consecrated life and the foundations for joy. To live that conse-crated life as anointed with joy implies doing the same: reflecting in a joyful way the inner life of God in which we are caught up and, at the same time, expressing our restless pursuit 'of the full-ness of joy that will be achieved only in heaven. Our contempo- "rary struggles in rethinking the role of consecrated life in the mystery of-the church suggest two fundamental questions. First, have we plumbed the depth of the gift of the Holy Spirit that ¯ consecrated life is? And, second, have we developed a passion for the ~onsecrated life that makes it "a daring adventure of love" driving us to "that eschatological fulfillment toward which the whole church is .tending.''13 Answering those two difficult ques-tions has not been an easy enterprise. The answers seem to be as elusive as the full meaning of "anointed with joy." The Trinitarian Nature of Consecrated Life The contemporary sensitivity to inclusive language has under-scored a fundamental problem of contemporary Christian spiri-. ,tuality, namely, the failure to pay adequate attention to its Trinitarian underpinnings.14 If this is the case, focusing on the joy inherent in consecrated life through the prism of the gift of the Holy Spirit, which demands reflecting on the Trinity, might bor-dernot on being risky, but on being reckless. Language becomes a mjnefield not only because of images, for example, masculine and feminine, but also because of the elusive, transparent, incon-spicuous nature of the Spirit itself. Wind, power, light--these are some of the poetic images used to express its presence. Never pointing to itself, the Spirit cries,out "Abba!" and "Jesus is Lord!" While it is our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ, the Spirit pos-sesses us and catches up our unique spirits as its own. Following the teaching of Augustine, medieval theologians remark that within the mystery of.the triune God there is an Review for Religqous energy or quality expressed in two words: esse ad, "to be to" or "to be for" the other.~5 The phrase is undoubtedly another way of expressing that God is love, but it implies that that love means being present to or for another. Richard 6f St. Victor and the relation-oriented theology of the 12th century paved the way for Bonaventure, who identifies the Holy Spirit as the nexus or the bond joining the Father and the Son, the power of mutually being to or for the other. The Spirit is the love with which the Father loves the Son and the Son loves the Father. Therefore, the Spirit brings to both Father and Son the fruit of its presence, joy. It makes them esse adl present, to and for one another. Bonaventure goes a step further. The Spirit, he maintains, is the love with which the Father and Son love us: It is that power of love or, as Paul vI describes it, that "tension of love" which draws us into the infinite love of the triune God. It is that which enables us to respond to that divine love with the same love. Being overwhelmed by and responding to love--that is the meaning of a graced or gifted life; It makes us restless for the perfectioh of love. It is that which lifts us above ourselves, challenges us to let go of everything and be filled with love. Of necessity it calls all J Christians to a mystical embrace'of God', one that flows from the knowledge that the gift of the Spirit sweeps those who are gifted into the very heart of God. As Thomas Merton writes in Life and Holiness, "To be a Christian is to be committed to a largely mys-tical life,., to live within the dimensions of a completely mys-tical revelation and communication of the divine being." 16 What this means, of course, is dependent on the mystery of the ~ncarnate Word, for he is the revelation of the triune God. What it means to be loved by God is dependent on our knowledge of h~ow Christ reveals he is loved. As John Paul II tells us, "In the countenance of Jesus, the 'image of the invisible God' (Col 1:15) and the reflection of the Father's glory (see Heb 1:3), we glimpse the depth of an eternal and infinite love which is at the root of OUl~ being" (VC ~ 18). What it means to respondto that"love depends on our awareness of the kenosis, the self-emptying of Jesus. It makes our struggle as Christians--and, more to the point, as con-seerated women and men--to be essentially this: being Christ-centered. Understandably, then, Vita consecrata speaks of those called to consecrated life as persons called to "let themselves be seized by this love [to the point of] abandoning everything" (VC §18). He speaks of them devoting themselves "with undivided 1-6-1"November-December 1998 Armstrong ¯ Consecrated Life heart" (VC §1), making a "choice of total ~elf-giving to God in Christ" (VC §2), and expressing themselves "in a radical gift of self for love of~the Lord Jesus Christ" (VC §§.3,.12). This becomes a never ending recognition of philokalia, or the love of the divine beauty revealed in Jesus, and a progressive following of the Spirit's lead,to conformity with Christ (see VC §19). E~chat~logical Dimensidn of the Consecr~ated Life This ~focus onthe revelation of God's love in.the person of Jesus, however, leads John Paul to the secon~d dimension of con7 secrated life: its eschatological charhcter. "It is the duty of,the consecrated life," he maintains, "to show that the incarnate Son of God is the eschatological goal toward which all things tend, the splendor before which every other light pales, :and the infinite beauty which ~alone can fully satisfy the human heart" (VC §16). Here. too the gift of the Spirit is of quintessential importance. It enables "new men and women;to recognize the appeal of such a demanding choice, . . . awakens .the desire to respond, fully, . . . and guides the growth of this desire" (VC §19). "By allowing them-selves to be guided by the Spirit on an endless journey of purifi-cation," the pope maint~ains, "they become, day by day, conformed to Christ, the prolongation in history of a special presence of the risen Lord" (VC §19). In Vita consecrata John Paul II speaks of the Holy Spirit ninety-five times. The Spirit of Vita consecrata is power unlimited (VC §25), ,works without ceasing (VC 921), continually animates (VC §25) and gives strength (VC §30), and shapes and molds the hearts of those who are called (VC §19). The work of the Spirit as it guides us on its purifying journey is clearly one of calling, us beyond ourselv~es and beyond our limited experience of God's love~ Although ¼"ta consecrata clearly expresses this traditional, oth-erworldly spirituality, the pope also sees that the ardent expecta-tions of those consecrated persons demand an expression in the world in which~they live. Since "here we have no lasting city" (Heb 13:14), their longing "expresses itself in work and mission through a spirit capable of giving rise in human society to effec-tive aspirations for justice, peace, sglidarity, and forgiveness" (VC~ §27). These are the ones who "bring.hope to their brothers and sisters who are often discouraged and pessimistic about the future, . . . ~ hope founde~ on God's promise con~tained in the revealed Review for Religious word: the history of humanity is moving toward 'a new heaven and a new earth'" (VC §27). The hope they have discovered in the mystery of God's love, in other words, makes them eager to encourage others. And so their eschatological spirituality calls for active and renewed involvement in programs of systemic social change that are sensitive to the signs of the times, to the prefer-ential option for the poor, and to the promotion of,justice (see VC, §§81, 82). "Eschatological expectation becomes mission," John Paul teaches, "so that the kingdom may become ever more fully established here and now" (VC §27). Above all, however, this eschatolog- ~ ical thrust is oriented toward the future, a theme the pope introduces fourteen times in his exhortation. "By their charisms," he states, "consecrated per- ,~ sons become signs of the Spirit point-ing to a new future enlightened by.faith and.by Christian hope" (.VC §27), Thus the gift of the Spirit:is always prompting (VC §§1, 19, 22, 25), guiding (VC §§19, 63), awakening desire (VC §19), and teaching the hearts of those who are ca!l.ed, ~for it is the "educator par excel-lence of those who are consecrated" (VC §60). The Spirit's role in shaping the~future of consecrated life is perhaps best captured in the phrase "the creative guidance," in a section that speaks of the future (V.C §63). The phrase is similar to another, "creative fidelity," found earlier in the. document where the pope invites consecrated women and men to propose anew and with courage the enterprising initiative, creativity, and holi-ness of their founders and foundresses in response to the signs of the times,emerging in today's world" (VC §37). The Spirit's creative energy, then, flows throughout ¼"taxonsecrata, as the pope sees it, fashioning new expressions of consecrated life (VC §§ 10, 12), pointing to a new future (VC §27), and rejuvenating the Bride of Christ by the consecrated life (VC §64). "You haveonot only a glorious history to remember and recount," he declares, "but also a great history still to be accomplished" (VC §110). There is a built-in dynamic here. Rahner called it "The Dynamic Element in the Church" and suggested that it could very easily be a point of tension between the hierarchy and consecrated religious. Recent The Spirit's role in shaping the future of consecrated life is perhaps best captured in the phrase "the creative guidance.'" November-Decentber 1998 Armstrong * Consecrated Life history has shown us that it can easily be a point of tension among consecrated religious themselves, especially between the more traditional and the more creative brothers and sisters or between those without grounding .in the tradition, frequently older mem-bers, and those willing to "try anything" new without the tradi-tion's guidance. "Proposing anew the initiatives, creativity, and holiness of founders or foundresses" or developing "a dynamic fidelity to their mission" is easie'r said than done. Nevertheless, it is this very energy of the Spirit that John Paul II understands as revitalizing consecrated life and enabling new men and women to recognize its appeal. In this context, too, itis striking that John Paul writes of "the perennial youth of the church" and sees it integrally tied to "the new spiritual and apostolic impulses" of "new or renewed forms of the consecrated life" (VC §12). VChere is joy in all this? Perhaps it is found best in John Paul's image of "the perennial you. th of the church." No one could ques-tion the pope's concern for the young; his repeated meetings with and addresses to young people throughout the world are proof of that concern. The prerogative of the young, he frequently reit-erates, is to be concerned about the future, to dream about its unfolding, and to be excited about its shape. Is it not precisely in their dreaming and excitement that they find joy, a joy that is contagious and that enlivens even the more depressed? An echo of"ad Deum qui laetificat iuventutem meam" may be heard here, "to God who gives joy to my youth." As G.K. Chesterton observed, "The ~arpe diem religion is not the religign of happy people, but of very unhappy people. Great joy does not gather the rosebuds while it may; its eyes are fixed on the immortal rose which Dante saw. Great joy has in it the sense of immortality; the very splendor of youth is the sense that it has all space to stretch its legs in." 17 The pope's eschatological vision wisely notes the perennial youth that flows from the energy of the Spirit and keeps it ever young. With that alone comes joy! Tucked away among the more mystica! passages of T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets is one that is appropriate here: "The hint half guessed, the gift half understood, is Incarnation." 18 Eliot reminds his readers that the incarnation, is the only prism through which "to apprehend the point of intersection of the timeless with time ¯. something given and taken." A marvelous description of Con-secrated life! The Johannine tradition undoubtedly offers' the strongest Review for Religious :hints about the mystery of joy. The term chara, joy, occurs nine times in the Gospel of John and once each in the three Letters. Of all the references to joy in the Gospel, all but one are in the Last ~Supper discourse (15:17; 16:20-24; 17:13), where it is a future possibility opened up for Jesus' followers by his victorious death and th

Issue 55.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1996. ; Revi for Retig ous i, a fo .m for shared res ea on on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written from a tbeological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis UniversiD, by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SL UVCA.SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1996 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religiou$ Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY/AUGUST1996 *VOLUME55 *' NUMBER4 contents 342 symposium - part 3 Religious Life: Directions for a Future Albert Dilanni SM reviews three stages of religious-life renewal and sets forth those areas for future efforts. 365 expanding vision Internationality: Consciousness Raising and Conversion Janet Malone CND highlights six stages of consciousness raising in the process of a religious group's becoming purposefully international. 373 Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community Finian McGinn OFM presents the challenge of multicultural diversity in religious-life communities and some directions towards resolution. Review for Religious 388 396 new life It's Summer! A Letter to Young Religious Robert P. Maloney CM encourages those who are young to enjoy and use well the gifts of this summertime of life. Emerging Forms of U.S. Religious Life Marlene Weisenbeck FSPA identifies the motivations and the relationships between charism, mission, and ministry in the formation of new communities and styles of consecrated life. 414 425 340 431 436 witnessing I Guess and Fear Donald Macdonald SMM suggests some clarity points in the midst of current confusions in religious life. Force of Habit William Jud Weiksnar OFM reflects upon the sign and symbol value of the simple brown tunic of a Franciscan. departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: General Chapters: Current Legislation Book Reviews .~uly-August 1996 prisms FVhenT/~7 is "enough" enough? It is the common question: Did you get enough to eat? enough to drink? Is the room warm (cool) enough for you? Enough is a hard concept to define in our practical living. If people's perception of their own worth as persons is tied up in their work, when have they worked long enough or hard enough? Some people find it difficult to turn over responsibility to others or "to retire." Enough seems not to have a place in their vocabulary. Others at a younger age let work consume their days and evenings and weekends. They, too, seem oblivious to the possibil-ity of freely chosen limits. We have heard the phrase "get a life" and we know that it can be a criticism to the quick for such people. Besides questions of food and drink and work and rest, enough plays a similarly difficult role in determining security. When are there more lights outside and more locks and alarm systems than we need for reasonable secu-rity? When do we have enough money for travel and its surprises and emergencies? When is there enough money put aside for care of the elderly--others or ourselves? The danger with a money-focus is, as Jesus describes in a story, that our barns are never quite big enough to hold our piled-up wealth. When we consider healthcare in the industrialized countries, we find again the difficulty of knowing when enough medical care has been called upon and when we are moving into extraordinary and sometimes minimally enhancing medical procedures. The subtlety of enough allows us morally to steer our way between the always immoral assistdd suicide and the decision to refuse any extraordinary means to prolong life. Review for Religious For each of us, in our uniqueness, to know how to live enough and move enough and have being enough remains a rich grace-gift to be prayed for. We call the gift which helps us to say "enough" Christian discernment. To be a person who discerns demands that we be people attuned to the working of God's Spirit in our lives. Discernment is not a process of decision making that we stir up on a moment's whim. When we think of people (per-haps including ourselves) as being attuned to God, we mean that they have a serious and ongoing relationship with God in prayer and in reflecting on the Scriptures and God's workings in the world. Such people find themselves growing in a sensitivity, as all lovers do, to the ways of seeing, the desires, and the ways of acting of the one loved. That kind of sensitivity is the power source of our Christian discernment. Because sensitivity is involved, it is not something we learn by rulebooks although Jesus reminds us that "I have come, not to abolish [the law and the prophets], but to fulfill them" (Mt 5:17). As we can appreciate, the process of discerning is not a sometime thing that we can blithely manage at short notice unless we are sensitized lovers of God. The dailyness of prayer and Eucharist are privileged ways for us becoming lovers growing in sensitivity. Today we seem to live with the question of Enough? in many areas of our lives, and our personal decision about enough does not come easy. We need to enter deeply into our Catholic faith and experience Jesus' promise of "another Paraclete." Yet there is one instance of enough which remains a paradox. Can we ever grow enough in God's love that our sensitivity for discernment can say "enough"? David L. Fleming SJ NOTE: On our inside front cover we provide our E-mail address. For some of our domestic and international subscribers, it may give convenient and helpful access to our editorial office. ALBERT DI IANNI Religious Life: Directions for a Future symposium part 3 Today we often hear a question seldom asked before Vatican Council II: "How is it going with your congre-gation?" And We know immediately that the questioner is interested in vocations. Nearly always the answer is: "Quite good in the third world, but bad in the first world." After thirty years of renewal efforts, the average age of most congregations founded before the 20th century is in the 60s for male l~eligious.and in the 70s for female reli-gious. Patricia Wittberg speaks of "catastrophic decline," "collapse," and "probable demise," and Markham, of "mas-sive denial." In the 1960s religious women in the United States numbered over 200,000. They have suffered a 55 percent decline and now number about 90,000. Given their average age we can expect further decline. Male reli-gious have suffered a decline of over 30 percent. We can hedge about these cold facts, but they are a cause for deep concern. A moderate decline in vocations would be man-ageable, but such a steep decline demands that we ask searching questions about the process of renewal. There are disparities within the vocation situation. In the first world, some communities are attracting significant numbers of candidates. They are the newer communities like Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity and the Albert Dilanni SM last wrote for us in September-October 1993. He is now superior of the Marist novitiate, Our Lady of Mercy, at 15 Notre Dame Avenue; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02140. Review for Retigio'us Legionaries of Christ. In Mexico the Legionaries are referred to as the. new Jesuits and are subjected to criticisms similar to those launched against Jesuits in an earlier age. (A new group with a similar name, Cruzados de Cristo, has sprung up in Mexico and is enjoying similar vocational success.) The Fellowship of New Religious Communities had sixty-three new Catholic congrega-tions on its 1993 mailing list. There are at least two dozen oth-ers) Most of these groups are traditional in theology, but creative in developing community structures and prayer forms and in their integration of the laity. Even in the third world, vocational growth is not homoge-neous. The .main areas of growth are sub-Saharan Africa and parts of Asia, especially India and Indonesia. Brazil, on the other hand, is either stable or on the decline. The crucial factor seems to be that the churches of Africa and Asia, often surrounded by strong Muslim groups, tend to be more "conservative" of classical Catholic practices and spirituality, while the Brazilian church more than all others has adopted liberationist tendencies. Three Stages of Renewal I believe that we are in the second' phase of a three-step pro-cess in the renewal of religious life since Vatican II. The first step was the explosion immediately after Vatican II, an explosion pro-voked not only by the council but by the secular cultural revolu-tion. It was a time for rejecting all categories and trying to live in the in between. It was a time'of high experimentation in theology and lifestyles, of reexamination of all institutions including the family, traditional morality, and etiquette. In religious life we moved away from whatever seemed rigid, artificial, and stiflingly traditional, in favor of what seemed more dynamic, new, and life-giving. No longer defensive regarding the democratic ideals of the West, we sought to integrate them into our congregational existence. We dismantled structures that were in place for cen-turies, emphasized interpersonal dialogue and individual needs, decentralized authority, created leadership teams, redefined poverty, chastity, and obedience, abandoned institutional aposto-lates in favor of small-group work with the poor or the marginal, and reinterpreted community in terms of sharing quality time together. It was the best of times and the worst of times. It was a time of great creativity especially in the founding of new types J'ul),-./lugust 19~6 Dilanni ¯ ReligiousLife The second stage of the renewal, is the time of the winnowing fan, the stage of sober reassessment. of apostolate--Joan Chittister often stresses this and women's role in it--but also a time of great confusion, of loss of identity, of abandonment of loyalties, of many departures and few arrivals, of decline in morale and fear of the future. The second stage of the renewal, in which we presently find ourselves, is the time of the winnowing fan, the stage of sober reassessment. Recent books and articles from all "over the ideo-logical spectrum are calling for self-criticism and evaluation of the directions taken .by the renewal: Avery Dulles, Elizabeth McDonough, Joan Chittister, Patricia Wittberg, Martin Tripole, Mary Jo Leddy, Judith Merkle, David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, and on and on. Almos~ all urge a move beyond the individualism apparent in the so-called "liberal" model. They speak of the need of "common vision" and a "corporate sense" and "criteria by which the validity of their lives can be measured." The authors do not agree on the solution. Some call for a deeper retrieval of the community's charism (if it has a charism); others, for a real communal commit-ment to helping the poor and the oppressed; and still others, like MaryJo Leddy and Joan Chittister, for a move beyond liberalism to something even more radical or revolutionary. The third stage in this renewal process will be, I believe, a time of greater peace, when the good features of the new have been institutionalized and its excesses discarded and Catholics once again view religious life as a way to follow Christ in a more literal way. In this symposium, however, we are still at the stage of sober reassessment, discussing whether we need to shift into a new gear and or just stay on cruise-control. I approach this challenge not in despair but in hope, a hope that arises out of reading the his-tory of religious life. Before the French Revolution (1789) there were 300,000 male religious "in Europe. Forty years after the Revolution this number had decreased by more than two-thirds to 70,000. But in the 1830s a great revival began. Some 600 new Roman Catholic religious congregations were founded in the 19th century, more than at any other period, and the actual number of religious attained historic new heights. The Jesuits, who had been suppressed from 1773 to 1814, flourished as never before. A similar reflowering is not impossible in our time. Review for Religious o The contemporary crisis of religious life has been very deep. It is related to the .attempt to restate the Christian faith for an age called postmodernity. We have been adapting with great strain to a new kind of need for God, not a God of the gaps who fills in for the weaknesses of science, but a God at the center of life, a God who provides depth of meaning and answers our ultimate concern. Directions for a Future: Background Considerations ., George Aschenbrenner SJ felt that in my 1994 book I had set down criteria that might guide a reevaluation of the renewal and an effective move to the future.2 So for the present symposium he assigned me this topic: What are the criteria for judging whether a .proposed change of direction or structure in religious life will be a profitable change? What are the signs of a good change? I have interpreted his question as asking: In what directions should we move, and why? But, before we can entertain the question of directions, some background considerations are necessary. First, we must realize that the theological backdrop to religious life has shifted dra-matically. Up to thirty years ago, all religious, irrespective of their style of life, shared a theological consensus that dated back to the early church. Whether they were hermits, monks and nuns, medieval mendicants, apostolic Jesuit-type religious, or religious of the newer 19th-century type, all religious viewed themselves as primarily engaged in saving souls, their own and those of others. Christianity in general and religious life in particular were given a mystical and eschatological interpretation and were concerned with union with God and "the four last things." Intellectual activ-ity and teaching and care of the sick were important, but were subordinate to a concern for eternal salvation, the "one thing necessary." Since Vatican II, however, chinks have appeared in this higher unity, this sacred canopy, and basic questions have been asked about the meaning of Christianity and the place of religious within it. While the media and some religious focus on controversial issues of church polity like clerical celibacy and women's ordination, the deeper questions are: How should we conceive of our relationship to God? Does salvation begin on earth? What is the meaning of the kingdom of God? Within the mystical-eschatological emphasis, the dominant metaphor for women's congregations was that of becoming a ~uly-Aug~st 1996 Dilanni ¯ Reli~ous L~e "spouse of Christ." To some people of today, this may seem intol-erably sexist, patriarchal or "kyriarchal," but the image contains a core of meaning valid for both men and women. It underscores the need for an affective union with Christ and with a personal God. Mystical language was its common coinage. Commentators spoke of "spiritual marriage" and "transforming union." Many books were written about progress in mental prayer, contempla-tion, and the three stages of the interior life. Today a hunger for spirituality is still alive among religious, witness the popularity of directed retreats and the Ignatian Exercises. It is part of what David Tracy calls an "amazing resurgence in spirituality.''3 Nevertheless, our consuming interest has been elsewhere. Whereas previously religious sought to move outward from a deep interiority, we have preferred to begin with exteriority. Like behaviorists, we have been convinced that action shapes hearts and that congregational renewal would come from movement into relevant apostolates that reexpressed our charism. The "spouse of Christ" model was criticized as a "beautiful soul" spir-ituality, and its practitioners were compared to birds preening themselves. Salvation was brought down to earth, and holiness was linked with wholeness--becoming a well-integrated person-- and with service to others. "Crazy" saints like Philip Neri (who did outlandish things out of humility) were out. The fasting of Catherine of Siena and others has been understood as "holy anorexia" (Rudolph Bell's term), a subconscious protest against male domination. Unless mortification was relational--a sacri-fice involved in one's work for others--it was conside~'ed unhealthy. Better to work for and with the poor than to fast in adoration of God. As a result, a new metaphor for religious life replaced spouse of Christ. It was the image of the prophet at the cutting edge of social and political issues,, breaking new ground in the liberation and humanization of peoples, especially through systemic change in favor of the poor and oppressed. After the Jesuits' dramatic shift toward faith and justice, the charisms of most other active congregations, no matter how diverse, were suddenly found to center on these same concerns. The Roman synod of 1971 called social justice a "constitutive" part of the Christian apostolate, and many interpreted this as meaning that it was to be a necessary component of each apostolate. Most recently, however, a reac-tion has set in. Jesuits like Avery Dulles and Martin Tripole, while Review for Religious agreeing .that social justice should be a fundamental concern of religious life, resist the notion that it is an essential ingredient of each Jesuit apostolate. It is now reported that even Pedro Arrupe SJ, its principal protagonist, had second thoughts about how it was absolutized.4 Strangely, the metaphor of religious as social prophet did not attract numbers of vocations, certainly not in the first world. Marie Augusta Neal admits this and attributes it to fear of its inherent difficulty and risks. But, historically, danger did not deter but rather whetted the appetite of people intent on the religious adventure. Nineteenth-century missionaries like St. Peter Chanel boarded rickety ships on precarious one-way trips lasting eleven months to preach to peoples who had not yet emerged from can-nibalism. Could the resistance to the new prophetic stance be due to something other than fear? Could it be that, however admirable, it is not perceived by Christian consciousness to be at the center of the religious project? In what follows I will set out three directions in which we must move in future efforts toward renewal. The first two are sociological and could apply to almost any social group or cor-porate entity. They are actually dialogues with Wittberg and with Nygren and Ukeritis, whose studies I find revealing. The third direction is theological and addresses some of the questions just raised. Directions for a Future The first direction: An effective religious community must be visible. Recent authors have sounded the alarm that religious life, especially among women, is disappearing as a visible corporate entity, as an institutional presence. Joan Chittister writes that religious communities have "done a great deal to foster the prophetic individuals in their midst," but "at the same time, they have done very little to function as prophetic groups.''5 Elsewhere she dramatizes: "Religious must ask themselves what they stand for as a congregation and who knows it, because if nobody knows it we don't stand for it." She continues: "When we stood for edu-cation, health service, and the care of innocent children, everyone knew it. When we stood for insertion of Catholics into the white Anglo-Saxon world, no one called that political, and everyone knew what we were about, Religious congregations stood as bul-j~ uly-dug~st 1996 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life warks against ignorance, illiteracy, disease, abandonment, and secularism. We turned our resources in those directions. Now we have the best-educated groups in the world, each member of which is regarded with professional respect, and the most invisi-ble congregations.''6 " This is an important point that should guide future planning. If as religious we desire truly to influence others and attract new candidates, we cannot act as disembodied spirits, noncorporeal freedoms, anti-institutional angels. We must witness not only as individuals but as a collective unity. And to do so we must be vis-ible as a collective unity. Clearly, religious were more visible as members of a group when they worked in institutional commit-ments and wore an identifiable religious habit. When they left these institutions and took on secular jobs in social service, when they declined the habit and were absorbed into the crowd, they tended to lose corporate impact of all kinds, even the new one of being socioreligious prophets. "The more its members became unidentifiable," says Wittberg, "the more difficult it became for any order, as a corporate entity, to fulfill its newly defined prophetic role.''7 Another major cause of the current invisibility of religious congregations has been our readiness to embrace contemporary democracy's postmodern move toward absolute egalitarianism and nonelitism. Eager to abdicate every hint of triumphalism, we have become levelers. This is seen in the way we have interpreted Lumen gentium's universal call to holiness, which, according to Wittberg, hit like a bombshell and robbed religious of a sense of distinctive identity. It had this effect because theologians and reli-gious interpreted it politically rather than theologically or spiri-tually. "We are all called to holiness," said the commentators, emphasizing the word all, as if the point of the doctrine were to rule out all talk about more or less effective roads to holiness or about religious life being a way of perfection aspiring to something higher. But is the political point the central thrust of the decla-ration? Should we not place less stress on the "all" and more on what we are all called to, that is, holiness? Should religious not be less worried about standing out (or failing to stand out) and more concerned about redoubling their efforts to achieve holiness within their life and lifestyle? In fact, what happened was that the idea of striving for personal holiness dropped out as the cen-tral concern for religious. Review for Religious The reason for this overemphasis on the political may be due to the church's relative inexperience with democracy and moder-nity. In her sociological study of religious orders; Wittberg con-tends that the 19th-century religious congregations, sharing the restorationist mentality of the church, never really came to grips with the modern thrust toward liberty, fraternity, and equality. Rather, these congregations retreated into a fuga mundi (flight from the world), reinstated 17th-century practices, and lived in a time warp for years. In America this was exacerbated because most religious sprang from and ° worked in isolated immigrant subcultures. It is perhaps because of this that, when Vatican II opened the doors, the congre-gations went overboard in their embrace of the new forms of participative democ-racy. We eagerly adopted its absolute horror of distinctions for fear of elitism and played down all differences between religious and laypersons. As a result we vanished as visible corporate groups purporting to be on a different road to holiness.8 But can this continue? Can the concept of religious life long endure in an atmosphere of hyper-egalitarianism? Would reli-gious life ever have sprung up at all if some persons did not desire to be different and follow Jesus in a more literal way? Wittberg describes religious life as a form of virtuoso or (less frequently) heroic religiosity. Practitioners of virtuoso religiosity are those within a religion who want to go the extra mile. They want to create a zone of intensity within the field of holiness. They p(r-ceive themselves as different and, to some degree, as exemplars. Prospective virtuosi come together, says Wittberg, "in the expec-tation that their participation will help to maintain some collective good--the health and welfare of the destitute, or the conversion of heretics, or even the establishment of a utopia of saints on earth that can serve as a beacon to others.''9 Christianity and other religions have always spawned such virtuosi. Luther dissolved the vows of the monks and declared everyone equal in the quest for holiness, but soon Protestantism was crowded with Pietists, Mennonites, and Anabaptists. Later it was the Shakers and today the Pentecostals. Recently, new virtu-osi groups have mushroomed Within Catholicism: the Legionaries of Christ, the Missionaries of Charity, the Lion ofJuda, Les Fr~res We must witness not only as individuals but as a collective unity. July-August 1996 DiIanni ¯ Religious Life de. St. Jean, the Opus Dei, the Neo-catechumenate, the Focolare, the Sant' Egidio community of Rome, Comunione e liberazione, and so forth. All model themselves on the early Christian com-munity in Acts or the seventy disciples commissioned by Jesus (Lk 10), both of which seem to represent Christianity lived in its highest purity. Like the early Christians, these new groups believe that forming Christians is not easy, but requires being challenged to live one's baptism; requires a formation process, a "way" (some form of RCI& program), a sustaining community, and a partici-pative liturgy. We must accept the fact that as religious we desire to be dif-ferent and follow Christ in a distinctive way. If we are to influence others, to witness as prophets, our commitment must be in some way public and Visible. If this is perceived as a higher way, so be it. Chalk it up to diversity. We cannot blur all distinctions out of a fear of elitism. All groups that aspire for something more are in danger of elitism and must be warned against it, but their enthu-siasm should not be crushed. Members of religious congregations purport to live their Christianity in a way that is differently orga-nized, more regulated, more intense, and at times more difficult than that of other Christians. They will have an impact on oth-ers to the degree that their sacrifice is real and their corporate witness is visible. Whether through all this they always succeed in becoming men and women of God is another question. The second direction: Effective religious community should be inten-tional as opposed to merely associational, and this demands a transcen-dent corporate goal and adequate commitment mechanisms. An intentional community is a community with a purpose for the sake of which members are willing to make significant sacri-fices of their individual preferences. Examples are sports teams and the military. An intentional community is different from an associational community, which admits a plurality of goals and calls for a lesser degree of sacrificing of individual preferences. Intentional communities have a strong sense of direction. This is due to at least two things: a transcendent corporate cause and a set of commitment mechanisms, that is, common sacrificial prac-tices that reinforce commitment at a level deeper than rational persuasion. We will consider these two elements in turn. A transcendent corporate goal: Discussing visibility, we have already dealt with the need for a goal, for being clear on where the Review for Religious group stands. Here I make the further point that the goal must be one that transcends the community itself. I say this because some authors seem to believe that the goal of a community can be inter-nal to ~the community itself. Edwin Keel and Susan Beaudry, for example, propose a third ruling metaphor for religious life, beyond those of the spouse of Christ and prophecy. For them, religious life is best presented under the image of a journey together toward God. They maintain that "what religious have been seeking, whether they realize it or not, and what religious community can offer, is neither surrogate family life, nor friendship, nor the intio macy~of small groupings, but faith companionship on the spiritual journey." 10 They describe the common spiritual journey in terms of a discovery of one's personal vocation before God and an integra-tion of it with that of others. Spiritual maturity is achieved by getting in touch with what Jung calls the Self, which lies deeper than the ego and is the place where we truly meet God. The old perfection model of holiness with its rigid rules tended to flat-ten individual differences and to foster immaturity. The journey image with its new and democratic skills--province assemblies, mission statements, corporate reflection processes, confrontation techniques (all now permanent parts of religious life)--may seem messier, but is psychologically healthier. Community life is like a family going on a trip in a crowded van, constantly negotiating, sometimes bickering, always arriving, never reaching. Some of these spiritual-journey elements are valuable; but I wonder whether the journey can be the dominant metaphor of religious life. Does it not tempt us to remain in an associational model of community, which, to believe tl~e experts, does not endure beyond one generation?I' Does it not come too close to what Gerald Arbuckle has called the "therapeutic" community? Can it generate the needed intensity and direction? For all the benefits of psychology, are not psychological self-absorption and an overly intense regard for the internal aspects of community part of the cause of our present decline? Wittberg says, "'The dominant language of religious life., shifted from theological constructs to social and psychological paradigms,' that were inad-equate to explain what was distinct or desirable about the lifestyle."~2 This has gone so far that in some congregations com-munity members who desire entry into a new local community must first present a written evaluation of themselves from the July-August 1996 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life community they are leaving. In other congregations the .concern for personal autonomy and consensus has at times resulted in the election of effete leaders at the local level. Is there nota middle ground between the not-in-touch-with-their-feelings religious of the past and some present-day religious who have become too self-involved as individuals or as community? In order to form an intentional community, people must come together for the sake of a cause that transcends both themselves and their experience of journeying together. A clearly articulated spiritual or apostolic vision and ideal must draw them on. Each member must partially relinquish his or her personal, vocation in favor of the vocation of the congregation. One's personal project must be trimmed in favor of the community proiect, Older reli-gious tell stories of pioneer days in schools and hospitals when they roomed together in classrooms and toiled almost slave hours. They may stress the pain and suffering, but from the glee with which they tell the stoW we know they would not have exchanged it for the world. Their reward lies in having been part of some-thing greater thanthemselves, protagonists together in a great religious adventure. Commitment mechanisms: Historically, intentional religious groups have been sustained in their resolve not only by clear tran-scendent goals but also by a number of practices that sociologists call commitment mechanisms. These are practices, customs, or rituals that reinforce motivation by solidifying the affective ties between the members. Sociologist Benjamin Zablocki contends that the commitment mechanisms discarded by congregations after Vatican II were actually essential for community survival.~3 The primary types of commitment mechanisms were first developed in the monasteries and then adapted to other forms of religious life. They are (1) common rules and rituals, (2) boundary maintenance, (3) shared sacrifices, and (4) mortification practices. 1. Common rules or rituals include the daily horarium and schedule, spiritual exercises, meals :in common, reading at meals, and grand silence. They are found in the constitutions and in books of customs. 2. Boundary-maintenance mechanisms Fiave the purpose of maintaining a clear distinction between members of the group and other people. Examples of such mechanisms are: wearing a common habit, living together in cloistered convents, bestowing new names, and reducing the visits of family and outsiders. (Today Review for Religious the lack of vocations has spawned the phenomenon of associative membership, which renders the boundaries more fluid and lessens the sense of identity. Most recently commentators are beginning to bemoan an excessive fluidity. Their plea is that such a religious congregation cannot long endure unless there is a strong core group of full-fledged members who are strongly distinguished from others.) 3. Shared sacrifices arise out of involvement in common works of the congregation. Historically there was no stronger source of cohesion than shared sacrifices in behalf of an institute's common apostolates. 4. Mortification practices include such customs as culpas, the chapter of faults, receiving monition, fasting on certain days, taking the discipline, wearing a common habit, and wearing a veil. These worked to strip off an old identity in favor of a new one and in the process helped to cement people into a higher unity. In reviewing these mechanisms I am in no way advocating a return to all or to any of them. On the other hand, religious life cannot prosper without some structures that reinforce motivation at the affective level. To move beyond individualism we need to invent common rituals and symbols that speak to us at the level of the subcon-scious. We cannot build community by teaching a charism only conceptually while leaving it to each member to embody it in his or her own way. If our religious life has no face, our communities will end up being only comfortable hotels. In replacing outdated commitment mechanisms, we must employ new psychological insights and provide adequate room for personal differences. But these new mechanisms must have some relation to past ones. In creating them we must carefully study the older structures to see what purpose they had in the mind of the founder, to discover what aspect of the charism they expressed. The new structures must be more suited to our times, but they must also connect with and incarnate the charism and spirituality of the institute. The role of the superior is a commitment mechanism of tra-ditional religious life that is not often mentioned. We must admit, People must come together for the sake of a cause that transcends both themselves and their experience of journeying together. ~dy-AuKtwt 1996 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life however, that nothing worked better to reinforce collective unity than Mother Superior. The traditional superior, especially when he or she was also the founder, was considered a voice of God. Today, conversely, some 75 percent of religious communities of women have no superior in any traditional sense. Mother Superior has been replaced by the "director" or "animator" or by a "lead-ership team." Such language, it seems to me, confuses two dif-ferent realities, authority and leadership. The first is the attribute of an office; the second, the quality of a person. In some congregations the role of superior has been largely taken over by an appointed middle-management bureaucracy with tendencies to perpetuate itself.~4 One sister has written to me say-i. ng, "Our best leaders are in our cemetery." Without desiring to turn back the clock, I ask: Was there a resonance present in the traditional role of superior that has been lost? If past superiors were legalistic and overbearing, were the best of them not the true spiritual leaders that We still hanker for? Were they not per-sons who loved the congregation and its charism and knew how to stir hearts and shape a vision? Commitment mechanisms are making a comeback in the new congregations and in the new lay religious movements in Europe and Latin America. The Neo-catechumenate, for example, invites members into a "way" (camino), which comprises certain distinct steps, a kind of RCIA for Catholics, through which each mem-ber must pass before they are considered "formed Christians." Some of their techniques involve confrontation and mutual crit-icism. New seminaries using Neo-catechumenal techniques, all called Redemptoris Mater, are springing up in many parts of the world. The Sant' Egidio lay community of Rome invites its mem-bers to sung vespers and a commentary on the Scripture every evening. Many religious congregations use directed retreats and the renewed thirty-day Ignatian Exercises as a more personalized form of commitment mechanism. Other communities have intro-duced formal faith-sharing sessions, a kind of lectio divina in which members Ponder scripture passages or the constitutions together and then discuss them. Patricia Wittberg suggests that it might be profitable to explore the new religious movements to see how traditional Catholic frameworks for "religious virtuos-ity are being reworked, whether consciously or unconsciously. ¯ in order to address the assumptions and values of the late-20th-and early-21 st-century American culture." 1~ Review for Religiou~ Visibility, intentionality, a clear and transcendent goal, and some commitment mechanisms--these are the sociological aspects necessary to be effective as a group. For Wittberg, their lack has been the major reason why the new metaphor of religious as reli-gious prophets has not truly taken hold. Ithas failed to galvanize religious communities, she believes, because contemporary indi-vidualism and pluralism have been allowed to dominate religious life. As a good sociologist, she remains neutral with regard to the desirability of the new metaphor itself. I wonder, however, if this goes far enough. Are there not other and deeper reasons why the new metaphor of religious prophet has not really caught on? If prophecy means being on the cutting edge, the question remains: On the cutting edge of what? of politics? of social betterment? of all this, plus something more? I accept and welcome the model of prophecy, but I do question its content as expounded by many religious at the pres-ent time. I believe that the prophet must identify the deepest assumptions of the age and try to respond to its deepest hungers. Have we; aspiring religious prophets, truly engaged our culture at its deepest levels? This brings me to my third and last statement of direction. Third direction: Effective religious community demands a concept of prophecy that engages the surrounding culture at its deepest levels and responds to its most profound hungers. Wittherg and others believe that because of restorationism the 19th-century church and its many new religious orders did not come to grips with the problems of modernity. My question is: In the prophetic model as currently understood, do we do so even now? I concur with Nygren and Ukeritis, who say that those con-gregations will be revitalized that are "rooted in their relationship with God, and that, in a spirit of fidelity to their founding purpose and responsiveness to absolute human need, confront the current gap between Gospel and the culture.''16 1 agree with Chittister's formal principle that religious congregations must "release every-where in society, at every level, through every individual member, wherever the members are, and whatever separate things they do, the white heat of those congregations' charism in one great cor-porate mind and one easily seen communal heart.''17 We must engage the dominant first-world culture and do so as corporate .t~uly-August 1996 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life entities. We cannot run from it or remain indifferent. But, because we are religious, we must be careful to engage it at its deepest levels and not merely superficially. Historically, religious life flourished precisely when it was perceived as countering a culture's expressed values while answer-ing its deepest hungers. St. Francis of Assisi attracted followers, not because he was in conformity with his times, but because he challenged his times and in this way spoke to its heart of hearts. As we move toward the future, we must ask ourselves: What are the deepest hungers of our culture? Judith Merkle says that "the question which faces religious congregations today is what aspect of reality has the power to most deeply call us to life." 18. This is really the same question, for we are part of our culture, and our own deepest hungers will not differ much from those of the general culture. Some authors answer this question by insisting that we will be called to life by moving away from individualism and becoming a transformative community bent on creating a better world. In their eyes, the deepest need of contemporary culture is to achieve better rela-tionship with the poor, the oppressed, and the marginal; and this will be achieved by eradicating unjust social structures and oppos-ing oppressive ideologies like patriarchy, sexism, and racism. But is such a project sufficient? Is it at the center of religious prophecy? Is it where we address the deepest needs of our culture? Certainly, many of these ethical issues are important. They are a response to Gaudium et spes and in tune with the attempt of the-ologians to develop a more earth-centered interpretation of the kingdom. This new notion of the kingdom does not contradict the traditional view, but complements it. It asks us not to allow our desire for heaven to blind us to our duty to extirpate crass injus-tices in this world. In this view, the kingdom is not only a future heaven but the actual presence of God's power for transforming the world. So the religious project, the kingdom, has two loci. But, in many religious congregations, has the sociopolitical not become the solitary day-to-day focus? Is this not why the so-called prophetic model attracts so few first-world candidates? Have we not gone the route of liberal Protestantism, which in its social-gospel emphasis is fast losing ground to the Pentecostals and Evangelicals? In their nonparticipation and shifts of loyalty, are not lay Christians trying to tell us something? Review for Religious Can a religious congregation survive if its primary, all-inclu-sive goal is to solve complex and intractable social and moral issues? I doubt it. This is so especially when, in practice if not in theory, God is reduced to being a ground for human generativity or creativity in the social arena. Sociopolitical issues are impor-tant and can even be construed as religious in nature, but they are not at the center of the religious project. The center of the religious project is clear and simple: to affirm the existence and the love of God. This is true especially in our times, in which the major event has been the "death of God," the conviction that the idea of God is either meaningless or even detrimental. The first attitude comes from the side of science and the second from an existential-ist philosophy of life. The scientific picture as taught in many universities is one of a world that evolved by sheer chance from a big bang to con-scious, reflective beings. If through some. accident all conscious beings are destroyed, the Godless universe would be bereft of consciousness, and being would be a perpetual winter, In the sci-entistic worldview, sheer chance takes the place of God, and human life is voided of any objective meaning or purpose. Moral ¯ systems' become games contrived by human 'beings to bring about the maximal satisfaction of desires while avoiding conflict. The moral game is born of an enlightened egoism. For existentialists, following Nietzsche, religion must be ban-ished because it is repressive and life-denying and robs us of rad-ical freedom. It imposes an objective moral system that does not allow us to create values. We must choose between a life of free-dom and a God of enslavement. "Man dies at the touch of the Absolute," says Merleau-Ponty. One way in which existentialist atheism shows up in our culture is in its penchant for absolutiz-ing choice. No matter how dire the consequences, Americans will plump for choice on any issue. If there is no God, then each indi-vidual can be God, not only in general but at every moment and in every decision. This combination of scientific atheism and an existentialist absolutizing of individual power and choice has given rise, as Nietzsche predicted, to a sense of meaninglessness, to nihilism, to The center of the religious project is clear and simple: to affirm the existence and the love of God. July-August 1996 DiIanni ¯ Religious Life the banalizing of life, to the "unbearable lightness of being," The death of God has ushered in the death of man (and woman). Choosing and consuming, consuming and choosing, modern men and women are stranded on the anorexia-bulimia line--on the endless shuttle between fullness and emptiness." Is this all there is?" they ask. And many teenagers commit suicide or random murder, and others just keep on dancing. "Even more than athe-ism," says Walter Kasper, "the nihilism that flows from atheism is the real mark of the age."