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Issue 56.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1997. ; for ,relig i 'ous Christian Heritages and Contemporau Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 1997 ¯ VOLUME 56 ¯ NUMBER 5 " Review for R~ligious is a forum for shared refleaibn _on the lived experienc.e of all who find that ttfe church's rich heritages of spi#ituality support their personal and apostolff Christian lives. Tbe articles~ in the journal are meant to bb informativb,,L . practical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point,of vie~. Review for Religious (1SSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religiou~ ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, I\~N 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1997 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 ihe source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Fopp'e Tracy Gramm Jean Read James ain,t Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Jo~l Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia W]ttberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 1997 ¯ VOLUME 56 ¯ NUMBER 5 contents consecrated life 454 468 Contemporary Religious Leadership Howard Gray SJ focuses on three tasks of a contemporary religious leader: to design strategies that further the kingdom of God, to implement those designs through existing ministries, and to do this in the compassion of Christ's cross. Continuing Formation: Perspectives from I~ta Consecrata Joel C-iallanza csc explains Vita consecrata's treatment of continuing formation in terms of pertinent basic principles, its necessity throughout religious life, and the dimensions through which it engages the whole person. 478 methodology Tracing the Vincentian Family Tree Betty Ann McNeil DC sketches out an example of international research on kinship within the Vincentian tradition, thereby providing information for mission and fostering creative collaboration. 491 From Parchment to Cyberspace: New Technologies Can Serve Charisms John Freund CM explores the communication world of the Internet and the World Wide Web, especially in view of their evangelizing potential. Review for Religious 503 heritages Angela Merici: Ursuline Mother and Valiant Woman Frances M. Biscoglio brings us into the wonder of the life and legacy of Angela Merici. 511 "The Beautiful Acarie" 525 Robert P. Maloney CM enters us into the story of Madame Acarie, the central figure in a great spiritual renewal in 17th-century Paris. Ninian's Whithorn: A Time-and-Place Pilgrimage David Douglas shares reflections from a pilgrimage to St. Ninian's first monastic settlement in what is now Scotland. 533 542 spiritual life What Is Spirituality? Carla Mae Streeter OP presents an understanding of spirituality that reveals the Holy already in our midst and calls us to full human response. Being Saved by Beauty Melannie Svoboda SND helps us appreciate the role of beauty in Jesus' life with God and its role in our own life and ministry. departments 452 Prisms 547 Canonical Counsel: Habit and Habitus: Brief History 553 Book Reviews September-October 1997 prisms ~hat centers our life determines 'the kind of balance it has. Sometimes we become aware of that cente? during a quiet prayerful retreat. Perhaps a crisis--the death of someone close to us, a reversal in our own health, a failure in a project, or confusion about future directions--makes us face the question of what centers our lives. True, Jesus Christ is the center of all Christian living. But perhaps we men and women religious should take stock of our experience of Jesus' centrality to consecrated life. We find it in our every celebration of the Eucharist, with Jesus as the center in both Word and Sacrament. We may also find that central Presence in a particular com-munity or an outstanding leader or a special project that helps focus our faith life. Yet such a group or individual or work can also obscure what is central to our faith. Perhaps, through no fault of the community or the person or the project, our attention s.tops at the immediate incarnation of faith in front of us, and these very instruments of grace block out rather than bring us in touch with Jesus Christ. We have heard sad tales of some priest-confessor so antag-onizing a penitent, somehow, that the person leaves the confessional in a huff and refuses to actively practice the faith. The person's focus has become fixated on the lim-ited incarnation that each individual~priest (or Christian or institution) represents. What ChriStians take for granted in theory--that Jesus is the center of their faith--can eas-ily be disrupted in practice, amid the trials of living their faith. With the dearth of vocations to the consecrated life within western Europe and North America today, vocation promoters remind us anew that we limited incarnations of Christ have an important role to play in stirring up and inspiring people to thas kind of special followang. Still the .l Review for Religious ~; call remains Christ's, and the focus of our vocation is not just one of us nor our community nor our work; the focus is Jesus whom we image imperfectly at best. In our own call, we can distinguish various influences, but their collect~e focus is always Jesus. Our individual crises--like all Christian crises--usually include a loss of our central focus. Again it is individual people, particular com-munities, and even pet projects that can sometimes stand in the way of our deepening relationship with Jesus. Yes, it is easy to acknowledge that Jesus is the center of consecrated life--in the-ory! But in our living of this relationship we often find moments of doubt, confusion, and even anger. Not.only do we experience at times an obscuring of the cen-trality of Jesus in our personal vocation stories, but we also obfus-cate the theology of consecrated life by a similar failing. Some contemporary studies about consecrated life have little to say about the future of this lifeform because they take no account of its central focus. Without that focus, consedrated life obviously has elements that will be out of balance. As we read some present-day books about religious life's future or as we get involved in various workshops, we need to ask ourselves: What centers consecrated life in this way of presenting it? The Jesus who is the center of our personal vocation and who is the center of consecrated life calls for a love relationship. We cannot relate to this Jesus as an abstract concept such as Wisdom, biblically authentic as its personification is. We cannot~ identify this Jesus with good actions which we perform in our rehg~ous mission: Jesus is more than some category of virtue enhancing human behavior. True, Jesus identifies with each person we serve or who serves us, but Jesus has his own identity and his own way of lov-ing and of being loved. Jesus in our lives calls forth from us and from our religious congregation the awed response of love he called.forth from Thomas: "My Lord and my God!" The mis-sion of our congregation is not identified with making this world a better place to live; our mission as consecrated people is so related to the Jesus of the Gospels that together we make present the actions of Christ. Because of the goodness of a real relation-ship with Jesus, both as individuals and as congregations, we expe-rience that Jesus is the center of our consecrated life, the center of our life-in-mission. David L. Fleming SJ September-October 1997 consecrated life HOWARD GRAY Contemporary Religious Leadership Harry Truman said, "A leader is a man who has the abil-ity to get other people to do what they don't want to do and like it," ' If there is any accuracy or wisdom in this reflection, then the most effective leader in our lives is the Holy Spirit. Presumably the members of CMSM believe that for better or for worse God's Spirit had a major role in their selection as a community leader. V~-hether you like being in that position or not, you ought to be asking for consolation, asking for the gift of the Spirit to find some genuine light and, yes, even happiness in the fact that you are someone God has elected to lead. I want to explore this fundamental reality of election and then develop what this call to leadership means for your service in our church and in our contemporary society. First, to be religious is to be called, to be obedient to the initiative that God uses to ask us to do something for the sake of the kingdom? Second, the mastery of God over the enterprise is both a comfort and a challenge. It is a comfort because God bears the ultimate responsibility for the works we do and the people we serve. It is a chal-lenge because we are partners with the divine, co-laborers who shoulder a bit of the divine burden. Third, we are Howard Gray SJ presented this article, here somewhat edited, as a talk on 8 August 1997 to the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM) at their annual assembly, titled this year "Called by Jesus: Free to Lead" and held in San Diego, California. His address is Jesuit Institute; Boston College; Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts 02167. Review for Religious. trying to be good stewards in a time of internal community declines, ecclesial tensions, and exploding apostolic possibilities. Charles Morris, in his recent study American Catholics, puts it this way: The problems the church is facing are of exquisite subtlety. ¯. Traditionalists may yearn for the old Catholic docility, but ¯. the young people who are most informed about their reli-gion- recent Catholic college graduates--are also among the most committed to the church and among the least disposed to accept the rote dictates of authority. The problems lie within the institution itself. The root problem is the vision or lack of vision--or superfluity of visions--of what the church is and how it should carry out its mission and who should do it. The awkward revi-sioning of the church that has been taking place over the last thirty years sweeps up questions of authority, of sexuality, of gender, of orthodoxy in matters great and small, and sets bishops and theologians at one another's throats) You and I do not have to buy all of Morris's conclusions or his rhetoric, but the kind of concern he voices is real and hardly idiosyncratic. To be summoned, as you are, to temporary official leadership within the church and within this culture is to accept an anomalous role. You are not bishops nor part of the diocesan curia; but you do have authority, responsibility, and opportunity to effect the mission of the church within a diocese or within many dioceses. You work intimately with members of your com-munity and with the lay colleagues who partner your apostolates, but you also assess the effectiveness of their labor against the obligation you have to foster the overall mission of your larger community. And you have to do all this while being prophetic yet managerial, spiritual yet financially astute, sympathetic towards human weakness yet known for your "tough love." You also have to be theologically literate, informed about justice issues but socially nimble with benefactors, a man of prayer, graceful in pub-lic liturgies, and yet able to offer creative ways for your commu-nity to enter into the new millennium. You have every right to feel defenseless against this army of expectations. And anyone who dares to speak to you about reli-gious leadership has to share your feelings. No one has the final answer except God. This conviction demands a terrible asceti-cism. You and I live "in the meantime," .in tha~ period of waiting for answers along the way, for directions towards the kingdom, for ways to find God but within this world and within these prob- September-October 1997 Gray * Contemporary Religious Leadership lems and opportunities. As partners of the divine, we move with a God we do not always see and cannot always find. The answers we try to form and the directions we try to give come out of our prayer and study, our consultations and our traditions. Consequently, our answers and our directions bear the all-too-human stamp of our limitations and our projections. And yet you and I must return to that radical religious conviction that God has called us to leadership for the good of God's people and the furthering of the kingdom. For all these reasons, then, I.want to emphasize the religious character of your lea~dership and to suggest what religious lead-ership might mean for the church and culture of today. A Metaphor for Our Reflections: Head and Hands and Heart Among other questions, I had to ask where I myself found direction towards understanding religious leadership. Certainly, the example of older, effective leaders helped, as did the rich' store of material on leadership theory in business, education, and health services.41 was drawn, finally, to a moment in my own life that helped me to realize what the essential elements in religious lead-ership are. ,. As a young priest I was assigned to preach a summer retreat to a large assembly of religious women. Their community was involved in a variety of ministries, with commitments in the United States and throughout East Asia. The retreat was held at the motherhouse, which included the community infirmary and retirement center. Early in the retreat I struck up a friendship with a sister in the infirmary who was dying of multiple sclerosis. She had been a giant within the community, one of the first to attend a prestigious secular university and to obtain a doctorate in economics. Although she had great promise as a scholar and teacher, she was put into administration and became the presi-dent of one of the colleges sponsore'd by her m:der. As president she led the school through a series of financial campaigns that added buildings and .stature to the institution. Then she was diag-nosed as having M.S., and the disease moved quickly through her nervous system. When I met her, she was totally confined to bed. She was wonderful to talk with--insightful, witty, without an ounce of Review for Religious self-pity. When on the last day of the retreat I went to say good-bye to her, she said something like this: "Father, yon are a young man and I am an old and dying woman, so we are both in the rigfit position for advice. When I was a young nun, I thought it was important to give God my head, so I studied hard and won my way to the university and to doctoral studies. I saw scholarship as my way to God. But then, after a few years, my community had other needs. I was put into university adminis-tration and became the president of the college. Then I thought that what God really wanted was my hands, my ability to accomplish great things for the college, to build up this institution. Now here I am. I struggle to remember, and I cannot hold a glass of water. Now I realize as never before that what God has wanted all along is my heart. Give God your head and your hands, but bring your heart along with them." Sister died about a month later, but her words have lived within me. The head, hands, and heart symbol.i, ze what we "do" as religious leaders. While ydh have specific works in line with the charisms 9f your community and devel-opments within its ministries, what you oversee as provincials or council members is your com-munity's entire mission. It is this mission that primarily engages your leadership, and it is this mission that determines the char-acteristics your leadership needs. The answers we try to form and the directions we try to give come out of our prayer and study, our consultations and our traditions. Mission of the Intellect In 1990 Robert Bellah delivered an incisive address to the bishops of the United States gathered in special assembly at Santa Clara University. In that address he traced the influence of John Locke in the formation of the North American ethos: "It is remarkable how much of our current understanding of social real-. ity flows from the .original institutionalization at the end of the 18th century (the 'founding') and how much of that was depen-dent on the thought of John Locke. Locke's teaching is one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful, ideologies ever invented. Indeed, it is proving to .be more enduring and influen-tial, which is not to say truer, than Marxism. It promises an Septentber-October 1997 Gray ¯ Contemporary Religious Leadership unheard-of degree of individual freedom, an unlimited opportu-nity to compete for material well-being, and an unprecedented limitation on the arbitrary powers of government to interfere with individual initiative . [The Lockean myth] rejects all lim-its on the freedom and autonomy of individuals other than those they freely consent to in entering the (quite limited) social con-tract . Limited government exists to provide a minimum of order for individuals to accumulate property.''5 This social contract, Bellah points out, is essentially at odds ~ith the biblical notion of covenant, a relationship between God and people, between Creator and creature, founded on loyalty and trust. The covenant relationship transcends self-interest and entails obligations to God and to the neighbor. The social contract is also radically at odds with the Pauline understanding of the Body of Christ; Christian freedom is radically different from Lockean freedom. The Lockean notion of contract, Bellah says, affects not only the economic and political spheres, but also our understanding of all human relations, including the family and church. This exaggerated individualism permeates the culture in which the church proclaims the gospel and the call of the kingdom. "The teaching role of the church," Bellah continues, "is placed under a considerable strain, and tact and prudence are certainly neces-sary. It seems to me the first problem is at the same time theo-logical and sociological: how to communicate the deep social realism of biblical religion to an individualistic culture.''6 Bellah carefully calls the bishops to teach within the Body of Christ, that is, with recognition of the various gifts that are there to be consulted within the church's membership, but also to rep-resent the authority that transcends individual consent, namely, the authority of God. Bellah says, "I hope you have the courage to be what you are as authentically as you understand what that is and are not too intimidated by the confusions of our culture [and] do not fall back too readily on our central cultural stereotypes of leadership--the manager and the therapist. For if we are to demonstrate what the church is as a community based on unlimited loyalty in a covenant and membership in the same body, we must all, with the. grace of God, fulfill the particular gifts with which we have been entrusted to the best of our ability. You have indeed been pas-tors, prophets, and leaders in this society in a way that does Review for Religious demonstrate what the people of God is.''7 I have quoted Bellah extensively because his words to the U.S. bishops seven years ago continue to have relevance for your mis-sion of religious leadership. The challenges Bellah presented to the bishops are also yours, and these challenges shape your mis-sion today. You do not share the power of bishops, but you do share in many of the same areas of apostolic and ministerial responsibility. As leaders within your communities and as mem-bers of the CMSM, you have a voice that offers direction to God's people who are bound by your charisms and united in your mis-sion. The traditions that founded your schools, parishes, social centers, seminaries, and international missions will not be kept alive through some osmotic process. The education of your apos-tolic colleagues into the charisms and traditions of your religious families must be done with the tact and prudence Bellah recom-mended to the U. S. bishops. Indeed, this may be your most important intellectual work in the years ahead. I realize that this process of communicating the charism that founded our works is well underway in many communities and in the institutions and works they sponsor. My emphasis is that this task be seen as one of the most important ministries for you to carry out in your positions of leadership. I add that this min-istry is not simply a matter of exhortation. It calls for a strategy of communication, integration, and leadership training. By communication I mean that faculty and staff, for exam-ple, ought to know as much about the religious tradition of their institutions or apostolates as they do about their health insur-ance. The communication, then, has to be attractive, accurate, and enduring. By integration I mean that there has to be a pro-gram whereby all faculty and staff members able and willing to do so can take the spirituality of your charism and use it to bring greater harmony and meaning into their private and professional lives. By leadership training I mean providing formation for a probably much smaller number of faculty and staff members who are able and willing to take responsibility for the future commu-nication and integration of the tradition. This aspect of your min-istry of leadership involves more than conveying information and a sense of the relevant history and tradition. It involves--I want to emphasize this--planning some processes that help make it all happen. That is why I include it as an aspect of the mission of those in leadership positions. Septetnber-October 1997 Gray ¯ Contemporary Religious Leadership As religious leaders you have to see the ways in which evangelization permeates all your works. j Besides the formation of lay apostolic colleagues, I want to underscore two other specifications of your leadership ministry. First, there is the support that you give to scholarship within your communities. Within the church the great heritage of religious communities is that they have both carried traditions forward and illustrated their significance for present ages and cultures. I speak not only about formal theological scholarship, but also about the whole array of scholarly work that sustains a dialogue of faith with a culture of disbelief. There is so much pressure to fill admin-istrative lacunae that we may panic and see studies only as a means to give people the credentials they need to fill those lacunae. Your scholars need to be free to develop as scholars who share actively in con-temporary intellectual dialogue. They need to know that they can count on your support in moments of difficulty and misrepresentation. They need to know that in your eyes fidelity and risk have to go together. Second, as religious leaders you hav~.to see the ways in which evangelization permeates all your works. By evangelization I mean making the gospel and the tradition intelligible and applicable. A wonderful history surrounds reli-gious- life ministry. Our community life locates the reality of the body of Christ within the human family. Our ministries are not restricted to the faithful, but move by design to those who feel that the gospel has no mean-ing for them or who have become convinced that they are outside salvation. Frequently our works are spiritual and corporal works of mercy precisely because they are not tied to conventional reli-gious symbols or rhetoric.8 The mission of the intellect, the planning that creates reli-gious centering within a culture often resolutely antireligious, does not rely on numbers, but on being a presence that under-stands both the mission appropriate to your charism and the cre-ative evolution the mission can take. This aspect of your leadership presumes a formation program that teaches your new members consultation and teamwork. It is a mission that links the king-dom to contemporary culture, that incorporates your lay col-leagues into your charisms, and that gives your scholars the freedom they need to unpack the significance of revelation for Review for Relig~olts our culture so that, finding energy in the gospel thus revisited, they can also translate it into terms our culture can understand. Mission of Implementation Closely allied to the leadership task of designing the work of the kingdom is the oversight you give to implementing that design, to making the projects work. The diminishing number of active religious has occasioned withdrawal from some traditional ministries, the transfer of leadership positions within traditional ministries to lay people, and the creation of new apostolic bonds. Examples of such bonds are the merging of community apostolates at the University of Detroit Mercy, where two communities (the Sisters of Mercy and the Society of Jesus) brought their two insti-tutions of higher education into one, and the efforts in many places to incorporate associate members into the work and life of the established religious community. In other words, things have already been done to meet the immediate demands for the reconfiguration of our works. What I want to focus on, however, is what implementation might mean within the threefold mission of lay formation, support for our scholars, and pervasive evange-lization. As leaders within your communities, you know how crucial it is that the lay personnel who now embody the ethos of your com-munity- sponsored works be somehow engaged by the religious vision and traditions that founded your institutions, apostolates, and centers. You also know that some who join our works will never'incorporate our sense of mission. Frequently those who are involved in retaining and developing a tradition--call them vice presidents for mission effectiveness or mission coordinators or the office of spiritual development--describe their task as creat-ing "a critical mass" of persons who buy into the tradition and mission of the sponsoring religious community. You lead within an apostolic reality that feels the constant pressure of competing philosophies and theologies. Moreover, when we speak of incor-porating capable and willing lay colleagues into our religious vision and traditions, we have to encourage two movements: (1) the ongoing development of lay ministry within the wider church and (2) the participation of lay men and women in our specific apostolates. I have already indicated what lay formation could entail (that is, communication, integration, and training in how to September-October 1997 Gray ¯ Contemporary Religious Leadership pass on the community tradition to others). What I want to insist on here is that the task of implementation--your role as a com-munity leader--is to encourage and to authenticate the appro-priation of your charisms by lay people. However, if this implementation is to be effective, then it means support, not imposition; guidance, not censorship; trust, not fear or suspicion. Lay participation in your community charism also implies that it will be adapted and modified and will assume new symbols as your lay apostolic partners make it their own. For, unless there is cultural assimilation of your charism, there will be no appropri-ation of your charism. Granted the need for authenticity in living a charism, there also has to be willingness to let the charism reshape itself through lay experiences. All this calls for a new style of leadership and a creative approach to implementation. One religious community put it this way: The Society of Jesus places itself at the service of the mis-sion of the laity by offering what we are and what we have received: our spiritual and apostolic inheritance, our edu-cational resources, and our friendship. We offer Ignatian spirituality as a specific gift to animate the ministry of the laity. This spirituality respects the unique spirituality of the individual and adapts itself to present needs; it helps persons to discern their call and "in all things to love and serve the Divine Majesty." We offer to the laity the practical wisdom we have learned from more than four centuries of apostolic experience. Through our schools, universities, and other educational programs we make pastoral and theological training available. Perhaps most important, we join with them in companionship: serving together, learning from ¯ and responding to each other's concerns and initiatives, dia-loguing with one another on apostolic objectives? I cite this not as a paradigm, but simply as an instance of what I mean by your role as an implementer of lay formation through your respective charisms. You implement when you articulate your community's mission and charism, designate your priorities, and support the people who can make it happen on the local level. Concerning the support of scholarship within your aposto-lates, let me offer three suggestions. First, incorporate your schol-ars into your community's life and thought. Second, bring your scholars together to help you sort out and approach particular pastoral and ecclesial problems. Third, sponsor opportunities for scholars within your ministries to talk together about how faith and culture intersect today, where there are tensions, and how Review for Religious scholarship could help the church in the United States to respond more effectively to a whole array of cultural and social problems. Your initiative towards the scholarly community is the best imple-mentation. Your public support creates a climate of conversation badly needed in our church and in civil society. Your participation in the concerns and ambitions of the scholarly community gives witness to your community's willingness to learn God's wisdom in a privileged place for doing so and to respond in the light of that wisdom. You accomplish this precisely because you are the leader ofyour community, the bearer of its corporate presence, and the formal representative of its concerns. Finally, in the third overarching, apostolic concern, that of evangelization, I want to specify one major contribution you can make. You can represent your community's willingness to bond with those who most want to share in and to count on the justice promised in God's kingdom. The faith of the gospel means little if it is not accompanied by the justice of the gospel. The eco-nomically poor, the marginal within our civil society and within our church, and the alienated have a particular purchase on the gospel. It was for such as these that Jesus came. To sustain that call before your religious brothers is an important part of imple-menting the call to evangelize. To make sure that this dimension of the gospel is part of every lay formation program is essential to forming people's Christian identity. To acknowledge and reverence the mutual concerns that bind you to the poor, the marginal, and the alienated shows that you know the importance of listening and learning before trying to help. More profoundly, it means that you take the lead in showing that the greatest gift people can give you is their weakness and struggle and pain and anger because these, in turn, shape the reality and sincerity of your willingness to imitate the One who is the reason we have a gospel. In meet-ing those who need Christ, we find Christ. Mission of the Heart When we talk about the religious Significance of the heart, we mean that which "symbolizes the center or core of the human person . . . the locus not only of our affectivity but also of our freedom and consciousness, the place where we accept or reject the mystery of ourselves, human existence, and God. [the per-son's] sacred space."~° As religious leaders you are called preem- September-October 1997 Gray * Contemporary Religious Leadership inently to be men of heart, providing vision for your brothers to follow, extending mercy and care when they have stumbled and fallen, confronting them when they have wandered, encouraging them when they are overwhelmed and fatigued with the journey. You have been called to a rare and lovely ministry that sustains the hospitality of the risen Christ on the road to Emmaus. I want to talk about that aspect of your mission, emphasizing that there is no Emmaus without the cross, that it is important that religious leadership be exerted under the sign of the cross. The Christ of Emmaus could speak to the heart of the two disciples so trapped in their own expectations and so locked in their own disappointments because his heart, too, had been opened, his faith had been tested, his hope had been challenged, his love had been broken. The wisdom of his compassion for the two disciples was not only the revelation of divine wisdom; it was also the expression of the hard-earned solidarity of his human brotherhood with them. Jesus knew that there cguld be no Emmaus without the cross. The ethicist David Hollenbach has linked the Catholic uni-versity's search for meaning to the need to establish the continued possibility of a Christian humanism. In promoting a Christian . humanism, Hollenbach reasons, we must face the harshness of contemporary evil--the wars and violence, the homeless and refugees, the children without parents and the parents who kill their own babies, the poor and the hungry, the illiterate and emo-tionally disturbed, those who suffer AIDS and those who have lost their families and friends to AIDS. Genuine Christian human-ism, then. demands a return to the cross as "the sign through which Christians proclaim that the ultimate mystery that sur-rounds our lives embraces human suffering and shares human misery. The cross uncovers the central meaning of this mystery as compassion and divine mercy."ll Your leadership has to find its way to the cross and from the cross; that is, you lead in the likeness of the One who called you and whose kingdom you represent. The risen Christ of Emmaus brings consolation to the two disciples and later to the rest of that frightened community, not by denying the cross, but by explaining the cross, by linking it to the long-cherished hopes that God would be with God's people. In uniting his passion and death to the glory of those touched by God, Jesus took a symbol that was repulsive and made it a symbol of love, forgiveness, hos, ¯ Review for Religious pitality, hope, and life. The transformation came because Christ embraced, not the wood of the cross, but the people whom the cross represented, those whose sin and sickness, whose insignif-icance and estrangement, made them repulsive to a world that equates humanism with political power, physical beauty, and cul-tivated tastes. Christian humanism flows from the heart of the pierced Christ; it is born in pain and humiliation; it finds its mean-ing in reconciliation and forgiveness. Christian humanism pro-claims that divine wisdom and power can be found only in the folly and the vulnerability of the cross. Religious leadership has to be born from that same heart, a heart willing to bear pain and humiliation, a heart offering reconciliation and forgiveness. You have to help the lay people who share your mission both to learn and to employ the strategies of Jesus if they wish to accomplish the mission of Jesus. You have to call your scholars to a generosity of sac-rifice that moves beyond criticism and competition into a reverence for wis-dom and a fidelity to a mission that includes social responsibility as well as professional competency. In all the apostolates that you oversee, you have to call attention to the Christ who continues to be crucified in the least of his brothers and sisters. You must pro-claim to those who look to you for leadership that you point to the crucified and risen Lord, whose cross represents best what the gospel honors, the compassion that brings us into the presence of God. Religious leadership has to be born from a heart willing to bear pain and humiliation, a heart offering reconciliation and forgiveness. "Called by Jesus: Free to Lead" Under this watchword we have reflected on what inhibits the exercise of religious leadership. We have situated the qualities of leadership within religious experience, the experience of being called to be a companion in the mission that God inaugurated in Christ. I focused on three tasks that describe the essential quali-fies of a contemporary religious leader in today's church: the abil-ity to design strategies that further the kingdom within any and September-October 1997 Gray * Conton~orar~ Reli~ous Leadership every specific ministry, the ability to implement those designs through these existing ministries, and the ability to do this in the compassion of Christ's cross. I designated three crucial areas in which leadership needs to be exercised by the community superior: in the formation of lay apostolic colleagues, in the work of scholars in the church, and in ~tbe work of evangelization, especially among those on the fringe of the church's attention. What, finally, catches what it is to be a religious leader today? Is it to be someone who can envision a mission and articulate it with stunning effect? Is it the man of hard-nosed practicality that gets the jobs done, that absorbs criticism and never looks for thanks? Is it the saint among us who radiates the care and insight of Jesus? I have seen each of these in my brother Jesuits. Sometimes I saw parts of them in myself, not all at one time, but here and there, scattered over the six years of my term as provin-cial. I suspect that you, too, have found the same in your work as major superiors. But, when everything else fades away, what is the one characteristic that a major superior has to have? To answer that, I turn to something I wrote years ago called Letters to a New Rector: "Finally. it is a matter of love., for our brothers. If I had any one piece of advice, I'd say simply pray for the grace to love your brothers. The gift God gives in response does not make problems go away, but it does usher us into the presence of God's love. We stand with our Lord, surveying the world of our com-munity: the fervent and the weak, the quick and the shy, the boast-ful and the withdrawn, the leader and the follower--and God invites us to cherish not what should be but what is. I believe that this is the real 'grace of office,' the gift to become, with all its messiness and risk, a more loving man."12 Back in 1982 I thought that this was the essential quality of a good superior; in 1997 I feel it all the more. --466 Notes t As quoted in Howard Gardner, Leading Minds: An Anatomy of Leadership (New York: Basic Books, 1995), p. 22. 2 Donald Senior CP, "Living in the Meantime: Biblical Foundations for Religious Life," in Living in the Meantime: Concerning the Transformation of Religious Life, ed. Paul J. Philibert (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1994), pp. 61-62: "If we understand obedience in its most radical form as the faithful listening to God's voice as it comes to us through the community, through our teachers and leaders, and through the events Review for Religious of history, then we tap into a characteristic of faith most blessed by the Bible." 3 Charles R. Morris, American Catholics: The Saints and Sinners Who Built America's Most Powerful Church (New York: Times Books, 1997), pp. 320-321. 4 See, e.g., Peter M. Senge, "The Leader's New Work: Building Learning Organizations," Sloan Management Review 32, no. 1 (Fall 1990): 7-23; Robert N. Bellah, "Leadership Viewed from the Vantage Point of American Culture," Origins 20, no. 14 (13 September 1990): 217, 219-223; John Coleman sJ, "Dimensions of Leadership," Origins 20, no. 14 (13 September 1990), pp. 223-228; W. Chan Kim and Renee A. Mauborgne, "Parables of Leadership," Harvard Business Review (July- August 1991): 122-127; and Howard Gardner, Leading Minds. Also, the entire February 1982 issue of Studies in Formative Spirituality features the topic "Spiritual Formation and Leadership." s,6,7 Bellah, "Leadership," pp. 219, 220, 221. s See John W. O'Malley SJ, "Priesthood, Ministry, and Religious Life: Some Historical and Historiographical Considerations," Theological Studies 49, no. 2 (1988): 223-257; also his First Jesuits (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1993) and his essay "One Priesthood: Two Traditions," in A Concert of Charisms: Ordained Ministry in Religious Life, ed. Paul K. Hennessy CFC, (Mahwah: Paulist Press). 9 "From "Cooperation with the Laity in Mission," Decree 13 of Documents of the Thirty-Fourth General Congregation of the Society of Jesus (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1995), §337, pp. 161-162. ~0 Annice Callahan RSCJ, "Heart," in The New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), pp. 468-469. n David Hollenbach SJ "The Catholic University under the Sign of the Cross: Christian Humanism in a Broken World," in Finding God in All Things: Essays in Honor of Michael J. Buckley Sy, ed. Michael J. Himes and Stephen J. Pope (New York: Crossroad Herder, 1996), p. 293. 