Suchergebnisse

Cover Image -- Title Page -- Dedication -- Epigraph -- Acknowledgments -- Table of Contents -- An Introduction to Who's Who -- Chapter One: A Legend Is Born -- EARLY YEARS -- THE CIVIL WAR YEARS -- THE OUTLAW YEARS -- A GRAVE SITUATION -- THE ALIAS -- Chapter Two: Family Stories -- ANYTHING BUT ORDINARY -- CIVIL WAR RECORDS -- FURTHER EVIDENCE FROM THE DIARY -- MISCELLANEOUS DETAILS -- Chapter Three: Pictures Speak Volumes -- PHOTO ANALYSIS OF JESSE'S MOTHER -- PHOTO ANALYSIS OF JESSE JAMES -- VISIONICS STATEMENT -- CONTRADICTORY APPEARANCE -- Chapter Four: The Smoking Gun -- LINE OF SUCCESSION -- PHOTO EVIDENCE -- Chapter Five: The Tall Stranger -- PICTURES DON'T LIE -- IF NOT JESSE, WHO? -- Chapter Six: The Many Deaths of Jesse James -- ACCOMPLICES -- IF NOT WOOD HITE, WHO? -- Chapter Seven: Tawdry Sideshow -- HISTORY OF EXHUMATIONS -- LINE OF DESCENT -- LAWS REGARDING EXHUMATION -- QUESTIONABLE RESULTS FROM A QUESTIONABLE SOURCE -- BULLET HOLES AND BATTLE SCARS -- THE GRAVESITES -- A FRAUDULENT SAMPLE -- TOXICOLOGY -- CONCLUSIONS -- Appendix: In His Own Words -- 1871 -- 1872 -- 1874 -- 1876 -- Footnotes -- Endnotes -- About the Authors -- About Inner Traditions Bear & -- Company -- Books of Related Interest -- Copyright & -- Permissions -- Index.

Forgeries are an omnipresent part of our culture and closely related to traditional ideas of authenticity, legality, authorship, creativity, and innovation. Based on the concept of mimesis, this volume illustrates how forgeries must be understood as autonomous aesthetic practices – creative acts in themselves – rather than as mere rip-offs of an original work of art. The proceedings bring together research from different scholarly fields. They focus on various mimetic practices such as pseudo-translations, imposters, identity theft, and hoaxes in different artistic and historic contexts. By opening up the scope of the aesthetic implications of fakes, this anthology aims to consolidate forging as an autonomous method of creation.

Issue 65.3 of the Review for Religious, 2006. ; Bei~ Religiofis ~QUARTERLY 65~3 2006 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with Godi .dialogue with ourselves, and dialog4~e with one another about the holiness we tryto live according to gts~ari~s o.f Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul VI said, our way Of being dsurcb is today tlse~, way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindel] Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 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 ¯ Pontifical College Josephinmn 7625 North High Street ° Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Rdigious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, NIN 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 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. ~gournalof Catholic ~piri~uality view for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Webmaster 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 R$CJ Louis ~nd Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 65.3 2006 contents prisms 228 Prisms 230 coming together The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress: A Restrospective Karen M. Kennelly CSJ summarizes the thinking and the participants' interaction at the 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress held in Rome and proposes that some themes should impact local chapters and congregational meetings. ¯ Reflection and Discussion Questions 244 A New Way of Meeting . Rachael M. Harrington SNDdeN describes one carefully planned attempt to capture new life and meaning that might be incorporated into the usual chapter or congregational meeting. 226 255 meeting God Aspiratory Prayer, a Welcome Addition to Contemplative Prayer Ernest E. Larkin OCarm describes the prayer of aspiration, reviews its hisory in spirituality, identifies a few of its main proponents, and suggests ways that we might make it part of our lives. Reflection Questions Review for Religious 272 "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises Philip Shano SJ reflects upon the purpose and use of repose days within the Ignatian thirty-day retreat and raises questions for retreat directors. 283 Gerard Manley Hopkins's "Lantern out of Doors": A Contemplative Response to Loss Charles P. Farrar praises the spiritual theology of Hopkins's sonnet which describes the experience of personal loss with the metaphor of a lantern passing in the night. What first seems subjective and formulaic proves to be psychologically and theologically insightful. 293 3O4 being religious Today's Candidates: Who Are They, What Do They Expect? Raymond R. Ryan OSA allows younger members within the religious congregation to present a snapshot picture of their hopes and desires for community life and mission. These Strawberries Are Divine! Sisters and a Spirituality of Living on Earth Colleen Carpenter Cullinan provides a glimpse of the contributions of Catholic religious congregations of women in founding farms and Earth centers as places to raise organic food and educate people about the deep human connection to God's creation. Prayer / Reflection and Discussion Questions departments 319 Scripture Scope: Reading the Gospel of John 323 Canonical Counsel: Archives of Religious Communities 328 Book Reviews 65.3 2006 prisms Tintroduce the Gospel story of the Annunciation, St. Ignatius Loyola would have us picture the three divine Persons of the Trinity in dialogue about how better to accom-plish the salvation of humankind. We might describe it as the first communal discernment. The meetings that people hold when things are to be decided--meetings sometimes so contentious that they seem "eternally" long--can be seen as human strivings to imitate the wise personal planning of the Blessed Trinity. As our journal's mission statement declares, Pope Paul VI identified dialogue as a way of being church, especially in our time. Our world, with its instant communication by radio, television, Internet, and cell phone, has often taken away from us our black-and-white, simplistic judgments about who is the enemy, about who is being saved, about what other religions believe, about under-standing sexual orientations and various complex life issues, and about the cultural values of a world society. In the Old Testament's Book of Genesis, Cain's question, "Am I my brother's keeper?" has been answered definitively by our Christian faith. Jesus in giving us his one commandment allows for no wiggle room: we are to love God with all our mind, soul, and strength and our neighbor as our-selves. And loving, as all marriages and deep friendships know, takes a lot of dialoguing. We all are aware that our love of God devel-ops through a dialogue called prayer. Mthough there are many books describing some classic Re~iew for Religious forms of praying, usually drawn from the practice and example of the holy men and women preceding us, we still must make our conversation with God our own. We are not on stage, reciting lines written by some playwright. God and we share from our hearts. That is why prayer, even in its quiet moments, is always a dialogue. As in every deep human relationship, the dialogue of sharing never has an end. In fact, this signifies the promise of eternal life with God. For many of us today, meetings seem a way of life. We see it in world diplomacy, we know it in business, we par-ticipate in it in our parishes, in our religious communities, and in our neighborhood associations. Most of us desire fewer meetings, more efficiently run meetings, meetings with clearer outcomes, and meetings which bring about something better for everyone involved. For we are aware of many frustrations in communal dialogue. We have exam-ples on the international scale, on the church level, and in religious-life interworkings where dialogue breaks down or perhaps is never entered into. Just as personal dialogue with God (prayer) portends our relational life with God forever, so group dialogue in meetings, conferences, and religious chapters needs to be valued as our way of enter-ing more closely into the dialogical life of God. "Dialogue is our way of being church." We are the church. Our identity is not just in our prayer; it is lived out in the necessary human interactions of today's com-plex world. In our meetings, conferences, and religious chapters, let us work to discover how God is entering us more deeply into God's own life--a life of shared dialogue. If the incarnation is the result of our trinitarian God's meet-ing, in what ways are God and divine grace present to the world in our human meetings? David L. Fleming SJ 65.3 2006 KAREN M. KENNELLY The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress: A Retrospective coming together 230] A myriad of thoughts and images come to mind as I look back at the Congress on Consecrated Life held in Rome in November 2004: hundreds of faces, a babble of languages, colorful multinational garb, and icons of the Woman at the Well and the Good Samaritan focusing us on the congress theme, "Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity." The mixed composition of the congress made it unique. For the first time, leadership from both women's and men's congregations met in an international con-vocation to address a common agenda. Repre-sentatives of the national and international conferences of religious, groups of young religious and theologians, and editors of religious journals joined religious superiors as full participants. Karen M. Kennelly CSJ, a member of her congregation's leadership team, may be addressed at Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet; 2311 S. Lindbergh Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63131. Review for Religious A further note of uniqueness lay in the process used to prepare for, carry out, and follow up on the meeting. Preparation spanned a four-year period involving "envisioning" and "theological summary" groups. The first group sought to achieve consensus on the actual reality of religious life today by eliciting facts and testimonials from around the world. The second analyzed the collected information from a theological perspective and summarized it in a working paper sent in advance to all congress participants. We all had an opportunity to express our preferences for small-group discussions on topics drawn from the working paper. Theologians responsible for composing the paper came from Norway, Spain, France, Italy, the United States, the Philippines, and Burkina Faso. Others, from Mexico, Germany, and Peru, collaborated via the Internet. During the congress a third or "Listeners" group gathered impressions and ideas as they were expressed in papers presented by the major speakers, in written reports from groups, and in comments from the floor. This group's work culminated in a synthesis presented to the congress on the last day. My experience as a member of the Listeners group made me aware of the congress planners' painstaking efforts to be as pluralistic and inclusive as possible, achieving active participation by those present to the extent that numbers, languages, and ~ime permitted. As with the other groups, our membership comprised about equal numbers of women and men, drawn from every continent. From day to day our dialogue grew in intensity as we listened, exchanged impressions and observations, and began identifying common threads among the multiplicity of ideas brought to the floor. The principal speakers brought unique perspectives to the assessment of contemporary religious life, beginning 6~.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 232 ] with a joint paper by two Italians, Bruno Secondin and Diana Papa, a Carmelite and a Poor Clare. They invited the 847 participants, gathered at some ninety round tables and aided by simultaneous translations into six languages, to begin the adventure of immersing themselves in the themes articulated in the working paper. Dolores Aleixandre, of Spain, a Religious of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and a theologian, brought scriptural exegesis to the congress's theme, religious life as passion for Christ and for humanity. She saw in the icons of the Samaritan Woman and the Good Samaritan "a call to center ourselves on the essential, to a different way of relating to each other, of supporting each other intercongregationally, of making room for the laity" (cited from her paper as published in Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity, Pauline Books and Media, 2005, pp. 91-125)--insights that were to be echoed frequently by congress participants in the days to come The Brazilian Jesuit Jo~o Batista Lib~nio brought a sociological and liberation-theology perspective to religious life at the beginning of the third millennium. He spoke of the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience as having significance today only in relation to three elements: an experience of God, community life, and mission. He challenged us to rethink consecrated life from the bottom up in the light of contemporary reality with all its "ambiguity, perplexity, and paradox" (PCPH, pp. 127-171). The British Dominican Timothy Radcliffe asked "what signs religious life offers" in the wake of the World Trade Towers' destruction on 11 September 2001, an event he views as symbolic of the world in which religious life exists today, paradoxically bound ever more tightly together by instant communication and ever more deeply divided by violence (PCPH, pp. 173-189). How, he asked, Review for Religious can religious be a "sign of humanity's common home in God" in a world suffering a crisis of homelessness? What future awaits religious life in a world seemingly offering only a future of violence? What has religious life to offer as the culture of control and the struggle for hegemony intensify? A North American voice was heard in the person of an Immaculate Heart of Mary sister, Sandra M. Schneiders. She picked up on a topic Radcliffe had noted as fundamental but had not explored, namely, the culture of consumerism and our -:~ witness to poverty. Her reflections involved a discussion of how religious incarnate renunciation of the "world" and go about creating "the alternate world generated by the profession of the vows" (PCPH, pp. ' i '~ " ~ ' ' 191-218). Characterizing the . ~ . "' -' ~ . . religious lifestyle as one rooted in the "public, lifelong commitment of the members, as individuals and as communities, to a characteristic approach to material goods, power, and sexuality," she caught the assembly's imagination early in her talk with her arresting statement that she would discuss, not "the future Of religious life," but rather "religious life of the future." Schneiders's imaginative and theologically profound exploration of evangelical poverty as the "economy of the reign of God," and of prophetic obedience as the "politics of the reign of God," gave us much to think about as Vincentian Franc Rod6, prefect of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL), brought the series of formal presentations to a close with a recapitulation of major .¢":t~lig!oU~ life,'in a world ~seemingly offering only ~a~tu~e ff v~ole~ce? 