~9 This nihilism or voiding of meaning has its positive side. It is the modern expression of the hunger for God. It is in providing a lived response to this hunger that contemporary religious life will achieve its true prophetic role. Beyond all else, religious life must be a drumbeat proclaiming that God exists, that God's love for us through Jesus is unconditional, that it sustains us in suffering and continues beyond our death. The way for religious to engage the surrounding culture effectively is to witness that, far from crush-ing life, God alone gives it ultimate meaning and sense. I believe that at least two things must be retrieved by religious to help them achieve this truly religious end: interiority and, along .with it, an ardent desire to relate to the personal God who transcends the world. By interiorityI mean a new emphasis on the life of prayer and reflection and on being teachers of the spiritual life. Pierre Hadot, a French historian of philosophy, is influencing sophisticated the-ologians like David Tracy into bringing spirituality into the cen-ter of theology. He criticizes modern theology for its sharp division between theory and spiritual practice. Hadot insists that, unlike people of earlier times and of non-Western cultures, we Western moderns have not allowed theology to express itself in spiritual exercises. The old Stoics had spiritual exercises for com-ing into contact with the Logos, and this was one reason why Simone Weil loved the Stoics. The modern segmenting of the-ology and praxis--seen, for example, in the dropping of devo-tions since Vatican II--is one reason for the deep hunger for spirituality today. R~ligious must once again emphasize growth in personal holiness and speak to people about their experience of prayer, about their interior praxis with God. Our formation pro-grams must not fail to impart a sense that each person has 'a spir-itual life in which it is possible to make progress through prayer. Joan Chittister is correct when she insists that we cannot "confuse work with prayer, good intentions with the spiritual life:''2° Review for Religious We must regain a sense of the personal God who transcends the world, but with whom we can enter into intimate union. In a 1989 America article I spoke of our need to love God as well as our neighbor and said that the love of God cannot be totally expressed through neighbor love, Several weeks later, in a letter to the edi-tor, J. Robert Hilbert sJ wrote that "one must be careful" in draw-ing a distinction between love of God and love of neighbor. "God," he says, "is not an 'other' in the sense of a categorical object to be spoken of in parallel with other objects of my knowl-edge and love. It is rather precisely in God's transcendentality as the absolute Other that love of God and love of neighbor come together in a unique and necessary oneness.''2~ I do not know if such talk of God as the "absolute Other" does the job of maintaining the necessary balance between the immanence and transcendence of God. I am sure, however, that in their return to spirituality contemporary Christians are rebelling against attempts to blur the distinction between the love of God and the love of neighbor, even though both are absolutely necesshry and intimately intertwined. Classically God has been conceived of as higher than and dis-tinct from the world, a Creator who does not need us but who loves us even beyond our death and asks us to requite that love. In ~our effort to rethink the notion of God in a way acceptable to modernity, we must avoid the danger of turning God into some underlying catalyst for our doing :good, an ~lan vital or wisdom force. In the last thirty years, so many theologians liberationists, feminists, process theologians, all striving to develop an idea of a God who is intrinsic to our lives--may have fallen into just this trap, Have they not carried too far the idea that we are God's project for social betterment, that in some Hegelian way the Absolute is working through our creativity to achieve a world of peace and justice? I have two problems with the current political and this-worldly interpretations of the kingdom. The first is with the type of pol-itics it generally espouses, and the second with the primacy of politics itself. ¯ First, does not the particular type of politics espoused by some religious carry a great deal of questionable ideological baggage? A "politically correct" reading is .given to work with the poor and oppressed. The abortion question is often studiously avoided. Feminist publications of the most radical sort are taken seriously. 3~uly-August 1996 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life Environmentalism is fast becoming a new religion among some religious, while they fail to realize that it has become extremely big business filling many already fat pockets. A listening ear is not lent to the arguments of those who distinguish between good and bad ways of helping the poor, arguments presented in thoughtful books like Marvin Olasky's Tragedy of American Compassion. And yet anybody who is truly concerned about the poor should also be attentive to the ways in which, with the best of motives, we may be locking them into a perpetual victimhood. But, beyond these particular issues, I think there is an overem-phasis on the sociopolitical in general. Social justice and the fos-tering of the earthly kingdom is not the whole gospel nor even the center of it. The hunger for another justice beyond social justice is never altogether absent from the human heart, Social justice is important, of course, because it is the minimum, upon which an earthly Christian community can be built. When it is dramat-ically absent, we cannot remain passive. When it is dramatically absent for many years for great numbers of people, it can for a time even be a consuming passion. But we must be careful that the gospel not be totally reduced to it. For the fact remains that we die eventually and that no program of social justice exists that can prevent our death or provide meaning to our dying. Beyond social justice, the church must have something to say also, perhaps especially, to those who are about to conclude their earthly life.22 Most religious, no matter how radical their politics, do retain a strong belief in a transcendent and personal God and a faith in the resurrection of the dead. But often this does not appear to be the main focus of their life and action. Unsure of the existence~ of the devil, many religious are very adept at naming the demonic. They are sure that sin has changed and we now better understand what constitutes real sin and real virtue, Evil, they think, is not located primarily in personal sins of commission, but in 'political and economic structures and in the sins of omission that keep these structures in place. Along with this perception, they have the conviction that the new technological possibilities available to us bring new responsibilities. Thus, they are fond of repeating that, since it is now possible for the first time to feed everyone, we have a special duty to create political structures and delivery sys-tems to implement this possibility. There is doubtless much to be said in favor of this, but, religiously speaking, it contains little that is new. Systemic and structural change is simply a new aspect Review for Religious that the perennial Christian demand of love of neighbor and of the stranger has assumed today. There remains the caveat of humility: that we not think we possess the answers to complex structural problems of politics and economics and that we curb the thought that we can ever build utopia on earth. In spite ofmy theoretical recognition of social justice's impor-tance and in spite of my practical efforts, past and present, in behalf of civil rights and of the poor, I believe that, from a reli-gious point of view, the social project remains ,superficial. Metaphysically, it is ultimately uninteresting. Cornel West, the brilliant black theology professor at Harvard Divinity School, often discusses social issues on Boston television. One day he was especially aroused and ended his speech with: "My brothers and sisters, this is the real important stuf!!" I shook my head and thought: Millions of people are dead and everyone is going to die. How can a theologian give such ultimate importance to this transient consciousness show we call the world? I am more in tune with Wilfrid Duffy SM, a priest-poet friend of mine afflicted with Parkinson's, whom I took to visit Michelangelo's statue of Moses in Rome. Disappointed with Moses' worldly appearance, he wrote a poem called "The Death of Moses" which ends with these words: ~ There was no dirge-- Just hard marble, noble features, Well-spaced fingers and toes, a certain strength, and some magnificence. But no d~sert; no voice of God, Unless I was not listen.ing. Perhaps it was I who had died. In the sociopolitical vision of the kingdom as practiced by some, where is the magic Of Bernini's sculpture of St. Teresa of Avila in rapture with God? What is the meaning of fasting, prayer, personal mortification, the Eucharist, confession, the drama of conversion and grace, justification, of Jacob wrestling with an angel? Interiority and mystery seem to get short shrift in the cur-rent version of the prophetic vision, as do original sin and personal sanctification and, yes, even ultimate salvation. Have we learned the Marxist lesson too well? Annette Pelletier IHM asks some poignant questions in this regard. "Have any., of the adaptations since Vatican II pro-claimed to the people of God the basic message that grace works? yuly-August 1996 Dilanni ¯ Reli~ousLife Politics, justice, and even morality cannot be the absolute center of the religious-life agenda. What else will or can ever change the present identity crisis of consecrated persons and their various congregations into an opportunity for reform, revitalization, and renewal if not the power of Mystery to fascinate but also to convert? Has this pri-mal experience of the Judeo-Christian tradition fallen by the way-side?" She continues: "Since Vatican II, adaptation and renewal have bridged the gap between the world and the consecrated life, but of what metal has that bridge been forged? Could it be that in bridging the gap an essential element of the identity of persons consecrated to God some-how got lost? What credible and clear evi-dence do religious women and men give to show that contact with the Holy somehow, mysteriously, does make a difference?" She quotes Richard Fragomeni saying that "the Christian tradition ultimately stands in silence before the operation of grace, the wonder of surprise, and the movement of a power beyond that of human consciousness and performance.''23 To be truly prophetic in the religious sense, religious life requires an integration of these two points of view about the king-dom-- the mystical-eschatological and the sociopsychological-- both of which have their roots in the gospel. The first rightly stresses the need for a mystical union with God' in this life and the hope for ultimate union with God hereafter. The first com-mandment, said Jesus, is that we love God with our whole heart. On the other hand, the Jesus we meet in prayer and in the Scriptures is the very embodiment of a God of compassion. Jesus reveals that Yahweh is not a "generic" God (Brueggemann), but a God who is interested in justice. To be involved with the God of Jesus is to be involved with the poor and the marginal of this world. We cannot be satisfied with urging them to suffer in the hope of an eternal reward in heaven. And yet secularism remains the deepest problem of the dom-inant culture, and it is at the center of the religious project. It is in grappling with this aspect of our culture that religious ,;rill truly and most deeply engage it. The deconstructionists are hard at work trying to be rid of all "metanarratives," and the pragma-tists are banishing any attempt to ground any~statement as true, A valedictorian at Harvard recently said: "At Harvard they teach Review for Religious you that you can hold any value you want, as long as you don't hold it to be true." Television is not far behind. It continues to dis-place the deep and serious with celebrity, with hi-tech gossip, and with the tolerance morality of the talk shows. I strongly applaud Joan Chittister's suggestion that we must be corporately visible, but the principal goals she sets--educating the world about °the new social questions of the age, about sexism, racism, the environment, and multiculturalism, about the whole agenda of political correctness--all remain at the level of politics and sometimes debatable politics. There is justice and justice. Politics, justice, and even morality cannot be the absolute center of the religious-life agenda. But coming to grips with an atheis-tic secularism can, for it is a directly theological and religious issue. What is more countercultural, to say that we are going to save planet Earth or to say that Jesus rose from the dead and that this makes all the difference? Which answers our deepest and most ultimate concerns? Which, metaphysically speaking, and which, from a religious point of view, is more interesting? Perhaps the last thirty years of religious life have been fruit-ful after all. With T.S. Eliot we may be able now to cease our exploration, return home, anddiscover the place for the first time. For in thirty years we have changed and perhaps only now have the wisdom to plan a renewal and a future. In our planning for the 21st century, can we not truly join action and contemplation, this-worldly love and the inystical-eschatological--envisage, that is, a close friendship between oneself as prophet and oneself as spouse of Christ? And can we not then send them both off on a splendid quest that we might call, according to the metaphor Qf Keel and Beaudry, "a journey together toward God"? Notes * See Patricia Wittberg, The Rise and Fall of Catholic Religious Orders (Albany: SUNY Press, 1994), p. 269. 2 See Albert DiIanni, Religious Life as Adventure (Staten Island: Alba House, 1994). 3 William R. Burrows's interview with David Tracy in America, 14 October 1995, p. 16. 4 See Martin R. Tripole, "The Roots of Faith-and-Justice: Critical Assessment," Review for Religious 54, no. 5 (September-October 1995): passim. s Joan Chittister, "Religious Life Today: Response to Kerkhofs," Religious Life Review 32, no. 4' (1993): 203. Dilanni ¯ Religious Life 6 Joan Chittister, "Religious Orders," National Catholic Reporter, 18 February 1994, p. 16. 7 Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. 239. s The findings of Nygren and Ukeritis also seem to confirm that the flight to democracy was not well thought out: "Assumption~ regarding the applicabilit~ of democratic forms of governance to religious life were made with little or no conversation regarding the appropriateness of this move. Centuries-old notions of obedience were dismissed and replaced with concepts such as ,listening to the Spirit' which, while challenging, lack a history of experience to provide a context that produces consis-tency in form or process" (David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States [FORUS] [Westport, Connecticut: Praeger, 1993], p. 240). 9 Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. 27. ,0 Edwin L. Keel SM and Susan Beaudry PM, "Journeying to God Together," Review for Religious 53, no. 3 (May-June 1994): 441. 1, See Elizabeth McDonough, "The Past Is Prologue: Quid Agis?" Review for Religious 51, no. 1 (January-February 1992): 82, and also Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. 193. ,2Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. 256. 13 See Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. xi. 14On developments of this sort, see Elizabeth McDonough, "Beyond the Liberal Model: Quo Vadis?" Review for Religious 50, no. 2 (March- April 1991), pp. 172-173 and 176-177, and her "Past Is Prologue," pp. 79- 82. In the latter article she is using material from Patricia Wittberg, Creating a Future for Religious Life (New York: Paulist Press, 1991). ,s Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. 270. ,6 .Nygren and Ukeritis, FORUS, p. 244. ,7 Chittister, "Religious Orders," p. 16. 18 Judith A. Merkel, Committed by Choice (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1992), p. 54. ,9 Walter Kasper, The God of Jesus Christ (New York: Crossroad, 1986), p. ll. 20 Chittister, "Religious Orders," p. 17. 2,America, 2 September 1989, p. 127. 22 It is unjust to ask some to struggle to the death for a future utopia to be enjoyed only by others in the future. Even the Marxist philosopher Theodore Adorno was exercised by this problem and insisted that there must also be a justice for the dead. 23 Annette M. Pelletier, "Fascination with the Holy--and Conversion," Review for Religious 53, no. 4 (July-August 1994): 562-563,565. Review for Religious JANET MALONE Internationality: ConsciousnessRaising and Conversion nternationality in religious congregations has a price, and .l. congregations that in recent years have called themselves inter-national are now in the various stages of conversion requisite to being purposefully international or what Catherine Harmer has called intentionally international. At this point it is important for them to keep their eyes open to internationality's richness, for the changes and conversion that are requisite to being truly interna-tional bring the difficulties--the price--very much to the fore. Ways of Coping Change can be scary, and becoming an international congre-gation has been quite difficult for many communities, to the point where certain resistances have surfaced as ways of coping with this new "crisis." In working with such congregations, I have noted various ways of coping. Some groups want to downplay the full connotation of internationality in its mission sense of supra-nationality even when in fact, with acceptance and incorporation of some different cultures and nationalities, a new congregational culture has already come into being that, in many ways, goes well beyond being the mere sum of its older and newer parts. Other congregations that have called themselves international by reason of their physical expansion into other nations now deal Janet Malone CND wrote "Coming Home: The Journey Within" for our May-June 1995 issue. Her address is 24-1002 Dufferin Avenue; Saskatoon, Saskatchewan; S7H 2C1 Canada. ~uly-August 1996 Malone ¯ Internationality with subtle and varying aspects of resistance throughout their congregations. In still other congregations, the resistance has been quite subtle, with efforts by some members to have their congregations refer to themselves, not as "international," but as "multicultural" or "intercultural" or as congregations "with an international character." Some congregations seem ready to rescind the appellation of internationality because of the cost in terms of both personal and corporate conversion. They would justify this retrograde step by emphasizing that they are not really international because they are present in only.a few other nations. On the other hand, if a congregation purposefully decides to become or to remain an international one, it most likely must go through, both personally and corporately, an actual step-by-step process of conversion. This involves consciousness raising. The Process of Consciousness Rai sing In this article I want to highlight the different stages of con-sciousness raising. Being consciously aware of these stages can help change "hearts of stone to hearts of flesh" (Ez 36:26) in the process of becoming purposefully international. In my January- February 1992 article "Internationality--At What Price?" I spoke about conversion; herein I shall elaborate on what I now see as the intermediate steps of consciousness raising in the conversion process. Sometimes the dominant culture is replaced by another group's culture with the result that the oppressed become the oppressor. When that happens, a congregation--using power in a way that creates scarcity, and marginalization--plays'the game of musical chairs. Whether the oppression is conscious or not, those with power marginalize others and continue the injustice. It is normal for there to be resistances, biases, prejudices, and stereotypes as a congregation becomes truly international, for various members are at different stages of consciousness awareness (and conversion) in their own. enculturation, acculturation, and inculturation. It has been my experience in worki.'ng with inter-national groups that resistance to change in the form of preju-dices and stereotypes comes from very sincere people who feel threatened by the unknown and wonder how the proposed changes will affect them. Like most things in life, consciousness Review for Religious raising does not happen all at once. Rather, it is a process of awareness and evaluation of hitherto unperceived injustices that preclude the changes necessary for conversion. The rhythm of consciousness raising is different for different individuals, and it holds a particular challenge for those in lead-ership roles in a congregation. These need to be somewhat com-fortable with the unknown, with taking risks. Only then can they encourage the members to take some requisite steps toward becoming comfortable with the attitudinal and structural changes that can eliminate subtle oppressions of which many members may be quite unaware. In so doing, they model equality and mutuality. Consciousness raising he.lps to bring about real change in the attitudes of individuals and in congregational structures that reflect the dominant culture. Consciousness raising gradually brings a group to an honest evaluation of the ways of being and doing in the group that, in many instances, are distinctive of the domi-nant, founding group. Such an evaluation can then lead to the necessary changes in praxis. Stages of Consciousness Raising Adapting the work of Gaylor and Fitzpatrick, I will now high-light six differeht stages of consciousness raising in congregations becoming purposefully international. Not linear, these six stages in consciousness raising tend to overlap in a helical fashion. The first stage, the "no big deal" stage, is characterized by per-plexity and sometimes denial that there is a problem, This can be experienced by both sides of the internationality challenge: those who are the majority and see no oppression whatsoever and those who--unaware of it or only minimally aware--are the receivers of such oppression. Thus, there can be outright denial of the injustice and dismissal of any claims of it or a trivializa-tion of the injustice. For example, in a mixed-language group where there is "whisper" translation, people in the majority group may interrupt a minority speaker in midsentence and demand immediate translation. On the other hand, members of the major-ity group may carry on a full conversation among themselves while translation is being provided for the minority group. Members of a majority find it difficult to see this kind of problem even when it is pointed out. The minority group may see this as ,the way things have always been and display a certain ffuly-August 1996 Malone ¯ Internationality passivity or resignation. In both instances there is no awareness or almost none in this "~no big deal" stage. If, however, a congrega-tion is really serious about its internationality, then each language group, regardless of numbers, deserves a sacred space to under-stand and be understood. At this stage, discrepancies between the majority's demands and the needs of the minority can be trivialized by the majority with such statements as "Oh, it wasn't intentional" and by the minority with "They don't mean to be rude." In both instances there is no consciousness or only a minimal awareness of injustices and oppression, subtle or otherwise. The second, "eye-opening" stage occurs when a member of either group, the majority or the minority, experiences such types of oppression with some discomfort. Itis very easy here to revert back to the "no big deal" stage, but at .this second stage both groups can see previously status-quo experiences in a new light. Consciousness is being raised; as Ecclesiastes 3 observes, the "sea-son" for it has come. Experiences that were seen as normal are now evaluated some-what differently. Still, this evaluation is fragile. If, as a member of the dominant group, I am not much impressed by this new eval-uation, then I. may become ambivalent and protective of the sta-res quo. If I am a member of the minority group, I may not speak out on an injustice for fear of being rejectedand labeled a trou-blemaker. Members of the majority may realize for the first time that they refer to a minority group from a developing nation as "cute" and "innocent," with "so much to learn." In this stage they come to a deeper insight into what they are really saying. The third, "on the fence" stage is that point where, although: individuals or groups in an international congregation now se,e unequivocally the injustices within the congregation towards cer-tain groups, they still do not have the courage to "walk their talk." They still try to curry favor with both sides. Being "on the fence," they maneuver between the two sides without taking a firm stand on the side of the oppressed. Although it is important to see both sides of any situation, still it is critical at certain times to get "off: the fence." The warn-ing of Jesus about being lukewarm resounds here. For example, in a congregation which has called itself international, a particular group lobbies to change that term to something like intercultural because it thinks, that will solve the discontent of some of the Review for Religious majority group. Without a critical analysis of the issues involved, many congregation members may stay "on the fence" and not try to explore possible resistances underneath. The fourth, "coming home" stage of consciousness raising is that point where an individual or a group in the international congregation moves to making public various convictions on issues integral to internationality. It is the point where the personal convictions expressed heretofore only in safe, private spaces are now shared in more public places within the congregation, although still in rather circumspect ways. This stage is both diffi-cult and challenging because "the medium becomes the message." For example, a per-son or a group may submit to the congre~ gational leadership a proposal for specific structural changes to enhance the congre-gation's internationality. The private has become public, but not as yet within the public forum of a chapter or assembly of the total congregation. The fifth, "passion" stage of conscious-ness raising is a .more integrated stage involving both head and heart. Persons immediately come to mind who have had a passion for certain truths: "I have a dream."; "Ask not what your country can do for you."; "Go and gather up the drops of blood . " This stage challenges individuals and groups to lace their reasoned and dispassionate discourse with some emotion, such as anger at instances of oppression and injustice. When expressed construc-tively and nonviolently, such anger can be an energy and .catalyst for change. For example, at international meetings where an impasse has been reached because of fears and resistances, a spe-cial meeting might be called to get at these fears and blocks to any change. The danger here can be that the only interventions rec-ognized in the group are those which focus solely on "defini-tions," "constitutions," and "canon law." The challenge is to get underneath the words to the energy of the emotions. Only when the stories of personal experiences around such feelings are shared is there any movement in the group toward some deeper con-scious awareness. Members of the majority may realize that they refer to a minority group from a developing nation as "cute" and "innocent," with "so much to learn." Malone ¯ Internationality Patience and waiting are also critically important in this stage; planting the seeds of change and waiting for them to blossom is what being prophetic is all about. It is the process of going from "mine" to "ours." For example, an important component of being international is to have an international communications office and journal, both of which are grassroots and decentralized so that inculturation can gradually occur from the bottom up. It may take some time for that dream to move from being "mine" to "ours" in an international group because of many different variables, some of which may be subtle efforts to hold on to the status quo. The sixth and last stage, "acceptance/appropriation/incorpora-tion," is the crux of consciousness raising. It is that season in the life of a congregation where being international is not just the decision of a chapter or decision-making body. Rather, it is the season where internationality is the lived reality in the group. Such acceptance/appropriation/incorporation leads to a sense of equality and mutuality in the congregation and is reflected in both personal and corporate attitudinal and structural changes. Personal Conversion Having surveyed the stages of consciousness raising about biases, prejudices, stereotypes, and resultant injustices and oppres-sion, we now explore their implications for conversion. Personal conversion may take many different shapes including intellectual, moral, and spiritual conversion. Although conversion, like con-sciousness raising, is not a linear process but in many ways a gift of the grace of G6d, yet this helical process has some distinct aspects. Intellectual conversion interfaces directly with the stages of consciousness raising. It is a seeing with new eyes that continuing to support or collude with oppressive structures and ways of being in one's congregation is wrong. Now morally aware of behaviors in these matters that are actually sinful, the members of the dom-inant group must become morally aware also of their passivity in not speaking out about an ol6pressive status quo. An attitudinal shift must occur that moves them to do something about the injus-tice, be that something ever so small in the large scale of things. When people perceive the general pattern of increased aware-ness and its call for moral conversion, they may notice the :pattern in groups not only where they oppress others but also where oth- Review for Religious ers oppress them. They should notice, too, that it is very easy for the oppressed to become the oppressors in other circumstances. Unless there is a conscious intent to break the cycle of oppression, ¯ it is likely to continue. Spiritual conversion calls members of a congregation to live the gospel in .a radical way, such that there can be true love, for-giveness, and reconciliation as the different ways of oppressing come to light. Such conversion is countercultural when there is reconciliation and not revenge. "Love is patient, kind, not jealous, does not seek its own interests, is not quick-tempered, and does not brood over injury. It does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with.the truth" (1 Co 13:4-6). Corporate Conversion Corporate conversion requires changes within the organiza-tional structures of the congregation so thfit the sense Of mutuality and equality will exist both in word and in the lived praxis. Catherine Harmer details the structural changes required to become intentionally international. These changes are summa-rized here: 1. Each of the different provinces/regions/cultural entities in a congregation has the necessary autonomy to make local decisions regarding ministry choices, personnel changes, formation, and finances. 2. The leadership in each province/region/area should normally be made up of the people of that country. 3. International congregational committees and task forces must include representatives from all areas. 4. General chapters must also be representative of the total congregation not bnly in attendance but also in plan-ning and staff. 5. Provision must be made to accommodate diverse lan-guage groups at such meetings. 6. The members of the central administration of the con-gregation must reflect its internationality. 7. The founding group should eventually cease to domi-nate in all aspects of the congregational life. Conclusion Some congregations, ~n their beginnings, were not founded as international groups.~ In recent years they may have called July-August 1996 Malone * Internationali~ themselves international because of their "physical" expansion to different nations. They go through birthpangs when this acci-dental internationality becomes a purposeful or intentional inter-nationality. This article has affirmed that various resistances to the new and the temptation to go back to the "good old days" are a nor~ mal part of such a new birth. This process, for both personal and corporate conversion, has been clarified by the application of Gaylor and Fitzpatrick's stages of consciousness raising to the matter of becoming a truly international congregation. References Jean Alvarez. "Prejudice in Religious Congregations." Human Development, Winter 1983. Christine C. Gaylor and Annelle Fitzpatrick. "The Stages of Consciousness Raising." Human Development, Fall 1987. Catherine Harmer. "Internationality: Intentional or Accidental." Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 111-118. Janet Malone. "Internationality--At What Price?" Review for Religious 51, no. 1 (January-February 1992): 109-117. Dorcas Surely, there was time to miss what might be missed: garments made, acts of charity attested to by friends and neighbors, the complexities of a simple style, feel of wool well-woven, the breathless moment prior to a newborn's angry cry. Then, did you hesitate at all on that gruff apostle's word before, gazelle-like (how else), you leapt from there to here? Leonar~i Cochran OP Review for Religious FINIAN McGINN Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community ~nheaot happens when a community evolves from a homoge- us ethnic group to a heterogeneous ethnic group? Do the inner structures of the group change? Do they have to change; if so, how far? How can we change structures to meet the multi-cultural needs of the members? Do we have any models of recent attempts toward multiculturalization of institutions? With more Hispanic and southeast Asian membership in U.S. religious com-munities, what are the areas of greatest tension? How do we pre-pare our members for a multicultural institution? Is there a different type of preparation for the older members than for the younger? Does the same phenomenon happen to public educational institu-tions, businesses, and large corporations? These are but a few of the issues confronting provincials in the United States as they realize that they have been writing more letters in Spanish to their members than those of the previous administration and that they see more and more Vietnamese-- survivors of the fall of Saigon in 1975--in their houses of forma-tion. What has happened to the province we entered in the 1950s? At that time most of us were German, Italian, Polish, and Irish-- predominantly Westerners of European descent. Now, in the mid 1990s, we have become pluralistic, much more ethnically diverse, and the old ways of doing things have begun to change. As ministers of the local :church, most of us have witnessed our parishes and other apostolates change demographically, but we Finian McGinn OFM serves as vicar provincial for the Santa Barbara province of the Franciscan friars. His address is 1500 34th Avenue; Oakland, California 94601. ffuly-August 1996 McGinn * Toward Multiculturalizin~ a Reli~ous Communi~ have failed to look inward at our own religious communities. We have tried to prepare the people in our areas of work by inviting experts to give inservices and workshops to inform the parish-ioners about the new reality they face and to help them understand the new refugee and immigrant neighbors in their midst. We have applied multicultural solutions to our apostolates, but we have failed to prescribe them for our own religious communities. Immigrants and Refugees in General What are the differences of today? Ethnographers tell us that the Hispanic, the southeast Asian, and the African American have different ways of looking at the family, at community life, work, interpersonal relationships, prayer; recreation, decision making, and at many other issues which are essential to religious life. Even though 'we see out communities beginning to change demo-graphically we continue to do what we have been doing for years. Superiors are becoming aware that many of the strategies that were used before are no longer effective today because of the dif-ferent cultural values held by the members. Is there agreement on a common hierarchy of values? How does a superior take into consideration the Asian notion of "sav-ing face" in his or her decision making? If the culture affirms dependence and docility, how does one teach independence, assertiveness and confrontation? If the culture emphasizes family, interpersonal relationships with persons of the same culture and close-knit ingroupings, how does it embrace a larger community of muhiethnic members? How do different cultural groups view the vows; how do they see religious obedience? How much does a province change to accommodate the new cultures? .Multiculturalizing in the United States presents a rather polit-ically sticky problem. At present the United States offers a con-text where xenophobia is quite present. Historically we have gone from the melting pot model to a nonwelcoming model and from: "Come but assimilate quickly" to "Don't come and, in fact; you're not welcome!" Today movements against immigration are strong; foreigners are looked upon as inferior, their culture deficient, their language an obstacle to the acquisition of English. The province is aware of and perhaps may even pick up these negative attitudes by contagion or osmosis. Minority candidates who lived in the society where antiimmigration propaganda is prevalent Review for Religious approach the province wondering in what manner they will be received. R. Otheguy, commenting on the melting pot notion of the United States, remarks: "Because of their experience with racism in this country, many Hispanics have long ago given up hope of disappearing"--of blending into U.S. society. Baker takes the reasoning a step further and concludes that Hispanics found in multiculturalism a way to become at least somewhat American and keep their cultural values at the same time. He states, "Because of the [Hispanic's] history of being the victim of racism, the result may be the prevention of assimilation and integration with a consequent need to embrace some form of multicultural-ism for survival, security, status, and self-enhancement." Ethnic minorities themselves speak of additive biculturalism and bilingualism (Cummins, 1989). The melting pot paradigm has stressed a subtractive aspect: "Acquire English and lose your native language! Assimilate into U.S. society and forget your own culture; it's a deficit." Ethnographers and multiculturalists, on the other hand, speak of English-plus and acculturation to the host cul-ture. "ApprEciate your own language and learn English too. Take on the good U.S. cultural values, but don't lose your own culture in the process!" Most minorities lean toward maintenance of their language and culture as they adapt them-selves to the U.S. resettlement process (Lambert & Taylor). Paulo Freire describes the approach whereby the dominant culture wit-tingly or unwittingly attempts to impose the mainstream culture on new arrivals as "cultural invasion . a form of cultural domi-nation." Hopefully today's religious community advocates the addi-tive approach. As in many of these issues, however, it is much easier to speak about it than to do it. How do different cultural groups view the vows; how do they see religious obedience? How much does a province change to accommodate. the new cultures ? A Pluralistic Religious Community in Missionary Lands After some years in a missionary area, the superior general of a congregation in Rome insists that groups of a congregation 3~uly-August 1996 McGinn ¯ Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community from different nations in a foreign missionary country form one province. Each small group initially came to the mission country and received a portion of the mission territory within which to work. Members of the same ethnic group struggled with the lan-guage together, worked together, prayed together, evangelized the territory together, and accepted and formed native vocations. After some years this group and others in the missionary nation are asked to begin to form one entity together with the native religious of the area. This is an extremely difficult process and almost always poses a threat to both the foreigners and the native-born religious. The foreigners are no longer the majority in the group. They brought the faith, founded the missions, trained and even baptized and formed the native religious. In fact, they are still held in awe by the native religious members of the congregation. The foreigners are older and have been trained in a different the-ology of mission. The native religious, members of the host cul-ture, know the nation and its culture much better ,than do the foreigners. They have definite ideas on what should be done in their own country but are afraid to offend the foreigners who have given them the faith in the first place. This leads to a cultural impasse. To form the one entity from many disparate groups and to agree upon a common set of values is fraught with tension. In the United States In religious communities of the United States, however, usu-ally the majority membership of the institution is of white west-ern European stock; they are members of the host culture who have been living religious life for some time and have reached a consensus or implicit agreement upon certain common values of the institution. The tension arises as other multiethnic members become a sizeable minority, become visible, and begin to make their voices heard within the membership. How do the new mem-bers fit in? How does the larger group make room for them? What interior and exterior changes must take place to allow this to happen? How Other Institutions Meet the Challenge Businesses are learning new strategies to capitalize on inter-national markets and to improve communication with foreign Review for Religious nationals. Many public school districts, impacted by the influx of immigrants and refugees, offer classes, inservices and workshops on understanding cultural differences to relate with parents and members of the minority community and to enhance crosscul-tural communication. Business and education are presently publishing ma6~y books and articles dealing with multicultural differences and ways of adapting to and understanding people of other cultures. We, as religious, have not yet tapped these sources for our own com-munities. Business Since the Peace Corps in the early 1960s, many types of cross-cultural training programs have been designed to prepare indi-viduals for life in another culture. The goal of such programs is to help the business organization reduce and' prevent business losses and personal trauma. Harris and Moran. describe at least four models of training in cross-cultural orientation programs, ranging from lectures and readings about the culturel through simulation activities and sen-sitivity training to a cultural awareness model which seeks to develop one's ability to recognize ~cultural influence~ in personal values, behaviors, and cognitions. The goals of any training in cultural awareness are the following: a)to develop one's skill in diagnosing .difficulties in intercultural communication, b) to teach one when to suspend judgment when confronted with behavior which appears odd, c) to help one become aware of one's lack of sufficient knowledge of the other culture, and d) to increase one's motivation to learn more about the culture and the people. Public School Districts Public schools train cultural staff persons in cross cultural com-munication and hire. experts of the target 'cultural groups to present orientation and inservice to administrators and both certificated and classified personnel. These inservices and workshops are offered to both new and veteran teachers and staff. The host culture is compared to the immigrant or refugee culture. Culture brokers and the cultural specialists explain the areas of possible tension and/or misunderstanding; differing'values are examined, discussedL, 3-7-7- .~dy-Aug~tst 1996 McGinn ¯ Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community and understood. The goal of the process is twofold. It seeks to offer awareness and understanding of the newly arrived ethnic group and to examine the behavior of the teachers, administrators, and staff toward this group. James A. Banks distinguishes between two types of curricula in the schools: the manifest curriculum and the hidden curriculum. It is the hidden curriculum which is more cogent and which impo.ses the implicit norms and values of the school. Hopefully, the process of cultural awareness will shed some light on the hidden values and norms of the institution. Steps Religious Groups Are Taking By far one of the most multicultural communities in the United States and elsewhere is the international community of the Franciscan Missionaries of Mary. From its very foundation it has been international and universal in scope. It has no set policy governing ethnicity in the local house, yet from the beginning of the institute, its communities have been from different countries, ethnic groups, and cultures. Members of the institute have con-sistendy affirmed the intention that wherever possible, their com-munities be international in membership. Although they do not have formal courses in international living, the administration does try to provide the members with experiences locally, provincially, and at the general level that will expose them to the reality of living in a multicultural commu-nity. In recent years, two continuing formation programs have helped the members deepen this expression of international, mul-ticultural living in community: They also have regional meetings and meetings of administrators. "All of these gatherings, while addressing specific questions, give the opportunity for the sisters to get to know one another and to build up understanding and relationships. [The gatherings] deepen the sense of our being from many different places and our unity in diversity" (MOtte). It should be noted that in the gatherings the sisters use three linguae francae--French, Spanish, and English as official languages dur-ing the meetings. Maryknoll , Maryknoll has developed its Cross-Cultural Training Services for those who wish to discern theircall and prepare for cross- Review for Religious cultural ministry. A team of experts directs a month-long, inten-sive preparation, including a week retreat, for those planning to work abroad. The topics discussed during the training include culture and society, adjustment to a new culture, strategies for surviving culture and language shock, spirituality, inculturation, and discernment. As always, Maryknoll continues to offer a realistic prepara-tion to both religious and lay persons who find themselves called to a global ministry. Much of the content studied in the training sessions is vital and, with a little adaptation, can easily be used in workshops for religious institutions in the United States which are in the process of becoming multiethnic. Content of a Multicultural Awareness Program Should any province wish to set up a program to make itself more multicultural there shoul~t be certain key components of the content area. The actual training program could range from lectures, workshops to an institute, or any combination of the three. The speakers at the events should be experts in various areas of ethnic studies, preferably not members of the partici-pating religious group. In the world of language-minority students, J. Cummins speaks of certain "dimensions" necessary for the empowerment of minorities. The dimensions mentioned in Cummins's paradigm for empowerment touch the very center of multicultural living. They can easily be adapted from an educational institution to a reli-gious community. Cummins stresses four essential dimensions: language, collaboration, reciprocity, and advocacy. A. Language. The language issue is important. Theoreticians speak of language shock as. they describe, the early years of a person's resettlement in the United States. Bilingualists stress :the incor-poration of one's home language into the life of the school and its curriculum. The inclusion of the minority language and culture into the school has significant effects on the personality, attitudes, and the social and emotional well being of the students and their parents. The language issue in a religious community is also of impor-tance. The minority candidate must feel at ease in the language of the .host country. At times, both community and ministry err by failing to allow sufficient time f6r the acquisition of higher cog- 3~dy-.4ug~t 1996 McGinn * Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community The emotional drain of trying to live in a society that speaks one's second language is stressful for the minority religious. nitive and academic vocabulary to emerge in second-language acquisition, and, satisfied with the conversational idiom which we hear daily, tell the newly arrived religious, "There's a great need in the ministry for a Spanish-speaking religious. You know enough English now, get to work in a barrio parish. Fulfill our need in the Spanish-speaking ministry!" (The language learner, too, may become impatient with the slowness of the acquisition process and, in his or her impatience, opt to begin ministry sooner than he or she should.) This may be a great boon for the ministry of the province, but not for com-munity life. We have deprived the candi-date and the religious community of the depth and the wisdom which both can bring to community living. In this area it seems much better to err on the side of more English. rather than less. The'emotional drain of trying to live in a society that speaks one's second lan-guage is stressful for the minority religious. No matter how proficient one is in L2, there are times when learners simply shut down. Teachers, those who have studied abroad, and linguists describe the state of one who has paid attention all day to academic discourse in the weaker language and in the evening simply blanks out and is unable to comprehend even the simplest of phrases in L2. Larson and Smalley describe language shock as a component of culture shock that has profound effects on one who is trying to acquire the lan-guage of the host society. Rese~irchers point out that the disori-entation caused by language shock can induce a whole syndrome of rejection. The newly arrived must cope with the new stress and therefore must divert attention and energy from learning the second language. The learner begins to reject speakers of the tar-get language. These speakers become the source of his or her dis-orientation and, therefore, he or she has difficulty forming identifications necessary to learn the language of the host coun-try. The problem becomes even more complex if the learner per-ceives, erroneously or otherwise, that the speakers of the target language reject the learner and his or her culture .and language. Language has many paradoxical uses. Instead of opening doors, it can close them. It can,; at times, be used as a wall, or a Revlew for Religious defense to unite a group or to keep others out. Knowingly or unknowningly, fluently bilingual speakers will use the language which other members of the community do not understand to keep them out of the circle or to provide a feeling of belonging for themselves. Unless one knows the linguistic code--he or she can-not enter the inner circle. Opportunities to study the languages of the members of the community should also be offered and even encouraged for the majority members of the religious congregation. Bialystok and Hakuta treat the types of motivation in second-language learning and come to the conclusion that few of us learn a second lan-guage as an end in itself. Most of us learn it "to gain access, through verbal interaction, to cultural dealings with people who lay claim to that language." As most of us can read a language better than we can speak it, community liturgies and prayer of the hours could be said on alternate days in either language if the members of the local com-munity were in the process of~becoming bilingual. Fine language courses with new, nonthreatening and nonbelittling methodol-ogy are offered in practically every large city of the country. Corollary 1. Spending the time and energy in the attempt to learn a language used by a large number of the religious congregation (that of the host country and that of the minority cultures) is a good investment by the province in community life. B. Collaboration. Cummins claims that where the culture of the family is not given status in the school and communities and parents are kept powerless, then inferiority and lack of school progress may result. When there is parental collaboration with the teacher there is usually success. Religious communities at times tend to take the culture of origin of the member for granted and in no way envision it as a factor in the religious formation of the individual. We tend to think that their mother and dad are like our mother and dad and that their home is like our home. With the advent of people from many diverse areas of the world, the assumption no longer works if it ever did. The following is an example from education of this type of reasoning. A successful middle-school teacher recently remarked: "I just assumed that their home was like my home and for two years in middle school I demanded at least thirty minutes of written homework. Then I visited one of the homes. It was a revelation. ~dy-August 1996 McGinn ¯ Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community The.home and local community of the culturally different are areas that the religious province cannot afford to ignore. In a two-bedroom apartment three families were living (around 16 individuals). There was no quiet space, very lit.de furniture, and little ones were scurrying all around. If any homework could be done, it would be done at the kitchen-table, the only table in the home. This would be done while the five elders were watching television at the same time in the same room. I began to realize that doing homework in'a home such as that one was notan easy task. The example was not characteristic of only one family but of the vast majority of families of Hmong students at that school." Awareness of the culture and the val-ues of the minority religious is essential. Conchita Delgado-Gaitan has many stud-ies that analyze learning experiences in the home and parental strategies used to impart knowledge and values to the chil-dren. She compared the home strategies with those used by the school of the dom-inant culture to discover convergence or dissonance. She studied the linkage between the culture of the home and that of the school. The home and local community of the culturally different are areas that the religious province cannot afford to ignore. Culture shock, discussed in most cultural orientation work-shops, is not as easily remedied as one might think. This psychic ~hock is the anxiety which results from the disorientation encoun-tered upon entering a new culture. Larson and Smalley describe how essential characteristics of good mental health are often lost just by moving into a new culture. Extreme symptoms of culture shock may pass relatively quickly as ways of coping with the new environment are acquired. More subtle problems, however, may persist and produce stress which can last for years. Paul Pedersen, in his recent book, A Handbook for Developing Multicultural Awareness, confirms that culture shock is likely to last over the visitor's entire stay in an unfamiliar culture, reappear in a variety of forms, and not be limited to an initial adjustment. Spindler and Spindler, of Stanford University, have been train-ing people in ethnographic evaluation of educational environ, ments for many years. Cultural therapy, the term the ,Spindlers use to describe a procedure of reflective, cross-cultural analysis of Review for Religious individuals of different cultures through personal encounters, has become quite famous. The aim of the therapy is to promote cross cultural and intracultural behavioral understanding. The process involves open dialogue between people of different cultures (teacher and student or a member of the host culture and one of the cultural minority). It seeks to reveal to the educator and to the minority student unconscious biases and cultural ethnocentrism. Trueba shows how culture shock experienced by the culturally diverse can have an effect on the members of the host culture, and he observes: "Therefore, it is extremely important for teach-ers to realize that they are experiencing cultural shock when they try to function effectively with children who do not share their values and expectations. Academic success requires, then, that both teachers and students build learning environments in which success is possible for both." How can we make the local reli-gious communities places which assure success and fairness for all members of whatever culture? With each of the four dimensions paternalism on the part of the member of the host culture is a temptation, Among members of the religious institute, the environment should be one of equal-ity. A paternalistic attitude in this process would promote a depen-dency which would impede empowerment and fail to promote success. On the other hand, members of the religious commu-nity who have lived in other countries and those who have strug-gled to acquire another language--of host country or of the language minority--are equipped to act as culture brokers and even cultural therapists in helping to make the new culture more familiar and less strange and in creating an atmosphere which insures fairness and success. Corollary 2. Awareness of the new cultures in the religious community should be encouraged. Study of one's own culture and that of other members of the community should be pro-moted. Appreciation of the ethnic diversity of the community by listening and telling stories without ethnocentric bias and judgment will hopefully develop respect for the legitimate cultural differences of the religious community. C. Reciprocity. Cummi~as's third dimension stresses the fact that the language minority student must not simply receive the new knowledge passively but there should be a reciprocal inter-action, a dialogue in which the minority students bring their rich-ness to the process. 