12 Howard J. Gray sJ, "An Experience in Ignatian Government: Letters to a New Rector," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 14, no. 4 (September 1982): 29-30. September-October 1997 JOEL GIALLANZA Continuing Formation: ¯ Perspectives from Vita Consecrata Tecrtaam, OcSont triencueenst ptoa pbael tdhoec uombjeenctt oonf rmeluigciho udsis lcifues,s Vioitna acnond-reflection and analysis among people in the various forms of con-secrated life within the church. While it is generally acknowl-edged that this document does not break new ground in the theology of consecrated life, it does contain some sections which can be helpful reminders of the basic values and priorities for this way of life. One such section contains the three paragraphs on continu-ing formation (§§69-71). In general, the paragraphs concerning vocation promotion and formation (§§63-71) are among the most helpful in the entire document. This stems not so much from anything particularly new in them as from their acknowledgment of and clarity concerning important experiential realities. The three paragraphs on continuing formation address some basic principles, its necessity throughout religious life, and the dimen-sions through which it engages the whole person. These paragraphs on continuing formation are well situated within l~ta consecrata. They appear in chapter 2, "Consecrated Life as a Sign of Communion in the Church," and specifically within part 3 of that chapter, "Looking to the Future." The impli-cation is clear: The quality and integrity of religious life as a sign of unity in the church for the future is directly related to the qual- Joel Giallanza CSC, a frequent contributor, wrote two articles for our 1995 volume. His address is Congregazione di Santa Croce; Via Framura, 85; 00168 Roma, Italy. Review for Religious ity and integrity which religious life embodies today. While this may be a statement of the obvious, it is nevertheless a useful reminder that nothing about our way of life is automatic. Through our daily lives we either fortify or forfeit the quality and integrity of religious life, now and for the 21st century. Principles The principles cited in Vita consecrata are offered as affirmation, encouragement, and guidance for institutes as they try to provide specific means for the continuing formation of their members. Paragraph 69, though brief, mentions three basic principles. First, "continuing formation, whether in institutes of apostolic or contemplative life, is an intrinsic requirement of religious con-secration." As religious we tend to use the past tense when speak-ing of our own formation experiences. Such language is quite understandable since it incorporates and highlights memories of our initial years in religious life. Those years were followed by "final" profession (and ordination) and then involvement in "active ministry." Thus, we came to the "end" of our formation. Given this perspective, it can be easily assumed that some religious (younger and newer members) are "in formation" and some are not. The first principle points to the inaccuracy of this perspec-tive by reminding us that all religious are in formation, regardless of the number of years since initial or perpetual profession. The basis of this principle is a simple reality of human nature. "Due to human limitations, the consecrated person can never claim to have completely brought to life the 'new creature' who in every circumstance of life reflects the very mind of Christ." Our transformation into living likenesses of Jesus never ends. We cannot at any point say, "I am complete, nothing remains to be done," and simultaneously claim to be truly alive. At least we do hot come to that point in this life apart from an arrogance that steadfastly refuses to acknowledge the need for further growth. Unless we maintain our efforts for continual human and spiritual growth in every part of our life, refusing to let our relationship with the Lord become somehow stale, we begin to drift away from that relationship. The implications of such drifting com-promise and contradict the very. witness religious life is meant to give. Second, "initial formation should be closely connected with September-October 1997 Giallanza ¯ Continuing Formation continuing formation." The separation of these two underlies that tendency to speak and think of formation in the past tense. Revised constitutional texts are eloquent regarding the indis-pensability of continuing formation. However, the challenge in reestablishing a recognizable link between initial and continuing formation is not documentary but structural. Programs of initial formation must communicate clearly and consistently that for-mation in religious life is, of its nature, a progressive thing that persists to the very end of one's life. Then religious institutes, individually or collaboratively, must develop and implement pro-grams of continuing formation to which members are regularly invited and in which their participation is occasionally required. The idea of this principle is to foster right at the beginning "a readiness on everyone's part to let themselves be formed every day of their lives." This is inseparable from the first principle. Without the recognition that continuing formation is important and 'necessary throughout religious life, the "readiness" for such formation will be minimal or nonexistent. If continuing formation is assumed to be for the benefit of "other members," those expe-riencing some "particular difficulty" at this point in their lives, then its effectiveness for and its impact upon the future of religious life will be negligible. Third, "it will be very important for every institute to provide, as part of its ratio institutionis, a precise and systematic description of its plan of continuing formation." In general, religious institutes have not developed continuing-formation programs comparable in quality to those for initial formation. The reasons for that vary from institute to institute; nevertheless, formators and those in authority should identify and explore those reasons with a view to addressing the potential consequences for the future. The plan for which Vita consecrata calls should be designed "to provide all consecrated persons with a program which encompasses their whole life." No doubt such a program will necessitate some allo-cation of personnel and financial resources; that allocation, how-ever, will prove to be a wise investment in the future of the institute and of religious life. The basis of this principle is the truth that "none are exempt from the obligation .to grow humanly and as religious; by the same token, no one can be overconfident and live in self-suffi-cient isolation." To facilitate the members' response to this obli-gation, religious institutes must provide sufficient opportunities Review for Religious through a comprehensive plan and an accompanying program of continuing formation. An effective plan and engaging program will affirm that "at no stage of life can people feel so secure and committed that they do not need to give careful attention to ensuring perseverance in faithfulness." These three, principles assume that religious desire to deepen their commitment to religious life and are willing to do whatever is necessary for nurturing that deeper commitment. Also assumed is the institute's investment of time, energy, and resources in developing and maintaining appropriate means of assisting the members in this desire and willingness of theirs. Necessity Cultivating and sustaining faith-fulness is at the heart of continuing formation. "At every stage of life a person seeks and finds a new task to fulfill, a particular way of being, of serving, and of loving" (§70). That task and way call for a renewed sense of fidelity, a refreshed approach to every dimension of religious life. Thus, continuing formation is necessary throughout life to assist us in exploring and developing ways of living fidelity that are appropriate and .adequate for the changes in our personal requirements and our professional responsibilities. Paragraph 70 of Vita consecrata identifies five stages within religious life, each of which calls for specific means of support, "encouragement, and guidance adapted to the individual's experi-ences in ministry, prayer, community, and living the vows. Those means will be more beneficial to the degree that they incorpo-rate relevant aspects of the institute's distinctive heritage and tra-dition. The document presents these stages in a generic way so that they can be addressed according to the character and charism of the institute. First, "in the consecrated life the first years offull involvement in the apostolate are a critical, stage, marked by the passage from a supervised life to a situation of full responsibility for one's work." Without the recognition that continuing formation is important and necessary throughout religious life, the "readiness" for such formation will be minimal or nonexistent. September-October 1997 Giallanza ¯ Continuing Formation As newly professed (or ordained) religious move from an envi-ronment of careful guidance and close direction into conditions where their range of activities and use of time are more self-deter-mined, they should be provided with support and accompani-ment. Ideally, these will be offered "by a brother or sister who helps them to live to the full the freshness of their lo-~e and enthu-siasm for Christ." Without such support and accompaniment, the religious may begin to drift, losing their balance and neglecting to give appropriate time and attention to the basic components of everyday religious life. The challenge for continuing formation at this stage is to assure that the experience of transition does not dominate and define people's religious life, but rather that their life as religious gives meaning and direction to the transition. Second, "middle-aged consecrated persons" may experience "the risk of routine and the subsequent temptation to give in to dis-appointment because of meager results." As religious become increasingly competent and fluent in their professional responsi-bilities and as their daily activities become a familiar and contin-uous cycle, the energy and enthusiasm surrounding their commitment can begin to wane. Everything looks and feels rou-tine, including those obligations most essential to religious life. At this point in their life, religious "must therefore be helped, in light of the Gospel and the charism of their institute, to renew their original decision and not confuse the completeness of their dedication with the degree of good results." The challenge for continuing formation at this stage is "to search for what is essen-tial" precisely so that routine and disappointment do not become determining factors in forming strategies for life and ministry in the future. Third, "the stage of maturity, while it brings personal growth, can also bring the danger of a certain individualism, accompa-nied either by a fear of not being in line with the times or by forms of inflexibility, self-centeredness, or diminished enthusi-asm." Of all the stages, this is the most complex. It is a time of reexamining and redesigning personal identity. Religious may observe quite unexpected and unexplained behaviors or state-ments or plans coming from someone they have known and lived with for many years. One task will be to assist the person in redis-covering the value and beauty of self-giving in community and ministry. The challenge for continuing formation at this stage is "not only to bring back a higher level of spiritual and apostolic life, Review for Religious but also [to discover] the special characteristics of this stage of life." It is indeed a time 6f refashioning personal identity. Support can be provided through various forms of assistance and guid-ance so that "the gift of self is made to God more genuinely and with greater generosity [and] extends to others with greater seren-ity and wisdom, as well as with greater simplicity and richness of grace." Fourth, "advanced age poses new problems, which can be pre-pared for by a discerning program of spiritual support." This stage can be a particularly rich period of life when the religious is accompanied in seeing the possibilities for growth and the poten-tials for transformation within it. Without that accompaniment, it can become a time of loneliness and bitterness. The document recognizes that, even though this is "often a time of suffering, advanced age nonetheless offers to elderly consecrated persons the chance to be transformed by the paschal experience." The challenge, then, for continuing formation at this stage is to sup-port religious in "a new way of living one's consecration, which is not tied to effectiveness in carrying out administrative responsi-bilities or apostolic work." This new way of life becomes the foun-dation for the transforming work of God's grace. Fifth, "when the moment finally comes for uniting oneself to the suprerfie hour of the Lord's Passion, the consecrated person knows that the Father is now bringing to completion the mysterious process of formation which began many years before." Death is the consummation of the formation process. For religious it is "the supreme act of love and self-offering," even as was Jesus' own. Death thereby confirms and celebrates lifelong faithfulness. The goal of continuing formation in each of these stages is to facilitate fidelity. The document makes no assumption that fidelity will be effortless; quite the contrary, it acknowledges that "any period can present critical situations due to external factors., or resulting from more directly personal factors." Beyond whatever programs may be designed and made available, "when fidelity becomes more difficult, the individual must be offered the support of greater trust and deeper love, at both the personal and com-munity levels." Such trust and love are the greatest gifts any reli-gious can receive through the process of continuing formation. They are also the most powerful gifts the community can pro-vide. These gifts constitute the strong and lasting supports of fidelity and of religious life itself. Septentber-October 1997 Giallanza ¯ ContinuingFormation Dimensions "If the subject of formation is the individual at every stage, the object of formation is the whole person" (§71). Any process of continuing formation must incorporate those dimensions which reflect the full extent to which consecrated life engages the per-son. Paragraph 71 of Vita consecrata identifies four such dimen-sions. First, "the human and fraternal dimensions of the consecrated life call for self-knowledge and the awareness of personal limita-tions." These dimensions are the most extensive for they include the full range of human qualities and capabilities. "In present-day circumstances, special importance must be given to the inte-rior freedom of consecrated persons, their affective maturity, their ability to communicate with others, especially in their own com-munity, their serenity of spirit, their compassion for those who are suffering, their love for the truth, and a correspondence between their actions and their words." Sexual integration and the devel-opment of healthy relationships as significant means of nurturing and sustaining a celibate commitment could be added to this list. Even if an individual has established a solid base for all these aspects of life during initial formation, there is no guarantee that the base will remain stable and sufficient as the person matures and encounters new experiences. More than likely the opposite will be true: the initial base will become inadequate and will need rebuilding in light of personal growth and development. Attentiveness to these human and relational dimensions of life must be a priority for all religious, regardless of culture, age, or ministry. Second, "the apostolic dimension opens the hearts and minds of consecrated persons and prepares them for constant effort in the apostolate . In practice, this will involve updating the methods and objectives of apostolic works in fidelity to the spirit and aims of the founder or foundress and to subsequently emerging tradi-tions." There are two important realities within this dimension: maintaining efforts and updating ministries. Ministry demands and consumes energy and enthusiasm. We must have adequate provisions for supporting and strengthening our efforts in ministry lest we communicate a lack of motivation and meaning to those with and for whom we work. Closely related to this is the need to evaluate our corporate ministries to determine the level of their continuing responsiveness and relevance to current and develop- Review for Religious ing needs. A similar evaluation must be applied to our individual ministerial skills to determine the extent of our personal need for updating. If we neglect to monitor and evaluate the quality of ministry we provide, then the apostolic dimension of our life can turn inward. When individual and corporate works are maintained for the sake of the religious involved, their significance gradually diminishes as needs change and are replaced by more pressing ones. Eventually those works continue to exist in response to nothing contem-porary except for providing the peo-ple currently involved in them with jobs. The apostolic dimension of reli-gious life challenges us to examine periodically the actual needs being met through our individual and corporate works. Third, "the cultural and professional dimensions, based upon a solid theo-logical training which provides the means for wise discernment, involve continual updating and special interest in the different areas to which each charism is directed." The document urges consecrated persons to "keep themselves as intellectually open and adaptable as possible, so that the apostolate will be envisaged and carried out according to the needs of their own time, making use of the means provided by cultural progress." The perspective adopted here reflects and expands the main points already mentioned under the apostolic dimension. However, the openness and adaptability emphasized in these dimensions have important implications for at least two other areas. First, these qualities are truly necessary for welcoming and listening to those presently entering the institute. New members will bring perspectives and ideas which can make a contribution to our way of life. Openness and adaptability confirm our desire to receive vocations, to listen and to learn. Second, these same qualities are important in light of the growing internationality within many religious institutes. Openness and adaptability enable us to benefit from the wisdom and experience of those entering religious life from parts of the world which do not represent the The apostolic dimension of religious life challenges us to examine periodically the actual needs being met through our individual and corporate works. September-October 1997 Giallanza ¯ Continuing Formation historically or traditionally dominant culture of the institute. This development is and will continue to be a major challenge to some institutes, given their rapidly changing demographics. Fourth, "all these elements are united in the dimension of the charism proper to each institute, as it were in a synthesis which calls for a constant deepening of one's own special consecration in all its aspects, not only apostolic but also ascetical and mystical." Learning about and reflecting upon the institute's history and the contemporary significance and applicability of its heritage must be included in any continuing-formation program. Inadequate is the assumption that what was learned in initial formation about the founder or foundress and the heritage will be sufficient through-out life. Experiences in ministry, prayer, community, living the vows, as well as the natural process of human development and maturation, will influence our perspective and interpretation of whatever was learned earlier. The charism must be explored and integrated anew with all the richness of those experiences and that process. The purpose of this renewed exploration and integration is "to advance the personal and communal assimilation of [the insti-tute's] charism." Without this assimilation the charism gradually degenerates into an ancient and fragile artifact: interesting, but of little practical use today. One consequence is that the institute can become a generic humanitarian organization, doing good works but lacking a distinctively attractive character that invites others to share its way of life. A continuing-formation program is no magic formula for ensuring that members will regularly study and reflect upon the institute's charism, but it can emphasize the importance and value oir such study and reflection while provid-ing resources that encourage and facilitate them. These four dimensions can be expanded further and enriched by the particular ways they are adapted and applied within each institute's plan for continuing formation. Whatever that expansion and enrichment may entail, these dimensions form a solid foun-dation upon which to develop the curriculum for a sound con-tinuing- formation program. Living in the Spirit "Formation is a dynamic process by means of which individ-uals are converted to the Word of God in the depths of their being and at the same time learn how to discover the signs of God in earthly realities" (§68). This process begins with initial formation and never ends. We always need further conversion to God's Word and clearer recognition of God's presence and activ-ity in our world. Accepting that.need and responding to it lead us ever more surely along the "path of gradual identification with the attitude of Christ towards the Father" (§65). This path con-stitutes the very nature and purpose of all formation. Precisely because this identification is gradual, "the commitment to formation never ends" (§65). Formation remains therefore but a single real-ity. Admittedly, different emphases and tasks characterize each stage along the way; nevertheless, formation remains an unbroken and unending journey toward transformation into the living like-ness of Jesus. Fidelity to this journey is a grace of the Spirit at work within us. "Living in the Spirit, consecrated persons discover their own identity and find profound peace; they grow more attentive to the daily challenges of the word of God, and they allow them-selves to be guided by the original inspiration of their institute" (§71). This life in the Spirit characterizes the journey and guides us to the fullness of our religious life--union with the Lord. Continuing formation can provide us with some compelling insights and incentives for exploring and assimilating the many and varied blessings along the pathways of this graced journey, now and for the future. can-~now be°ordered~or renewed byFAX . and!paid f0t' ~byfMast~rCard'or Visa. ~,X the~brder form inside the back~over, ~:CALL~-oug office vci~' your,credi~ .FAX: '~ 1~!,977-7362 ~ ":o. PI~OtgE~'~31~-9_77~7363 ~ -. L4~-7-- September-October 1997 BETTY ANN McNEIL Tracing the Vincentian Family Tree methodology Is our faith strong enough to risk tapping latent potential in the signs of our times at the brink of the third millen-nium? Some individuals and religious institutes that share the charism of one and the same founder or patron may have charismatic energy that goes unnoticed and unused, waiting only to be recognized and then made use of. Attentiveness to our world and prayerful reflection on its situation call us to envision the synergy of future ministry. by looking back to our origins. Delving into our historic roots enables us to appreciate our spiritual heritage more and understand our mission and spiritual identity better. The great missionary or religious person is not so much one whose words are beautiful as one whose life is striking.1 Such an individual was St. Vincent de Paul (1581- 1660), whose mission and spiritual legacy continue to inspire his followers and challenge today's church. The urgency of St. Vincent's mission compels women and men to come together and seek the common ground of their Vincentian identity. St. Vincent's vision can spark fires of charity and zeal for the 21 st century. The real needs of the world's poor summon the men and women who profess a preferential option for the poor according to the tradition of St. Vincent de Paul and St. Betty Ann McNeil DC, a member of the'Vincentian Studies Institute, is currently involved in research and presentations on the Vincentian mission and community heritage of the Daughters of Charity. Her address is St. Joseph's Provincial House; 333 South Seton Avenue; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727. Review for Religious Louise de Marillac (1591-1660) to go beyond rhetoric to concrete action. Our ability to escape into cyberspace must not lull us into ignoring the realities of the poor, but must impel us to harness new energy to accomplish our mission in innovative ways just as Vincent de Paul did for his generation. Charism of Charity and Evangelization Recent international research on religious institutes has traced the ties of kinship within the Vincentian tradition in a way that could provide useful information for carrying out an institute's mission. Its application could foster creative collaboration (regionally, nationally, and internationally) on behalf of the least of our brothers and sisters--the poor whom St. Vincent considered his lords and masters.2 St. Vincent's vision of service was collaborative--requiring relationships, teamwork, linkages, and networking to accomplish the mission. Confronted with urgency and driven by necessity, he shaped his charity and evangelization in innovative ways. He simply but clearly shared with the first members his vision for the Company of Charity: "We should assist the poor in every way and do it both by ourselves and by enlisting the help of others . To do this is to preach the gospel by words and by works."3 Over the years the extended Vincentian family has preached the gospel by words and by works throughout the world and in so doing has grown to include more than two hundred diverse groups of women and men, lay people and religious, Catholics and Anglicans. The mission, spirit, and rule of Vincent de Paul have been adapted to many cultures since emerging in 17th-century France. That has resulted in a majestic family tree. The Vincentian Family Tree The largest branches of the Vincentian family tree bear communities with which Vincent de Paul himself was personally involved, those under his patronage, or those begun by members of institutes that he himself founded: the Confraternity of Charity, the Ladies of Charity, the Congregation of the Mission, and the Daughters of Charity. Another large limb supports the numerous congregations that follow the foundational Common Rules of the Daughters of Charity and of the Congregation of the Mission, which Septentber-October 1997 McNeil Q Tracing tbe Vincentian Family Tree evolved through St. Vincent's collaboration with St. Louise de Marillac for more than thirty years.4 Other large limbs on the family tree bear communities that share Vincent's mission of serving Jesus Christ in the poor in a spirit of humility, simplicity, and charity. Goal The Vincentian Studies Institute (VSI), cosponsored by the, provinces of the Daughters of Charity and the Congregation of the Mission in the United States and dedicated to promoting a living interest in the Vincentian heritage, conducted a project to gather information about the extended Vincentian family from a genealogical perspective. Called the Family Tree Project, it was to research the historical development of the extended Vincentian family around the globe since 1617.s Initially it located, organized, and recorded existing information from the few national listings of Vincentian communities that had been published in Europe, most notably France, Spain, and Italy.6 No comprehensive international list had ever been compiled until the institute published The Vincentian Family Tree.7 This documentation of the family's growth raised the consciousness of historic links and relationships within the tradition and provides material for collective reflection, discernment, and action. The Vincentian Family Tree provokes timely questions for personal and corporate self-examination:6 What types of mission-oriented forums could institutes rooted in the charism of Vincent de Paul create for reflection and action? How could collaboration among related institutes help realize the ageless vision of St. Vincent in new ways for today's society? What goals could national federations establish for addressing the root causes of poverty? What joint projects could regional associations sponsor for serving the poor more effectively in this era of welfare reform? Project Criteria The Family Tree Proiect traced the genealogical development of Catholic and other Christian religious congregations, societies of apostolic life, and lay associations for men and women. This project developed numerous criteria to distinguish groups within the extended Vincentian family and then designed a multilevel Review for Religious approach involving fourteen criteria. The research was designed to illustrate the degree of relationship to the historical Vincent de Paul and his own foundations. From a genealogical perspective, affiliation with establishments made by St. Vincent himself and using his Common Rules represents the closest relationship, whereas foundations made by members of his communities are related to a lesser degree. Primarily using an international survey and consultations based on referrals, the research simply proceeded from the known to the unknown. A survey instrument collected basic identifying data and historical details according to specific criteria. Respondents were invited to provide reference information about other communities that should be contacted also. From. extant institutes with the closest degree of affinity to St. Vincent, pictures of the founder were requested with a view to their being published. To avoid errors in identification, The Vincentian Family Tree provokes timely questions for personal and corporate self-examination. immediately upon receipt each picture was logged, labeled, and cross-referenced by the identification code for the related institute. A tiered approach was used for data collection. Both historical and collateral research in various publications identified prospective entities by congregational tides (for example, inclusion of the words Vincent de Paul or Charity), place of origin, and similarity of mission or spirit,s Conferences of major superiors throughout the world were contacted for assistance in identifying diocesan communities. Much helpful information and additional leads were obtained from consultation with community archivists, community historians, foreign missionaries, and past or present congregational leaders. The survey instrument contained a cover letter, a two-page questionnaire, a self-addressed return envelope, and a referral form for identifying additional prospective communities. It would have been helpful if respondents had been asked to append a one-page documented summary of their foundation. Findings The Family Tree Project identified 268 societies of apostolic life and institutes of consecrated life (239 religious institutes, 21 layL4SI Septonber-October 1997 McNeil ¯ Tradn~ the Vincentian Family Tree associationsl and eight Anglican congregations) that met at least one criterion of the Family Tree Project. Its report, The Vincentian Family Tree, summarizes all available information about each group and classifies it only once according to the degree of affinity closest to St. Vincent. Some institutes met more than one criterion and could have been listed in several categories. Besides the institutes whose primary claim to St. Vincent is their adaptation of his Common Rules tt-their purposes, thirty~ other institutes adopted those rules and follow them. Service of the poor was the founding charism for another seventy institutes, of which thirteen make specific reference to serving the sick poor and eight have a fourth vow of service to the poor. Numerous others claim the same community virtues as the Daughters of Charity: humility, simplicity, and charity. The following are some of the Family Tree Project's findings: St. Vincent de Paul himself founded two institutes and two lay associations. Fifty Catholic religious institutes, seven Anglican con-gregations, and one Catholic secular institute adopted the Common Rules of Vincent de Paul or substantially incorpo-rated their major principles into their rule. St. Vincent served as mentor or advisor or in some other way for nine institutes. Thirty-nine institutes and five lay associations were established by members, or former members, of the Congregation of the Mission. Nineteen institutes and two lay associations were estab-lished by members, or former members, of the Company of the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul. Three institutes were established by lay members of the Vincentian family. Ninety-nine institutes and one lay association have Vincent de Paul as one of their patrons. Rule of St. Vincent Among the many influences that fostered the charism of charity within the extended Vincentian family intoday's world, the Common Rules of the Daughters of Charity are the most prominent. Many of the communities which use or adapted what is poPularly known as the rule of St. Vincent have Vincent de Paul as their patron and also may have been founded by a member of the Congregation of the Mission or the Daughters of Charity. On the Review for Religious basis of available information, a total of eighty Roman Catholic institutes throughout the world substantially follow the Common Rules of the Daughters of Charity. Many factors influenced the early growth and rapid expansion of Vincent de Paul's foundations. Primarily, the originality of the rule he gave his Daughters of Charity had appeal to others. In 1646 St. Vincent first submitted it for approval to Jean Franqois de Gondi, archbishop of Paris. This primitive document resulted from thirteen years of the early sisters' lived experience under the direction of Louise de Marillac. The rule of St. Vincent, without further specification, refers to the Common Rules of the Daughters of Charity for women's institutes and .to the Common Rules of the Congregation of the Mission for men's institutes. For women's communities established after 1672, references to the rule of St. Vincent refer to the document promulgated on 5 August 1672 by St. Vincent's successor, Very Reverend Ren6 Alm6ras CM (1613~1672). Alm~ras had organized Vincent's original rule into chapters and included oral teachings of the founder. It is this text that passed from generation to generation as (popularly) "the rule of Vincent de Paul," although it is in fact a revision of'the text of Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac, The Company accepted it as its Act of Establishment on 8 August 1655.9 The Company of the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul evolved from the first sisters working in the Confraternities of Charity of. the Servants of the Sick Poor in a number of parishes in France and from the Ladies of Charity at the H6tel-Dieu in Paris. Today the Ladies of Charity have more than 250,000 members worldwide. There are 27,000 Daughters of'Charity and 3,600 priests anti'brothers in the Congregation of the Mission. Over~ the years, some institutes have become affiliated to the Daughters of Charity or to the Congregation of the Mission through nonjuridical ties of a spiritual nature. The 1994 affliafion of eleven communities of Sisters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul (in Germany, Austria, and India) to the Vincentian Federation of Germany is the most recent example. Earlier examples include the Oblates of Mary Immaculate, founded in France in 1816; the Institute of the Nazarene, founded in Italy in 1865; and the Sisters of the Eucharist, founded in Greece in 1889. The geographic spread of the institutes studied was as follows: 75 percent in Europe, primarily Western Europe (193), 13.5 September-October 1997 McNeil ¯ Tracing the Vincentian Family Tree percent in America; primarily North America (22) and Central America ~10); 9.3 percent in Asia; 1.8 percent in Africa, and .4 percent in Australasia. "I~he Charism.of Charity and Evangelization As a prototype for apostolic women, St. Vincent and St. Louise's servants of the poor (whom the people they served called daughters of charity) not only represented a revolutionary change from the status quo, but were inspired by the Spirit to a mission driven by gospel values. Although not the first to take such an initiative, Vincent and Louise were the first to succeed on a large scale.1° Many bishops both in and beyond France soon adopted the rules and model that St. Vincent and St. Louise developed and adapted them to meet pastoral needs within their dioceses, frequently to assure continuance of new schools that were then emerging, especially for little girls. This was another step forward for the mission, vision, and ministry of apostolic women. The Vincentian Mission over the Centuries Sons and daughters of Vincent de Paul's own foundations established approximately sixty distinct communities in at least nine countries throughout the globe, with one-third of these located in China. Since 1660, the year both Louise de Marillac and Vincent de Paul died, approximately forty founders either adopted or adapted the Common Rules of Vincent de Paul for their institute. The face of human poverty began to change in the 17th century, requiring new models of response. Urban misery escalated while rural poverty generally continued. Capitalism developed during this time of cultural renaissance, religious reformation, and the growth of Protestantism. Much of Europe looked across the seas to new opportunities. In the 18th century, factors such as higher birth rates, internal migration, and urbanization contributed to massive immigration to new lands on foreign shores and made social needs more urgent, Many bishops throughout Europe sought to reproduce the Vincentian model in their dioceses. The spiritual descendants of the Sisters of Charity of Strasbourg, founded in France in 1734 but dispersed during the French Revolution, now' constitute the Vincentian Federation in Germany and provide the best example Review for Religious of the circuitous ways of the Spirit in bringing new communities to birth in unplanned circumstances. Confronted with the challenges of evangelization in foreign cultures, missionaries frequently gathered indigenous young women to assist them in bridging linguistic and cultural gaps. Urban poverty in Europe increased as land transportation improved and many Europeans sought to explore, colonize, and gain wealth in Africa, Asia, and America. These developments widened the horizon of the Vincentian mission on all continents. As early as 1727 in Palermo, Sicily, the Daughters of Charity, under the patronage of Reverend Nicholas Placid Filippone, may have been the first outside France to claim St. V~ncent as patron of their institute, which was dedicated to caring for the sick, orphans, and widows. Lesg than ten years after his canonization, the St. Vincent de Paul Church in Laval, Canada, became in 1743 the first parish in the world named after the great apostle of charity. As early as 1750, the Chinese Daughters of Charity of Tonkin (Chungqing) became the first Vincentian community founded outside Europe.l~ The French Revolution, which began in 1789, ultimately caused the dispersal and migration of community membership; Many continued the Vincenfian tradition and embodied it 'in new institutes and lay groups. Examples include the Sisters of Charity of St. Joan Anfida, founded at Besangon in 1799, and numerous diocesan communities in Austria and Germany also known as Sisters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul. The sphere of Vincentian influence widened and a ripple effect occurred. The success of Vincent de Paul's parochial charities and the viability of his noncloistered apostolic communities provided timely models for responding to pressing social 'needs among the poor and the emerging middle class. Sister Rosalie Rendu DC (1786-1856) introduced Blessed Frederic Ozanam (1813-1853) to practical charity and became his mentor. This relationship played an important role in the international Society of St. Vincent de Sons and daughters of Vincent de Paul's own foundations established approximately sixty ,distinct communities in at least nine countries throughout the globe. Septonber-October 1997 McNeil ¯ Tracing the Vincentian Family Tree Paul, which Ozanam founded in France in 1833 and which involved lay people in effective parish outreach to the poor. That society now comprises,875,000 members in 130 countries on all five continents . European immigration brought an appreciation of the Vincentian mission to the United States. This, with the impact of exploration and colonization in the Americas, was a factor influencing Bishop Louis William DuBourg SS (1766-1833) to invite Reverend Felix de Andreis CM (1778-1820) and Reverend Joseph Rosati CM. (1789-1843) to initiate the Vincentian mission (1816) in North America.12 In 1827 Rosati became the first bishop bf St. Louis. DuBourg had previously invited the widow Elizabeth Ann Bayley Seton (1774-1821) to Baltimore to establish a Catholic school for~ girls and subsequendy a sisterhood. The :minutes of 14 March 1809 for the Sulpician assembly in Baltimore read: "It is a matter of buying a 'plantation near Emmitsburg to found there a community of daughters, b peu pros sur be meme plan que les filles de la CharitY, de St Vincent de Paul; who join to the care of the sick the instruction of young girls in all branches of Christian education.''13 The French Sulpicians, who befriended Elizabeth Ann Seton, were instrumental in obtaining the rule of Vincent de Paul and forming Mother Seton's Sisters of Charity of St. Joseph's in the Vincentian spirit. Her 1809 foundation at Emmitsburg, Maryland, was the first indigenous religious institute of apostolic women founded in the United States. Elizabeth Ann Seton became the first native-born United States citizen to be declared a saint. . From the Emmitsburg foundation several, other communities, also called Sisters of Charity, developed in North America. These became independent institutes .in New York City (1846), Cincinnati (1852), Convent Station, New Jersey (1859), Greensburg, Pennsylvania (1870), and Halifax, Nova Scotia (1856). In Canada the Religious of Notre-Dame-du-Sacre-Coeur (1924) evolved from the Sisters of Charity of the Immaculate Conception (1854). These institutes and others now constitute,.the Sisters of Charity Federation, which began in 1947 as a collaborative effort to promote the Seton cause for canonization. In the 20the, century, two world wars, economic crises~" Communism, Nazism, and Fascism have brought the global village to a new level of complexity. The cries of today's poor peoples beg for initiatives and innovation to improve their situation. Review for Religious Since Vatican Council II seventeen new branches of Vincentian charity have emerged throughout the world. The church's thrust of mission ad genres has given additional emphasis to evangelization, and thereby new seeds of religious life have budded in different lands, including Nigeria, El Salvador, and the church of silence. Family Groups~ Vincent de Paul himself had an influential working relationship with several founders. Among these were Jean Jacques Olier of the Sulpicians, Pierre de Bdrulle of the Oratorians, Pierre Lambert de La Motte of the Paris Foreign Mission Society, and St. John Eudes, who began the Sisters of Our Lady of Charity of Refuge. St. Vincent also became a consultant~to religious orders such as the Daughters of the Cross, the Daughters of Providence,. and the Daughters of the Holy Family. He was director of the nuns of the first Visitation monasteries in Paris.lq In the United States the Sisters of Charity Federation now includes thirteen institutes that represent 7,000 religious women plus lay associates. Its membership has made significant contributions to the North American church during°its first fifty years of collaboration. In addition, several otheL family groups are especially noteworthy within the interuational extended Vincentian family. ,~ Founded in the United States to preserve the faith among Catholic peoples by engendering a missionary spirit among the faithful, the family of Trinitarians .established by Reverend Thomas A,:~Judge CM (1868-1933) includes the Missionary Cenacle Apostolate (1909), the Missionary Servants of the Most Blessed Trinity (1912), the Missionary Servants of the Most Holy Trinity (1929), and a recent lay branch, the Blessed Trinity Missionary Institute (1964~. Worldwide Web of Charity ,, The Family Tree Project findings provide a point of reference and a model for anyone interested in further study of a group's founding charism and documenting the development of its institutional expression over time. This project any congregation can replicate to examine its own root system and growt.h. The September-October 1997 McNeil * Tracing the Vincentian Family Tree Tracing the Vincentian family tree has helped identify new partners for collaboration that could stimulate innovation in ministry and launch St. Vincent's mission into the third millennium. mission and vision of Vincent de Paul, the great aposde of charity, challenge his spiritual progeny to look into new ways to continue the mission of evangelization and charity. Tracing the Vincentian family tree has helped identify new partners for collaboration that could stimulate innovation in ministry and launch St. Vincent's mission into the third millennium. The Vincentian Family Tree is the only international compilation of all communities known to belong to the extended Vincentian family of St. Vincent de Paul. Thi'~ unique resource contains illustrations and a concise summary describing each community's establishment (date, place, and founder), its primary mission, and the addresses of all extant generalates. Bibliographic data is provided for each entry, and there is a comprehensive index, This Family Tree traces the historical record and paves the way for additional study of the mission, ministries, and membership~ for extant institutes. Appendices include listings of communities .chronologically by category, the addresses of international resource groups dedicated to Vincentian studies, and copies of the survey instruments. The Family Tree is a research tool that can enhance mission. It offers information that 'could bring institutes together to nurture deeper appreciation of the timeless vision of Vincent de Paul as he followed Jesus Christ, the evangelizer of the poor and source and model of all charity2s The Family Tree Project has identified common elements of the Vincentian charism of evangelization and charity in hundreds of institutes worldwide. Inspired by the innovation of Vincent de Paul--"Love is inventive to infinity"~6--how will his present-day followers claim and own these commonalities and move trwards more collaboration in the corporal and spiritual service of the poor? How inventive can hearts given to God for the service of the poor become in a common search to improve both today and tomorrow for the poor? Review for Religious Notes .1 Robert E Maloney CM, He Hears the Cry of the Poor (New York: New City Press, 1995), p. 125. 2 Conference no. 85, to the Daughters of Charity, 11 November 1657, in Saint Vincent de Pauk Correspondance, Entretiens, Documents (here-after CED), ed. Pierre Coste CM, 14 vols. (Paris: Gabalda, 1920-1925), vol. 10, p. 332. 3 Conference no. 195, to the Priests of the Mission, 6 December 1658, in CED 12:87. 4 John Rybolt CM, "From Life to the Rules: The Genesis of the Rules of the Daughters of Charity," Vincentian Heritage 12, no. 2 (Fall 1991): 173-199). s The Vincentian Studies Institute may be contacted through Reverend Edward Udovic CM; DePaul University; 2233 North Kenmore Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60614 (tel. 773-325-7348, fax 773-325-7279, E-mail eudovic@wppost.depaul.edu). 6 See, e.g., Nicolfis Mas, Fundac16n de las Hijas de la Caridad en Espafia," Anales de la Congregaci6n de la Misi6n 85, nos. 6-8 (1977): 107-148. 7 6 Betty Ann McNeil DC, Monograph 1, The Vincentian Family Tree (Chicago: Vincentian Studies Institute, 1996) is available from DePaul University Bookstore; Vincentian Heritage Department; 2419 North Sheffield Avenue; Chicago, Illinois, 60614 (tel. 800-700-8086, fax 773- 325-7701), US$20. 8 These resources include: National Catholic Directory (Chicago: P.J. Kenedy and Sons, 1993); New Catholic Encyclopedia; Annuario Pontificio (Vatican City, 1993), and Dizionario degli istituti di Perfeccione (Rome: Edizioni Pauline, 1973). 9 See Rybolt, "From Life to Rules," pp. 173-199; also see Conference no. 169, to the Daughters of Charity, 8 August 1655, in CED 10:97. 10 For a complete discussion of women in the church of France dur-ing this period and their response to social needs, see Elizabeth Rapley, The Dgvotes: Women and Church in Seventeenth-Century France (Magill-Queen's University Press, 1993). 11 For a full discussion of indigenous communities in China, see Fernand Combaluzier CM, "Congregations chinoises indig~nes dans les vicariats lasaristes," in Le clergg indigkne dans les missions de Chine configes aus congr~gationsfran~ais (Paris: Oeuvre de Saint-Pierre-Apotre, 1945), pp. 15-25. ,2 Rybolt, "Three Pioneer Vincentians," Vincentian Heritage, no. 1 (Fall 1993): 153-168). 13 Annabelle Melville, Louis William DuBourg, 2 vols. (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1986). p 177. The text reads, in translation: "It is a matter of buying a plantation near Emmitsburg to found there a com-munity of daughters, similar to those of the Daughters of Charity of St. September-October 1997 McNeil ¯ Tracing the Vincentian Family Tree Vincent de Paul, who join to the care of the sick the instruction of young girls in all branches of Christian education." 