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 234 themes in recent papal documents such as Hta consecrata and Novo millennio ineunte (PCPH, pp. 219-2 3 6). Participants next divided into continental groups to look at sociological factors touching upon consecrated life in their own continents, noting both positive and negative effects these factors were thought to have on the capacity of religious to be passionate for Christ and for humanity. Some of the most acute observations expressed in the congress--whether from the floor during open-microphone time or in the hastily written reports-- flowed from these gatherings. As Listeners striving to perceive the essence of group contributions, we constandy had to make allowances for the great diversity within the somewhat artificial continental categories. The Europeans prefaced their report by describing it as a "communion of intentions" and "truly an exercise in European communion," given the different languages and situations in which Europe finds itself. Asians noted the vastness of their continent and its diversity of languages, cultures, religions, and political and economic systems before commenting on their many shared concerns. The Africans' preface included this in bold type: "Note: in Africa it is not possible to generalize. There is great diversity in the situations." Those from Oceania, the smallest segment of the congress, nevertheless noted the extremes they represented: countries with predominantly Western European lifestyles and countries where the lifestyles are indigenous to Melanesia and the Pacific. Only the North American and Latin American groups dispensed with such cautions and addressed directly their shared task of identifying the impact of sociological factors on religious life as they experienced it. Themes from the continental groups that seem worthy of special attention, whether for their singularity Review for Religious or their commonality, include gender issues; war, violence, and disease; globalization; aging, institution-alization, and rigid structures; and clear signs of new life among religious. Religious from every continent saw gender issues as adversely affecting contemporary religious life. Europeans referred to "the open question of gender" and felt that, "because of the sexual abuse and the impact on the mass media, consecrated life is reduced in energy and its ability to witness: a sense of desolation pervades and passion is suppressed." Asians underscored "male North Americans were succinct in ~their assertion that "the ~ ~,!sociology' within the church is-an obstacle to the passion for Christ and for humanity." domination in society and church" and "machismo and male domination" as sociological factors adversely affecting them. The African report alluded to the problem in rather oblique fashion by noting that "the idea of relations between men and women continues to be very much determined by the culture." North Americans were succinct in their assertion that "the sociology within the church is an obstacle to the passion for Christ and for humanity. The lack of inclusivity . . . results in feelings of displacement in the church, a sense of being marginalized by many, particularly in women's communities." Those from the Latin American (and Caribbean) continental group cited as important values "awareness of the processes of exclusion and the greater involvement of women." They felt they were being called to "generate a feminine 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress religious life with more involvement and responsibility for the building of a new history and a feminine consciousness-raising that challenges the machismo in society and in the church." The Oceania report minced no words in seeing as a problem the "public face of the church: powerful, antiwomen, and hypocritical." It came as no surprise that Europeans were the most forceful in pointing out the "aging of the population, the generation gap in religious life," and "rigidity in structures, even of consecrated life" as sociological factors with negative effects on religious life. In other words, they asserted that the passion of religious for humanity is blocked by the "way in which our structures are closed and in which we are closed towards the world of the laity." Less predictable was the echoing of this view by other groups. The Asians, for example, felt that institutionalization in their region had created a gap between them and the people, "especially the poor, who identify us with the rich," and that "religious structures have stifled the spirit and dynamism of religious life. The young feel restricted and their freedom hindered by structures the old always lean on." A similar concern shows up in the African report; it lists as negative aspects "the weight of tradition" and "a way of seeing authority at the level of leaders, a traditional conception which still dominates both society and religious life." This report speaks urgently of a need for reflection on consecrated life that is distinctly African, a need to find an African way of following Christ. Such thoughts question the worth of structures inherited from a colonial past. These concerns surfaced also in the Asian group, which considered it deplorable that "Asian religious have been uprooted from their rich culture." The report from Oceania, too, alluded to rigid structures when it asserted that "restorationism" in the church, Review for Religious while attracting people looking for security, has caused consecrated life to lose credibility as a radical commit-ment to justice. The Latin Americans saw sociological factors to be causes or occasions of religious being "tamed by the institution [of religious life], tired, with little hope, disenchanted, adapting, living in indifference, [possessing] little consciousness of [consecrated life's] own identity, of its own ability to search, [experiencing] great difficulty in having deep interpersonal relationships with others and with God." They offered the intriguing possibility of countering this loss of the prophetic and mystic elements of religious life by working with the "small utopias which act in favor of humanity and in collaboration with other ecclesial, intercongregational, and extraecclesial groups that search for the same reality/values/things." The impact had on contemporary religious life by war, other forms of violence, and disease was noted by every group but particularly by the Africans, who noted the prevalence of AIDS, malaria, and other diseases and the instability resulting from wars and ethnic and religious conflicts in that continent. "Violence is growing: it questions us," said the Europeans. Asians expressed serious concern over effects of war and violence, especially in the Middle East, and over the "rise of religious fundamentalism, resulting in communal violence." North Americans deplored the "normalization of violence" and what they perceived as its causes. All groups saw globalization as exerting a great influence on society and on consecrated life today. The Africans saw it--along with urbanization, unem-ployment, and migration--as contributing to poverty at various levels. They blamed it for "hindering a deep form 237 ,i 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 238 of communication" and for contributing to a lack of reflection specifically on African consecrated life. Asians saw "elitist globalization" as having destructive effects on the poor and marginalized, on families, and especially on youth. Latin Americans described "neoliberal globalization" as destroying "what is particular to/in our countries," as especially damaging to young people, and as a spur to migration, with its multiple social dislocations. Oceania observed globalization as affecting the entire region-- countries indigenous in character and countries predominantly Western European--by widening the gap between rich and poor and "elevating greed to the status of a virtue." This summary of.the continental group reports, brief though it is, suggests a major accomplishment and a major flaw of the congress. Those present heard the voices of religious from every corner of the world with a wonderful immediacy and force. On the other hand, we simply did not have time for much dialogue of a more personal kind. Each of the continental reports, however, concluded with a very provocative section on signs of hope and of new life. Groups cited a growing sense of communion among congregations and between laypersons and religious, of the importance of personal relationships, of commitment, of community and of belonging, of greater interiority along with a lessened grip of institutionalism. Europeans made the arresting statement that secularization, despite its negative consequences, is also "causing us to love the world as it is with hope." Asians remarked that our times are ripe with opportunity: "As Asians in Asia, we have our own experience of God. By this, perhaps, we can contribute to the vitality, of religious life. It is time for rebirthing our institutes with our Asian Revie~ for Religious identity." Africans saw themselves as bringing to religious life the gifts of a deep sense of God and of the family which leads to sharing and attentiveness to one another. One young African, during the all-too-brief open microphone time in a plenary session, good-naturedly scolded his European elders for perceiving death for religious life in the future, whereas their "children" from other parts of the world, hoisted on the shoulders of their European parents, can see farther ahead to future life! North Americans ventured the opinion that aging could be looked upon as "saging," an opportunity to draw new life from the wisdom of the elderly. Diminishment, they thought, provides "a freedom to reshape religious life." Participants barely had the continental group reports in hand before moving on to topical discussions in groups ranging in size from six to over a hundred, depending on people's interests: ¯ Justice, peace, and the suffering of humanity. ¯ Inculturation--the embodiment of consecrated life in a culturally pluralistic world. ¯ Interreligious dialogue. ¯ The arts: imaging and expressing a new song. ¯ Mass media and the communication of values. ¯ Liberating the prophetic: solidarity in a world of exclusion. ¯ Liberating the prophetic: celibacy and life-giving relationships. ¯ Tilling the soil of Sacred Scripture. ¯ Thirst for God and the search for meaning. ¯ Ongoing formation for personal conversion and corporate transformation. ¯ Congregational culture. ¯ Community as mission. ¯ Partnership with the laity. ¯ Leadership and authority. ¯ The ecclesial dimensions of consecrated life. Although the time allocated for these discussions was brief, each topic was based on material in the working paper 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 24:0 distributed well in advance of the meeting. Participants came prepared and were assigned their first choice among the three topics in which they had indicated interest before coming. As a result, they shared many thoughtful insights with one another; a summary appears in Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity (pp. 237-241). Those of us present for the congress received the somewhat longer reports composed by group reporters on site. Some Conclusions For me, the challenge posed by the congress was at the time and remains today one of assimilation and communication. The rich papers presented by speakers, along with participants' voices as reflected in reports by the continental and topical groups, left our table of Listeners with the nearly impossible task of assimilating content and shaping it into a synthesis at the final session. Our summary, "What the Spirit Says Today to Consecrated Life," compressed into an hour's oral delivery the reflection and discernment that had absorbed us during the entire congress. Rather than repeat that synthesis (see PCPH, pp. 243- 255), I want to share what stand out for me a year later as the two most significant messages conveyed by this unique gathering. The first is that the Spirit is at work among us today, regardless of how old or young we are as religious, no matter how old or young our congregations, and no matter whether we come from north, south, east, or west. The second is that a contemplative approach is required of the members of our congregations if we are to discern what the Spirit is saying to us at this critical moment of our history, some forty years since Vatican Council II invited religious to renew their lives in the light of the gospel, their foundational charisms, and the signs of the times. Review for Religious The Spirit calls us to revive the enchantment, the passion, we had when we first responded, as congregations and as individuals, to Jesus' call to love God and our neighbor with all our heart. The Spirit calls us to personal and institutional renewal, to inculturation and to interreligious dialogue. The Spirit calls us to an inclusive attitude toward the laity, .and this, in turn, calls for new structures and a new language expressive of the inner reality Of our consecrated life. The Spirit calls us to esteem personal relations over structure, and to develop ourselves as religious capable of loving human relationships. We are called by Jesus to be passionate and to exercise ",~ and alfenation,of any kind. compassion toward others, particularly toward all who suffer the indignities of poverty, discrimination, and alienation of any kind. The congress experience brought home to me anew that we are living through, a period of vast and deep change in consecrated life--a sort of gestation period heavy with the promise of new birth. The seeds have been planted in good ground and are being warmed and watered by the life-bearing winds of the Spirit. We have only to tend the garden and pay attention with a discerning eye to the sprouts of new life lest we uproot them as noxious weeds.before they have a chance to flower and bear fruit. 6Y.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress Our congregations are being called to collaborate with the Spirit in bringing to birth the consecrated life of the future. It was apparent at the congress---its participants a cross section of more than six hundred congregations of women and men from all over the world--that the vision, the hopes, and the sense of urgency are widely shared. The modes of discernment and dialogue will necessarily differ from country to country, depending on culture and opportunity, but the desire for intra- and inter-congregational reflection and collaboration is present among religious in every continent. As a practical matter, I would urge congregations to take advantage of their forthcoming chapters to follow up on major themes explored at the congress. Chapters are periodically convened by every congregation; agendas and processes can readily be shaped to facilitate the kind of individual and corporate reflection we need and desire. Although successful use of this option is not without difficulties, it would seem to offer .the best chance for congregations to address the congress message in a timely way, and to seek the implications of that message for themselves. Clearly there are a few obstacles to surmount if we are to facilitate contemplative chapters that make good use of the theological and sociological perspectives offered at the congress. International congregations, whose members often constitute a microcosm of the multicultural 2004 gathering in Rome, in many cases still experience subtle Western attitudes that prevent the kind of dialogue modeled by the congress. Smaller local congregations may need to push beyond parochial concerns to help members achieve a broader vision and seek greater goals. But all must beware of a tendency toward activism, the preoccupation with doing rather than being that marks our contemporary world. Review for Religious Whether we come from large or small congregations, from apostolic, monastic, or contemplative "families" of religious; whether we can trace our history back for centuries or only a few years; and whether we are Americans, Europeans, Asians, Africans, or Oceanians, we are all called by the Spirit to use the congress and our own experience as a springboard to dive into the deep pool of Holy Mystery in which we religious live and move and have our being. It is for us at this crucial point in our history to delve deeper, to listen, to reflect, to dialogue, and to discern the spiritual realities of the life and mission we share as religious, to ask ourselves how we need to be if we are to do the works of persons passionate for Christ and passionate for humanity. Suggested Reading Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity, Pauline Books and Media, 2005. Reflection/Discussion Questions 1. As I/we read the responses from the different continental groups regarding the future of religious life, which response gave me/us new insight and which response would I/we want to discuss further? 