3n~uly-August 1996 McGinn ¯ Toward Multicultu~alizing a Religious Community In a religious community this type of sharing appears to be difficult to attain. It demands that those who have lived in the host country all their lives and have been in the religious com-munity for many more years must begin to listen to the new ones and look at the goals and mission of the congregation from their perspective. It requires a change of attitude. In a nonjudgmental manner, one can begin to act as an ethnographer and discover new realities and appreciate the vibrant faith and the beauty in approaches to the sacred which have not been part of one's own history. To do this one must allow a forum for the culturally dif-ferent and listen to them with respect. They become the teachers. Bilingual members and members who have lived in mission lands are an asset to the religious community. Religious of diverse cultures are at different levels of acculturation, and the bilingual and former missionary members of the community are equipped to act as bridge makers in opening the dialogue between the older religious of the host country and those who are culturally diverse. Corollary 3. Reciprocity is a step toward healing the rem-nants of cultural shock. "I struggle to understand and appre-ciate the minority religious' culture, language, approach to the divine, family, and community, and the newly arrived struggle to appreciate my culture, language, approach to the divine, family, and community." ~Many demands are involved in the process, but the struggle leads to mutual respect and understanding. D. Advocacy. In a school setting, Cummins insists that the majority teachers become advocates for the language minority children. Many of the instruments used in the evaluation of minor-ity students are based and standardized on the language of the majority population, and it is often easy to detect types of insti-tutionalized racism in the school and even in the hidden curric-ula. Therefore, the minority student needs someone who is able to open doors, give advice, and accompany him or her in situations which involve power and status relationships between dominant and dominated groups at different levels of a society. When we apply this to a religious community, we can begin to consider the customs of the congregation and its particular provincial statutes to discover cultural differences which could render harmonious living difficult. Advocacy involves seeing that house libraries have sufficient current books and periodicals in the mother tongue and insisting upon minority representation at Review for Religious various levels of formation and administration even to the actual selection of superiors who are open, tolerant and appreciative of other cultures represented in the community. Benjamin Schwarz states: "Dissatisfied minorities want, at a minimum, a real voice in determining their future--but a real voice for the minority means real sacrifice for the majority." Corollary. 4. Those who enjoy acceptance in the dominant society and who are comfortable with the everyday life in the religious community spontaneously offer direction and knowledgeable advocacy. They also help to provide a voice for the ethnic minority members of the community. Toward Multiculturalization Developing multicultural awareness in a community requires many changes. Pedersen concludes his work for cross-cultural counselors by stating that the many changes involved "will pro-duce a widening ripple effect as these changes bring about other changes." He continues: "We are moving toward a future that requires us to understand persons who are different from our-selves, whatever our culture might be. Developing multicultural awareness is the strategy for our survival as well as our growth in meeting the diverse needs of a multicultural global village." In a recent letter to all the friars, Herman Schaluck the gen-eral of the Order of Friars Minor, told his brothers that the new projects which the order has embarked upon in Africa, Thailand, and the former Soviet Union were intentionally international and multicultural in makeup to sign a new way of thinking. In spite of the difficulties inherent in the understanding of an international, multicultural fraternity, the order seeks this new quality of liv-ing together. The general explains: "Paul insistently states (Ga 6) that it is not a matter of being Jews or pagans, of being cir-cumcised or uncircumcised, but of being a 'new creature.' Life in an international [multicultural] fraternity is therefore not some-thing of secondary importance or a question of strategic maneu-vering: it is rather already evangelization itself by way of example." An Apostolic Challenge We considered a number of apparently hypothetical ques-tions about a religious community evolving from a homogeneous to a heterogeneous grouping. What happens? What changes ~uly-August 1996 McGinn ¯ Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community occur? Can it be done? Suppose we did design workshops and planning sessions on cross-cultural awareness for the total com-munity from the insights offered by education, business, and the training programs~for foreign missionaries. Suppose, to.o, we set up processes within the provincial structures for dialogue, reciprocity, and advocacy. Would the program be successful? Certainly many changes would occur, and change is almost always tension-filled and difficult to accept. However, it would be quite exciting to embark upon such a journey. It would demand much tolerance, patience, and charity on the part of the total member-ship to ensure that the program would succeed. What a sign of forgiveness, openness, trust, and conversion such a religious com-munity could offer the world around it. The approach would cer-tainly be countercultural. Only the members themselves know whether they are willing to do this. Perhaps a religious community is the only institution which can meet this challenge. I have spent many years trying to con-vince public schools, public school districts, and even welfare departments to become more multicultural but to no avail. Conversion, forgiveness, sacrifice, patience, understanding, and charity are woven into the very fabric of religious life. These are the same virtues required to make an institution multicultural. We religious are called to be a sign. Perhaps we Can be a sign to U.S. society that actually e pluribus unum is realizable. Bibliography Baker, C. Foundations of Bilingt~.al Education and Bilingualism. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters, 1993. Banks, J.A., and McGee Banks, C.A., eds. Multicultural Education. Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 1989. Bialystok, E., and Hakuta, K. In Other Words. New York: Basic Books, 1994. Cummins, J. Empowering Minority Students. Sacramento: CABE, 1989. Delgado-Gaitan, C. "Traditions and Transitions in the Learning Process of Mexican Children: A Ethnographic View." In Spindler, G. and L. (eds.) Interpretive Ethnography of Education: At Home and Abroad. Hillsdale: Laurence Erlbaum, 1987a. Delgado-Gaitan, C. "Parent Perceptions of School: Supportive Environments for Children." In Trueba, H. (ed.) Success or Failure? Learning and the Language Minority Student. Cambridge: Harper and Row, 1987b. Review for Religious Delgado-Gaitan, C~, and' Trueba, H. Crossing Cultural Borders: Education for Immigrant Families in America. New York: Falmer, 1991. Freire, P. Pedagogy of the Oppressed. New York: Seabury, 1970. Freire, P. The Politics of Education. Boston: Bergin and Garvey, 1985. Hanley, K., csj. Cross Cultural Training Services. Maryknoll, New York, Harr.is, ER., and Moran, R.T. Managing Cultural Differences. Houston: Gulf Publishing, 1991. Lambert, W.E., and Taylor, D.M. Coping with Cultural and Racial Diversi~y in Urban America. New York: Praeger, 1990. Larson, D.N., and Smalley,'W.A. Becoming Bilinguak A Guide to Learning Language. California: William Carey Library, 1972. Law, E.H.E The VVolf Shall Dwell with the Lamb. St. Louis: Chalice Press, 1993. Motte, personal correspondence, 1995. Otheguy, R. "Thinking about Bilingual Education: A Critical Appraisal." Harvard Educatiorial Review 52 (3), 1982. Pedersen, P. A Handbook for Developing Multicultural Awareness: Alexandria: A~. erican CounselingAssociation, 1994. Schaluck, H., OFM. "On the Way Towards a New Era," May 8. Prot. 083!.19. S'chwarz, B. "The Diversity Myth: America's Leading Export." The Atlantic Monthly 275 (5), 1985. Spindler, G., and Spindler, L., eds. Pathways to Cultural Awareness. Thousand Oaks: Sage, 1994. Trueba, H.T., Jacobs, L., and Kirton, E. Cultural Conflict and Adaptation: The Case of Hmong Children in American Society. New York: Falmer, 1990. JUST PUBLISHED-- The Best of the Review - 5 The Church and 'Consecrated Life (see insert at back of book for ordering) "At a time when hope for religious life and its future is once again on the rise, the articles in this book offer an exceptional and much needed panorama of the critical issues of renewal faced by contemporary men and women religious. Elizabeth McDonough and David Fleming have done us an enormous favor in bringing together the Best of the Review in this area. I recommend this book enthusiastically; its authors take us another step along the journey to that future for religious life for which we all long." --Se~nSammon FMS Vicar General Marist Brothers, Rome 3~uly-August 1996 new life ROBERT E MALONEY It's Summer! A Letter to Young Religious J My dear brothers and sisters, It is wonderful to be young. At least, most of us who have grown older think so! Young adulthood is the summer of life; autumn and winter follow only later. In the vibrant years of youth, heart, respiration, and physical strength are at their peak efficiency. Our inner drives, too, are fully alive: our quest for meaning, our longing for deeper rela-tionships, our yearning to create a better future. I am writ-ing today to encourage you who are young to enjoy, and use well, the gifts of this summertimh in your life. Youth has many striking advantages. As the superior general of a community, I often see these in the lives of young religious, both men and women. Let me describe some of them briefly. First, youth has drive and enthusiasm. It is good to rejoice in youth's vigor. I can remember a period in my life when I could interview ~tudents all day long, prepar.e classes until late at night, be up again at five the next morning for prayer and the Eucharist, and then teach a full schedule. The day arrived when I could no longer do that. But I still look back with happy memories on the vibrant energies of youth. Young people can give with zest. And they want to give their lives to something'worth-while. They seek a cause, and when they find one they Robert P. Maloney CM serves as superior general of the Vincentians. His address is Congregazione della Missione; Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Roma, Italy. Revie~ for Religious ? launch into it with enthusiasm. ,Their dreams, their~hopes, their vision of the future have not yet been dimmed by bitter experi-ences, or failures, or the harsh fact' that much of reality changes quite slowly. Young people gaze at the world's needs and believe that they can make a contribution. Second, youth has imagination and spontaneity. Young people bring new horizons to communities~ They have the capacity to envision new solutions, They often feel free from rigid categories or structures that have become creaky or clumsily reinforced over the years. They find it easy to identify with the words of Vincent' de Paul that "love is inventive even to infinity.''1 They are willing to "dream the impossible dream." Spontaneity is one of the refreshing aspects of youth. Young people say unexpected things. They question practices that some of us older people never had any doubts about. At times we may find that. their questions make us uncomfortable or defensive. But we should by no means be quick to interpret youth's spontaneity as a sign of aggres-siveness; rather, it often comes from a genuine desire to seek the truth. Third, youth is able to change. Those of us who are older have ploughed deep furrows. It becomes increasingly harder for us to climb out of the ruts we have dug. The furrows of the young are shal-lower. They can be ploughed over. Their direction can be changed so that new waters run through them and new life sprouts up. That is why good initial formation is important for the young. They are pliable enough to ~hink new thoughts, learn new.ways, and create new things. Of course, youth has its struggles too, its gnawing problems. Let me dwell just for a moment on a few of these. Because youth is searching, it is often uncertain about its goals or even its values. Experience tells us that, today especially, young people have diffi-culty making a permanent commitment. There is so much rapid change in society, there is so much disillusionment with those whose values the young may once have prized, that they find it hard to decide where to sink their roots. This means that young people are often confused. They are grappling with the meaning of their live~i They are hesitant about making a definitive commitment. Experience tells us that, today especially, young people have difficulty making a permanent commitment. ff~uly-August 1996 Malone~ * It's Summer? One of the greatest challenges in ministry today is to present attractive, even risky, alternatives to young people and accom-pany them in the difficult task of deciding, Several recent studies point out that young'people seek explicit religious goals, intense community life and solidarity, and explicit and worldwide service to the most needy. Young people can certainly find these goals realized in the call to follow Christ faithfully and to give them-selves to the church's preferential option for the poor. Young people often struggle with thei~ sexuality. Of course, those of us who are older are engaged in the same~struggle too. But the young experience in an~ awakening way strong physical drive; sex-ual energy, a desire for close, intimate relationships. And, unfor-tunately, the turbulent years of adolescence often do not come to a calm, peaceful resolution, but rather to a negotiated truce, after which war may soon break out again. It is~helpful for those of us who live in community to recognize that this is a basic human story, not just ours. It is also important for the young to speak about their sexual struggles with great simplicity with a wise spiritual guide. Youth lacks experience. This is an inevitable fact. All of us expe~ rience life's joys and its sorrows only gradually. Growth takes time. Yet there is a deep knowledge and love that come only from experience. There is gold that can be refined only in the fire. Of Course, not everyone who experiences life's joys and .suf-ferings grows, But, on the other hand, no one grows without a healthy dose of realistic experience. Our ongoing formation pro-grams must. help young people reflect on their experience and grow from it. Having said all this, let me acknowledge that I have painted with broad strokes. Some of the gifts that I have described as characterizing young people are often found in good measure in those who are older too. Likewise, some of the problems that have briefly touched on above plague not just the young, buvalso their elders. Today let me lay before you, young religious, a series of chal-lenges. As .the superior general of an apostolic community, I find that these are the most important things in my heart as I think of the many young men and women who long to live religious life generously today. I call them challenges because my own per-sonal experience, with its frequent failures, tells me they are not easy to respond to deeply. Review for Religious Be deeply rooted in the person of Jesus. This seems obvious, but there is nothing more important that as an older brother I could say to you. "Remember," St. Vincent de Paul once wrote, "that we live in Jesus Christ by the death of Jesus Christ and that we ought to die in Jesus Christ by the life of Jesus Christ and that our life ought to be hidden in Jesus Christ and full of Jesus Christ and that in order to die like Jesus Christ it is necessary to live like Jesus Christ.''2 The Gospels ring with this conviction: Jesus is the absolute center. "I am the way, the truth, and the life," Jesus says. "No one comes to the Father except through me." "I am the vine." "I am the gate." "I am the shepherd." "I am the light." "I am the true bread come down from heaven. The one who feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood will live forever.''3 Let me simply recall to you today the wonderful prayer attributed to St. Patrick: Chri]t be with me, Christ within me, Christ behind me, Christ before me, Christ beside me, Christ to win me, Christ to comfort and restore me. Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ in c~'uiet, Christ in danger, Christ in hearts of all that love me, Christ in mouth of friend and stranger. I recommend two principal means for focusing on the per-son of Jesus, The first is daily meditative prayer. Make Christ the center of that prayer, especially the crucified Lord. Engage in a well-defined period of reflective prayer each day (for example, a half hour), and let the Lord capture your mind and your heart. The second means--and it is not completely distinct from the .first--is to find, love, and serve Christ in the person of the poor. They are our lords and masters. Jesus li~es on in them in a special way, particularly in the crucified peoples. It is so easy for the "world," and for us too, to become numb to their plight: the 5.7 million people of Haiti, who have been so poor for so long that their pain is no longer news; the 2.5 million Bosnian refugees, victims of "ethnic cleansing"i the 1.5 million Somalians on the edge of death by starvation; the countless Rwandans who have been brutally slain. Our contemplation of the crucified Lord can-not remain merely a pious exercise, nor can it be simply medita-tion on a past event. The Lord lives on in his members. He is .~uly-Auffust 1996 Maloney ¯ It's Summer? crucified in individual persons and in suffering peoples. The call is to see him and to serve him there. "When I was hungry you gave me to eat. When Iwas thirsty you gave me to drink.When I was naked you clothed me" (Mt 25:35-36). Learn from. the poor, and be inventive in serving them. I say this to you very directly: it is only the simple and hum~ ble who really grow in the Lord's life. Only0 they can learn the depths of God's wisdom. The saints knew this very well because they had made the gospel teachings their own. That is why the founders of communities urge. all their members to grow in sim-plicity and humility. Learn especially from the poor. They can teach all of us about gratitude for small gifts, about patience in waiting, about hoping against hope, about loving those around us, even in the midst of suffering and oppression, and about shar-ing the little that we have with our brothers and sisters. It is only when we have learned from the poor that we can be inventive in serving them. It is they who will explain to us their deepest needs, and then we can bring them gifts that will really be helpful. Your creativity and imaginativeness as young people will be nourished by what you can learn from them. They will be a life-giving source in your ongoing formation. I encou

Issue 50.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1991. ; Volume 50 Number 6 November/December 1991 Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister Song of the Groom The Erosion of Faith The Prayer of Stupidity R~vtEw FOR Rt~l.~C~OUs (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus; Editorial Office: 3601 Lindcll Boulevard, Room 428: St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO and additional offices. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to REVIEW ~'Oa RELIGIOUS; P.O. BOX 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Subscription rates: Single copy $3.50 plus mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs; two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for subscription informa-tion and mailing costs. © 1991 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Michael G. Harter, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors David J. Hassel, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Advisory Board Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. November/December 1991 Volume 50 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REvtEw FOR RELtGtO~JS; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Elizabeth McDonough, O.P.; 5001 Eastern Avenue; P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017. Back issues should be ordered from REVIEW ~'oa REL~GIOOS; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 . "Out of Print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to: Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Are you reading someone else's copy? If you are, it is time to order a subscription for yourself or your community. Review for Religious is a valuable resource at a reasonable price. Each 160-page issue is filled with articles on Practical approaches to community living Traditional and contemporary methods of prayer Reviews and notices about current spiritual literature Mail in the coupon on the back of this page today and don't miss a single issue. Yes! SendMe a Subscription. ONE SUBSCRIPTION PRICE FOR ALL COUNTRIES US $15 for one-year subscription US $28 for two-year subscription plus mailing costs listed below riiii i iii i Iiii iiiI !ii i i_ MAILING COSTS TO BE ADDED TO ALL SUBSCRIPTIONS FOR THE UNITED STATF_.S AND ITS TERRITORIES Add US$3 for one year Total: US$18 Add US$ 6 for two years Total: US$34 FOR ALL OTHER COUNTRIES (SURFACE MAIL) Add US$ 9 for one year Total: US$24 Add US$18 for two years Total: US$46 FOR ALL OTHER COUNTRIES (AIRMAIL/BOOKRATE) Add US$28 for one year Total: US$43 Add US$56 for two years Total: US$84~ " Please enter a subscription to REVIEW FOR RELIGIO : NAME ADDRES~ CITY ~ATE/PROV|NCE POSTALCODE COUNTRY 1-year subscription US$15 + Pgstage __ = Amount Enclosed __ 2-year subscription US$ 28 + Postage ____ = Amount Enclosed Please note that all subscribers must add postage. Payment in US funds must be included with all orders. Prices are good through 1991. This order is for [] a new subscription [] a renewal [] a restart of a lapsed subscription MAIL TO: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS o 3601 LINDELL BOULEVARD ".ST.LOUIS, MO 63108 1.91 PRISMS . For those who take their Christian calendar for granted, the celebration of Christmas day seems more an ordinary part of the secular year than the extraordinary event it is. in the case of the business retailer the days leading up to Christmas become the watershed for a profitable sales year. For those in school the Christmas season marks ihe end of a semester, perhaps a gradu-ation, or at least a holiday time. There are large parts of Muslim, Jewish, Buddhist, and Hindu worlds where Christmas remains a Western cultural "playtime" invention. And what is Christmas really for us? Christmas celebrates an almost unbelievable reality: God being born as a human being, as a rather ordinary helpless baby. As usual with the arrival of a baby, Christmas represents jby, and with the magical ingredients of angels singing, shepherds watching, and Magi adoring we seem to hold Life with a gentle and light touch. Yet we cannot ignore the dark side of Christmas and the various struggles present within its story, such as the massacre of the innocent babies and the refugee reality of this young family in Egypt. One continuing struggle we all enter into as Christians is in believing that God loves this tangled human world so much. Another cont(mpo~:ary area of con-flict for us lies in the chosen limitations which God takes on in being human, for example, in being male, not female, in being Jewish, not Irish, Polish, or Japanese, in being an uneducated, itinerant preacher, not a priest, a lawyer, or a successful financier. Certain things will be remembered about Jesus-- this God-man--ways of speaking, the kinds of stories he told, his program for what it means to be blessed. All of this sets up the potential for more conflict and misunderstanding from this Middle Eastern way of approaching life so different from our own. Perhaps in our time we need to enter into Christmas more from God's point of view of our human world rather than fixating on our own conflictual struggles. Today it seems that causes and movements, allegiances and preju-dices, tend to make us small, mean, and even vindictive. Christmas take on new importance for Us Christians when the reality we celebrate allows us to identify with God in smallness and in the mean things of this world. We enter a little more lightly and gently into the conflict of limitations which God so eagerly took on in Jesus--the one we call our Vindicator. God desires to minister to a world out of love even though some forms and 801 [109 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 expressions of love always seem to be the source of so much misunderstand-ing and conflict. As a tribute to John of the Cross as we close the four hun-dredth anniversary celebration, Kevin Culligan focuses upon John's : m~mstry--like God's-~coming from an ardent lover. Always the energy of love which seeks union and draws forth imitation enhances at the same time the differentiation of the ones in love. Teilhard de Chardin's evolution axiom, "union differentiates," restates more secularly the Pauline concept of the glory of differences in hands and feet and eye within the Body of Christ--all united in the love of Christ in God. Our contemporary struggle with our own human sexuality in relating to our Christian God needs to find softer focus within the light of Christmas. Maybe there is a kind of divine humor in speaking and relating to God in masculine and feminine imagery. After all, if sexuality makes no sense in referring to our trinitarian God's life, at least the origins of our own human sexuality--limiting as it is in its male and female forms--stem from our cre-ator God of love. And so in accentuating our masculine and feminine reali-ties we reflect back some kind of reality within God's life. Jesus only makes concrete in his very person the struggle of our human love of God--both towards himself and to the God he calls abba, Father. The paradoxes involved in language about God and in responding to a God so intimately involved with us human beings--"male and female God created them"-~are touched upon by two authors in this issue, Robert Annechino and Nancy Cross, as they consider the experience of our loving God and God's loving us. Hennessy's expansion of the Marian mysteries in the public ministry of Jesus adds balance and fullness to our entering into salvation events. Limits in our loving in the form of narcissism is touched upon by Markham and Sofield. O'Hea looks to its roots in the erosion of faith. Darkness even in our loving response in prayer is considered by Dent and Ostini. Ottensmeyer, with a certain lightness of touch, has us take hold of what we might call our perversity principles. The poem, "Monastic Ruminations," by Auer and the article "Messiaenic Epiphany: '. amidst animals, Love is born'" by Schloesser are intended as two special, and different, love-gifts to our readers. May the God enfleshed for us, celebrated anew this Christmas season, help us touch issues and challenges of our times lightly, gently, and with grace. David L. Fleming, S.J. Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister: John of the Cross's Lived Example Kevin Culligan, O.C.D. This article is an edited version of a talk Father Kevin gave in December 1990 at the beginning of the fourth-centenary commemoration of St. John of the Cross's death in 1591. Father Kevin was his province's provincial and is now its director of continu-ing education and ongoing formation. His address is Discalced Carmelites; P.O. Box 429; Hinton, West Virginia 25951-0429. A number of years ago, at a seminar on St. John of the Cross and Spiritual Direction for directors of formation in religious communities, one of the par-ticipants told the group that he had come to our seminar in secret: "If my community knew I was participating in a seminar on St. John of the Cross, they would think I had gone off the deep end and would probably remove me from office to protect our novices." For me that remark sadly illustrates the poor image St. John of the Cross has for many clergy, religious, and laity in the United States. In 1926 Pius XI proclaimed him a doctor of the Church precisely because his writings were judged, after three and half centuries of thorough examination, to have universal value for the spiritual formation of Christians. Yet, for most American Catholics today, John is little known and his writings are a closed book. Many think of him primarily a's a mystic and poet, and so have difficulty identifying with him or believing that his teachings have much value for ordinary practical Christian living. Others, like the great American psycholo-gist and philosopher William James, have read his writings but consider him a negative ascetic, admirable in his personal austerities, perhaps, but whose teaching--"to come to possess all, desire the possession of nothing" (Ascent 1.13.11)--is psychologically dangerous. Even the images of John in reli-gious art, where he is usually portrayed embracing a cross, scare people. In Carmel we think of St. John of the Cross differently. He is our spiritu- 803 ~104 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 al father. We have experienced that his teaching, while challenging, is filled with practical wisdom. We regret that he is so little known and so negatively perceived in the United States because we believe he offers adult Christians a "spirituality with substance," as John Welch, O.Carm., states in his recent book, When Gods Die: An Introduction to John of the Cross. Thus, during the celebration of the fourth centenary of his holy death on December 14, 1591, we challenge ourselves to make his life and writings more accessible to our brothers and sisters in the United States. We hope many will discover him and find in this sixteenth-century Spanish friar a sure guide for our com-mon journey toward union with God. This article, then, considers John less as poet and mystic than as pastoral minister. As an ordained priest he made ministry to others the primary activi-ty and absorbing concern of his adult life. Even as a youngster he cared for others. Years later, his greatest writings on the spiritual life emerged from his ministry of spiritual direction. He wrote his famous diptych, The Ascent of Mount Carmel and The Dark Night, for other Carmelites, both friars and nuns, "since they were the ones who asked me to write this work" (Ascent, prologue, 9). His other two masterpieces in spirituality, The Spiritual Canticle and The Living Flame of Love, were written for two women he served as spiritual director, one a Carmelite nun, the other a widow. By looking at John as priest, as pastoral minister, we may get insights that further the most exciting development in the post-Vatican II Church, the opening of pastoral ministry to all. People have been newly reminded that pastoral ministry is not solely an obligation assumed at ordination or religious profession, but a responsibility that flows from our baptism and confirmation. Specifically, John contributes a fresh way of conceiving a pastoral min-ister, not only a "wounded healer" as Henri Nouwen has suggested,I or a "skilled helper" in the phrase of Gerard Egan,2 but also as an "ardent lover," a phrase which I believe aptly captures John's practice of pastoral ministry. John's Preparation for Ministry In 1567 Juan de Yepes--known then in the Carmelite order as Juan de Santo Matfa or John of St. Matthias--was ordained to the priesthood in the university city of Salamanca. Shortly after, in his home town of Medina del Campo, he met for the first time Teresa of Avila, who persuaded him to forgo his plans to join the stricter Carthusian order in order to assist her in reforming their own Carmelites. John had already been involved in ministry before 1567. From 1556 to 1562, as an adolescent between the ages of fourteen and twenty, he lived in a hospital, where he served the sick as an orderly and begged alms for them in Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister / 805 the streets. He would continue to serve the sick faithfully throughout his life. But the two major events of 1567--his priestly ordination and his first meet-ing with Teresa~determined the character of his pastoral ministry until his death twenty-four years later, in 1591 at the age of forty-nine. Everything that took place in his life before 1567 was but a preparation for the variety of pastoral services he would perform as a priest and a close associate of Teresa of Jesus. John's remote preparation for ministry began early. He was raised in a single-parent home. His father, Gonzalo de Yepes, died from the effects of poverty and famine shortly after John's birth in 1542 in the small Castilian farming village of Fontiveros, twenty-five miles northwest of Avila. John's father had belonged to a noble Toledo family with a prosperous silk business. He left a promising career in the family business to marry John's mother, Catalina Alvarez, a "poor but beautiful" weaving girl originally from Toledo whom Gonzalo had met on one of his business trips. Because his family dis-owned him for marrying beneath his position in life, Gonzalo joined his wife as a weaver in order to make a living. Into these poor circumstances he and Catalina brought three sons in twelve years, John being the youngest. Undoubtedly, in the years following the death of her husband and also her second son, Luis, who died of malnutrition not long after his father, Catalina repeated again and again the lesson and example of her husband's life to her two surviving sons: "Love," she probably said to them, "demands giving everything, just as your father gave up everything for me." Because of their poverty, Catalina turned to the Church for help in rais-ing her youngest son. She placed John in a residential school for orphans and children of the poor.in Medina del Campo, where she moved her little family in 1551. There John would be fed, clothed, and taught the fundamentals of his religion, and would learn a trade. At fourteen he was placed in a hospital, where he came under the formative influence of its chaplain and administra-tor, Don Alonso Alvarez de Toledo. Don Alonso carefully guided the young John and made it possible for him to study the humanities in the Jesuit col-lege in Medina, where he graduated at the age of twenty-one. Shortly afterwards John entered the Carmelites in Medina. Although formed by the role modeling of a diocesan priest and formally educated by the Jesuits, John apparently chose to enter the Carmelites, a Marian and con-templative order, because of his devotion to the Virgin and to prayer. The University of Salamanca After his year's novitiate, the Carmelites sent him to the University of Salamanca for a four-year course in the arts and theology. In the mid-six- 1~06 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 teenth century, Salamanca was a leading center of ecclesiastical learning and at the height of a neo-Scholastic revival. Its faculty included great scholars such as Fray Luis de Le6n, the Augustinian poet and translator of Sacred Scripture, and learned Dominican commentators on the writings of St. Thomas Aquinas. There John became proficient in Sacred Scripture, theolo-gy, and Thomistic psychology, three fields of study that would be essential for the years of ministry ahead of him. These three disciplines, together with his own personal experience, pro-vided the solid bases for the treatises on mystical theology he would later write. Almost every page of these writings contains quotations from the Bible. "Taking Scripture as our guide," he writes in the opening of The Ascent of Mount Carmel, "we do not err, since the Holy Spirit speaks to us through it" (Ascent, prologue, 2). His theology training reveals itself in his continual reminders that God is both transcendent and immanent, demanding that our relationship with God be based on faith and unceasing prayer. And in Thomistic psychology he found a conceptual tool to explain God's work in the human soul. For example, he used the Thomistic concept of active and passive intel-lect to explain this mysterious paradox: although we are limited in our intel-lectual ability to actively form adequate ideas of God, we are virtually unlimited in our capacity to passively receive God's own loving knowledge. Therefore, John taught that one of the major challenges of the spiritual jour-ney to union with God is to not allow our finite understanding of God to become an obstacle to receiving God's own infinite loving knowledge which he communicates to us in contemplation. John considered the knowledge of psychology to be of crucial impor-tance for the ministry of spiritual direction. Writing some twenty years later in his Living Flame of Love, he severely criticizes incompetent spiritual directors, not because their knowledge of theology and Scripture is inade-quate, but for their deficient knowledge of the human person. Because they fail to understand the full depths of the human "spirit" and its laws of opera-tion, incompetent spiritual directors hold persons in the stage of beginners in the spiritual life and never permit them to pass into the interior depths of the soul where God is leading them so that he may communicate with them and unite them totally with himself (Flame, 3.30ff, esp. 44 and 54). Preaching Following John's ordination to the priesthood and his commitment, approved by his religious superiors, to assist Teresa in her reform of Carmel, he was assigned by his provincial to the first reformed community of friars. Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister it was located at Duruelo, a small crossroads in the Castilian plains west of Avila. There the friars lived an austere community life, joined with the min-istries of hearing confessions, preaching, and celebrating liturgies in neigh-boring villages. John was not kriown as a great preacher, although we may assume he preached regularly throughout his years of priestly ministry. None of his ser-mons has come down to us, but he does share his theological reflection on this ministry in The Ascent of Mount Carmel, written some fifteen years later. He says: The preacher., should., keep in mind that preaching is more a spiri-tual practice than a vocal one. For although it is practiced through exteri-or words, it has no force or efficacy save from the interior spirit. No matter how lofty the doctrine preached, or polished the rhetoric, or sub-lime the style in which the preaching is clothed, the profit does not ordi-narily increase because of these means in themselves; it comes from the spirit of the preacher. The profit is usually commensurate with the [preacher's] interior preparedness. It is commonly said that as the master, so usually is the disciple . We frequently see, insofar as it is possible to judge here below, that the better the life of the preacher the more abundant the fruit, no matter how lowly his style, poor his rhetoric, and plain the doctrine. For the living spirit enkindles fire. But when this spirit is wanting, the gain is small, however sublime the style and doctrine. Although it is true that good style, gestures, sublime doctrine, and well-chosen words are more moving and productive of effect when accompanied by this good spirit, yet, with-out it, even though delightful and pleasing to the senses and the intellect, the sermon imparts little or no devotion to the will (Ascent 3.45.1-4). Confessor and Spiritual Guide At Duruelo he also began what was eventually to become his primary ministry, forming souls as their confessor and spiritual guide, a ministry he carried on almost uninterruptedly for the next twenty-four years. He was appointed master of novices for the men who joined the reform. In the years that followed, he was successively master of Carmelite students at Alcal~i de Henares, spiritual director of St.Teresa for five years, regular weekly con-fessor to her 130 nuns in the monastery of the Incarnation in Avila, master of students at the Carmelite college in Baeza in Andalusia, and regular confes-sor to the Carmelite nuns in the convents at Beas, Granada, and Segovia. In addition to these assigned positions within the Carmelite order, he carried on an extensive ministry of spiritual direction with persons outside it. He served large numbers of men and women from every phase of the Christian life, from its earliest stage of conversion to the heights of mysti-cism. These persons included: young people seeking guidance and support in I~0~1 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 determining their vocation in life; men and women troubled by scrupulosity, excessive guilt, psychosomatic anxiety; profoundly disturbed hysterical and paranoid personalities manifesting bizarre forms of religious behavior; and those with the normal problems in the spiritual life such as temptations against God,s law, difficulties in prayer, and feelings of dryness, desolation, and emptiness. The biographical data indicate that John rendered his spiritual service "without distinction of persons." He welcomed all who came to him for help; both inside and outside the confessional--religious, clergy, laity, young and old, rich and poor. His ministry extended to the entire Christian commu-nity, not simply to an elite few who held positions of privilege in society or who enjoyed a reputation for exalted spirituality. From these historical records, I estimate that during one eighteen-month period in 1587-1588 in Andalusia his ministry as spiritual guide and confessor included nearly a thousand .persons in and outside the Carmelite order. With all he fostered the same goals: union with God; imitation of Jesus Christ; deeper faith, hope, and love; continu~il prayer and mortification 6f every desire not ordered to the love and service of God; transformation of the personality through contemplation. Administration As Teresa's reform progressed, her friars eventually became, in 1580, a separate province within the friars of the Ancient Observance a, nd, in 1588, a separate congregation with their own vicar-general. As these developments occurred, John's fellow friars called upon him to fulfill various administra-tive offices within the reform. In 1578 he was appointed local superior of the community at El Calvario in the Sierra de Cazorla mountains in Andalusia. The following year he o~ened the Carmelite seminary in the Andalusian city of Baeza and served as rector there until i582. In 1582 he began six years as prior of the friars' community in Granada, the last two years of which he also served as vicar-provincial for Andalusia. In 1588 he was appointed to a threeryear term on the order's general council, during which time he was also local superior of the friars' community in Segovia. For fourteen straight years he was deeply involved in the administration of a new and growing order, establishing new communities, building new monasteries, providing for the formation and education of new members, and making canonical visitations of communities of both friars and nuns. His most intense period of administrative activity was the two years from 1585 to 1587, when he was prior of the monastery in Granada and Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister vicar-provincial of Andalusia. He was thus responsible, not only for his own local community in Granada, but also for seven other monasteries of friars and five convents of nuns scattered over thirty thousand Andalusian square miles, from Caravaca in the east to Seville in the west, and from C6rdoba in the north to M~ilaga in the south. To visit each community at least once a year as his office required meant almost continual travel, by foot or by donkey, frequently under a blazing sun, over dusty, rugged, winding, and at times mountainous roads, spending nights sleeping in open fields or in boisterous roadside inns. Five years later, in June 1591, at the friars' general chapter in Madrid, the burdens of office--both of formation and administration--were lifted from John's shoulders for the first time in thirteen years. He was to prepare for the Mexican missions, a directive that was later rescinded. In September 1591, his leg became seriously infected, leading to the illness which brought his death on December 14, 1591. During the last five months of his life, he had the physica! solitude he craved since his ordination to the priesthood twenty-four years earlier. These few months were the first time since he was ordained, save for nearly a year when he was imprisoned in Toledo on a charge of disobedience to his Carmelite superiors, that~he was without active pastoral care of souls. He wrote to Sister Anne of Jesus Jimena in July 1591: "Being freed and relieved from the care of souls, I can, if I want, and with God's help, enjoy peace, solitude, and the delightful fruit of forgetfulness of self and of all things. It is also good for others that ! be separated from them, for thus they will be freed of the faults they would have committed on account of my misery." Writing John was now no longer in direct service to others, but indirectly he con-tinued his ministry through writing. Living in a small hermitage in the Sierra Morena mountains in Andalusia, he continued to provide spiritual direction through personal letters and worked on revisions of his two spiritual master-pieces, The Spiritual Canticle and The Living Flame of Love. Both of these treatises were written for his directees, the former for the Carmelite nun Anne of Jesus Lobera and the latter for the lay woman Dofia Ana Pefialosa. Writing became for John, not a hobby, but an essential part of his pas-toral ministry. When a Carmelite nun once asked him if his poetic inspira-tions were from God, he replied, "Sometimes they came to me from God and at other times I sought them." John undoubtedly wrote during his early years in college and as a Carmelite. However, the writings we have today begin with his period of 810 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 imprisonment in Toledo and continue through the last thirteen years of his life, when he was between the ages of thirty-six and forty-nine. The nine-month imprisonment was the tragic result of conflicting jur!sdictions direct-ing the early days of Teresa's reform. This placed John in the. awkward position where fidelity to Teresa's reform, supported by the Holy See through the king of Spain, Philip II, appeared as di'sobedience to his Carmelite superiors, punishable by confinement in the monastery prison. In his prison cell in the Carmelite monastery at Toledo, John began his poem The Spiritual Canticle. Its opening lines sugges.t that poetry provided him a way of coping with the feelings of abandonment by God and spiritual desolation brought on by his imprisonment. He writes: Where have you hidden, Beloved, and left me moaning? You fled like the stag After wounding me; I went out calling You, and You were gone. However, in the years following his dramatic escape from Toledo, John continued to write poetry to express the deepest longings of his heart for God and to capture as best he could in human language his ineffable experi-ences of divine union. More than merely self-expression, John's poetry became pan of his ministry. His pedagogy involved sharing his poems with his Carmelite brothers and sisters and his directees to teach them about the human person's union with God. They, in turn, requested a fuller explanation of these teachings in prose. He responded with three major treatises in spiri-tuality- the prose commentaries on his poems The Dark Night, The Spiritual Canticle, and The Living Flame of Love. Had John not been involved in the ministry of spiritual direction, it is likely that we would still have his poetry, but not the prose commentaries which today, four centuries later, continue to provide reliable spiritual guidance to millions of readers of all faiths for the journey to union with God. A Man on the Move This overview of John of the Cross's ministry hardly leaves us with the image most have of him--a mystic on the mountaintop, with abundant soli-tude to explore his relationship with God and the leisure to write lyric poet-ry. Rather, we see a man on the move--preaching, hearing, confessions, providing spiritual guidance, studying the architectural plans and financial figures of new monasteries, at his desk writing for others; in short, a man deeply committed to pastoral ministry. Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister / I~'1"1 True, by nature he was deeply introverted. His heart's desire was for solitude. He longed to be a solitary Carthusian before he met Teresa of Jesus, and when finally, after twenty-four years of pastoral ministry, he was free to be in a mountain hermitage, he wrote to Dofia Ana Pefialosa: "I am indeed very happy in this holy solitude." Nonetheless, his first commitment was to God, who called him out of himself to share his many gifts with others in pastoral ministry; in responding to this call, he discovered for himself the power and beauty of his own gifts. And these same gifts continue to be an enrichment for us all today. Jesus Christ, the Motive for John's Ministry John's ministry was not an outlet for an active temperament or a restless personality. It was, rather, his loving response to Jesus Christ, who was his Everything--"a brother, companion, master, ransom, and reward" (Ascent 2.22.5). John's ministry was his response to Jesus' love for him. In ministry he attempted to awaken others to Jesus' love for them. "Now we are telling you," John writes in his commentary on The Spiritual Canticle, "that you yourself are His dwelling and His secret chamber and hiding place . Since you know now that your desired Beloved lives hidden within your heart, strive to be really hidden with Him, and you will embrace Him within you and experience Him with loving affection" (Canticle 1.7 and 10). Jesus, too, was John's exemplar for ministry, especially in his kenosis, his self-emptying on the cross. From this John concluded that effective min-istry arises, not from a multiplicity of activity, but from union with Jesus' life-giving death. When he joined Teresa's reform, this insight prompted him to change his name from John of St. Matthias to John of the Cross. Later it led him to remind "true spiritual persons". "that their union with God and the greatness of the work they accomplish will be measured by their annihi-lation for God in the sensory and spiritual parts of their soul. [For] the jour-ney [to union with God] does not consist in recreations, experiences, and spiritual feelings, but in the living, sensory and spiritual, exterior and interi-or, death of the cross (Ascent 2.7.11). Mary, Model of Transformation John's experience of God's love in Jesus also determined his goal in ministry: to help persons let go of their inordinate attachments to creatures so that they might be free to receive the Creator's love into their lives, the divine love which both heals the effects of original sin and transforms human life into God's life. In this transformation, persons are united with the ~112 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 mind and heart of God. They respond to events in their lives with the mind and heart of Jesus. They are moved in everything by the Holy Spirit. In John's mind, the person who best embodies this transformation is the Blessed Virgin Mary. She is the "true daughter of God" in the passage quot-ed above. Furthermore, in The Ascent of Mount Carmel, describing the trans-formed Christian, John writes: "Such was the prayer and work of our Lady, the most glorious Virgin. Raised from the very beginning to this high state [of divine union and transformation in God], she never had the form of any creature impressed in her soul, nor was she moved by any, for she was always moved by the Holy Spirit" (Ascent 3.2.10). John's image of transformation was Mary, the Mother of Jesus. In his pastoral ministry he invited persons to imitate her simple faith in God so that they too might be transformed by the Holy Spirit. With this in mind he com-posed the following lyric that summarizes his entire spiritual doctrine: Del Verbo divino The Virgin, pregnant La Virgen prefiada With the Word of God, Viene de camino: Comes down the road: Si le dais posada. If only you'll shelter her. When we, like Mary, let go of everything that prevents us from being totally open to God's word, the Holy Spirit transforms us into her Son, the Word, Jesus. Two Difficulties Modem readers often have difficulty with John of the Cross's emphasis on purification through suffering. "Too negative," they say when they read a passage like this one from his Sayings of Light and Love: "God values in you an inclination to aridity and suffering for love of Him more than all possible consolations, spiritual visions, and meditations" (SLL 14). Yet anyone who has experienced the healing that comes from intense psychotherapy will, I think, appreciate the wisdom of this recommendation. For John, contempla-tion is, literally, psychotherapy--healing the soul. He is not teaching us how to arrive at ecstatic altered states of consciousness; rather, he is telling us how to heal the effects of original sin in our life. Effective psychotherapy demands a willingness to endure the pain that comes from an expanding awareness of our own ego-defense mechanisms and the consequent change of behavior necessary to break the compulsive repetition of self-defeating behavior. Similarly, John of the Cross explains that contemplation requires a readiness to accept the interior pain that accompanies a clearer insight into the disorder of our soul and our natural distance from the incomprehensible goodness of God. Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister The healing of our souls begins when we open our lives to receive God's loving knowledge. We experience loving knowledge as a light, at times painful, which allows us to observe clearly the disorder that continues to operate in our daily lives. At the same time, this light lets us see as never before God's inexhaustible love for us. In this light we quite naturally let go of disordered attachments to our own self-interest (a letting go that brings the temporary pain of 1 oss and sadness) and become more attached to God's will, which ultimately brings peace to our inner lives, even as we deal with each day's problems. But even granting John's hypothesis that purification is a prerequisite for healing and transformation, many today still believe that his spiritual doctrine is too individualistic and exclusive, meant only for the few who choose an avowedly contemplative way of life. They see little relationship between his spirituality and the pressing social issues of our day, such as those addressed by the American bishops in their recent pastoral letters on peace and economic justice. Obviously, the issues John addressed four hundred years ago are not the same issues we face today, although sixteenth-century Spain was not without its wars and economic injustice. Nonetheless, Richard Hardy, one of John's modem biographers, has suggested new ways of interpreting his counsels on personal mortification that bring out their social significance. Addressing the Institute of Carmelite Studies in Boston a few years ago, Hardy pointed out this country's inordinate appetite for national security and an improved stan-dard of living, even while millions of our people live in poverty. In the face of this poverty, he suggested that John's counsels on the mortification of the emotions in order to dispose one's sensory life for union with God are also a prophetic social challenge to the American Church. Thus, St. John writes in The Ascent of Mount Carmel: Endeavor to be inclined always: not to the easiest, but to the most difficult; not to the most delightful, but to the harshest; not to the most gratifying, but to the less pleasant; not to what means rest for you, but to hard work;' not to the consoling, but to the unconsoling; not to the most, but to the least; not to the highest and most precious, but to the lowest and most despised; not to wanting something, but to wanting nothing; do not go about looking for the best of temporal things, but for the worst, and desire to enter into complete nudity, emptiness, and poverty in everything in the world (Ascent 1.13.6). 1~14 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 These shocking words, directed to Carmelite religious in the sixteenth century committed by public vows to live in poverty, admittedly demand interpretation for Christians in twentieth-century America. Nevertheless, they challenge us, an affluent Christian community in a world where mil-lions are dying of starvation, to seek, not always the best and the most, but only the necessary, so that others in our world may also participate in their just share of the earth's goods, which God intends for all his children. Moreover, John teaches that when persons are deeply touched by God's love, their entire outlook on life is radically changed. Seeing now with God's eyes and feeling with Jesus' heart, they can no longer maintain racial preju-dices, exaggerated nationalism, or hearts closed to the world's suffering. The fruits of contemplation which John describes in his writings are precisely those which our bishops identify in their peace pastoral when they write: "The practice of contemplative prayer is especially valuable for advancing harmony and peace in the world. For this prayer rises, by divine grace, where there is total disarmament of the heart and unfolds in an experience of love which is the moving force of peace. Contemplation fosters a vision of the human family as united and interdependent in the mystery of God's love for all people" (The Challenge of Peace, no. 294). Conclusions What conclusions might we draw for pastoral ministry today from this review of John of the Cross's life and work? I suggest the following: 1. Preparation for ministry begins early in life, hopefully with baptism. Ministers for the Church will come forward from Christian families, parish-es, and schools where there is deep love, where serving others is a communi-cated value, and where role models and positive mentoring for ministry are present. 2. More immediate preparation for specialized ministries in the Church requires a solid grounding not only in Sacred Scripture and theology but especially in Christian anthropology, that is, a constant study, aided by human sciences, of the mystery of the human person in contemporary soci-ety. 3. Effective pastoral ministry, lay and ordained, depends first upon acquiring the skills necessary for a particular ministry and, second but more important, living daily Jesus' Paschal Mystery, the main source of effective ministry. 4. Christian ministers need clear images of Christian transformation to guide their activity, such as Mary, Mother of God and of the Church, Spouse of the Holy Spirit, Faithful Disciple of Jesus, and Queen of Apostles. Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister 5. The spirituality that empowers Christian ministry realistically appre-ciates both the effects of original sin in our lives and the presence of God's never failing love to heal us. This spirituality seeks to overcome artificial dichotomies that undermine ministry, such as opposing social action and contemplative prayer, pastoral activity and artistic creativity. It encourages persons to bring forward under the guidance of the Holy Spirit their unique gifts for the building of Christ's Body, confident that such sharing of gifts leads to the discovery and realization of one's total person. Pastoral Minister as Ardent Lover Earlier I suggested that John inspires an image of the pastoral minister as an ardent lover. The Holy Spirit set him on fire with love for God, other persons, and all creation. Fire was John's most comprehensive symbol, as Professor Keith Egan demonstrated in his address to Carmel 200, the sym-posium in Baltimore in August 1990 honoring two hundred years of Carmelites in the United States.3 As a metaphor, fire suggests the purifica-tion of soul symbolized by "the dark night"; it also captures the mutual pas-sionate love of God and the human person conveyed through the erotic images of spiritual betrothal and marriage in the Spiritual Canticle. As a consuming fire slowly transforms a log into itself, so the Holy Spirit, the Living Flame of Love (Flame 1.3), transforms us into God, leaving us on fire with divine love for his people. The Church always needs pastoral ministers on fire with the love of the Holy Spirit, but never more than today in the United States. Archbishop Rembert Weakland of Milwaukee recently underscored the enervating polar-ization in the American Catholic community which hardens us into opposing ecclesiologies, unwilling to dialogue with one another, unable to tolerate dif-ferences, afraid to compromise in order to find a common way together.4 Pastoral ministry obviously must try to resolve our present polarities, not reinforce them. We are not likely to do this without the fire of God's love burning in our hearts, a love that results from a contemplative openness to God. In the Carmel 200 celebration mentioned above, Father Joseph Chinnici, O.EM., historian of American spirituality and currently provincial of the California Franciscans, offered the opinion that the failure since 1700 to cul-tivate the contemplative dimension of Christian life accounts in large mea-sure, not only for "our contemporary groping for a stable spiritual center," but also "for the stridency in today's Catholic community.''5 For years Thomas Merton alerted us to the dangers of this neglect, but only now are we seeing clearly our spiritual impoverishment as a Church and our need I~16 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 each day for God's wisdom and love, which, as St. John of the Cross teach-es, is contemplation's gift. In 1591, following the general chapter of the Teresian friars at Madrid, a Carmelite nunin Segovia, Maria of the Incarnation, wrote to John deploring the shabby treatment he received from his brothers in the reform who deprived him of all offic~ and planned to mission him to Mexico in return for his outspoken opposition to the policies of Father Nicholas Doria, the vicar-general, regarding Jerome Graci~in and the government of the Carmelite nuns. John wrote back on July 6, 1591: ". do not let what is happening to me, daughter, cause you any g.rief, for it does not cause me any. ¯. Men do not do these things, but God, who knows what is suitable for us and arranges things for our good. Think nothing else but that God ordains all, and where there is no love, put love, and you will draw out love . " Considering the circumstances in which they were written, these words bespeak the effects of contemplation in John of the Cross--a transformed consciousness and a nonviolent heart. They, perhaps more than anything else he wrote, cha.llenge the Catholic Church in the United States today. NOTES I Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Wounded Healer: Ministry in Contemporary Society (Garden City, N.Y.: Imag~ Books, 1979). 2 Gerard Egan, The Skilled Helper: Models, Skills, and Methods for Effective Helping, 2nd edition (Monterey, Calif.: Brooks/Cole Publishing Co., 1982). 3 Keith Egan, "The Fire of Love: John of the Cross' Central Symbol of Contemplative Identity." Lecture given at Carmel 200: Contemp.lation and the Rediscovery of the American Soul, sponsored by the Carmelite nuns of Baltimore, held at Loyola College, Baltimore, August 12-18, 1990. 4 Rembert G. Weakland, O.S.B., "From Dream to Reality to Vision." Address given to the Future of the American Church conference, sponsored by Time Consultants, Washington D.C., Sept. 28, 1990. Printed in Origins 20, no. 18 (October 11, 1990): 289-293 5 Joseph P. Chinnici, O.EM., "The Politics of Mysticism: Church, State, and the Carmelite Tradition." Lecture at Carmel 200, Baltimore, August 12-18, 1990~ Messiaenic Epiphany: . amidst animals, Love is born Stephen Schloesser, S.J. Mr. Schloesser is a transitional deacon studying theology at Weston Co!lege. He resides at 15 Avon Street; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138. The nineteenth and twentieth centuries, in their most profound manifestations, are centuries which have tried to live without tran-scendence. How to live without grace--that is the question that dominates the nineteenth century. The question of the twentieth cen-tury., has gradually been specified: how to live without grace and without justice? --Albert Camus, The Rebel (1951) I would like to stress the need for the Church today to be aware of its duty to bring to the world a sense of the sacred and the transcendent., i. In this way we can show to the world that we are a sign of something which is more meaning,ful and more complete than just the daily tragedies that all of us must face. --Rembert Weakland, "25 Years after the Council" (1990) A friend stopped me after class the other day and said, "You like twentieth-century organ music, don't you?" Grateful at last that life had sent a soul partner to accompany me on my solitary journey, I eagerly replied, "Yes! Do you? . No," she answered, "but a friend gave me a CD of Christmas music for the organ. I can't stand it. If you want it you can l~ave it." I took the disc gratefully and set out again on my journey, solitary still, but with a mission-ary's fervor. Twentieth-century music in general tends to distend: for lush romantic strings it seemingly substitutes barbed wire; for pastoral horns the intermit-tent siren. It attempts to speak in language too deep for words those feelings we prefer left unsaid: confusion in the face of chaos; despair over life's daily 817 I~1t~ / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 deaths; horror in the face of human atrocity. Twentieth-century music in gen-eral tends to express our culture's deepest pulses: a world seemingly devoid of grace and justice. And what about twentieth-century church music? The church music composer-historian Erik Routley once wrote that all authentically twentieth-century church music contains within its score a certain measure of "skepti-cism." I think he is right here, but in this Christmastide I suggest a more seasonal term: a certain measure of "scandal"; the "stumbling block" of the manger. For what faced the European church musicians after the Great War was nothing less than the scandal of Christianity: incarnation, cross, grace-- the works. How do church musicians remain faithful both to their experience of violence--this race, this culture, this epoch--and, at the same time, to their vision of confidence in Love's promise to triumph? Many--perhaps most--solve this dilemma (as so many of us do) by simply choosing one or the other, confidence or despair. We--players and listeners alike--are numbed by the banality or bludgeoned by the bombast. Yet, as Archbishop Rembert Weakland said once in an Advent homily, Christian liturgy (and the vision it ritualizes) insists that we always keep in mind both terms of the dialectic. At Christmas, we remember the price in Gethsemane of becoming human; on Good Friday, we remember the promise proclaimed at Easter. When our liturgy expresses joy unbridled by the mem-ory of death-~or grief unbalanced by the hope of resurrection--we have for-gotten the paradox: ¯. amidst animals, Love is born. Whereas the French composer Claude Debussy had painted impression-istic passage.s, conveying the evanescence of time lost with large lush ensembles, the young Parisian Olivier Messiaen turned his attention to the other pole: he attempted time out of time. Messiaen discovered the genius unique to the organ: it can convey the illusion of eternity. The bang of a drum punctuates; the vibration of a piano wire inevitably dies; the singer must come up for air. But the organ, as Igor Stravinsky complained, is "the monster that does not breathe." In the organ, Messiaen and many after him found a new way of inviting the listener to experience the transcendent. On the other hand, these musicians were twentieth-century citizens, very much situated in history. The organ lost a genius when the young Jehan Alain was killed in the defense of France. The German Paul Hindemith fled to the United States under Nazi persecution while choral composer Hugo Distler took his own life under the same. Olivier Messiaen wrote and pre-miered his "Quartet for the End of Time"--beginning with "the harmonious silence of heaven"---while imprisoned in a German POW camp. They knew Messiaenic Epiphany / 8~9 firsthand the human potential for savagery, a fragile culture's collapse, the seeming triumph of death. Thus, they also employed the musical language of our time: barbed wire, screaming sirens, carefully constructed cacophony. Writing church music, they attempted to convey in their medium the experience of Christmas: that, in the midst of life's bleak midwinter, there lives "the dearest freshness deep down things." Their fusion of the languages of transcendence and of skepticism resulted in a radically new musical lan-guage, a nearly hypostatic union. In the midst of scandal (which their music never sidesteps), they stood apart from the aleatoric vogue, firm in hopeful trust, rooted in their vision of the immanent transcendent: ¯. amidst animals, Love is born. I am glad for the gift of the CD, and I plan on listening to it this season. Not, of course, over Christmas dinner or while opening gifts under the tree or while rocking my niece to sleep in front of the crackling fire. For that I will listen to "The Messiah" or to the kids from King's College, or my moth-er will put on Nat King Cole or my father Johnny Cash . And not, of course, when the snow silently piles outside my Cambridge window, weigh-ing down the boughs as books weigh down me, streetlights highlighting Victorian crannies on neighboring homes. For that kind of delicious melan-choly only George Winston's "December" will do. I mean rather when I turn off the lights and light a candle, wrap a blan-ket round and stare into nothing: that is when I will play my new CD. Time and timelessness, scandal and hopeful trust, death and Love. I will think about them--Nazis and world war and concentration camps; and I will think about us---death squads and desert storms and Mount Pinatubo; and I will think about home--grandfather's Alzheimer's and grandmother's grief, a cousin's suicide, a friend's AIDS: "the daily tragedies that all of us must face." And then, I hope, as for magi on a journey to a manger, scanning the midwinter sky, it will light up the night, the sudden onslaught of insight-- the Epiphany--those artists attempted to convey: ¯. amidst animals, Love is born. 820 Monastic Ruminations I. Spring." The Russian Olive Tree in Meditation Park "The affection of love is a delicate plant. " --Gilbert of Hoyland Silver smells whiff past me, into me, Byzantine incense, perfume from a bazaar, a solitary pearled tree in the park odors the mind with deja vued dusty dreams shelved from disuse. Sable Lent fades into resurrected dappled blooms, the Russian Olive shimmers in newborn light, morning dew kisses its hoary-haired branches, while it speaks in hushed tones of hidden presence. II. Summer: Locust Trees along the Academy Entrance "Unity consists in singleness of love." --Bernard of Clairvaux Standing at attention, locust trees reach skyward, stretching limbs into lowlying clouds, each arm delicate, broken by storms, battered by winter's ice, survivors sentineled. Breezes sway the foliage to an unheard melody, rhythmically touching the tips of treed tendons, digits gnarled by seasonal change, each tree soloed, a monk reaching for God, separate, yet partnered, facing each day together yet aloned. 821 IlI. Autumn: The Monastic Cemetery "The treasure of our love is hidden in the field of our heart and lies buried in its very depth." --John of Ford The colors are deep across the valley-- red, burnt orange, yellow. Each vibrant tree grasping my throat and choking my breath away, death is viewed, keeping itself daily before our eyes. Fallen leafs encircle my feet, drawing my eyes to the stones neatly rowed, each with a face, a person I knew, a laugh recalling the past, now silent, earthbound, yet rejoicing beyond the eye. IV. Winter: Leafs Trapped in Collins Court "Love is solid. It may be fretted by annoyance, but it simply cannot be worn away." --John of Ford Leafs trapped within the courtyard beat bird-like against the mirrored windows, trying to escape the battering wind, fluttering desperately, vortexing, rising and falling, yet free. Columns rise, Stonehenge revisited, standing guard over the spectacle, silent seers, mutely observing the abused leafs, hostaged too, but immobile, the stationary monoliths envy the leafs bound nowhere yet unfettered. Benedict Auer, O.S.B. Saint Martin's College Lacey, Washington 98503 Song of the Groom: Spiritual Marriage and Masculinity Robert Annechino Robert Annechino has completed the graduate program in spiritual direction at the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation, Washington, D.C. This article is taken from a paper written for the program. He is married and the father of three children, and is writing a book on masculine romantic spirituality. Correspondence would be wel-come at P.O. Box 14039; Rochester, New York 14614. All Christians have heard God addressed as "Father." Today we sometimes also hear God called upon as "Mother." In our mystical literature there is a long tradition that speaks of God or Christ as the "Bridegroom" of the soul. This article considers something we have heard next to nothing about: a Christian mystical experience that celebrates God as "Bride." Admittedly, such an idea seems peculiar at first, but perhaps its very anomaly is even more peculiar. Why has not Christianity admitted such a tradition when, as we shall see, many world religions have? How might an appreciation of the Divine Bride expand our understanding of God, of religious experience, and of ourselves as spiritual, social, and sexual beings, male and female? The awareness of God as Mother has been a gift and challenge of femi-nist spirituality. This alternate feminine image of God as the Divine Bride derives from the quest for an authentic contemporary masculine spirituality. Reflection by men on our experience as men will free us from the myopic assumption that male experience is normative of all human experience, and will bring the unique features of masculinity into sharp focus. To understand and revitalize the spiritual life of contemporary men, it is important to con-sider how we customarily recognize both maleness and holiness and how these conceptions connect and conflict. Richard Rohr, James Nelson, and John Carmody are some of the teachers who have explored male experiences of Christian faith and values. 822 Song of the Groom / 823 As evident in the work of Robert Bly and Robert Moore, an essential element of the men's movement is the recovery of the archetypes or models of male experience, which typify distinctive themes of male identity. Through the exploration of such heroic figures as the Wild Man, the King, the Warrior, the Trickster, the Lover, the Grief Man, and the Quester (which Robert Bly has aptly called the "Great Joys of Men"), contemporary men are gaining new understanding of their maleness and of the social expectations and personal conflicts which shape them. In Toward a Male Spirituality, John Carmody encourages men to come to God in and through the kinds of relationships that reflect the best of male experience, finding God as buddy, father, brother. He also seeks to open men to the possib!lity of finding God the Holy Spirit as the divine lover, in a spirituality of romancing,l But here, in the attempt to engage male romantic love as a spiritual symbol, we run into a barrier that challenges traditional Christian notions. This barrier has also been noted by Robert Moore and Douglas Gillette in their book on the four major male archetypes, King, Warrior, Magician, Lover. Of these, they feel that the Lover has been the most repressed within Western religion. They describe the giftedness of the Lover so: For the man accessing the Lover, all things are bound to each other in mysterious ways. He sees, as we say, "the world in a grain of sand." This is the consciousness that knew long before the invention of holography that we live, in fact, in a "holographic" universe---one in which every pa~t, reflects every other in immediate and sympathetic union. It isn't just that the Lover energy sees the world in a grain of sand. He feels that this is so.2 The mature energy of the Lover is not exclusively nor even primarily expressed through sexual activity, but as a royal dignity which suffuses the entire person with gladness of heart and warm richness of being. While the Lover has never been articulated well for Christian women or men, I believe that histor!cally there has been a particular reluctanc~ to incorporate male erotic energy into religious expression, and this history needs to be under-stood and redressed. In a recent book on the feminist rhetoric of St. Teresa of Avila, Alison Weber maintains that medieval spirituality systematized two major images of the mystical journey.3 The first was .the sponsa Christi, the bride of Chris.t, an image drawn from the conventional feminine experience of romantic love and marriage. The second image was the miles Christi, the soldier of Christ, derived from the conventional male experience of war. In the sponsa Christi or bridal mysticism, we find that from the time of Origen the Song of Songs was lavishly allegorized as the mystical union of the soul, personified by the 1~24 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 Shulammite damsel, with the Lord as the shepherd/king. This imagery evolved into the classical descriptions of spiritual betrothals and spiritual marriage. It is certainly true that throughout the history of Christian spiritu-ality such imagery has been evoked by men as well as by women. In fact, most of its known expositors were male (since literature was a male domain). Yet today, when feminist theologians have tightly insisted that we consider the limitations levied by exclusive masculine language in relation to God, we might also ponder what diminishment lurks in the imagery of bridal mysticism. Why have men relied upon the erotic imagery of women to describe their love for God? Why is there no "bridegroom mysticism" call-ing up.on the natural erotic imagery of men? What would it take, and what would it mean, for Christian men to become free to pursue God as their Divine Bride? Bridegroom Mysticism: The Male Mysteries of God and Men At this point it is important to ask: Does it really matter whether we con-ceive of God as Father, Mother, Bridegroom, Bride, or in any of the person-al, transpersonal, or nonpersonal figures that have dawned in human consciousness as we encounter the great Mystery? If we give too much attention to the name, will God cease to be Mystery? I believe that the name only enhances the Mystery. If God is God, then the God of the naming is not different from the God of experiencing. Feminist theologians have wisely recognized that naming God is an act of self-revelation as well as God's rev-elation to us. With this in mind, let us consider what it means for men to name God as Father, Mother, and Bridegroom and then consider the alterna-tives of knowing God as the Divine Bride. Mary and Leon J. Podles, in an interesting article denouncing the "emas-culation of God," protest that the male image of God cannot be dispensed with arbitrarily. God the Father, they say, is a God of transcendence, stand-ing distinct from his creation, having created it in a male act of separation from himself: Why is God the Father a Father and not a mother? Maleness is a symbol of transcendence because the fundamental male experience, thal~ of fatherhood, of reproduction through ejaculation, is one of separation, while the fundamental female experience is one of prolonged and inti-mate union with the offspring through the long months of gestation and nursing. The male experience of the world is one of "either/or," "this, and not that," one of separation.4 The male image of God engages essential aspects of the male identity, which cannot be denied without denying the life quest of men. As many Song of the Groom / 895 writers have pointed out, male identity is usually first discovered in an act of distinction and separation.5 The little girl experiences continuity with her mother, their femininity uniting them (with both positive and toxic bonds). But the little boy becomes aware of his masculinity as being a difference between him and the close nurturing mother, and thus begins the male quest of distinction and separation. With this comes the need for the boy to affirm his maleness by connecting with his father. From here ensues the whole dynamic of dependence, independence, and eventual interdependence that are typical of healthy male development experiences that perhaps figure in the religious motifs of exile and redemption. And yet, while the maleness of God does engage these crucial aspects of men's experience, there is a subtle but clear possibility that it can also limit a man's sense of masculinity before God. The Podles' article, for example, refers to the Father God as "the Creator, before whom all else is female.''6 The inevitable presumption is that, if God is considered male, then all cre-ation, including humanity, is essentially feminine. Ironically, this might leave men castrated before God, their maleness exiling them from the "femi-nine" creation. As James Nelson has said: When God became male, males were divinized, and patriarchy had cos-mic blessing. At the same time we have resisted that one-sided masculin-ized deity, for a male God suggests to men their feminization. Language referring to the Church has long been feminized: "She is his new creation by water and the word." All of us, men as well as women, are "she's" when it comes to being the Church. That feels uncomfortable. Furthermore, a male God penetrates us. But to be penetrated by anyone or anything, even God, amounts to being womanized. It seems tanta-mount to a man's degradation, literally a loss of grade or status.7 Notions of "female submission" toward God have pervaded all of Christian spirituality, from pious popular devotions to the most rarefied con-templation. Even if he has not been exposed to the literature of bridal mysti-cism, consider what it has meant for ~i man; standing amid generations of male Christian mystics, to sense himself in a feminine role in relation to God. What does this imply about his maleness? The lavish descriptions of bridal mysticism, in which the feminine soul is wooed by the celestial Bridegroom, violate his natural desire as a man. Jungians may discern here the emergence of the inner anima, the feminine side of the male. But even if this were the case, what other problems are invoked in such an approach? Arthur Green has asked some important questions along this line: Is it really only women alone who are in need of feminine imagery? Do images of the divine feminine belong only to women? Might they not 826 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 belong to, and respond to the needs of, men as well as women? Or, as a friend posed the question a long time ago, with reference to Catholic spiritual literature, does Teresa of Avila need to be the bride of God more than John of the Cross? Does John need God the Father more than God the Mother? Indeed, is it Mother whom the passionat~ Teresa seeks so boldly? Might one not argue that men need the feminine, as women need the masculine, if religious life involves something like what the depth psychologists call a search for.polarities? In the course of our intense longing for the divine Other, a longing long depicted as having a strong erotic component, might it not be opposite rather than like that needs first to be sought out?8 And, while feminist theologians have contributed an important under-standing of the Divine Mother, the uncritical acceptance of God as Mother still may not fully open the feminiriity Of God to adult men. Robert Bly affirms that a man's encounter with the holy feminine, the "meeting with the gbd-woman in the garden," is a step beyond the parental drama: W~ can't stop the story here, because the feminine has not yet appeared. His mother, as the maternal form of the feminine, he has of course expe-rienced, but that is all. And now he is about to meet the feminine in a nonmatemal form~ in its powerful, blossoming, savvy, wild, instigating, erotic, playful form.9 In God the Bride, we find a fully femii~ine expression of divinity, one who preserves for men the essential Otherness that is so integral to their psy-che. As Bride, God is even more "Other" than Father, yet it is an otherness which is fantastically attractive, and invites the man to participation and union. The Divine Bride welcomes a mal6 spiritual identity that is fully adult and ~ully masculine. Bridegroom Spirituality and the "Way of the Warrior" Now let us turn briefly to Alison Weber's second image of classical Christian mysticism, the image of the miles Christi, the soldii~r of Christ, a mas~tiline image that has found wide expression historically, from the ladder mysticism of John Climacus, through the service mysticism of Ignatius LoyolL Today one might well ask if this militant motif, in an age of nuclear and chemical weapons, terrorism, and environmental desecration, is at all appropriate. But here the expositors of what has been called "the way of the warrior" must challenge, nuance, and explain such imagery. The passionate denial of ~he flesh in an intent focus upon. a goal is a real and necessary aspect of human life, and it is fitting that it find expression in the mystical "way of the warrior." Many men and women relate vitally to God on this path, at least for a good part of their lives. The "call of the King" in Ignatius Song of the Groom / 827 Loyola's Spiritual Exercises presents a spirituality that springs from this rich sense of participation and mission. Some expositors of male spirituality seem to equate it exclusively with the way of the warrior, but the male "way of the lover" (bridegroom mysti-cism) is both a complement and an alternative to the way of the warrior. While it may be important to question the limitations of the miles Christi, it is emphatically not the role of bridegroom mysticism to neutralize or domes-ticate the way of the warrior, but to enhance, inflame, and fulfill it. The way of the warrior celebrates a clearly focused intent to uphold righteousness regardless of personal cost. This fervent passion unites the way of the war-rior with the way of love. But the miles Christi can become morbid if it arbi-trarily divorces itself from love, in any of its forms, including the erotic. Such denial inflicts a cramped, neurotic quest for control, a pseudospirituali-ty that is myopically fixated and incapable of the panoramic awareness exer-cised by the true warrior. Sadly, such diminishment has all too often been the conventional model of holiness, reflected in a celibacy that is sterile rather than full, in the collapsed mentality described by Alan Watts: The opposition of spirit to both nature and sexuality is the opposition of the conscious will, of the ego, to that which it cannot control. If sexual abstinence is, as in so many spiritual traditions, the condition of enhanced consciousness, it is because consciousness as we know it is an act of restraint . This is clearly the reaction of one for whom the soul, the will, the spiritual part of man, identified with that form of conscious-ness which we have seen to be a partial and exclusive mode of attention. It is the mode of attention which grasps and orders the world by seeing it as one-at-a-time things, excluding and ignoring the rest . Obviously, '~he sexual function is one of the most powerfu| biological manifes'ta'tions of biological spontaneity, and thus more especially difficult for the will to control . But this mode of control is a peculiar example of the proverb that nothing fails like success. For the more consciousness is individualized by the success of the will, the more everything outside the individual seems to be a threat--including not only the external world but also the "external" and uncontrolled spontaneity of one's own body. ¯. Hence there arises the desire to protect the ego from an alien spontane-ity by withdrawal from the natural world into a realm of pure conscious-ness or spirit.~° The Divine Bride brings men the gift of seeing the totality within the par-ticular, and the particular within the totality. She wards off all brittle reduc-tionism. Nor does She allow the will to sink into a quietist slumber. Rather She preserves full intentionality of the will, but in a mode that Gerald May aptly describes as open "willingness" rather than compulsive "willfulness.''11 While the impulse to relate to God as Bride has not been entirely absent t~91~ Review for Religious, November-December 1991 in Christian mysticism, it is certainly not in the mainstream of our tradition. For historical models we must turn to its expressions in other religious tradi-tions, and explore some out-of-the-way territories in our own history. But the love-quest for God the Bride is worthy of our attention. The Divine Bride in Non-Christian Traditions In the Jewish writings we meet the evocative figure of Wisdom, as expressed in the book of Proverbs and throughout the Scriptures. Wisdom emerges not as an abstract attribute of God, but as a mysterious and primor-dial Woman. In Proverbs, she boasts her own preeminence in her dalliance with Yahweh: "When He laid down the foundations of the earth, I was by His side, a master craftsman, delighting Him day after day, ever at play in His presence, at play everywhere in His world, delighting to be with the sons of men" (Pr 8:29-31). In the Wisdom literature we read how those who love the Lord also take Wisdom as their own: "She [Wisdom] it was I loved and searched for from my youth; I resolved to have her as my bride, I fell in love with her beauty" (Ws 8:2). In Western Christian exegesis, Wisdom was identified with the Logos, or as a personification of an attribute of God. But within the Jewish tradition the figure of Wisdom evolved into Shekhinah, the Presence or Dwelling of divinity. Among the Kabbalistic Jews in the thirteenth century, She was esteemed as no less than a divine hypostasis, the feminine consort of the . Lord. The eminent Kabbalistic scholar Gershom Scholem regards this as one of the most powerful and far-reaching insights of Jewish mysticism.12 The recognition of Shekhinah was not only an intellectual triumph, but also ennobled human sexual love as an emanation of and participation in the divine love between the Lord and His consort Shekhinah. The Christian father Clement would idealize the forty days of Moses on Sinai as time of continent chastity and use this example to justify detailed restrictions on sex-ual expression within marriage.13 But, in the Kabbalistic literature, Moses was said to have joined with Shekhinah, the very consort of God, on Sinai. According to Kabbalistic teaching, in the course of creation the Lord became mysteriously and redemptively alienated from Shekhinah, but sexual inter-course within marriage helps to reestablish God's unity, as men and women participate in the divine harmonic interplay of male and female. The Jewish wife and husband were invited to enjoy their Sabbath lovemaking as a con-templative act, their delight ever expanding to embrace them, their progeny, and their ancestors and continuing as blessing to all the Jewish people, to all of humanity throughout creation, ultimately bringing healing into the very Song of the Groom / 829 heart of a wounded, yearning God. Speaking of the Sabbath celebration, a celebration that was climaxed by sexual intercourse between husband and wife, Scholem has said, "A strange twilight atmosphere made possible an almost complete identification of the Shekhinah, not only with the Queen of Sabbath, but also with every Jewish housewife who celebrates the Sabbath.'q4 In the spirituality of Islam, the beauty of Allah has been identified with the charm of women. The Islamic mystics, or Sufis, could be quite ascetic, and sometimes shared with other Muslims a marked suspicion towards women (although at least one contemporary scholar of Islam, Annemarie Schimmel, has stated that such notions never reached the pitch of medieval Christian misogyny~5). But this did not deter the Sufis from also recognizing femininity as a revelation of God. A notable example is the illustrious Sufi master Ibn ai-'Arabi (1165-1240), perhaps the greatest mystical expositor of Islam. As a youth he had two women saints among his teachers. On his pil-grimage to Mecca at the age of thirty-six, he became enamored of an intelli-gent and beautiful Persian maiden. Recognizing the love of God suffused within the thralls of his human passion, he composed The Interpretation of Desire (Tarjuman aI-Ashwaq), an ode addressed to Allah as his beloved Lady. A few lines of one of his love songs to God display this eloquently: O, her beauty--the tender maid! Its brilliance gives light like lamps to one traveling in the dark. She is a pearl hidden in a shell of hair as black as jet, A pearl for which Thought dives and remains unceasingly in the deeps of that ocean. He who looks upon her deems her to be a gazelle of the sand-hills, because of her shapely neck and the loveliness of her gestures.~6 In a later work, The Bezels of Wisdom, Ibn al'Arabi taught that a man sees the divine most perfectly by contemplating the feminine. The man who enters sexual embrace in this knowledge finds much more than the satisfac-tion of a fleeting lust, but enters the play of divine pleasure. "If he knew the truth," Ibn al-'Arabi wrote, "he would know Whom it is he is enjoying and Who it is Who is the enjoyer; then he would be perfected.''17 Notice that here, as in the Kabbalah, erotic experience has been evoked both as a simile of divine love and as a sacrament divinizing the love experienced between a man and a woman. The Tantric schools of Hinduism and Buddhism view the world as a liv-ing matrix of divine energy. "Tantra" literally means continuity or inter-weaving, and the Tantric teachings skillfully reveal the existential and mystical consistencies that pervade the seamless but diverse fabric of life. 8~0 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 Even our neurotic bewilderments and obsessions contain seeds of transform-ing energy.18 Tantric contemplation enrolls all facets of human experience as skillful means to spiritual freedom, and the sexual faculty is not excluded. In the higher Tantras the Buddhas are imaged in intimate sexual embrace with their Prajna or Wisdom consorts, the female Buddha embodying authentic multidimensional vision and the male Buddha incarnating compassionate action. For those with the right preparation, initiation, and guidance of a qualified guru, the energy of sexual union is evoked in an explosive revela-tion of divine creative potential. 19 Those who enter this path encounter the divine feminine principle as the Dakini (Sanskrit--or, in Tibetan, khandro--literally "sky-dancer"). The Dakini is lovely, enticing, and challenging and sometimes comes in a horrif-ic guise, exercising a startling energy that cuts through behavioral obses-sions. The Dakini, who may become manifest as an archetypal figure or an actual woman of wisdom, avails Her fully realized femininity to move the contemplative beyond his exclusionary mode of consciousness toward one that is panoramic and involved in the full potentiality of life. To disengage him from habitual values, She may sabotage the yogi's self-righteousness. In several tales, an abstemious, scholarly monk enters the higher Tantric path when the Dakini approached with wine, meat, or the offer of sexual rela-tions, all of which are of course forbidden in the lesser path of renuncia-tion-- a fascinating rendition of the "female temptress" motif in that the male is tempted toward fuller life. To obtain the blessing of the Dakini, the con-templative needs to revere, court, and withstand Her, in short, to fully romance Her. As a contemporary Tibetan teacher said: The playful maiden is all-present. She loves you. She hates you. Without her your life would be continual boredom. But she continually plays tricks on you. When you want to get rid of her she clings. To get rid of her is to get rid of your own body--she is that close. In Tantric literature she is referred to as the dakini principle. The dakini is playful. She gam-bles with your life.2° In Taoism, also, the universe is seen to function according to the inter-play of male and female energies, the yang and the yin. A loving relationship between a man and woman serves to integrate the body-mind continuum of each with the universal dynamic of life. The Taoist texts give men explicit and detailed instruction on the encounter with the feminine, and a yogic approach to sexual experience that engages these profound energies. Christian Expressions of Bridegroom Spirituality In the gospels Jesus is proclaimed as Bridegroom, and one would hope Song of the Groom / 831 that the apostolic Church would have cultivated a view of marriage as a way of the Spirit, with an appropriate bridegroom spirituality. But a search here is somewhat disappointing. In The Body and Society, Peter Brown surveys the place accorded to marriage in early Christian thought, in context with the developing ideal of virginity.21 Rejecting the Jewish and Roman ideals of marriage, some of the more far-flung Christian bodies in apostolic times expected that all sexual activity, even within marriage, would cease upon baptism. Even the authentic Pauline writings, particularly 1 Corinthians, favor the ideal of celibacy, allowing marriage as a concession to the weak. Perhaps in reaction to the havoc created within families by the more ascetic model, the later Pauline corpus, particularly the pastoral letters, domesticat-ed this view, giving a conventional nod to the probity of marriage. Surpassing all of these is the notable passage in Ephesians 5:25-33, which is remarkable for its strong affirmation of male marital love: in the love of his wife, a man conforms himself to Christ as the Bridegroom of the Church. The marital eml~race is depicted as not only pure but purifying, a self-giving that ennobles both partners. Here was a wonderful foundation for the growth of a future bridegroom mysticism. However, the patristic era did not see the unfolding of marriage as a way of the spirit, but preferred celibacy as the ideal for a perfected life. By the close of the patristic period, the celibate ideal was firmly settled, and an allegorical bridal mysticism began to bloom. Doubtlessly, the sterling figure of Mary often came to stand in for the feminine aspect of the Divine. Her perpetual virginity was a rapt model of chastity, yet occasionally her devotees have found stirrings of a tender, more sensual love toward her. Bernard of Clairvaux, for example, was an eloquent and profound expositor of bridal mysticism, yet he also reported that the Virgin would come and embrace him warmly, as words of love would pour forth to her: "My Love! My Love! Let me ever love thee from the depths of my heart!''22 Later, in the time of Henry Suso (1295-1366), it was the custom of the young men in his native German town to serenade their sweethearts at the New Year. Henry reportedly followed suit by singing stirring love songs to the figure of the Madonna in the town square.23 One thinks, too, of Francis of Assisi in his romance of Lady Poverty. In fact, by adopting the mission of "troubadour of the Lord," Francis drew upon a movement that fostered bridegroom spirituality at a time when the Church would not recognize it: the emergence of courtly love and romance. In Love in the Western World, Denis de Rougemont traced the close development between the emergence of romance and the heterodox spiritual movement known as Albigen-sianism. 