14 McNeil, Vincentian Family Tree, p. xix. ~s See Common Rules of the Daughters of Charity, chap. 1, art. 1, and Constitutions of the Congregation of the Mission, C.I. 16 Conference no: 102, Exhortation to a Dying Brother, 1645, CED 11:146. by the well lord, even in our close family friendship is a mysterious gift, your presence healing in us the wound of loneliness; when we lug back our fatigue at sunset to rest, the bread we will break, the cup We will share, the stories we will tell,' these will wield the power to open the graves where our daily dyings have held our souls and spirit them on love ° s wing to our union by the family well. by holding others in such tenderness evening dances out to embrace us: inay my flames play on your faces, may my breez~e rub your backs, may my moon stroke your heads; so, lord, if thou will bless us, give us good and caring friends and we~will water your creation with this love that brings us home; as our elders learned, we return to old watering holes for more than water--friends and dreams are there to meet us. Uwem-Celestine Akpan SJ Review for Religious JOHN FREUND From Parchment to Cyberspace: New Technologies Can Serve Charisms "We have been making pages for 1500 years . " --a Benedictine monk ~frhonOt- wpaoguel dc ohvaevrea gtheo iung thhte a N reelwig Yiooursk o Trdimere ws aonudld t,h'reenc ebieve featured a few months, later in a New York Times Book Review article? And the stories had nothing to do with scandal. In fact, the tone of the articles reflected uncommon respect and even admi-ration for the electronic publishing endeavors of the Benedictines at Christ in the Desert Monastery. These religious have found a new way to embody their charism of working with the written word. The world looks on, fascinated by the blend of devotion, artistry, and technological expertise. The Benedictines of Christ in the Desert Monastery host a Web site on the Internet, where they "continue the heritage of creativity, the arts, and handicrafts as exemplified by our prede-cessors in monastic life. We write on electrons creating cyber-books: pages for the World Wide Web . We have been making pages for 1500 years. It is part of our tradition, our heritage as monks." (See Web sites in the Note at the end of this article.) It is a new monastery industry, an industry that goes beyond jams and breads. By using technology to update their approaches to ministry, the Benedictines offer food to hungry souls in the vast community that the Internet comprises, and they have also John Freund CM may be addressed at St. John's University; 8000 Utopia Parkway; Jamaica, New York 11'439 (or: freundjb@stjohns.edu). September-October 1997 Freund ¯ From Parchment to Cyberspace found a source of income to support their ministry. Institutions seeking to establish a presence on the Internet prize the skills of the Benedictines. As these religious assist already developed print media to migrate to a new form of library on the Internet, they have developed a new face for their ministry to the world. Updating a Community Charism Religious coffgregations in the 20th century have wrestled with the challenge of expressing charisms anew in the modern or postmodern world. The Benedictines of Christ in the Desert Monastery have peered thoughtfully through the lens of tech-nology to examine their charism again. Other congregations might engage in such a process, too, especially taking into account the evolution of the Internet and the World Wide Web. Some individual members or pockets of "early adopters" of new technology haveventured into cyberspace as modern-day Gutenbergs, adapting developing technologies in service of the gospel. But the Benedictine community of Christ of the Desert offers a hint of what might happen if other communities, too, began to look at their charisms through the special lens of tech-nology. This is by no means the only way to revitalize a charism. I suggest merely that the Internet and its associated technologies might provide us with great new opportunities, opportunities that may well deserve much more attention than they. have thus far received. As a Vincentian, an example that occurs readily to me is that the poor are being shut out of the newly emerging world of information. The sad prospect is that the gap between the haves and the have-nots will .only increase. Communities that work to reduce poverty and to provide a way out of poverty must look at issues raised by a new form of deprivation--"information poverty." What the Benedictines have accomplished belongs to a broad landscape. Here we explore some of its horizons and look at ways to move forward boldly and prudently. Information Age ~ There is a revolution going on in communication, a sea change. It has various names: cyberspace, the Internet, the Web,° computer-mediated communication. Some describe it as more Review for Religious than a revolution, as a paradigm shift possibly more significant than that brought about by the printing press. Reactions vary. Some hail the changes; others ridicule, revile, or fear them. Religious leaders in Iran have labeled it a plot of the Western. world to subvert religious and cultural values and impose Western materialism in every home. (A decline in cultural and religious values and a rise in materialism may to a certain extent be an effect of all media everywhere, even if unintended.) Regardless of whether opti-mistic or pessimistic views of modern com-munication media prove closer to the truth, regardless of how intimidating, oversold, or underestimated these media are, it seems the revolution cannot be ignored. Microsoft computer titan Bill Gates learned the lesson the hard way. Initially he miscalculated the impact of the Internet. Now he has seen the light and scrambles to revise his multibillion dollar company's plan. He knows Microsoft needs to catch the wave he at least implicitly admits he did not see coming. The revolution brings tremendous implications for the church and for religious communities in our postmodern world. It should not be ignored. Put another way, it can only be ignored at tremen-dous cost to evangelization. We need to evaluate the new medium of the Internet without allowing ourselves to be driven by the "hype." Information and information technology are, of themselves, neutral. We need to use them in the service of gospel values. Gospel-centered vision must lead us, rather than trends and fads. We need to evaluate the new medium of the Internet without allowing ourselves to be driven by the "hype." What Is the Internet? In some ways the Internet is akin to, but even more powerful than, the largest multinational corporation. It cuts across inter-national and ideological boundaries, all without incurring long-distance charges, because computers connect to a local network. Metaphors abound. The Internet has a Barnes and Noble megabookstore-like aspect, but with many more rows of shelves, not to mention the comfort of your own chair, coffee, and slippers Septentber-October 1997 Freund ¯ From Parchment to CFberspace --- 494 if you connect from home. It differs from a bookstore in that, when a publication catches your attention, you can frequently establish e-mail contact with the authors, send notice of it to a friend on the other side of town or the world, or join an interna-tional discussion of the work. It evokes the memory of our parents' or grandparents' excite-ment about getting a television set or a radio--but with this sig-nificant difference: the 'Net puts in homes and offices not only a receiver, but also a transmitter. At another level the 'Net resem-bles a gigantic party-line conversation. Freedom and chaos abound as people share their worlds, eavesdrop, advise strangers, and always look for more information. Virtual communities of sin-ners and saints, .of health practitioners and disease sufferers, of workers and game players spring up in the free-flowing world of the Internet. The Internet sends mail moi'd efficiently than any postal ser-vice ever imagined. How fiercely people on the Internet grumble if electronic mail delivery requires more than a few seconds! Hence the derogatory appellation of ordinary postal service: "snail mail." All this has its shadow side. Point-and-click ease of sending multiple copies is a mass-marketer's delight, and the possibility of "spamming" (flooding another's electronic mailbox with so much mail that important communication gets buried) or "flaming" (send-ing inflammatory or just plain rude messages) delights the venge-ful and the mischievous. But e-mail opens up new possibilities of networking which many have already seized upon. The Internet makes strange bed-fellows-- the anarchist cozies up to the traditionalist. Pro-life and pro-choice activists proclaim their positions in this free-speech medium. Traditionalists and Call to Action groups clamor for attention. An exiled Catholic bishop and Mother Angelica hold forth from the same podium. The World Wide Web, the "www" increasingly cited on busi-ness cards, billboards, and print advertisements, may provide the most apt metaphor. The Web entangles us, whether we realize it or not. As bandwidth and baud (net jargon for speed of transmission) increase, the Internet is becoming increasingly visual and inter-active. Television, other communication media, books, newspapers, magazines, and more represent themselves. Become enthralled Review for Religious with Mona Lisa's smile live from the Louvre and, with a simple "download" and the right software, make her frown. Hang out on a street corner a world away, where a video camera vigilantly records the ebb and the flow of human traffic. Children in Alaska teach their language to children in the Philippines; grown-up children hook into endless Dungeon and Dragon games, now in shockingly real three-dimension (3-D). Electronic fan clubs of your favorite movie or TV show elevate time-honored institu-tions to a new level of sophistication. Pray with monks of Taiz4, search through the entire text of the Summa Tbeologiae, or down-load the latest statement of Pope John Paul II. A CEO may be able to view a competi-tor's tax returns, or an activist can query who contributed to political-action groups in a specific ziP code, and in what amounts. The very concept of a library as a phys-ical place in town or on campus is challenged by this exponentially increasing repository of information. Yet the Internet is not owned by anyone and therefore is controlled by no one. In a sense, everyone owns it. It is not a large ster-ile machine with whirring reels of tape in the sealed room so often portrayed in movies. The reality of the Internet is far messier and far less organized. At its most basic, it is a network of computers of all sizes and types. These range from very basic computers found in many a child's bedroom to the super com-puters of research institutions and governments. The Internet is the sum total of computers and computer networks voluntarily connected to various telephonic umbilical cords. Information is shared voluntarily. No one has to open one's own computer or every part of ivto the penetrating eyes of others. However, the fact that so many have done so has created, in the incredible space of about five years, so great an archive of information that the phrase "information overload" loses meaning. The Internet blurs traditional distinctions between telephone, movies, books, radio, and more. Traditionally packaged media must scramble and merge. The president of Sony Corporation forecasts integration of the electronics and entertainment indus-tries. And already cable and telephone giants compete fiercely The Internet is the sum total of computers and computer networks voluntarily connected to various telephonic umbilical cords. September-October 1997 Freund ¯ From Parchment to Cybers~ace for who can direct, if not produce and control, the ongoing devel-opment of the Internet. Above all, industry leaders must figure out how to avoid the fate of the Swiss watchmaking industry. Swiss watchmakers, com-fortable with their superior handcrafting, turned their backs on quartz technology for watches. They believed that the new tech-nology would barely ripple their pond. Instead, they found them-selves swept away by a tsunami. Inside five years their market share plummeted, and they became, in business and paradigm-shift literature, a classical example of an industry that refused to read signs of the times. Hooking Up to the Internet The information superhighway has its tolls, and the first is the equipment required to travel on it. One image of being "on line" suggests that only high-powered, state-of-the-art equipment cruises the Internet. In truth, the equivalent expense ranges from the cost of a "rent-a-wreck" to that of a Cadillac, Mercedes, or Ferrari. In addition to the basic hardware of a computer, a monitor, a keyboard, and a modem, one needs access to telephone service. Massive on-line service providers such as America Online, telecommunication, giants such as AT&T, and Internet service providers (ISPs) provide connections to telephone lines for trans-mission of the electronic data that is the life blood of the Internet. One part of the Internet is primarily text based, without "golly gee whiz bang" graphics. Even a relatively ancient computer (three or more years old), which can occasionally be found abandoned at curbside, is enough equipment to take advantage of sometimes free e-mail accounts. (These accounts are supported by advertis-ing revenue much in the manner of commercial TV.) For other applications, newer but still relatively simple equipment suffices. New Technologies in the Service of Our Charisms Once alerLto this technological phenomenon, we need only a little imagination to envision some of the enormous implica-tions and possibilities for ministry. Potential exists for ministries of the church and for individual religious communities. Review for Religious Social Ministry to the Least of Our Brothers and Sisters The information age brings with it a new formof poverty potentially more significant as a social problem than has yet been realized. "Information poverty" imposes a new kind of power-lessness. The needs of the poor have changed. A new measure of wealth is access to information and skills required for survival in an infor-mation age. The poor need more than food, clothing, shelter, and medical care. Alongside these matters that continue to need addressing, new needs not envisioned in earlier times have arisen. More than ever there is need for employable skills, which for the most part can be acquired only through training and hands-on, on-line experience. The shift from an industrial economy to a service and information economy dramatically widens the gap between the "digerati" and the poor. To attend to this new form of poverty, we must heed the repeated calls of Pope John Paul II "to search out more than ever, with boldness, humility, and.skill, the causes of poverty and encourage short and long-term solutions." If the poor are to sit at the table with others, then they have very specific needs. Chief among these would be word-processing skills and access to computers. Some individuals and groups have already begun this form of empowering ministry. Recendy a hous-ing development in Rhode Island became the first in the country to act on this insight: it made computer access and computer-skills training available to all residents. In Philadelphia local activists have arranged for a mobile van to provide access and training in poor neighborhoods. The voice of the poor may be initially through people like us, but ultimately the poor themselves must be empowered to speak with their own voices and take their places at the table that offers a wealth of new information. There will always be a need for bringing food and bandaging wounds. But even Vincent de Paul, the paragon of direct service to the poor, saw in his age the need to do more--to network, organize, and get at root causes. Otherwise the poor are condemned forever to eating the scraps from Dives' table. The Ministry of Evangelization Historical precedents abound for adapting new technologies in the service of ministry. We see the genius of Gutenberg in adapting the bible to the new paradigm, of others using ships as [-//0-7--- September-October 1997 Freund * From Parchment to Cyberspace means of transporting missionaries across the Atlantic and Pacific oceans (although Paul crossed the sea 'much earlier), of bishops fly-ing airplanes in Alaska to visit far-flung parishes. Few TV view-ers of the 1950s have forgotten Bishop Sheen's flourishes and ;his anticipation of the current interest in angels. Without pressing the point, perhaps Father ~Eoughlin might be seen as one of the forerunners of Rush Limbaugh and talk radio. Other Implications and Possibilities for Religious Congregations The Internet brings with it new ways of embodying a reli-gious charism for those who .have eyes to see. The Benedictines of Christ in the Desert have found a new way to live out their charism of working with the written word. The general Benedictine site on the~Web includes the Rule of St. Benedict (the Latin text as well as translations into other languages), with extensive bibliography. General Information includes a world-wide Benedictine e-mail directory, information on internal elec-tions, material on monastic topics, and links to corporate and personal Benedictine sites throughout the world. Developed religious outposts in cyberspace include the Dominicans, the Claretians, the Jesuits, the Franciscans, and ,my own Vincentian family. But, as with all things on the Internet and the Web, the presence of other communities is growing by leaps and bounds. The Dominicans seem to have been among the first to plunge deeply into cyberspace. Perhaps that is why some of them seem on the cutting edge of the latest interactive possibilities of the medium, such as the sound and video very effectively integrated into their pages. The Claretian presence includes a wide range: addresses and telephone numbers of their houses throughout the world, a gallery of pictures of Claretian priests and brothers, descriptions of var-ious apostolates, and a section that educates even novices on the Internet in the details of composing their own Web page. Their best-known magazine, U.S. Catholic, has a Web site. Of course, the Jesuits have turned out in force. One of the keys to their presence resides at LeMoyne College. The site includes links to information about their spirituality, history, and official documents; Jesuit events around the world; the aposto-lates of retreat centers, parishes, and colleges and universities; and faith and justice, art and artists, science and technology. Review for Religious My own Vincentian family is using the Internet and the World Wide Web as a way to connect the more than one million Vincentians in the world. These followers of Vincent, Louise de Marillac, Frederic Ozanam, and Elizabeth Ann Seton can now visit, for history and announcements of common interest, the site of the Vincentian Center for Church and Society at St. John's University and can contact each other directly through an e-mail list that spans the globe with its membership. The Internet has great potential for facili-tating communications, internally and externally. ¯ The recently developed SisterSite promises to be for religious women a major networking resource. The Leadership Conference of Women Religious and the Conference of Maior Superiors of Men are both in the process of developing Web sites. It is not at all inconceivable that Internet usage will become more ubiquitous and utili-tarian than current uses of fax machines. Administrative correspondence could speed instantaneously from provincial offices to houses, and individual members. Apostolates can hold on-line meetings, 'maintain think tanks, and so forth. Imagine the saving in time and money when meetings or at least parts of meetings can be done through videoconferencing, which is already economically feasible even if not of the quality that large corporations can command/Certainly there will always need to be face-to-face meetings. But on-line preparation offers the tantalizing possibility of improving productivity. A frequently heard criticism of cybercommunication is that it devalues human presence. But think of members of congrega-tions who find themselves in isolated assignments far from mean-ingful direct contact with their fellow members. Through the Internet many achieve a new level of connectedness with their brothers and sisters. Similarly, the valuable services ham radio operators perform during times of crisis and in maintaining mis-sionaries' connections to their home bases can now be supple-mented over the Internet without the costs of long-distance telephoning. There are many other reasons to explore ministerial possi-bilities of computer-mediated technology. While the documents The Internet brings with it new ways of embodying a religious charism for those who have eyes to see. September-October 1997 Freund ¯ From Parchment to Cyberspace do not explicitly reference computer-mediated technologies, such advances seem to fall within the call to the church as .expressed by the invitation of Vatican II to read and adapt to the "signs of the times." There are also some very practical reasons. A technologically mediated apostolate can be available and appealing to the old and the young, the healthy and frail. Certainly it engages the young. Increasingly, youth will not only be computer literate but will speak the Internet's language with all the ease of their native tongue. Also, this new technology offers the possibility of people remaining active longer. It can empower the frail and may be the source of second-career energy for those in burnout. As Vincent de Paul faced his increasing infirmities, he would write: "When I can no longer ride a horse, I will take a carriage to continue my work. And when I can no longer do that, then I can write." For a final reason, we need to compete in the marketplace of information. That it is "better to light a candle than curse.the darkness" applies to establishing a positive presence on the Internet rather than merely condemning it or sitting idle as X-rated chat rooms proliferate. As a state lottery ad proclaims, "You've got to be in it to win it." Put differently and more com-pellingly, the sinful, .sad state of our world did not stop God from sending Jesus. Concerns about the state of morality on the Internet should drive us to provide more helpful, interesting, and even entertainifig sites. As one e-mail correspondent of mine expresses it, "The more good places we put on the Internet, the more likely it is that people will find good places to go." Initially I was surprised at how the Internet has given me a much richer sense of the immediacy of the body of Christ in the world. In a matter of minutes I can "converse" with people from all continents whose concerns I share. As we move to a new millennium, we are called to be as visionary and as practical as Vincent and the other giants whose spirit we enflesh in the new millennium. If we are to be effective servants of the poor in the new century, we must explore the new frontier called cyberspace, and we must take advantage of its immense opportunities for networking in service of the poor. Catching the Wave The skills required are rapidly becoming no more complex, Review for Religious arcane, or mystical than those needed to drive a car. Few drivers can design, build, or repair a car; few Internet users these days are the technical whiz kids portrayed in popular media. Investing a few hours in simple computer training is not at all beyond the mechan-ical prowess of the average religious. Witness the rapid develop-ment of Internet use among senior citizens ranging into their nineties. Getting started does not require a long technical explanation. The single most important suggestion, is that you find someone to show you firsthand what all the shouting is about. The Web is not something you read about but experience. The second sug-gestion is like the first: Fearlessly mount the Internet surfboard yourself. Explore any topic that interests you, and prepare to be amazed at what you find. It remains a dry, intellectual concept until you jump in the river and get baptized. The Internet will not solve all ministerial problems. Indeed, it may create some. But it will become an increasingly valuable and indispensable tool. The Internet is another way to gather the folks and tell the story. Only?a few hours of surfing the 'Net dis-closes that there are many seekers hungry for information, for truth. Who will feed them? Likewise, the Internet is another way to serve the poor. A few hours of surfing uncovers valuable sources of information and networks for people who join in common cause for the poor. Some say this paradigm shift is nothing short of a tidal wave sweeping us into the 21st century. Is this hyperbole? Time will tell. Pray let us not find ourselves among the Swiss watchmakers in the world of the gospel! Note Some Web sites, in alphabetical order: Benedictine site (general): http://www.osb.org/osb/welcome.html/ Benedictines of Christ in the Desert Monastery: http://www.christdesert.org/ Claretian site: http://www.claret.org/ Dominican site: http://www.op.org/domcentral/ Jesuit site: http://www.Jesuit.org/ LyO!-- September-October 1997 Freund ¯ From Parchment to Cyberspace Jesuit resources: http://maple.lemoyne.edu/~bucko/jesuit.html/ SisterSite: ¯ http://www.geocities.com/wellesley/1114/index.html/ Vincentian site: http://www.stjohns.edu/vincentianctr/ Icons In her eighties she walked in a recurring drea~m. She saw icons everywhere, sacred figures peering ~at her with holiness shining in their eyes. Their bodies were of angels or saintly figures long dead,. but their faces were young: students she taught in inner city schools, smilin~ back at her with holy content written all over their faces, raising hands of gratitude from their gilded clothed bodies. Thank you, their still lips murmured. Thank you for seeing the divinity written in our small lives. Patricia G. Rourke 502 Review for Religious o FRANCES M. BISCOGLIO Angela Merici: Ursuline Mother and Valiant Woman The scenic route south from Ponte Arche in the Trent]no to ,Desenzano. follows the western shore of Lake Garda and then bends around the corner of the lake. The road winds through olive and lembn trees, tall dark cypresses outlining pastel-colored villas,° and majestic palm trees that arch over the turquoise waters of Italy's largest lake. For.me this trip at the end of a summer vacation was a pilgrimage, one that had its roots in my childhood. How often the Ursuline nuns, who educated me from grade school through college, had told the story of Angela Merici of Desenzano! She ~was the foundress of the first teaching brder of women* in the church, although ironi-cally she herself never attended school. Today the port resort of Desenzano del Garda is a thriving town where old and new converge. Chic bou-tiques and modern shops line narrow ancient streets. In the summertime, tourists relax along shaded benches that face the lake, or gather in the piazza to sip cappuccino .at a caff~ all'aperto in view of the old cathedraL, But even now, more than five. centuries after her birth, the spirit of Angela Merici can be felt here. A street bearing her name leads into the town; a stone plaque marks the place Frances M. Biscoglio wrote about Julian of Norwich for our issue of May-June 1988. Her address is Department of Literature, Language, and Communication; Mercy College; 555 Broadway; Dobbs Ferry, New York 10522. heritages September- October 1997 of her birth. The most dramatic reminder of her presence is a life-size stone statue that dominates the center of the piazza. Mounted high on a pedestal, Angela stands with her head turned toward heaven, right hand over her heart, left hand grasping a tall pilgrim's staff. On the front of the pedestal is written: "S. Angela Merici, Patrona della Cittg." Who was this remarkable woman of the Renaissance whose innovative work in the education of girls spread from northern Italy through the Italian peninsula and into Europe and the Americas and eventually the rest of th'b world? She was born in 1474 to Giovanni Merici and Biancosa Biancosi. Her early days were happy ones, spent on the farm tl~at her father owned and operated. Within several years, however, she suffered the loss of her sister and of both her parents, so that "between the ages of twelve and fifteen she was certainly left an orphan" (Caraman, p. 10). At that time she went to live with her maternal uncle at Salb, returning to the family farm at Desenzano when she was twenty. She was to remain there for the next twenty years. During the obscure years at Salb and Desenzano, two events gready affected her life. At Salb she became a lay tertiary, a mem-ber of the Third Order of St. Francis: Later at Desenzano she had a mystical experience in which she saw~ a company of angels and virgins in procession; among them was her deceased sister, who told her that she would one day found a religious company of women. Angela's commitment to the Franciscan observance continued; she followed a life of prayer, fasting, penance, and works of charity among the families of Desenzano and the neigh-boring towns. In 1516, at the suggestion of her Franciscan supe-riors, Angela went to Brescia to console a friend who had lost her two sons in the war with France. It was here that her apostolate began to take shape, since Brescia at this time had been plunged into the political, moral, and spiritual turmoil that marked the beginnings of the Reformation. Irene Mahoney OSU sketches.the history of this northern Italian city before Angela arrived there: The city to which Angela wa's sent had once beeffa model of vitality and. prosperity, but by 1516 it had suffered the ravages of war and of spiritual decay. Less than four years earlier, the citizens, rising in rebellion against the French forces which occupied the city, 'went down in defeat a~ainst the superior strength of their invaders. Totally out of hand, the soldiers killed and raped and looted . . . and innumer-~ able churches and public buildings were sacked. By the end Review for Religious of the uprising the material resources of the city were in shambles. The spiritual resources of Brescia had long been dissi-pated. Brescia was perhaps no worse than many other Italian cities where the bishop rarely visited his diocese,, where clergy were either absent or living dissolutely, where sem-inaries and monasteries were places of license and igno-rance, (p. 7) In this milieu Angela alleviated the suffering and misery of the poor, the destitute, the orphaned, and particularly the incur-abili of Brescia--those who had contracted the dreaded syphilis, and whom many hospitals would not accept. Her reputation for holiness spread throughout the city, and she was called Suor'Angela (Sister Angela). At this time she began her association with the Oratory of Divine Love, a lay organiza-tion newly established in Brescia by Bartolomeo Stella. With its emphasis on persona! Christian perfection and works of charity, the Oratory was a powerful and "inconspicuous. method of reform" within the church (Waters, p. 17); it also had great influence on Angela. It is note-worthy that the small group of women who worked with her .in the Oratory were those who would later form the nucleus of her company. Angela remained in Brescia for four-teen years, leaving the c.ity only to go on various pilgrimages to Mantua, Varallo, the Holy Land, and in 1'525 .to Rome. Pope Clement VII was so impressed with her work at the Ospedale de'Incurabili in Brescia that he pleaded with her to stay in Rome and work for the luoghi pii (religious institutions) there. Angela declined. By this time her eyes were set toward Brescia, for she knew that the foundations of her company would be rooted there. By 1530 Angela had gathered around her the beginning of the commu-nity: twelve women--some widows, some girls--all of whom wished to spend their lives providing for the people's physical, moral, and spiritual needs. Angela chose to place her group under By 1530 Angela had gathered around her the beginning of the community, twelve women wishing to spend their lives providing for the people's physical, moral, and spiritual needs. September-October 1997 Biscoglio * Angela Merici the patronage of St. Ursula, a legendary third-century British princess martyred at Cologne along with a retinue of young women.

Issue 52.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1993. ; . Contempora~ Living ¯ VOLUME 52 ~ NUMBER5 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 V~Tashington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. SUBSCRIPTION Ra\TES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plusmailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1993 Review for Religious review fr°e[ ig oi us Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Sefin Sammon FMS Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 1993' * VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER 5 contents 646 feature Charisms and Religious Life Elizabeth McDonough OP underscores the importance of understanding charism and living it out in religious life. 66O living heritages Vincent de Paul's Charism in Today's Church Gerard H. Luttenberger CM presents Vincent de Paul's vision of the service of the poor and the search for God in a gospel context. 684 A Franciscan Discernment Experience--Part Two Joan Mueller OSF relates how one Franciscan woman witnessed to the discernment of God's will. 691 Ritual Leave-Taking Edward Foley OFMCap proposes the need and a way of response for a ritual reincorporation of retiring religious leaders. living with challenge 702 Christians and Their Passions James D. Whitehead and Eyelyn Eaton Whitehead encourage a befriending of our passions in order to live a full Christian life. 712 The Reality, Fact, and Fantasy of Incest Suzanne Zuercher OSB encourages spiritual directors to deal with the reality of incest issues even when a large measure of fantasy could be involved. 71.9 Dying--and See, We Are Alive Michael FitzPatrick OFM enters us into his experience of living with advanced prostate cancer. 642 Review for Religious 731 735 741 living sacramentally If Grain Could Talk Virginia Marie OCD presents an imaginative approach to our being grains of wheat. At the Heart of the Eucharist Joseph Allen Tetlow SJ suggests in parable form some focuses for Eucharist which receive less liturgical attention. Beyond Seven Sacraments Elizabeth Normanly SDSH reflects on the sacred reality that lies just under the surface of everyday experience. living consecrated life 745 Religious Vocations: New Signs of the Times Albert DiIanni SM focuses on the values important to young peo-ple as they consider a religious-life vocation. 764 Multiculturalism in Religious Life TodaY Catherine M. Harmer MMS explores how cultural and social minorities might be better integrated in religious congregations. 773 Religious Life---Mystery or Mistake? Annette M. Pelletier IHM draws attention to a link between the mystery of the human fascination with th~ Holy and the embodi-ment of that attraction in consecrated life. departments 644 Prisms 780 Canonical Counsel: Conciliar and Postconciliar Documents on Consecrated Life 787 Book Reviews S~pteraber-October 199~ 643 prisms Deadlines are a part of human living. There are deadlines for renewing driver's licenses. There are deadlines for research reports and for term papers in school. There are deadlines in the printing schedules of journals like this one. November 1, 1993, is the deadline for responses to the exploratory questions raised in the "lineamenta" called "Consecrated Life in the Church and the World"--the document intended to encourage reflec-tion and to solicit information and suggestions for use in the ninth ordinary general session of the Synod of Bishops. Although the Vatican Synod Secretariat has set a clear deadline for the responses it has invited, men and women religious have no deadline on the responsibility to con-tinue the study, reflection, and dialogue among themselves and with their local church people, clergy, and bishop so that we take advantage of this specially graced time for the whole t].ody of Christ. Of major importance in this ongoing discussion is the appreciation for the mystery of the church in its complexity of laity, clergy, and religious and in its hierarchical and charismatic elements. One hopes that a number of the bishops participating in the synod are conversant with the three-volume Council Daybook of Vatican II, which shows that the 1960s church included widely varying theologies of consecrated life. Where religious life fits within the church, God's people, was not a quickly or easily resolved question for the bishops as they formulated the council documents. Neither were there easily-agreed-upon theological understandings of the evangelical counsels and the elements of the life called reli-gious through the ages. Since few bishops who were in the debates and discussions leading to the Vatican II decrees 644 Review for Religious. remain active, there is no easy way to make use of those debates and discussions in efforts to move beyond the limitations and com-promises of the then-new Vatican II thinking. But we should not simply lament that the bishops who will participate in the synod have limited experience and acquaintance with these specialized topics; we should become aware that our own continuing familiarity with the documents and decrees of Vatican II and subsequent documents may be, at best, spotty or even nonexistent. We need to take to heart the sentiment expressed by T. S. Eliot in "Burnt Norton": What might have been and what has been Point to one end, which is always present. How can we make present to ourselves and for our times the richness of the Spirit's gift of consecrated life--to us religious and to the church? As I announced in the January-February issue of this year, Review for Religious for its own contribution to our synod preparation features an article in each issue which suggests a significant theological approach for this age of ours. We hope that all these articles provide material for further personal reflec-tion and community discussion. In addition, Elizabeth McDonough OP in our regular Canonical Counsel department recalls for us a number of the recent ecclesial documents that are relevant to informed dialogue on the topic of consecrated life. We may need to face the question, for example, whether charisms, even corporate ohes, can be timebound. Might whole religious groups, because their charism is incarnated, have a tem-porary lifetime? Should we spell out chastity, poverty, and obe-dience as vows essential to religious life when as vows they have not specifically marked the consecration of a number of religious groups? We might ponder whether evangelical counsels in their nonspecificity say more about what marks religious life. Since both lay persons and the clergy share in religious life, is the lev-eling quality of this identity in the church vital for internal reli-gious- life administration? Any number of questions can and should be raised and seen in the light of tradition and new theological understanding. Whatever the results of the October 1994 synod, our own ongoing preparations as religious and as church promise, beyond any wintery deadline, a springtime of redeeming grace. D~ivid L. Fleming sJ September-October 1993 645 feature ELIZABETH MCDONOUGH Charisms and Religious Life Before Vatican Cou_ncil II, charism was certainly not a fre-quent topic of conversation in Catholic circles, and dis-cussion of the charisma of religious life was relatively nonexistent. Nor does any conciliar document actually employ the word charism in reference to religious life as such, even though various discussions of council partici-pant~ specifically included charism as central to conse-crated life in the church. To be sure, Vatican II documents clearly recognize the charismatic nature of the diversity of gifts of religious life, just as they clearly affirm the pat-rimony or heritage of institutes--that is, their own proper character and functions--as important for the good of the whole church (Perfectae Caritatis, §1 and §8). The council also stressed the need for faithful retention of the spirit and aims of each founder and foundress, as well as for fidelity to each institute's sound traditions (Perfectae Caritatis, §2b). Charisms: Postconciliar Development Pope Paul VI was the first to use the word charisms officially in relation to religious life--in his 1971 apostolic exhortation on the renewal and adaptation of religious institutes after the council (Evange/ica Testificatio, §11). This and other documents during Paul VI's papacy referred Elizabeth McDonough OPis well known to our readers since she serves as the canon law editor. Her address can be found on the inside front cover. 