2. How can we take advantage of the "aging" of religious life members in our country to draw upon their wisdom ("saging') for our apostolic life and direction? 3. What practical steps do I/we need to take in order to adopt a more contemplative approach to listen to and follow the movements of the Spirit within our religious life context? 6Y.3 2006 RACHEL M. HARRINGTON A New Way of Meeting 244 Dissatisfaction with the timeworn chapter for-mula for the meetings of our congregation, the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur, as an international congregation of pontifical right resulted in a mandate from the 2002 chapter for us, the newly elected congre-gational leadership team, to explore new ways of assem-bling that took account of our multicultural identity. The dissatisfaction focused on the number and variety of pro-posals submitted for chapter discussion, the abundance of paper generated before, during, and after each chapter, and the dominance of the Western cultural model for meeting and discussion. Canon law offers little help. In accordance with the principle of subsidiarity, it provides for each institute the right to establish its own legislation for chapters pro-vided this falls within certain norms. Our constitutions, approved in 1989, contain several articles and directives for conducting chapters, no more restrictive, we think, Rachel M. Harrington SNDdeN is a member of the generalate lead-ership team of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur. Their address is Via Raffaello Sardiello, 20; 00165 Roma, Italy. Review for Religio~s than many, and certainly tried and tested and not lightly to be discarded. One suggestion, superficially attractive, was to separate the chapter of affairs from the chapter of elections. Our general treasurer pointed out a major flaw in this proposal: chapters are expensive meetings. So we continued to talk and dream. Our directives, or rather the traditional interpretation of them, provide for a "midchapter" meeting,, an inter-national gathering at the midpoint between chapters. Beyond prescribifig that at this time the congregational leadership and the provinces evaluate their implemen-tation of the constitutions, there are no further direc-tives. So, with some trepidation, we determined on this midchapter meeting as our chance to experiment. We decided to offer two sisters from each province the opportunity to experience a different type of gathering. We hoped to stimulate creative thinking to improve the next chapter in 2008. We began in May 2003 by writing a letter to each sister in the congregation, inviting her to respond to three questions. We based the questions on one of the constitutions from the section on chas.tity: Our celibacy, deepened and enriched by God's love and that of our sisters, bears fruit in a love which reaches beyond the limits of family, tribe, or nation. It enables us to be free to go wherever we may be called in the ser-vice of God's kingdom of justice, peacei and love. We asked each sister how she felt that this constitu-tion had been realized in her life and what helps or hin-drances our community had ,given her in reaching "beyond the limits of family, tribe, or nation." We encouraged sisters to respond alone or after group dis-cussion. To avoid burdening province leadership, we sug-gested that all responses be posted uncollated to the congregational leadership in Rome. We assembled an 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ A New Way of Meeting We wondered how many sisters would take, the troublet~, respond to our lettel~/ and we were overwhelmed by the number Who dld).~ 246 international planning group to help us review the responses. Membership of such groups is often pre-dictable, so we made a point of inviting sisters without previous experience of working on international groups, and, instead of looking for organizational skills, we looked rather for a different order of talents. To our delight, all of the sisters whom we approached accepted our invitation. In October 2004 we met in Rome: an economist teaching in a Kenyan university, a patristic theologian from a British univer-sity, a psychologist from Peru, a theolo-gian from Congo, an artist-liturgist from Britain, a photogra-pher with poetic writ-ing skills from the United States, and a musical-artist-liturgist from Zimbabwe. On our own team we had two cultural anthropologists, from the U.S.A. and Congo, a biblical theologian from the U.S.A., an educationist from the U.S.A., and a canon lawyer from Britain. We needed to give very little thought to the selection of facilitators; we knew whom we wanted. Sister Gabrielle Stuart RSM and Sister Mary Harrington SUSC had run facilitation workshops for leadership in Rome, and we had benefited from their expertise. That they were free and willing to be with us in this experiment was a huge encouragement.1 Traditionally our chapters are held in the U.S.A. or Europe and our midchapters in Africa or Latin America. In 1998 the midchapter took place in Peru, and so we Review for Religious selected Kenya for 31 July to August 2005. We invited a British sister serving there to be the on-site coordina-tor and to attend the Rome planning meeting. We wondered how many sisters would take the trou-ble to respond to our letter, and we were overwhelmed by the number who did, almost half the congregation. Considering the many who were too old or sick, this was way beyond our expectations. We spent the first day of the meeting reading these responses, with a checHist of questions: How do I feel? What do I think? What sur-prised me? What delighted me? What became clearer? What shocked me? What insights did I gain? What ques-tions remain? Reading the responses moved us all deeply. Our sis-ters had responded sincerely, from the depths of their experiences as celibate women working for the poor in a variety of situations. Most acknowledged a deepening of their understanding of the call to religious life as they took risks and endured suffering, separations, rejections, and misunderstanding. All expressed gratitude for the years spent in the congregation and for the richness of life offered by membership in an international group. We compiled our reactions and, after much discus-sion guided by the facilitators, agreed upon a goal for the midchapter meeting: to enable participants to explore, express, celebrate, and live the goodness of God in a love which reaches beyond the limits of family, tribe, or nation. Our foundress, St. Julie Billiart, bequeathed to us the charism of striving to discover and become the very goodness of God in the world, and, as we read the responses of our sisters, we realized how much this was integrated into their lives. A statement made about Julie by a contemporary cardinal in Belgium, "A spark from out the heart of Christ fell upon the heart of a woman who knew how to believe and how to love," somehow 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ A New Way of Meeting 248!I captivated our thoughts as we read, and we decided to use "Sparks from the Heart of Christ" as the theme of the midchapter meeting. With the facilitators' help, we sorted ourselves into four groups: theologians, social scientists, the "fire department" (the liturgists), and the planners. We drew up questions which, as a result of our reading, we felt needed to be answered, and then we allocated tasks to each group. Everyone with a relevarit area of expertise agreed to present a paper in Nairobi on that topic to stimulate discussion. From April 2003 we spent some time at leadership meetings--held once a year on the Continent and twice a year in the U.S.A.--talking about our hopes for the meeting and encouraging the provincial leaders to choose as representatives one sister from each province who had no previous international experience and was willing to "go with the process." We also wanted one member of each leadership team to attend, so that any implementa-tion or follow-up would proceed smoothly. Although we never used the word '~delegate," and although we stressed repeatedly that this was not a chapter and not a deci-sion- making meeting, not everyone heard this. Shortly after our October 2004 planning meeting, the congress "Passioh for Christ, Passion for Humanity" took place in Rome within walking distance of our gen-eralate. As well as welcoming many of the participants to our home, we were able to access the papers on the Internet in four languages and encouraged our sisters to do likewise. Unfortunately, Internet access across the globe varies considerably, and so not all were able to take advantage of this resource. Attempting to compen-sate for this, we excerpted a couple of passages from the working paper and suggested that sisters meet in groups to discuss how they experienced the charism of our con- Review for Religious gregation in the light of their reflections on these pas-sages. We encouraged those chosen as representatives to bring the fruits of these discussions to the meeting in Nairobi. We hoped that this task would keep interest alive in the proposed meeting and enable the represen-tatives to feel that they were coming prepared. The planning group assembled in Nairobi with the facilitators on 30 July 2005, the day before the others were due to arrive. By this time we had added our gen-eral secretary and the director of our mission office to the group. We held the meeting in the Dimesse Sisters' Centre in Karen-Nairobi. Contrary to our hopes, we were unable to move in until after noon on the day we had hoped to begin. One of our biggest problems, shared by all interna-tional congregations, is that of language. We had arranged local translators for . French and Spanish, but Flemish, Italian, Portuguese, and Japanese are more difficult to provide for, especially as only relatively few sisters speak only these lan-guages. People skilled in simul-taneous translation are expensive, and we also need others who can provide necessary written trans-lations fairly rapidly. We are con-stantly learning in this area and are extremely grateful to those sisters who, proficient in two languages, generously help in translating. We mar-vel at the patient endurance of those who spend days on end listening through earphones. In social situations, as well as during the sessions, many struggled heroically to communicate across the language barriers using gestures and the few words they could manage. We provided play- 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ ~l New ~Va~ of Meeting ing cards, jigsaw puzzles, and games without words to encourage this interaction. We had invited sisters from Japan, Nigeria, the U.S.A., and Congo to help with translation and secre-tarial tasks, so altogether we numbered sixty. Every day a brief account of the meeting, composed by one of these, was sent out on our congregational Intranet in English, French, and Spanish. Access to computers was limited, but whenever they could most participants sent home enthusiastic accounts of their experiences. As we began the meeting, each province brought some "report" on their reflections about our charism; several of these were poetic or beautifully presented in visual form. During our sixteen days together we had an enormous variety of experiences, most of which involved sharing our thoughts and feelings about specific ques-tions with a sister from another culture. The facilitators guided us into these moments, which were often deep and moving, with rituals involving simple gestures, gen-tle dances, and repetitive chants celebrated around ever-changing focal points in the meeting room. As the days went on, art work created in the course of the meeting was displayed on the walls of our meeting room--pic-tures, words, designs, charts--all reflecting our moods, our perceptions of our province realities, problems we faced, questions that we raised. Over the course of the two weeks, one of our cul-tural anthropologists gave us an illuminating presentation on "unpacking culture"; the other spoke of how African myths speak of God's goodness. The theologians pre-sented talks on the goodness of God from their varied perspectives, as revealed in the Bible, in African forma-tion programs, in living religious life in Congo, and as expressed in community life in the 4th-century church. The psychologist talked on "Chastity: A Love Which Review for Religious Goes beyond the Limits." All were translated later and made available to the whole congregation. Our economist assembled three university lecturers who made brief presentations on Kenya's progress (or lack of it) towards the United Nations' millennium devel-opment goals in regard to health, education, and the environment. A fourth panelist, representing an organi-zation that works with nongovernmental organizations, spoke about the frustrations he faces in his work, where the ideal partnership between aid organizations and gov-ernments falls far short of being realized. The four stayed on for the whole morning to lead group discussions and answer questions. The sisters from each province also spoke about their ministries and tried to communicate the realities of their daily lives. Most moving were the testimonies from the war-torn Democratic Republic of Congo and from Zimbabwe. When we had afternoons off, those who wished were taken in small groups to visit various pro-jects in housing and employment, schools (including the famous Starehe boys' school and its newborn sister school for girls), and the homes of people from Saint Mary and Joseph's, the parish where some of our sisters live and work. Other optional outings were to a safari park or to see Karen Blixen's (Isak Dinesen's) home, famous from the film Out of Africa. Two of the most memorable excursions were for Mass. On the first Sunday we went to Saint Mary and Joseph's, where we were welcomed in truly memorable fashion by the parish priest and by the "mother of the parish," who told us we were all their daughters. The dancing was led by small girls all attired in snowy white tee shirts advertising U.S. baseball teams. The choir was amazing and untiring, and the packed church sang along and swayed and clapped throughout the three-hour cel- 6Y.3 2006 Harrington * A New Way of Meeting ebration. The ladies of the parish had prepared dinner, so we moved the benches around to form tables and sat down to a lavish feast of beef stew, rice, and beans. On the second occasion we were hostesses to those who came to celebrate with us the opening of our novi-tiate in Langata, Nairobi, our fourth in Africa, and a real benchmark in the history of the province. We sat outside under awnings during the Mass celebrated by the bishop; afterwards the house was blessed and a flame tree planted. The meal, prepared outside in huge pots over open fires, was enjoyed by all. In the last days of our meetings, we focused on ques-tions that had arisen during our sharings, and we brain-stormed about how to prepare for the next chapter. During the closing In the. last~ days,(~our'tneet.in~s;~rz-~ we focused on"questio~.