24 The troubadours were evangelists of the movement, and through 1~2 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 their odes of love and honor, human and divine love were integrated, so that spiritual love was given a human face and human love was elevated to a divine dimension. The Provenqal troubadours courted God as the divine fem-inine, dazzled by Her beauty and charm. The movement found expression in chivalry, literature, and the arts, making amorous love a respectable topic for prayer. One thinks, for example, of the tale of Tristan and Iseult and of the ~vorshipful manner~ 6f courtly love. It is curious that during this time, too, interest arose in spiritual friendships between men and women, such .as the chaste love of Francis and Clare or the more ~ultry and tragic affair of Abelard and Hrlolse. In his love of Beatrice, Dante fotind a revelation of divine mystery. Later the heritage would still be alive in Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet: the young lovers meet at the masqu.e and express their love in an extended metaphor of worship, pilgrimage, and liturgy. It was during the medieval period, too, that the art of alchemy was intro-duced from northern Africa and taken up by Christian scholars. As Carl Jung's colleague Marie-Louise von Franz has exhaustively discussed,25 Western alchemy did not emerge as a primitive attempt at chemistry, but as a comprehensive map of inner transformation. Alchemy preserved psychologi-cal symboli.sm that was excluded from mainstream Christian mysticism, ificluding a sophisticated contrasexual integration. By the time of the Renaissance, interest in the Kabbalah was also respectable in learned Christian circles and doubtlessly coritributed its own sexual spirituality.26 For all of this, there was still no contemplative imagery in the mainstream of Christian spirituality that would represent male sexual longing as a paradigm for the love of God until the unique voice of Jacob Boehme broke the silence. Jacob Boehme (1575-1624), the German Lutheran lay mystic and teach-er, was doubtles.sly the boldest expositor of bridegroom imagery to emerge in the history of Christendom. Largely self-educated, Boehme worked as a shoemaker, and lived as a faithful husband and father of six, involved in the affairs of his guild and community. From an early age he had a remarkable series of revelations concerning the nature of God, creation, and the inter-play of good and evil. Iia his time alchemical and Kabbalistic ideas had per-colated well into learned spirituality, alongside the more official theologies of the churches. The Wisdom tradition, which had continued in Eastern Christian thought,27 had long lain dormant within Western Christian spiritu-ality, but in an intricate trinitarian theo.logy Boehme spontaneously and inde-pendently recovered it. Briefly and loosely stated, in Boehme's theogony Wisdom (or Sophia) was regarded as the consciousness of God. Wisdom was spoken of as the body of the Trinity and the bride of Christ. She infused all Song of the Groom the persoias of the Trinity in their knowledge of one another, and thus could draw human corisciousness into God. Accordingly, in the devotional works of Boehme, spiritual marriage was not between the bridal soul (the anima) and the bridegroom Christ, but between the animus and the Lady Wisdom. In The Way to Christ Boehme exhorts the reader to court the noble Virgin Sophia to become Her bridegroom just as Christ is Her bridegroom, and gives a stirring dialog between Sopfiia and the bridegroom soul.28 The Promise of Bridegroom Spirituality Let us return to the questions raised at the beginning of this article: What is th~ importance of male erotic mysticism? What does it contribute to our understanding of God? Does it open any new ways of thinking about who we are, in relation to God and in relation to one another, as men and women? The following common themes certainly are not exclusi~ie to bride-groom mysticism, but suggest themselves with enough ~orce to call for par-ticular notice: The Healing of Male Grief. Robert Bly has said that the male mode of feeling springs from a primal "grief," a grief related to the male experience of sacrifice and self-denial.29 In their conventional roles as providers and protectors, men have experienced a crushing burden of responsibility and "have-to's," wearily measuring up to others' expectations, just as they con-tinually size up other men. From the tenderest age, male ideritity is won in an act of separation and distinctioh from the mother, urilike the female identity that is secured through inclusion and similarity to her. Even the sexual act involves for the male a separation, a sundering and yielding of his very essence. Bridegi'oom mysticism exposes his deep grief to the healing work of the Woman. She, who is desirable pureiy by nature rather than by merit, brings forth what is best in a man. When a man first feels the stirrings of love toward the Divine Bride, the experienc6 is overwhelming, reminiscent of the first time he became attracted to ~ girl. Many men remember their initial sex-ual attractions as fresh and frightening and raw, but at the same time oddly pure. Later on, the sexual lives of men often become just another conquest or achievement, but the love of the Divine Bride never seems to lose its surprise and purity, giving the sacrifice of the man a worthy end and resting place. The Healing of Female Pain. Robert Bly calls the female mode of feel-ing an experience of "pain," the pain of being devalued. If nothing else, an awareness of God as Bride, at this juncture of our history, indicates mutuali-ty between men's and women's spirituality in contemporary faith, an acknowledgment by men that the divine feminine is as important to them as it is to women. One of the precepts of Tantric Buddhism states that "to dis- 834 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 parage women is a mortal offense, for woman is the source of Wisdom." Bridegroom spirituality accords the deepest respect to woman, in an act of affirmation that woman cannot give to herself, any more than man can heal his own grief without the love of the Woman. The Healing of God. In the wholeness of God as Woman, we worship Her as the matrix of mystery, comprehen.ding all within her, evil as well as good. In the year 1600 Jacob Boehme first had i.nsight into the activity of Divine Wisdom, and in this same revelation he said, "I saw, too, the essential nature of evil and good and how the pregnant Mother--the eternal gen-etrix brought them forth.''3° Bridegroom spirituality has much to offer our Understanding of what has been called the redemption of God.31 Warrior spirituality rouses to the Lord's clarion to wage battle against evil, but the human heart also seeks the why and wherefore of suffering, an intimacy in which the pain of God can be disclosed and, if possible~ healed. In Kabbalistic Judaism, humanity's separation from God also entails the sepa-ration of masculine and feminine principles within Godhead, and erotic spir-ituality participates in ttieir reunion. As Gershom Scholem writes: The reunion of God and His Shekhinah constitutes the meaning of redemption. In this staie, again seen in purely mythical terms, the mascu-line and feminine are carried back to their original unity, and in this unin-terrupted union of the two the powers of generation .will once again flow uhinterrupted through the worlds. The Kabbalists held that every reli-gioias act should be accompanied by the formula: this is done "for the sake of the reunion of God and His Shekhinah.''32 The Healing of Creation. This is the necessary and obvious corollary of the healing of God. Bridegroom spirituality implies human participation and co-responsibility for God's creative purpose. We relate to God the Father/Mother as children, but the relationship with God as Bride is an adult relationship, enrolling the man fully into God's ongoing creative actions. Wisdom. Quite consistently--in the Hebrew Scriiatures, in Buddhist Tantra, and in the teaching of Jacob Boehme--the divine feminine is named "Wisdom." Wisdom is the fulfillment of the defiriing male consciousness, not in an ever-escalating acquisition of knowledge, but in "knowingness," with its distinctly feminine quality. It is akin to the Hebrew yada, which is "to know" as well as "to make love to." Robert Bly says that ~i father must impart two gifts to his children: his temperament and his teachings. In con-temporary society, Bly says, childreh may ~till have a brief opportuhity to be exposed to their father's temperament, but they have been almost completely deprived of his teaching, of acquiring practical prowess from him. And (it seems to me) just as children need to receive the father's teaching, s6 the Song of the Groom male psyche needs to give teaching, for its own health. "Even mean men," Bly says, "are often sweet when they're teaching." The Buddhist scriptures describe the interplay of female Wisdom, or Prajna, with the male principle, which is alternately called Compassion (Karuna) or Skillful Means (Upaya), the ability to utilize any situation appropriately for the welfare of others. The implication is that the male capacity for action, know-how, and mastery must be thoroughly suffused with wisdom if it is to find fulfillment. Think of the master workman, mechanic, or cabinetmaker, who after years with his craft does not have to shout or trumpet his ability. His mastery is unarguably evi-dent in his work. He can be patient, gentle, and sure. He has seen it all before. In the same way, for the man to exercise Skillful Means, he must deeply see the potentials for good and evil in each situation. It is only Wisdom which brings this seeing. The Centrality oflntent. When the male spirit encounters God the Bride, She calls forth a unique pledge of fidelity, a resolve that endures beyond all appearances. When words fail, when understanding crumbles, when all our religious ego projects are shown for the games they are, only the kernel of bare intent remains. In such a contemplative vision, we pray not to "get somewhere," but enter prayer as itself an expression of desire or intent, in the faith that just in "being there" we give and receive everything. In the power of this intent we pray not to get close to God, but because we are close, and beloved, to Her. For the man who finds inklings of his own experience here, are they ways to enter more deeply? As masculine spirituality emerges, men will find ways to celebrate God the Bride if they are willing to do so. But here are some preliminary ideas for Christian men: ¯ Simply open the Song of Songs, and pray the words of the groom to God as your Bride. Notice what happens. ¯ Try the same thing with Jacob Boehme's dialog with Sophia, or with Ibn al-'Arabi's poem. ¯ In male gatherings of worship, sing Her praises, just as Jewish men would gather at the edge of town at sunset on Friday, to welcome their Bride as Queen of Shabbat. ¯ We learn about the divine feminine by honoring the femininity of women around us. In Tilden Edwards's book Practicing the Presence, there is a simple, prayerful exercise that a man and woman can enter together.33 The book The Shared Heart by Joyce and Barry Vissell also has some sug-gestions, for committed couples. ¯ Christian celibates who want to bring sexual energy into prayer might wish to consult The Radiant Heart by Linda Sabbath. This does not deal [136 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 specifically with male sexuality, but perhaps the exercises could be adapted toward this direction. In the Song of Songs, the awaiting bride leaps to the door at the approach of her groom, only to find that he has vanished. The bride is ready for love, but it is the groom who is timid and unsure. Is humanity only to be the hearer of the song of the groom? Might not that song also be meant to pour forth from the hearts of men? Might not the Bride be yearning to hear it? NOTES ~ John Carmody, Toward a Male Spirituality (Mystic, Conn.: Twenty-Third Publications, n.d.), pp. 31-32. 2 Robert Moore and Douglas Gillette, King, Warrior, Magician, Lover: Rediscovering the Archetypes of the Mature Masculine (HarperSanFrancisco, 1990), p. 121. 3 Alison Weber, Teresa of Avila and the Rhetoric of Femininity (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1990), pp. 109-122. 4 Mary and Leon J. Podl6s, "The Emasculation of God," America, 25 November 1989, p. 373. 5 See, for example, James B. Nelson, The Intimate Connection: Male Sexuality, Male Spirituality (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1988), p. 31. 6 Podles, p. 374. For a thorough treatment of the fatherhood of God, see also John W. Miller, Biblical Faith and Fathering: Why We Call God "Father" (New York: Paulist Press, 1989). 7 Carmody, p. 45. 8 Arthur Green, "Bride, Spouse, Daughter," in Susannah Heschel, ed., On Being a Jewish Feminist (New York: Schocken Books, 1983), pp. 248-249. 9 Robert Bly, Iron John: A Book about Men (Reading, Mass: Addison-Wesley Publishing Co., 1990), p. 123. l0 Alan W. Watts, Nature, Man and Woman (New York: Pantheon Books, 1958), pp. 143-145. ~ Gerald May, Will and Spirit: A Contemplative Psychology (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1982), pp. 5, 6. ~2 Gershom G. Scholem, Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism (New York: Schocken Books, 1965). ~3 Referenced in Peter Brown, The Body and Society: Men, Women, and Sexual Renunciation in Early Christianity (New York: Columbia University Press, 1988), pp. 122-138. ~4 Gershom G. Scholem, On the Kabbalah and Its Symbolism (New York: Schocken Books, 1969), pp. 140-141. ~5 Annemarie Schimmel, Mystical Dimensions oflslam (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1975), p. 429. Song of the Groom 16 In Reynold A. Nicholson, The Mystics oflslam (New York: Schocken Books, 1975), p. 102. 17 Ibn al-'Arabi, Bezels of Wisdom, trans. R.W.J. Austin (New York: Paulist Press, 1980), p. 276. 18 Daniel Cozort, Highest Yoga Tantra: An Introduction to the Esoteric Buddhism of Tibet (Ithaca, N.Y.: Snow Lion Publications, 1986). 19 See the works of Herbert Guenther: Yuganaddha: The Tantric View of Life (Varanasi: Chowkhamba Sanskrit Series, second edition, 1964) and The Life and Teaching of Naropa (Boston: Shambala, 1986). 20 Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, as quoted in Tsultrim Allione's remarkable work Women of Wisdom (Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1984), p. 38. 21 Brown, The Body and Society. 22 B.Z. Goldberg, The Sacred Fire: The Story of Sex in Religion (New York: University Books, 1958), p. 199. 23 Ibid. 24 Denis de Rougemont, Love in the Western Worm (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1983). This revised edition has valuable appendices. 25 Marie-Louise von Franz, Alchemy: An Introduction to the Symbolism and Psychology (Toronto: Inner City Books, 1980). 26 loan P. Culianu, Eros and Magic in the Renaissance (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1987). Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross are also believed to have been influenced b~, the Kabbalah. See C. Swietlicki, Spanish Christian Cabala: The Works of Luis de Le6n, Santa Teresa de Jesfis, and San Juan de la Cruz (Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1986). 27 See Sergius Bulgakov's interesting and controversial works, particularly The Wisdom of God: A Brief Summary of Sophiology (New York: Paisley Press, 1937), in which he presents an Eastern Orthodox sophiology quite consistent with Boehme's theogony. 28 Jacob Boehme, The Way to Christ (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), pp. 59-62. 29 These comments from Robert Bly are from a televised interview with Bill Moyers, A Gathering of Men. A videotape and transcript are available from Mystic Fire Videos. 30 Ann Liem, Jacob Boehme: Insights into the Challenge of Evil (Wallingford, Pa.: Pendle Hill Publications, 1977), p. 8. 31 See, in particular, I. Carter Heyward, The Redemption of God: A Theology of Mutual Relation (Washington, D.C.: University Press of America, 1982). 32 Scholem, On the Kabbalah and Its Symbolism, p. 108. 33 Tilden Edwards, Living in the Presence: Disciplines for the Spiritual Heart (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1987), p. 74. 1~38 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 ADDITIONAL WORKS Bolen, Jean Shinoda. Gods in Everyman: A New Psychology of Men's Lives and Loves. New York: Harper & Row, 1989. Davis, Charles. Body as Spirit: The Nature of Religious Feeling. New York: Seabury, 1976. Donnelly, Dody H. Radical Love: An Approach to Sexual Spirituality. Minneapolis: Winston Press, 1984. Eliade, Mircea. "Masculine Sacrality" (vol. 8, pp. 252-258) and "Feminine Sacrality" (vol. 5, pp. 302-312). In The Encyclopedia of Religion. New York: Macmillan, 1987. Ibn al-'Arabi. Tarjuman al-Ashwaq. Translation and commentary by Reynold A. Nicholson. London, 1911. Johnson, Robert A. He: Understanding Masculine Psychology. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1977, 1986. Sabbath, Linda. The Radiant Heart. Dimension Books, 1977. Stoudt, John J. Jacob Boehme: His Life and Thought. New York: Seabury Press, 1968. Vissell, Joyce, and Vissell, Barry. The Shared Heart: Relationship, Initiations and Celebrations. Aptos, Calif.: Ramira Publishing, 1984. Incense What sense this incense, Questions common sense? This burning, this waste, Like fragrant perfume, Aromatic nard on the Lord? Like love freely given-- For sheer delight! A gift--this incense-- Sweet savor of benevolence. Walter Bunofsky, S.V.D. 1446 E. Warne Avenue St. Louis, Missouri 63107 The Bible's Use of Sexual Language Nancy M. Cross Mrs. Cross's article on Blessed Edith Stein's feminism appeared in our issue of January/February 1989. The mother of twelve and now the grandmother of twenty-five, she entered the Catholic Church twenty years ago along with her Protestant-minister husband and their entire family. A wideiy published writer, she cofitinues to have this address: Box 55; Tayiors Falls, Minnesota 55084. [~lore and more Christian publications are saying what Arthur Shaw said in the National Catholic Register: that addressing God as male or female is "not only sowing confusion, but teaching heresy.''l Inasmuch as God is pu~e spirit and has no physical body that is male br female, the statement is, of course true. Yet a reply to this assertion about gender language used for God is demanded if some critical truth is not to be totally obscured, because the assertion is simply not clear enough. Addressing God with gender language exclusively of one sex is neither confusing nor heretical, but correct and true, and is first to be found in the Bible. Genesis 1 describes God's creation of man and woman in tiis image: "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness . So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them" (Gn 1:27). About tliis passage Pope John Paul II, in the encyclical Dominum et Vivificantem, asks, ."Can one hold that the plural which the Creator uses here in speaking of himself already in some way sug-gests the Trinitarian mystery, the presence of the Trinity in the work of the creation of man?''2 His logic, which in every particular fits the unfolding story of man and woman in the Bible, brings us to some clarifying insights about the meaning of sexuality. In his pastoral letter "Do This in Memory of Me," Cardinal Carter of Toronto presents the deep covenantal the61ogy based on the Trinity from which we understand relationships on all levels of being: God and 839 840 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 humankind, man and woman, priest and laity. The cardinal archbishop's teaching ranges from deductions based on the nature of the Trinity and the incarnation of Christ to anthropological considerations drawn from the nature of human sexuality. He begins with an analysis of the Trinity, a com-munity of diverse persons which implies neither lordship nor subjugation of one Person to another, yet with distinct roles, irreducibly different in what concerns their being as distinct Persons.3 Triune Relationship Within the relationship of the triune Persons stand revealed an initiator, the Father, and a dependent responder, the Son; unifying these two polar Persons (initiation and response are ob-positioned) is the Holy Spirit, who is, as St. Bernard said, "the kiss between the Father and the Son." Each has all the attributes of the one nature, but some are more to be said of one than the others-~"neither confounding the Persons, nor dividing the substance," as the Athanasian Creed puts it. From the union of Father and Son in the Spirit come creativity and ecstasy. In creating man and woman, God shares that creativity and ecstasy of his own being by enfleshing, materializing these awesome principles of personhood in a male who initiates and a female who is dependent and responds. Cardinal Carter writes: "This qualitative sexual differentiation is rooted not in physiology but in the created human imaging of the Trinity, and is indissociable from the revelation of the Trinity in Christ, as his Incarnation bears witness.''4 In the perfection of the original plan, these two (humankind) are made in this image: two polar persons sharing one nature-~one the initiator, one the responder, both united by a third, the Holy Spirit, who condescends to share himself and unify these opposites with divine love. Therefore, the sexuality that appeared in physical form expresses in a creaturely way something utterly spiritual at the very heart of things. The Trinity Imaged God is saying something about his very self in the creation of man and woman; he is sharing the dynamics of the personhood in the Trinity with the creature he makes in his image. Therefore maleness, though not found in the Trinity, of course, speaks nevertheless of what we would intrepidly say is the masculine principle among the Persons of the Trinity. How do we come to the idea of "masculine"? By observing the action of the male. But the male is picturing for us something far beyond himself. Although it may be anthro-pocentric to describe the First Person as Father, nevertheless, because the The Bible's Use of Sexual Language / 1~41 male generates (in a secondary way) new life and because God has revealed himself as generator of everything that is, it is clear that the very idea has come from God down, not from man up. God has spoken about himself in real terms by creating male and female bodies. Therefore, what has visible form as male imperfectly incarnates a masculine principle in the Trinity. We call the principle "masculine" because of our human experience with male-ness- but it precedes maleness and lies at the heart of things. What has visi-ble form as female imperfectly incarnates a feminine principle in the Trinity. We call the principle "feminine" because of our human experience with femaleness--but it precedes femaleness and lies at the heart of things. Accordingly, the second person in both the Holy Trinity and in humankind is the responder. This role for both the Son and the woman is in response to the First/first person. Do the Son and the woman have the attribute of initiation? Do the Father and the man have the attribute of response? Of course they do, because the polar persons share all attributes of each other; but certain attributes are more to be said of one than the other-- which makes the persons' positions polar and nonexchangeable. As Cardinal Carter says, "the absolute unity of God is not monadic but trinitarian. This eliminates the necessity o.f placing antagonisms between unity and multiplic-ity, because the Triune God, who is Unity itself, is also three Persons, quali-tatively differentiated and irreducible to each other, yet without antagonism." 5 Equality In perfection the Second/second person is completely equal in worth to the First/first person. It is a result of the Fall, the takeover of the scene by an enemy's values, that "response" and "dependent" have become despised concepts. In the perfect plan, re.ceiving and responding are values equal to governance and generating. The Second Person is coequal and coeternal to the First. Man and woman, created to image that relationship in human flesh, \ were created with the same polar roles inherent in their flesh and psyche, yet they stand eye to eye as total equals. As in the Trinity, initiation (or authori-ty) and response (or obedience), indicative of man and woman, are not prin-ciples unequal in their value and worth. They are the stances of wholly equal beings, who enjoy an equality like Father and Son. The very idea of the inequality of the role of response came from an alien consciousness, one who had already envied the role of authority and spread that envy to the perfect creation. When the woman accepted his defi-nition, eventually believing his lies, his value system was established, which is the Fall, a value system that still is modus operandi. It took this alien con- 1~49 / Review for ReligiouJ, November-December 1991 sciousness to cast doubt on that equality and to substitute a value system which contaminates everything since the Fall. The antiword (Pope John Paul's term) corrupts the world with the lie that to initiate and order is power and power is "where it's at." As a corollary, the same antiword insists that to heed and serve, to receive and. respond, is for lackeys and nitwits. Jesus restored the value system of perfection. In bridging this abyss he restored the values of the original plan: to be obedient is not the least important role, to be authority is not the most important role. But almost no one believes it to this day--least of all the one who most purely is created to model obedience and service, the woman. Archbishop John Roach, speaking to the National Council of Catholic W~omen, recently cast light on this as it refers to laity and clergy: The Father, the Son, and the Spirit are one, but very different. The Father does not do what the Son does, the Son does not do what the Father does and neither does what ~he Spirit does. Jesus spoke often of doing the Father's will. He was not obsequious; that was his role and he recognized the Father's role. The Father did things unique to the Father. He initiates, governs, presides, creates in a very distinctive way. The Son's role is to respond, to be the word for the Father, to reflect the Father, to be the splendor and glory of the Father. The Spirit is the bond of love animating the Father and the Son. He is the comforter and consoler and paraclete and inspiration. That may seem to be a kind of lofty ideal for us, but I think it is what we have to aim at. Our roles are different, but that ought to be a source of rejoicing, not resentment. There are things that you do as laity that I should not do. There are things that I do as bishop and priest that you should not do . There is no inferiority or super-superiority in the Trinity. There cannot be any among us. I must exercise a kind of leader-ship and a kind of authority for the good ofth~ Church which is not your responsibility. To do that, however, I must recognize not only th~ dignity of you as persons and children of God, but as people in whom the Spirit speaks . In a collegial gathering all bring gifts. The leader becomes ser-vant and the last rises to full dignity . 6 Revaluing Roles in Tr!nitarian Light In .order for this vision to catch on, it takes the woman first (beginning with the Blessed Virgin Mary, but with us women too) to revalue her role and meaning in light of the Second Person of the Trinity. This is because woman first accepted Satan's false definition and evaluation of her role, that is, as less worthy than the role of authority her husband held in their rela- .tionship by divine command. Edith Stein says, "The nature of the temptation was in itself of more significance to her."7 The woman must begin the unraveling of the knot by not choosi.ng again the values of Satan, not accept- The Bible's Use of Sexual Language ing again the lie that ordering/authority/governance has a higher prestige, is more worthy than service, and is, therefore, an object of envy. She must claim her role and love it; and if she must fight, it is to have that role of obe-dience recognized as fully equal to the opposite role of authority. She is nei-ther a lackey nor a nitwit. Authority will not talk down to her if she talks straight with it, respectfully, but eye to eye. In order for the value system of perfection to be restored, woman must accept obedience as fully worthy, fully equal to the opposite role. The Virgin Mary has done it. Women have rarely done it, and the very idea is being washed away in our day. Not only has obedience (submission) been deval-ued as the feminine role, but authority has been falsely elevated (Satan's val-ues are intact). Therefore, the man considers his role as prestigious and powerful; and this worldly, not to say carnal, evaluation is widely endorsed by women. Authority, which is another word for ultimate initiation and governance, must take its cue from the First Person of the Trinity--that is, it exists to put all at the service of those who are receivers/responders. Pope John Paul's insistence that Ephesians 5 speaks of "mutual submission" of wife to hus-band and husband to wife underlines this.8 But the submission of both, the total giving of self9 that both experience, is done differently. The woman submits to the husband's governance and ordering (the role of headship) of their life together, making one will of two; and the husband submits to the woman's need for protection and provision, and this whether he feels like it or not. In the Christian community, males have authority, and women model obedience. But both live lives of self-giving service in mutual submission. The laity (feminine though consisting of males and females) submits to the clergy's (masculine) governance, the clergy submits to the laity's need for headship, spiritual and material, whether convenient or inconvenient. Further, the Christian community forms the people of God (the bride) whose relationship to God is as feminine to masculine. The model? Again, man and woman in marriage;t just as man and woman in marriage are the image of the Holy Trinity. This imaging of the meaning of sexuality is not deviated from throughout the Bible despite the different pressures of time and culture in the two thousand years of its formation. We see the model for both roles within the Holy Trinity. There is no pres-tige in the role of authority, and no servility in the role of obedience--such is the peculiar Christian ~,ision of relationship. Says Jesus who was sent: "I do nothing but what I see the Father doing"; "I have not come of my own accord"; and so forth. Such statements are the core of the gospel of John. l0 844 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 Anthropomorphic, yet True What does this mean? That maleness and femaleness and the roles inherent in the bodily form speak of ultimate truth about relationship origi-nating in the Holy Trinity. God knows that this creature will develop a lan-guage according to information received through the senses. That language will necessarily be anthropomorphic, but because the sexual body, male and female, is created to image the truth, the words developed can be used to express that truth truly. C.S. Lewis masterfully investigates the meaning of sexuality in his space-fiction trilogy Out of the Silent Planet, Perelandra, and That Hideous Strength. In the latter he writes: "Yes," said the Director. "There is no escape. If it were a virginal rejec-tion of the male, He would allow it. Such souls can bypass the male and go on to meet something far more masculine, higher up, to which they must make a yet deeper surrender. But your trouble has been what old poets called Daungier, we call it Pride . The masculine none of us can escape. What is above and beyond all things is so masculine that we are all feminine in relation to it . ,, I I The inspired writers of Holy Scripture, where Lewis gained his insights, speak truly when they reveal God as forever masculine, and humankind in relation to God as forever feminine. Under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, they never deviate from this form of expression, not once! Examine careful-ly those Scriptures used to present God as mother and you will not find them asserting God's motherhood. The importance of God in his triune Persons always being considered masculine to us human beings is so overwhelming that in every case in Scripture the truth of this is rigorously guarded. For this reason, also, the Second Person of the Trinity came as male--all Persons of the Trinity are to us as masculine to feminine whether we are male or female humans. Isaiah and Hosea Isaiah 66:12-13 is the favorite of the misquoted Scriptures and is always used in this way: "As nurslings, you shall be carried in her arms, and fondled in her lap; as a mother comforts her son, so will I comfort you." This, how-ever, is the fuller text, more closely translated: "Behold, I will extend pros-perity to her like a fiver, and the wealth of the nations like an overflowing stream; and you shall suck, you shall be carried upon her hip, and dandled upon her knees. As one whom his mother comforts, so will I comfort you; you shall be comforted in Jerusalem?' Obviously God does not present himself as the mother in this passage. The Bible's Use of Sexual Language The distinction he places between himself and Jerusalem is very clear. The same holds true for Isaiah 49:15, another favorite to substantiate God's motherhood. "Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you." The speaker is Yahweh, the LORD, who in the entire text of Isaiah presents him-self as enduringly masculine though with a depth of compassion that sur-passes all earthly love, even the love of a mother. Mothers may forget, it is possible, but the Lord will not forget. This Lord continues, "Then all flesh shall know that I am the Lord your Savior, and your Redeemer, the Mighty One of Jacob" (Is 49:26). Chapter fifty continues the theme, with God iden-tifying himself as husband and father. Isaiah 46:3-4 is also a standby text for the Mother-God argument, yet there is nothing necessarily maternal in the picture of God carrying the heavy burden which Israel has become. In fact it is explicitly stated in this passage that the one who carries is masculine: "Hearken to me, O house of Jacob, all the remnant of the house of Israel, who have been borne by me from your birth, carried from the womb; even to your old age I am He, and to gray hairs I will carry you. I have made, and I will bear; I will carry and will save." Next to Isaiah, Hosea is most often called on to bolster the femininity-of- God argument. Such a twist of Hosea's intent cannot be supported by the text, in which God speaks throughout as a betrayed husband and deserted father. There is no plausibility for assuming that the speaker in Hosea 11 is maternal. The Father is expressing the warmth and concern we expect from either parent, mother or father. Nothing maternal is stated here. The actual text, with irrelevant passages deleted, reads: When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. The more I called them, the more they went from me . Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk, I took them up in my arms; but they did not know that I healed them . How can I give you up, O Ephraim!. My heart recoils within me, my compassion grows warm and tender. I will not execute my fierce anger; I will not again destroy Ephraim; for I am God and not man, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come to destroy. Can this be considered to be the Mother-God talking? The context is quite the contrary. Neither does Sirach 4:10, "[God] will love you more than your mother did," say anything tb conclude the femininity of the One who loves more than human mothers. The full wording is: "You will then be like a son of the Most High, and he will love you more than does your mother." The Holy~Trinity, of course, has within itself all the positive expressions 846 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 of relationship that there are. This means that mother-love has its origin in the Holy Trinity. What from humankind's point of view would be called fem-inine love is present within (intra) the Trinity; it has been enfleshed by the Creator in the woman--the Son is the Person imaged by the woman. Yet, despite the obvious full measure of what we humans call "femininity" inher-ent in the Trinity, God never approaches his people as mother or as feminine. To humankind (ad extra) God is consistently husband, father, lover, and not wife, mother, or beloved, because Godhead is to humankind the initiator, the author, eliciting humankind's response and obedience, and the roles cannot be reversed. Children, Church, Bride His people are polar to himself, and though they are intended to be, in a certain sense, his equals ("bride without spot or wrinkle," Ep 5:27), they can never be God despite Satan's words to the contrary. Yet they are meant to be joined in union with him; the Holy Spirit will condescend to his mysterious work, but only after Jesus has come to forgive otherwise indelible sin. His people cannot initiate anything with God; he is the initiator. They cannot work their way back to union with him; they are wholly dependent on his action. In relationship to him they can only receive and respond, as they were created to do: to think God's thoughts after him and to obey his Holy Will, or if they prefer to exercise their freedom the opposite way, they may think Satan's thoughts after him and do his will. If God can be presented as mother or as feminine, that is, as receiver and accepter in the God/humankind relationship, where does that place his polar people? They are his children, of course, but they are growing into his bride, not his groom. A feminine God would make them the masculine pole-- exactly what Satan tempted them to think in the beginning--that they should envy and seize the authority side of the equation and "be like gods." Already the value of the role of willing obedience has been totally disparaged. In its place is the Satanic concept that Godhead is merely dominating authoritari-anism lording it over lackeys and nitwits. Thus, the significance of masculine and feminine runs very deep indeed. There is no mother in heaven other than the Blessed Mother, and she is given to us as all the mother we need. There is another heavenly mother, the Church, in that mystical dimension of her that is holy. It is her overflowing breasts that feed us (Is 66) and her warm lap that holds us. The only consort of the God who presents himself as masculine to us is ourselves. Another aspect of the gender-of-God question that appears more and more frequently in periodicals is the matter of history--the assumption The Bible's Use of Sexual Language grows that the Hebrews somehow messed up things and imposed upon the world their perverse patriarchy which they expressed in their sacred writ-ings. Their patriarchal prejudices, declare this reasoning, overpowered the more gentle goddess-religions.~2 We need to look again at that claim in light of the above and also in. light of the goddesses themselves, who were not gentle and approachable at all. Tanit, Astarte, or Astaroth demanded child sacrifices; a very bloodthirsty goddess she was, depicted with a lioness's head! The others do not stand any kind of scrutiny either. They are projec-tions from the fallen psyche of humankind and cannot stand comparison with the Holy One of Israel, I AM HE. Language and Reality It is legitimate, therefore, to object to much current writing against tradi-tional God and gender language: 1. It twists Scripture, theology, and history, even when done innocently. 2. Scripture is not just a human book--it is far too profound for that, often speaking more than the human author knew or intended. Dei Verbum says, "Since, therefore, all that the inspired authors, or sacred writers, affirm should be regarded as affirmed by the Holy Sp!rit, we must acknowledge that the books of Scripture, firmly, faithfully, and without error, teach that truth which God, for the sake of our salvation, wished to see confided to the sacred Scriptures" (DV, no. 11). Often those who adhere to this definition are pejoratively called fundamentalists, a word many who are unwilling to take Scripture wholly and seriously use much too freely in order to quiet their questioners. It is necessary to heed literary forms, the times addressed, the exact meaning of words in their contexts, and ways of perception of the times. But none of this negates the truth of the quotation above (which tran-scends all of the human aspects of Scripture), namely, that God has seen to it that this book speaks what he wants us to know: "sacred Scripture must be read and interpreted with its divine authorship in mind" (DV, no. 12). 3. In the matter of sexuality in Scripture, we are not working with mere metaphor; we are working with an analogy. An analogy points up a relation-ship between two things--a real parailelism of character or attributes. Therefore, to say that man and woman and their relationship are an analogy of God's relationship to humankind is to say that there is a real parallel in the comparison that rests in verity--in this case, because God has created the one (humankind) to be a sign of the other (God). A metaphor, on the other hand, merely suggests a likeness in some particular about two very unlike things, for instance, "That dog walks like a turtle." Feminine references to Godhead in Scripture can be seen with little effort to be sheer metaphors. ~i4~1 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 When Jesus said that he was like a hen wanting to gather his chicks, he was speaking !n metaphor he did not resemble a chicken in any regard other than this one particular. But when he said he and the Father are One, he was not speaking metaphor at all--either about Father, which I have explained above, or about their oneness. In this matter of gender language for God and of the meaning of male and female, many people are being swept along by something that they do not understand, and are taking up the mistaken values of feminism about authority/submission. Thus they .are constantly tempted to envy the mascu-line side and thereby cast aside the beauty and wholeness of Jesus' way of abject obedience, saying it does not behoove women to be obedient or to have anything to do with submission. All of this is a serious concern to the Church as we enter the third millennium, for it lies at the center of what it means to be a Catholic Christian. It is sifting those who have the heart for it from those who do not, and will eventually be seen to vindicate the Church's assertion that the Holy Spirit "leads her to perfect union with her Spouse.''~3 NOTES l Arthur Shaw, "Gender Language for God," National Catholic Register, November 12, 1989, p. 4. 2 John Pau! II, Encyclical Dominum et Vivificantem (pentecost 1986), no. 12. Italics mine. 3 Cardinal Gerald Emmett (~arter, "Do This in Memory of Me," 8 December 1983. 4 .Ibid, p. 24. 5 Ibid, p. 11. 6 Archbishop John Roach, Archbishop of Minneapolis/St. Paul, Eucharistic Celebration, November 9, 1987, National Council of Catholic Women. 7 Edith Stein, The Collected Works of Edith Stein, Volume Two, Essays on Woman (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1987), p. 62. 8 John Paul II, Pastoral Letter Mulieris Dignatatem (1989), pp. 91, 92, 98. 9 Ibid, pp. 67, 78, 84. ~0 See, among many other verses, 5:19, 26, 30, 37, 43; 6:44; 8:28. ~ C.S. Lewis, That Hideous Strength (Macmillan, 1946), p. 315. 12 See Virginia Ann Froehle, R.S.M., "Feminine Images of God Can Enhance Your Prayer and Change Your Life," St. Anthony Messenger, May 1989. This article blatantl

Issue 46.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1987. ; Modern Media and Comn~unity Vocation Directors and Sexuality Trends in Spirituality--1986 An Experience of Group Direction Volume 46 Number 2 March/April, 1987 Rl~v~l~w VOR RIz~,~c;~ous (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with faculty members of St. Louis University's Department of Theological Studies. The editorial offices are located at 3601 Lindell Blvd., Room 428: St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REvw.w RF~l_~c,~otJs is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO © 1987 by REv~.w ~:OR RV, t,~G~OtJS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription: U.S.A. $11.00 a year: $20.00 for two years¯ Other countries: add $4.00 per year (surface mail)¯ Airmail (Book Rate): $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: R~:viFzw vor~ R~:~Acaot~s: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F.X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor March/April, 1987 Volume 46 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the edilor should be sent to REVIEW I.'OR R~:~.~taotls: Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave., Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:v~:w ~'ou RE~,W.~o~s: Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393, "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. The Fi st Stage tO"Union: The Active Night Of the .Senses Susan A. Muto Doctor Muto is Director of Duquesne's Institute of Formative Spirituality (Duquesne University; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15282). St. John of the Cross' teaching in the first book of the Ascent of Mount Carmel presupposes that the sojourner has reached that stage in the spiritual life where he or she Js ready to advance beyond the beginnings of prayer and awaken to the deeper regions of divine intimacy. Thus he writes here for (advanced) beginners and persons already proficient in such virtues as detachment, humility and charity. The aim of Book One is threefold: to help an already well,formed self, one who has tasted certain pleasures and satisfactions, to unburden itself of worldly, inordinate attachments; to share the knowledge the saint has gathered through his own reading, experience, and direction as to how souls are to avoid spiritual obstacles; and to describe in concrete detail the way in which one can live in the freedom of spirit necessary, for divine union. It is wise at this point to read the poem, "One Dark Night," and return to it, for its moving images teach--more than abstract concepts can--how happy the soul is to pass through the nights of sense and spirit to union with its Beloved. In the Prologue to Book One the master says that his guides on this journey will be, above all, the desire for God, along with the background wisdom provided by Sacred Scripture and the doctrine of the Church. He immediately identifies two main obstacles to advancement, these being, in a phrase, inadequate direction and inadequate appraisal. Spiritual directors, 161 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 lacking both sufficient knowledge and experience.of what is happening to the pilgrim soul may unwittingly encourage persons to continue in their old ways. Then, too, the person himself or herself may neither know how to nor want to advance. Even if the Lord comes, they are not willing to adapt themselves to his work. They resist the flow of grace or refuse to cooperate. Thus: God gives many souls the talent and grace for advancing, and should they desire to make the effort they would arrive at this high state. And so it is sad to see them continue in their lowly method of communion with God because they do not want or know how to advance, or because they receive no direction on breaking away from the methods of beginners (AMC, I, Prologue, 3/70).* Failing to understand that God is the author of this enlightenment, ill-prepared directors may urge persons, instead of advancing, to return to former ways of prayer or to make many general confessions. They do not realize that now is not the time for such activity: Indeed it is a period for leaving these persons alone in the pu~'gation God is working in them, a time to give comfort and encouragement that they may desire to endure this suffering as long as God wills, for until then, no remedy--whatever the soul does, or the confessor says--is adequate (AMC, I, Prologue, 5/71). Having said this, St. John begins in Chapters One and Two to explain the imagery of'the "night" that will guide both him and the soul. Early evening or twilight marks the point of departure, the time of purgation, for the soul will experience deprivations of its appetites for worldly pleasure, possessiohs; powers. As one mortifies these, one is led deeper into the night--to the midnight hour of dense darkness where the only means of progress is faith, where intellect is deprived of its normal modes of knowing so that one may be made ready for the secret and intimate self-communications of God. The night eventually gives way to daybreak, to the dawn, which symbolizes the point of God's arrival, the time of love's illumination transformed into perfect union with the Lover: Thus these phases of the night encompass the threefold path of purgation, illumination, and union, not as something accomplished once and for all in linear fashion, but as an ongoing cycle of deprivation, restoration, and transformation. One discovers through the nights of sense and spirit that, as St. Teresa of Avila says, on this walk through life God alone suffices. No object of sense, no concept, image, or idea, can fulfill our infinite desire. The point of Chapter Three is to identify the first cause of this night as the "privation"~or deprivation of perverted desires or appetites. Perhaps The First Stage to Union this is St. John's way of explaining, as a necessary condition for.spiritual deepening, control of the pleasure principle. This control actually effects a rechanneling of vital energies so that they flow from and return to their transcendent source. We must go through this "night" in order to restore the equilibrium thrown off by excessive attachment to the gratifications afforded by our relations, sensually speaking, to persons, things and events. It is clear from the context of this chapter that St. John believes that all creation is good; nothing is evil in itself. Ideally we ought to proceed from the manifestations of God to God himself. In reality, due to the spiritual blindness imposed by our fallen condition, we cling frantically to these vital gratifications. By refusing to let them go, we disavow them. as pointers to their Creator. We tend to make them ultimate sources of pleasure or posses-sion. They become idols or ends in themselves. The result of not entering the night of sense deprivation is, therefore, an increase of formation igno-rance or forgetfulness of our true transcendent" nature--the dynamic that marks our most distinctive human quality. Hence, we need the "night" to reawaken our capacity to remember the Creator in our sense perception of creatures. That is to say, we must see through the visible to the invisible Reality. We are not to remain only on the surface of things but to behold in faith the depth dimension. By darkening the senses of hearing, seeing, smelling, tasting and touching, one is paradoxically free and empty of all things, even though one possesses them. In short: "Since the things of the world cannot enter the soul, they are not in themselves an encumbrance or harm to it; rather, it is the will and appetite dwelling within it that causes the damage" (AMC, 1, 3, 5/77). St. John now goes on, in effect, in Chapters Four and Five to suggest three steps to follow on this phase of the journey through the dark night to God. They are, in a word, remembrance, comparison and renunciation., In the first place, to be freed from this idle/idol illusion, one must strive to remember the right relation between creation and the Creator. Curiously enough, this re-membering has to do with dismembering, that is, of divesting ourselves of inordinate attachments to things as they are in themselves, as if they could be separated f~om their Creator. To dismember a thing as ultimate is to re-member it as dependent on God.Such detachment, while painful, helps one to appreciate things much more as manifestations of the goodness of God. By contrast, one who is clothed in these affections (versus dis-membered) will be "incapable of the enlightenment and dominating full-ness of God's pure and simple light, unless he rejects them" (AMC, I, 4, 1/77-78). Harsh as it may sound, St. John holds firm to his conviction that the light of divine union cannot be established in the soul until these (inordi-nate) affections are eradicated. A more positive way of making the point 164 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 might be to ~ay t~at when our idolizing ~lesire to take pleasure in and to possess things as such is mortified, we can appreciate them as they are in their pristine origin and beauty. We move in this way from a posture of violence and control to one of love and letting be, from an attitude of manipulation and calculation to one of compassion. A second helpful step at this stage of the journey is to set up a comparison between the finite, limited nature of things as distinct from the "how much more" of the infinite. For example, the Sea of Galilee compared to the sea of God's love is like a drop of water compared to the Pacific Ocean. Simi-larly, creatures, however beautiful, elegant and abundant they may be, com-pared to their Creator are as darkness compared to light, are as coarseness compared to grace, or ignorance compared to ability. Through this exercise in comparison, St. John introduces us to the Reality Principle, namely, he wants us to see things as they really are in their limited value and as pointers to the limitlessness of thei'r Lord. Via this comparison, we will be better able to break the tendency to make any "little beyond" into the "True Be~,ond"' and hence _to. r_is_k !nitiating a pseud.o-spirituality that invests in something finit~ the richness of the Infinite. Understanding this point of comparison enables us to read Chapter Four as a litany of praise to our Creator God: ¯ . . all the being of creatures compared with the infinite being of God is nothing . All the beauty of creatures compared with the infinite Beauty of God is supreme ugliness . All the grace and elegance of creatures compared with God's grace is utter coarseness and crudity. (AMC, l, 4, 4/79). Here St. John would agree fully with St. Paul that the wisdom of the world is mere foolishness in God's sight (1 Co 3:19). Clearly, the meaning of these statements does not intend for us to reject creaturely being, beauty, grace and ability as bad, but to place these attributes in their proper rela-tion to God. They will all pass away, but not his word. Creaturely qualities, no matter how rich, are ultimately poor in comparison to the Being, Beauty, Elegance and Wisdom of God. Our hope resides not in this or that momen-tary pleasure or possession but in God alone. If the first step out of illusion is to remember our nothingness without God, then the second step is to compare his eternal truth with whatever is temporal. The promise he makes to us is more trustworthy than any stopping place on the path of formation. Thus it is up to us to keep running the race to the end, which means not resting ultimately in anything but God, for, as St. Augustine has said so beautifully, our hearts are restless until they rest in him. Or, to again quote St. John: The First Stage to Union All the sovereignty and freedom of the world compared with the f~eedom and sovereignty of the Spirit of God is utter slavery, anguish, and cap-tivit3; . All the delights and satisfactions of the will in the things of the world in contrast to all the delight that is God is intense suffering, tor-ment and bitterness . All the wealth and, glory of creation compared with the wealth that is God is utter poverty and misery in the Lord's sight (AMC, I, 4, 6, 7/80). The third step, as suggested in Chapter Five, is the most radical, for St. John says that total renunciation is the condition par excellence for pure transformation. Here paradox prevails, Just as knowing is only possible in unknowing, so freedom of spirit or liberation is the result of detachment or renunciation. One must empty the appetite of all the natural and super-natural things which can be a hindrance to the journey to God. This kenotic experience does not happen once and for all but demands habitual effort in cooperation with the graces God is bestowing. The language here allows for no compromise: , The road and ascent to God, then, necessarily, demands a habitualeffort to renounce ~nd mortify the appetites; the sooner this mortification is achieved~ the sooner the soul re~ches the top. But until the appetiteff are eliminated, a person will not arrive, no matter how much virtue he practices. For he will fail to acquire perfect virtue, which lies in keeping the soul empty, naked and purified of every appetite (AMC, I, 5, 6/83). If we desire to climb the summit of the mount "in order to become an altar for the offering of a sacrifice of pure love and praise," we must strive to accomplish three.tasks, described through the following metaphors: first, we must "cast out strange gods," meaning that we have to let go of any affections and attachments that tend to alienate us from God; secondly, we must purify ourselves of their residue through habitual denial (saying no for the sake of a greater yes) and--for as often as we fail to do so-- through habitual, confident repentance (trusting that God's mercy responds with motherly tenderness to our misery); and, thirdly, we must take on a "change of garments," meaning that we must be clothed in a "new under-standing of God [through the removal of the understanding of the old man], and in a new love of God in God . " In this way, we move from igno-rance of who we really are toward acceptance of our being made in the form and likeness of God, of our being, as St. John puts it, "his worthy dwelling." The saint is one who says with every fiber of his or her being: "My God and my all!" One accepts this truth without flinching: "The only appetite God permits and wants in his dwelling place is the desire for the perfect fulfillment of his law and the carrying of his cross" (AMC, I, 5, 8/84). Having reflected on the meaning and demands of total renunciation and "166 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 the liberation it brings, St. John moves on in the next five chapters (Six through Ten) to analyze the harms the appetites engender in the soul. There are two main areas of harm, the one privative, the other positive. In general, unruly appetites deprive us of God's spirit. By our attachment to a created thing weoare less capable of soaring free to God. St. John relies for his reason-ing on the philosophical fact that two contraries cannot