646 Review for Religious to charism as providing a constancy of orientation while allowing for internal growth and change (Evangelica Testificatio, §12). Charism was also presented as the experience of the Spirit by founders and foundresses which was then transmitted to their fol-lowers for continual development in harmony with their role in the ¯ church (Mutuae Relationes, §1 i). In addition, during this time a direct connection was affirmed between the obligation of superi-ors to protect their institute's specific charism and the right of the institute, to maintain an appropriate autonomy'of life and gov-ernment (Mutuae Relationes, § 13). Subsequentl~ the word charism appeared among the norms concerning consecrated life during various stages of the revision process of the Code of Canon Law. In the final version of the Code promulgated in 1983, however, these references were replaced by conciliar terms and phrases mentioning the spiritual patrimony or nature or character or sound traditions of an insti-tute (see, for example, cc. 577, 578, and 631). Some writers sug-gest that the nub of difficulties for religious in the church today is the distifiction, or even the supposed contradiction, between the hierarchical and the charismatic.1 Nevertheless, Pope John Paul II, in a letter directed to the bishops of the United States in 1983, exhorted them to encourage and assist: religious in living faith-fully according to their charism. Shortly thereafter he issued an apostolic exhortation addressed to religious in which he viewed charisms as gifts approved by the church for the good of the church and of the world and as fortifying and fostering religious com-munities in both their life and their apostolic service (Redemption# Donum, §15). More recently the 1990 Vatican Directives on Formation in Religious Institutes reemphasized the importance of their particular charisms to the life and development of the vari-ous religious communities (Potissimum Institutioni, § 16). While it is quite clear that the Second Vatican Council treated consecrated lifeforms more as dynamic, living i'ealities than as static entities defined by legislation, it is also clear that Vatican II attempted to articulate certain theological understandings and practical boundaries within which the various gifts of consecrated life should continue to exist and function. These conciliar positions treated consecrated life as an integral part of the life and holiness of the church itself and saw certain evangelical counsels as peren-nially significant in all historical manifestations of consecrated lifeforms (Lumen Gentium, §44). More than a quarter century of September-October 1993 647 McDonougb ¯ Charisms and Religious Life discussion on the charism or charisms of religious life, however, has still left the notion theoretically elusive and practically debated. The question still arises: What, if anything, can be reasonably articulated and plausibly understood with regard to a charism of religious life? Charisms: Meaning and Expression Any genuine charism of religious life is a pure gift of God for the good of the church. Accordingly, a religious-life charism can generally be described as a window on the gospel, a framed vision of people following Jesus that attracts others to do so in a similar way. They encounter in the charism of great religious founders and foundresses--the Benedictine charism, the Dominican charism, the Franciscan charism, the Mercy charism, the Daughters of Charity charism, and so forth--a phenomenon both intellec-tually and affectively compelling. Indeed, both history and our own background witness to the fact that people often respond to genuine religious charisms at great personal cost and by over-coming a variety of formidable obstacles. Moreover, charisms attract people to engage in an overall task together rather than only or primarily as free agents in independent endeavors. A charism of religious life can be recognized as a lived and living reality. It is a ~eed planted in fertile ground that takes root and grows and multiplies abundantly. It becomes a strong plant that can be transplanted to other climates, other cultures, and other eras. A genuine charism of religious life can also transcend ethnic differences, social and economic classes, and the several generations alive at a giyen time. It enables people .to say, "Yes, we who have such diverse origins and experiences can live together constructively in a consciously Christian manner." A genuine charism of religious life can transcend economic theories, politi-cal preferences, and personal prejudices. Indeed, a genuine charism of religious life has the potential to transform people's lives no matter who or where they are. Charisms are expressed in an entire way of life, a compre-hensive culture, not merely in various norms and particular prac-tices. They are deeply rooted in healthy spirituality. They exhibit sound and supple structures. Genuine charisms have customary practices that are formative of the chosen lifestyle. They also make valuable, constructive ecclesial contributions; for charisms of reli- 648 Review for Religious. gious life do not exist--indeed, cannot exist--merely for their own sake or merely for the sake of those who embrace them. As an indication of this, note that, according to a recent three-year soci-ological study in the United States, membership in a particular community primarily for affiliative belonging rather than for "the mis-sion of the church and the extension of the charism" needs to be addressed by religious institutes if they hope to survive.2 Another significant element of genuine religious charisms is that they live only in people, not in documents. The charisms are gifts to people, and they captivate and transform the recipients. However enamored many religious may be with popular refounding, reweaving, and re-creat-ing trends, there is actually no future for any institute that did not begin with--or has not been successfully grafted onto--a genuine religious-life charism. No amount of well-disposed and concerted effort can create a charism of reli-gious life. Whatever sociological or anthropological sleight of hand well-intentioned people might employ, it simply cannot be done. Historically speaking, in the United States a good number of religious communities (especially of women) seem to have been founded to perform a particular spiritual or corporal work of mercy at times when there were tremendous practical needs and when American bishops actively sought a willing and capable, if not always large, work force. Some groups that were eventually rec-ognized as religious institutes responded to these needs with valiant efforts and heroic virtue. Some others, however, may have begun and responded somewhat superficially, without the deep rooting of a genuine religious-life charism. For a number of them, the Vatican II mandate to return to the gospel and to the spirit of the founder or foundress resulted in their being confronted with salvaging an historically borrowed and circumstantially time-bound way of life that was not founded in a genuine charism and, consequently, was not well sustained by a deep and relevant spirituality. For others, A religious-life charism can generally be described as a window on the gospel, a framed vision of people, following Jesus that attracts others to do so in a similar way. September-October 1993 649 McDonougb * Cbarisms and Religious Lift the conciliar mandate resulted in their being confronted with prac-tices that seemed to have little or no connection with the original charism of their founder or foundress. For still others, the conciliar mandate to return to the original charism seems to have resulted more in selective borrowing of rhetoric to justify desired alter-ations than in a clearer awareness of the original heritage with a view to embracing its authentic beauty and, often, its concomi-tant demands. In regard to the latter, for example, after the council a num-ber of institutes of women claiming Dominican roots readily opted for contemporary participation in the order's preaching heritage, but just as readily deemphasized the order's original heritage of common life, liturgical prayer, and assiduous study of sacred truth. Similarly, after the council, followers of the Mercy charism quickly and rightly reemphasized Catherine McAuley's concern for women, but simultaneously transformed her notion of Mercy communi-ties as separate institutes in the various dioceses into one of uni-fied national organizations espousing global causes--a quantum leap from the "amalgamation" that produced the Mercy Union in the United States in the early 20th century. Or again, at least some postconciliar followers of Francis promptly translated his incar-national theology into a diffuse ecospirituality while managing not to do anything very concrete and practical for Francis's Lady Poverty. Thus, at least in some instances, the Vatican II mandate that religious return to the roots of their charism seems to have stirred up speculation about what a founder or foundress would do if he or she were now alive, with actions sometimes resulting that were contrary to, or at best not very inclusive of, what the founder or foundress consciously espoused and actually did. Charisms: Basic Presumptions Regarding charism, there are certain rather obvious theoret-ical presumptions--and certain practical assessments directly related to them--which might strike some readers as simplistic, but which warrant articulation. The presumptions are threefold. First, either a religious community has a charism or it does not. If a community does not have a charism, it is not going to survive. Second, if a community has a charism, the members understand it or they do not. If a community has a charism but the members do not understand it, the community is not going to survive. Third, 650 Review for Religious ¯ . if a community has a charism and understands it, the members can either strive to live it or they can decline to do so. If a com-munity has a charism and more or less understands it but the mem-bers decline to live it, then that community is not going to survive. More pointedly: if any community lands on the negative side of any of the above disjunctive assertions, then it probably does not merit survival. But note again: this assessment is not directly concerned with the foibles and failures of human endeavors; it is concerned with the importance of the charisms of consecrated life as such. Precisely because charisms are gifts of the Spirit to and for the church, they are too precio~as to be left indefinitely in the trust of people who are heedless of a charism's inherent value or unmindful of their personal responsibility to embrace and live its practical consequences. If members of a community cannot articulate clearly its fun-damental spirituality, if they are functionally unaware of its sound traditions, if they cannot realistically recall or do not meaning-fully practice its formative customs, if they cannot understand its internal workings in keeping with who they are as religious, then the community probably does not have a charism. Although the full meaning of a charism can never be completely specified, any charism has at least some identifiable characteristics and some external lineaments for practical recognition. If members of a com- .munity 'have not a clue what these might be, then--more likely than not--the community simply does not have a charism. And, as disconcerting as the statement may be for the adherents of some contemporary trends, it bears noting again that no one can actu-ally refound or reweave or re-create a charism of religious life. In fact, in contrast to the pelagianism of prevailing literature in this regard, I would suggest that---rather than refounding or reweav-ing or re-creating a charism--if anything, people receive it and respond to it. All that having been said, what then does a charism actually do to the receiver, to you and me and the many other plain human beings who receive it? Expressed in the subjective way that each religious probably has experienced it at some time or another, a vocation to live within a certain religious charism is an over-whelming sense that something quite beyond clear description has dropped into one's life (or into one's hands or into one's heart or into one's head) and evoked a spontaneous personal response such as "Oh, my God, if I take this seriously, it could transform me September-October 1993 651 McDonougb ¯ Cbarisms and Religious Life drastically for the rest of my life." However differently one who has experienced the call to live a religious-life charism might express it, or in whatever circumstances one might have experienced it, this dropped-into-your-lif~ gift--stirs awareness and promises transformation both drastic and continuous. In fact, if received and responded to, radical transformation is precisely what a charism has the potential of accomplishing as a person becomes publicly, consciously, perpetually committed to following Jesus more closely in this fashion and with these people and for this pur-pose- whether after the manner of Benedict or Francis or Dominic or Angela Merici or Ignatius Loyola or Louise de Marillac or Catherine McAuley or other such leaders. Although charisms live only in people, not in writings, nev-ertheless rules, constitutions, and other fundamental documents of a religious institute are important because they schematically and historiographically suggest a lifeform and purpose about which the church confidently says to individuals, "If you follow this form of gospel life, you will not be led astray from your true end." That is the assurance given to religious in recognized lifeforms through the ecclesial approval of specific charisms. The documents of any religious institute, however, are at most merely the best possible articulation of the lived understanding of the institute's charism through its generations of existence. Documents can do no more than suggest the cumulative richness of the lived experience and self-understanding of a community with a charism, for only peo-ple actually embody it. In fact, it can be hypothesized that, if all the documents of a community with a genuine charism were destroyed but its members were to survive, others would still be able to grasp the full import of the charism through the living members. In contrast, if all the members of a religious institute that has a gen-uine charism were to cease to exist but the documents were to survive, others would not be able to grasp the import of the charism or would be able to understand it only superficially. More point-edly: charisms exist, not in dead letters, but in living persons who themselves are formed and informed by the original charism both lived and written down. Charisms: Living Example As an example of a charism being lived, I would suggest' St. Dominic, with his passionate concern for the Truth--not in the 652 Review for Religious abstract, but in the person of Jesus, the Word of God--and with his unmitigated compassion for people, all of whom God loves in his beloved Son. That is to say, perhaps people cannot truly be Dominicans if they claim passionate concern for the truth while disdaining people, especially people who disagree with them--which at times seems a Dominican penchant. Those who embrace the Dominican charism in any age may have no other option--if they wish to continue in existence--but to ardently desire, dili-gently pursue, and freely share the Truth who is Jesus. Moreover, this desire and pursuit and sharing must be accomplished in the manner of Dominic amid the great collective wit-ness of his followers through the cen-turies. This witness includes fearless, respectful encounter with the people in the areas where the gospel needs to be preached. Such evangelization is fun- Radical transformation is precisely what a charism has the potential of accomplishing as a person becomes publicly, consciously, perpetually committed to following Jesus. damental to Dominican apostolic life: compassionately meeting people where they are and being for them channels of God's truth. On one occasion Dominic, on a journey to assist a local bishop in arranging a courtly marriage, met an innkeeper who was "wretchedly deluded" by the then prevalent Albigensian heresy. Dominic was moved to pity--not anger or disdain, but pity--and fervendy began to exhort the innkeeper, zealously discoursing with him through the night with such compelling wisdom that he was moved by God's grace to embrace the faith. There we have, per-haps, a Dominican paradigm for confronting the wretched delu-sion and incredible confusion of any era. As Dominicans we are obliged to be moved to pity, to plead emotionally, and to exhort fervendy--not merely with abstract propositions--so that the grace of God can be operative in others' lives. As Dominicans we must both believe and embody the truths we speak---so that the way we handle the attractiveness of truth is itself attractive. Dominicans must speak, not merely with their own wisdom or their own spirit, but with God's. Note, too, the circumstances of Dominic's encounter with the innkeeper. His sojourn at the inn occurred during his travel for the September-October 1993 653 McDonougb ¯ Cbarisms and Religious Life purpose of helping to arrange a wedding, a wedding that, for rea-sons quite beyond the control of the bishop and himself, did not come to pass. There may be a further message here for Dominicans, namely, that we should be willing to be surprised by, to respond to, and to work hard at tasks God sets for us by sud-denly rearranging the apostolic endeavors we ourselves had planned. Indeed, the specifically Dominican way of evangeliza-tion today might well involve pity, exhortation, and argumentation in the face of delusion, with an eye to people's eventual conversion in graced ways that are not of our doing and are not even the out-come of the kind of apostolic project we have dreamed of crafting. Let us return now to the matter of religious-life charisms as such. In this age in which people are incredibly confused about numerous personal, communal, national, and global problems; in the midst of great diversity of religious belief; after the break-down and fragmentation of many traditions; in the context of eco-nomic upheaval~ and political disagreement--in all this the living witness of any genuine religious-life charism matters. It announces uniquely, with specific and recognizable characteristics, that "fol-lowing Jesus" still has meaning precisely as a commitment to some-thing beyond whatever pragmatic tasks each religious is involved with here and now. This is not to suggest that the charism of a religious institute flourishes wherever any isolated member may be doing with dedication something worthwhile. Rather, the causal-ity is just the reverse: transcendent awareness and inner conviction and commitment manifest themselves to others only through the lived and living reality of the total charism, which is a grace received and, as such, not an energetic project of one's creative imagination. Charisms: Basic Sources What qualifies and practices, then, can religious look for in the experience and response of a founder or foundress to enable them to live their religious charism constructively today? The sugges-tions derived from basic sources include firm spiritual founda-tions; sound intellectual knowledge; tested advancement in virtue (perhaps reflective of the terribly old-fashioned notion that habits of doing good are significant); getting along honestly and chari-tably with others; responding to the graces presented in one's par-ticular calling; and constant reliance on God in all endeavors. The 654 Review for Religious way of life religious embrace is supposed to provide spirituality, customs of prayer, practical living arrangements, and opportuni-ties for ecclesial service. These things, these qualities, these prac-tices are desperately needed today as always for the sake of ecclesial service. God did not dabble with becoming human in Christ Jesus, nor did the recipients of founding charisms dabble with the gifts entrusted to them. Religious today who have embraced any charism of religious life in the likeness of great, sainted founders and foundresses simply cannot allow themselves the luxury of dabbling with the gift. If there is a certain urgency about what religious are about in the church and in the modern or postmodern world, there is also the possibility that religious can betray this urgency and bury their charisms just as, in the gospel parable, some buried the talents given them. If religious do this, the charisms will be given to others, for they are sim-ply too important to the vitality of the church for God to allow them tb be wasted. We religious can betray "and bury our charisms in intellectual arrogance. We can betray and bury our charisms in the comfortable patterns of recent and not so recent complacency. We can betray and bury our charisms in rampant individualism. We can betray and bury our charisms in personal or communal refusal to engage others in honest relationship. We can betray and bury our charisms by perpetuating a politically advantageous or per-sonally comfortable status quo. We can betray and bury our charisms by fashionable tinkering with fundamentals. We can betray and bury our charisms in person.al preferences and unre-flective compromise. We can betray and bury our charisms to the detriment of the transcendent realities to which we have been called and for which these gifts have been entrusted to us. And perhaps we not only can do these things, but actually have done them, for a variety of worthwhile or not so worthwhile reasons. Regarding the charisms of religious life, it is difficult to over- Religious today who have embraced any charism of religious life in the likeness of great, sainted founders and foundresses simply cannot allow themselves the luxury of dabbling with the gift. September-October 1993 655 McDonough * Charisms and Religious Life estimate the importance of initial and ongoing formation. Human beings as they are, religious are always beginners in something, but initial formation is especially crucial. Introducing people to a religious institute's specific charism, it makes or breaks the char-acter of that cqmmunity. Formation provides spiritual founda-tions; it imparts intellectual knowledge; it encourages progress in virtue; it provides opportunity for enhancing relational abilities; it implants or improves specific skills for ministry; it conveys the importance of humble reliance on God; it fosters a willingness to have everything disrupted for the sake of the Truth who is Jesus. Sound initial and ongoing formation is indispensable to the char-acter of the institute as such and, of course, indispensable for each member as well. All members should become increasingly imbued with the founder's or foundress's initial gospel insight. Formation in consecrated life requires a certain comprehensive submission to the heritage of a particular community precisely so that one can grow into it. In other words, it involves a conscious and practical surrender to the community's time-tested and effi-cacious ways of bringing the novice into its specific charism. It involves a lifelong endeavor to live according to this charism, and one's initiation into this life must necessarily include assiduous study of the charism's roots while experiencing its lived reality. And, if anything is clear from the gospel and from the great sainted founders and foundresses of religious institutes, it is that ministry requires prayer, a continuing relationship with the person of Jesus. This cannot be feigned, and it is the source of one's Christian identity within a religious community's own charism. As a matter of course, initial and ongoing formation provide encounters with our countless limitations. Our supposed matu-rity is challenged, as are our all-too-easily-acquired attitudes of superiority and complacency. Initial and continuing formation does this for us within our common life, which is relentlessly con-frontational. To be sure, confrontation is not common life's pri-mary purpose, but--as many religious have noticed--it has that characteristic nevertheless. Formation and confrontation remind us of our responsibility, our response-ability, regarding the charis-matic gift we have received. Common life continually reminds us of the smallness in each of us that has not the ability or the humil-ity- or the willingness to be bothered--to address some particu-lar smallness in oneself or in another. The old-fashion~d term for this is pusillanimity, the opposite of magnanimity, greatheartedness. 656 Review for Religious Charisms: Ongoing Personal Response How we live together and why we live together--indeed, if we live together at all these days--is not insignificant for reli-gious. We can respond to these questions in three basic ways: com-pliance, identification, and internalization. Compliance is an ¯ appropriate response to things with which one agrees, or acquiesces in because they are not worth contesting (daily schedules, maga-zine subscriptions). Identification is an appropriate response to things which connect us in some external way with a province or a congregation (attire, social customs). Internalization is an appro-priate response of making the elements of a particular charism one's own (one's understanding of the vows and one's practical ways of living them). Practical experience tells all of us religious that initial and also later experiences of fervor in religious life readily wane. What happens? Perhaps, at some time during the years, little by little, without our noticing it, we replace various appropriate responses of compliance, identification, and internalization with inappro-priate ones. In short, we get them mixed up. Some religious seem to prefer being identified more by their external attire (conve-niently donned and doffed) than by their interior spirituality (dif-ficult to acquire, but then probably difficult to conceal). Some religious seem to prefer being judged more by compliance to a schedule (objectively measurable) than by unselfish concern for those among whom they minister (difficult to assess). Probably all of us get these responses mixed up sometimes, some more, some less. And, unless I am quite mistaken, with rare exceptions we all learn eventually how to compromise, how to work the system for some personal advantage. Later on we may just forget our ear-lier enthusiasm for the life because we have become quite weary of it. We may find ourselves living our religious life from plateau to comfortable plateau, staying on each one as long as possible. Why? Perhaps--in wretched delusion, if you will--we some-how think we can "arrive" at being a religious in the context of the charism we have embraced. We settle into a place, consciously or unconsciously, and then no longer let the charism bother us in our complacent niche. For some, the "arrival" may have been when they once received the habit. For others, arrival meant first or perpetual profession or acquiring a particular academic degree or community responsibility. For still others, arrival may occur when they are recognized as professionally successful or feel personally September-October 1993 657 McDonougb ¯ Cbarisms and Religious Life renewed. In clerical communities the reception of orders might signify arrival for some. Whatever the point of one's arrival might be, we are inclined then to think, "Aha, now I have arrived. Now I do not have to hold the precious gift of the charism in my heart and say, every day, 'Dear God, if I ~ake this seriously, it can trans-form me drastically for the rest of my life, beginning today.' I do not have to do that anymore because I have arrived." Perhaps most religious at one time or another are tempted to think that they have, indeed, reached some acceptable point of arrival along the way of life they once set off on. The problem with such an "arrival" i~ that now we prefer to see the charism as inadequate ratheF than ourselves, for it asks us to do something that our complacency finds distasteful. Indeed, once we feel we have arrived, we fall prey to the temptation of having recourse to our charism merely as a storehouse of rhetoric to justify our doing what we have already comfortably settled upon doing, not what God might ask of us on the breath of our charism. It is at our own point of "arrival" that we religious need oth-ers to jolt us, jolt us out of our complacency. If we are lucky, they will. This is one of the reasons why we need common life, with its prayer, formative customs, and each other. We need every gener-ational cohort, every race, every national heritage, every ethnic grouping, every province, every viable local community. We espe-cially need ongoing encounter with each and all of those who have genuinely committed themselves to the practical manifestations of the charism and are willing to be captured and recaptured by it while striving faithfully to live it. Together we need to prevent our religious-life charism from being indiscriminately assimilated into the dominant trends of any culture, even as we strive to bring it to bear creatively on the problems of every culture. While we religious must admit that each of us pronounces vows in the first person singular and will one day answer to God for our living of them in the first person singular, any religious should also be able to say that he or she does not have to engage in this lifelong com-mitment alone. While each religious alone can become the person he or she is called to be, no religious is called to do this in rugged isolation. In short and in sum, any religious community either has a charism or does not; the members either understand it or they do not; and they either strive to live it or they do not. The future of religious life belongs neither to those who fondly reminisce about 658 Review for Religious yesteryear nor to those who self-prophetically dream about the next millennium. It belongs, rather, to those who here and now, simply and conscientiously, together live their response to the charism that captured them, to the God who has promised to transform them into the likeness of Christ. Notes ~ David J. Nygren and Miriam D. Ukeritis, "The Religious Life Futures Project: Executive Summary," Review for Religious 52 (1993): 13. 2 Ibid, 48. A Stop on Tour The occupants of the tour bus have all Been boning up on the saints: they circulate Little Lives snippeted for easy reference, easily Codified with the cathedral cities we visit. And here, in another cathedral square, obedient to the drone of tour guide, with pigeons overhead We ring the barrier where another stake Claimed its saint. Not Joan the toast Of the Dauphin in his cups, but like Joan The toast of the fire when it hiccups explosively, Fracturing the elemen.ts of wood, fracturing hers. Did she choose what to wear to be burned? Undressed quick enough by the faggots" fingers, She is scandalously handled in her nakedness By their probing thumbs, raped by fire. The fierce wounds she screams to, destroy The nerve endings, uncover bone. You would Have thought the cry of the burning to be i~tenser; The whine of flames is higher. Not yet char Underfoot, sainted, shrined, a Little Life Snippeted, her smoke ascends. Dizzily, then as now, The pigeons circle the cathedral spires. Picking Our cobbled way, we move onward with the tour. Nancy G. Westerfield September-October 1993 6$9 GERARD H. LUTTENBERGER Vincent de Paul's Charism in Today's Church living heritages St. Vincent de Paul (1581-1660) is well known as "Father of the Poor" and "Light of the Clergy," more by the for-mer title than by the latter. He founded a men's and also a women's community: the Congregation of the Mission and the Daughters of Charity. Both communities are, by constitution, oriented toward ministering to the poor. It is this ministry that, at least in contemporary thinking, ori-ents the spiritualities of their members. Priests of the Mission are "to follow Christ, evangelizing the poor.''1 Daughters of Charity are "given to God for the service of the poor.''2 All members of each community are to live simply, like the poor, and to consider the poor as their "lords and masters.''3 The call to dedicated and active concern for the poor rings clearly in contemporary church teaching and cur-rent spiritual theology. The church at Medellfn under-scored the fact that "action for justice is constitutive of the gospel." It speaks of Jesus' preferential option for the poor. The fourth chapter of Luke clearly speaks of Jesus being anointed in order to proclaim good news to the poor. And the Acts of the Apostles (see, for example, 2:42-47) indicates that the early church continued with like con-cerns. Gerard H. Luttenberger CM teaches at Immaculate Conception Seminary in Huntington, New York. His address is The Vincentian Community; 104 Anstice Street; Oyster Bay, New York 11771. 660 Review for Religious It is clear, however, that neither continued proclamation of the call for justice nor individual concrete effort directed toward the corporal and spiritual betterment of the poor is sufficient to mobilize and sustain the church in this endeavor. Deafness afflicts some; disappointment, discouragement, and burnout debilitate others; the lessening of spiritual energy and vision constitutes a threat to all who labor for justice. In the face of today's challenges for greater justice, the church needs a spirituality that shares the dynamic vision of Christ and promotes with active love the human and Christian betterment of all. The church needs a deepened communion with God in the labor of love, a labor that is ener-getic yet peaceful. This article deals with the service of the poor and the search for God in a Christian and gospel context. More specifically, it deals with the ways Vincent de Paul lived these gospel mandates by drawing on a more original and deeper life, which he had ifi Christ and in God. Christlike vision and life were gifts which God and God's Word, Jesus, gave him in the flow of his prayer, dis-cernment, and active ministry. This vision served to inspire mis-sionaries then and serves to inspire apostles in the church today. This essay, then, presents Vincent de Paul as a model for, and a challenge to, all who aspire to minister to the poor in the con-temporary church. At the same time it provides a critical analysis of the spirituality that motivated and sustained his energetic labor. The method will be rather direct and simple. Vincent's own words (letters, conferences, the Common Rule of the Congregation of the Mission) will be used, along with the record of his interaction with others (his own directors, persons he served, priests he worked with) and an account of the events of his life and decisions he made. Spiritual Adolescence: Vincent's Teachers Vincent de Paul, like us all, was a child 0f his time. He under-stood God and the ways of holiness in the light of the spirituality of "the French School.''4 This spirituality was characterized by a quest for a deepened mysticism, a dedication to searching out and aligning oneself with the will of God, an emphasis upon faith in contrast with reason, and in some circles a renewal in apostolic service.~ Vincent de Paul was touched by these movements, par-ticularly through Benedict of.Canfield, Francis de Sales, Pierre de B~rulle, and Andr~ Duval. September-October 1993 661 Luttenberger * V~ncent de Paul's Cbarism Today Benedict of Canfield (1562-1619), an English Capuchin who took refuge in France after his conversion from Puritanism, had a decided effect upon his God-seeking contemporaries through his much-read work Rbgle de perfection riduite au seul point de la volonti divine.6 Its theme, that Christian perfection is achieved as one becomes, in the words of Henri Bremond, "almost wholly absorbed into God and his absolute will,''7 and its directives regarding the ways of uniting oneself to that will (emptying oneself in active obe-dience to God's law.and in self-denial) provided a starting point for the reflections of many spiritual-minded persons, among whom was Pierre de B~rulle. It was in the company and through the guidance of B~rulle that Vincent himself absorbed Canfield's doctrine. Francis de Sales (1657-1622), the well-known bishop of Geneva, became acquainted with Vincent when the former vis-ited Paris in 1618-1619. De Sales came to respect Vincent so much that he entrusted to him the direction of a group of Visitation nuns, a community he himself had established. Francis de Sales's spiritual way focused on God's will, which he experienced deeply as love, salvific love.8 The will of God is sav-ing love for de Sales. This clear and warm thought affected one's understanding of God and of God's relationship to humankind. Fear of God necessarily gave way to utter confidence in God's saving love. This saving love became the final rubric for Vincent's understanding of the mystery of God, the person of Jesus, and the relationship of both God and Jesus to the world. Pierre de B~rulle (1575-1629), a highly spiritual man as well as a statesman and diplomat, served Vincent as a spiritual counselor during Vincent's early life and ministry.9 For B~rulle, God's will was perfectly expressed in the incarnation of Jesus. Btrulle was struck deeply by the richness of God's life and will as revealed in Jesus. Contemplation of the mysteries of Jesus' life, as well as of the very being and person of the incarnate Son of God, was for him a clear way of losing oneself and of being drawn into communion with God and God's will. Christians, therefore, would achieve holiness by binding themselves to God in and through Jesus, by reliving his "conditions" or mysteries. (B~rulle was powerfully influenced by having made the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius and by the teaching of Teresa of Avila, which had reached France by way of the Spanish Carmelites.) The self-abandonment of searching for and subjecting oneself to the will of God, therefore, became more concrete and more explicitly Christian in Btrulle than it had been 662 Review for Religious in Canfield; but the will of God remained central for understanding the life of Jesus, the way of Christian holiness, and the mystery of God.10 Leaving the contribution of Andrd Duval for later, we might sum up the influences of Vincent's teachers in this fashion: 1. It is God, in God's salvific will, who guides us and all his-tory to God's Self as its end. In adhering to God's will and allowing God to work God's saving love among us, we will attain holiness and happiness. We will know the joy of being perfectly one with God, who is our only master (Canfield). 2. In seeking to align ourselves with God's salvific will, we are invited to perfect ourselves in love (de Sales). (Vincent ulti-mately developed this line of thought into a spirituality of action, stating that this love is not to be merely an affective love; rather, it is to be an effective love.'1) 3. God has sent the Son, who shows us the way to the Father, all the while revealing to us the Father's love. Jesus came "to act and to teach," to be himself one who lives in perfect union with the divine will and one who teaches us how to do the same (B~rulle). These three sets of ideas were important in Vincent's spiri-tual and ministerial development. They contributed to his quest to meet God in an active life of service. A brief sketch of that life and ministry will offer insight into the ways in which Vincent used and also developed these resources; it will illustrate how central and effective these perspectives were in the development of a person united to God in active ministry. Young Adulthood: God's Will and the Discovery of Grace Born in a small village of France in 1581, Vincent de Paul was ordained in 1599 at eighteen years of age.~2 Though the Council of Trent'had stipulated twenty-four ~s the minimum age for ordi-nation, Vincent's early ordination was not singular in late-16th-century France. Priesthood provided a comfortable career for young men of his time, and he was not an exception to such aspi-rations. He hoped for a benefice out of which he would be able to provide for his family's needs. Apparently he had little success until, through the influence of Bdrulle, his spiritual director, he obtained a position at the parish of Clichy in 1611, when he was thirty years old. He found the people poor but docile, alive in faith, and eager for God's word. It September-October 1993 663 Luttenberger ¯ Vincent de Paul's Cbaris~n Today was a significant moment of conversion for him; he realized that his ambition for a "good benefice," for a life of comfort, had been a block to his happiness and his ministry. He came to know that he could be happy laboring for poor and simple people. I was a country vicar [he later recalled]. I had people who were so good and obedient in doing whatever I asked them that, when I told them they ought to go to confession the first Sunday of the month, they never failed. They came and confessed, and I saw from day to day the good they did their souls. This gave me such consolation, and I was so pleased about it, that I used to say to myself: "My God! How happy you are to have such good people! I don't think the pope is as happy as a vicar with people of such good heart." 13 Vincent's stay in Clichy, however, was short-lived; in 1613 Bdrulle advised him to surrender the parish to an administrator and take up the task of being tutor for the family of Philippe de Gondi, a wealthy count. Vincent was obedient to his spiritual director; such obedience had become his way of life. It flowed from the spiritual doctrine that he had been absorbing from B~rulle and several other serious priests who gathered frequently to dis-cuss spirituality and the. plight of France. Vincent's tasks at the Gondi household included, not only teaching the children, but ministering to the poor who lived and worked on the Gondi estates. He learned firsthand the religious plight of these people. One problem concerned confession. Many peasants feared confessing their sins to local priests who knew them well. The problem was compounded by the fact that some priests were so ignorant that they did not even know the words of absolution.'4 Hence, people would allow years to pass without seeking to be unburdened of their sins. Vincent soon began coun-seling a general confession as a remedy. In 1617 Mme. de Gondi, during a sojourn at her ancestral castle at Folleville, visited a sick man at Gannes, a few miles dis-tant. She recommended that he make a general confession to Vincent. The sick man was so relieved after confessing that he told her that he would have been damned had he not had this spir-itual opportunity. Mme. de Gondi was so distressed that she urged Vincent to preach on confession the following day. The result was that his words stirred the entire parish of Folleville to repentance and he had to call in the Jesuits from Amiens to help him hear the people's confessions and to catechize them.'S 664 Review for Religious What does this brief sketch tell us of Vincent's spirituality? It serves to I~ring into relief the major dynamics out of which his more mature spirituality and his effectiveness in ministry devel-oped. Attentiveness and responsiveness to God's will in all its man-ifestations appear to have been paramount for him, and fidelity to his spiritual director helped him develop these dispositions and align himself with God. This spiritual pattern filled him with life, energy, and zeal for the spir-itual growth of others. It enabled him to "move with God" in ministry. And it led him to a deepened sense of the spiritual, a sense of God's presence, power, and graciousness greater than he seems to have expected. For what exhilarated Vincent in Clichy was the effectiveness and power of God's sav-ing love among his parishioners. What uplifted him on the Gondi estates was his perception of God working con-version among persons whom others thought to be too insignifi-cant and too resistant to God's love for their ministerial concern. One could say he was filled with an awareness that God was truly alive in a little country village and among the forgotten people of a vast country estate. A second dynamic, deeply characteristic of Vincent's way, also emerges from this sketch: his spirit was inclined toward action. He moved quickly when he was convinced that God had made known the divine will. He responded without hesitation when he realized people needed the ministry of a confessor; he sought help when the number of penitents was too great for one person. He was a man of action. These two dynamisms emerged in definite circumstances. If we are to understand Vincent, it is of singular importance to note that his early experiences of God in union with his active min-istry took place among the poor, the most neglected. Focused upon everyday needs that drew most of their energy and atten-tion, they stood as a challenge to any priest hoping to bring them God's word and love. Already aware, at least in principle, of the limitlessness and inclusivity of God's love, Vincent became con- He was filled with an awareness that God was truly alive in a little country village and among the forgoften people of a vast country estate. Septentber-October 1993 665 Luttenberger ¯ Vincent de Paul's Charism Today vinced ,that priests must be willing to endure these people's inat-tentiveness and resistance and must rely heavily upon God, and only then should try actively to mediate God's care. Such an approach to ministry proved fruitful, not only for the poor, but also for him. A word needs be said about the unity of these two dynamisms. While fidelity to the divine will remained central for Vincent, he seems to have begun to experience the union of two distinct aspects of that.divine will: (1) The will of God that he wished to be one with and obedient to was at the same time (2) a will alive and active, leading others to accept God's love. In surrendering him-self to ministry foi" the poor, Vincent immediately found himself deeply one with and a mediator of that will. The two dynamisms of his spirituality were in fact truly one. Middle Years: Mysticism in Action In the early days of his ministry, Vincent, under God's inspi-ration, drew the outlines of a way to God and a way of serving others. We will trace three ways in which that outline developed in subsequent years as his spirituality gradually deepened, broad-ened, and became fine tuned. 1. The Founding of the Congregation of the Mission Shortly after the.powerful experience at Folleville, Vincent left the Gondi household at B~rulle's suggestion and obtained a parish in Ch~tillon-les-Dombes, far from Paris in the southeast of France. Very upset, Mme. de Gondi sent Vincent letters from many persons of rank, including her husband's brother Henri de ¯ Gondi, who was bishop of Paris, and B~rulle himself. The latter did not ask Vincent to return; he did, however, describe the lady's dis-tress and asked him to consider returning. In December 1617, after consulting with B~rulle, Vincent came to an agreement with the lady that he would remain as chaplain to her household until her death. He preached missions throughout her lands and at times called upon the assistance of other priests. This did not end Mme. de Gondi's worries, however. What would happen after her death? She persuaded her chaplain to seek the services of a religious community which might commit some members to this work, in perpetuum. No community would agree. So she, together with her husband and Jean Francois de Gondi, ~trchbishop of Paris (who had succeeded his brother Henri), urged 666 Review for Religious Vincent himself to select several priests to labor with him in this task. For their labors they would receive 45,000 francs and a place to live (the Coll~ge des Bons-Enfants, which the archbishop him-self provided). On 17 April 1625 Vincent signed a contract pledg-ing to establish within a year a community of six priests to preach these much needed missions, six priests who, going from village to village at the expense of their common purse, would devote themselves purely and entire.ly to the salvation of poor people, to preach, to instruct, to exhort, and to catechize these poor country folk and to incline them to make a good general confession of their whole past life, and without taking recompense in any manner what-ever, in order to distribute freely the gifts they have so lib-erally received from the hand of God?6 The expansion of Vincent's apostolic labor to include a con-gregation of collaborators reveals the development of the dynamic that had governed his earlier life. Responsiveness to God's will was still his focus as he carefully came to the decision to accede to Mme. de Gondi's request. But of special value at this point are the elements of the discernment process that led him to this deci-sion. First among these elements must stand his awareness of need, the need of the spiritually neglected people of the Gondi estates. Further, the concurrence of the Gondis' own sense of urgency and the negative responses of the other religious orders led Vincent to entertain the possibility that God wished him to respond to this need. But he was also cautious. Although he had strong desires to respond affirmatively, his conviction was that God would not be found in strong, ardent movements. He expressed that conviction sometime later (1642) in ~ letter to Bernard Codoing, a priest of the congregation: The spirit of God proceeds directly and always humbly. Remember that you and I are subject to a thousand outbursts of nature, and recall what I told you about finding myself, in the early stages of the project of the Mission, with it con-stantly on my mind. That made me wonder whether the affair sprang from nature or from the evil spirit, and I purposely made a retreat in Soisson so that God might be pleased to remove from my mind the pleasure and eagerness I was expe-riencing in this matter. God was pleased to answer my prayer in such a manner that, by his mercy, he took them both away September-October 1993 667 Luttenberger ¯ V~ncent de Paul~s Charism Today and allowed me to be in the opposite dispositions. I think that, if God is granting some blessing to the Mission and I am less a subject of scandal to it, I attribute it after God to this fact. I wish to remain in this practice of neither concluding nor undertaking anything while I am caught up in these ardent hopes at the prospect of great benefits?7 One of the criteria, therefore, which Vincent employed to dis-cern the will of God and to arrive at firm decisions in life and minist~ was the experience of a spirit of inner peace in the face of proposed undertakings. And prayer, even periods of lengthy prayer and retreat, became the avenue by which he arrived at (or was given) such dispositions (and, with them, knowledge of God's will). Finally, before making his commitment to the Mission, Vincent sought counsel, this time not from B~rulle (from whom he had separated himself)~ but from another priest and professor at the Sorbonne, Andr~ Duval. The counsel he received is reported sim-ply and directly by Duval's biographer: On hearing him speak of the spiritual necessities, in partic-ular of the need for religious instruction in the rural parishes, of the hunger for the word of God in the people, of the ben-efit produced by these instructions, and of the blessing which they would receive, the venerable Andr~ pronounced these words: "The servant knowing the will of God and doing nothing will be flogged greatly." These words were scarce.ly uttered than Vincent de Paul felt himself interiorly moved and drawn by grace, and con-sidered them as an order from the divine will, which, having made known to him the needs of the poor, called him to go throughout t.he country. It was necessary to announce the Word of God, to preach, to catechize, to hear confessions, to administer the sacrament of penance, to allay discords, and, in a general way, to offer to the people living in the coun-tryside all kinds of spiritual services, without being a burden to anyone, without inconveniencing either the people or the priests, but rather bringing them help, and that with their assent and with the permission and the mandate of the bish-ops. As a result, he decided to give himself effectually to this work . It was only with this last element, the approbation of another person whom he judged objective and wise, that Vincent felt assured that he had attained God's will through prayer and dis-cernment. The way was complex; the outcome was sure. Vincent's fidelity to this process produced two profound effects 668 Review for Religious upon his spirituality. First, his experience of ministry, and partic-ularly his ministry in behalf of the poor, became filled with the experience of God. He knew God's presence in his resolves and in his actions; he found God alive in the persons whom he served. His labor of discernment and his responsiveness in service constituted his way of coming into, and living in, union with the God who was drawing all into communion through Christ. For Vincent, ministry itself became the expression of what might well be called a "mysticism in action." Second, this process drew Vincent close to Christ. Though Vincent left us no explicit record from before 1625 of his move-ments toward and with the Lord, his words written shortly after this time indicate the prominence of the life and example of Christ in his discernment and ministry. It was through Christ that he learned total reliance upon God's will. And it was in Christ that he found himself alive to God and alive for others.19 In this latter vein he wrote to one of his first priest confreres, Antoine Portail, urging him to humility as.he gave a series of missions: Keep in mind that we live in Jesus Christ through the death of Jesus Christ and that we must die in Jesus Christ through the life of Jesus Christ, and that our life must be hidden in Jesus Christ and full of Jesus Christ, and in order to die as Jesus Christ we must live as Jesus Christ. Now, once these foundations have been laid, let us surrender to contempt, to shame, to ignominy, and let us disclaim the honors people pay to us, the good reputation and the applause they give us, and let us do nothing that has not that end in view.2° For Vincent it was in Christ that faithfulness to God and self-less love of others found their unity. Discernment of God's will and responsiveness in service were framed by devotion to Christ and the mysteries of his life. Vincent was drawn, not simply to mysticism in action, but rather to a Christian mysticism in action-- to an experience of God through and in Christ. in an active life of faithfulness and service. 