~ ~ . h.'afl:~[ ["~ arisen duringour shariftgs, ' and we brainstormed about how, to prepare for the°ne~.t:chapt~e~(.i~ to women after any meeting. We reverently and ceremoniously placed these artifacts on the floor around the centerpiece a mock fire, built around a candle, with sparkles scattered about. Then we were all invited to collect a prayer card and some sparkles and to light a candle from the cen-tral flame. To do this we had to walk toward the center and then away, through the spread-out paintings, pic-tures, charts, designs, and pre.sentations~a sort of sym-bolic acceptance of all that had taken place and been ritual we thanked all planners and participants. We removed the vari-ous artifacts we had displayed on the walls, per-forming the clear-ing- up ritual that is traditionally left Review for Religious shared over the previous two weeks and a commitment to carry the experience home. At the beginning of the meeting we had been reminded that in this meeting no decisions would be taken: we were there to experience what it means to belong to an international, multicultural, multilingual congregation. Nonetheless, some few in their evalua-tions expressed wonderings about the apparent lack of an agenda. We knew this was a risk. There was general dissatisfaction with the three celebrations of Mass which we had together during the meeting days--not the Sundays. Bringing in clergy, out of touch with what we were experiencing together, was felt to be artificial and awkward. Communion services led by ourselves might have proved more meaningful. Some found the days long and tiring. Most wrote that this had been a life-changing experience, creating bonds across cultures and languages, inspiring hope, and providing memories to last a life-time. The deep exchanges about cultural differences gave all of us new perspectives. Throughout we had been dependent on our two facil-itators, whose style pleased all but three of those pre-sent. Every day began with a review of the purpose of the meeting, of our hopes and concerns, and of the val-ues and behaviors we intended to live by during the meeting. After the morning ritual, there was a report on the questions raised, the previous day. At day's end we gathered in our "home groups" (the same multicultural group for the entire meeting), shared our day's experi-ences, and arrived at issues or questions for the coordi-nating committee to resolve. This committee, five members of the original planning group, met with the facilitators each day for forty-five minutes after the evening ritual, discussed the matters arising from the home groups, and planned the next day. When we eval- 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ A New Way of Meeting uated our work, we realized thatthere were things we could have done differently and better. We had learned from our experience and from the feedback---another purpose of the meeting realized. The big anxiety of all present was how to communi-cate the fruits of the meeting to the sisters at home. We had papers and photographs, but these were two-dimen-sional, having meaning mainly for the participants. Carrying home fragile "sparks from the heart of Christ" challenges each of us to a new way of being, of believing, and of loving so that the sparks will ignite others and kindle new flames to spread the awareness of God's good-ness in all the events and circumstances of our lives. Note ' They can be contacted at GLOIR; 27 Catherine Street; Newry, Co. Down; BT35 6JG, Northern Ireland. E-mail: gloirinstitute@btopenworld.com Glass It's as if Benedict's single ray of light is scattered across the tables like loose jewels or a broken mirror. We sweep and pick through trays of glass, sharp bits of orange and yellow with a blue that's almost black until I hold it to the light, and I am full of a temporary completeness. Even the thunder seems gentle. Alicia Kleiman OSB Review for Religious ERNEST E. LARKIN Aspiratory Prayer, a Welcome Addition to Contemplative Prayer Aspirations (aspiratory prayer) were a treasure in' European Christianity in the late Middle Ages and one of the great legacies of the Touraine Reform in 17th-century France. This reform took place in "les Grands Carmes," the popu-lar name in France for the Carmelites of the Ancient Observance (OCarm). The style of prayer that goes by the name of aspirative or aspiratory prayer, or simply aspiration, is almost unknown in contemporary spirituality. The pre-sent article is a move to fill this lacuna and to suggest how the prayer of aspirations can con-tribute to the contemplative renewal of our times. I will first give an overview of the prayer in tradition and highlight its three outstanding proponents: the 13th-century Carthusian Hugh of Balma, the Franciscan Henry Herp (+1477), and the Carmelite John of St. Samson (1571- Ernest E. Larkin OCarm last wrote in our 64.4 issue (2005). His address remains St. Agnes Catholic Church; 1954 North 24th Street; Phoenix, Arizona 85008. 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspirator)/Prayer 1636). Finally I shall make some suggestions on how to revive the practice. What Is Aspiratory Prayer? Aspiratory prayer is a warm, human approach to God that is inexorably affective. It proceeds by way of fer-vent desires of the heart. It was considered a shortcut, a direct route, to intimacy and oneness with God. Its struc-ture is simple: frequent and intense desires breathed out to God. It has only one goal, union with God, so it ceases to have a role when mystical union is achieved. Aspirations are not the same as ejaculations, though they are like each other. E aculatory prayer.describes any to this prayer? ,.:Those and all brief prayers sent like darts to heaven for help, thanksgiving, adora-tion, or any other good motive. "My Jesus, mercy" is an ejaculation. Aspira-tions are only and always passionate desires or fer-vent acts of love of God. They are expressed in words or sighs or silence. "My God, I love you" is an aspiration. To aspire means to breathe out, with the con-notation of breathing hard after something. In aspira-tory prayer one breathes out heartfelt desires for God. It is yearning for God, like gasping for God. Aspiratory prayer is simple and focused, though in the beginning it may cover a wide sweep of emotions and feelings. Practice simplifies and unifies the faculties to give them a single thrust, much as the prayer of sim-plicity consolidates the multiple affections of affective prayer into a single attitude of loving presence. Aspiratory prayer sets the heart on one goal, divine Review for Reli~io~ union, and is a positive step in that direction. Not every-body can use it. It is not for beginners, but for those who have come to know God and themselves through Bible reading, reflection, and loving conversations with God. When a person has put her house in order and has come to love God in truth, she is ready for this prayer. For those who love God, it will become as natural as breathing. Catholic teachers in the past were sticklers in assign-ing different prayer forms to different stages of growth. The prayer of beginners was discursive meditation and affective prayer, that is, first much thinking and ~hen many affections. The next stage was contemplative, and it featured forms like simply looking at the tabernacle as in the Cur6 d'Ars' "I look at him and he looks at me," or today's resting in God in centering prayer, or saying the mantra as in Christian Meditation. Today we prob-ably pay less attention to the degrees of prayer, though we still honor them. Centering prayer and Christian Meditation have democratized contemplative prayer. Certainly some knowledge and love of the Lord is pre-supposed for contemplative prayer, but a little knowl-edge and love go a long way. Those who are comfortable with centering prayer and Christian Meditation will be at home with aspirations. Who, then, are called, to this prayer? Those who are fervent and serious about their relationship with God and have a great desire for intimacy with God. They are look-ing for the "more." The classical teaching placed the prayer in the illuminative way as part of the contempla-tive life. Two categories are involved here, and both are second stages: the illuminative comes between the purga-tive and the unitive way, and the contemplative life between the active and the mystical life. The three divi-sions correspond to beginners, the proficient, and the 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer perfect. Active life has to do with external behavior, con-templative with inner prayer, and the mystical life with high sanctity. The purgative way is concerned with con-version and purification, the illuminative way with enlightenment, and the unitive with union with God. The three ways and their content are criticized today for being too dependent on Neoplatonic philosophy, the system that canonized the immaterial and denigrated the bodily.' Aspirative prayer rises above this controversy and in fact is a corrective against exaggerated spiritual-ism and minimizing the physical and bodily in the spir-itual life. Aspirations welcome and embrace the emotional and the sensible; these human qualities lead to the highest realms of the spirit. They move the experi-ence of God away from the intellectual and into the realm of affection and love.2 Aspiratory prayer comes out of the same tradition as centering prayer and Christian Meditation. The latter two are contemporary constructions from that contem-plative tradition, a development that aspiratory prayer has yet to find. But all three systems appeal to the same sources, the same authors, and even the same texts for their grounding and justification.3 This fact and their constant location in the middle stage of spiritual devel-opment argue to their commonality. Centering prayer and Christian Meditation seek silent presence and quiet resting in God. At the same time they are active prayer, rightly called meditation of a nondiscursive or contemplative type. They are not clas-sical contemplation in the sense of infused prayer, but are products of human effort and ordinary grace. Aspiratory prayer is obviously active in the same sense. It uses the language of intense, passionate love and expresses the yearning of the heart and delights to rest in the Lord. Review for Religious Aspiratory prayer is more than loving conversation with God. It expresses a strong act of the will that desires to experience God. So it is more than a t&e-a-t&e, even in the loving language of affective colloquy. The differ-ence is intensity. Affective prayer engages the feelings but in a diffuse way, whereas a strong will and urgent longings for intimacy dominate aspiratory prayer. Aspirations fit nicely into the perspectives and prac-tice of "love mysticism," which is a form of relating to God in spousal love. The language of spousal love is very human, amorous, and passionate. Its biblical source is the Song of Songs or St. John's Gospel, and it is a fre-quent feature in medieval women mystics and also in writers like St. Bernard or St. John of the Cross. Janet K. Ruffing has written a guide for the spiritual direction of those called to this way. She gives many examples of its language, one of which is the following conversation in Mechthild of Magdeburg, who says to God: "God, you are my lover, / my longing, / my flowing stream, / my sun, / and I am your reflection." And God replies: "It is my nature that makes me love you often, / for I am love itself. / It is my longing that makes me love you intensely, / for I yearn to be loved from the heart. / It is my eter-nity that makes me love you long, / for I have no end.''4 Aspirative prayer is not limited to spousal love. It is at home with a nonspousal love of God, which Janet Ruffing calls simply apophatic. The mysticism of the more matter-of-fact Cloud of Unknowing features whole-hearted love, often without obvious passion. In this lat-ter case the love is sublimated into disinterested love in a style of relationship that is reserved and controlled. Mystics in this pattern will practice their own brand of aspirations. Aspiratory prayer is thus a technical term, but it is not "one size fits all." Its normal form is sensible-spiri- 6~ .3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratorg/Prayer 260[ tual love. For Henry Herp only this love qualifies as aspi-ration. For him its follow-up, which is pure spiritual love, is not aspiration, but unitive love. John of St. Samson, however, treats pure spiritual love as a form of aspiration, and for him this higher aspiration leads one into the furnace of God's love in transforming union. For both authors the will is the driving force for aspira-tions and for unitive love. In sensible-spiritual love the sensibility is the carrier, but the momentum comes from the will, which makes the love truly spiritual. Do not think that the practitioner lives on a perpet-ual high. The expression Of loving desires for God con-tinues in down days and dryness as much as in times of sweetness and sensible consolation. The feeling element is still there. It must be genuine, not faked or pretended or forced. Th~r~se of Lisieux is a perfect example of the expression of passionate desires of love for God in the darkest moments of life.5 There are degrees of the practice corresponding to the person's habitual love of God and the grace of the moment. John of St. Samson sees it as leading directly into a mystical expression, in which the Holy Spirit breathes out enflamed desires for God. His conditions for practicing this prayer are demanding. Persons who take up the practice must be mortified, humble, and self-effac-ing as well as robust in health. In his view aspirations go beyond the enthusiasm of a newly baptized Pentecostal or charismatic and belong to persons advanced in the love of God and on fire for the summit. The History and Theology of Aspiratory Prayer Aspiratory prayer flourished in the late Middle Ages in northern Europe, especially the Rhineland and France, from the 13th to the 17th century. At the time of the Touraine Reform, the practice was common in popular Review for Religious religious culture. Aspirative prayer appealed to the archi-tects of Touraine because they saw the practice as dove-tailing with their view of the goal of the Carmelite order, which was to live continuously in the loving presence of God.6 Intimations of aspiratory prayer are found in the New Testament, in St. Augustine and John Cassian, who were contemporaries, in St. Benedict and Guigo II, and in other early authors. The first to give aspirative prayer a central place in the spiritual life was Hugh of Balma, whose Tbeologia Mystica exerted wide influence, partly because it was thought to be the work of St. Bonaventure. Hugh of Balina taught the way of the heart, and aspira-tory prayer was its chief expression. First one must know one's weak self and the goodness of God, since anyone filled with self is unable to yearn for God. This knowl-edge prepares one to rise up to God in "anagogic con-templation." Anagogic contemplation means moving from crea-ture to Creator, from the text of Scripture to the living God, enflamed with desire and love. Such is aspiratory prayer. The love is both natural-spiritual and purely spir-itual, and God is the direct object. The love increases with the simplification and unification of the faculties until ultimately there is mystical union with the Trinity in the high point of the soul called the apex mentis. Henry Herp and John of St. Samson will pick up on these per-spectives and expand them with the help of Jan van Ruusbroec's theology (1293-1381). Hugh had many imitators, especially among the Carthusians, who promoted and developed this teach-ing so effectively that Everard Mercurian, an early gen-eral of the