coexist in the same person. Therefore, "Since love of God and attachment to creatures are con-traries, they cannot coexist in the same will" (AMC, I, 6, 2/85). In biblical terms, rather than accept our privilege as children of God to eat at his table, we act like dogs who must eat the crumbs that fall to the floor. We refuse to rise from the "crumbs" of creatures to the uncreated Spirit of the Father. It stands to reason that "this uncreated fullness cannot find entry to a soul until this other hunger caused by the desires is expelled" (AMC, I, 6, 3/85). As to the second harm, which is positive, we must realize that numerous. impediments are wrought in the soul by inordinate appetites, the most obvious of these being that they weary, torment, darken, defile and weaken the true seeker. Our spiritual life suffers in the first place because these appe-tites weary and tire us to death. He compares them to restless, discontented children, who wear their mothers out trying to please them. Satisfied at one moment, they demand more satisfaction the next. The more one quiets their cravings, the more demanding they become. One feels increasingly agitated, disturbed, fatigued. Like the pulsion governing physical hunger or sexual need, so appetites in general are stirred to satisfy themselves endlessly. St. John makes this analogy: Just as a lover is wearied and depressed when on a longed-for day his oppor-tunity is frustrated, so is a man wearied and tired by all his appetites and their fulfillment, because the fulfillment only causes more hunger and empti-ness. An appetite, as they say, is like a fire that blazes up when wood is thrown on it, but necessarily dies out when the wood is consumed (AMC, I, 6, 6/87). Such desires make it impossible for us to live in the longing for God alone, for instead of him, weexpect them to satisfy us. It is as if we keep looking for heaven on earth. Thus we become ready victims of illusory promises of fulfillment. We give in to the pressures of consumerism. In both cases the sad reward is discontent, for we have turned unwittingly from God who alone can satisfy us. These inordinate appetites not only wear us-out, they also torment us. They gnaw at us mercilessly, as if we were bound by tight cords or tortured on a rack. The torment would be comparable to that which a person suffers who lies naked on thorns and nails; who is in pain; who knows no peace; who is always thirsty. In contrast to what happens to us when the cord of The First Stage to Union / 167 desires tightens around us, when the possessions we cling to desperately possess us, think of the liberation of the children of God. Consider the refreshing peace that is ours when we surrender our will to his. Instead of wasting our efforts, why don't we delight in the abundance of God? We should learn to see that this movement to~vard abundance is a departure from the pleasures of crea-tures, because the creature torments, while the Spirit of God refreshes'.' -Accordingly, God calls us through St. Matthew. as though he were to say: All you going about tormented, afflicted, and weighed down by your cares and appetites, depart from them, come to me and I will refresh you; and you will find the rest for your souls that the desires take away from you (Mt 11:28-29) (AMC, 1, 7, 4/88-89). Thirdly, these self-centered desires blind us. It is as if we are living behind a cloudy pane of glass that blocks out the bright sunshine. We see only a hazy image of things--not things as they really are. Due to this blindness, it is impossible for us to think clearly. It is as if the powers of our transcen-dent mind are dulled by the excessive demands of the vital or functional spheres. Both natural reason and supernatural wisdom are darkened. And when the intellect is obscured, the will becomes weak and the memory dis-ordered. The desire for const'an~ pleasure or sensual stimulation makes reflec-tive living a virtual impossibility. Things go from bad to worse because the intellect is incapable of receiving the illumination of God's wisdom; ttie will cannot embrace the pure love of God; and the memory lessens its capacity for the impression of the serenity of God's image upon it. Unless these blinding desires are mortified, one will not advance on the way of union. It stands to reason that if the~e unruly appetites lead a person, he or sh~ is bound to be blind to the'mind's appraisal powers. One reacts on impulse, without the help of a quiet attunement to the Christ form in the core of one's being. All that is released is the counterfeit form of con-cupiscence and pride. No amount of penance can overcome this darkness if one does not root out the source of the trouble, namelyl the blinding blockage of inordinate desires. They are like a ~ataract on the eye or specks of dust in°it. Until they are removed, they obstruct vision. One way or another, in this life or in the next, these appetites have to be chastised and corrected. They have to underg6 purgation before any steady progress in the spiritual life can take place. St. John laments this condition of forma-tion ignorance in language reminiscent of the prophets: Oh, if men but knew what a treasure of divine light this blindness caused by their affections and appetites deprives them of, and the number of mis-fortunes and evils these appetites occasion each day when left unmorti-fle!! . At every step we mistake evil for good and good for evil. 16~i / Review for Religious., March-April, 1987 This is peculiar to our nature. But what will happen if appetite is added to our natural darkness? . We have felt our way along the way as though blind, we have groped as if without eye,s, and our blindness has reached the point that we stumble along in broad daylight as though walk-ing in the dark (AMC, I, 8, 6, 7/91). Using even stronger language, St. John assures us that such blind desires stain ,and defile the soul, bringing it into bondage under the rule of the autarchic-pride form, and blackening the beauty of the christ form we are called to release. We are like someone who is stained by pitch or blacker than coal--and yet we are meant to be whiter than snow or milk. This is so because even the disordered soul remains in substantial union with God. It "possesses in its natural being the perfection that God bestowed when creating .it," even though in its rational being it is full of the defilement described here. We cannot grow in Christ-likeness until this defilement, is checked by formative detachment. The tragedy is that these inclinations keep us away from the peace God is drawing us toward in the life of union. incredible as it may sound: One inordinate appetite alone., suffices to make a soul so captive, dirty, and unsightly that,until the appetite is purified the soul is incapable of con-formity with God in union. This is true even though there may be no matter for mortal sin in the appetite. What thenwill b~.the ugliness of a soul entirely disordered in its passions and surrendered to its appetites? How far it will be from God and his purity (AMC, I, 9, 3/92-93). It follows that all three faculties of the soul are affected by this kind of attachment. Just as one bad spot spoils an entire garment, so intellect, memory, and will are defiled by disordered desires. . The end result is that such desires render us lukewarm, spiritually speaking. Appetites that go unmortified eventually sap the soul of the strength it needs to persevere in the practice of virtue. In this weakened state, ours is an on-again, off-again spirituality. We are usually overdependent on consolations and only sporadically attracted to steady discipline. Appetites, as it were, divide and conquer us, whereas asceticism unites our inner faculties and makes us stronger. Lacking this discipline, we feel scattered. Our faith is easily challenged. We may.be open targets for exalted schemes that promise salvation through a wide door, not a narrow gate. We would like to master God rather than allow him to master us. What matters most is not his will but our own interpretation of the easy way. Without purgation and ongoing appraisal of the direction of our spiritual life, self-gratification, not God, becomes our center. As far as St. John is concerned, this would be hell on earth. Instead of copcentrating on strength-ening our practice of virtue, all we care about is satisfying our desii~es, Little The First Stage to Union / 169 wonder, then, that they rob us of what we already have. Unmortified appe-tites result in killing our relationship with God. Because we did not put them gently but firmly to death first, they live on to kill us. For what difference does it make if we win the whole world and lose our soul? Having spelled out in vivid detail the privative and positive harms appe-tites can cause in the soul, St. John explains again in Chapters Eleven and Twelve what kinds of appetites are detrimental to the soul. To do so he distinguishes three kinds of appetites, moving from the least to the most detrimental, these being the natural ones, the "semivoluntary and the voluiatary. Natural movements, as, for example, an ear for and an attraction to good music, are of little or no hindrance to the attainment of union, provided we do not make them the center of our attention nor pass beyond the first stage of spontaneous affinity in which the rational will plays no part. Because we are a body-mind-spirit unity, because we are born with certain givens in the realm of temperament, disposition and talent, it is impossible to eradi-cate natural appetites in this life, and, were we to do so, it would most likely be deformative. TheSe movements go hand in hand with our creatureliness. One can be experiencing them in the sensitive part of one's being, as, for instance, a hunger pang, and yet be free of the desire for food at this moment, as, for instance, during a liturgy, in the rational part of one's being. These movements can even be stirring in a person who is experiencing an intense union of will in the prayer of quiet. These appetites may actually dwell in the sensory part of the soul, yet the superior part pays no attention to them, just as there can be foam on the ocean's surface and deep calm underneath the sea. One. may even feel certain sexual stirrings without in the least detract-ing from one's absorption in God in the center of one's being. As long as one pays no attention to them--rletting them buzz in and out like flies but not stopping to swat them--one need not be concerned about them. Such is not the case with the other appetites--~whether the less grave, which involve venial sin, or the most serious, which involve mortal sin. The trouble with natural movements, which are the least of them all, is that one can consent to them and be forthwith ~aught up in imperfections that are contrary to God's will. If one is to reach (he perfection of union with God through one's will and love, it is obvious that one must be freed from every appetite, howe~,er slight. One must have the strength and freedom to be able--in the face of temptation--to refuse consent. There is a difference between "ad~,ertence" Or "knowingly" falling into imperfections, and "inad-vertence" or falling without much knowledge or control of the matter. These are the semivoluntary sins because of which it is said that the just man will fall seven times a day and rise up again. Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 The real problem resides with the voluntary appetites. Anyone of these, even the most trifling, is sufficient to impede union. Especially problematic are the "habitual appetites," because scattered acts rooted in diverse desires are not such a hindrance. They are not a determine~l habit--yet ultimately the soul must be liberated of these too since they both proceed from and may lead to habitual imperfection. Habitual, voluntary imperfections that are not completely mortified not only stand in the way of divine union but also hinder spiritual prog~ress as such. St. John gives some examples of what he means by habitual imperfections (those deformed dispositions that prevent us from responding fully and freely to the call to love). ¯ . . the common habit of loquacity; a small attachment one never really desires to conquer, for example, to a person, to clothing, to a book or a cell, or to .the way food is prepared, and to other trifling conversa-tions . Any of these habitual imperfections, and attachment to them, causes as much harm to an individual as ,would the daily commission of many other imperfections (AMC, I, 11, 4/97). Harsh as it may sound, St. John will not compromise his conviction that such an attachment, however trifling it ma~, seem, will make it impossible in the long run for one to progress in perfection. Something as simple as insisting on the same place in a church pew, and compelling others to crawl over one, can hinder the spiritual flight the saint is talking about. The point is: It makes little difference whether a bird is tied by a thin thread or by a cord. For even if tied by thread, the bird will be prevented from taking off just as surely as if it were tied by cold--that is, it ~vill be impeded from flight as long as it does not break the thread . This is the lot of a man who is attached to something: no matter how much virtue he has he will not reach the freedom of divine union (AMC, I, 11, 4/97). In one text after another, St. John comes back to this issue. How regret-table that a soul laded like a rich vessel with the wealth of good deeds, spiritual exercisesand virtues never leaves port because one lacks the courage to break the rope of a little satisfaction, attachment or affection. God gives them the power to sever other stronger cords while they cling to some childish act or thing God ask~ them to overcome for love of him. Not only do they fail to advance; they even turn back for so ,mething that amounts to no more than a thread or a hair. And, "Everyone knows that not to go forward on this road is to turn back, and not to gain ground is to lose." The goal of union demands that we do not stop on the road, but that we continually mortify our appetites rather than indulge them. For how can a log of wood be transformed into the fire if a single degree of heat is lacking to its prepa- The First Stage to Union ration? Similarly, itis St. John's contention that the soul "will not be trans-formed in God even if it has only one imperfection." This is so because a person has only one will, and if this is encumbered or occupied by any-thing, it will not possess the freedom, solitude and purity requisite for divine transformation. Complementing these clarifications from Chapter Eleven are a few of his Sayings of Light and Love, for example, Saying 23--"He who does not allow his appetites to carry him.away will soar in his spirit as swiftly as the bird that lacks no feathers" (668). Returning to the topic of the kinds of harm the appetites can cause in the soul, St. John explains, in regard to privative evil or the loss of grace, that only the voluntary appetites whose object may involve mortal sin can do this~completely--that is, deprive the soul of grace in this life, and glory, the possession of God, in the next. The positive evils (weariness, torment, blindness, defilement, weakness) correspond in general to a turning toward creatures, just as the privative involve an aversion from God. Naturally, the degree of harm depends on whether the appetite leads to mortal or venial sin, whether it is voluntary or semivoluntary. The harm. caused by each appe-tite can be direct or indirect. For example, vainglory positively harms the soul in all the ways mentioned, but it most principally darkens and blinds it. The point to keep in mind is that all these evils together oppose the acts of virtue, which generate the contrary and corrective effect. For example, a virtuous act produces in one mildness, peace, comfort, light, purity, and strength; an inordinate appetite brings with it torment, fatigue, and so on. In short: "Through the practice of one virtue all the virtues grow, and similarly, through an increase in one vice, all the vices and their effects grow" (AMC, I, 12, 5/100). Don't we all know from experience (think of that overstuffed feeling after a too rich meal) that "the appetite when satisfied seems .sweet and, pleasant, but eventually the sour effect is felt." We cannot avoid this basic truth that if and when we allow ourselves to be carried away by our appetites, the bitter effect of losing our-selves in vitalistic feelings or functionalistic preoccupations is inevitable. Such is not the case with the natural, involuntary appetites. Though disturbances in this realm may seem to defile one, the actual resistance of them has the opposite effect. In this struggle one wins strength, purity and many other blessings, for as our Lord told St. Paul: "Virtue is made perfect in weakness" (2 Co 12:9). Since, in conclusion, it is the voluntary appetites that bring on all these evils--and even more--the chief concern of spiritual directors with their directees ought to be the "immediate mortification of every appe-tite." Nothing less than this emptiness-will liberate them. We come now to the famous Chapter Thirteen of Book One of the Ascent in which St. John delineates some counsels pertaining to the active night 179 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 of the senses or how one can conquer and overcome voluntary appetites. Though one is doing what one can, this very action is dependent on the "already-thereness" of God's grace, prompting one to enter this night and thereby come "quickly" to the passive way in which God accomplishes this work in us. What is this "abridged method" that leads us from~nothing to everything, from emptiness to fullness, from renunciation to liberation, from being bound to soaring free? It proceeds in a series of steps, which we shall summarize here. 'First and foremost comes the habitual desire to imitate Christ in all of one's deeds. Nothing is more important on the way of perfection than bring-ing our lives into conformity with his. This being with the Christ form implies the ongoing reading (lectio continua) of the Scriptures together with their more concentrated study (lectio divina). Knowing him through his words and actions, we can better emulate his attitudes in our own situation, thus drawing our entire existence more and more into union and communion with his. It follows that to succeed in this imitation, we need to calm down and by and large renounce sensory satisfactions severed from that which gives honor and glory to God. We cannot do this on basis of willpower alone; our motivation must emerge not from fear but from our love of the Lord who came to show us how we are to go through him to the Father. His one desire in life was to fulfill the Father's will, which "he called his meat and food" (Jn 4:34). What does this decision mean concretely? The key resides in the phrase "do not desire," and it means do not desire to hear, . look upon, act, take pleasure in anything that is unrelated to the service and glory of God. St. John would never be against enjoying good music, if we have an ear for it, of appreciating the beauty of art or nature, or in delivering or hearing a moving sermon. What bothers him is our tendency to stop at this literal level instead of going through and beyond it to the transliteral, sacred mystery. One cannot help but experience satisfaction in these sensory goods. The important directive is not to desire the gratifica-tion as such but to desire the God who gratifies. By this method, we leave the senses, as it were, in darkness and, from the spiritual point of view, "gain a great deal in a short time." Such vigilance, perhaps understood as purity or singleness of heart, leads to the tranquilizing or harmonizing of the natural passions of joy, hope, fear, and sorrow--four emotions that constitute the basis of the active purga-tion of the will by love in Book III, Chapter Sixteen ff, of the Ascent. Here it is sufficient to present a few maxims that represent a first formula for pacifying these passions while practicing many virtues. Note here as well that what we are pacifying is the passion for (inordinate attachment to) satis- The First Stage to Union / 17'3 factions that are self-centered; expectations that are willful; anxieties rooted in our search for security; and depressions due to lack of control, and not having things go our way. Only if we understand this can we understand and accept as wise these well-known maxims: Endeavor to be inclined always: not to the easiest, but to the most difficult; not to the most delightful, but to the harshest; not to the most gratifying, but to the less pleasant; not to what means rest for you, but to hard work; not to the consoling, but to the unconsoling; not to the most, but to the least; not to the highest and most precious, but to the lowest and most despised; not to wanting something, but to wanting nothing; do not go about looking for the best of temporal things, but for the worst, and desire to enter into complete nudity, emptiness and poverty in everything in the world (AMC, 'I, 13, 6/102-103). This passage may seem life-denying, slightly masochistic, to say noth-ing of the impossibility of reaching or doing, if we overlook the crucial phrase at the beginning, which says "Endeavor to be inclined always . " This is the same as saying "Strive," "Try," "Foster the inclination" to develop that "sixth sense" that guides our call to be a true follower of Christ, which implies inevitably to deny ourselves and to take up our cross for his sake. As witnesses to the Gospel, we ought to be ever more proficient in detecting what in us operates on basis of the pride form and what in us gives assent to the Christ form. For did he not choose the "narrow way" that was, by human standards, most diffic.u~lt, harshest, less pleasant? Did he not work so hard to accomplish our salvation that he had nowhere on which to rest his head? Was his agony not unconsoling? Was he not numbered among the least of men? Among the most despised? What did he want except to fulfill the will of the Father? If this is true, and if we want to walk with him, then we too must practice the poverty of spirit by which he emptied himself and became like a slave for our sake. Thus in these counsels, St. John is indicating concretely how we are to accomplish the imitation of Christ. With his help, we can learn to embrace them earnestly and overcome the aversion we may feel toward them. By entering into nothingness, we enter into nothing-butness--for nothing but God will satisfy the heart that loves him. Such a life practiced with order and discretion (for these mortifications are means toward union, not union itself), enable us to live in faithfulness to our unique call to discipleship. What is easiest and what is most difficult depends, of course, on who we "174 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 are. It may be easiest for a research scientist not to spend tedious hours in his laboratory looking for formulas that will benefit human health when he would rather be on the golf course. Hence, what is difficult and done for Christ is to maintain his place in the lab, putting his God-given gifts to work. For another, the most difficult.may be to overcome his shyness and meet colleagues on the golf course, thus tempering his workaholic ten-dency and relaxing so he may be a better servant for the Lord. These decisions are dependent on the appraisal powers of our transcendent mind and will, but behind this appraisal stands the basic counsel, "Endeavor to be inclined always" to imitate Christ and to be ready to do what is most consonant with our call to radical discipleship. This commitment will inevitably lead us through the narrow way of the night of the senses, for we will have to die to the old, unredeemed, fleshy pride form, the "pride of life," as St. John calls it, for this "concupiscence" reigns in the world, as separated from God, and gives rise to all the appe-tites. Toward this pride form, we are to try to act with contempt, speak with contempt, and think with contempt. Nothing short of this radical rejec-tion of pride will ready us for radical discipleship. This contemptuous no is for the sake of a greater yes. We are saying no to formation ignorance, to its remote cause which is the pride form, and to its proximate causes, such as the immersion in vitalism, the escape in functionalism, the evasion of interformative responsibility. In saying no to the pride form, we are taking the first necessary step to combating demonic seduction (the deception that we are in charge of our destiny) and growing strong in Christ for the greater struggle to come in the dark night, where our only guide is faith. These counsels are thus an essential preliminary for formation freedom. For only if we desire nothing can we allow God to give us all. In summary, to mortify "the concupiscence of the flesh" means to ceas~ allowing the vital dimension of the life form to be a substitute for the tran-scendent. It means the end of downward transcendence. To mortify "the concupiscence of the eyes" means to cease allowing the functional dimension to dominate our existence with its penchant for envious competition and ego control. It means the end of horizontal transcendence. And, ultimately, to mortify "the pride of life" means to root out the source of our trouble and to pursue upward transcendence, in which the vital and functional spheres become servants of the ascent to God. Such are St. John's basic instructions for climbing to the summit, "the high state of union." Now perhaps we can understand and absorb with relief his concluding counsels., for if we read them properly, they will tell us to desire nothing in order to allow God to give everything. Thus: The First Stage to Union / 175 To reach satisfaction in all desir~e its possession in nothing. To come to possess all desire the possession of nothing. To arrive at being all desire to be nothing. To come to the knowledge of all desire the knowledge of nothing. To come to the pleasure you have not you must go by a way in which you enjoy not. To come to the knowledge you have not you must go by a way in which you know not. To come to the possession you have not you must go by a way in which you possess not. To come to be what you are not you must go by a way in which you are not. When you turn toward something you cease to cast yourself upon the All. For to go from all to the All you must deny yourself of all in all. And when you come to the possession of the all you must possess it without wanting anything. Because if you desire to have something in all your treasure in God is not purely your all. In this nakedness the spirit finds its quietude and rest. For in coveting nothing nothing raises it up and nothing weighs it down, because it is in the center of its humiliiy. When it covets something in this very desire it is wearied. What St. John is saying in these remarkable verses is that one will reach satisfaction in all, possession of~all, being all one desires, only if one desires nothing but God. One will know much in the knowledge and remembrance that one is no-thing. One is a child of God, emerging from him and returning to him--not an object of one's own pleasure or satisfaction, but his child, with all the dignity that one is afforded thereby. Thus if we want a pleasure higher than any vital stimulation, if we want an understanding greater than any reason can conclude, if we want to possess more than any collection of material or spiritual goods can yield, if we want to be who we most deeply are, then we must follow this narrow way of 176 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 enjoying what we don't know, of understanding One who is incomprehen-sible, of possessing what we can never fully own--for the divine mystery will ~ilways escape our urge to master it. Indeed, to be who we are we must go by this way in which our pride form is not, in which we are increasingly naughted, in which it is noI longer we who live but Christ who lives in us. Every time we turn toward some thing, person, or event as ultimate or absolute, we turn away from the Lord of all. We cease to cast ourselves upon his mercy, forgiveness, love. To go from the all (God's gifts every-where) to the All (God himself), we must deny ourselves of the All (God), that is, the illusion that the All can be found in or contained in all. God is beyond every little idol we try to create. And even when we possess him, we must do so in a letting-be attitude, without wanting anything but him as he reveals himself. Because if we desire to have something, for example, more consolations or signs of his love, then our treasure in God is not purely or wholly in him as our all, but only in his consolations. The more we reflect on this message, the more we discover that only in this nakedness, this emptiness of spirit, can the soul find its rest. In coveting, in desiring, nothing but God's will, one experiences real tranquil-lity. Whether in adversity or prosperity, whether in consolation or desola-tion, nothing raises one up and nothing weighs one down. It is a blessed state to live in the center of one's humility, to walk graciously in the truth of who one is. Coveting something produces the opposite effect: weariness and torment. For nothing can bring to rest our restless soul save union with God--and it is toward this union that St. John fires our love with urgent longings. Book One closes with two short chapters, which really provide a transi-tion to Book Two. The.phrase St. John comments upon points to the main effect of the active night of sense, namely, "Fired w.ith love's urgent long-ings." The result of this initial purgation of the appetites is a more intense enkindling of another love: a better love, the love of God above all else. The motivation for giving up these attachments must be neither fear of punishment nor the presumption of merit but the freedom, based on faith and love, tb choose a higher good. "By finding his satisfaction and strength in this love, a man will have the courage and constancy to deny readily all other appetites" (AMC, I, 14, 2/105). Such love is not static, but dynamic; it is a longing love. Since the sensory appetites are always in a state of "craving," spiritual desires must be fired with other more "urgent longings." Lacking this transcendence,dynamic, the soul will not be able to overcome the yoke of absolutized vital impulses and functional ambi-tions (what St. John calls the "yoke of nature"); nor will one be able to enter the first night of sense, and certainly one will not have the courage The First Stage to Union / 17"/ to live in the darkness of all things--not by rejecting them as such but by denying the desire for them as if they could provide the fulfillment God alone can offer. St. John will deal with these matters more fully in upcoming Books on the active night of the spirit (which will discuss the purification of our spiritual faculties, intellect, memory and will by, respectively, faith, hope, and love). At least to have passed through the night of the mortification of the senses, the night in which the house of self-will is stilled, is itself a "sheer grace." God's grace, his always active love, has released us already from this prison. But because of our fallenness, "flesh" is still subject to the passions and unruly appetites. To be liberated from this bondage in a way that is unimpeded by its enemies (world, flesh and devil) is for the soul an unspeakably wonderful grace. To achieve this liberation to the full, one must, so to speak, leave the Egypt of sensory satisfaction and cross the desert of spiritual deprivation. When the house of willful appe-tites is quieted through the mortification of sensuality, then the soul is free to walk in genuine freedom, enjoying union with the Beloved. It is to this next phase of renunciation for the sake of greater liberation that one must now turn, keeping in mind this saying of St. John's: "If you purify your soul of attachment to and desire for things, you will understand them spiritually. If you deny your appetite for them, you will enjoy their truth, understanding what is certain in them" (Sayings o fLight andLove, 46/671). *All quotations can be found in references by paragraph and page number. Collected ~'orks of St. John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D., ICS Publications, Institute of Carmelite Studies, Washington, D.C. The Eucharist: Heart of Religious Community Susan Wood, S.C.L. Sister Susan Wood teaches theology at Saint Mary College (Leavenworth, Kansas 66048). This article is the fruit of her reflection in anticipation of her community's General Chapter last summer. As she writes, "Paradoxically, what may be most specific sometimes touches what is true universally." The daily celebration of the Eucharist is a focal point of our lives a source of our charity a fount of inspiration in our mission a sign and means of unity and nourishment. Constitution, #23 Today many sisters are asking whether we can continue to say that the Eucharist is a focal point of our lives. Quite simply, some say, for many of us our daily schedules prohibit a daily eucharistic celebration. Others question how the Eucharist can be expressive of unity in a situation where the worshipping community does not know one another. Still others wonder whether we should celebrate Eucharist at all if we find ourselves divided and still in need of reconciliation with one another. They remind us that Jesus said to leave our gift at the altar and be reconciled with our sister and brother before offering our gift. If we inquire further, we discover yet more serious roots of the current questioning of the place of the Eucharist in our religious lives. The Eucharist may appear to be a devotional practice which, while important, is somehow peripheral to other concerns which claim our energies. The real task that 178 The Eucharist: Heart of Community / 179 the question of the place of the Eucharist in our lives sets before us is the identification of what constitutes the center of our common life. Is our service of the poor our focal point? Is our common life? Does the inspiration for our religious adaptation and reform repose in fundamentally non-sacramental realities such as community, authority, Chapter enactments, the Constitution, our apostolates, our charism? Or can we say that our sacramental life is our center, and that all these important, but non-sacramental, aspects of our life are means rather than ends in themselves. That is, they are the means of extending and making concrete and specific the sacramental reality which first defines our life together. These pages cannot solve the problems of conflicting schedules; nor do they pretend to offer a complete theology of the Eucharist. They do propose, however, to examine some connections between the Eucharist and religious community. It is only after we grasp this connection that we will be equipped to address the more concrete questions concerning our daily eucharistic celebration. Religious Life: An Ecclesial Life The basis for the connection between the Eucharist and religious com-munity is, first, the relationship between religious life and the Church and, second, the close association between the sacraments of baptism and Eucharist. The first presupposition is that religious life is fundamentally ecclesial. More than simply a manner of living within the Church, religious life is directly oriented to the Church. This is evident within our own tradition when we recall St. Vincent de Paul's description of the Daughters of Charity as "daughters of the Church." The ecclesial character of religious consecra-tion is further evident in its sacramental foundation, baptism. In baptism we are incorporated into the body of Christ and his Church and our religious life is an attempt to live out the implications of our baptism, and thus this incorporation, in a radical way. As a radical living out of the baptismal commitment, religious life is equally a living out of our identity as ecclesial women. This theology appears in our Constitution where we state: As Christians united personally by baptism to Jesus Christ and to his body, the Church, the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth . . . are women who view baptism as the most significant event in our lives and who have responded freely to the Divine call to express this consecration more fully by profession of the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity and obedience lived in apostolic and communal love (Constitution, n. 3). The decree of the Second Vatican Council, Perfectae Caritatis, refers Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 to this ecclesial~orientation when it urges religious to "more and more live and think with the Church," and "dedicate themselves wholeheartedly to its mission (n. 6).'.' If our unity as a Church is the unity in the Spirit of the body of Christ, and if our identity as religious women is inseparable from 0u¢ identity as ecclesial women, then it follows that the source of our unity is radically identical with that of the Church. In other words, our unity is baptismal and eucharistic. From this close association between religious and ecclesial life, it follows that the relationship between the Eucharist and religious community will be analogous to that between the Eucharist and the Church. The Unity of Baptism and Eucharist The second theological presupposition is that baptism and Eucharist are intrinsically related. Consequently, if religious life is a radical living of the baptismal commitment, it is no less a eucharistically centered life. The Eucharist is not simply that which we receive when we come together as the Church. Nor is it primarily a celebration of who we are as a believing community. The Church does not exist prior to the Eucharist, but is formed and created by it. This may appear at first as paradoxical, for in a sense a minister and community are necessary for the celebration of the sacrament. One may also object that the Christian community is formed by baptism rather than the Eucharist. This, however, ~eparates the sacraments of initia-tion when they should instead be seen as a unity. Baptism is indeed incorpora-tion into the Church, but the culmination or fulfillment of the sacraments of initiation, and thus baptism, is the Eucharist. Initiation into the Church is incomplete without the reception of the Eucharist which is incorporation into the historical body of Christ sacramentally present in our world. This is evident in the rite of initiation in the Eastern Church where baptism, confir-mation and Eucharist are conferred within the same ceremony. Baptism and the Eucharist.are closely associated, first, because both are intrinsically related to Christ's Paschal Mystery. In the Eucharist we proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes (1 Co 11: 26). In the eucharistic sacrifice the victory and triumph of Christ are again made present (Sacrosanctum Concilium, I. 6). In baptism we are plunged into the Paschal Mystery of Christ, die with him to sin, are buried with him, and rise with him to a new life in Christ (Rm 6:4; Ep 2:6; Col 3:1; 2 Tm 2:11). Second, both baptism and the Eucharist are means of incorporation into the body of Christ. The text of 1 Co 12:12-13 makes this clear regarding baptism: Just as a human body, tho.ugh it is made up of many parts, is a single unit because all these parts, though many, make one body, so it is with Christ. The Eucharist: Heart of Community In the one Spirit we were all baptized, Jews as well as Greeks, slaves as well as citizens, and one Spirit was given to us all to drink. It is precisely as members of Christ's body that we share in his death and resurrection through baptism (Rm 6: 3-4). The Eucharist is a further means of participation in the body of Christ as is evident in 1 Co 10: 16-17: The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread. In the final analysis, therefore, we are incorporated in Christ by both baptism and the Eucharist, the principal reason why they are both considered sacraments of initiation. Initiation into the Church differs from initiation into human societies precisely because it is sacramental. This means not only that through the sign of the sacrament we are initiated into membership in the body of Christ, but that this union with Christ is really achieved now, and is itself a sign of the final eschatological union that all the blessed will share with Christ and with one another. The Eucharist is causative of the Church because the unity of the Church is not that of an aggregate of individuals, a collectivity which exists prior to or independently of Christ, but the unity of a body. In the Eucharist we are nourished by the body and blood of Jesus Christ, and, being vivified by that body, we become one. Consequently, the unity of the Church does not exist metaphysically prior to or apart from its union with and incorporation in Christ. To grasp this profound interconnection between the Church and the Eucharist requires that we think sacramentally rather than according to the categories of human societies and organizations. The temptation throughout history has been to pattern the Church according to the models of society current at the time--in our day the democratic model. The Mystery in which we are invited to participate transcends merely human structures. An example of the shift required in our perception is that while that which we eat is normally transformed into our own flesh and blood, in the sacrament we. are assimilated to Christ, not he to us. The unity of the Church is not a moral unit~, sustained by the good will and cooperation of those consenting to be united, but rather is the unity created on the initiative of Christ who offers us the New Covenant. The Ecclesial Dimension of the Eucharist We believe that sacraments are efficacious signs of God's grace. Therefore we believe that what is signed by the sacrament achieves its effect in us both Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 individually and communally. The sign of the Eucharist is our partaking of Christ's body, efficaciously signified by the bread and wine. Sacramental realism assures us that that which is both signed and effected is our union with Christ, and, as 1 Co 10 indicates~ our union with one another. In tradi-tional eucharistic theology this effect of the Eucharist has been- called the res tantum, and is none other than the unity of the ecclesial body, the Church. This unity is the union of the members with their head, Christ. Since the middle of the twelfth century, largely in response to the eucharistic controversy involving Berengarius, eucharistic theology has fre-quently concentrated on eucharistic realism. Great care has been exerted to emphasize the fact that Christ is really and truly present in the Eucharist. While this truth is of incomparabl~ worth within eucharistic theology, the care to correct a heretical eucharistic theology led to the neglect of the ecciesial dimension of the sacrament. A eucharistic piety that focuses too narrowly and exclusively on the real presence often misses the ecclesial signification of the sacrament, as well as its context within salvation history. The Eucharist in addition to and precisely because it is the sacramental presence of Christ within history is anamesis (remembrance) as well as antici-pation. As remembrance it is the representation of the sacrifice of Christ as well as the fulfillment of the typological prefigurations of Christ's sacrifice in the Old Testament. As anticipation it looks ahead to the final eschato-logical union of all the blessed with Christ at the end time. The final union of the members of Christ with their head is what St. Augustine called the "whole Christ." Thus the Eucharist is an instance of what theologians call "realized eschatology." That is, that which will be complete at the end time eschatologically is already present in a real, but incomplete form. We are really united with Christ now in the present time, but this union prefigures a complete union for which we work, pray, and wait. In a similar manner, we are really sacramentally united with one another, but our unity is still imperfect. Concrete Consequences of a Eucharistic Ecclesiology Once this is seen, certain corollaries become evident. First, the referent of the sacrament, that is, that which it signs, is both the Christ who died, rose and ascended to the Father as well as the eschatological union of all the blessed with Christ. Thus the sacrament effects this union in the present, but its ultimate referent transcends the present as it anticipates this final union. This means that the primary referent of the Eucharist is not the immanent worshipping community or exclusively the presence of the Christ within the community. The Eucharist is not a celebration of unity achieved apart from our union with Christ and prior.to the Eucharist, but effects The Eucharist: Heart of Community / 183 and anticipates that for which we hope as Christians--final, irrevocable union in Christ. This means that we do not wait until we experience perfect union before we approach the Eucharist. If a community stands in need of reconcilia-tion, it should indeed work so that it is in fact what it proclaims itself to be in word, namely, Christian community. However, just as we do not save ourselves but ask for salvific grace, so our reconciliation is not entirely our work but something worked within us by the grace of God with our cooper-ation. The Eucharist is not only a sign of unity, but effects unity and recon-ciliation; Secondly, the community which gathers for eucharistic worship is not required to be an intimate, homogeneous group. The universality of the kingdom of God, the body of Christ, indicates that those ecclesial communities which most accurately reflect the universal vocation to union with God may be the most diverse of groups, often anonymous, where faith in our common vocation transcends the diversity of races, nations and walks of life. This does not me.an that we should not work for a more ideal realization of como munity but rather that such an ideal should not become a prior condition of eucharistic worship. Third, although in the Eucharist we receive the sacramental presence of Christ, the primary focus of the sacrament is communal rather than indi-vidual. We approach the Eucharist as a Christian community who celebrates the great things the Lord has done for us in his life, death and rising. The Eucharist as anamesis, that is, remembrance, sacramental presence and pledge of our. future hope, reminds us that we are a people in the midst of the history of God's salvific plan for us. This communal and historical focus of the sacrament is the primary reason why communion services can never be an adequate substitute for the celebration of the Eucharist. These services, even under the best of circumstances, emphasize the individual's reception of the sacramental presence of Christ rather than the community's immersion in salvation history with its celebration of a past event sacramentally present, itself a sign of a future reality. The Eucharist is properly word and sacra, ment, the sacrament representing more than the presence of Christ's body and blood. It is also the presence of that sacrifice which renders that body and blood efficacious for our salvation. Objective vs. Subjective Meaning of the Eucharist One of the problems today is that we may~be confusing "meaning" with "meaningfulness." The first is an objective category while the second is s~ubjective. When we experience the liturgy as dull and lifeless, apparently divorced from the rest of our lives, we are tempted to say that it has "lost Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 meaning" for us. In this instance what we really mean is that it has ceased to be meaningful. The Eucharist obviously has not lost its objective meaning as the sacramental presence of Christ within human history, as the Christian community's remembrance and representation of Christ's salvific death and rising, as an efficacious sign of our future union in Christ. Our experience, therefore, is more of a statement about ourselves than about the objective meaning of what takes place at our eucharistic liturgy. It is a statement 6f our inability to consciously live and celebrate what we believe, of the incongruity between our life as a Christian community and what the Eucharist calls us to be as a community. Indeed, we may experience fragmentation, boredom and disunion but this experience is a call to recon-ciliation, a call to approach the altar once again so that that which we cele-brate liturgically may be integral with the whole of our life, a call to pray for a more lively faith. It is likewise a call to contribute our best efforts so that our liturgical prayer, through sign and symbol, awakens, fortifies and expresses our faith. Even though it is a mistake to confuse meaning with meaningfulness, we are not excused from the efforts necessary for good liturgical celebration, including personal prayer and reading of Scripture as well as the more proxi-mate preparations of celebrants, musicians and artists. Sacraments are signs, and signs are of their nature human, subject to expressing more or less adequately what they signify. The liturgical renewal enjoined by Vatican II calls for a more active participation on the part of the faithful so that the liturgy can be the "outstanding means by which the faithful can express ~n their love, and manifest to others, the mystery of Christ and the real nature of the true Church" (Sacrosanctum Concilium, n. 2). Within eucharistic theology there exists an objective and subjective di-mension of the sacrament. Traditionally this has been referred to as the opus operatum, the work effected by Christ, and the opus operantis. This latter term originally referred to the disposition of the celebrant. The dis-tinction between the two terms explained how a Mass celebrated by a priest in a state of serious sin was still valid although not spiritually fruitful for him. Recent writers have extended the meaning of opus operantis to refer to the cooperation with and active reception of grace by the believer. In the opus operatum, the objective element of the sacrament, we are assured that Christ is really present. In the second, the subjective element, we receive grace, and the sacrament is "fruitful" with our growth in faith, hope and charity. The question of meaning vs. meaningfulness can, in part, be expressed as the relation between the objective reality of the sacrament, the opus oper-atum, and the subjective disposition of the recipient, the opus operantisl The Eucharist: Heart of Community Our sacramental celebrations may appear arid when the ecclesial reality of the sacrament does not find expression in a renewed commitment to Christ and his Church. Some writers, including Karl Rahner, discuss the frequency of eucharistic celebration with reference to the opus operantis, saying that this frequency should be governed by the conditions which make it possible for us to receive the sacrament fruitfully, with conscious faith and the psychic energy necessary to enter subjectively into that which we celebrate objectively. Two extremes are to be avoided. First, within the context of the communal character of the Eucharist, it is obvious that it is not question of increasing grace by multiplying the number of eucharistic celebr.ations one attends. This not only emphasizes the individual rather than the com-munal nature of the Eucharist, but it also quantifies grace, distorting its primarily relational character. However, it is equally a mistake to expect each 0"f our eucharistic celebrations to be a peak religious experience. An excessive emphasis on our preparation and readiness for the Eucharist makes it our work rather than God's gift and action on. us. In the Eucharist we are invited once again to enter into the New Covenant. Within the vicissitudes of our life we need to be invited to this oft~en, perhaps even daily. The Lord's Prayer provides,us with the model for the dailiness of our eucharistic celebration for when we ask for our daily bread, this is no less than the Bread of Life. However, this emphasis on the ideal of a daily celebration need be neither slavish nor mechanistic. The essential is to realize that the Eucharist is truly the sacramental focal point of our reli-gious life together. Once this is realized and lived, the frequency of our eucharistic celebration will not be so much a question of legislation as that which is truly possible within our individual circumstances and the expression of who we are as ecclesial women. The relationship between Eucharist and religious community is parallel to the relationship between the Church and the Eucharist. Within ecclesiology today there are many theologies competing with a eucharistic ecclesiology. The search for relevance and liberation has prompted dialogue on what con-stitutes salvatio.n, whether it represents liberation from oppressive societal structures and/or whether it is more properly a release from the bondage of sin. Much of what is good within this discussion represents a healthy correction of the excessive individualism which has plagued us since the Enlightenment. An excessive emphasis on intra-worldly goals of this liberation is now being cort~ected within a broader vision of the drama of sin and grace in the world. That these same tensions are reflected in religious life is no accident since religious life is fundamentally ecclesial. In many ways a religious commu-nity is a microcosm of the larger Church. Within this perspective it is not "186 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 sufficient that we pray together, serve the poor and live a common life, We can do all these things without being a religious community. Although our charism is to serve the poor, our primary identity is not that of the social worker. Furthermore, there are times when the non-sacramental aspects of our life lead us away from our true identity as a religious community. For instance, we may become excessively work-orierited. While work for the kingdom is praiseworthy, a certain attitude distorts our work so that it becomes something which we undertake, initiate. Our events replace the Christ event. Communal efforts become our action rather than God's action on us, and the Eucharist becbmes a devotional practice rather than the most fundamental expression of the reality of our lives. The Eucharist is the heart of religious community because it is the histor-ical presence of the New Covenant which unites that community with its Lord. Our primary identity is to be a eucharistic community in union with Christ. Our service of others then flows as a consequence of what the Eucharist means--as a response of thankfulness for what the Lord has done for us, as the service modeled by. Christ at the Last Supper, as a means of facilitating the union of all in Christ. It is then that we can truly say that the Eucharist is the focal point of our lives. Good Friday, April 1, 1983 Gently running, delicate raindrops--spring rain as tears from the windows of my soul. The