2. Commitment to Ministering to the Clergy Active and programmatic labor for the spiritual well-being of the clergy soon followed as a focal concern of the saint. It had become clear to him that much of the spiritual impoverishment of the people of the country had its roots in the impoverishment of the clergy. He had discussed this much earlier (before going to Clichy) with people who had grouped together out of concern for September-October 1993 669 Luttenberger ¯ Vincent de Paul's Charism Today the spiritual renewal of France, among whom were B~rulle and Fathers Jacques Olier (founder of the Sulpicians) and Adrien Bourdoise (founder of a community, the priests of Saint-Nicolas-du- Chardonnet). Later Mme. de Gondi spoke with him about it. And finally he experienced its effects firsthand at Folleville and Ch~tillon.2t It was through the instrumentality of bishops that Vincent actually began ministering to the clergy. In July 162 8 Augustine Potiers, bishop of Beauvais, got the idea that a retreat for ordinands that would include instruction on the duties of their state in life might be helpful. He asked Vincent to draw up a program for the retreat and to conduct it for his candidates that very September in Beauvais. Vincent responded and the effort met with success. In February 1631, Jean Francois de Gondi, the same arch-bishop of Paris who in 1625 had sponsored Vincent's establishing a small community of priests to conduct missions for the poor people of the Gondi estates, decreed that all his ordinands would have to make a two-week retreat before their ordination. He asked Father Bourdoise to conduct the exercises, but the priest refused. He then asked Vincent to conduct them. He too objected, stat-ing that the goal of his community was to preach country mis-sions. The archbishop finally obtained the services of a doctor from the Sorbonne, but the next year, after uniting the Priory of Saint-Lazare with the congregation, he imposed upon Vincent's community the obligation of conducting these retreats. In 1639 he required all ordinands residing in Paris (not only those belong-ing to his diocese) to make these exercises. Soon, at the recom-mendation of Bishop Potiers, other dioceses adjacent to Paris began sending their candidates to these retreats, the success of which was quite pleasing to Vincent. One can notice some interesting modifications in Vincent's approach at this time to discerning God's will. He saw the needs of the clergy and connected them with the distress of the poor people. He also saw that others who might respond to these needs had refused, a fact that would raise the question whether God wished Vincent himself to meet these needs. Finally, he was being invited by ecclesiastical authority (which he respected in discern-ing God's will) to respond to these needs by a means which, early on in Beauvais, had proven effective. Yet he resisted. Why? It is possible to argue that he himself was not yet free enough from human and even selfish limits to hand himself over to God's 670 Review for Religious will in all things. It is possible that his love for the poor and the missions crowded out other possibilities for responding to God's will. But neither of these possibilities seems to have been the case. What seems to have been holding Vincent back was his fidelity to the contract he had made with Mme. de Gondi in 1625. By it the community was bound to conduct missions for the country people, a time-consuming task. Ministering to the clergy would usurp some of the time that Vincent had already pledged (by contract and therefore in justice) to these mis-sions. That had appeared to him then as God's will and he had bound himself and the community to that for life. The fact that he could care for the spiritual needs of the people even more effectively by securing for them good priests did not seem, at least in the first instance, to stir him. It took the command of the arch-bishop to move him and his community into ministry for the clergy. Only this command offered him suf-ficient certitude that he was standing before God's will in taking up this new endeavor. Later on, however, he viewed this ministry as clearly being given by God. Development in his thought and convictions fol-lowed upon the expansion of the ministry itself. After the success of the retreats, he recognized the need for offering ongoing sup-port to the newly ordained. Thus, in 1633 he developed the pro-gram known as the Tuesday Conferences, a weekly meeting of diocesan clergy with a member of the community for prayer and reflection. And in 1636 he opened the doors of the Coll~ge des Bons-Enfants to young men who felt called to the priesthood. (This first house was for children, a minor seminary; in 1642, however, Vincent focused more on older candidates, supplying a program for major seminarians, an approach to formation which he had come to judge would be in the long run more effective.)22 The change in Vincent's view seems to have come, in part at least, by the reflections he had with his friend Father Bourdoise in the early 1630s. The latter had stated, "To give a mission is like giving a poor starving man a meal, but to set up a seminary is to aim at feeding him all his life.''z3 Vincent himself saw work for 'To give a mission is like giving a poor starving man a meal, but to set up a seminary is to aim at feeding him all his life.' September-October 1993 671 Luttenberger ¯ Vincent de Paul's Charism Today the clergy and the establishment of seminaries as a necessary com-plement of the congregation's work on the missions. Later Vincent regarded work for the clergy as equal to the con-gregation's call to evangelize the poor;24 he counseled his priests never to refuse to minister to the clergy on the pretext of giving missions to the poor;2s and, in the Common Rules of the institute, he listed formation of the clergy as one of the three purposes of the community.26 His retrospective understanding of his and the con-gregation's involvement in this ministry led him to tell his confreres: So, in the beginning, the company focused its energies only on itself and on the poor. At certain times of the year, it with-drew into its own houses, and at others it went forth to instruct the poor country people. God permitted nothing else to happen among us. But in the fullness of time he called us to contribute toward the formation of good priests, to give good pastors to parishes, and to teach them what they should know and doff7 Vincent's taking on the formation of the clergy as a God-given calling to him and the congregation offers a further insight into his spirituality: his way to God and way of ministering, always wed-ded to one another, were marked by a readiness to expand as well as by a fidelity to original intuitions and callings. There always remained possibilities for further invitations from the Lord; there was always the need for ongoing discernment. Having appreci-ated God's saving love as absolutely inclusive, Vincent was also compelled to include all suitable and necessary means of fostering the advance of that love. For him this was the only way of allow-ing the richness of God's wisdom and love to reach deeply into him and to reach others adequately through him. Having earlier experienced God in ministering to the poor, he came to experience that same God in greater depth and in more far-reaching ways as he entered ministry to and formation of the clergy. 3. Collaboration with Women: The Daughters of Charity Vincent was not a foreigner to the gifts of women in ministry. Early on, in 1617, while at Ch~tillon-les-Dombes, he became con-cerned about a family whose children and servants had fallen ill. For some reason the family found itself without even basic needs. In a sermon Vincent recommended the family to his congrega-tion and found his people more than ready to respond. As a mat-ter of fact, he discovered that a number of well-to-do women were eager to extend their charity to the needy. He provided them with 672 Review for Religious some guidelines, and the group became known as the Confraternity of Charity and served as a model for many similar groups that he established in villages where he gave missions. Soon, however, he discovered that peasant girls assisted these needy persons, especially in menial tasks, better than the well-to-do women did. They nursed the sick poor, instructed youngsters, and cared for orphans, refugees, the aged--in a word, the most abandoned. They too needed guidance, however, so that they would persevere in their ministry. The question soon posed itself: Where would he find capable mentors and guides for these devoted women? Toward the end of 1624 or early in 1625, a woman named Louise de Marillac sought spiritual direction from Vincent. She was a woman qf tender conscience, deep faith, and generous spirit. She lived a disciplined life of prayer while providing care for her sickly husband and difficult son. Before her marriage she had entertained thoughts of entering the convent, but had been dis-suaded by her spiritual director, who judged that she could not withstand the rigor of religious life. Vincent's early impressions of Louise were of her as an earnest, but dependent and scrupulous, woman. She often found herself troubled if he were not available to her for guidance. Concerns about the state of her soul, worries about her family, and recurring desires to enter a religious community after her husband's death (21 December 1625) were making her anxious and fretful. In her Vincent saw a person in need of judicious spiritual care, but also one quite gifted by God. Vincent's relationship with Louise and his advice to her are marked with the same spiritual convictions that we have noted in his own approach to God and to ministry: He counseled that she wait for God and not anticipate God's designs. But, more signif-icantly, it is in his letters to her that we read, for the first time, of his manner of relating to Christ and of how he saw the spiritual dynamics he lived by exemplified in Christ's life. He guided her to seek to live in Christ, encouraging her to model her life by the example and attitudes of Christ, in all moments and turns of events. For example, when, on the day after her husband's death, she con-fided to Vincent that she wished to serve God more freely, he told her not to make plans for the future until she had spent much time in prayer and reflection. He held her from what he regarded as premature commitments with the following counsel: September-October 1993 673 Luttenberger ¯ Vincent de Paul's Charism Today Always ho~ior the inactivity and the unknown condition of the Son of God. That is your center and what he asks of you for the present and for the future, forever. If His Divine Majesty does not let you know, in a way that cafinot be mistaken, that he wants something else of you, do not think about or let your mind become engrossed in that other matter. Leave it to me; I shall think about it enough for both of us.28 Given the fact that Louise was persistent, Vincent often found himself reiterating such counsei. On another occasion he wrote: Oh! what great hidden treasures there are in holy providence and how marvelously our Lord is honored bythose who fol-low it and do not try to go ahead of it. I recently heard one of the great men of the kingdom say that he had learned this truth through his own experience. He had never undertaken anything on his own except four things. Instead of their work-ing out well for him, they had turned out to his detriment. Is it not true that you wish, as is quite reasonable, that your servant not undertake anything without you and your order? And if that is reasonable from one man to another, how much more so from the Creator to the creature!29 Nevertheless, Vincent saw the need of helpers, active women helpers, who would visit the Confraternities of Charity in various villages to sustain them spiritually in their efforts. And Louise felt herself strongly moved in prayer toward direct service of the poor. On 6 May 1629 Vincent sent her to the Confraternity of Charity serving in Montmirail, recognizing, among other things, that the contemplative life would be fraught with dangers for her, while a life of active service best responded to the gifts God was giving her. His conviction that this decision was of God shines through his let-ter to her before her departure: I am sending you the letters and the report that you need for your journey. Go, therefore, Mademoiselle, go in the name of our Lord. I pray that his divine goodness may acc9mpany you, be your consolation along the way,., your strength in your toil, and, finally, that he may bring you back in perfect health and filled with good works.3° The journey of Vincent and Louise, however, was still to be made, with remarkable benefit for the church. Vincent had real-ized much earlier that a community of women who would sup-port one another in common faith, common life, and common dedication to the service of the most neglected would have advan- 674 Review for Religious tages like those of a community of priests. Perseverance in full-time Christian ministry suffered many threats without such support. Louise, too, desired community, her initial desires for religious life never having died. But once again Vincent moved with great caution, even slowness, in counseling and pursuing this develop-ment. His delay came partly from his awareness that the only way for women to live community life in his day involved being cloistered. For women to live an active community life in service of the poor would be regarded (particularly by the Holy See) as a radical inno-vation. Vincent necessarily had some fear that cloister would be imposed upon the women who would seek approval for the reli-gious community which he and Louise desired. The greater reason for his delay, however, was his desire to be assured that the plan to live their aspirations in community orig-inated in God. Resisting the urgency which Louise felt, he coun-seled: You belong to our Lord and his holy mother. Cling to them and to the state in which they have placed you until they make it clear that they wish something else of you.3~ And later he wrote to her: I beg you once and for all not to give it a thought until our Lord makes it evident that he wishes it, and at present he is giving indications to the contrary. We want a number of good things with a desire that seems to be of God, and yet it is not always from him . You are trying to become the ser-vant of those poor young women, and God wants you to be his own, and perhaps of more people than you would be in that way. And even if you were only his, is it not enough for God that your heart is honoring the tranquillity of our Lord's? Then it will be fit and ready to serve him. The king-dom of God is peace in the Holy Spirit; he will reign in you if your heart is at peace. So, be at peace, Mademoiselle, and you will honor in a sovereign way the God of peace and love.32 After all the hesitation, the searching and prayer, Vincent finally became assured that the movement toward ~ommunity was of God. He wrote to Louise in August or September around the year 1633: I think your good angel did what you told me . Four or five days ago, he communicated with mine concerning the char-ity of your young women. It is true; he has prompted me to Septentber-October 1993 675 Luttenberger ¯ Vincent de Paul's Charism Today recall it often, and I gave that good work serious thought. We shall talk about it, God willing, on Friday or Saturday, if you do not write to me sooner.33 And shortly thereafter, on 29 November 1633, the company of the Daughters of Charity was established. These developments clearly underscore Vincent's consistency in the way he understood God, understood himself and others, and attempted to respond to God. Resting in, seeking light from, and moving with God's spirit--moving in harmony with the man-ifest will of God--remained the way of Vincent and provided him with the energy he so clearly reveals in his labor for the kingdom of God. And finding inspiration and support in Jesus and in his way of life not only guided Vincent's development, but also was a con-tinued theme in his counseling of others. These developments, moreover, reveal in Vincent a humility and truth by which he recognized that the designs of God are far greater than one person or even one congregation can fathom or implement. Hence, he was unafraid to take up a multiplicity of works and to collaborate with a variety of persons in order to bring his inspiration into reality.34 In his journey with Louise de Marillac, one sees particularly his recognition that the gifts of women are needed for the building of God's kingdom.3s Only by blending his work and that of the congregation with the work and talents of his feminine counterparts would God's overflowing love spread through the world.36 The fostering of God's active, saving will among all persons demands many works, many talents, and many persons of varied gifts. Sharing of the gifts and collaboration in the vision would be the rule. The movements of God and God's will, clearly and prayerfully discerned, would be the energy. And the life of the church, the inclusion of the poor within its company, fully alive in God's Spirit, and the spiritual vitality of the church's ministers and servants would be the fruit. Final Years: Mature Reflections and Legacy Though Vincent's life and ministry' continued for nearly two and a half decades beyond the establishment of the Congregation of the Mission, beyond the first involvements in ministry to the clergy, and beyond the early solidification of the women's com-munity, the Daughters of Charity, the basic lines of his spiritual-ity had, with these events, already been drawn. During his final 676 Review for Religious years, he was able to articulate his vision with precision and clar-ity, providing disciples living then and others yet to come with the lines of a way to God and a life in Jesus that had proven ben-eficial for himself. Prayerful discernment of and fidelity to the will of God remained in first place in Vincent's final years as they had been throughout his life. Speaking to his "little company," he reminded them: The. most perfect man will be the one whose will is most conformed to that of God. Perfection consists in so uniting our will to God's that his and ours are, strictly speaking, but one and the same will and nonwill; and he who most excels on this point will be the most perfect.37 And a short time later he told his congregation: We know that our works are worthless if they are not living and animated by God's will. This is the advice of the gospel, which causes us to do everything for the sake of pleasing him. We must greatly praise his Infinite Majesty for the grace he has given to the company of undertaking this all-holy and ever sanctifying practice [of the will of God]. Yes, from the beginning we have all desired to enter into this way of the perfect, which is to honor our Lord in all our works.3s Given this experience and these convictions, he summed up his mind and counsel for all future generations in the Common Rule of the Congregation of the Mission: A sure way for a Christian to grow rapidly in holiness is a conscientious effort to carry out God's will in all circum-stances and at all times . It is in this way that we can imi-tate Christ, the Lord . He tells us this himself: "I always do what pleases the Father.''39 Harmony with God's will wa~ still, in Vincent's mind, of pri-mary import. Holiness and fruitfulness in ministry depended upon it. Ministry, evangelization, and .service of the needy were of spe-cial significance to him precisely because they fostered that will. The teaching of Benedict of Canfield was, to the end, in evidence in his explicit spiritual understanding. Second, Vincent left all a legacy of action, particularly active and effective concern for the poor. In an oft-quoted counsel to his priests, he exhorted them and us: Love God, my brothers, let us love God, but let it be with the strength of our arms and the sweat of our brow. For very September-October 1993 677 Luttenberger ¯ I~ncent de Paul's Charism Today often such acts of love of God, of complaisance, of kindness, and other similar affections and interior experiences of a lov-ing heart, although very good and very desirable, are never-theless very suspect when a person is not led to the practice of effective love. "In that," says our Lord, "my Father is glo-rified because you give account of much fruit." And this is why we must be very careful, for there are very many who, having a well-composed exterior and an interior filled with great love of God, stop there; and when it comes to action and they find themselves in occasions of doing something, they stop short. They flatter themselves with their inflamed imaginations; they are contented with some pleasant con-ve'rsations which they have with God in prayer; they even speak like angels; but, apart from that, when it is a question of working for God, of suffering, of mortifying oneself, of instructing the poor, of searching out the wandering flock, of loving one who lacks something, of receiving kindly illness or some other misfortune, alas! there is no longer anyone there, courage deserts them. No, no, let us not delude ourselves: Our whole task consists in working.4° In this strong conviction, one sees the long-standing influ-ence of Francis de Sales. Responsiveness to God's will, for Vincent, did not mean abstract contemplation. It meant listening to God in order to serve God's designs for the good of humankind, espe-cially the most deprived. Finally, however, it was the life, words, and example of Jesus that formed the context of Vincent's action as well as his search for God's will. It was the way of Jesus, and living in Jesus' Spirit, that offered Vincent the ideal and the power to unify this responsive-ness to God and this outpouring of ministerial love in a life filled with God. Only toward the end of his life do we find developed reflection on the powerful way living in the Spirit of Jesus had fashioned the spirituality of the saint. In a conference he exhorted his confreres: We must put on the Spirit of Jesus Christ. O Savior! O Gentlemen! There you have a grand undertaking, to put on the spirit of Jesus Christ! This means that in order to become perfect and to assist people effectively, to be of good use to ecclesiastics, we must labor to imitate the perfection of Jesus Christ and strive to attain it. It also means that of ourselves we can do nothing. We must be filled and animated by this spirit of Jesus Christ!41 And that there be no doubt regarding his understanding of this undertaking, he continued: 678 Review for Religious What is this spirit of our Lord? It is a spirit of perfect char-ity, filled with a marvelous esteem for the Divinity and with an infinite desire to honor him worthily. It is a knowledge of the greatness of his Father, which admires and extols it unceasingly. He has so high an esteem of it that he paid him homage with everything that was within his sacred person and which came forth from it; he attributed everything to him; he was unwilling to say that his teaching was his own teaching, but referred it to his Father: "My teaching is not mine, but that of the Father who sent me.". And his love, what was it? . . . Could there be any greater witness of love than by dying out of love in the way that he died? . . . His humiliations were but love, his work but love, his sufferings but love, his prayers but love, and all his interior and exterior operations were but reiterated acts of love . There you have a description of our Lord's spirit, with which we must be clothed; it is, in a word, having always a great esteem and a great love for God.42 Hence, the mature Vincent placed the following of Jesus as the fundamental goal of the congregation and as the basic theme running through the Common Rule of the institute. Sacred Scripture tells us that our Lord Jesus Christ, sent into the world to save mankind, began to do and to teach. He did the first when he perfectly reduced to practice every kind of virtue; and the .second when he preached the gospel to the poor and gave his Apostles and disciples the knowledge nee-essary for guiding people . Therefore, the end of the con-gregations is: (1) to strive for one's own perfection by exerting every effort to practice the virtues which the sovereign Master has been pleased to teach us both by word and example . 43 The counsel of Pierre de BSrulle, the constant call to live one's life immersed in the mysteries, of Christ, was woven throughout Vincent's life and permeated his teachings and counsel. He left no ambiguity for his followers about the basic ways of under-standing God and living in God's presence. Christ was that way of understanding; Christ was the way of life. The rule of Benedict of Canfield, the spiritual insights of Francis de Sales, and the spiritual doctrine of B~rulle had been lived and distilled so as to provide a guide and a source of inspi-ration to Vincent and to all who would make the journey of seek-ing and responding to the divine will that Vincent knew to be actively pursuing and transforming all persons, especially the poor. This he believed was the revelation of God in Jesus, and it was September-October 1993 679 Luttenberger ¯ Vincent de Paul's Charism Today the privilege of the Christian to walk with Jesus in experiencing and mediating that same salvific love. As a res~ult, Vincent described himself and his mission as one with the Lucan Jesus: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me; to proclaim good news to the poor, he has sent me.''44 His life's task, and the charism he has left us, was and is one of discerning that Spirit in prayer and community so as to mediate it effectively as servants of God's kingdom, especially among the poor. His prayer and discernment, his life and min-istry, were deeply characterized by patience and caution, on the one hand, and by selflessness and courage, on the other. Both sets of virtues were necessary to lead Vincent to be confident that he knew God and God's will in his decisions and in his labors. Both were needful for him to experience God--Christ--and God's unfolding salvific initiative in his own day. In being faithful to these gifts, he found himself faithful to God's will, to walking in Christ, and to mediating God's love, particularly to the poor. In being faithful to these gifts Vincent's own way of making the spiritual journey--he became a true mystic, living out what is rightly called a mysticism in action. And in showing us these gifts and this journey, Vincent de Paul also shows us a charism, a gift of the Spirit, which seeks expression in the church of today. Notes ~ Constitutions and Statutes of the Congregation of the Mission, 1984, article I. 2 Constitutions and Statutes of the Daughters of Charity of Saint Vincent de Paul, 1983, article 2:1. 3 Conferences to the Daughters of Charity, 14 June 1643 and 11 November 1657; Extract of a Conference to the Congregation of the Mission, January 1657, St. Vincent de Paul. Correspondance. Entretiens. Documents (hereafter SVDP), ed. Pierre Coste (Paris: J. Gabalda, 1920- 1925), 9:119, 10:332, 11:393. The first three volumes of this compila-tion have been translated into English by a team of sisters and priests, members of the Daughters of Charity and of the Congregation of the Mission. This English translation (hereafter ET) bears the title Saint Vincent de Paul. Correspondence, Conferences, Documents (Brooklyn: New City Press, 1985-). 4 For a recent analysis of this spirituality, see the introduction by William M. Thompson to Bdrulle and the French Schook Selected Writings, ed. William M. Thompson, trans. Lowell M. Glendon SS (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1989), pp. 32-76. See also Michael Buckley, "Seventeenth Century French Spirituality: Three Figures," in Christian Spirituality, III: 680 Review for Religious Post-Reformation and Modern, ed. Louis Dupr~ and Don E. Saliers (New York: Crossroad, 1989), pp. 28-32. s Buckley, pp. 28-32. 6 On this work and its influence, see Bucldey, pp. 29-30, and Luigi Mezzadri CM and Luigi Nuovo CM, "The Directors of St. Vincent," ed. and trans. John W. Carven CM, Vincentian Heritage 6 (1985): 173-175. 7 A Literary History of Religious Thought in France, trans. K.L. Montgomery (New York: Macmillan, 1930), 2:219. s Buckley, pp. 32-41. 9 For the influence of Pierre de Bdrulle upon Vincent de Paul, see Bremond, 3:193-222. ,0 Buckley, pp. 42-53; Mezzadri, pp. 177-178. ~ See below, note 40. ~2 The historical material is taken from Pierre Coste, The Life and Works of Saint Vincent de Paul (hereafter LW), 3 vols., trans. Joseph Leonard CM (Westminster, Maryland: Newman Press, 1952). ,3 Conference on the Practice of Asking Permission, 27 July 1653, SVDP, 9:646. 14 Mme. de Gondi told Vincent (whom she had enlisted as her spirio tual director), that when she was young she herself had had such a painful experience. ~s Conference on the Observance of the Rules, 17 May 1658, SVDP, 12:8; Extract of a Conference on the Mission Preached at Folleville in 1617, ibid, 11:4. _ ~6 Contract of the foundation of the Congregation of the Mission, 17 April 1625, SVDP, 13:198. 17 De Paul to Codoing, 1 April 1642, SVDP, 2:246-247 (ET, 2:278). ~s Cited in Mezzadri, p. 176. ~9 See the letters of Vincent written during the years 1626 to 1633 to Louise de Marillac, cited in section three below. 2o Letter dated 1 May 1635, SVDP, 1:295 (ET, 1:276). In a similar, but less lyrical, manner, he counseled Jean Barreau, a brother of the con-gregation who, for some reason.unknown to u~,.had been imprisoned: "It is with great sorrow that I learned of your present state, which is a sub-ject of affliction for the whole company, but of great merit for you before God, since you suffer even though innocent . Our Lord, having descended from heaven to earth for the redemption of men, was also imprisoned by them. How blessed are you, Monsieur, to be treated the same way! . . . The more our actions and our sufferings resemble those of Jesus in this life, the more they are pleasing to God." Letter to Jean Barreau, 16 September 1650, SVDP, 4:81. 2~ A parishioner of Chfitillon recounted that Vincent's predecessors in that parish had kept women of ill repute and had frequented bars and gambling houses (Report of Charles Demion on the Sojourn of Saint Vincent at Ch~tillon-les-Domb.es, SVDP, 13:50). September-October 1993 681 Luttenberger ¯ Vincent de Paul's Charism Today 22 Letter to Bernard Codoing, in Rome, 13 May 1644, SVDP, 2:459 (ET, 2:505-506). See also SVDP, 2:152-154, 188 (ET, 2:171-173,214). 23 Citation taken from Coste, LVV, 1:259. 24 Letter to Louis Rivet, priest of the congregation, missioned in Saintes, 19 December 1655, SVDP, 5:489. 2s In a letter to a priest of the Mission, Luc Plunket, missioned at Saint-Meen, Vincent cautioned: "Do you not know, Monsieur, that we are equally obliged to form good ecclesiastics as to instruct the country peo-ple? And that a priest of the Mission who will work at one but not the other is only half a missioner, because he is sent to do both?" 21 May 1659, SVDP, 7:561. See also the conference of 6 December 1658, SVDP, 12:85. 26 1:3. Vincent composed these written regulations for the congrega-tion only after some thirty years had passed since the company had been established. 27 Conference gi~)en on 6 December 1658, SVDP, 12:84. 28 SVDP, 1:62 (ET, 1:54). See also LV¢', 1:204. 29 SVDP, 1:68-69 (ET, 1:60). See also LW, 1:204. 3o SVDP, 1:73 (ET, 1:64-65). See also Lgr, 1:207. 31 SVDP 1:79 (ET, 1:71). See also L/4z, 1:227. 32 SVDP 1:113 (ET, 1:111). See also LI.V, 1:227-228. 33 SVDP, 1:218 (ET, 1:216). See also LW, 1:230. 34 Though the works detailed thus far are the most well known of Vincent's endeavors, his energy and docility to the invitations of God led him to undertake and sponsor many others. These included labor in for-eign missions, aid to provinces devastated by war and famine, retreats for the laity, care of orphans and of the aged, participation in the coun-cil charged with the appointment of bishops, and the defense of the church against Jansenism. 3s Toward the end of his life, Vincent continued to affirm the impor-tance of collaboration with women in ministry. In a conference con-cerning the goals of the congreg~ition, he counseled his priests and brothers: "Was not he [the Son of God] pleased that women should be among his companions? Yes. Did he not direct them to perfection and to the assistance of the poor? Yes. If then our Lord has done this, he who did so much for our instruction, are we not persuaded that we are doing well in imitating him in this? . . . You know that even then [in the Apostolic era] there were deaconesses who did wonders in the church of God, . . . and thus God was served equally by both sexes; and shall we think that it does not belong to the Congregation of the Mission to procure that our Lord be honored and served by both?" Conference, 6 December 1658, SVDP, 12:86-87. 36 Though Vincent's labor for the establishment of the Daughters of Charity has been the principal focus of this section, he also entered into collaboration with other groups of women in various works of ministry in 682 Review for Religious the church, including the Visitation nuns and the Ladies of Charity of the H6tel Dieu, to mention a few. 37 SVDP, 11:318. 38 Conference on Conformity to the Will of God, 7 March 1659, SVDP, 12:154. 39 Common Rule of the Congregation of the Mission, 2:3. 40 Extract of a conference concerning the love of God, undated, SVDP, 11:40-41. 41 Conference on the Members and the Works of the Congregation, 13 December 1658, SVDP, 12:107-108. 42 Ibid, 108-109. 43 Common Rule, 1:1. ~ Luke 4:18. See SV'DP, 12:3-5, 79-81, 84-87, which are among many places where St. Vincent cited this gospel text. The Next Day The next day he sought her out. How to comfort a criminal's mother? He sensed her pain. Why did the temple priests want him killed? Had he really raised that man to life? She saw him scratching at the splinters in his hands, took them tenderly in hers and worked them free. The silences between their words grew longer. Here was home, yet time to leave. She touched a budding leaf. Thank you, Simon--her voice a whisper in his ear. Please come again. You've questions in your eyes that need to know. Yes, come tomorrow. Louise Finn CND September-October 1993 683 JOAN MUELLER A Franciscan Discernment ExperiencemPart Two MdY assignment was to teach graduate courses in spiritual irection during the coming school year and also in the following summer. In these courses I wanted to offer students an opportunity to explore discernment within the context of various charisms. Hoping to find reading material that might guide the study of discernment in the Franciscan tradition, I searched through various periodicals.~ In the 1984 volume of Review for Religious, I found "A Model of Discernment: The Experience of a Franciscan.''2 In the article Margaret Halaska OSF describes the process of discernment she used in making the transition out of community leadership and into a new form of ministry. The process involved personal prayer along with discussion and pondering with thirty people who knew her well. From these thirty, ten came to an evening of reflection that helped her refine her understanding of call. The result was not an outline of future ministry goals, but rather the next step, a year's renewal that would give her space to reflect on the path the Lord was choosing for her. The haunting leitmotif in her article is "personal poverty": "One of the elements of Franciscan discernment is the recognition of one's personal poverty and the' awareness that individuals are Part One of this article, by Margaret Halaska OSF, appeared in Review for Religious in 1984. Joan Mueller OSF teaches in the Christian Spirituality Program at Creighton University and is assistant professor of systematic theology at St. Francis Seminary; 3257 South Lake Drive; St. Francis, Wisconsin 53235. 684 Review for Religious inserted into a total world--one that is larger than oneself.''3 And again, "Recognition of personal poverty is one Franciscan princi-ple necessary for discernment. For me, this was very acute''4 (empha-sis mine). I cannot remember reading anything previous to this that res-onated so deeply within me that I needed to meet the author. While reading the articles, I felt as though I were listening to my own heart. When I looked at the author's profile, I found that Margaret belonged to the community whose motherhouse was across the street from where I worked. It was a strange and won-derful coincidence. One of my friends belonging to this community came the fol-lowing Saturday for supper. I told her of my excitement at read-ing the work of one of her sisters and begged her to provide me with an introduction. My friend started to cry. She told me that Margaret had been in administration with her, that they had been best friends, and that not long after her year of discernment she was found to have a brain tumor. It was evident that my friend was still grieving deeply. I assumed Margaret was dead and felt terrible disappointment. I asked when she had died, only to learn that she was still alive. She was in a nursing home in the city. I found her on the psy-chiatric floor of the nursing home sitting on the side of her bed. Her neck seemed paralyzed, so I sat on the floor to enable her to see me. I immediately told her my excitement about her article. We had a wonderful conversation. I promised to come back---and kept going to see her three, four, five times a week for the next year. Our visits were in some sense mundane. I would come from work and help her eat supper. Then I would help her wash up, brush her teeth, and go to bed. The mundane took a lot of time. Meals were usually a two-hour project. Helping her to brush her own teeth could take over a half hour. After Margaret was in bed, we would pray together. She would struggle to formulate a few words of prayer and then would be content to rest in God. One evening as she was preparing for bed, a eucharistic minister came in with Communion for both Margaret and me. Margaret wanted some time to pray, so we postponed getting her into bed. After receiving Communion we sat next to each other for a half hour in silence. I then opened my eyes and said, "Margaret, are you sleeping?" She said, "No, are you?" I said, "No." After another half hour of silence, we had the same September-October 1993 685 Mueller ¯ A Franciscan Discernment Experience conversation. After another half hour I said, "Margaret, you need to go to bed." Margaret's prayer was so simple. She tried to pray for every-one by name, but found that the world was too big. God gave her a solution to this dilemma: Mary. Margaret understood that it was Mary's role to stand before Jesus and tell him everything that Margaret needed--for the world and for herself. Prayer for Margaret was simply watching Mary and Jesus in this exchange. As her illness progressed, her voice became weaker. We communi-cated more and more through our eyes and through everyday tasks. I learned that feeding and washing hands were ways of listening to her heart. Her heart became more and more transparent. Once, when coming home after an evening with friends, I was reflecting upon my day. In contemplating the evening's interac-tion, I recognized that my contribution to the conversation was pri-marily about Margaret. I saw myself mirrored in the newly converted Francis, who went about the town of Assisi claiming that he had fallen in love with a most beautiful lady, Lady Poverty.s I also realized that, as with Francis, my excitement about this strange Lady was a mystery to my friends. This did not daunt my enthusiasm. I began to contemplate what was drawing me to Margaret's bedside day after day. It Was her poverty. The next day I simply told her, "I feel as though I have found Lady Poverty." She smiled. My experience was confirmed. Margaret's brain did not measure time very well. At first I thought this was a deficiency. As I listened, however, and got more in touch with her world, I realized that this sense of eternity was part of her beauty. With Margaret there was no past, present, or future. Rather, everything was a relationship. If we parted with a disagreement, what needed to be pondered and prayed about after-wards was the still-present feeling that all was not well between us, not who said what yesterday. What was important was the sister-hood between us. St. Clare would have agreed with this way of using time.6 Margaret talked to her food. The doctor gave her psychiatric medication for this habit. As she let me listen more and more to her heart, however, I too learned how to talk to my food. Margaret had been interested in the relationship between Native American spirituality and Franciscan spirituality. She learned from Native Americans how to listen to the movement of the Spirit in all of cre-ation. She saw all creation as enspirited. I invited a sympathetic 686 Review for Religious . nurse to see the mystery. Eventually Margaret was taken off the medication. As her sickness progressed and I helped feed her, we both understood the Spirit of the food. Margaret taught me how to see. For her, colors portrayed the deepest mysteries of life. She often expressed her heart simply in terms of color. Most of her last days were either purple (symbol-izing sorrow tinged with joy) or orange (joy tinged with sorrow). There were also four black days. The black days started on Christmas day. Margaret did not respond. Her eyes were a blank stare. I thought she was dying. Four days later one of the nurses pulled me aside to tell me that Margaret's condition was probably caused by depression, not by something directly physical. The nurse wanted me to try something. I went back into the room, closed the door, took Margaret's arm--the only extremity that was still working--and started to exercise it. I started growling and talking about how unfair life was. Her eyes made immediate contact. Life did seem unfair. She was only sixty years old. She was talented and bril-liant. She was so full of energy for the mis-sion. She was dying. The next day Margaret was radiant. She told me that she understood what the black days were about. She whispered, "They were about the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit." She said this over and over as if she was contemplating the mystery. I understood that she had been purified in the darkness for Trinitarian communion. I rejoiced and I wept. During the last days Margaret loved to be with those of us who loved her. She did not want to go back to the hospital. God asked of her even this wish. She died in the emergency room. I remembered the story of how Clare and her sisters wept at the death of Francis. Now I understand their tears.7 After Margaret's death a sister in her community gave me a copy of the manuscripts of her poems and essays. In one she recounts that during her year of renewal she had a dream in which she came upon a farmhouse. At the door was Lady Poverty. She Most of her last days were either purple (symbolizing sorrow tinged with joy) or orange (joy tinged with sorrow). September-October 1993 687 Mueller ¯ A Franciscan Discernment Experience realized in her dream that she truly loved and desired this Lady. At the same time another image, a beggar woman with crippled feet, hounded her prayer. She knew that God was inviting her to become this beggar woman; she resisted, hoping the beggar woman would go away. Finally in faith she said yes to the mystery. 