Jesuits, warned the Society about "the Carthusian method of prayer" for fear that its popular-ity would marginalize Ignatian prayer in Spain.7 The 6Y.3 2006 Larkin * Aspiratory Prayer 14th-century anonymous English text The Cloud of Unknowing is likely a Carthusian document, both because it can easily be interpreted as a full exposition of aspira-tory prayer and because its anonymous author may well be .a Carthusian.8 A number of familiar quotations from the book are obviously formulas of aspiratory prayer. Henry Herp OFM (+1447) Henry Herp wrote the first synthesis of the whole spiritual journey around the topic of aspirative prayer. His map is the structure of the soul as delineated by the great Flemish mystical writer Henry Herp wrote the first synthesis'of the~ around the topici of ~aspirativ~ prayer. : ~ o o Jan van Ruusbroec. The soul is three concentric circles, each of them representing a different level of human activity. Herp offers a detailed plan for moving through the outer two levels and arriving at the inner circle of highest union with the Holy Trinity. He lays down instructions for each of the phases of the journey, but his chief contri-bution is to show how aspirative prayer moves one through the middle circle. Ruusbroec calls the three circles "spheres" or "uni-ties," whereas Herp names them mansions or dwelling places like Teresa of Avila. The first is the region of the senses, the second that of the spirit, and the third the "fond" or ground, the dwelling place of the Holy Trinity. One must traverse each level to get to the center, and the way is introversion, a concept that goes back to St. Augustine. Herp calls it "ascension." Persons "ascend," that is, they are lifted up by a sweeping action that carries them through the given circle and toward Review for Religious the center; the searcher for God leaves behind the lesser level or part of it in favor of the higher one. This process of introversion means making the powers on each level converge toward the center. The activity of each level is collapsed into the next step. In this imagery the outer circle of exterior behavior is introverted into the mid-dle circle, and in the middle the lower faculties of the irascible and concupiscible appetites, and of reason and free will, are introverted into the spiritual faculties of intellect, memory, and will. These latter will finish the task and bring the soul into mystical union in the center. The introversion or ascension starts with the outer or exterior circle, which represents the active life. The means set down by Herp for this first introversion are "truth and compassion." Truth means understanding the goodness of God and the bankruptcy of the human, and compas-sion is appreciating God's love and attractiveness. The middle level is the field for aspiratory prayer and unitive love. Aspirations address the "interior infe-rior powers," especially the concupiscible appetite, which in Herp's view has a spiritual quality about it. Unitive love is exercised by the spiritual faculties. Understanding guides the process: hence the importance of regular med-itation and of the use of prepared ejaculations that recall the supreme attraction of God and serve to inflame the soul with love. The awakened will moves the sensory faculties to yearn for God, progressively spiritualizing the person for the work of unitive love, For Herp, uni-tive love takes over the task begun in the lower interior faculties. The acts of pure, unitive love finish the task of the introversion of the spirit level and open the way to the center. In the center the love is fruitive love. The contemplative way is left behind, and the soul now lives the "super-essential life" of oneness with the Trinity, a union that is not ontological but psychological. ¯ ,263 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer Herp offers some good pastoral advice. The stages are to be addressed in order and none can be skipped. Basic conversion is presupposed for undertaking aspira-tory prayer, and that means an adult knowledge of God and one's self and the acquisition of the moral virtues. Aspiratory prayer begins with rote expressions of love and fervor. According to Herp, these feelings crescendo into what he calls an explosion of love, which has its own danger of entrapping the person in the delightful, sen-sible sweetness. The love is gradually purified and becomes the unitive love that will lead the soul into the center. Unitive love too undergoes its own purifications, and the follow-up experiences may be as dark and dry as the initial entry was exalted. The challenge at this point, as at every point in the spiritual life, is marginal-izing the self, that is, letting go of everything that is not God. The holy soul practicing spiritual love will con-tinue to work at the total gift of self to God, and its tasks are listed by Herp as self-offering, searching for God's will, letting God's love destroy all defects, and being united with God. John of St. Samson (1571-1636) John of St. Samson is an immensely important figure in the Carmel of the Ancient Observance. He was a mys-tic of profound experience, and, in spite of the blindness that afflicted him from the age of three, he was well edu-cated and well read, keeping in touch with currents of spirituality in the very rich 17th century. He has been called the French John of the Cross and is highly esteemed by religious historians like Henri Bremond and Louis Cognet. John of St. Samson lived a century and a half after Herp, but Herp's work was well known to him in the numerous Latin and French translations and in the Review for Religious plethora of spiritual writings that popularized aspiratory prayer. John of St. Samson became expert in the teach-ing of this way, building on Herp but adding his own points of view. There had been a lot of writing, but lit-tle development since Herp. After a careful comparison of the two authors, Canisius Janssen concludes that John's doctrine is Herp in a new packaging. "Certain things have been left out," he writes, "others developed; in short the whole has acquired a new face.''9 John belongs to the same Dutch school of mys-ticism as Herp, both of them appropriating the worldview of Ruusbroec. We come from God as created images in the Uncreated Word, and our life goal is to return to our place in the Word in full consciousness of our unity in God. The goal is put I ," bY engaging oi r feetings t " : and iemo.tions. I as well as'our spiriL rather abstractly as "the state of consummation of the subject in the Object" in a "union without difference or distinction." Such is the transforming union, in which the soul is caught up in the fire of the divine life. The way to the goal is introversion according to the same divisions as in Henry Herp, but with the adaptations in nomenclature. John is particularly eloquent is explaining how spir-itual love guides the whole process of introversion once aspirations become the way. Spiritual love is at the heart of sensible-spiritual aspirations, and it constitutes the spiritual aspirations that lead one into the center itself. Aspirations have the genius of putting our full humanity to work by engaging our feelings and emotions as well as 6~.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspirator)/Prayer 266 our spirit. Sensible love is the starter, and it houses the spiritual love in sensible-spiritual aspirations. When the aspirations become "more vigorous, more on fire, and more detached from sense," they are pure spiritual love. This spiritual love, with or without a sensible compo-nent, is the engine that drives the introversion process into the furnace that is God. Aspiration thus has a mystical quality in John, as is clear from the following quotation: Aspiration is not only an affectionate colloquy. ; that is what aspiration is born of and comes forth from. Aspiration, then, is an outpouring of the whole heart and spirit on fire with love. By it the soul quickly tran-scends itself and all of creation, becoming intimately united with God in the intensity of its loving expres-sion. Expressing itself quintessentially in this way, the soul transcends all tender, sensible, cerebral, and com-prehensible love, reaching by the vehemence of God's spirit and its own effort, not just any divine union, but a sudden transformation of its spirit into God. In the abounding and ineffable sweemess of God him-self lovingly embracing one's spirit, it transcends, I say, all familiar and intelligible love. This is the essence of aspiration, in itself, in its cause, and in its effect.1° Heart (that is, the sensibility) and spirit (that is, the loving will) are the framers of aspirations, and heart even-tually recedes in favor of pure spirit. In the beginning there will be multiplicity of thought and feelings, but with growth this richness will give way to ever increas-ing simplicity and a state of pure elevation in God. Intensity is of the essence, since only strong love can break the attachments of the faculties to their natural objects. Frequency is a necessary quality, since the goal is to make aspirations like second nature, as natural as breathing. Humility too is the essential underpinning of all true love. But in all these efforts balance and moder-for Religious ation must prevent any violence or excessive force. John of St. Samson, experienced spiritual director, has good advice on how to begin and how to grow in this beauti-ful practice, and his reflections will help us put our topic in perspective. Who are candidates for this prayer? The prayer is not for everybody. It is not for intellectuals or for shal-low people who live on the surface of things and whose fire burns up quickly like straw. It is for generous souls of strong will who are concerned about their interior life. When to begin? Brother John sees aspirations as a higher form of prayer; hence he is hesitant to promote it indiscriminately. Aware of the dangers of too much emo-tionality as well as its necessary predispositions, he coun-sels against beginning the prayer prematurely. Strain and force must be resisted lest there be physical or psycho-logical harm. It is necessary to guard against a too san-guine assessment of one's love of God. The apostle Peter felt a great love for Jesus that led to presumption and his denial of Jesus in the courtyard. John's basic condition for the practice is a mortified life. He fears the unguarded attraction of the sweetness of this love. So he writes: "To begin this exercise it is absolutely necessary to die to ourselves, to humble ourselves, and to be self-effacing (mepriser)."llJohn is probably thinking of his own novices and their year of novitiate whenhe writes that candi-dates for this prayer should have spent "a good year" in discursive meditation and affective prayer before taking up aspirations. He also warns newcomers that begin-nings will be troublesome, even painful, but practice makes perfect and easy. The process of introversion follows Herp detail for detail. Like Herp, John of St. Samson is lyrical in his descriptions of the outcome of introversion, which is 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer entrance into "the marvelous effects and the spiritual inebriation" of touching the fond or ground of one's being, where the Holy Trinity dwells and the essential union with God takes place. This mystical state is trans-formation in the fire that is God. Aspiratory Prayer in Contemplative Life Today It remains to suggest ways in which this body of teaching can be put into practice in today's contempla-tive setting. A first step, and one that is often presented in the literature, is to connect aspirations with the practice of the presence of God. This means to murmur aspirations frequently during the course of the day to remind one-self of the presence of God and to offer up the present task. This is one application in The Carmelite Directory of the Spiritual Life by John Breninger OCarm and in the works of his student Kilian J. Healy OCarm.~2 A second application is to introduce aspirations into one's daily meditation in whatever form that takes. This will be an affective addition in the nondiscursive medi-tation of Christian Meditation, which features the mantra "Maranatha." The mantra itself could be the vehicle expressing love and desire. Bringing aspiration into cen-tering prayer may be a bit more difficult, since this prayer eschews thinking and emoting. Aspirative prayer may be disruptive of the silence of centering prayer. Perhaps aspirations that are expressed without words and in silence can be a friendly addition and add warmth and fervor to centering prayer. A third way to practice aspirations in one's daily prayer is to structure it much like the two disciplines of contemplative prayer. Periods of aspiratory prayer could be cultivated each day, twenty minutes to a half hour in length, with the whole time given over to aspirations. Review for Religious The aspiration could be a mantra, one phrase repeated over and over again, or it could be spontaneous expres-sions of love and desire. The single mantra may be more compatible with the contemplative nature of the prayer than multiple expressions. Whatever the exact structure aspiratory prayer will take, it will usually be prefabricated and perfunctory in the beginning. But it soon becomes part of one's approach to God in mental prayer. Hopefully it will bring the rich rewards promised by the tradition. Notes ~ Philip Sheldrake, Spirituality and History (New York: Orbis Books, 1995), pp.186-189. 2 Aspiratory prayer is more at home with the language of love than with the Greek categories of contemplation. The literature of the Touraine Reform seems to prefer the evangelical language. One of my esteemed Carmelite teachers and mentors over a lifetime, whose life and studies were dominated by Touraine, frequently showed annoyance at the ambiguities of the vocabulary of contemplation. He preferred to speak of "love" and "loving" as the true measure of prayer rather than dif-ferent forms of "contemplation" or "contemplative." Instead of describ-ing Carmelite life as "contemplative," he preferred the simple word ,prayerful." I interpreted his attitude as a reflection of the viewpoint of Touraine. 3 Canisius Janssen OCarm surveys the sources of aspiratory prayer in the first of two excellent articles on the history and theology of aspira-tory prayer, "Oraison aspirative chez Herp et chez ses pr~d~cesseurs," Carmelus 3 (1956): 19-48. It lists the sources of this prayer in earlier times before its first major exponent, Henry Herp. These sources turn out to be the same texts cited in studies on the roots of centering prayer and Christian Meditation. An example of the latter is Robert W. Ginn's defense against critics, "Centering Prayer: Reviving the Ancient Christian Tradition in Modern Times," a manuscript dated 5/26/05 and circulated by Contemplative Outreach. Janssen's second article is titled "L'oraison aspirative chez Jean de Saint Samson," Carmelus 3 (1956): 185-216. I wish to express my gratitude for these two studies and my indebtedness to them in the formation of the present paper. 4 Spiritual Direction: Beyond the Beginnings (New York: Paulist, 2000), pp. 9-10. Christian mystics from Origen on applied the imagery of the Song of Songs to their relationship with God. St. Th~r~se of Lisieux 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer belongs to this group, and a dominant feature of her prayer was aspira-tion. See Romero de Lima Gouvea OCarm, "Vivre d'amour: la pri~re aspirative chez Th~r~se de l'Enfant Jesus (1873-1897)," Carmelus 47 (2000): 19-40. s See Ernest E. Larkin OCarm, "The Little Way of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux," Review for Religious 59 (September-October 2000): 507-517, at 514-515. 