clear-paned pain allows me to glimpse the promise of life within the dry earth, within myself. Suffering and tears stir tender blossoms deep inside. They struggle to break through the crusty-hard shell, to lift themselves to the long-promised warmth of the loving Son. Sister Mary Therese Macys, S.S.C. 2601 W. Marquette Road Chicago, Illinois 60629 Learning from the Worldly Leo D. Davis, S.J. Father Davis, a member of the Jesuits' Oregon Province, presently resides in Italy, where he may be addressed: Via Spaventa, 4; 50129 Firenze,: Italy. "For the worldly are more astute than the other worldly in dealing with their own kind" (Lk 16:8). Desperate for American reading material while in a foreign country, ] dipped recently into one of the national best sellers of a few years .back, Peters and Waterman's In Search of Excellence: Lessons from America's Best-Run Companies (New York: Warner °Books, 1982). Though not ordi-narily a reader of business literature, I found the book absorbing, not as a study of American business success, but as an indication of why many religious institutes, including my own, fail specifically as organizations to reach their goals. Of course, we religious are not primarily in business: auxiliary to our main purposes we do run businesses. These auxiliary enter-prises, however, are not my concern in this article. Rather, I'm interested in how we organize and conduct ~urselves in spreading the Word of God and serving our neighbor. Can we learn from successful business con-cerns how to do this better? I I~ave it to the readers themselves to judge after considering Peters and Waterman's findings. The two studied sixty-two corporations in the fields of high tech-nology, consumer goods, services, industrial supplies, management and resources. They wanted to discover just what makes these firms leaders in their fields. They found that all agree on an eight point philosophy in doing business. Contr'~ry to what one might expect from business men out to make a 187 11~8 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 buck, the authors argue that hardheaded rationality is not enough to suc-ceed. International Telephone and Telegraph, for example, was managed in a rigidly national fashion, and failed. The war in Vietnam was largely run from the Pentagon by Robert McNamara's Ford Company technical "whiz kids," and we all know the outcome. Mere technique however sophisticated, won't do the trick. Planning, long and short range, is needed, but planning can often become an end in itself. Of three hundred twenty-five planning task forces studied, none had yet finished its task after three years of work. Task forces, the authors suggest, should be small, limited in time, volun-tary, and contain some senior staff. Their work should call for no addi-tional staff and produce a minimum of documentation. Follow-up on their recommendations should be swift. Paper shuffling among executives and back and forth between executives and managers can stifle all action. Analysis can lead to . paralysis. Gamesmanship and contention in committees replace action. As one executive commented, it is easier to develop a negative argument f~r doing nothing than to advance a constructive one which issues in action. The authors argue that major concerns should be dealt with one at a time. More than two objectives for a task force mean no objectives at all. There should be constant communication, constant keeping in touch with the realities and persons involved in decisions. Communications should be short and clear; the authors cite the famous practice of Procter and Gamble in restricting all memoranda to a single page. Chaotic action is preferable to no action at all. Experimentation and testing ideas in prac-tice is better than just talking about problems. Get people acting and they solve their problems, and come to believe in what they're doing. Close to the Customer As religious, we're not, as such, selling goods to customers, but we are dealing with people. What are the needs, tastes, preferences of those with whom we deal? Are we willing to put ourselves out for others? The successful companies know their clientele and go to great lengths to serve them. Thomas Watson of International Business Machines had a simple philosophy: We want to give the best customer service of any company in the world. He guaranteed answering any customer complaint in twenty-four hours. Caterpillar Tractors guarantees forty-eight hour service to any country of the world. Frito-Lay aims at a 99.5 percent rate of service in peddling their products; they will spend several hundred dollars to restock a remote store with thirty dollars worth of potato chips. But their reputa-tion for reliability in the end outweighs the short term costs. I'm reminded Learning from the Worldly of an old priest colleague of mine who was preaching to the coffee room audience on service; when a telephone call interrupted him, he told the caller to see him during office hours--and continued his harangue with no sense of incongruity. The Disney people realize what service means; sixteen-year old ticket takers at Disneyland are put through four eight-hour days of training just so they can take tickets with the Disney elan. McDonald's scores of billions of hamburgers are sold by insistence on cleanliness, efficient ser-vice, uniform quality and reliability. Burgers not sold ten minutes after cooking are thrown out; french fries, after seven minutes; and their cashiers are taught to have eye contact with the customers. The authors give an example of the extraordinary lengths to which some companies will go. When a woman complained about a foul-up with a discount air ticket, she wrote to the president of Delta Airlines. The president of the corporation himself met her at the airport and per-sonally presented her with a new ticket. All these companies stress quality. McDonald's, with seven thousand restaurants doing 2.5 billion dollars worth of business annually, tell their stockholders: Quality is the first word in McDonald's motto. Digital Com-puter's philosophy states: "Growth is not our principal goal. Our goal is to be a quality organization and'do a quality job, which means that we will be proud of our work and products for years to come. As we achieve quality, growth will come as a result." There's food for thought here for religious experiencing a decline in vocations. The lonely Maytag serviceman of the TV ads is a symbol of the company's guarantee of ten years' trouble-free operation of any machine. Hewlett-Packard is obsessed with quality; ask them about personnel, they talk quality; ask about sales, they talk quality; ask about management, they talk quality. The president of Heineken Beer says bluntly, "I consider a bad bottle of Heineken a personal insult to me." Until recently, the eighty-two-year-old founder of Marriott Hotels read every complaint card personally. Productivity Through People All members of an organization should be made aware that their best efforts are essential to success and that they will share in that success. Here again we religious in the ranks are not mere employees in the ministries of our institutes. In fact, many times we might be better off in some of America's best companies than at the hands of some religious superiors. One executive complained to the authors: People issues take up all my time. To them he was really saying that his business would be easy to run if it weren't for people. But corporations, like religious institutes, 190 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 are people. Those who work in them should be treated as adults and as partners, with dignity and respect. This doesn't mean that they be mollycoddled; they should be given reasonable and clear expectations, and practical autonomy to get the job done. In a study of school teachers, the authors point out it was found that when they held high expectations of their students, that alone was enough to cause an increase of twenty-five points in the students' IQ scores. Workers should understand what is being done and why. Peters and Waterman quote Admiral Zumwalt's method of reorganizing Navy prac-tices: What I tried hardest to do was ensure that every officer and sailor on the ship not only knew what we were about, not only why we were doing each tactical operation, however onerous, but also managed to understand enough about how it all fitted together so that they began to experience some of the fun and challenge that those of us in the top slot were having. 1 knew from experience the impact of treating sailors like the mature adults they were. Dedicated religious women and men deserve no less. Communication between superiors and ranks cannot be mere lip ser-vice, mere gimmicks, but must be a sincere effort to make all really part of the team. Sam Walton has built a company from eighteen to three hun-dred thirty stores, with sales rising from forty-five million dollars, to 1.6 billion dollars and the process made his family the richest in the United States. He always calls his employees "associates." "The key is to get out and hear what the associates have to say," he states. "It's terribly important for everyone to get involved." For him this is not lip service: one sleepless night he went down to the loading dock with four dozen donuts and talked to his "associates." He learned that they needed two more shower stalls in the wash room--and they got them. This is a sur-prising degree of concern in an executive running a 1.6 billion dollar com-pany. Again, when Thomas Watson first took over IBM, he was not out to shake up the company by wholesale transfers and firings, but to buff and polish those already in place so their performance would improve; his bone-deep belief, says his son, was respect for the individual. Peters and Waterman suggest some simple rules iia the treatment of workers: all important communication should be face to face; there should be opportunity for career education; there should be security in their posi-tions. Superiors should be accessible to all, their doors always open. Finally, there should be incentives. "A man wouldn't sell his life to Learning from the Worldly you, but he would give it to you for a piece of colored ribbon," says a war correspondent about soldiers in World War lI. The best corporations go to extraordinary lengths to reward good performance, creating oppor-tunities for showering pens, badges, buttons and medals on their people. At Mars Candy everyone on time for work during the week gets a ten percent bonus; IBM has a "gold circle" for top salespersons; Tupperware senior management spend thirty days a year at "jubilees" for outstanding performers; one company even puts gold stars on a public bulletin board after the names of those who don't miss work. Religious might well feel out of place in an atmosphere like this. Indeed, our vocation is not to look for rewards but to dedicate ourselves to the selfless service of God and neighbor. But superiors, on their side, should be aware of the value of incentives; nothing is more powerful than positive reinforcement. This, the authors advise, should be specific, tan-gible and frequent. They point to a model of motivation in a Procter and Gamble executive who, red in the face and vehement, told a Stanford University seminar: "Just because the product is toilet paper doesn't mean that Procter and Gamble doesn't make it a damn sight better than anyone else." The executive, he continues, is called to help fulfill the individ-ual's search to transcend himself or herself, to avoid isolation and the fear of helplessness, to give people a sense of being, in control of their des-tiny. High performance is based on intrinsic motivations: people must believe that a task is inherently worthwhile if they are to be committed to it. All this to sell toilet paper! Hands On, Value Driven Management The authors insist that the successful executive keeps in close touch not only with personnel but with the firm's essential business. Again Thomas Watson of IBM: "I believe the real difference between success and failure in a corporation can very often be traced to the question of how well the organization brings out the great energies and talents of its people . I firmly believe that any organization, in order to survive and achieve success, must have a sound set of beliefs on which it premises all its policies and actions. Next, I believe that the most important single factor in corporate success is faithful adherence to those beliefs. And, finally, I believe if an organization is to meet the challenge of a changing world, it must be prepared to change everything about itself except those beliefs . " The institutional leader is primarily an expert in the promotion and protection of values. The basic values: a belief in being the best; in the "" "109 / Review for Reiigious, March-April, 1987 importance of the details of execution; in the importance of people as indi-viduals; in superior quality and service; in supporting innovation and tolerating failure. The effective leader must be a master of two ends of the spectrum--ideas at the highest level and actions at the most mundane levels of detail. The top performers create a broad, uplifting, shared: cul-ture, a coherent framework within which charged up people search for appropriate adaptations. The real leader does' not force others to submit and follow him by the sheer overwhelming magic of his personality. He is influential in inspiring and strengthening them; he arouses confidence. Success in instilling values appears to have little to do with charismatic personality. Rather it derives from obvious, sincere, sustained personal commitment to the values the leader seeks to implant, coupled with extraordinary persistence in reinforcing these values. Hewlett- Packard advises its executives to wander around, being approachable, accessible, listening, keeping people informed. Others advise: don't summon people to your office; go see them. Kill grimness with laughter; maintain an atmosphere of informality; encourage exuberance. Without such hands on management, it seems nothing much happens. Stick to the Knitting By this Peters and Waterman mean, "Remain with the business you know best." Organizations that do branch out but stick close to their orig-inal purpose outperform others. Successful companies enter only those businesses that build on, draw strength from, and enlarge some central area of competence. ITT began as an international telephone company, but the tools that it took to run a phone company in Chile didn't help much in the management of newly acquired Continental Baking and Sheraton Hotels. The result was that ITT had to sell off thirty-three busi-nesses. The lesson is never acquire a business you don't know how to run. Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing, makers of Scotch tape, make fifty thousand other products and introduce one hundred new ones each year, but all is built around its central coating-and~bonding technology. Procter and Gamble is good at soap, but Pringles' potato chips, machined to uniform size in a neat box, is an apparent failure from the standpoint of consumer taste. Simple.Form, Lean Staff The authors are passionate advocates of clear, simple structural organization so that everyone knows to which boss to report. Some staff gain power by keeping everything vague and unclear. Outlaws can use the lack of clarity to their own advantage and to the detriment of the whole. Learning from the Worldly / 193 With simple organization, fewer staff are needed at headquarters to make things work. Emerson Electric, with fifty-four thousand personnel, has one hundred in corporate headquarters; Dava Industries, with thirty-five thousand, has one hundred; Schlumberger, an oil service company with six billion dollars worth of business annually, has ninety cprporate staff. The Society of Jesus in its headquarters in Rome has ninety-five on the corporate staff for only 25,500 personnel. The story goes around Jesuit circles that at one time our largest province had more departmental provincials than first year novices. "Less is more" in corporate manage-hment, say Peters and Waterman. Simultaneous Loose-Tight Properties By this the authors mean fostering a climate in which there is dedica-tion to the central values of the company combined with tolerance for all employees who accept these values. The central values must be carefully fostered and protected, yet autonomy, entrepreneurship and innovation should flourish among the rank and file. The discipline of shared values provides the framework for all the rest. It gives people confidence to exper-iment stemming from stable expectations of what really counts. Too much overbearing discipline kills autonomy but the discipline of shared values encourages innovation. Rules should reinforce positive traits and not just discourage negative ones. The company should offer meaning, provide guiding belief, create a sense of excitement, a sense of being part of the best, a sense of producing something of quality that is valued. Basic .values should be set in concrete, and executed by attention to mundane, nitty-gritty details. Every hour, everyday is an opportunity to act in sup-port of overarching themes. A lively sense of realism enforces tight disci-pline; the attention to the desires and needs of the clientele is the most stringent means of self-discipline. Autonomy and Entrepreneurship Tight discipline and preservation of basic values should not interfere with a stress on innovation, and a tolerance of failure for those who fail in the pursuit of innovation. Some companies support "skunk works" where the talented mavericks of the business brainstorm and experiment. All of this must be coupled with constant communication and the dogged persistence of innovators to put their ideas across. Interestingly enough, physical proximity is vital in this communica-tion. The authors point out that people working thirty feet apart meet each other only eight to nine percent of the time, while those working only fif-teen feet apart meet twenty-five percent of the time. They maintain that 194 / Roview for Religious, March-April, 1987 the best companies do their work in large, self-contained, campus-like headquarters outside the city. What does all this add up to? What I've tried to say in a modern idiom and detail drawn from actual studies is only what St. Paul told his Corinthians: "You know (do you not?) that at sports all the runners run the race, though only one wins the prize. Like them, run to win! But every athlete goes into strict training. They do it to win a fading wreath; we, a wreath that never fades" (1 Co 9:24-25). The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Add ress: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Modern Media and the Religious Sense of Community Matthias Neuman, O.S.B. Father Neuman is well known to our readers. His last article in these pages was entitled "Personality and Religious Adjustments in Older Candidates" (May/June, 1986). Father Neuman continues to teach at St. Meinrad Seminary; St.Meinrad, Indiana 47577. Back in the sixth century St. Benedict, in his Rule, included a short chap-ter on "The Proper Amount of Drink." To modem ears some of its sug-gestions may seem mildly humorous, yet in context a radical practicality pervades the .thought of this monastic genius. We read that monks should not drink wine at all, but since the monks of our day cannot be convinced of this, let us at least agree to drink mod-erately and not to the point of excess, for wine makes even the ffise to go astray.' Were this same St. Benedict composing a rule for a religious order of the late twentieth century it is quite likely he would feel the need to insert a chapter on "The Proper Amount of Watching Television" with similar suggestions and pleas .for moderation. For few would be the reli-gious men and women today who would agree that they should avoid all television. This article treats some of the background issues which would lead to that hypothetical modern chapter on the proper amount of television. Actually the topic goes far beyond television to include all manner of modem electronic media: radio, stereo systems, cassette players, tele-phones, VCRs and, most recently, computers (can spiritual video games be far behind'?). What religious house is there that has not felt the inva- 195 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 sion of this technology? What communities today do not admit into for-mation programs young people shaped by a high-intensity media culture? The electronic media have, for better or worse, become part of the ethos of life in twentieth-century America. My basic premise suggests that the presence of these media has influ-enced the communal shape of religious community life far more drastically than we may initially surmise. Surely the use of such media affect common schedules (viewing a late "Special" on some current event) and budgets ("Our office must have a computer!"). Beyond these surface impacts the involvement with media slowly but surely has shifted our very sense of what community means and how we associate as social persons. To media theorists one of the major human effects of all cultural media, and particularly electronic media, is to create a very specific and delimited realization of "being together," a style of how people gather and interact.'- For example, television gathers people physically, but focuses their communal attention outwardly and away from the people around them. Relentlessly sustained participation in such media experi-ences will alter slowly the way one interacts and responds in all situa-tions. Television creates an instant community which passively watches. As an interesting sidelight, when television first began to be widely commercial in the 1950s the leading American theorist on communica-tions flatly predicted that it would never be a success because "people would have to sit in a dark room and ignore each other." One might wonder how far that attitude has affected our religious sense of com-munity? Other entertainment media besides television reinforce this psy-chological separation or distancing from one's immediate surroundings and relationships. Cassettes and stereos supply individual, isolated encoun-ters with music and detached thoughts. Now with portable stereo and ear-phones we can eat, recreate, shop or work, and clearly advertise that we wish no personal contact with anyone immediately around us. The tele-phone brings instant contact over worldwide distances; we start to belong to a global network embracing an incredibly wide range of personal connections. Without our being that aware, these daily immersions into media experience adjust our expectations of personal relationships. In par-ticular they change the way we are involved with the people immediately around us. The previous issue is a critical one for vowed religious who have a spiritual stake in the meaning and practice of community life. According to the Church's law, participation in community is essential for one to be considered a religious by the Church;3 in contemporary theology the for- Modern Media and Community mation of authentic community is praised as a preeminent goal of Chris-tian life and ministry; and in many modern forms of spirituality the very notion of community inclines toward the realizing of the Trinitarian mys-tery of God.4 But with the arrival of the electronic community we had better stop and take a careful look at what precise actions are implied in the linguistic usage of "community jargon." Under the surface we may find a clash of world views taking place, a clash that undermines real com-munity, an undermining that gnaws away in the midst of people busily doing their daily work, living their lives, and talking incessantly about community as an important aspect of their lives. A brief comparison of these contrasting world views of community might focus our reflections. The ancient notion of "religious" com-munity, as traditionally used of the Church as a whole or of particular vowed communities, rested on a conviction of human solidarity borrowed from the goals, structures and attitudes of a close-knit, agrarian, craft-based or familial society. Community here meant the composite of ways that people lived, worked, prayed and played together. The goal of such sustained daily interaction was communal solidarity, mutual commitment, the sharing of hopes and values in a communality of life. The structures which embedded those goals aimed at a slow, patient, day-by-day, elbow-by- elbow building up of emotional bonds and support systems. Just as one learned to love in familially-arranged marriages, so one learned to be a member of a vowed community by the shaping of common intentions formed through daily work and prayer. These community goals and struc-tures depended on social routines of living that stressed the physical prox-imity and sharing of participants over the long haul of life. This religious vision of community was a prize to be won through sustained work and prayer. The concluding words of the Prologue to the Rule of St. Benedict exemplify perfectly this ancient vision: Therefore we intend to establish a school for the Lord's service. In draw-ing up its regu!ations, we hope to set down nothing harsh, nothing bur-densome. The good of all concerned, however, may prompt us to a little strictness in order to amend faults and to s~ifeguard love. Do not be daunted immed!.ately by fear and run away from the road that leads to salvation. It is bound to be narrow at the outset. But as we progress in this way of life and in faith, we shall run on the path of God's commandments, our hearts overflowing with the inexpressible delight of love. Never swerving from his instructions, then, but faithfully observ-ing his teaching in the monastery until death, we shall through patience share in the sufferings of Christ that we may deserve also to share in his kingdom.5 1911 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 How divergent appears the community of the electronic mindset! It presents instantaneous intentions drawn from anywhere in the world, and on any topic, from far bey6nd the gathered viewers, and its heightened visual intensity etches those intentions into the awareness of participants. Electronic media joins the viewers automatically to a national and world community. The communal intentions that bind us here are all given by what the media chooses to focus on and present. The solidarity of the elec-tronic community does not flow from a patient and lengthy building up of common intentions, but,from the impulsive response to instantaneously given themes. It is a fragile solidarity indeed. Its communality depends on intensity to maintain interest. (So it must deal with a topic ever more heatedly-~or find a new topic.) And media are powerfully effective! By themselves the media constitute a very real and engaging psychological support system. Any individual can retire to the privacy of his or. her room and by means of TV, radio or stereo be in touch with any particular psychological input (to soothe, to excite, to reinforce love, to wal,low in nostalgia). It is a support system that dispenses with flesh and blood people. It is instant electronic community, and is radically different from the older notion of religious community founded on agrarian, craft and familial social patterns. This latter style has been the traditional founda-tion of vowed religious community life in the Church, but it is being increasingly challenged by the newer media style. The critical point I wish to raise is this: if religi6us communities of today believe they can continue to stress and intend the older form of com-munity while allowing the ever-spreading presence and use of electronic media, they are sadly deceiving themselves. Houses in which many indi-viduals hold active ministerial positions in the Church and society must face the challenge more acutely; these people need bolstering in stronger doses. Their increased emotional drain begs for a multitude of psy-chological supports. Make no mistake! Electronic media constitute a pow-erful psychological support system, and by themselves they can under-mine the traditional ethos of familial religious community. The inherent reason that electronic media form such a strong psy-chological buttress lies in their ability to alter the fundamental shape of our sense perceiving. Lengthy exposure to media causes differences in the balancing of sight, hearing, touch and balance. Marshall McLuhan, the great pioneer of media theory, noted that electronic media create an instant sensorium, synthesizing sight, sound and touch simultaneously.~ The music video (MTV) is a perfect example of instantaneous multiple sensual involvement. Through this complex sensory input the perceiver's emotions "heat up" quickly; they can attain an intense level of inner Modern Media and Community involvement, and even psychologically remove the perceiver from the pressures of the present. If I happen to be dealing with some specific vexing problem and my feelings are.tired or conflictive, how smoothly a change comes from flipping on the TV or putting a favorite record on the stereo. These media generate an instant, sensual response and become a psychological support system in themselves. Many aspects of the traditional style of community life have already been affected by the intrusion of media into the daily life of religious houses. The structure and frequency of common recreation has altered sig-nificantly. I've heard many individuals either lament or factually describe the practical disappearance of large community-recreation sessions, the evening walks of many people, the diminishment of common reading rooms. In their place have appeared public television rooms, usually more than one to accommodate smokers and non-smokers (for men's houses) or Dan Rather or Tom Brokaw fans (for women's houses). In some communities the time of the evening news program has influenced the daily schedule of meals arid prayer, although the more recent advent of the video cassette has eliminated this temporary problem. The electronic media have subtly altered what people look for in rec-reation itself, that is, what we expect from and put into a period of recre-ation. In the older familial style, recreation was in part a kind of work, an effort to get to know the individuals of the community and to construct these common intentions that make a group into a true communitas. Russell Baker in his delightful autobiography, Growing Up, reminisced about his childhood evenings when the whole family would sit around the kitchen table for three hours or more, each working at some game, hobby or menial task and conversing about different aspects of their day and inter-ests. Such a scenario would be practically impossible for someone raised in today's media world; it would be the ultimate "bore." Although it is so much easier to watch television, maybe recreation for both families and religious communities needs to recapture some aspects of work and effort. Perhaps it's a modern area of life that demands a practi~:al asceticism. Maybe we should go back to ~the basics and see recreation not just as a time of personal leisure but also as a special moment for build-ing the common intentions with real people that will bond us to a particu-lar group. In the last several decades electronic media have frequently become an intrinsic part of the way some religious communities care for their elderly. Mothers with small children often refer to the television set as the "essential babysitter." The TV also gets used as companion an~ diversion for the infirm and bedridden. Has anyone ever wondered what 200 Review for~Religious, March-April, 1987 kind of psychological impact or shift in fantasy those old priests and sis-ters experience through their continual exposure (subjection) to game shows, soap operas and nighttime police stories? It's a thought worth pondering. In some cases those various media have even generated a new com-munity "official," like the custodian of the TV set or the curator of video movies. Their responsibilities are varied: get the TV guide from the Sunday paper before it disappears, tape the evening news for later rerun, moderate disputes about which programs will be watched, and so on. One final way that the media impinge on religious community life today may be in their subtle escalation of psychological depression. More than a few observers have suggested that depression is merging on becom-ing a national epidemic, the prototypical American social disease that eve-ryone seems to suffer from at one time or another. Depression results from a mixture of physical, psychological and social causes: weariness and exhaustion combine with discouragement that we have not met our expected goals within a social context that regularly fails to provide sus-taining or creative human relationships. All of these causes can be com-monly present in work-oriented, overly-structured and perfection-motivated religious houses. When someone senses the weariness and dis-couragement that keys the onset of depression, the easiest response is to plop in front of the TV set and watch "anything." It takes no effort at all. Paradoxically the unintended result may intensify those precise psy-chological and social roots of depression, the unreal expectations and the distance from people. Some psychologists have postulated a sharp link-age between TV addiction and habitual depression; the two feed each other in a vicious circle.7 Even though modern media present many difficulties, we could also point to effects which play a positive role: accurate information of world-wide import, entertainment of the highest artistic quality, and new, essen-tial ways of proclaiming the Christian message, as well as a very valid recreational dimension. St. Benedict probably would make the same kinds of concessions that he did about drinking wine. Certainly we ought to borrow his insights about moderation, as well as recognize that the media are probably here to stay in our contemporary houses. In the long run the challenge will be to discover a sense of com-munity living that binds together the older familial style of community with the newer style of spontaneous and heightened psychological interchange. Both possess strong values: the former, a powerful-sense of ptiysical togetherness in work and prayer, a set of common goals built up through repeated sharing, and the virtue of perseverance; the latter, an Modern Media and Community / 201 emphasis on the value of emotional support and a true recreational element in community. The merging of these two styles will affect all types of societal living today: the family, the social organization, the local parish, as well as the monastery. Unfortunately we have usually tended to oppose the different views in an either/or perspective. Without doubt the quality of community living has changed drastically in religious houses since those first telephones, radios and tele-vision sets were brought in. The wisdom of Benedict suggests that it's doubtful if the monks and sisters of our time can be convinced that these instruments are not good for them. So, at least, let us use them not to addiction, but to moderation. That's an incredible word of practical wisdom that resounds through the centuries! NOTES ' RB 1980: The Rule of Benedict. Edited by Timothy Fry, O.S.B., (Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 1981), p. 241. The quotation is from chapter 40, vv. 6-7. ' Margaret Miles, Image as Insight (Boston: Beacon Press, 1985), pp. 128-132, 148. 3 Canons 573, 602. Code of Canon Law (Washington, DC: Canon Law Society of America, 1983), pp. 219, 227. 4 Evelyn Eaton Whitehead and James Whitehead, Community of Faith: Models and S~t rRaBte 1gi9e8s0 f:o rT Dhee vReulolep ionfg S Ct.h Briesntieadni cCto, mppm. u1n6i5ti-e1s6 (7N.6e Mw aYrsohrakl:l SMecaLbuurhya nP,r Uesns,d 1e9r8s2ta).nd-ing Media: The Extensions of Man (New York: New American Library, 1964), pp. 57-67. See developments of these ideas by John Culkin, S.J., in McLuhan: Hot and Cool, edited by Gerald Emanuel Stem (New York: New American Library, 1967), pp. 49-57. -, 7 Jerry Mander, Four Arguments for the Elimination of Television (New York: Morr6w Quill, 1978). Also Marie Winn, The Plug-In Drug. (New York: Viking, 1977). Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality Sheila Murphy Dr. Murphy is a professor of psychology at Walsh College (2020 Easton St. N.W.; Canton, Ohio 44720) and is also Director of the Rogativa Center, an educational/ research facility, located on the campus, which serves the needs of women and men religious internationally. An earlier article, "Maximizing Human Potential," appeared in the issue of January/February, 1979. A vital concern to vocation directors is the healthy sexuality of the can-, didates they interview. Numerous workshops, articles, and lectures develop interviewing techniques, questions to ask, and areas to cover to facilitate directors' attempts to discover, during initial interviewing, the quality of candidates' sexuality integration. While these are all necessary and important, they represent only half of the story; the other half is the vocation director's own healthy sexuality and sexual integration. All persons are challenged to healthy sexual integration, and vocation directors, especially, must respond to this challenge because of the qual-ity and nature of their ministry. As initial gatekeepers of religious insti-tutions, their perceptions, judgments, and reactions regarding applicants determine whether of not, in many cases, candidates progress beyond expressing initial interest in a congregation or diocese. In this vital role, vocation directors need to be very clear about which interview issues are their own and which belong to the candidates. This is particularly essen-tial in the area of healthy sexuality. Healthy Sexuality--A Definition Healthy sexuality reflects the integration of the total person. Not a "separate" area of human development, sexuality is the total expression 202 Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 203 of an individual's social, intellectual, physical, and emotional develop-ment. In addition, the combination of these is also the individual's spirituality--the person's complete expression of who she or he is in rela-tionship to self, to others, and to God. Everything people do is sexual. Embodied as women or men, people express their femaleness or maleness in all aspects of their beings. As a ¯ female, for example, everything I do is sexual because I do everything as a woman; I do not function as an it, nor can I be a man. This simple yet relatively new concept was not part of the pre-Vatican theology or sociology in which most people were raised. On the contrary, most grew up in a time when sexuality was associated with genital behaviors, the epit-ome of which was heterosexual intercourse, and divorced from all other areas of human functioning. Within that limited perspective, the full gamut of interpersonal interaction, like self-disclosure, affection, and play-ful touching, were either dismissed as trivial or judged to be suspect behaviors employed as a prelude to the "real thing," i.e., genital inter-course. Also in ~this perception, people's social, emotional, and intellec-tual development were believed to be unrelated to their sexual integration. Such beliefs led to personality fragmentation, suggesting to people that they could compartmentalize their beings and their lives as if they were machines rather than vibrant, dynamic individuals. Because people are constantly emerging as persons, so, too, is their sexuality. Understandings of themselves that answered yesterday's questions may no longer be viable for today's. This all implies that a per-sonal understanding of sexuality is nbt a "one shot" insight to be devel-oped in adolescence (another myth perpetrated by the pre-Vatican II the-ology and sociology), but an ongoing struggle for authenticity. Vocation directors, like other religious, have been struggling for years to incorporate these newer understandings of self, sexuality, and spirituality into their religious lives and their ministries. A formidable task, this requires a rethinking and readapting of many teachings and beliefs that were entrenched in childhood and young-adult education. Fur-thermore, not all are in agreement regarding this concept; theologians, priests and religious continue to argue the place of sexuality in human development. As a personal and corporate enterprise, developing healthy sexuality is no easy task! Sexuality as a holistic concept suggests that the overall quality of people's lives is reflected in their interactions. If they are having difficul- .ties with their feelings, then these people will have difficulties with their sexuality. If intellectually confused or agitated, then they will be sexually and spirituhlly impeded. Feeling unaccepted by or alienated from their pri- 204 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 mary support congregation or diocese, these people will suffer other rela-tional and spiritual problems as well. Hazards of Vocation Ministry Vocatipn ministry is uniquely demanding, and recent reports and research on vocation directors indicate the importance of personal and sexual integration. Perhaps one of the most telling findings is th~ fact that the attrition rate from the ministry on the part of vocation directors exceeds sixty percent. They leave the ministry altogether either while still functioning as directors or shortly after terminating their positions. This certainly underscores the intensity and problems indigenous to this ministry. Another finding is the high rate of burnout reported by vocation directors. It is not uncommon for a vocation director to wear a variety of ministerial hats simultaneously. Many hold two or more jobs, each of which is reputed to be part-time but which, in fact, requires full-time involvement and energy. In addition to their vocation .ministry, many administrate diocesan offices (e.g., deaconate programs), function as parish pastors, or hold full-time teaching positions. They do many differ-ent things during the day, yet retire at night feeling exhausted and unfulfilled, both of which lead to apathy, resentment, and indifference-- all classic symptoms of burnout, the result of unmet personal needs. Some vocation directors report increased cynicism and hostility ~oward the people they serve. What they initially entered into with enthu-siasm and optimism has become fraught with boredom and drudgery. Another manifestation of burnout, this frequently translates into intropunitive aggression whereby some vocation directors gain an average of ten to thirty pounds a year; others convert their cynicism into increased alcohol and drug consumption. A frequent complaint of vocation directors is the pain of alienation they experience from the very groups they represent. Erratic s~hedules, travel, and workshop demands can preclude regular contact with their base group for prayers, meals, and recreation. Praying and eating alone can be lonely experiences, so vocation directoi's may seek support else-where. Sometimes they request a transfer to another community or diocese; sometimes they look outside their congregations for their primary support networks. In either case, they become increasingly disenchanted with their communities and .their work, all of which contributes to the high attrition rate reported above. Another source of alienation from base congregation and diocesan groups is the updated education most vocation directors receive. As fre- Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 205 quent participants in workshops, conferences, and regional meetings, voca-tion directors are exposed to the most recent theorizing and research in issues pertinent to religious life. They hear the latest on theological and psychological implications for richer ministerial actualization, and they are eager to implement these insights in their own communities. The base groups, not having been similarly exposed, are often confused over these "newfangled ideas" which seem to come as a shot in the dark. "After all," they reason, "this person is seldom with us. She or he is out and about, breezes in for a day or two, and expects us to change overnight without being an active member in the change process." Mutual recrimina-tions ensue; vocation directors perceive their base groups as closed to new ideas while base group members perceive vocation directors as free-wheeling individuals with their own cars, budgets, and schedules, and who enjoy the luxury of travel and trouble shooting. These conflicts play themselves out as a painful push-pull between the directors' pleas for inno-vation and the group members' refusal to budge. Vocation directors may then conclude that they can no longer, in honesty, represent their com-munities, which they have come to view as narrow-minded and static. Another source of personal frustration and community alienation for vocation directors is the intangibility of results in vocation ministry. Many congregations and seminaries stress the importance of quality candidates, yet when yearly evaluations roll around, actual "body count" seems to loom larger than quality control. Vocation directors have been known to invest enormous amounts of time and energy in candidates who, through such intense interaction, learn that ministry is not their authentic vocation. These individuals do not show up on "body count" charts, and vocation directors again find themselves trying to justify themselves as "really doing their jobs." Candidates who opt out of niinisterial pursuits have truly been ministered to. Yet how to account for such ministry is a dilemma faced by all vocation directors. ,~ Another problem reported by vocation directors is the feeling of "going crazy." Not unique to vocation directors, this symptom is fre-quently accompanied by the fragmentation experienced during normal, predictable, adult-development transitions. A person going through midlife transition while engaging in vocation ministry may feel that life has become too much to bear. Unable to differentiate ministerial issues from developmental issues, vocation directors can come to the premature and often erroneous conclusion that their work is the sole source of all their problems. Further compounding the situation is their perceived alien-ation from community, which leads vocation directors to believe that they cannot honestly voice their concerns to their brothers and sisters. 206 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 Taken together, these hazards can leave vocation directors feeling lonely and alone. Feeling alienafed, angry, and perhaps personally inade-quate, vocation directors are ripe for relational and sexual problems. Warning Signs There are many signs indicating that vocation directors are in rela-iional or sexual jeopardy. The following represent a compilation of several voiced by religious and diocesan vocation directors over the past few years. "Using relationships" can suggest poor sexual integration. This means viewing people as means to an end rather than ends in themselves. This occurs when directors approach others for what they can offer or do for them." Referring to others by title ratherthan by name--"my secre-tary," "my candidate," "my brother priest," "my sisters in community"--all are examples; they imply either ownership and/or dis-tance. The personal element is missing, suggesting that others' functions and/or commodities are more important than their persons. Some directors are plagued by pervasive anger, another signal of distorted sexual integration. They find everyone and everything upsetting, behaving as seething cauldrons of discontent. Their inability to enjoy life, to derive pleasure from people or activities, points directly to a lack of personal integration, which leads to impoverished sexual and spiritual expression. The challenge for these individuals is to identify the sources of their anger and to do what they can to rectify the situation rather than to target others inappropriately. Any increase in indulgence signals danger. Most people probably think of alcohol, drugs, or food in this regard, ,but they would be simplistic to end their list with these. Any compulsive indulgence is a warn-ing: compulsive exercise, compulsive visiting, compulsive TV viewing, and compulsive reading are a few examples. These behaviors represent a struggle to impose external controls which, individuals hope, will com-pensate for internal chaos. It is the internal fragmentation that threatens healthy integration, not the lack of food, exercise, or reading in their lives when people carry these activities to extremes. Another warning sign is preoccupation with others' relationships. These people seem to be perpetually immersed in somebody else's sexual/ relational lives. Most often the targets of their concern are family mem-bers~ and friends outside of the primary community or diocesan base group. Living vicariously through others will never substitute for living authentically through personal relationships, yet these people would prefer relationship-atka-distance to 15ersonal risk. They seem to be inter- Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 207 ested in relationship, yet they live divorced from relationship. Further-more, by attending to those outside of the base community or group, these women and men are avoiding their obligations of presence to and relationship within their primary commitment arena. Curiosity focused almost exclusively on others' sexual behaviors is a clear indication of unresolved personal sexual issues. Vocation directors must be especially vigilant in this by observing and monitoring the kinds of topics and questions that seem to demand their greatest energies. Does the conversation always seem to turn to sex? Are dates reviewed in minute detail? Are sexual histories more detailed than educational or family histories? Affirmative responses to any of these suggest that the vocation directors, more than the candidates, may have sexual problems. It is possible that directors are projecting their own needs and fantasies onto the candidates. A very obvious warning sign is a preoccupation with overtly sexual material. Increased viewing of x-rated films, compulsive reading and/or collecting of pornographic literature, and frequenting of strip bars may reveal unresolved sexual and relational tensions. Here, the problem is not so much one of the preoccupation itself as what it signifies. Marked changes in affectional displays, either noticeable reductions or increases, can be symptomatic of sexual disintegration. Normally affectionate people who become stand-offish, or normally distant people who suddenly need to touch whomever they are talking with,'are sending out pleas for help. In effect, they are demonstrating current discomfort with themselves and are revealing this through their behavior. .In all of these, people have failed to integrate or are struggling to rede-fine their sexual identities. As happens when individuals are agitated, they tend to look to others and the environment first as the possible source of or solution to their difficulties. Until the inner source or solution is dis-covered, these individuals are doomed to look for answers in all the wrong places, frus~trating themselves and others in the process. Healthy sexuality is a personal responsibility and privilege. Developing Healthy Sexuality The fii'st step toward h.ealthy sexual integration is education. People need to learn the basics of biology and human sexual response so they can make informed decisions about their personal sexuality. People in our society too often grew up in a culture where sexual myths outweighed facts, generating fear and inco .mplete information. Many women and men continue to function out of adolescent fears and fantasies developed when they learned half the sexual stor3) from friends who had, at best, about 201~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 one-tenth of the total plot. The sad tragedy is that many women and men religious do not know how to read their own body responses when in intense or angering or sexual situations. Simple, straightforward informa-tion is an available corrective. A sad reality is that men, more than women, are reluiztant to seek solid sexual education. Current research sug-gests that this is because men in our culture have been raised to believe that they must be sexually knowledgeable, and to seek information wo(ild be to violate their masculine image. Credible vocation directors, like all religious and priests, cannot afford to perpetuate that stereotype. Personal sexual evaluation is the next step toward healthy sexual integration. Armed with valid biological and sexual data, women and men must then assess their personal sexual identities. They must ask them-selves, "How comfortable am I with my own sexuality? What does it mean to be a woman? What does it mean to be a man? Do I know when I am sexually aroused, and what can I do about it within the bounds of my public celibate stance? What is my definition of relationship, and where does affection and/or sexual expression apply?" The answers to these and related questions must come from within. Opinions and text-books can guide reflection, but personal response is essential. Along with personal sexual evaluation is the challenge to develop s6me understanding of personal sexual orientations, whether they be ambisexual, homosexual/lesbian, or heterosexual. Since sexuality is con-stantly in process, so also will be individuals' assessment of their identities, but this does not preclude the need to think about and accept where they find themselves at this time in their process. Developing and evaluating personal philosophies of celibacy, sexuality, and intimacy are prerequisites to healthy sexual integration. People must hold themselves accountable to some code of sexual moral-ity. Too many people employ too much energy reacting to and refuting others' definitions of sexual

Sri Lanka's population is still largely rural, nearly 85 percent lives outside of cities. There will probably be rural-to-urban migration in the future, which represents a potential opportunity to m-money providers. People working in cities often wish to repatriate their savings to their rural families conveniently and at a low cost. Income is fairly evenly spread across Sri Lanka s provinces, with the exception of the Western Province where Colombo, the largest city, is situated. Its GDP per capita places Sri Lanka near the average of comparable Southeast Asian countries. Malaysia is clearly an outlier with a considerably higher GDP per capita, but Sri Lanka s GDP is higher than that of the Philippines, where m-money has taken off dramatically. Poverty is less of a problem in Sri Lanka relative to countries like Bangladesh or Cambodia, where GDP per capita is much lower. The key point is that Sri Lanka is at a different stage in its economic development and is unlikely to have the same socioeconomic conditions that made m-money in Kenya accelerate so rapidly.