688 Margaret's Story and Franciscan Discernment The discernment process that Margaret recounted in her arti-cle began in dialogue with others, in prayer, and in truthful assess-ment of her own gifts and the call of her heart. The discernment ended with an invitation to "live in a wigwam." This meant that Margaret was to spend her sabbatical time as a pilgrim exploring her call to personal poverty, to Native American spirituality, and to her love of the Franciscan charism. Practically, this translated into "a month's experience in a Franciscan Life Institute; extended time in Assisi; and ~xtended time on an Indian reservation.''8 This year of renewal was only the first fruit of Margaret's dis-cernment process. Her call was to personal poverty. None of those she discerned with were to take her into the depths of this mystery. Rather, she was introduced to the beggar woman with crooked feet. During her sickness Margaret became this beggar woman, dependent upon the thoughtfulness or thoughtlessness of others. As her illness progressed, she became crippled like the beggar woman of her prayer. Her legs and feet contracted so badly that they could not be straightened even after she died. Margaret's yes, her responsive determination to continually discern the will of God in her life, did not lead as she expected to a new form of ministry. Though this was a deep disappointment for her, heryes led her to surrenderat deeper and deeper levels every-thing of her heart that was not purely love. As I write, I expect to return to Creighton University for the summer and to teach discernment again. My students and I will explore the richness.gf discernment in the Catholic spiritual tra-dition and then concentrate on St. Ignatius of Loyola's Rules for Discernment. Without these I would not have been able to enter into Margaret's mystery. I have, however, learned from her that, after following the rules and the processes, one must simply sur-render to the Mystery. And so the Franciscan will not be surprised to find poverty the guide here. As Ignatius suggests in his third way of humility, surrendering Review for Religious to the mystery of the will of God invites one to choose poverty.9 This choice implies powerlessness, disrespect, abuse, joy, and free-dom. I took Ignatius on faith before I met Margaret. Now I have seen with my own eyes. As Margaret embraced the mystery of becoming the beggar woman, she became more and more grate-ful. She saw everything as an undeserved gift of God. Two squirrels playing outside gave her great delight. For her, all creation was a means by which she could praise God with gratitude and simple joy. It was Lady Poverty who brought her this grace.~° The mystery of discernment, the mystery of surrendering to the will of God, is both frightening and awesome. It is indeed "a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God" (Heb 10:31). Yet, as I watched Margaret suffer day after day, I saw that the glory of her spirit far surpassed her suffering. I learned through her that God cannot be.outdone in generosity. Margaret radically said yes to the will of God in her life. She understood discernment. After her careful searching for the will of God both in prayer and in dialogue with others, God invited her to become the beggar woman. In this invitation into personal poverty, Margaret discovered the will of God. Perhaps our discernment theory has emphasized active dis-cernment and not adequately explored the mystery of passive dis-cernment, something that cannot be easily categorized. One can watch it happening in another with grateful awe--and then be unable to exp!ain it to those who do not have the experience. The Franciscan tradition teaches, not by theologizing the mystery, but by telling stories about people who lived the mystery of saying yes radically to the will of God. In this tradition I offer the witness of Margaret for edification and imitation. One afternoon I asked: "Margaret, what does poverty mean to you?" She replied, "Poverty is a celebration!" I said, "Margaret, get real. For you poverty means this brain tumor. It means that you are living in a psych ward. It means that many of your friends do not understand you and have abandoned you." She looked on me with love and responded, "No, Joan, you are wrong. All that is hurt, but poverty is a celebration." " Margaret became this beggar woman, dependent upon the thoughtfulness or thoughtlessness of others. September-October 1993 689 Mueller ¯ A Franciscan Discernment Experience Notes ~ See, for example, Anthony M. Carrozzo OFM, "Francis of Assisi at the Crossroads: Elements of a Franciscan Process of Discernment," Review for Religious (July-August 1982)~ 551-556, and Evaristo Acosta Maestre OFMCap, "El Discernimiento de Espfritus y su Aplicaci6n segfin San Francisco de Asfs," Laurentianum 25 (1984): 415-448. 2 Margaret Halaska, "A Model of Discernment: The Experience of a Franciscan," Review for Religious (March-April 1984): 259-263. 3 Ibid, 260. 4 Ibid, 261. s "Legend of the Three Companions [3:7]," in St. Francis of Assisi: Omnibus of Sources, ed. Marion Habig (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1973), pp. 869-897. St. Clare, too, speaks of how she and her sisters bound themselves to Lady Poverty. See "The Testament [37]," in Clare of Assisi: Early Documents, ed. Regis Armstrong, OFMCap (New York: Paulist Press, 1988), p. 57. 6 Clare advocated that her sisters understand themselves as exchang-ing the things of time for the things of eternity. See "The First Letter to Blessed Agnes [30]," in Clare of Assisi: Early Documents, p. 37. One's mind will be transformed in the mirror of eternity. See "The Third Letter to Blessed Agnes [12-13]" in Clare ofAssisi, p. 44. 7 See "I Celano [116-17]," in St. Francis of Assisi: Omnibus of Sources, pp. 330-332. 8 Margaret Halaska, "A Model of Discernment," p. 263. 9 Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola, § 167. 10 Gratitude, joy, and praise of God are fruits of poverty chosen or accepted. See "Sacrum Commercium [58]," in Francis of Assisi: Omnibus of Sources, p. 1590. 690 Review for Religious EDWARD FOLEY Ritual Leave-Taking Almost fifteen years ago the liturgical commission of my province developed a very effective--even moving--ritual for installing the new provincial leadership at our triennial assem-bly. With slight modifications this basic ritual is resurrected every three years as we hand over direction of the province to a recently elected provincial, vicar provincial, and three councilors. Like presidential inaugurations, such rituals of beginning often gener-ate a sense of optimism and trust among the participants and pro-vide strong affirmation for those assuming office. Our rituals for taking leave of elected representatives, be they civil or religious, are usually much less effective--if they exist at all.1 Outgoing United States presidents do stage various farewell events which allow the departing commander-in-chief to offer a valedictory address and mark his closing days in the White House. The real departure ceremony for retiring U.S. presidents, however, is the inau-guration of their successor. This poignant ritual requires the retiring president to be seen and not heard--ironically marking his own tran-sition to private citizenship by serving as the most honored of wit-nesses to his successor's elevation to constitutional powers. The understated poignancy of such presidential leave-taking almost appears rich when compared with the dearth of rituals to mark the transition of leadership in so many of our religious com-munities. In few other arenas of ecclesiastical life do we ritually cel-ebrate transitions in leadership so rarely as in religious life. Retiring pastors and bishops are usually feted with multiple cele- Edward Foley OFMCap is agsociate professor of liturgy and music at the Catholic Theological Union. His address is 5401 South Cornell Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60615 o5698. S~ptember-October 1993 691 Foley ¯ Ritual Leave-Taking brations marking their contributions to a local church and artic-ulating the gratitude of at least some of the people of God. Those who die in office are afforded the even more elaborate ritual leave-taking provided by the Order of Christian Funerals. Religious lead-ers who leave office at the commencement of a chapter or with the election of their successors, however, are often simply suc-ceeded or replaced. Seldom are they ritually honored or, more importantly, reincorporated into the community. The absence of such ritual leave-taking is more than a lapse in ritual etiquette. It is a lamentable, even detrimental, omission. The discernment of new leadership is often a moment of hope and goodwill within a religious community. This is especially true if, as in my own province, this process occurs within a gathering of all the members, all of them direct constituents. The psycho-logical lift of a fresh beginning, the affirmation by a large portion of the electorate, and the guiding promise of the Holy Spirit all contribute to a sense of optimism or relief which ordinarily allows the newly elected to be installed with an authentic sense of festivity. Given the very real, sometimes devastating problems facing major superiors today, however, such goodwill is often difficult to maintain. The financial (rises, all-consuming personnel problems, and special pressures arising from the incidents of public scandal that increasingly plague many religious communities contribute to an almost inevitable estrangement between religious leaders and the communities that called them to office. The strain that arises from the realignment of ministry priorities, fulfilling per-sonnel requests, and addressing issues of personal discipline takes an enormous toll on our leaders. Ironically, leadership that can begin with an affirming elec-tion often devolves into a position of devaluation. Those who pre-viously epitomized the center of the community are often marginalized or even shunned. Affirmation is increasingly replaced by criticism. An ordinary consequence of this process is burnout and alienation. Thus, our leaders are frequently absolved of their office with extended sabbaticals or with attenuated processes of return that sometimes take years. It is lamentable that communities like my own do not possess an adequate ritual vocabulary for marking the transition from lead-ership. This ritual lacuna prevents us from corporately acknowl-edging both the joy and the pain, the gratitude and the regret, associated with the ministry of leadership in contemporary reli- 692 Review for Religious gious life. Furthermore, our inability to ritualize such moments might even be viewed as a corporate sin of omission: rather than seizing a critical moment to welcome retiring leaders back into the heart of the community, our lack of action may actually allow or even encourage them to assume a life at the margins. The stress here on corporate ritual rather than individual ges-ture is quite intentional. While the kindness and support of vari-ous individuals in a religious community is essential if retiring religious leaders are to be effectively reincorporated into their communities, personal gestures of support from even a large number of individuals are insufficient. A religious community is more than an aggregate of individuals, and the call to leadership, while voiced by individuals, is ultimately from the whole body. Our leaders are responsible to and for all the members. Just as the beginning of leadership requires corporate affirma-tion, so should leave-taking be marked with a corporate response. The power of ritual should not be underestimated in these transitions. It is an ancient teaching of the church--and a recent maxim in some social sciences-- that rituals both express and create reality, or belief. It is not simply the election but especially the inauguration that creates a president; and it is not so much the electoral defeat as much as the inauguration of a suc-cessor that creates an ex-president. Similarly, it is not only the discernment but also the installation, consecration, or other order-ing ritual that in a real sense establishes one as a leader in our religious communities. Our current lack of rituals de facto cre-ates ex-leaders. The development of appropriate rituals of transi-tion could instead reincorporate these retiring ministers and, in the process, affirm, forgive, and welcome them. Ritually choreographing such an event is difficult. Varieties of personalities, corporate fatigue or even hostility toward the retiring leadership, and a minefield of unexpressed feelings on both sides complicate matters. No two leaders and no two transi-tions in leadership, even within the same community, are identi-cal. Consequently, it is necessary to develop a ritual pattern that is Just as the beginning of leadership requires corporate affirmation, so should leave-taking be marked with a corporate response. Septe~nber-October 199~ 693 Foley ¯ Ritual Leave-Taking open to adaptation as the occasion demands. On the other hand, developing a ritual pattern is important. Such a pattern, evoked year after year, discernment after discernment, announces that rit-uals of reincorporation are not simply designed for leaders that we happen to like or feel sorry for. Rather, they are. designed for the welfare of the community and the health of the church. The following is proposed as a model for ritualizing the rein-corporation of retiring religious leaders into the community that called them to office. It presumes significant adaptation in the light of concrete circumstances and needs. The context for the outline and commentary that follow is the opening liturgy at the triennial gathering of my own province, during which a new provincial, vicar provincial, and council are to be elected. The Ritual Context The ritual context for this model is Vespers. While other prayer patterns of the church might also provide an appropriate context for the reincorporation of retiring superiors, Vespers is particularly suited to this end for many reasons. First of all, unlike Eucharist, Vespers does not require any ordained clergy. Consequently, it is one of the official liturgies of the church that can be enacted by any group of women or men, lay or ordained, without recourse to presbyters, who may or may not be present within thee community. Second, while Vespers has certain minis-terial requirements and presumptions, the leadership can easily be cast in a more communitarian and less hierarchical fashion--as befits the worship 6f a religious community. In my own province, for example, instead of relying upon a former provincial, senior friar, or ordained brother to preside, it could be possible to call upon the youngest professed member of the province to assume this ministry. Thus the ministry models the moment: recalling that leadership is not a presumption of power, but an act of service and minority. Apart from the ministerial structure of Vespers, the traditional images and themes of evening prayer recommend its usage for this ritual reincorporation. For example, Vespers traditionally occurs at dusk, with the setting of the sun. Thus it is an ending rit-ual and provides an appropriate context for acknowledging the end of one's service in leadership. On the other hand, Vespers does more than announce the end of the day; it also anticipates the 694 Review for Religious presence of Christ through the night, a presence ultimately revealed at dawn. The images of hope and expectation, as well as the metaphoric parallel of the dawning of new leadership in a community, are obvious. Evening Prayer has a strong sense of thanksgiving, well epit-omized in the opening thanksgiving for the light and in the Magnificat. This thematic could easily be exploited to give thanks to God for calling people to leadership and for expressing grati-t- ude to those who have heard the call and answered with a willing heart. Yet, while there is a natural inclination toward thanksgiving at Vespers, the thematic elas-ticity provided by the various psalms, prayers, and readings allows for more than unabashed gratitude. The call to forgive-ness, the promise of eternal life, sacrifi-cial images, words of rededication--these and many other prayer instincts have a natural resonance in Eve.ning Prayer. Finally, Vespers lends itself to the rit-ual reincorporation of the retiring lead-ers of our communities because--at least in the West--it has a relatively simple yet flexible structure. Thus Evening Player can ritually tolerate the inclusion of a modest amount of other ritual activity--like gestures of reincor-poration-- without overwhelming or being overwhelmed by them. More specifically, Vespers is capable of allowing the inclusion of rituals like the renewal of vows, the sign of peace, and other acts of reconciliation and blessing and yet still clearly be Vespers. The central adaptation that I would propose for this ritual in my own province would be the additio

Issue 50.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1991. ; Review for Religious Volume 50 Number 2 March/April 1991 Beyond the Liberal Model Exiting from Religious Life Thoughts about Science and Prayer The Death of Dearly Loved~Friends 50/~INIVERSARY VOLUME REVIEW FOR RELIGIOIJS (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus; Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428: St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to REVIEW I:Oa REI.IGIOUS; |~.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Subscription rates: Single copy $3.50 plus mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs: two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for subscription informa-tion and mailing costs. © 1991 REVIEW FOR REt,mloUS. David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Michael G. Harter, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Edito'rs Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors David J. Hassel, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Advisory Board Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. March/Api'il 1991 Volume 50 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor should be sent to RF:\'mw FOR RF:LtGtOt~S; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" shnuld be addressed Io Elizabeth McDonough, O.P.; 5001 Eastern Avenue; P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017. Back issues should be ordered from REVtEW ~'o~ REt.mto~Js; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of Print" issues are available from University Microfilms International: 300 N. Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to: Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS. When we Christians refer to the centrality of the paschal mystery, we mean that Jesus' passion, death, and resurrection somehow remain the necessary pattern for our human living in relation to God. In the gospels, Jesus often uses nature images or parables of human activity to point us towards the pattern of his dying and rising--a pat-tern in which we all who are his followers profess to share. Today it seems that we easily turn to the seed dying to bring forth life or to the metamorphosis of caterpillar to butterfly to gain insight into our way of human growth or maturity. Yet we find it hard to go from the dark beauty of nature imagery to the stark reality of Christ on a cross. So, too, the contemporary patterns of various psychological growth models can be-come so enlightening for our understanding of human development that they seem to transfix our gaze. We may stop short of viewing our mod-els through the stronger lens of a Christian optic. We should not be ungrateful that we can make use today of helpful imagery from nature and models from psychology in order that we may better understand and respond to a particularly confusing time in our world and in our Church, in religious life and in priesthood, in the fam-ily and in the parish. But the pattern of Christ--with his presence en-abling us to enter once again into his paschal mystery--remains central to our Christian focus on life issues. Rather than being confronted with a transition darkness relieved only by images and metaphors, we as Chris-tians believe that we are always being summoned into the mystery of God's transforming action breaking into the vagaries of our natural and human worlds. We struggle neither as victims nor as "Rambo" fight-ers. Instead, we are invited once again to ally ourselves with the Lord in bringing about God's reign more fully into our own lives and into the world we affect. Because our God is a God always actively working with our created world, we live and pray and work in a loving relationship with God--always developing and being purified, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad. The elements of passion, death, and resurrection are touched upon in various ways by various articles in this issue. Our first article, "A Personal Memoir: The Arrupe Years," by Roland Faley, T.O.R., is a unique tribute to the former Jesuit superior general Pedro Arrupe, who died on February 5, 1991. Arrupe provided leadership and gave hope to 161 162 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 many religious congregations through much of the paschal-mystery times for religious life following upon Vatican II; he himself suffered his own paschal mystery through a debilitating stroke in 1981, then through the difficult time when a papal delegate was imposed upon the Jesuits, and finally through his lingering half-life over.the past seven years since his resignation as general. In the darkness of religious-life renewal, an image of reweaving has captured the imagination of many. From her perspective of working with many religious groups in renewal efforts, Elizabeth McDonough, O.P., in "Beyond the Liberal Model: Quo Vadis?" assesses some of the strands of reweaving efforts and makes her own effort to suggest ways towards deeper faith realities that remain unrealized at present. Grappling with the reality of the paschal mystery in the hard deci-sions about existence facing some religious congregations is the subject of the article by.Marie Beha, O.S.C. Eileen O'Hea, C.S.J., considers the dying process of the individual who considers leaving a religious com-munity and the needed response of the community. Renee Yann, R.S.M., reflects on the power of community in the special moment of the death of dearly loved friends. Three articles on pray,.: may shed some light as we move through some dark passages in our ever developing love-life with God. Benedict Auer, O.S.B., expands the Benedictine lectio approach with some in-sights into the use of videos. Edgar Bourque, A.A., inculturates an Augustinian way of praying into our American context. Some refresh-ing ways of understanding prayer are presented through the medium of science by Dennis Sardella. Helpful and comprehensive describe the treatment of vocation min-istry by Jeanne Schweickert, S.S.S.F., in her "Co-creators of History: United States Vocation Ministry." The same words apply equally well to the article by Kenneth Davis, O.F.M.Conv., "U.S. Hispanic Catho-lics: Trends and Recent Works." May the Lenten and Easter season~ guide us all further into the pas-chal mystery which focuses our life with the Lord. David L. Fleming, S.J. A Personal Memoir: The Arrupe Years Roland J. Faley, T.O.R. Father Roland J. Faley lived in Rome as vicar general of the Third Order Regular of St. Francis, i 971 - 1977, and superior general 1977- i 983. In December 1990 he completed his term as executive director of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM). His mailing address is St. Thomas More Friary; 650 Jackson St., N.E.; Washington, D.C. 20017. The time was the early seventies. Rome was still caught up in a spirit of postconciliar excitement. Pope Paul VI's inherent caution in the face of the untried was tempered by an unfettered spirit in the air which wanted to let things happen. The present writer was returning to Rome after an absence of more than a decade, having been elected to the general gov-ernment of his Franciscan Order. I had been a student in Rome at the time of John XXIII's election. Those had been heady days of great prom-ise, at that time more a hope than anything else. It was only after the council, years later, that the real struggle of aggiornamento could be felt. Pedro Arrupe was the general of the Jesuits. Vibrant and spirited are adjectives that hardly do him justice. He was also president of the Un-ion of Superiors General (USG), the organization made up of the heads of men's religious institutes in the Church: It was a job for which Ar-rupe was ideally suited although one always wondered how he found the time. It was often said that the first time he was elected to the office by his peers, it was because he was general of the Jesuits. His subsequent reelections (and there were at least four) were because he was Pedro Ar-rupe. The story says a great deal about the man, quite apart from his of-fice. It was not long after I became active in the USG that Arrupe asked me to serve on the Justice and Peace Commission and later named me 163 164 / Review for Religious, March-April 1990 to be the press officer for the Union. It was in the latter capacity espe-cially that I came to know Arrupe the man. The Justice Agenda Arrupe steered the Society of Jesus through a very difficult period in its history. The thirty-first and thirty-second general congregations had set the concerns of the world's neediest at the center of the Society's mis-sion. A strong emphasis on social justice permeates the documents of these general congregations. The passage from documents to im-plementation was marked by an inevitable reaction, not all of it positive, within the Society itself. Arrupe was undaunted. The new direction reso-nated with his whole life as a missionary. The evil of the arms race was eminently clear to one who had survived the first use of the atomic bomb in Japan, 1945. For Arrupe this postconciliar direction of his institute was not a ques-tion of personal choice. It had been mandated by the Society's highest authority, a general congregation; for the general of the institute, im-plementation was simply not an option. In that spirit of obedience, he charted a new course which made strong demands on the whole Society of Jesus. On the level of general government alone it required personnel and resources not easily commandeered. He never wavered in the pur-suit of a course that for him bore the faces of countless deprived and suf-fering people. In responding to any issue, Arrupe's enthusiasm was infectious. He was the idea man, the animator, willing to leave details and implemen-tation to others. At times he seemed unrealistic, but he never left one un-inspired. The great picture was always there. An unforgettable moment occurred during the refugee crisis of the late seventies. The movement of peoples was felt in many parts of the world, with Rome affected by a large influx of people from Ethiopia. A visit to Arrupe from Robert McNamara, then president of the World Bank, proved to be a real catalyst in moving the refugee project forward. An urgent response was called for by the sheer volume of people arriv-ing in Rome after the revolution in Ethiopia. The greatest need was for housing and food. The Jesuits opened their own refugee office to address the problem internationally and in Rome. At the same time Arrupe gal-vanized the forces of men and women general superiors. Through the built-in network of the two Unions of Superiors General, housing was found for the Ethiopians throughout the city, especially in the genera-lates themselves. A hot meal was served each evening to hundreds of per-sons in the basement of the GesO, the main Jesuit church in the heart The Arrupe Years of the city. It was always interesting to meet religious leaders of interna-tional congregations ladling soup or serving pasta at the refugee center. Arrupe took an active interest in the work of the USG's Justice and Peace Commission. He urged its members to respond to known viola-tions of human rights anywhere on the world scene, to become involved in the Year of the Woman (1976), and to sensitize members of religious institutes on the role of justice in religious life, especially in the wake of the 1971 Synod of Bishops. His leadership in social justice was firm and steady, but never abrasive or confrontational. He had, for example, an unusual sensitivity for diplomatic concerns and was a strong believer in the power of persuasion. But his commitment to the thesis of justice as a constitutive element of the Gospel message was total. This was jus-tice in the service of faith, an idea integral to Arrupe's thinking. There was no divorcing faith and justice; it was, moreover, a justice rooted in love. For Arrupe, it was unthinkable to speak of a struggle for justice apart from a belief in that justice for all people willed by God himself. Christian Unity Ecumenism was still a fledgling enterprise on the Roman scene when Arrupe moved the USG toward a better understanding of men and women religious of the other churches. In the early seventies, Michael Fisher, provincial of the Anglican Franciscans from England, and Ar-rupe decided to initiate a permanent consultation on religio,us life among religious of the Catholic, Reformed, and Anglican communions. The con-sultation continues to meet on a biannual, basis and is now in its second decade of life. During those Roman years it became common to have non- Catholic religious present for the assemblies of the USG; on many lev-els, the participation was reciprocal. This was a new venture, largely un-tested, the success of which was by no means guaranteed. To a great ex-tent it was Arrupe's breadth of vision and the warmth of his personality that carried the day. There was an immediacy and directness about him that broke down resistance. In the ecumenical field, he was willing to leave the doctrinal differences to others; it was the faith that was shared which excited him. In the area of religious life, the understanding of the vows, community, and prayer differed little from one denomination to the other. I remember vividly the bonding that quickly developed among the participants of those early years. When discussion centered on the nu-merical difference in the size of the communities, it was often very amus-ing. It was fascinating to see Arrupe, whose religious institute numbered close to 35,000, engaged in intense conversation with an Anglican su- 166 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 perior of some forty religious. Numbers mattered little; it was the mean-ing of the life that counted. Conversation with the World Vatican II's Church in the Modern World fit perfectly with Arrupe's sense of church. While not unmindful of the dangers present in the meet-ing between faith and culture, he remained a strong proponent of incul-turation. A spirit of withdrawal or disengagement from the world, or even worse, a siege mentality, was alien to Arrupe. Nowhere was this more evident than in his dealing with the media. It was during these same Roman years that Donald Campion, S.J., had been named the Jesuit gen-eralate's chief communications officer. Arrupe had long been keenly aware of the necessity for a high-level spokesman and worked to make it possible. Campion was privy to discussion and decision-making at all levels and, therefore, in the best position to deal effectively with the me-dia. Such openness was a quantum leap forward from the spirit of reti-cence, even fear, which was so much a part of religious officialdom. The latter was a spirit well symbolized by the small sliding window at the por-ter's office of the Jesuit generalate and countless other Roman headquar-ters. It was a far cry from an "open door" policy. As press officer for the USG, I enjoyed the same latitude. I was en-couraged to be present for all meetings, even when the most sensitive issues were being discussed. I was free to share the views and activities of the Union with both the secular and religious press. If discretion was called for, I was expected to exercise it, but the prevailing climate was one-of as much openness as possible. This was Arrupe's style, and it proved right more often than not. By the same token, he expected a sense of responsibility from a well-informed media. He was both angered and offended by unfounded specu-lation or an inordinate interest in the sensational or controversial. This was very evident at the time of the 32nd General Congregation, at which he presided. What seemed like a concerted effort to magnify conflicts between the Jesuits and the Vatican caused him no small measure of pain. And yet it never soured him or changed his basically positive out-look. For him the best way to deal with such a situation was through con-tinued efforts at supplying accurate and intelligible information. It was a Church in progress, moving through history, aided and abet-ted by the world around it, that fashioned Arrupe's thinking. If the mes-sage of the Church were to be heard, it would only be through outreach and dialogue. In the important position which he held, he lent the full weight of his office to obtain that goal. The Arrupe Years / 167 The Man of God It is hard to speak of a person's spirituality. In its intensely personal character it remains ultimately untouchable. And yet it becomes trans-parent in a person's life. In having a certain closeness to Arrupe and lis-tening to the views of others who were his peers, I noted certain quali-ties that mirrored a remarkable spirituality. He comes to mind im-mediately as a man of hope and faith-filled action. It is small wonder that he had such close personal ties with Cardinal Edward Pironio, the Argentinian head of the Vatican Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes. There were any number of reasons why relations between the Jesuits and the Vatican department responsible for religious life might well have been strained at that time. But Pironio's sense of hope and his very open and warm personality matched Arrupe's. They became close personal friends. Hindsight has led many people to comment favorably on Rome in the seventies. Religious life was being fashioned by an interesting trio. There were the challenges to religious given by Paul VI, coupled with the positive leadership bf Pironio and Arrupe. It was an exciting decade; for some of us, unforgettable. Arrupe's spirituality was marked by a deep sense of history and tra-dition. He was part of a Church and a religious institute whose patrimony truly humbled him. The picture of Arrupe as a man wed only to the pre-sent and largely indifferent to the values of the past is caricature at best. He knew that new wine required new skins and articulated that vision well. But he linked that vision with a real sense of the importance of con-tinuity. Some examples come quickly to mind. He had a profound es-teem for the insights of his institute's founder, St. Ignatius Loyola. While some argued that many of those insights were time-bound and no longer valid, Arrupe would be the last to be convinced. He said repeatedly that the longer he lived the more he appreciated the spiritual genius of his foun-der. In those years there was considerable discussion about the need for greater democracy in religious life. The question of the appropriateness of electing superiors, rather than appointing them as was the custom in many religious congregations, was very much to the fore. Arrupe re-mained throughout a strong proponent of the appointment method, fixed so strongly in Jesuit tradition. He was never persuaded that democracy produces the best leadership, and many of those who belonged to orders or congregations of a more democratic bent could recognize a certain va-lidity in his position. 161~ / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 His understanding of the vow of obedience was not rigidly tradi-tional; his thinking had been enhanced by contemporary theological in-sight into the Gospel sense of the vow. And yet he was deeply imbued with appreciation for the ascetical value inherent in accepting the deci-sions of those placed in authority. A case in point. When Arrupe com-municated to Robert Drinan, S.J., the decision that the latter would have to relinquish his seatin the U.S. House of Representatives, it was a very difficult moment in the life of both men. But it made a lasting impres-sion on Arrupe. The priority that Drinan gave to his Jesuit calling in ac-cepting that decision was, in Arrupe's mind, as important for the Soci-ety and the Church as anything Drinan might have otherwise accom-plished. It was an example to which he would repeatedly return. In retrospect, however, one would have to say that it was the man's openness that remains so vivid to the present day. He was never threat-ened by new ideas, even if he found them ultimately unacceptable. He could see the value in some elements of a Marxist social analysis, even though he was against its use. He could espouse~the Jesuits' new social ministries and still be a strong believer in the traditional ministry of edu-cation. He was a champion of legitimate pluralism, almost by instinct. While mindful of the importance of magisterial teaching, he wanted theo-logians to have as much freedom as possible in the pursuit of their task. It was his deep-rooted faith that lent him serenity in facing [he contem-porary scene. Not intimidated by the risk of possible failure, he realized that all was ultimately in God's hands. And then there were the trials, known best by those who worked with him closely. A number of those he shared with me. In his later years, the media was asking hard questions. Was Arrupe going to resign? Was he under pressure from the Vatican to do so? Was a dissatisfied segment of the Jesuits pressing for his resignation? Was his relationship with Paul VI as strained as rumored? Were there conflicts with John Paul II? Arrupe was always candid. He respected the media and realized that there was much to be gained through cooperation. But he was disturbed by attempts to exacerbate situations and exaggerate differences. There were certainly very difficult issues which he faced in the latter years of his term of office. He was fully aware that there was a conservative seg-ment of the Society which opposed him. In addition, during the thirty-second General Congregation, his was the task of interpreting the mind of that worldwide assembly to the pope, and vice versa. It was a sensi-tive and often painful task. That he did it so well is a tribute to his con-ciliatory gifts. But he was beset by rumors, which, like a room full of The Arrupe Years / 169 gnats, gave him no peace. That there were differences between the gen-eral congregation and the pope in certain areas, he never denied. Yet his personal relationship with Paul VI was never the question. He was sym-pathetic to the concerns of the pope and realized the weight of his cross. Moreover, he hailed the pope's social teaching as a landmark in the Church's life. But the perception of a wall of conflict between the "black" and "white" pope persisted, even though it was inaccurate. Arrupe was the first to admit that the sentiment among the Jesuits for the direction .taken after the thirty-second Congregation was not unani-mous. He was acutely aware of a vocal conservative opposition. But he saw the implementation of the general congregation's decisions as an obe-dience and there was no turning back. He always stressed the strong sup-port that came from so many quarters, the enthusiasm which the con-gregation's decisions had generated, especially among the young, and the fact that the Holy See had given its approval. But the fact is that the positive is just not that newsworthy, and so he would be inevitably ques-tioned about the "dark side" of any given situation. This always caused a certain measure of dismay, but it was followed by a remarkable resil-ience. In the wake of any setback, there was always his eventual phone call with a new idea or project. Early in the summer of 1981, Arrupe, his trusted vicar and confi-dant Vincent O'Keefe, and I talked at length about a possible article on the burning question of Arrupe's resignation. There was extensive specu-lation in the press, and we were discussing the best way to deal with it. However, it was more than a public question; it was a matter internal to the Jesuits at a time in which any public communication would have been inappropriate. Arrupe looked upon his eventual resignation in a very posi-tive light, as setting an important precedent for the future of the Soci-ety. His thinking was centered on the good of the religious institute to which his own interests were completely subservient. We decided to do nothing at that time. But that evening he assured me that once he was no longer in office and had the freedom to speak more openly, he would do an extensive interview with me and answer the questions that I felt should be addressed. That proved to be our last conversation. Upon his return from a trip to the Philippines some weeks later, he suffered the stroke from which he never recovered. The rest is history. I subsequently left Rome upon completion of my term of office. My occasional return visits were always marked by a brief visit with the man who had affected my life so deeply. Few words were exchanged. It was 170 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 usually a prayer and a blessing; he would then kiss my hand before I left. His sufferings proved to be one of the most powerful messages of his life. As one of his confreres put it: "He led us in life and has offered himself for us in death." His immolation was total. It has been an un-usual life. To have been touched by it is a rare gift. Father Pedro Arrupe was superior general of the Jesuits, 1965-198J~. He died on Tuesday, February 5, 1991, in Rome. Beyond the Liberal Model: Quo Vadis? Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Sister Elizabeth McDonough, O.P., J.C.D,, Canonical Counsel Editor of REVIEW FOR RELIGtOUS and author of Religious in the 1983 Code, writes and consults extensively about consecrated life. She is a canonical consultant and tribunal judge for the Arch-diocese of Washington, where she may be contacted at P.O. Box 29260; Washing-ton, D.C. 20017. For background information on this article, see endnote i. ]t is no secret that active religious life for women in America has experi-enced progressive decline in the quarter century since Vatican II. Evi-dence of the decline is clear and overwhelming, and its effects are felt and observed in the entire Church. When one looks for causes, one real-izes that distinguishing them from the effects is both complicated and deli-cate. Nevertheless, from my experience as a woman religious during the last quarter century and as a canonical consultant for numerous women's communities over the last decade, I have come to the conclusion that many religious have not recognized or have not acknowledged some clear causes and effects of the current decline for what they really are. Effects of progressive decline are there to be seen in the current po-larization within and among women's communities along conservative and liberal ideological lines. The decline is also evident in most com-munities in their relative inability to attract or to keep vocations, as well as in their related inability to maintain significant institutional commit-ments. It is manifest in the near invisibility of women religious in con-temporary apostolic works, as well as in the frequent reluctance of clergy and laity alike to work with women religious in various apostolates. Pro-gressive decline is experienced by religious themselves as the uninten-tionally created and uncomfortably experienced loss of identity follow- 171 Review for Religious, March-April 1991 ing early and rapid postconciliar abandonment of traditional symbols and services, customs and norms. And, to those who are not religious, its ef-fects are all-too-obvious in the polarized, apparently directionless, plu-ralistic potpourri of ministries and attire, lifestyles and mindsets among women religious today. The progressive decline stems in part from the pervasive sociology of liberal individualism in America and in part from the cultural preva-lence of a psychology of selfism. But causes of the decline are also evi-dent in the predominantly social-justice agenda that has been adopted by most women's institutes, as well as in the revisionist versions of vowed life and in the generally antiauthority and often feminist stances currently espoused by not a few active women religious. Again, a major cause of decline can be traced to the reality that, in seeking their roots after the council, many women's institutes dating their foundations to frontier America discovered--but probably did not admit--that they actually had no genuine, unique charism to renew and adapt. The decline can also be traced to the systematic and progressive de-construction or deliberate abandonment of fundamental juridic structures and roles during the postconciliar constitutional revision processes. In most women's institutes, general chapters have now abandoned legisla-tion in favor of direction-setting, with their goals programmed by pre-chapter steering committees and subsequently adopted through member-ship participation in consensus formation that is shaped by outside facil-itators. In most women's institutes, lower-level superiors are now either nonexistent or nonfunctional, while major superiors have abandoned gov-ernment in favor of business management and have surrounded them-selves with middle-level, appointed, administrative personnel whose num-bers have steadily increased over the years in bureaucratic disproportion to the continuing decrease in membership. Functionally, the net effect of juridic deconstruction has been the crea-tion of business-management-style bureaucracies which filter informa-tion upward and decisions downward, from and to members of women's institutes, primarily by means of bulletins, newsletters, special-interest mailings, and occasional phone calls or visits. As a result individual re-ligious deal almost exclusively with middle-level personnel over a long period of time and even in personal and sensitive matters. Many would prefer to describe this reality quite differently by saying that communi-cation (not mere information) is facilitated inward and outward (not up and down) between the empowered membership and the visionary lead-ership in the concentric circles of participative government that have re- Beyond the Liberal Model / 173 placed the hierarchic pyramid of authority. Whatever the terminology, the following experiences are common: (1) Individual members or groups of members can seldom effect change in policies and agendas that are programmed and prepackaged at upper (or inner) levels of the struc-ture; (2) religious are both structurally and functionally more removed from their elected, responsible superiors than previously; and (3) the right of individual religious to personal privacy is, at times, not ade-quately protected. Most women religious would admit that, in the quarter century since Vatican II, the rather short-lived euphoria of the "nun in the world" has been replaced by a long-suffering, quiet frustration at the lurking possi-bility of permanent extinction. While increased relevancy and effective-ness were focal points for altering lifestyles and practices during renewal, many wonder now if women religious in America have ever been more irrelevant and less effective. To be frank, most clergy and laity and male religious have been thinking for quite some time that religious life for women in America is "going nowhere fast," even if few have verbal-ized this publicly. More recently, at least some--if not many--women religious have cautiously begun to acknowledge the same apparent real-ity to themselves and others. A haunting, unresolved question about the entire experience of re-newal is: How did all this ever happen to us? In seeking answers, con-servatives seem tempted to respond: "Surely an enemy has done it!" In kind, liberals seem inclined to say: "I am making all things new!" From the perspective of experience, my response to the question looks to what might be a deeper problem, namely: "All this did not just happen, We did it to ourselves." Indeed, I would suggest that, on the part of women religious, major factors contributing to the current decline have been a certain lack of knowledge of both theology and history, as well as a cer-tain lack of maturity in responding to newly discovered postconciliar re-alities. And, from current experience, I would suggest that an apparent lack of humility in admitting previous mistakes and an apparent lack of honesty regarding present reality or future prospects are probably has-tening the permanent demise of many active institutes of women reli-gious in this country. Lack of Vocations An obvious sign of the progressive decline of women's institutes is the staggering decrease in their membership since Vatican II. In 1965 there were slightly more than 180,000 members in active communities in America, but by 1990 that number had fallen to slightly more than 174 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 100,000-~a decrease of nearly 45%. Simultaneously, since few women have entered while many have been departing at a slow but steady pace, the median age in women's institutes has risen rapidly and is now com-monly sixty-five or higher. Marie Augusta Neal, in her recent book From Nuns to Sisters, sug-gests that the "radical risks" involved in the Church's new mission to the poor may be the prime factor limiting the response of women to a call to religious life. She thus inadvertently trivializes that call--which, on practical and theoretical as well as human and theological levels, has its appeal within risk or without any particular concern about risk. Neal does not seem to recognize that there is---~r ought to be--a substantive difference between a vocation and a career. And, if experience tells us anything in the matter, it tells us that--with rare exception--the single, most compelling human reason why anyone responds positively to a re-ligious vocation is her (or his) direct, personal awareness of religious who are happy together doing something that they perceive as worth-while and who are clearly motivated by and committed to the love of Je-sus Christ. Currently, many not-yet-retired women religious have become increas-ingly absent or invisible in apostolic activities of the local Church. In other words, for the most part they simply are no longer seen. Moreover, many no longer live in community, even when they live in geographic proximity, sometimes even when they exercise the same ministry or work in the same place. In other words, they are no longer seen together except possibly at work. Again, perhaps too few women religious are to-day perceived as being genuinely happy, and perhaps even fewer as be-ing happy together. Further, the current wide diversification of minis-tries seems sometimes to have led to trivial apostolates ~hile simultane-ously rendering institutional apostolic, witness unsustainable. And, though many may reject the suggestion, perhaps love of Jesus Christ is simply not perceived as the underlying or determining factor in the life of many women religious in America. In short, perhaps because the posi-tive image that women religious tend to have of themselves bears little resemblance to the not-so-positive image that others have of them, it may be unrealistic--if not grandiose--to expect vocations to increase in the near or distant future. Pluralism and Polarization An initial cause and increasing consequence of decline in religious life for women is the currently a~knowledged division into conservative and liberal categories both within and among most congregations. Beyond the Liberal Model / 175 In general, conservative-model institutes tend to favor external authorities, institutional endeavors, traditional theologies, and hierarchi-cal structures; liberal-model institutes generally favor inner freedom, in-dividual endeavors, postconciliar theologies, and collaborative struc-tures. Liberal institutes are inclined to accuse conservative ones of at-tracting emotionally immature candidates, while conservative institutes are inclined to accuse liberals of having nothing that attracts. Conservative religious are often summarily categorized as oppressed, unrenewed, and psychologically dependent; liberal religious are just as often summarily categorized as progressive, feminist, and pseudosophis-ticated. Conservatives seem to read history and Scripture in so selective and so polemical a fashion as to render them an inadequate basis for or-dinary discourse. Conversely, liberals seem to read history and Scripture in so simplistic and so revisionist a fashion as to render them insignifi-cant. From my experience, liberals and conservatives alike seem to have worked very diligently at destroying whatever common symbols they had, so that now they possess no common language for constructive com-munication. Each side seems to have been mutually successful in trans-forming both the concept of God and the experience of worship into sources of division. And neither side seems able to lay untainted claim to any "moral high ground," any bridgehead that addresses the ever wid-ening chasm between them. Currently the majority of women's institutes in America express or espouse a liberal model of religious life. However, it is becoming more and more evident that many religious themselves do not ascribe to the tenets or direction of that model, while many religious also have at least some (and sometimes serious) concerns about its functioning and future. As conservatives attempt to build a future by returning to the past and liberals attempt to build a future by rejecting the past, the categories are becoming increasingly distant and distinct. Most religious realize that any previous potential "middle ground" is fast disappearing, thus leav-ing little hope for future cooperation or reconciliation in or among insti-tutes. Mary Jo Leddy in her recent book, Reweaving Religious Life, ac-knowledges that the current liberal model of religious life is not adequate for facilitating and sustaining genuine adaptation and renewal, even though she has previously been both a proponent and facilitator of that model. Leddy suggests that the liberal model of religious life has become "unraveled" and that it should be replaced by a choice for "creative 176 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 disintegration" in favor of even more radical pluralism. She suggests, further, that liberal-model institutes might take as an example of her "reweaving" thesis Teresa of Avila's reform of Carmelite monastic life in the sixteenth century. But Leddy seems not to recognize that her sug-gestion for the future is humanly problematic and that her analogy from the past is historically inaccurate. As regards "creative disintegration" for a more radical pluralism, the current experience of most American women religious is that the de-gree of pluralism already present in their institutes is straining the limits of not just the weave but also the inner fiber of religious life itself, indi-vidually and collectively. In short, Leddy seems unaware that going be-yond present degrees of pluralism in ministries and lifestyles will most likely be more destructive than creative, both in the beginning and in the end. Regarding Teresian reform of Carmelite life, I.eddy does not recog-nize that Teresa's version of "reweaving" was actually a return to ba-sic structures and religious observance from an "unraveling" that oc-curred precisely because fundamental elements of the original charism had been abandoned or abused. In short, she seems oblivious to this his-torical fact: that Teresa accomplished the genuine renewal of Carmelite religious life not through programmed disintegration but rather through a concerted effort by all to embrace its fundamental structures and heri-tage in order to live them and preserve them in a pristine manner. Deconstruction of Structures and Elimination of Distinctions The current deconstructed functioning of general chapters as parti-cipative consensus-formation assemblies in most women's institutes has engendered both a feeling of members' being "empowered" for gov-ernance and a strong sense of "ownership" of chapter decisions. On the other hand, the new style of general chapters also tends to lessen critical assessment of options and to avoid substantive decisions that distinguish delegates from participants. Simultaneously, such chapters commonly en-act global, carefully crafted, blandly diluted statements whose content can hardly be opposed in theory and can scarcely be assessed in implemen-tation. Currently some women's institutes have so little sense of their own identity and of the role of chapters that they involve nonmembers extensively in chapter proceedings, and some have even suggested that nonmembers may be elected to governance roles. The distinction between major superiors and councils, as well as dif-ferentiation of their roles, has also undergone postconciliar deconstruc-tion. With the advent of collaborative decision-making, major superiors Beyond the Liberal Model / 177 and councils are commonly referred to as leadership teams: their mem-bers share equally the governance/management of the religious institute and are functionally distinguished, if at all, only at the infrequent mo-ments of final decision.,required by law. In relation to actual decision-making, in most institutes there has been a concomitant radical limita-tion or complete elimination of instances in which a supreme moderator or major superior can act without the consent of the council. Most of these alterations seem related to questioning the possession of personal authority by superiors, combined with an all too real (and often all too painful) remembrance of abuse of authority by superiors in the past. The deconstruction of juridic structures and the blurring of gov-ernmental functions apparently meet a need to limit the authority of su-periors through "leadership" language and apparently also reinforce the new participative consensus-niodel chapters in a stance of visibly and ver-bally rejecting whatever has been perceived as hierarchic or patriarchal. Overall, however, the new bureaucratic, business-management model of governance operated by middle-level appointees and committees seems to have produced no overwhelmingly positive verifiable results other than the fact that many members feel very good about it. In other words, it does appear that most people like the feeling of having a part in run-ning the business even if business is not getting any better. Obedience and Mission Closely related to juridic deconstruction and elimination of distinc-tions are postconciliar views espousing dialogical obedience and justice-oriented missions. The seed for a dialogical understanding of obedience was firmly planted by the affirmations of Perfectae Caritatis 14 that superiors should foster an active and responsible obedience in addition to listen-ing to and promoting cooperation among the members of the institute. But after twenty-five years that seed has produced, in many religious in-stitutes of women, a strong undergrowth of resistance to any exercise of personal authority by any superiors. As a result, some prevalent revision-ist versions of vowed obedience consider it to be so personal and dialo-gical that it apparently can never involve a decision made by someone else which must be obeyed. In this framework, attributing final decision-making power to a superior is simply rejected as representing an archaic, unjust sacralization of hierarchic notions about authority, commitment, and obligations, all of which are now considered as negotiable. Action on behalf of justice and participation in the transformation of the world were affirmed by the 1971 Synod of Bishops as "constitutive 171~ / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 dimension[s] of preaching the Gospel" and "of the Church's mission for redemption of the human race and its liberation from every oppres-sive situation." And these affirmations quickly became a mandate for religious to work with new or renewed vigor in justice-and-peace endeav-ors throughout the world. However, many religious who recognize action on behalf of justice as a constitutive element of the Gospel appear to have fallen into the er-ror of thinking that action on behalf of justice is also exhaustive of it. There is ample indication that some religious erroneously assess the Church's mission as only or primarily one of unbridled activity in the marketplaces of contemporary society. They frequently quote as a source the document Religious and Human Promotion, but one seldom hears any mention of the document on The Contemplative Dimension of Re-ligious Life. In addition, a selective reading of conciliar texts and post-conciliar documents seems to have created for some religious an urgent mandate for political action and systemic change to the exclusion or ne-glect of any other manner of transforming the world or of preaching the Gospel. In connection with contemporary views of authority and obedi-ence, the mandate for systemic change of oppressive structures seems to be directed increasingly to the internal structures of the Church and of one's own religious institute rather than to the wider world. The social-justice orientation in the revised constitutions of most in-stitutes is primarily the result of an ongoing series of sociological sur-veys initiated in 1965 by the Leadership Conference of Women Relig-ious to provide an information base for resources on renewal. The sur-veys were formulated, distributed, interpreted, and implemented by Marie Augusta Neal, who has written numerous articles and books in the last two decades in order to explain, expound, expand, and defend her work. In her writings Neal admits that the entire purpose of the research surveys had a social-justice orientation. She also acknowledges that con-troversy over the surveys contributed directly to splintering of the (then) Conference of Major Superiors of Women in the early 1970s. And she herself states that the pre- and post-Vatic~in II belief scale contained in the "Sisters' Survey" involving 139,000 women religious in the mid- 1960s "became the most controversial and most discriminating variable, which accounted for the pace and direction of changes in structures of the religious congregations involved in the study."2 Yet Neal has con-sistently defended the soundness of her survey instrument as well as the accuracy of her interpretations, and has increasingly extended her find- Beyond the Liberal Model / 17'9 ings beyond the realm of sociology. Critics of Neal's work point to survey questions formulated in quali-tative language, to information reported in questionable categories, and to Neal's apparently subjective interpretations expressed in her follow-up. memos as being especially problematic. The surveys engendered even more controversy as findings originally proposed as an information base on resources for renewal began to function instead as LCWR's single, central source for pursuing social-justice agendas, for questioning eccle-siastical authority, and for picking up the the pace of renewal. Indeed, the quarter-century survey project that coincided with the postconciliar constitutional revision in women's institutes may arguably be the single most significant factor that can account for the systematic and progres-sive deconstruction evident among so many institutes of women religious today. Abandonment of Common Symbols and Practices Regardless of whether one recognizes or acknowledges an underly-ing internal juridic deconstruction in religious institutes of women, the visible, gradual, and progressive alteration of attire for women religious since Vatican II cannot be denied. The transition in habits has been a pain-ful and emotionally charged issue and is a prime example of the whole-sale abandonment of symbols and symbol systems by women religious since the council. No one is at liberty to argue about whether or not the external identity symbol of the habit has been fundamentally abandoned by numerous women religious, and most agree that whatever has hap-pened is irreversible. Moreover, the "habit issue" represents a nexus of sociological, psychological, behavioral, historical, and theological fac-tors that relate directly to the progressive decline of religious life in Amer-ica. Transformation in the attire of women religious from outdated and unhealthy medieval costumes, to makeshift modified habits, to bought and borrowed secular clothes, to contemporary business suits with com-munity logos, to the stylish garb of modern professionals is reflected in and among women's institutes today. The visible choice of attire, though not completely indicative ofa conservative or liberal model as such, is a somewhat reliable sign of the institute's (and person's) location and di-rection on the spectrum of post-Vatican II transition. The attire worn by the major superior and council of an institute tends to indicate both whether attire choices are possible within the institute and what the most progressive of possible choices might be. These indications, along with when the attire choices became operative, rather accurately reflect 1~10 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 whether the institute operates primarily from a liberal or conservative model (or somewhere in between) and tend to show a transition towards the liberal model. Be that as it may, my reason for discussing the choice of attire is that it is never the only issue being addressed. The attire issue also places in sharp relief a functional distinction between institutes of men and of women. That is, for members of nonmonastic institutes of men, the habit--if they had one--was traditionally a significant form of clothing occasionally donned for community and liturgical exercises or for pro-fessional and pastoral services. In .contrast, for all institutes of women-- with rare exception--the habit was traditionally their primary identifi-cation symbol and was also often the only clothes they had to wear. Ad-ditionally, the habit issue highlights a significant difference in response to legal norms on the part of men and of women, namely: The 1917 code required that habits be worn by all members of all institutes at all times, both inside and outside the religious house; women consistently did what the law said, while men rather consistently did not. Thus, ~the almost vis-ceral reaction (of some) to the matter of the habit should not be surpris-ing. More fundamentally, however, numerous other unifying and mean-ingful symbols and practices disappeared along with the habit in religious institutes of women after Vatican II. Common meals and lodging, com-mon prayers and songs, common recreation and study, as well as com-mon moments of joy and suffering, were generally minimized, mildly disdained, or summarily abandoned in a veritable onslaught of Ameri-can, postconciliar, egalitarian, pluralistic individualism and activism. Some would suggest that in this process women religious have become less oppressed, more mature and free for service. Many others would sug-gest, in contrast, that the primary result of abandoning symbol systems and common practices has been a pervasive and overwhelming experi-ence of inner emptiness and outer loneliness made more acute by recog-nition that there simply is no longer any "common glue" to hold insti-tutes of women religious together at simple, fundamental, indispensable levels of human relationship. Transformations in Community Life and Ministry Additional consequences Of postconciliar deconstruction in women's institutes concern: (1) how members live together and relate to one an-other, or--in other words--the change in what was formerly referred to as common life or community; and (2) how members happen to arrive in a particular place doing a particular job, or--in other words--the Beyond the Liberal Model / 1~11 change in what was formerly referred to as receiving an assignment or being missioned. Without detailing here the canonical requirements for common life and its broad and strict interpretation, it was obviously common prac-tice in.the past for religious to live with other members of their commu-nity in the same residence with at least relatively equal access to food, clothing, shelter, and furnishings. Exceptions to common life were al-ways possible and sometimes actual but generally remained just that: ex-ceptions. Since the council, however, more religious now live "outside a house" of the institute for extended periods of time and for a variety of reasons, including apostolate, health, and study. Moreover, it is cur-rently common for a woman religious to live outside a house of her in-stitute either (1) because she cannot find a house in which she is collec-tively "accepted" by sisters already in the house according to their es-tablished expectations of community, or (2) because the sister herself can-not find a house in which she feels she can live comfortably and con-structively according to her already established expectations. Since Vatican II, members of religious institutes have been forced to deal regularly with high degrees of constant uncertainty, and simulta-neously they have had great demands for intense interpersonal relating placed on them. Religious institutes and individual women religious have devoted varying amounts of time, energy, and resources to bemoaning or extolling postconciliar relational developments and demands. And at present many institutes and their members are so caught up in personal relational issues and self-help programs as to convey the impression that, if only every sister would study her Myers-Briggs profile and identify the consequences of her Enneagram number and join the appropriate recov-ery or codependency program, then community life would irreversibly begin to get out of the present morass of personal malaise and interper-sonal dysfunctionality. Meanwhile, however, most members of liberal-model institutes no longer live in community, but merely relate to it functionally. It is usu-ally easier for major superiors to allow members to live outside a house of the institute than to deal constructively with problems in houses of the institute. Those members who continue to live in community seem, in most institutes, to have circumstantially or preferentially sorted them-selves into relatively permanent subgroups by age differentiation or work relations or ideological orientations or dyad/triad dependencies. And quite a few women religious depend regularly--and sometimes exten-sively--- on professional colleagues or family members for ongoing per- 1~12 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 sonal support and meaningful human interaction rather than on their re-ligious community. Related to changes in community living is the alteration since Vati-can II of how most women religious arrive in a particular place doing a particular job. A process of "open placement" now predominates, which usually means that the religious works with the institute's person-nel director or board in following previously established community cri-teria for seeking apostolic involvement or other gainful employment. Fre-quently in this system contracts are negotiated between the sister and the employer and are then submitted to the personnel director or board for review and informal approval. Eventually, finalized arrangements are rati-fied by the competent major superior, and the sister is missioned or as-signed to her new apostolate or job with, if possible, some form of rit-ual solemnization of the process. Some provision for housing is neces-sarily connected to the missioning, but living in community is not usu-ally a priority among the criteria for seeking employment, and so excep-tions to common life proliferate. The Sociology of Liberal Individualism Recently Robert Bellah and several other sociologists published a re-vealing analysis of the phenomenon and failure of liberal individualism in America, entitled Habits of the Heart. Among other things, this analy-sis suggests that American culture reflects a radically liberal society of psychologically sophisticated but morally impoverished individuals who demonstrate a "narcissism of similarity" by associating in "lifestyle enclaves." These enclaves are composed of the like-minded who share comparable desires for leisure, recreation, and consumer goods and who, by their self-chosen values, have been freed from traditional ethnic and religious boundaries while simultaneously justifying their own prefer-ences. Further, Bellah and his colleagues suggest that, in American so-ciety, people's felt need for personal fulfillment---ever elusive--has re-sulted in their substituting short-term "therapeutic relationships" be-tween "self-actualized" individuals for the genuine, creative relation-ship of love. This, in turn, has resulted in replacing obligation and com-mitment with a new "virtue": open and honest communication in which everything at all times is considered negotiable except the individual's self-chosen objectified values. The study suggests, further, that American society lacks the identity which should have or could have emerged from the ordered freedom of practical rituals and moral structures which it has abandoned. Moreover, it seems unable to return to the "constitutive narrative" of its tradition, Beyond the Liberal Model because that would be perceived as opting for once-jettisoned oppressive structures. Consequently, the lonely, self-actualized, rugged individuals of the late, great American Empire--still not comprehending what it is that might assuage their longings--have taken collective refuge in a cor-porate bureaucracy of professional managers, therapists, and other ex-perts whose task it is to foster administrative centralization, to facilitate reciprocal tolerance, and to "empower" all citizens for institutional par-ticipation and creative innovation. The problem is, however, according to Bellah and his colleagues: It simply has not worked, and the seriously ill "social ecology" of American culture is very much in danger of per-manent demise. There are striking similarities between this sociological analysis of American culture and the current liberal model of active religious life for women. Tradition has been abandoned, and the past is perceived as op-pressive. Institutes have become business corporations, and governance has become collaborative administration. Structures have become parti-cipative, and superiors are now primarily managers. Formation person-nel and spiritual directors now function primarily as therapists. Facilita-tors are experts for achieving consensus formation, as well as catalysts for creative innovation. All members are becoming empowered for de-cision- making, although not many members claim responsibility for any particular decision. Obedience is increasingly negotiable, and personal fulfillment dominates most choices. Communities have become lifestyle enclaves composed of occasionally present, like-minded individuals. Eve-ryone is now somehow accountable, but few (if any) religious are called to accountability by anyone for anything. Communication is the cardi-nal virtue, and everyone is progressing towards greater self-actualization. The problem is, of course: It all simply does not work. American women religious today still seem not to have discovered what it is that might as-suage their longings, and the seriously ill social ecology of their lives is very much in danger of p~rmanent demise. The Psychology of Selfism Directly related to the sociological phenomena that seem to parallel the deconstruction of religious life is the psychological phenomenon that contemporary American culture, according to Bellah, is basically impov-erished by an insatiable preoccupation with self. In most cultures reli-gion is considered a primary source for character formation and for the development of social mores. However, in the psychology of selfism which seems to permeate American culture, the primary reality is the self that one's own unique choices have created. The isolated, self-created 1 ~14 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 individual then commits himself or herself to self-defined and self-defining decisions. In this ambiance, personality development and be-havior modification replace the character formation and the social mo-res that are ordinarily provided by traditional religion, because preex-isting principles for character or mores are perceived as either non-existent or unimportant. For selfism in America, the psychological myth of the intrinsically good Utopian self parallels and supports the social and political myths of the intrinsically perfect Utopian state, while the psychological ten-dency to self-indulgence both rationalizes and celebrates the consumer society. When the interior fiber for duty, patience, suffering, and self-sacrifice is absent or wanting in the individual, the psychology of selfism conveniently shifts a locus of responsibility for the vacuum or the defi-ciency to the failures and foibles of parents, siblings, associates, and cir-cumstances. Selfism also legitimizes and perpetuates the late-adolescent attitudes of routine rebellion, rejection of authority, and preoccupation with sex. In short, it appears to be a ready-made, perfect internal sup-port for the sociology of American liberal individualism. Obviously, in relation to religious life, the once-hidden issues of psy-chological development and emotional maturity have been a rather pub-lic part of the transition in institutes of women (and of men) since Vati-can II. It may be that women religious really were not emotionally well-prepared for so many drastic, rapid-fire changes in their lives and, fur-ther, that they have not handled them all that well in the long run. To be sure, the recent deluge of books, articles, programs, and apparent pana-ceas produced by religious and for religious on topics of maturity related to religious is overwhelming. Patently, the popularity of this genre among women religious is not indicative of merely occasional light read-ing for the already self-actualized and emotionally mature. Thus, it seems reasonable to suggest that American women religious might be suf-fering not only from the effects of American liberal individualism but also from some lack of maturity as a consequence of its underlying psy-chology of selfism. Absence of Charism Genuine charisms for consecrated lifeforms are windows on the Gos-pel that provide a vision So clear that founders and foundresses --and then their companions--seem compelled to "do likewise" and follow Jesus. Or, again, charisms might be described as good seeds growing in fertile ground in a particular time and place and having the capacity to Beyond the Liberal Model multiply and bear fruit and also to be transplanted successfully to other ages and other cultures. True charisms of religious life are founded on sound but supple structures, are surrounded by long-standing and forma-tive customs, are nourished by deep-rooted and healthy spirituality, are manifest in valuable and long-term ecclesial service, and are--most es-pecially-~ expressions of a meaningful and compelling way of following Jesus. Charisms are not constituted merely by being a particular-apos-tolic expression of a particular corporal or spiritual work of mercy, how-ever necessary and valuable such endeavors may be; nor can charisms be humanly built by "refounding" or personally manufactured by "reweaving." They are gifts received, embraced, and lived--with re-ceptive and responsive elements indispensable to their basic rea~].ty---or they are not true charisms at all. Unfortunately, when active institutes of women religious went in search of their roots in the mandated renewal subsequent to Vatican II, most were confronted with the absence of a genuine, unique charism. And most women's institutes apparently either could not or would not recognize that absence for what it really meant, namely: They actually had no sound structures, no formative customs, no deep-rooted spiritu-ality, no long-term ecclesial service, no meaningful and compelling way of life they could call their own. In short, they had no genuine spiritual patrimony or religious heritage to which they could return and from which they could move into the future. The absence of a genuine, unique charism in most women's:institutes explains in part why intercommunity living and common novitiates have been so readily initiated and so successful. One cannot imagine, for ex-ample, Jesuit men and Dominican men opting for total intercommunity living situations and sharing totally common novitiates as if there were no deep and visible, distinctly different elements in their charisms. Yet many women religious whose institutes claim unique charisms share com-munity living and novitiates on a regular basis and consider it a wonder-ful sign of progress in collaboration. Lack of charism in many :women's institutes also explains in part why they have been so readily eclectic in the process of spiritual renewal and why most supposedly pristine house-of- prayer movements have been so short-lived and superficial .3 Further, lack of charism explains in part why it has been so difficult for these in-stitutes to adapt and renew successfully in the postconciliar era. Indeed, the provinces of some men's institutes are actually more distinct in ex-pressions of their charism than are many independent institutes of women who attempted after the council to rewrite constitutions and fashion mis- 116 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 sion statements unique to them on the basis of their supposedly unique charisms. Though the fault for lack of charism was not theirs, the consequences for these institutes have been nearly fatal. Most--but not all--active in-stitutes of women religious founded in, or transferred to, this country in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries were either New World adapta-tions of ancient and medieval monastic communities, such as the Bene-dictines and the Dominicans, or groups of dedicated pioneer women re-sponding generously to the practical needs of an immigrant Church in frontier America. Some, such as the Ursulines and the Daughters of Char-ity, had never been allowed to embrace or live the authentic, original ex-pression of their charism, which is now recognized as the forerunner to the consecrated lifeform of secular institutes. All active women's insti-tutes in frontier America were forced by circumstance or mandate to adopt a semimonastic, conventual style of religious life whether or not this was appropriate to their current function or past experience. Struc-tures, as well as theology and spirituality and apostolate and customs, are integral to the authentic expression of a genuine, unique charism. Thus it is not surprising that progressive deconstruction in women's in-stitutes has been so rapid and so complete for those institutes which, when seeking their roots, found only a monastic heritage adapted to the structures of conventual religious life or found no heritage that ever re-ally fit into the structures of conventual religious life in the first place. Possibilities for the Future Suggestions have been made that, in order to survive, women reli-gious should respond more fully to the risks of opting for the poor, or expand their pluralistic polarization even further, or revitalize for the sake of mission, or manage systemic change more constructively, or com-bine judiciously with other institutes of similar heritage. But no degree of social-justice activity, no amount of pluralism, no programmed revitalization, no constructively managed change, and no combined mem-bership will supply for the absence of a charism, which simply cannot be summarily manufactured and without which no institute has any fu-ture. It is possible, however, that active institutes of women religious in America can consciously decide about their future in honest relationship to their past. Some may feel they have actually been successfully grafted into an ancient or medieval charism expressed in conventual form and may wish to continue that expression of religious life. Some may find Beyond the Liberal Model it more realistic to return to what was originally intended by the founder/ foundress even if that choice would place them today in a different ju-ridic category of consecrated lifeform, such as secular institutes. Others may find it more realistic for members to form totally different commu-nities in accord with the prevalent spectrum of conservative and tradi-tional ideologies among their membership. Still others may decide quite honestly that their time of existence and service in and through the Church is actually past and that their greatest present witness might be to go out of existence with dignity and grace. From my experience, those in positions of authority in many women's institutes either do not recognize or simply will not admit the above possibilities, just as they either do not recognize or will not admit that the present course of supposed renewal is toward eventual demise. And, from my experience, the members of most women's institutes either are unaware of what is actually happening or, being aware, sim-ply wish to stay the course because it appears or feels advantageous to them at the moment. In either case, the result is that members tend to choose for leadership only those persons who will perpetuate the status quo, which in turn continues the present direction of programmed decon-struction. Unfortunately, most women's institutes seem deaf to suggestions that current, supposedly great refounding trends are futile, not only because they are based primarily on product-oriented business-management mod-els, but also because there is--in most cases--actually nothing to re-found. Though most seem enthralled by distant visions of supposedly "new forms" of religious life, they seem not to see before their eyes the current practical drift of religious life in America to the practices and lifestyle of the already well-established category of secular institutes. Io fact, opting for secular-institute status might be a more honest way for some institutes to become what they were originally and are meant to be than is their present path of deconstruction under the ~uise of creating "new forms" of religious life. Finally, many women's institutes seem heartened by prospects of increased membership through mergers and un-ions as a recipe for survival. Although combining institutes may be a ju-dicious course of action in view of practical needs, those who look to this for survival should reread carefully the story of Gideon: There is no safety in numbers if you are not doing God's will in God's way; and if you are, numbers really do not matter very much at all. Although, from my experience, most active institutes of women re-ligious in America simply do not have the slightest idea where they are 1111~ / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 going or why, there are many members of many institutes who do want to go somewhere with meaning. While not wishing to return to the past, they also do not wish to abandon it, and they still hope for a future of renewed religious life somehow rooted in it. Unfortunately, current modes of participative consensus-model governance not only edit out such voices but also make it nearly impossible to know about or be in constructive contact with those who have similar desires. Perhaps, then, some hope for the future also can be found in more grassroots, intra- and inter-congregational communication by those who are both weary and wary of the present programmed deconstruction they experience. All that is really necessary for continuation in the present path of increased po-larization and progressive decline to the point of extinction is that enough women religious continue to say or do nothing about it. NOTES i The substantive content of this article is taken from a book chapter of the same ti-tle and is used with permission of the editors. See lus Sequitur Vitam: To Pier Huiz-ing in Recognition of a Life Dedicated to a Living Law in the Church, edited by James Provost and Knut Wall and scheduled for publicatiofl by Peeters of Leuven i.n February 1991. The book chapter is much longer, has a definitely canonical ori-entation, and contains numerous, lengthy, substantive footnotes. 2 See Marie Augusta Neal, From Nuns to Sisters: An Expanding Vocation (Mystic, Conn.:Twenty-Third'Publications, 1990), for her positions in general and pp. 126- 127, n. 9, for this quotation. More detailed comments on the survey are contained in the book chapter cited above, especially at footnotes 12 and 29-34. 3 See J.M.R. Tillard, "Vingt ans de grace?" in Vie Consacr~e 58 (1986): 323- 340. The S.P.E.A.K. Model: An Approach to Continuing Formation Mary Mortz, D.M.J. Sister Mary Mortz, D.M.J., serves as a provincial councilor for her province of the Daughters of Mary and Joseph. With her degree in rehabilitation and religious stud-ies, she teaches mentally and emotionally disturbed children. Her address is 419 East Lancaster Boulevard; Lancaster, California 93535. Continuing formation means that the work of God has begun, and we con-tinue to cooperate with his work in and through us. Many of our consti-tutions state that each of us as a perpetually professed religious is respon-sible for our own continuing formation, though we are accountable to com-munity leadership. We have workshop opportunities extended to us, but there still seems to be a void in terms of specific steps to take to know that we are really growing as much as the Lord is calling us to grow. Many articles written for us today in religious journals seem to re-flect a growing need for focus in this area of continuing formation. They address issues of the compulsions and codependency in our society and in our religious lives. These issues are influencing us spiritually, emo-tionally, relationally, physically, and in our ministry. Many of these ar-ticles conclude with the suggestion that the reader investigate the 12- step programs such as Alcoholics Anonymous. The S.P.E.A.K. model begins where these articles conclude, Many religious men and women are finding the 12-step journey to be a power-ful resource. This model comes from reflecting upon the experiences which many have shared with me--priests, religious men and women, and lay persons. It is a summary of what we have found to be helpful for us. It is offered as a resource tool for anyone looking for more spe-cific help in this deepening journey of spirituality and ministry. 