6 The Touraine Reform is not as well known as its counterpart, the Discalced Reform begun by St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross in 16th-century Spain. Touraine began in Brittany in northwest France in the next century. Like the Discalced Reform, it was a radical return to the primitive spirit of the order. Unlike the Discalced Reform, Touraine did not become juridically separated from the old order, but remained in the trunk and spread to every province as the "strictior observantia." See Kilian J. Healy OCarm, Methods of Prayer in the Directory of the Carmelite Reform of Touraine (Rome: Institutum Carmelitanum, 1956), pp. 15-2 i. 7Janssen, Carmelus 3, p. 27. s This is the conclusion of James Walsh SJ in his introduction to the Classics of Western Spirituality edition of Tbe Cloud of Unknowing (New York: Paulist, 1981). 9 Janssen, Carmelus 3, p. 210. ~°Jean de St. Samson, L'dguillon, les flammes, les fl~cbes, et le miroir de l'amour de Dieu, in Oeuvres completes I, edition critique par Hein Blommestijn (Rome: Institutum Carmelitanum, 1992), p. 98. Aspiration donc n'est pas seulement un colloque affectueux. ; c'est d'icelui que nait et procede l'aspiration. Aspiration donc est un poussement amoureux, enflamm~ de tout le coeur et l'esprit; par lequel l'ame surpasse pronte-ment elle mesme et toute chose cre~e, s'unissant ~troitement ~ Dieu en la vivacit~ de son expression amoureuse; laquelle ainsi .Essentiellement exprim6e, surpasse tout amour sensible, raisonnable, intellectuel et con-prehensible; arrivant par l'impetuosit6 de l'esprit de Dieu et de son effort, ~ l'union de Dieu, non tellement quellement, mais par une soudaine transformation de l'esprit en Dieu. L'esprit, dis-ie, surpasse en lui m~me tout l'amour connessable et intelligible en l'abondante et ineffable suavitd de Dieu mesme, auquel il est amoureusement englouti. Voila que c'est que l'aspiration Essentielle en elle m~me, sa cause et son effet. (The passage is cited by Janssen in the article on John of St. Samson, p. 195. The translation has been made from the text in the c.ritical edition cited above.) li Janssen, Carmelus 3, p. 204. 12 The translation of the Directorium Carmelitanum was made from the Latin by Leo J. Walter OCarm (Chicago: Carmelite Press, 1951). See Review for Religious also Kilian J. Healy, Walking with God (New York: Declan X. McMullen, 1948), reprinted as Awakening Your Soul to the Presence of God (Manchester, New Hampshire: Sophia Institute Press, 1999); see also his chapter in Methods of Prayer, pp. 60-75. Reflection Questions 1. What have I learned about aspiratory prayer as I have read Larkin's article? 2. How might I begin to make aspiratory prayer a daily part of my prayer life? Growing Old The new hearing aid magnifies sounds I've not heard for years and discover I haven't missed. It is not my ears that hear the call to live the soul's desire. I can see tiny print with trifocals but not the messages in everything. I can no longer storm heaven's gates, have lost the need to do so. I am learning to wait gracefully with gratitude for them to open from inside. I am preparing to accept the invitation to eternity. "Growing old" begins with growing. Bonnie Thurston 6~.3 2006 PHILIP SHAN0 "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises A few words by St. Ignatius Loyola in the Contemplation of the Kingdom of Jesus Christ (§§91-98) have been .understood to refer to "repose days." 1 Ignatius says, "This exercise [the kingdom] should be gone through twice during the day, that is, in the morning on rising and an hour before dinner, or before supper" (§99).2 George E. Ganss SJ describes this day as "a transitional day of relative repose with only two peri-ods prescribed." 3 It is Ignatius's introduction to the rest of the retreat. In a note Louis Puhl SJ says Ignatius's words show that the "kingdom" day is a "day intervening between the First and Second Weeks.''4 In this study we will look at the historical roots of the contemporary notion of repose days in the hope of raising some ques-tions for spiritual directors to discuss in their planning of Twentieth Annotation (thirty-day) versions of the Spiritual Exercises. Philip Shano SJ is novice director and superior at the Jesuit Novitiate of the North American Martyrs; 1035 Summit Avenue; St. Paul, Minnesota 55105. Review for Religious An early historical reference to a repose day comes from the directory of Father Juan Alfonso de Polanco, Ignatius's secretary. Polanco's directory, completed years after Ignatius's death, is generally considered the finest of those which preceded the official Directory in 1599, pre-sumably because of his closeness to Ignatius. Polanco says of this day during the retreat: "When it is time for the exercitant to move on, he should be allowed to catch his breath by giving him the meditation on the kingdom of Christ to be made twice, once in the morning and once in the evening. On that day nothing else should be given. Then, toward evening, he should be given the exercise on the incarnation to be made the next day at daybreak.''5 Note, the retreatant "should be allowed to catch his breath." Similar words are used in later directories--"as he catches his breath for a bit.''6 An anonymous direc-tory dating from the 1580s speaks of the retreatant tak-ing "a rest from his exertions until evening.''7 The directory of Father Gil Gonzfilez Dfivila, from about 1587, says the retreatant "should rest., without being given the usual load of exercises. He may, however, occupy himself with some easy meditation suited to'this time.''8 Finally, the "Official Directory of 1599" brings together some of the earlier directories: "After their gen-eral confession and Communion, those planning to con-tinue the Exercises beyond the First Week should take at least a day's rest from the intense labor of meditation. However, in the meantime they can think over and apply to themselves the parable of the Prodigal Son or some-thing similar. Moreover, they should be given a prepa-ration for their Communion so that they will approach it with reverence, faith, and spiritual relish. They should be given some suitable meditation for this.''9 A present-day handbook for directors of the Spiritual Exercises suggests that, in order to deepen the grace of 65.3 2006 Sbano ¯ "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises the First Week, it is important to have a day of easier presence to the Lord. "The desirable thing is simply to enjoy the day with the Lord, rejoicing in his love and praising him. This time precedes the meditation on the Call of the King, and it is not a break day. Some directors refer to the day that separates any two major sections of the Exercises as a ¯ - break day. Others call it a day of repose. Whatever the words used, this day provides time for transition from one empha-sis to another. It usually includes . some relaxation ~ ~- from the intensity of the retreat . Relaxing after the First Week and preparing to enter the Second Week, the retreatant con-siders the material in one prayer period before taking the break and another at its conclusion.''1° It is clear from early directories that the idea was to give the exercitant a pause and then, later that same day, to resume the usual rhythms of the retreat. Considering that Ignatius is known for attentiveness to every detail of a retreatant's life, it is my assumption that he did not see any problem with having repose days. Considering that the Exercises were generally given to individuals, it is furthermore my assumption that repose days were dis-cerned together by the director and the retreatant with a view to the retreatant's particular needs at that juncture. That is, director and reteatant were not ruled by a cal-endar date set for the convenience of someone or some Repose days becom important intensity relievers during anyone's Twentieth Annotation experie de of the Spiritual Exercises. group. Review for Religious Repose days become important intensity relievers dur-ing anyone's Twentieth Annotation experience of the Spiritual Exercises, an experience where "the exercitant withdraws from all friends and acquaintances, and from all worldly cares" (~20). These days fit into the Exercises as helpful pauses. They are not a move away from the retreat, but an approach to it from a different angle. In his look at the kingdom, William Peters sJ observes a number of stylistic differences (this "strangely structured exercise") from the other exercises. He sees "Ignatius's rather exceptional way of proceeding" here as a part of Ignatius's intention that "the retreatant is given a day of rest, of repose, a day to recuperate after the strenuous efforts of the First Week." 11 Peters's view on the place of the "rather gentle consideration" of the kingdom exercise within the entire retreat downplays the kingdom.12 He sees the "transition" day as revealing Ignatius's real pur-pose, namely, "the relationship between the unfaithful courtier and his king." 13 For Peters, the exercise is a low-key consideration, destined for a day of repose. Most directors of the Spiritual Exercises include one, two, or three repose days in the structure of the retreat. Days of repose are an integral part of the Twentieth Annotation retreat. On these days, being with the Lord interiorly and yet dealing with some ordinary aspects of life has an intensity that affects retreatants. The repose "day" is a period of the retreat (several hours ideally) when one steps back from the four or five periods of prayer that are normally recommended to retreatants. On a day of repose, individuals take a break or a "pause" from their normal retreat activity. When the retreat involves a group, the day might involve a common out-ing, a picnic or something similar. It does not mean that retreatants do not pray that day. The repose day is a break from the intense prayer of the retreat mode--noth- 65.3 2006 Sbano * "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises 276 ing more. That break from intensity is important. The retreatant may not feel the need for a break, but spiritual directors can perceive from their vantage point that a break is essential for the person, especially if they have prayed with matters of great importance in their lives. In a few cases, individuals make the Spiritual Exercises on their own, meeting daily with their spiritual director. More commonly, individuals make their indi-vidual retreats in a group (at a spirituality center, as a class of Jesuit novices, and so on). Exercitants experi-ence repose days differently when they are alone or in a group. Those making their retreat on their own take a break from the usual prayer pattern, but they may or may not interact with others (such as the host commu-nity, their family, or their religious community). What is crucial is the pause from the intensity of the retreat. On the other hand, those making individual retreats within a group are ipso facto doing more than taking a pause. They are interacting with other retreatants, per-sons who are experiencing diverse spiritual movements. Whether intended or not, such repose days contribute to the good of community-building. Before the repose day, savvy directors ask retreatants not to compare retreat experiences during the repose day, but to restrict their communal conversation to "safe" topics: comical moments they had together, favorite or least favorite meals, the weather, and so forth. Inevitably, however, many make comparisons during that day. "Why is that young man so enthused and gung ho about his experi-ence? Why is that woman so serious and intense about hers? What's wrong with that man who seems so dour and sad? Why does that older man seem so self-assured and so clearly ahead of me?" Regardless of how many times the directors point out that there is no "ahead" or "behind" in the spiritual life (it operates on God's time!), Review for Religious retreatants, especially those in the midst of many interior movements, tend to quantify and measure their spiritual life. Competition in life is not always explicit; often it is beneath the surface. Hardly realizing it, retreatants may ask themselves, "Why am I so blas~ compared with that person's energy and zeal? Why am I so slow compared with that person's apparent pace? Thank God I'm not as disengaged as that person seems to be!" Competition readily occurs whether we recognize it, acknowledge it, give words to it, or not. A common date for a repose day for an entire group of retreatants results from the pace and structure of life today: the calendars of all the spirituality-center workers, all the directors, and all the retreatants and the desire to "make sure it all works out neatly." Whether the directors feel that their retreatants are ready for the repose day or not, the general pattern 6 n n[date or la repqye daY for an entire group of retre tants i r"esuits f orn pace ¯and stru tureoflife today. is to give them all a repose day together and then to work around the movements it causes or interferes with. For Ignatius, the spiritual life was marked by spiritual movements. Whether consolation or desolation or ambi-guity, there is movement. That movement requires dis-cernment. That is why he included so many rules for the discernment of spirits in his text, so many details that seem obsessive to the casual reader. Retreatants in a state of serious prayer are already shaped by movements and stirrings. On a repose day with other retreatants, they will inevitably "breathe in" other persons' movements, regard-less of their director's instructions. They have a way of being almost "allergic" to the movements of others. 