I've been reading a lot of macro lately. In part, I'm just catching up from a few years of book writing. In part,  I want to understand inflation dynamics, the quest set forth in "expectations and the neutrality of interest rates," and an  obvious next step in the fiscal theory program. Perhaps blog readers might find interesting some summaries of recent papers, when there is a great idea that can be summarized without a huge amount of math. So, I start a series on cool papers I'm reading. Today: "Tail risk in production networks" by Ian Dew-Becker, a beautiful paper. A "production network" approach recognizes that each firm buys from others, and models this interconnection. It's a hot topic for lots of reasons, below.  I'm interested because prices cascading through production networks might induce a better model of inflation dynamics. (This post uses Mathjax equations. If you're seeing garbage like [\alpha = \beta] then come back to the source  here.) To Ian's paper: Each firm uses other firms' outputs as inputs. Now, hit the economy with a vector of productivity shocks. Some firms get more productive, some get less productive. The more productive ones will expand and lower prices, but that changes everyone's input prices too. Where does it all settle down? This is the fun question of network economics. Ian's central idea: The problem simplifies a lot for large shocks. Usually when problems are complicated we look at first or second order approximations, i.e. for small shocks, obtaining linear or quadratic ("simple") approximations. On the x axis, take a vector of productivity shocks for each firm, and scale it up or down. The x axis represents this overall scale. The y axis is GDP. The right hand graph is Ian's point: for large shocks, log GDP becomes linear in log productivity -- really simple. Why? Because for large enough shocks, all the networky stuff disappears. Each firm's output moves up or down depending only on one critical input. To see this, we have to dig deeper to complements vs. substitutes. Suppose the price of an input goes up 10%. The firm tries to use less of this input. If the best it can do is to cut use 5%, then the firm ends up paying 5% more overall for this input, the "expenditure share" of this input rises. That is the case of "complements." But if the firm can cut use of the input 15%, then it pays 5% less overall for the input, even though the price went up. That is the case of "substitutes." This is the key concept for the whole question: when an input's price goes up, does its share of overall expenditure go up (complements) or down (substitutes)? Suppose inputs are complements. Again, this vector of technology shocks hits the economy. As the size of the shock gets bigger, the expenditure of each firm, and thus the price it charges for its output, becomes more and more dominated by the one input whose price grows the most. In that sense, all the networkiness simplifies enormously. Each firm is only "connected" to one other firm. Turn the shock around. Each firm that was getting a productivity boost now gets a productivity reduction. Each price that was going up now goes down. Again, in the large shock limit, our firm's price becomes dominated by the price of its most expensive input. But it's a different input.  So, naturally, the economy's response to this technology shock is linear, but with a different slope in one direction vs. the other. Suppose instead that inputs are substitutes. Now, as prices change, the firm expands more and more its use of the cheapest input, and its costs and price become dominated by that input instead. Again, the network collapsed to one link.  Ian: "negative productivity shocks propagate downstream through parts of the production process that are complementary (\(\sigma_i < 1\)), while positive productivity shocks propagate through parts that are substitutable (\(\sigma_i > 1\)). ...every sector's behavior ends up driven by a single one of its inputs....there is a tail network, which depends on \(\theta\) and in which each sector has just a single upstream link."Equations: Each firm's production function is (somewhat simplifying Ian's (1)) \[Y_i = Z_i L_i^{1-\alpha} \left( \sum_j A_{ij}^{1/\sigma} X_{ij}^{(\sigma-1)/\sigma} \right)^{\alpha \sigma/(\sigma-1)}.\]Here \(Y_i\) is output, \(Z_i\) is productivity, \(L_i\) is labor input, \(X_{ij}\) is how much good j firm i  uses as an input, and \(A_{ij}\) captures how important each input is in production. \(\sigma>1\) are substitutes, \(\sigma<1\) are complements. Firms are competitive, so price equals marginal cost, and each firm's price is \[ p_i = -z_i + \frac{\alpha}{1-\sigma}\log\left(\sum_j A_{ij}e^{(1-\sigma)p_j}\right).\; \; \; (1)\]Small letters are logs of big letters.  Each price depends on the prices of all the inputs, plus the firm's own productivity.  Log GDP, plotted in the above figure is \[gdp = -\beta'p\] where \(p\) is the vector of prices and \(\beta\) is a vector of how important each good is to the consumer. In the case \(\sigma=1\) (1)  reduces to a linear formula. We can easily solve for prices and then gdp as a function of the technology shocks: \[p_i = - z_i + \sum_j A_{ij} p_j\] and hence \[p=-(I-\alpha A)^{-1}z,\]where the letters represent vectors and matrices across \(i\) and \(j\). This expression shows some of the point of networks, that the pattern of prices and output reflects the whole network of production, not just individual firm productivity. But with \(\sigma \neq 1\) (1) is nonlinear without a known closed form solution. Hence approximations. You can see Ian's central point directly from (1). Take the \(\sigma<1\) case, complements. Parameterize the size of the technology shocks by a fixed vector \(\theta = [\theta_1, \ \theta_2, \ ...\theta_i,...]\) times a scalar \(t>0\), so that \(z_i=\theta_i \times t\). Then let \(t\) grow keeping the pattern of shocks \(\theta\) the same. Now, as the \(\{p_i\}\) get larger in absolute value, the term with the greatest \(p_i\) has the greatest value of \( e^{(1-\sigma)p_j} \). So, for large technology shocks \(z\), only that largest term matters, the log and e cancel, and \[p_i \approx -z_i + \alpha \max_{j} p_j.\] This is linear, so we can also write prices as a pattern \(\phi\) times the scale \(t\), in the large-t limit \(p_i = \phi_i t\),  and  \[\phi_i =  -\theta_i + \alpha \max_{j} \phi_j.\;\;\; (2)\] With substitutes, \(\sigma<1\), the firm's costs, and so its price, will be driven by the smallest (most negative) upstream price, in the same way. \[\phi_i \approx -\theta_i + \alpha \min_{j} \phi_j.\] To express gdp scaling with \(t\), write \(gdp=\lambda t\), or when you want to emphasize the dependence on the vector of technology shocks, \(\lambda(\theta)\). Then we find gdp by \(\lambda =-\beta'\phi\). In this big price limit, the \(A_{ij}\) contribute a constant term, which also washes out. Thus the actual "network" coefficients stop mattering at all so long as they are not zero -- the max and min are taken over all non-zero inputs. Ian: ...the limits for prices, do not depend on the exact values of any \(\sigma_i\) or \(A_{i,j}.\) All that matters is whether the elasticities are above or below 1 and whether the production weights are greater than zero. In the example in Figure 2, changing the exact values of the production parameters (away from \(\sigma_i = 1\) or \(A_{i,j} = 0\)) changes...the levels of the asymptotes, and it can change the curvature of GDP with respect to productivity, but the slopes of the asymptotes are unaffected....when thinking about the supply-chain risks associated with large shocks, what is important is not how large a given supplier is on average, but rather how many sectors it supplies...For a full solution, look at the (more interesting) case of complements, and suppose every firm uses a little bit of every other firm's output, so all the \(A_{ij}>0\). The largest input  price in (2) is the same for each firm \(i\), and you can quickly see then that the biggest price will be the smallest technology shock. Now we can solve the model for prices and GDP as a function of technology shocks: \[\phi_i \approx -\theta_i - \frac{\alpha}{1-\alpha} \theta_{\min},\] \[\lambda \approx  \beta'\theta + \frac{\alpha}{1-\alpha}\theta_{\min}.\] We have solved the large-shock approximation for prices and GDP as a function of technology shocks. (This is Ian's example 1.) The graph is concave when inputs are complements, and convex when they are substitutes. Let's do complements. We do the graph to the left of the kink by changing the sign of \(\theta\).  If the identity of \(\theta_{\min}\) did not change, \(\lambda(-\theta)=-\lambda(\theta)\) and the graph would be linear; it would go down on the left of the kink by the same amount it goes up on the right of the kink. But now a different \(j\) has the largest price and the worst technology shock. Since this must be a worse technology shock than the one driving the previous case, GDP is lower and the graph is concave.  \[-\lambda(-\theta) = \beta'\theta + \frac{\alpha}{1-\alpha}\theta_{\max} \ge\beta'\theta + \frac{\alpha}{1-\alpha}\theta_{\min} = \lambda(\theta).\] Therefore  \(\lambda(-\theta)\le-\lambda(\theta),\) the left side falls by more than the right side rises. Does all of this matter? Well, surely more for questions when there might be a big shock, such as the big shocks we saw in a pandemic, or big shocks we might see in a war. One of the big questions that network theory asks is, how much does GDP change if there is a technology shock in a particular industry? The \(\sigma=1\) case in which expenditure shares are constant gives a standard and fairly reassuring result: the effect on GDP of a shock in industry i is given by the ratio of i's output to total GDP. ("Hulten's theorem.") Industries that are small relative to GDP don't affect GDP that much if they get into trouble. You can intuit that constant expenditure shares are important for this result. If an industry has a negative technology shock, raises its prices, and others can't reduce use of its inputs, then its share of expenditure will rise, and it will all of a sudden be important to GDP. Continuing our example, if one firm has a negative technology shock, then it is the minimum technology, and [(d gdp/dz_i = \beta_i + \frac{\alpha}{1-\alpha}.\] For small firms (industries) the latter term is likely to be the most important.  All the A and \(\sigma\) have disappeared, and basically the whole economy is driven by this one unlucky industry and labor.   Ian: ...what determines tail risk is not whether there is granularity on average, but whether there can ever be granularity – whether a single sector can become pivotal if shocks are large enough.For example, take electricity and restaurants. In normal times, those sectors are of similar size, which in a linear approximation would imply that they have similar effects on GDP. But one lesson of Covid was that shutting down restaurants is not catastrophic for GDP, [Consumer spending on food services and accommodations fell by 40 percent, or $403 billion between 2019Q4 and 2020Q2. Spending at movie theaters fell by 99 percent.] whereas one might expect that a significant reduction in available electricity would have strongly negative effects – and that those effects would be convex in the size of the decline in available power. Electricity is systemically important not because it is important in good times, but because it would be important in bad times. Ben Moll turned out to be right and Germany was able to substitute away from Russian Gas a lot more than people had thought, but even that proves the rule: if it is hard to substitute away from even a small input, then large shocks to that input imply larger expenditure shares and larger impacts on the economy than its small output in normal times would suggest.There is an enormous amount more in the paper and voluminous appendices, but this is enough for a blog review. ****Now, a few limitations, or really thoughts on where we go next. (No more in this paper, please, Ian!) Ian does a nice illustrative computation of the sensitivity to large shocks:Ian assumes \(\sigma>1\), so the main ingredients are how many downstream firms use your products and a bit their labor shares. No surprise, trucks, and energy have big tail impacts. But so do lawyers and insurance. Can we really not do without lawyers? Here I hope the next step looks hard at substitutes vs. complements.That raises a bunch of issues. Substitutes vs. complements surely depends on time horizon and size of shocks. It might be easy to use a little less water or electricity initially, but then really hard to reduce more than, say, 80%. It's usually easier to substitute in the long run than the short run. The analysis in this literature is "static," meaning it describes the economy when everything has settled down.  The responses -- you charge more, I use less, I charge more, you use less of my output, etc. -- all happen instantly, or equivalently the model studies a long run where this has all settled down. But then we talk about responses to shocks, as in the pandemic.  Surely there is a dynamic response here, not just including capital accumulation (which Ian studies). Indeed, my hope was to see prices spreading out through a production network over time, but this structure would have all price adjustments instantly. Mixing production networks with sticky prices is an obvious idea, which some of the papers below are working on. In the theory and data handling, you see a big discontinuity. If a firm uses any inputs at all from another firm,  if \(A_{ij}>0\), that input can take over and drive everything. If it uses no inputs at all, then there is no network link and the upstream firm can't have any effect. There is a big discontinuity at \(A_{ij}=0.\) We would prefer a theory that does not jump from zero to everything when the firm buys one stick of chewing gum. Ian had to drop small but nonzero elements of the input-output matrix to produces sensible results. Perhaps we should regard very small inputs as always substitutes? How important is the network stuff anyway? We tend to use industry categorizations, because we have an industry input-output table. But how much of the US industry input-output is simply vertical: Loggers sell trees to mills who sell wood to lumberyards who sell lumber to Home Depot who sells it to contractors who put up your house? Energy and tools feed each stage, but don't use a whole lot of wood to make those. I haven't looked at an input-output matrix recently, but just how "vertical" is it? ****The literature on networks in macro is vast. One approach is to pick a recent paper like Ian's and work back through the references. I started to summarize, but gave up in the deluge. Have fun. One way to think of a branch of economics is not just "what tools does it use?" but "what questions is it asking?  Long and Plosser "Real Business Cycles," a classic, went after idea that the central defining feature of business cycles (since Burns and Mitchell) is comovement. States and industries all go up and down together to a remarkable degree. That pointed to "aggregate demand" as a key driving force. One would think that "technology shocks" whatever they are would be local or industry specific. Long and Plosser showed that an input output structure led idiosyncratic shocks to produce business cycle common movement in output. Brilliant. Macro went in another way, emphasizing time series -- the idea that recessions are defined, say, by two quarters of aggregate GDP decline, or by the greater decline of investment and durable goods than consumption -- and in the aggregate models of Kydland and Prescott, and the stochastic growth model as pioneered by King, Plosser and Rebelo, driven by a single economy-wide technology shock.  Part of this shift is simply technical: Long and Plosser used analytical tools, and were thereby stuck in a model without capital, plus they did not inaugurate matching to data. Kydland and Prescott brought numerical model solution and calibration to macro, which is what macro has done ever since.  Maybe it's time to add capital, solve numerically, and calibrate Long and Plosser (with up to date frictions and consumer heterogeneity too, maybe). Xavier Gabaix (2011)  had a different Big Question in mind: Why are business cycles so large? Individual firms and industries have large shocks, but \(\sigma/\sqrt{N}\) ought to dampen those at the aggregate level. Again, this was a classic argument for aggregate "demand" as opposed to "supply."  Gabaix notices that the US has a fat-tailed firm distribution with a few large firms, and those firms have large shocks. He amplifies his argument via the Hulten mechanism, a bit of networkyiness, since the impact of a firm on the economy is sales / GDP,  not value added / GDP. The enormous literature since then  has gone after a variety of questions. Dew-Becker's paper is about the effect of big shocks, and obviously not that useful for small shocks. Remember which question you're after.My quest for a new Phillips curve in production networks is better represented by Elisa Rubbo's "Networks, Phillips curves and Monetary Policy," and Jennifer La'o and  Alireza Tahbaz-Salehi's "Optimal Monetary Policy in Production Networks," If I can boil those down for the blog, you'll hear about it eventually.  The "what's the question" question is doubly important for this branch of macro that explicitly models heterogeneous agents and heterogenous firms. Why are we doing this? One can always represent the aggregates with a social welfare function and an aggregate production function. You might be interested in how aggregates affect individuals, but that doesn't change your model of aggregates. Or, you might be interested in seeing what the aggregate production or utility function looks like -- is it consistent with what we know about individual firms and people? Does the size of the aggregate production function shock make sense? But still, you end up with just a better (hopefully) aggregate production and utility function. Or, you might want models that break the aggregation theorems in a significant way; models for which distributions matter for aggregate dynamics, theoretically and (harder) empirically. But don't forget you need a reason to build disaggregated models. Expression (1) is not easy to get to. I started reading Ian's paper in my usual way:  to learn a literature start with the latest paper and work backward. Alas, this literature has evolved to the point that authors plop results down that "everybody knows" and will take you a day or so of head-scratching to reproduce. I complained to Ian, and he said he had the same problem when he was getting in to the literature! Yes, journals now demand such overstuffed papers that it's hard to do, but it would be awfully nice for everyone to start including ground up algebra for major results in one of the endless internet appendices.  I eventually found Jonathan Dingel's notes on Dixit Stiglitz tricks, which were helpful. Update:Chase Abram's University of Chicago Math Camp notes here  are also a fantastic resource. See Appendix B starting p. 94 for  production network math. The rest of the notes are also really good. The first part goes a little deeper into more abstract material than is really necessary for the second part and applied work, but it is a wonderful and concise review of that material as well.  

Este trabajo analiza la manera cómo España construyó, a finales del siglo XIX, una imagen de nación moderna fundamentada en la conciencia de un pasado glorioso, el del descubrimiento de América o del Nuevo Mundo. La atención se enfoca en el análisis de la participación del país ibérico en las Exposiciones Históricas (EH) que tuvieron lugar en Madrid, en 1892, precisamente en el marco de la celebración del IV centenario de dicho suceso. Evento de gran trascendencia para la coyuntura política española de fin de siglo, caracterizada por la profunda crisis que había dejado la pérdida de supremacía sobre la mayor parte de sus antiguas colonias en el continente americano. No es gratuito, pues, que en este contexto se asista a una especie de competencia, entre tres naciones, por conseguir el predominio de la conmemoración. Italia, por ser la cuna de Cristóbal Colón; España, por haber apoyado de forma decida el proyecto colombino; y, Estados Unidos, por considerarse heredera directa de la civilización occidental. En las tres, los eventos expositivos constituirán el eje central de la celebración. Para el caso de España, tras una primera iniciativa, en 1888, de celebrar una exposición de carácter universal -como la inaugurada ese mismo año en Barcelona-, en 1891 se decanta por la realización de dos, de carácter histórico e internacional, "detenidas en el siglo XVI". A diferencia de las ferias mundiales, donde primó el sello arquitectónico que le otorgó cada nación, en las EH a cada nación le será asignada una o varias salas dentro del Palacio de Biblioteca y Museos Nacionales, inaugurado para la ocasión. El piso principal albergará a la Histórico-Europea (HE), proyectada con el propósito de mostrar los testimonios históricos y de las artes provenientes de aquella época y conservados por los países europeos. La planta baja, acogerá a la Histórico- Americana (HA), que busca dar cuenta del estado de desarrollo alcanzado por los pueblos americanos al momento de la llegada de los españoles. De esta manera, las EH se convierten en las más importantes de su género, no sólo en ámbito español de la segunda mitad del siglo XIX sino de todo el orbe. La primera, por reunir objetos de carácter histórico y artístico de varias naciones europeas, pero especialmente de la anfitriona; la segunda, por exponer por primera vez, y a la vista de Europa y el mundo, el panorama de las culturas prehispánicas conocidas hasta ese entonces, algo que no habían logrado ni siquiera los Congresos Internacionales de Americanistas. En ellas, pues, se hace imposible separar lo histórico, cultural, artístico o científico, de sus implicaciones políticas. No es de extrañar, pues, que España hiciera un despliegue de la gran riqueza de su patrimonio histórico-artístico y de material americano, acumulando durante siglos por la casa real y la nobleza; los museos, archivos y bibliotecas; la iglesia; y, los coleccionistas privados, en su mayoría pertenecientes a la aristocracia y a la naciente burguesía. Es, precisamente, la participación de España en estas EH la que interesa en esta investigación, pues tuvo presencia en las dos. En la HE ocupará la mayor parte de los salones que la conformaban, a través de una gran una gran variedad material bibliográfico y documental, pinturas de reconocidos artistas, piezas de arte decorativo, mobiliario litúrgico, tapices y, sobre todo, objetos de valor histórico que hacían alusión a hechos o personajes destacados del devenir nacional, entre los siglos XV y XVII. Por su parte, en la HA, participa con documentación y material arqueológico fruto de su presencia, por más de tres siglos, en territorio americano. De tal manera que, el estudio de dicha participación constituye un prisma privilegiado de observación de sus implicaciones políticas y culturales. El trabajo se divide en cinco partes, cada una de ellas dividida en dos capítulos. La primera aborda, por una parte, los postulados que rigieron las políticas del recuerdo asumidas por Italia, Estados Unidos y España, los tres países que, a uno y otro lado del Atlántico, asumieron la delantera en la celebración del IV centenario del descubrimiento de América (IV centenario); por otra, analiza los sentidos divergentes que adoptaron las exposiciones que, como eventos centrales de la conmemoración, se proyectaron en cada una de dichas naciones, haciendo énfasis en el proceso de delimitación de la naturaleza de las circunscritas para el caso español. En la segunda, emprende el acercamiento al contexto específico del país ibérico, explorando cómo una retórica visual concreta, la relacionada con la iconografía colombina, coloca la figura de Colón y el suceso del descubrimiento al servicio de la imagen de España como nación imperial, en la que confluirán una serie de prácticas del recuerdo circunscritas no solo a la pintura de historia sino al espacio público y a la industria editorial. La tercera, pone el foco de atención en el complejo exhibicionario que tuvo lugar en Madrid en 1892 que muestran, de alguna manera, una jerarquización de imaginarios nacionales en torno a la historia, las artes, la arqueología y la industria. En primera instancia, aborda los proyectos expositivos distintos a las EH, tales como la Exposición Internacional de Bellas Artes, la Escolar y el Certamen de labores, así como pequeñas iniciativas de diversa índole; para luego centrarse en las EH, especialmente en los difusos límites que acompañó el proceso de delimitación de su denominación y naturaleza, y cómo esta situación se exteriorizó en el discurso museográfico que ellas desplegaron. Las dos últimas partes asumen un estudio pormenorizado de la participación de España en las EH. La cuarta, analiza su presencia en la EHA, mostrando cómo dicha participación se inscribe en el contexto geopolítico colonial finisecular abordando, en primer lugar y de manera general, la presencia en dicha exposición de otras naciones que disputan este contexto imperial, en sus múltiples aristas, como Portugal, Dinamarca, Noruega, Francia y los Estados Unidos. En segundo lugar, se examinan las instalaciones de España, que exhibirán material de minería y objetos etnográficos procedentes, especialmente, de las que aún eran sus colonias; así como antigüedades precolombinas conservadas en sus museos. La quinta, explora las implicaciones políticas e históricas que subyacen bajo el propósito de configurar una unidad nacional que subraya la continuidad histórica entre los reyes católicos y la España finisecular en crisis, en la que confluyen: monarquía, instituciones estatales, iglesia y coleccionistas particulares. Así, en primera instancia se estudia el despertar de una conciencia imperial basada en la posesión de un patrimonio histórico y artístico por parte de la casa real; museos, bibliotecas y archivos estales; y, la iglesia católica. Por último, se explora el papel que desempeñaron las colecciones particulares, especialmente de aristócratas, en la ratificación de una línea de tiempo entre los reyes católicos y los soberanos del siglo XIX. En un intento de España por recuperar la credibilidad de un gobierno finisecular en crisis, tanto a nivel interno como hacia el exterior, su participación en las EH fue concebida, dado su alcance ibérico, americano y europeo, como una estrategia política para afirmar y consolidar su lugar como una nación con conciencia imperial; una táctica de visibilización para combatir tres frentes geopolíticos diferenciados. Por una parte, el europeo, en el que predominaba la historiografía de la decadencia expresada en la Leyenda Negra; por otra, el norteamericano, que se proyecta como una nueva potencia que puede desplazar su protagonismo en Hispanoamérica; y, por último, las recién independizadas naciones americanas que, al estar definiendo sus referentes identitarios, y ante las cuales convenia estrechar los lazos que la unían a ellas. De tal manera que, la actualización de una conciencia imperial adquiere, en la coyuntura centenarista, una dimensión enfocada en nuevas formas de colonización, desde el ámbito cultural e histórico, liderado por el movimiento hispanista, en el que historia, raza y religión compartidas, a uno y otro lado del Atlántico, se resignifican como los estandartes de una nación con conciencia imperial. La investigación permitió inferir que, en términos de patrimonialización de un pasado glorioso, se llevó a cabo una diferenciación entre el material de origen europeo, convertido ahora en argumento del grado de civilización alcanzado por España durante la Edad Moderna, expuesto en la EHE; y, el material americano, que adquiere la connotación de prueba y trofeo, exhibido en la EHA. En este contexto, el espectacular despliegue de España en las EH, a través de colecciones históricas, artísticas y de arqueología americana, contribuyó al proceso de patrimonialización de un pasado imperial que, después de cuatro siglos y a través de sus vestigios, ratificaba el aporte del país ibérico a la expansión de la civilización occidental. Logrando unir, como nunca antes, a diferentes estamentos oficiales y particulares, bajo un solo objetivo, el de traer a la memoria los cimientos que sustentaron el "descubrimiento y la conquista" del continente americano. Para el gobierno, la monarquía y la nobleza constituyó un momento propicio para reevaluar su prestigio, a través de una resignificación de sus bienes patrimoniales, que implicaría un giro en su sentido de apropiación, pues se extendería del ámbito particular al nacional. Estableciendo, de esta manera, una línea de tiempo entre la época de los Reyes Católicos, suscrita a la conquista y descubrimientos en ultramar, que elevó a la corona española a la categoría de imperio, y la de la nueva era de los imperialismos de finales del siglo XIX, en la que España necesita competir para expandir su imaginario colonizador, ahora, desde lo cultural. En este propósito, los vestigios de las glorias del pasado se actualizan con el propósito proyectar un imaginario imperialista-paternalista sobre el otro americano, el de una nación con expectativa civilizadora, bajo la que subyace la noción de una raza trasatlántica, cuyos cimientos serán una historia, una lengua y una religión compartidas. ; This work analyzes the way in which Spain built, in the late nineteenth century, an image of a modern nation based on the awareness of a glorious past, that of the discovery of America or the New World. The focus is on the analysis of the participation of the Iberian country in the Historical Exhibitions (EH) that took place in Madrid, in 1892, precisely within the framework of the celebration of the IV centenary of that event. Event of great importance for the Spanish political situation at the end of the century, characterized by the deep crisis that had left the loss of supremacy over most of its former colonies in the American continent. It is not gratuitous, therefore, that in this context we should witness a kind of competition, between three nations, for the predominance of commemoration. Italy, for being the birthplace of Christopher Columbus; Spain, for having decisively supported the Columbian project; and, the United States, for considering it the direct heir to Western civilization. In all three, the exhibition events will be the central axis of the celebration. Event of great importance for the Spanish political situation at the end of the century, characterized by the deep crisis that had left the loss of supremacy over most of its former colonies in the American continent. It is not gratuitous, therefore, that in this context we should witness a kind of competition, between three nations, for the predominance of commemoration. Italy, for being the birthplace of Christopher Columbus; Spain, for having decisively supported the Columbian project; and, the United States, for considering it the direct heir to Western civilization. In all three, the exhibition events will be the central axis of the celebration. In the case of Spain, after a first initiative, in 1888, to hold an exhibition of a universal nature -such as the one inaugurated that same year in Barcelona-, in 1891 it opted for the realization of two, of historical and international character, "arrested in the sixteenth century". Unlike the world fairs, where the architectural seal awarded by each nation prevailed, in the EH each nation will be assigned one or more rooms within the Palace of Library and National Museums, inaugurated for the occasion. The main floor will house the Historical-European (HE), designed with the purpose of showing the historical testimonies and the arts from that time and preserved by European countries. The ground floor will house the Historic-American (HA), which seeks to account for the state of development reached by the American peoples at the time of the arrival of the Spaniards. In this way, the EH become the most important of its kind, not only in the Spanish field of the second half of the nineteenth century but of the whole world. The first, for bringing together objects of historical and artistic character from several European nations, but especially from the hostess; the second, for exposing for the first time, and in view of Europe and the world, the panorama of the pre-Hispanic cultures known until then, something that had not been achieved even by the International Congresses of Americanists. In them, therefore, it becomes impossible to separate the historical, cultural, artistic or scientific from their political implications. It is not surprising, then, that Spain made a display of the great wealth of its historicalartistic heritage and American material, accumulating for centuries by the royal house and the nobility; museums, archives and libraries; the church; and, private collectors, mostly belonging to the aristocracy and the nascent bourgeoisie. It is precisely the participation of Spain in these HE that is of interest in this research, since it was present in both. In the HE will occupy most of the rooms that made it up, through a great variety of bibliographic and documentary material, paintings by renowned artists, pieces of decorative art, liturgical furniture, tapestries and, above all, objects of historical value that alluded to facts or outstanding characters of the national future, between the fifteenth and seventeenth centuries. For its part, in the HA, it participates with documentation and archaeological material fruit of its presence, for more than three centuries, in American territory. Thus, the study of such participation constitutes a privileged prism of observation of its political and cultural implications. The work is divided into five parts, each divided into two chapters. The first deals, on the one hand, with the postulates that governed the policies of remembrance assumed by Italy, the United States and Spain, the three countries that, on both sides of the Atlantic, assumed the lead in the celebration of the IV centenary of the discovery of America (IV centenary); on the other, it analyzes the divergent senses adopted by the exhibitions that, as central events of the commemoration, were projected in each of these nations, emphasizing the process of delimitation of the nature of the circumscribed for the Spanish case. In the second, he undertakes the approach to the specific context of the Iberian country, exploring how a concrete visual rhetoric, related to Columbian iconography, places the figure of Columbus and the success of the discovery at the service of the image of Spain as an imperial nation, in which a series of practices of remembrance confined not only to history painting but to the public space and the publishing industry will converge. In the second, he undertakes the approach to the specific context of the Iberian country, exploring how a concrete visual rhetoric, related to Columbian iconography, places the figure of Columbus and the success of the discovery at the service of the image of Spain as an imperial nation, in which a series of practices of remembrance confined not only to history painting but to the public space and the publishing industry will converge. The third, puts the focus of attention on the exhibition complex that took place in Madrid in 1892 that show, in some way, a hierarchy of national imaginaries around history, the arts, archaeology and industry. In the first instance, it addresses the exhibition projects other than the HE, such as the International Exhibition of Fine Arts, the School and the Work Contest, as well as small initiatives of various kinds; to then focus on the HD, especially on the diffuse boundaries that accompanied the process of delimitation of their denomination and nature, and how this situation was externalized in the museographic discourse that they deployed. The last two parts assume a detailed study of Spain's participation in EH. The fourth, analyzes its presence in the EHA, showing how this participation is part of the finisecular colonial geopolitical context addressing, first and foremost, the presence in this exhibition of other nations that dispute this imperial context, in its multiple edges, such as Portugal, Denmark, Norway, France and the United States. Secondly, it examines the facilities of Spain, which will exhibit mining material and ethnographic objects from, especially, those that were still its colonies; as well as pre-Columbian antiquities preserved in its museums. The fifth, explores the political and historical implications that underlie the purpose of shaping a national unity that underlines the historical continuity between the Catholic kings and the finisecular Spain in crisis, in which they converge: monarchy, state institutions, church and private collectors. Thus, in the first instance the awakening of an imperial consciousness based on the possession of a historical and artistic heritage by the royal house is studied; museums, libraries and state archives; and, the Catholic church. Finally, it explores the role played by private collections, especially of aristocrats, in ratifying a timeline between Catholic kings and nineteenth-century sovereigns. In an attempt by Spain to recover the credibility of a finisecular government in crisis, both internally and externally, its participation in the EH was conceived, given its Iberian, American and European scope, as a political strategy to affirm and consolidate its place as a nation with imperial conscience; a tactic of visibility to combat three distinct geopolitical fronts. On the one hand, the European, in which the historiography of decadence expressed in the Black Legend predominated; on the other, the North American, which projects itself as a new power that can displace its prominence in Latin America; and, finally, the newly independent American nations that, being defining their identity referents, and before which it was appropriate to strengthen the ties that united them. In such a way that, the updating of an imperial consciousness acquires, in the centenarist conjuncture, a dimension focused on new forms of colonization, from the cultural and historical field, led by the Hispanist movement, in which shared history, race and religion, on both sides of the Atlantic, are resignified as the banners of a nation with imperial consciousness. The research allowed to infer that, in terms of patrimonialization of a glorious past, a differentiation was carried out between the material of European origin, now converted into an argument of the degree of civilization reached by Spain during the Modern Age, exposed in the EHE; and, the American material, which acquires the connotation of test and trophy, exhibited in the EHA. In this context, the spectacular deployment of Spain in the EH, through historical, artistic and American archaeology collections, contributed to the process of patrimonialization of an imperial past that, after four centuries and through its vestiges, ratified the contribution of the Iberian country to the expansion of Western civilization. Managing to unite, as never before, different official and private strata, under a single objective, that of bringing to mind the foundations that supported the "discovery and conquest" of the American continent. For the government, the monarchy and the nobility it was a propitious moment to reassess their prestige, through a resignification of their patrimonial assets, which would imply a turn in their sense of appropriation, since it would extend from the particular scope to the national one. Establishing, in this way, a timeline between the time of the Catholic Monarchs, subscribed to the conquest and discoveries overseas, which elevated the Spanish crown to the category of empire, and that of the new era of imperialisms of the late nineteenth century, in which Spain needs to compete to expand its colonizing imaginary, now, from the cultural. In this purpose, the vestiges of the glories of the past are updated with the purpose of projecting an imperialist-paternalistic imaginary on the other American, that of a nation with civilizing expectation, under which underlies the notion of a transatlantic race, whose foundations will be a shared history, language and religion.