65.3 2006 Stsano ¯ "Repose Days" during the I~natian Exercises 278i In twenty years of directing the Spiritual Exercises, I have rarely encountered an aware and prayerful per-son who returned from a repose day without being moved interiorly in some way. How do retreatants and their directors discern these movements? Many retreatants can acknowledge the movements and get back to the business of the retreat. Others get "hooked," whether on consolation or desolation. It may be a momentary enthusiasm or aggravation or, on the other hand, a movement that goes to the very heart of who the person is. A wise director needs to be attentive to this and find ways to deal with it head-on. One wants to ensure that the movement does not interfere with the significant movements that Ignatius is seeking in the discernment of the Second Week. Sometimes it is movement that is important to the per-son's prayer, for instance, an insight into a way of pro-ceeding in relationships. Sometimes it is an unhelpful distraction, taking the person "off course" with a con-versation about church or state politics. Many directors fail to ask enough questions about the repose day and its movements in people. They may say to themselves, "Well, both of us have had a good break and now we can move on to the Second Week," and fail to find any deeper meanings in it. Ignatius would want some probing, as he implies in the Sixth Annotation .when he urges directors to ask about the supposedly peripheral aspects of the day (§6). The day of r.epose may easily have caused the retreatant to go into a tailspin, one that could last for several days. Directors who are unsavvy may assume all kinds of reasons for the discouragement, tepidity, or lethargy. The reasons could be much closer to home. The movement could, indeed, reveal important aspects of how God is working with the person. It could also be a move-ment that distracts the person from the ways of God. Review for Religious Communal interaction is good, but, like any "good," it needs to be discerned. One can easily be deceived by its seeming goodness, but sometimes the movement on a repose day can be advantageous to a retreatant. The woman who was apathetic or tepid up till then may com-pare herself with others and realize that she has to get more serious about the spiritual life and her patterns of prayer. The man who was too intense and racing may real-ize that he needs to be more discreet, deliberate, and paced about his prayer. I refer to these movements as "the grace of the repose day." It can spur a tepid person or slow down a fast-paced person. But there can also be serious disad-vantages. What if the movement is artificial? What if the movement from the repose day interferes with movements that were already going on in a person's prayer? What, then, are some of the things that wise and cun-ning spiritual directors need to be aware of when they direct individuals of a group making a retreat, one that includes repose days that may come along at times that are inconvenient to their retreatants' natural movements? First and most essential is the need for discernment. Directors should not think that they are wasting their time, but that they are helping.the exercitant to appro-priate the repose day's meaning for their prayer. Many directors recommend, or even guide retreatants through, an examen of consciousness to discern exactly what the repose time included: life-giving or life-draining con-versations, feelings of gratitude or impatience, of hope or ennui. Quite often the fifth rule (§3 3 3) of the Rules for the Discernment of Spirits for the Second Week is men-tioned. There Ignatius has the retreatant look at the whole course of events pertaining to a spiritual move-ment-- the beginning, middle, and end. Perhaps the exercitant can be asked to read other Rules for Discernment as well. 65.3 2006 Sbano * "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises A second thing regarding a scheduled day of repose for the individuals of a group is that some individuals are ready for that repose day and some are not. If all make it, comparisons will be made regardless of directors' urging not to make them. Directors should ask them-selves, "Should this particular retreatant do the repose day or not? Considering where the person is, will a repose day help or hinder the movements he or she is experiencing?" We can easily be caught by "groupthink" and assume that a ~ o. ~ :' .~.'~ person should havea ,question ~ repose day simply " ~ because the calendar lists it for the conve-nient operation of the retreat center. The truly discerning question is whether or not the individual is ready for a breather. For the per-son who takes part in the repose day (or does not), what instructions should be given? I would recommend not giving the retreatant a repose day just because everyone else is doing it. Directors should ask, "Will this retreatant benefit from the repose day?" The Spiritual Exercises are for the retreatant. Retreatants should not have to bend to accommodate themselves to the schedule of the spirituality center or the team of directors. Third is the structure and length of the repose day. The early directories do not give the impression that there Was a full day of repose. Yet the increasingly common practice is to lengthen the day and perhaps forgo the daily direction period. Teams of directors need to ask carefully what they will suggest for the day. One retreat center's Web site says that a repose day is a good day for an out-ing to a local mall. The cynical mind would see this activ- The truly disce?nihg is whether ,or not the individual is ready for.a breather. 280 Review for Religious ity as giving the retreatant suitable prayer material for the Two Standards meditation coming in just a few days, as if retreatants do not have enough data already. Another director might wonder what a trip to a mall could offer someone who is praying for poverty and the Third Degree of Humility. The length of the day also requires team dis-cussion and discernment. What is the right length--for time to breathe but not go into a tailspin. The practice of repose days is often taken for granted. Directors and teams do not ask enough questions about it. The aim of this article has been to encourage ques-tioning. Notes ~ This note on "repose days" was inspired by three Jesuit novices whose retreat I directed. By their experiences, openness, and questions, Vincent Strand nSJ, Brian Rademacher nSJ, and Christopher Krall nSJ never stopped quietly calling me to move forward in faith. I offer them these words in gratitude. 2 Spiritual Exercises, §99. Unless noted, all quotations to the Exercises are from the translation by Louis J. Puhl SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1951). 3 George E. Ganss SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius: A Translation and Commentary (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1992), p. 159. 4 Puhl, p. 177. s Number 62 in "Directory of Juan.Alfonso de Polanco," in Martin E. Palmer SJ, On Giving the Spiritual Exercises: The Early Jesuit Manuscript Directories and the Official Directory of I Y99 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), p. 131. The Latin text is: "Peracta confessione generali, cum ulterius progrediendum est, ut respiret qui exercetur, meditatio de regno Christi ei proponetur, quae bis fiet, mane scilicet et vesperi; et pro illo die alia non proponantur; deinde sub vesperam Exercitium incar-nationis proponetur, postridie faciendum in aurora." 6 Number 81 in "Directory of Father Antonio Cordeses," in Palmer, p. 275. 7 Number 60 in "A Short Directory for Giving the Society's Exercises Effectively," in Palmer, p. 212. ~ Number 87 in "The Directory of Father Gil Gonz~ilez Dgvila," in Palmer, p. 250. 65.3 2OO6 Sbano * "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises 9 Number 140 in "The Official Directory of 1599," in Palmer, p. 318. 10 Marian Cowan CSJ and John Carroll Futrell SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola: A Handbook for Directors (Denver, Ministry Training Services, 1981), p. 69. 11 William A.M. Peters SJ, "The Kingdom: The Text of the Exercise," Way Supplement 18 (Spring 1973): 9. ~2 Peters, pp. 16 and 11. ~3 Peters, p. 13. 282] Tinsel in August Scraps of it, in the evening grass, Left over from last Christmas's tree Dragged by its stump to its shreddedness, Casting garlands and crowns on its path, Still catch moon-sparks - like the cat With tinsel eyes, going forth into night With glitter afoot from May's prom-party Dress, and June's wedding gown, that drifted Crystal and spangles over the family pets, Over carpeting, over dancers and through cracks In the house. Overhead now, the tinsel Of summer stars slowly shreds with the sullen Advance of thunder and sheet-tinsel garlanding Horizons far to the West. Cat-tag tinseling, Lucifur comes home wet from his tryst. Nancy G. Westerfield Review for Religious CHARLES P. FARRAR Gerard Manley Hopkins's "Lantern out of Doors": A Contemplative Response to Loss Seometimes the clearest way to describe an experi-nce is metaphorically. When an experience is unique and mysterious, we link it to something more common to make it more understandable. According to its Greek roots, metaphor means "to carry across." A well-conceived metaphor carries meaning across from one plane to another, thereby elevating the reader's con-sciousness. Metaphors have always been effective in the deft hands of writers of good spiritual theology: they suggest insights about God. The English Jesuit Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889) was a master of the spiritual metaphor. His poems' everyday images elevate readers' minds to fresh spiritual understandings. In the follow-ing sonnet a lantern conveys the experience of loss. Charles P. Farrar works as a hospital chaplain in Detroit. His address is 1930 Piper Drive, apt. 204; Rochester Hills, Michigan 48307. 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors 284, The Lantern out of Doors Sometimes a lantern moves along the night. That interests our eyes. And who goes there? I think; where from and bound, I wonder, where, With, all down darkness wide, his wading light? Men go by me whom either beauty bright In mould or mind or what not else makes rare: They rain against our much-thick and marsh air Rich beams, till death or distance buys them quite. Death or distance soon consumes them: wind V~at most I may eye after, be in at the end I cannot, and out of sight is out of mind. Christ minds: Christ's interest, what to avow or amend There, dyes them, heart wfnts, care hfunts, foot f611ows kfnd, Their rfnsom, their rescue, find first, ffst, last frMnd.1 The metaphor here, developing gradually through the two quatrains and the first tercet, is wonderfully subversive. What we think is a lyrical reflection about an ordinary event surprisingly turns out to be much more. The speaker leads us from a concrete observation (a nighttime lantern moving through the speaker's vision), to a more abstract observation about how the lives of beautiful people "go by" him until they disappear from view. What Hopkins is "carrying across" is the striking similarity between the way nighttime travelers pass by on the road and the way peo-ple come and go in our lives. But that is not all. In the last tercet he carries us to another plane of meaning, making a beautiful Christological statement: that Christ can do something which we cannot. He can keep up loving friendships with all those people whose departure from our lives had sad-dened us. This metaphor has carried us contemplatively from an everyday observation to--presto!--the healing of that sadness of ours. Review for Rdigious The first line and a half moves smoothly enough. Then we are jarred by "who goes there?" Suddenly the speaker becomes aware that the moving lantern implies a person. In lines 3 and 4 he drifts into a reverie about the whence and whither of the person "wading" like a lantern through a sea of darkness. All he knows of the person are the few moments of light present amid o.bscurity. The second stanza reflects on the beauty of certain people in the speaker's life, whether physical or internal beauty ("in mould or mind"). Such people are "bright" and "rare," like lanterns in the dark, like "rich beams" that "rain" against the "marsh air" of our mundane life. Notice how subjective this is. He is not primarily describ-ing the beauty in these people or the brightness in the lanterns. Rather he describes how these qualities affect him. (In this way Hopkins follows the tradition of Romantic poets like Wordsworth, Keats, and Rilke.) Consequently, when in line 8 these people leave the speaker's ken by "death or distance," they, for all intents and purposes, cease to exist. The word "quite" in line 8 seems to mean "completely." They disappear com-pletelyJhow tragic! The next tercet (lines 9-11) is a bit twisty to under-stand. And appropriately enough, for the action is the speaker's vain effort to keep these people in view as they go down a winding, twisting road. The Hopkins scholar Peter Milward says: "How eagerly soever he follows the winding steps of such men as they recede into the dark-ness, he cannot 'be in at the end'--that is, follow their subsequent history to its end.''2 The speaker concludes this thought with the clich6"out of sight is out of mind"--as though he is too numb emotionally to come up with a fresh phrase. We cannot help being struck by the loneliness of all this. The poem tells us nothing about these beautiful 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors The poem tells us nothi 2,861 lantern-like people. It does not reveal any empathy toward them; there is no relationship here. All that mat-ters is how the speaker feels: he sees them as "interesting," "beautiful," "bright," and "rare," and his seeing falls short. It seems he is psychologically trapped inside his own emotions. Notice how, for emphasis, Hopkins chimes the "I" sound three times in: "I about" thkse behut l may eye after, be in at the ¯ "~"~v~,~ia'tern*liv°'~a'i~ ~,,, end / I cannot." To find any happiness, he must be rescued from this solipsistic sighing. The rescue comes quickly in the last three lines. Simply by the sound of them, the reader senses that the speaker's mood has picked up. Thanks to Hopkins's "sprung rhythm," it all bursts to life sis-boom-bah. After lamenting that the beautiful persons disappear from his own mind, the speaker quickly adds that in Christ's mind they live on. Christ, too, is "interested" in those beauti-ful people, but his interest is objective, not subjective. He is interested, not in his feelings about them, but in their welfare. He never fails to "avow" all that is good in them, and he works to "amend" whatever they fail in. The words "~yes them, heart wfints, care hfiunts, foot f611ows kind" run together breathlessly,3 demonstrating an urgency of concern. This urgency, however, comes, not from last-ditch hopes groping in the darkness, but rather from the desire of Christ's heart. It comes from Christ's unconditional interest in them, not because of some particular beauty in them, but simply because of God's unfailing love for them. Christ can succeed where the speaker of the poem fails. His omniscient vision "eyes" all people without Review for Religious interruption. The speaker gladly acknowledges that from heaven our Lord gazes on them perpetually. And his "foot" can "follow" them without interference. This phrase "foot follows kind," incidentally, is a remarkable terse statement of the mystery of the incarnation. Thanks to the Son's taking on a human nature, he can "follow" us, as of one "kind" with him.4 As Hebrews puts it, "since the one who saves and those who are being saved have a common origin, Jesus does not hesitate to treat them as a family.''5 Being divine, Christ can follow us; with a human nature, he cannot help following us. From this, the sonnet's last line flows smoothly, both in its music and its logic. Being our "rescue" (the Messiah saves us from death) and our "ransom" (his sacrifice itself saves us), he has proven himself to be our "first, fast, last friend." Friendship is what the lantern-seeker yearns for but is denied. Abiding friendship, however, is precisely the promise which Christ fulfills.6 From the speaker's existential, self-absorbed lament about his unfulfilled affection for certain beautiful people, he arrives at a place of peace. His conviction that Christ's love for these peo-ple is complete, unlike his own, consoles him. One apparent weakness in the argument of this poem is that the conclusion seems to have been reached too facilely. It seems superficial or unreal that the speaker could assuage his sadness simply by calling Christ to mind. A study of Hopkins's life, however, suggests that the bur-den of this poem was likely learned and earned through a real personal struggle. One episode in his life shows how this sonnet may be somewhat autobiographical. In the winter of 1865, when he was a twenty-year-old Oxford student, he met a young man several years his junior named Digby Dolben. Dolben's cousin Robert Bridges appears to have asked Hopkins the favor of help-ing the younger man gain admission into Oxford. Dolben 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors was unforgettably vivacious and artistic. The two young men shared a passion for religion and poetry composi-tion. According to Hopkins's celebrated biographer Robert Bernard Martin, Dolben must have made a pow-erful impression on Hopkins's soul.7 His feelings, how-ever, were ambivalent: he relished this friendship, but also struggled with his desire to deepen it. When cir-cumstances required that Dolben move away later that same year, Hopkins was left feeling empty. When he learned of his friend's tragic drowning two years after-wards, he was devastated. Although Hopkins did not elaborate on these feel-ings in his letters or journals, there is a laconic journal entry from 1873: "I received as I think a great mercy about Dolben." This line was written immediately after a ten day spiritual retreat. It is remarkable that this per-son, with whom he had enjoyed communication only for a number of months, would be on his mind all these years later. It is more remarkable that the memory would surface as a consolation after a time of intense prayer. What had been going on in Hopkins's mind all this time? I believe the "Lantern out of Doors" provides a key. The connection between this episode and the sonnet-- albeit speculative--is compelling. Dolben's passing through Hopkins's life was much like the poem's lantern. In Hopkins's quiet and introverted life, Dolben's effer-vescent personality and artistic sensibilities must have been "rich beams" glinting in Hopkins's "marsh air." Moreover, Dolben's departure, first by "distance," then by "death," probably left him feeling much as the poem's first eleven lines leave us readers feeling. We can speculate that Hopkins tried to cope with this predicament psychologically. At this time he was embarking upon an earnest spiritual journey, one which would lead him first to become Catholic and then to join Review for Religious the Society of Jesus. It was a fertile time for him, spiri-tually and artistically. His journals and letters give ample evidence of a soul immersed in wonder and contempla-tion. Hopkins's Ignatian spiritual formation inspired him to seek God's presence in all things. Doubtless, his sad-ness about Digby Dolben entered into his contem-plative exercises. That journal entry referring to the mercy he received about Dolben was most likely a fruit of these devotions. The inspiration of the last three lines of the sonnet might, then, have flowed quite naturally. In a moment of contemplating Christ, the consolation mer-cifully came to him concerning Christ's invincible friend-ship with Dolben. If we could indulge in further conjecture about this sort of contemplation, it is reasonable to suppose that a key might be found in St. Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises. For Hopkins as a Jesuit, this text could have been foun-dational; any experience of consolation could well have been understood in its light. One teaching in the Exercises stands out. The fourth point of the Contemplation to Attain Divine Love instructs the exercitant "to consider how all blessings and gifts descend from above. My lim-ited power, for example, comes from the supreme and infinite power from above. In like manner, justice, good-ness, pity, mercy, etc., descend from above just as the rays from the sun, the waters from the spring, etc.''8 Here one is being directed from a consciousness of blessings and gifts toward a contemplation of the God from whom they descend. It is plausible to imagine the 65.3 2006 Farrar * Lantern out of Doors 290 young Hopkins--still staggered by the radiant gifts that Dolben had brought into his life--in an effort to come to terms with his loss, contemplating the infinite power of Christ, who made these gifts shine through his late friend. And would this not have inspired Hopkins to trust that Christ's light will continue to shine upon and through Dolben for all eternity. Whether Hopkins can see it or not, he can still experience the healing which comes from the conviction that his friend is in very good hands. As Peter Milward elegantly puts it, "the last word 'friend' emphasizes the truth that the 'lantern out of doors' has its end in the love of Christ.''9 Perhaps many of us have had similar struggles and breakthroughs. I, for one, am constantly reminded of feelings of attraction toward the lantern-like people in my life: and also of the helpless sadness of separation. One example comes to mind, which arose out of my work as a hospital chaplain. I responded to a patient's request to visit him. Let us call him John. We enjoyed a rich conversation, about an hour long, about his spiritual his-tory, his family, his hopes for the future, and the mean-ing of life in general. It was the same the next two days. These visits were very fulfilling for me. It was no trou-ble for me to squeeze my schedule to find time for John. On the fourth day, to my surprise, the bed was empty. I discovered he had been discharged just a short time ago. A flood of questions came to mind: What did this mean? Was he feeling better? Why didn't he tell me he was leaving? This last question vexed me most. Like the sonnet's lantern-watcher, my thoughts were more on my letdown than on John's welfare. I felt guilty about that. I also felt guilty about getting so close to a patient. I remembered the hoary old adage of Clinical Pastoral Education: "Be careful about letting the ministry be a satisfaction for your personal needs." Review for Religious But why should I deny the good feelings that these visits with John had given me? They made me feel valu-able as a chaplain, and I wanted more. Like Hopkins contrasting the "much-thick and marsh air" of his mun-dane life with the "rich beams" some people's lives send forth, I wanted to feel that light. It helped me feel com-petent and useful. It gave my ministry an emphatic sense of purpose. I felt connected with this patient and wanted to connect some more. Then, like a lantern in the night, he was gone. I wish I could say that I rebounded immediately and arrived at a profound conviction akin to the insight of the last tercet in Hopkins's sonnet. But to this day I still feel some emptiness about John. As I later spoke with a friend about this, I realized how much emptiness there is in my heart about the many interesting people who have passed into and then out of my life. While I may not have "gotten over" the various sorts of grief occasioned by these losses, I often experience moments of consola-tion about them. I will find myself in the Liturgy, in prayer, in a conversation with someone, or reading, for instance, when some kind of assurance mysteriously comes. It is a consoling belief that Christ is watching over all God's children, that somehow they are all safe in his care. My attempts to analyze or describe these moments of consolation invariably, end in futility. What I can say is that they give me peace. I suppose what hap-pens is that my attention graciously moves from my own self-centered emptiness about the loss to a contemplation of where these individuals are in Christ's perspective, that is to say, watched over, loved, cared for by him. They are welcomed into friendship by their "first, fast, last friend." There are manifold ways to deal therapeutically with loss. Books teaching cognitive techniques consistently 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors find their place on bestseller lists. Granting the effec-tiveness of these techniques, I hope that believers will also consider the simple insight offered by this lovely poem. I hope we will forever keep our hearts open to seeing that those who have journeyed beyond our eye-sight remain within our Savior's. And there is a consol-ing corollary, that Christ watches my lantern too. Notes 1 Norman H. MacKenzie, ed., The Poetical Works of Gerard Manley Hopkins (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992), no. 113, p. 40. 2 Peter Milward, A Commentary on the Sonnets of G.M Hopkins (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1985), p. 62. 3 This effect is aided by the fact, as Milward (p. 63) observes, that the accents are on the verbs. 4 "Kind" has a double meaning here, nature and benevolence. These meanings are especially lovely in contrast to the rhymes (1) "mind" in the phrase "out of mind" and (2) "wind," the speaker's futile visual pursuit of the lanterns' apparent windings. The suggestion in the word "kind" is that the remedy for the speaker's sadness is that Christ is of a kind with us and is kind as well. s Hebrews 2:11, from Eugene H. Peterson, trans., The New Testament in Contemporary Language (Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2002). 6 See John 15:13-15. 7 Robert B. Martin, Gerard Manley Hopkins:/1 Very Private Life (London: Harper, 1991), pp. 80-170. 8 The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, trans. Anthony Mottola (New York: Doubleday, 1964), p. 104. 9 Milward, Commentary, p. 63. Review for Religious RAYMOND R. RYAN Today's Candidates: Who Are They, What Do They Expect? Occasionally, as I try to explain to interested questioners what is going on in the novitiate, their eyes glaze over and I hear them internal-izing W.C. Fields's famous comment, "There's less here than meets the eye." Actually there is much more here than meets the eye. Formation today is dynamic, not static; not only for "them," but also for "us." Otherwise it is only a game, a series of hoops to be jumped through with blithe disregard for the future. Concern for that future, however, has prompted a great deal of research on the char-acteristics of today's candidates for religious life and priesthood. Perhaps a few findings from that research will help us better understand our new-comers, our novices. The fall 2004 issue of Touchstone, the official publication of the Raymond R. Ryan OSA, a former novice director, writes from the Augustinian Provincialate; 20300 Governors Highway; Olympia Fields, Illinois 60461. being religious 65.3 2006 Ryan * Today's Candidates ConversiOff iS ctnii iuou s through: initia[ a nd formation, and.it n ver s opS.i National Federation of Priests' Councils, features an arti-cle by Dominican Andrew Carl Wisdom: "Why Every Generation Matters in Preaching." He indicates that every congregation is made up of four or five distinct commu-nities: Builders (1901.-1924), Silent Generation (1925- 1942), Baby Boomers (1943-1964), Generation X (1964-1981), and Millennials (1981-present). He chal-lenges preachers to be aware of this intergenerational phe-nomenon and address homilies to each generation. It is not uncommon for a novitiate class or a postnovitiate for-mation community to have three generations represented. One of those younger men puts it this way: "I am not simply in formation, but in a real sense in re-for-mation. I am already someone with a full life, commitments, and deeply held con-victions. I don't know that the order is all that ready for people like me." Another, reflecting on his for-mation experience, remarks: "It is understood that we all have faults and reach various levels of maturity dur-ing different stages of our li~'es. However, it is of par-ticular concern when . . . one who has a reasonable, relatively healthy sense of self is now in formation with others who are considerably younger or much older, or have not yet resolved such pressing identity issues as their own sexuality. A formation team must be equipped to recognize and address such disparities within a for-mation community, rather than treat everyone with a one-size-fits-all approach." These observations make us aware that formation today is quite a venture. The two brothers quoted had Review for Religious good insights. One looks for re-formation. For the other, one-size-fits-all formation can be deformation. Obviously, intergenerational living with various levels of maturity and immaturity not only is a challenge, but can be a heavy cross. We who are supposedly "formed" can attest to how adult immaturity adversely affects our communal life. Before mentioning some formation components as they relate to today's candidates, I quote Msgr. Dennis Sheehan, senior Catholic chaplain at Harvard University, regarding some current candidates: Today's seminarian is older and more experienced . My fear is that at times we will form a priest accord-ing to all the directives and requirements. But, if he has not tracked that with the ongoing conversion of his intellectual, moral, and religious life, we are likely to find a formed priest who is only a partial Christian. ¯ . In this generation, when so many come to us chronologically and psychologically older, it is far more difficult to change basic assumptions. They will learn the Scriptures and theology and pass examina-tions . . . but then what? Often enough they can become a canonical enforcer. The collaborative can-didate becomes a clerical Caesar. (Seminary Journal, fall 2004) While Msgr. Sheehan is concerned with priesthood can-didates, his observation can also apply to candidates for religious life. His concern is that both initial and con-tinuing formation be considered matters of unending conversion, a quite Augustinian outlook. Life is a con-tinuing call to change and grow. Conversion, then, is continuous through initial and continuing formation and it never stops. For this reason, today's formation programs have both a strong programmatic component, which presents the elements of Catholic, Christian, and Augustinian (or Benedictine, Franciscan, and so forth) spirituality, and a 65.3 2006 Ryan ¯ Today's Candidates 296 personal/communal component. The latter has four interconnected goals, asking each candidate to: ¯ know himself and his stow; ¯ commit to building and sustaining healthy intimacy in his life; ¯ learn, or continue to learn, and understand that integration is a lifelong process. The gospel calls us to work at continuing conversion and to invite others into that lifelong and life-giving call from the Lord; ¯ allow himself to live in the tensions encountered, accepting that these are a part of integration. We cannot always reconcile tensions or "fix" things. God's presence is experienced just as surely in darkness as in light. The practice of solitude brings perspective, sometimes peace, but always a centering in Jesus, self, and others in our actual circumstances. These goals are spelled out more concretely in some of the following ways. Candidates have spiritual directors at all levels of initial formation. Directors meet those in formation monthly. The history and continuing stoW of God's call is a part of these discussions. When I was in a peer supervision group while novice director, our facil-itator, a Dominican sister with age, wisdom, and grace asked us, usually at a time of conflict or self-doubt, "And what's going on in you right now as you relate your stow?" I did not like the question, even after four and a half years in the group. Why? Because it forced me to clarify what I did not want to face or did not want to integrate into my life. Indeed, sharing ourselves brings deeper self-knowledge and a deeper realization that, the more personal the problem, the more universal it is. Formation today, along with the previously men-tioned personal elements, encourages the communal dimension, in ways perhaps strange or at least fleetingly uncomfortable to some. The "climate check," which we Review for Religious in our province used, is helpful. It is a simple statement of some truth about ourselves, our families, and our lives; it helps us "tune in" to each other--or perhaps find our-selves "on the same page," discovering a commonality of experiences. When community members suffer from misunderstandings or hurts, they are encouraged to meet together. One-on-ones, especially in conflict situations, can help them work through interpersonal difficulties. Sometimes things do not work out as hoped; that can be helpful too. We can ask what this tells us about each other and ourselves: "What's going on in us right now?" Postnovitiate formation invites all of the community members to attend house chapters and community meet-ings-- our more formal community structures. These can effectively introduce newer members into our time-hon-ored ways of being together. Contemporary Augustinian formation encourages personal and communal sharing. This is done not because psychologists have invaded our mid