189 190 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 Summary of the Model There are three parts which serve as the basis for the S.P.E.A.K. model. First, the 12 steps are used as concrete steps or tools for continu-ing growth. Second, it is holistic. It includes the aspects of our lives as people who are Spiritual, Physical, Emotional, Apostolic, and relational (Koinonia). Third, each person selects a formation companion. The reason for basing the model upon the 12 steps is that they have proved to be very effective for thousands of people as a tool for us to use to evaluate our level of trust in God, to examine our lives, to make changes when we see we need to do so, to maintain an abiding attitude of balance and prayer in our lives and in our ministry and relationships with others. As we look at these 12 steps taken as a group, it is very apparent that we are returning to all that has been best for us in our previous routines of the spiritual life: regular daily examen, confession and extraordinary confession, retreats, daily spiritual reading, prayer, community sharing of our growth with each other, and profound dedication to sharing the Good News with a troubled world. The reason for basing the model upon a holistic view is that it is very easy for us to allow one or two areas of life to receive our attention. The challenge of life is to live in such a wholesomely balanced way that we proclaim Jesus, his Spirit~-and his Father's love by being the wonder-fully created person we are called to be spiritually, physically, emotion-ally, relationally, and in our ministry. The reason for basing the model upon having a formation compan-ion is twofold. It is a privileged thing to have someone who loves us un-. conditionally, even when we let the other person really know us. This frees us to grow even more. Secondly, it helps us to become very, very honest with ourselves and with our God when we agree to share what is happening in our lives at a deep and personal level with at least one other human being. This facilitates an attitude of openness and honesty which is an essential prerequisite of continuing formation. The Twelve Steps It is important to remember that even though one of the areas of the S.P.E.A.K. model is the spiritual, all the areas of our life are permeated by the principles of the spiritual journey. We keep taking these steps over and over in all areas of life, and new insights become revealed to us. Per-haps it is no coincidence that there were 12 tribes, 12 apostles, and now the foundation of 12 steps! Sometimes it is said that a coincidence is a miracle when God chooses to be anonymous. The S.P.E.A.K. Model / "191 Orginally there were six steps as part of a spiritual movement called the Oxford movement, but those using these steps in A.A. realized they needed a little more guidance and expanded them to 12. The basic sense of these 12 steps can be divided into three groups. In steps 1-3 we come to a profound sense of what it means to really trust God. In steps 4-11, we clean our house, and continue to keep it clean. In step 12 we work to practice these principles in all our affairs, all as-pects of our lives. It can be a temptation for us to approach the steps rationally, to ana-lyze why they work. This is not the issue for those using the S.P.E.A.K. model. The issue is to walk these steps personally, humbly with heart, gut, and head. An analogy might be that we can read inspirational arti-cles about exercise and walking until the cows come home, but if we do not put one foot in front of the other and go walking, we cannot go very far or get in very good shape. Step One. We admitted we were powerless over life's conditions, that our lives had become unmanageable. (In the A.A. literature, this step reads, "We admitted we were powerless over alcohol--that our lives had become unmanageable." This is the only step that is changed in the S.P.E.A.K. model.) Even though other steps may seem to be more threatening in the be-ginning, it seems that the hardest step for us to take is step one. This is also the first be-attitude (Beatitude). The journey begins when we can finally be at a point in our lives where we are ready to surrender, to let go, to realize that there is something in our lives over which we have no control. Then we are ready to let God in to take over, to begin again in a new and deeper way this thing called his continuing formation. Our "something," our life condition, may be other people who are in our lives, some part of work, our relationships, our predominant com-pulsions, our health, our behavior, our self-perceptions, our resentments, fears, anxiety, our sin, our habits, our way of being "off the mark." There are many resources available to help us see our personal pow-erlessness. Some of these ways are: meditation using available schools of spirituality, or we might just sit, as in Zen guided ways, or use ap-proaches to centering prayer. We might pursue the insight into our par-ticular compulsions through the study of the Enneagram. We also might just listen to our own lives if we are having pain. Pain is a wonderful catalyst to growth! If we really want to take this step honestly, it is much easier if we share our "muddling through it" with another person. Whatever means Review for Religious, March-April 1991 we use, it is important to know that this S.P.E.A.K. model is not possi-ble until we take step one. Step Two. "Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity." Sanity means wholeness. It means balance. Once we find ourselves in real need of change, our challenge is to allow ourselves to "come to," to wake up as if from the slumber or self-delusion we were in. The only assent required at this step is to believe that we are not the center of our universe, that there is a power greater than ourselves, that we are loved, and that we can become powerfully renewed. Ephesians 4:22-24 is one of many texts which comes to mind at this step. You must give up your old way of life; you must put aside your old self, which gets corrupted by following illusory desires. Your mind must be renewed by a spiritual revolution so that you can put on the new self that has been created in God's way, in the goodness and holiness of truth. Step Three. "Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood him." This step leads us to accept God's power in our lives. In step two we may want the revolution to happen. We might believe it possible, but it is in step three that we make a specific decision to let go and to let God take over. Revolution means change, and that is what we give consent to in step three without controlling any part of it. When we speak of such trust, we are using our own words, our own sense of who, at this time, God is for me. We make a prayer of this step and share it with another hu-man being. These steps are not done in the dark, but we bring them to the light and speak them to another. Step Four. "Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of our-selves.". We all have instincts. Most fall into the areas of social instincts, secu-rity instincts, and sexual instincts. Again it seems no coincidence that our vows are in the areas of obedience, poverty, and chastity. In this step, we accept to look at our lives as the beginning of a lifetime prac-tice. We look in a searching way at fears, resentments, harms, and hurts we have done, and which have been done to us. We name the instincts which are threatened, and our responses to them. We come to see our not-so-good patterns, our character defects, and our gifts, our assets as well. We see how we have been growing, and how we have yet to grow. The word, "fearless" is very important~ If we find ourselves resist-ing this inventory, then there is nothing wrong with staying at steps one, The S.P.E.A.K. Model / 193 two, or three. When we have become tired of life's condition, when we can believe that we can change, when we have really taken step three, then step four will follow comfortably without fear. Step Five. "Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human be-ing the exact nature of our wrongs." In this step we invite another human being to be with us as we say out loud what we have learned in step four. There are many ways to do this, but as we come to name our patterns, our ways of responding, we gain insights, especially if the other person has taken this step, and truly loves us. To bring awareness before God is one thing, and it is beauti-ful. To bring awareness before God and another human being, to share it, to own it in the light is both beautiful and a blessing. This step helps us to stop isolating, to experience many profound les-sons in humility, to experience a whole new sense of kinship, of one-ness with others and with God. This kinship opens us to a connected-ness with whole new insights into the human condition, our place in the world, and a God consciousness which becomes a personal experience. Step Six. "Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character. ' ' After the insights are gained in step five, more action is required. We do not only gain insight on this spiritual journey, but we use the in-sights. We made a decision in step three to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood him; now in this step we real-ize that we are still very resistant people. We have worked hard to de-velop the defects we have. We wonder, "Who am I if I let go of them?" We even let ourselves chuckle at how we are as self-centered little chil-dren, and pray to get ready to let go of those defects of our character which we have learned about. Sometimes we say, "Of course I want them taken away," and this step is easy, but if that is not our experience at any given time, we accept to admit this is the step we are taking. Step Seven. "Humbly asked him tO remove our shortcomings." When we feel we are in charge, we try to use willpower, or positive imaging instead of taking this step. This step calls for us again to admit our powerlessness, our need for God. It is ego puncturing because we admit we cannot do this of ourselves. As St. Paul says. "I do the things I do not want to do." This step frees us from the trap of pride and fear. Little by little after we take this step, we find ourselves thinking differ-ently, feeling differently, r.esponding differently. People and situations around us change, if we have prayed our own seventh step prayer out loud with another human being. 194 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 Step Eight. "Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became will-ing to make amends to them all." In religious life many of us were trained to forgive., forgive. forgive. This is essential; however, the eighth step helps us to focus on the resentments, the fears, the harms, and the hurts of our lives by paying attention to our responses. We can forgive and fester externally or internally for a long, long time! As we shared our fifth step, we became aware of ways in which our responses might have "needed improvement," or perhaps we were out-and- out vindictive. This step is best taken with another person to help us be thorough, to help ourselves not to hide, to isolate, or to be too hard on ourselves. Again, if this becomes fearful, perhaps there is a need to look at how badly we want this growth, the quality of our surrender and trust, and the reality of our seventh step. But we can also remember we are only making a list in this step. Step Nine. "Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, ex-cept when to do so would injure them or others." This step is also best discerned with another person, both to keep us honest as well as to help us figure out the best way to go about this ac-tion. Sometimes a person has died. Sometimes the person has moved, or we moved away. A letter might be enough, or we might need to wait to see her or him again. Sometimes it is best to let it go, and our forma-tion companion can help us decide when this is really true. Regardless, the freedom which comes inside us as we become ready to take responsibility for the consequences of our behavior is very exhilarating. Step Ten. "Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it." In order for the spiritual revolution to continue, we need to remain ready. Step ten is really a daily, weekly, monthly, and annual review of steps two through nine. There are many ways and resources available to us to use in this step. One way is to allow our dreams to happen, to write them down, to "mull over" their meaning with our formation compan-ion. Another is to be faithful to writing in a notebook of some sort a mini-fourth step, a summary of the good and the not-so-good of the day, to share it, then to do steps six through nine with what we learn. The more we do this, the easier and more comfortable it becomes. Step Eleven. "Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our con-scious contact with God as we understood him, praying only for knowl-edge of his will for us and the power to carry that out." The S.P.E.A.K. Model I 195 As we do the preliminary steps and work this step, we find that every-thing else is also "falling into place." We work this step as humble, empty vessels who know our need for God. We accept to be still, to lis-ten, to receive. Just as we could use the many resources available to us in the Church to take step one, we can also draw upon these resources to help us deepen in step eleven. There are three centers out of which we operate--the gut, the head, and the heart. Our predominant sin is located in there somewhere, and so is our growth. Perhaps centering prayer, the prayer of nothingness, is our vehicle. Perhaps more head-centered meditation on Scripture and spiritual teach-ings is our vehicle. Perhaps contemplation of images and affective re-sponse to them serve as our vehicle. Perhaps being with nature, or litur-gical celebrations, or devotions become our vehicles. The important thing is that we be as we are called to be. We have learned in these steps to let go and let God. If we share how we feel with our formation com-panion, this step becomes a profound and nourishing experience. In this step an awakening happens which leads us to hunger after holi-ness (wholeness) in all areas of our life. Our emotions become balanced. Our bodies seek proper rest, work and play rhythms, food and drink. We hunger for a sharing of peace and reconciliation in our relationships and in the world. We find ourselves led deeply to the roots of our religious lives, to a sense of meaning of sacrament and church, of our community's charism, and we become ready to witness this new sense in our relation-ships and in our ministry. Step Twelve. "Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to others, and to practice these prin-ciples in all our affairs." We have received a free gift. We can work to keep it alive, but if we hold on to it exclusively, it becomes stagnant. That is the nature of the spiritual journey. As a result of these steps, we have known a spiri-tual awakening. We have known love, a God and Gospel consciousness at a personal level. The irony of this love is that we must let it go if we are to hold on to it. Anything we used to hold on to is constantly chal-lenged by the gift of our new God-relationship. We find ourselves driven to live right attitudes--to develop God attitudes, the be-attitudes, to do his Way in all of our life. Select a Formation Companion We have a long-standing precedent for having a spiritual compan- Review for Religious, March-April 1991 ion within the Church as well as within many of the Oriental religions. However, even though we have been encouraged to avail of spiritual direc-tors, many religious have not availed themselves of these opportunities. This was for a variety of reasons. Some wondered what there was to talk about. Some could not find someone who felt qualified. Some used a con-fessor, and kept the focus more sin-and problem-centered. Some used spiritual directors, but restricted the interactions to areas of the spiritual domain. Others have used a spiritual director as a formation companion without naming the person as such. This latter group knows the power and potential for having a formation companion. The qualification for being someone's companion is that we are also working these steps, and sharing honestly of ourselves with someone. No advanced degrees are required because it is humility found in a relationship with God that we seek. The formation companion could be male or female, priest, religious, or lay person. What is important for us is that our companion understand these steps, and be willing to walk with us as we journey them. The criterion we use to ask someone to serve as our formation com-panion is that we feel this person cares for us, has common sense,~,and is also working a "formation program." Our companion calls us to honesty and celebrates growth with us, but this person does not attempt to fill any need other than serving as the formation companion. As we grow, we may find ourselves broadening and using many others to share our journey. We may use physicians, psy-chologists, a spiritual support group, the people with whom we live, other friends, our superiors, our employers, a confessor. The Areas of the S.P.E.A.K. Model Spiritual The steps lead us completely in this area. As we grow in this spiri-tual revolution and in union through steps one through eleven, we de-velop insights that lead us to hunger for balance in the other areas. We find that as we deepen and grow in this area, if there has been careless-ness in the communal expression of our prayer, even this turns around. We soften. We find time where time was not to be found before. We hun-ger to be with each other in our religious expression as well as in the deeper leadings of the area of Koinonia. Physical The body is essential for us if we are to operate as feeling, relating The S.P.E.A.K. Model / 197 human beings. It is a vital source for information about our lives, and a key support for us to function in all areas. Our bodies can be scream-ing warnings to us if we will pay attention. For example, our bodies tell us if we are suppressing feelings or living relationships in ways that are dishonest to ourselves or to others. We can experience gastrointestinal problems, ulcers, high blood pressure, cancer, and back problems. If there is rigidity in the muscles, there is often rigidity in the emotions and spirit. The challenge of this area is to listen to the cues, to work the steps to learn what is happening, and to develop habits which are life-giving, respectful, and nurturing for the body as well as the other areas of our lives. If we listen to the input of others as well as observe our own lives, we may see that we are making body choices which are harmful to the other S.P.E.A.K. areas. For example, we might be choosing the use of substances such as nicotine, caffeine, alcohol, or sugar as substitutes for feeling, or to fill emotional, spiritual, or relational lack. In addition to life choices which affec( our continuing formation, there are those choices for fast food, for beef, for comfort and conven-ience which have implications for the rest of the world's famine and un-dernutrition. Part of the challenge of this area is the aspect of practicing the physi-cal and spiritual discipline of fasting to detoxify and rebalance the body, to reverse even degenerative illness, and to bring ourselves into a deeper harmony with others. Just as we need to keep working these steps in the other areas where physical inertia is seen, we have a cue that an imbalance is happening, and an opportunity to reflect upon the reason for this shutdown. Inertia is life denying. The body requires regular aerobic movement to increase the circulatory flow, the metabolic rate for heart, skeletal and muscular tone, for body conditioning, and to allow for oxygen to get to the brain. Emotional One of the promises of the awakening which we experience in step eleven is a sense that emotional balance and wholeness are happening. Before we experience this balance, however, we would have taken some serious steps to be ready for inner healing. These steps take time, and as we learn more about who we are, we can continue to share this with another, work with it, work these steps and deepen. Perhaps as we did our inventory, we saw patterns of overinflated or underinflated self-esteem, patterns of overe.ngagement in activity or serv-ice, perfectionism, depression, fear, resentments. Perhaps we saw that 198 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 we isolate from others, do not share our feelings. Perhaps we give our love and attention to pets, compare ourselves to others, blame others, feel jealous, judge people's motives, interpret others' motives to others, think rigidly either positively or negatively about others, isolate ourselves from others or hide our feelings or practice. Perhaps we use food or drink, work, sex to hide from feelings. The task of these steps is to bring the darkness to light, that the dark-ness may lose its power over us. In the S.P.E.A.K. model, we practice naming our feelings, reflecting upon what happens to trigger them, look-ing at our instincts which we perceive as being threatened and at our re-sponses to these threats. As we practice this and work steps two through nine, we find ourselves growing much stronger, more serene, more pow-erful, and more humble. Apostolic Today's society, the "world" of St. John's gospel, rewards us if we have power. We are encouraged to become specialists. This applies to the areas of medicine, psychology, sbcial work, education, spiritual direction, and pastoral ministry. It is easy for us to be sensitive to our congregational financial pressures, to time demands, and to be seduced by this world. For those walking the Gospel path, working the 12 steps, the value of our apostolic mission is in living out our spiritual awakening and ex-perience. This is why the spiritual, emotional, and koinonia areas are so important as prerequisites to ministry. Our mission is to be the charism of our congregations in deep solidarity with the anguish which is under-neath all the glitter of power and success. If we are not yet comfortable with our own anguish, and with sharing it with others, we cannot con-vey this experience to others. As Nouwen says, our leadership, our value lies in that we dare to claim our irrelevancy in the contemporary world. We are parts of insti-tutions, but our challenge is to be humble, to work these steps, to walk a spiritual path, to reflect the koinonia attitude in how we reflect the mer-ciful love and justice of God with others. Koinonia In the 12 steps, we come to let go of fears or pseudocommunity pre-tenses, self-seeking, and control. The 12 steps help us to relate more hon-estly, more compassionately to the people with whom we live and work, but there is anoiher dimension beyond this. Koinonia is a Greek word meaning "a deep sense of interconnectedness, of communion with oth- The S.P.E.A.K. Model ers at the faith level." Rollo May suggests that our entire culture is schizoid, out of touch, avoiding close relationships, unable to feel, unable to express aggressive feelings directly, seclusive and personally withdrawn. In this koinonia area we measure our lifestyles against the radical demands of the Gos-pel model of Jesus. We contrast it with the dominant values of society, the dependencies, the addictions, the fear, and the lack of touch. Koinonia challenges us to see the whole world as a community. Our new spiritual awakening leads us to hunger to create a new civilization in which war, violence, terrorism, and oppression are banished. We know from our own personal experience that another way is possible. No one of us can do this of ourselves, but just as the early Church persisted, and pervades the earth today, so can we, one small community at a time! For interrelatedness to happen in this world, people have to be in-terrelating; then God takes over and lets the miracles happen. We let go, and let him. The challenge of koinonia is for us to drop pretenses, to leave the door open for others to see us cry, to be with us as we grow, to hear our laughter, to let people see how we love each other. From this koinonia sense, we grow to be able to include others, to let them walk in and touch us so that even more of us are empowered to know and wit-ness to his Good News. Summary The power of the S.P.E.A.K. model lies in our openness to continue to let go, to let God be God in our lives. We use and continue to use the 12 steps and a formation companion so that we deepen in a personal relationship with him. We work and pray to be teachable spiritually, physi-cally, emotionally, relati0nally, and in our ministry, not for ourselves, but so that a troubled world may know what w.e see, and hear, and know. As a direct result of working this program, of walking these steps, we find that we no longer have to hold up masks of spiritual perfection since we are "professional," vowed religious. Instead, we have become free to share our struggle with others as equals in his love. We share our spiritual progress. We do not need to be self-protective anymore, but our arms are open to include others. There is nothing to fear because there is nothing to protect. If there is concern as to how to start with these twelve steps, there are often ready and available resources in each local parish and in many retreat houses and religious communities. Many parishes have good solid parish leaders who are recovering from some compulsive pattern or ad-diction. These people are more than ready to share the Good News with 200 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 us. Also, many religious communities and retreat houses have members in 12-step programs, or who have learned of these steps by exploring them in their own lives. These people are also usually more than gener-ous in sharing what they have seen and heard with their own eyes and ears. 'RESOURCES Alcoholics Anonymous.Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions. New York: Alcohol-ics Anonymous World Services, Inc., 1981. Elgin, Duane. Voluntary Simplicity: Toward A Way of Life That Is Outwardly Sim-ple, Inwardly Rich. N.Y.: William Morrow & Co., 1981. Hart, Thomas N. The Art of Christian Listening. N.Y.: Paulist Press. 1980. Main, John, O.S.B. Death: The Inner Journey. Montreal: Benedictine Priory, 1983. Nouwen, Henri. With OutStretched Hands: Reflections on Christian Leadership in the Future. Unpublished paper, 1989. Palmer, Helen. Enneagram: Understanding Yourself and the Others in Your Life. San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988. Peck, M. Scott. The Different Drum: Community Making and Peace. New York: Si-mon & Shuster, 1987. Schaef, Anne W. Co-Dependence: Misunderstood--Mistreated. Minneapolis, MN: Winston Press, 1986. Sperry, Len. "Daily Decisions About Nutrition." Human Development 9 (Spring, 1988). Pp. 40-46. Subby, Robert, and Fried, John. "Co-Dependence: A Paradoxical Dependency," in Co-Dependency! An Emerging Issue, Pompano Beach, Florida: Hath Communi-cations, 1984. Trungpa, Chogyam. Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism. Boston: Shambala, 1973. In the Valley of Decision Marie Beha, O.S.C. Sister Marie Beha, O.S.C., continues to reside in the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 N. Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. In the early days of my religious life, one Sunday a month was set aside as a day of recollection, a retreat day. Out of earshot of the novice di-rector, we called it "dead Sunday," because it featured extra time for a meditation on death. Even though we resisted some of the more mor-bid descriptions following that meditation's first prelude, "Place your-self on your deathbed," the practice did ensure that we were regularly confronted with the realization of personal mortality. Today there are plenty of other reminders: tragedy that shouts in the headlines and is pictured in all its starkness on television or in the news magazines, the alarming statistics of the rising number of adolescent sui-cides, the toll of AIDS, the senseless slaughter of innocent victims in bombing raids, and the torture of random hostages. To this litany we add our more personalized grief over the death of family and friends. We know dying in all of its unexpectedness, its violence, its tragedy, our grief compounded the closer we are to the individuals who have died. And in our world of instant communication death is never very far away. What we are less familiar with is the dying of our institutions, our communities. Not that this is a new phenomenon either. It is as much a fact of life as the death of individuals but less perceptible except with the long look of history. By the time that history notices, however, those with most reason to mourn have already passed th.rough death them-selves. Yet institutional dying is an ever present reality. On the global level we are threatened by almost certain extinction if nation against nation 201 202 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 ever turns to nuclear war. We face the unknown consequences of our wan-ton destruction of rain forests centuries in the growing. We worry about environmental pollution passing on to the next generation, an earth poi-soned beyond, control. We experience that our technology so outstrips our wisdom that we may be as likely to kill as to cure. On the local level, that of the communities where we live, we con-front death every time a neighborhood is ripped up to make way for prog-ress or a business closes because of obsolescence. Families come to the end of the generations, as they have always done, but now the very in-stitution of the family itself seems doomed to extinction. Divorce, child-less marriages, abortion, weaken it from within, while drugs and the value-system of a consumer society attack it from without. Churches are empty so parishes close, following the demise of the parochial school. Religious communities face not only financial crises of major proportions but also the slow starvation of fewer and fewer vocations. Already some congregations are opting for survival through merger; others have been "suppressed," as the death process is termed, grimly enough, in Church law. Within the foreshortened history of our individual lives, we can no longer deny the mortality of our institutions; we are being invited to en-ter consciously into what is happening all around us. We become aware that some communities simply expire, brought down by their own dis-eased condition or their inability to receive from, or give life to, the world around them. They starve to death. Others die honorably and natu-rally of old age. Some fade away forced by circumstances to accept their growing irrelevance; others are felled by revolution while still in their prime. The question is not "Do institutions die?" but "How do they? And how do we respond to their dying?" Are we aware or do we prefer the apparent safety of denial? When denial is no longer possible, what do we do then? Rage against the inevitable? Give up? Bargain for more time? Or do we face institutional death with courage, living the present to the full, admitting that life's precariousness is part of its preciousness? The choice of response is ours, not only as individuals, but as commu-nities. Instant communication provides information; it does not ensure adequate response nor delay death's inevitability. Institutions must die, but how they die is a matter of decision. Ours! Theological Reflections for a Dying Community On our way north we had stopped overnight, availing ourselves of the gracious hospitality that had suggested, "Come anytime." The build- In the Valley of Decision / 203 ing was 1950-modern, far too large for the eight or so sisters who pres-ently occupied it. The refectory seemed cavernous; it could easily have seated forty. Mercifully the community room was small and cozy, the superior.exp!aining that it had once been the priest's dining room. She also mentioned that the third floor was closed off to save heat, and it was obvious that the second floor was sparsely populated. The situation was depressingly familiar. What was remarkable was the sense of joy that made supper a re-freshment for body and spirit. The sisters welcoming us ranged in age from the superior in her late 40s, who had introduced herself as "the only young sister here," to an octogenarian busily can'ying in dishes from the kitchen. I was seated next to a sister in a wheel chair who had been brought in by another sister who seemed to be using the wheel chair as a substitute walker. Both smiled a sincere welcome, "We are so glad to have you with us." Others gathered and I guessed the average age somewhere in the 70s. The conversation soon revealed that most were active in one way or another. Some spoke of bringing Communion to the sick; others of tutoring kids from the nearby elementary school. One 85- year-old had tales to tell of the black children she helped in a Head Start program; her love for the children was obvious. Another drew her chair closer to mine, saying that she did not hear well anymore and did not want to miss a word; her attentiveness the rest 6f the meal made us all more articulate. Table conversation included convent trivia but it did not stay there. The sisters read widely and well. They ~ere critical of what the~ had heard on TV, exchanged evaluations of VCR programs. And peppered me with good questions in a way that told me why they were so well in-formed about what was happening in the contemporary Church. When they welcomed visitors, these sisters welcomed the wider world. Towards the end of the meal, I deliberately intoned the familiar list of religious-life woes: few recruits, shrinking apostolates, the "greying" of the congregation. The facts were acknowledged. The sisters' response was obviously the fruit of many shared reflections. They were happy with the community they had chosen and the life they shared; now they would see each other through to the end. God was with .them, still at work in his world. As one said to me with a smile that I will never for-get, "Our community may be dying but God is making something new. ' ' As I threaded my way back to the freeway next morning, I found my-self reflecting on what I had heard and seen. There was no denial of 91~4 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 death. The shrinking number of sisters and their physical limitations were accepted facts of life; they were not neurotic preoccupations. The sisters were too alive for that. Their acceptance was not tainted with hopeless-ness and its equivalent suicide. They were not actualizing their worst fears by giving in to bitterness or despair. Today their community is alive; some tomorrow it might not be. Progression toward an end time is inevitable, whether it is their owndeath, that of the their beloved con-gregation, or the final days of the world. "And after that the judg-ment"., a judgment that is in the making in their response now. Im-plicit in the faith of these few old sisters was a whole theology of the death and dying of institutions. Awareness precedes acceptance. So faith-response to death and dy-ing begins by breaking through denial. Like the middle-aged woman look-ing in the mirror and acknowledging that the first wrinkles are more than shadows caused by poor lighting, all need to admit "We are moving to-ward death." This world is passing away and the institutions that pres-ently shape it will not always do so. Even now all are dying. At times this process accelerates and we experience the diminish-ment. The grace of such periods is that of bringing us into contact with a truth we too easily ignore; its occasion of sin is confusion in our re-sponse. There are seasons when death's approach must be resisted strongly; in fact, this is always our first response. "Choose life." But there comes a time when resistance is useless; surrender is called for. The difference between may be difficult to recognize but it is critically im-portant. Faith's response balances "choose life" with "accept death." For the believer, for the community of believers, the ultimate answer is not biological, nor sociological, but Christological. "Am I alive in Christ? Is my dying a going to the Father in and with Christ Jesus?" If so, my death is a coming alive. "Or am I mortally, morally, and spiritually sick unto eternal death?" Then my living and my dying are both lost forever. Responding to this question that all death and dying puts before us forces freedom's choice. Our answer rises out of life; it is the last sylla-ble in the sentence we have been phrasing in all the pronouncements of life, all individual or institutional decision-making. Only in death will we become finally free to speak the word that is Self. Only in the act of dying will we, individuals and communities, be capable of that con-summation of freedom which is total, absolute, commitment. In dying, the mystery of living stands revealed; dying-rising are one whole mystery, one continuous process, one word, even though our ex- In the Valley of Decision / 205 perience, as well as our orthography, spells it with a hyphen. Dying is a breakthrough into life; at least, it can be. That is freedom's choice; we determine the meaning. Just as Jesus did. Dying: Christological Implications. How did Jesus die? The answer has been repeated so often that the cross has lost its power to say anything; it is decoration more than real-ity. Yet redemption, becoming free, growing into holiness, are only pos-sible when we as individuals, as communities, enter into the passion and death of Jesus. So again, how did Jesus die? As we do, moving through the process of realizing it, being angered by it, bargaining with it, feeling blackness of depression, and, finally, coming to an acceptance that transforms death into fuller life. Particularly in the gospel of Luke, we see the whole life of Jesus as a moving toward his death. We read, "He set his face toward Jerusa-lem" (Lk 9:51). This was where he was going, the call of his Father's .love, the motivation for his every redemptive act. Death and dying were important concerns he spoke about to those who were closest to him. Not that they understood or appreciated such reminders of mortality. They denied the facts, even protested. They were for kingdom building here, now, in their world. And Jesus rebuked them sharply, "Get behind me, satan" (Mk 8:33). Jesus acknowledged death's inevitability; he knew that his way of liv-ing would lead to the cross. What he chose was life, a life that would climax in death. He freely accepted the fatal consequences of choosing to live, to teach, to act as he did. Aware and able to choose, in the free-dom that rose from who he was before the Father, he embraced the dy-ing that went with the living. Knowing and accepting did not rule out protest. Jesus' response to the pharisees who were seeking to put him to death (Jn 8:40) was clear and unequivocal. They were doing the work of the devil, whose sons they were! Even at the end, Jesus protested the injustice of his being con-demned to death. He refused to cooperate with Herod's court of inquiry, remaining silent when lifesaving prudence might have dictated at least a minimum of cooperation. Before Pilate, his protest became vocal. "Do you ask this of your own accord. ? . My kingdom is not of this world" (Jn 18:35). Previous to this, the power of his self-assertion directed against the soldiers sent to arrest him had set them back on their heels. Jesus was angry; he did not deserve death. "If I have done good why do you seek 206 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 to kill me?" Why die? Why me? That is the protest life addresses to death. Ultimately it becomes a question addressed to the Lord of life. Why suffering? Why dying? The answer does not come easily. The healthier the person, the more wrench-ing the acceptance. Jesus sweat blood before his will could speak out its central commitment, "Not my will but yours be done" (Mk 14:37). The struggle, the bargaining, were finished. The passion continued. The dying of Jesus moved toward completion, each stage bringing him down, deeper into "the pit of death." Betrayal, abandonment, physi-cal and emotional abuse would take their terrible toll. Fastened to the cross Jesus would drink death's cup to the bitter dregs. He would express heartbreak in a cry of desolation, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" (Mk 15:34). "He who did not know sin had been made sin" (2 Co 5:21) for our sake, and Jesus felt the oppression of slavery and alienation. He accepted, "It is accomplished" (Jn 19:30). His last word summed up his life's orientation. He would die as he had lived into the hands of his Father, his trust redeeming the horror of death by cruci-fixion, transforming passion's suffering into self-offering. The acceptance of Jesus' surrender opened out into the new life of resurrection. What he gave up, he received back; rather, his resurrection was a "making new." Through dying, he went beyond death. This is now clear to us with the evidence of something accomplished. But for Jesus, as for us, surrender into death was an act of faith, an experience of letting go with only trust to justify the risk. Death must come first, before new life is possible. Jesus had to lose his life. So must we. Mortality Denied The passion and death of Jesus is invitation, something we can freely enter into or can refuse and resist. Whatever our choice, the process ton-tinues but its effectiveness depends radically on our response to this fact of life, our mortality as individuals and as communities. We can opt to live through our dying or we can choose to deny death and so die to life. Denial is the first of our resistances. A community, for example, can refuse to face what is happening, as the number of new members de-creases and average age rises. Data are challenged; the credentials of the statistician questioned. Others are blamed for the crisis; "they" are no longer generous, interested, concerned. These are obvious forms of de-nial and they do nothing to stop the progress of decline. Less obvious is the denial that refuses to face, not only the symp-toms, but the cause of the illness as well, its seriousness, the rate of pro-gression, its effect on others. Why is community dying? Is it diseased, In the Valley of Decision / 207 brought down by "infection" from surrounding culture or by a lifestyle that is no longer functional? Or is it simply succumbing to old age, the inevitable decline that is the underside of history's progress? Is this pro-cess reversible, something that a group needs to pass through and then go on with life as before? Or does it require a change of direction, a new and different way of living? Is this illness terminal? If so, how much time is left? How rapid the progression of present rates of decline? Howare others affected by our dying as community? Are they suffering too, and what can be done to alleviate their pain? The questions are stark; no one asks them lightly. Unwillingness to even look at them is denial made possible through the use of those de-fense mechanisms with which we are all too familiar. We rationalize, pre-senting specious reasons to explain present experience: we are not dy-ing, just "indisposed." The whole problem is temporary; things will turn around soon. Besides we are not to blame. The reverse side of this stance.is: some-body must be. We blame other people, including God! Our dying is the will of God and so must be accepted. Perhaps. "God willing" may ex-press surrender but it may also attribute to God something that we have not yet faced. The very rightness of our reasoning is all the more dan-gerous because it cloaks denial with religious ritual, an especially safe form of repression. Paradoxically, community may also deny responsibility by giving too much credence to those who are predicting its demise; it lacks the inner freedom to reply, "The reports of our death are greatly exagger-ated!" While the prophets of doom may be correct, they may also be mis-taken. The accuracy of their prophecies will only be revealed when the future becomes present. All we know now is that attitude makes a dif-ference. While refusing to acknowledge the seriousness of the situation will not cure it, giving up hope will surely condemn us to death. Another inappropriate response attempts to ignore the whole ques-tion and continues, doggedly, to do what "we have always done." We may call this fidelity but it is not. Fidelity is creative response incorpo-rating past into present and moving on into the new of the future. Denial condemns to fruitless repetition that goes nowhere. Preoccupation with safety and security needs is a rather accurate index of a group's mori-bund condition. Overreliance on what has worked in the past may simu-late faith, but it really is presumption. "God will take care of us" may be just another attempt to manipulate God into doing what we neglect to do for ourselves. 2011 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 Denial is failed responsibility; it violates the delicate line of balance between doing all that we can but not more than we ought. So commu-nity that is experiencing some of the symptoms of approaching death errs either by ignoring the situation or by exaggerating solutions. It can, for example, refuse assistance, since accepting help involves admitting a need for it. It can also erupt in a flurry of poorly planned activity, lis-tening to every guru who promises gilt-edged salvation. Fund-raisers can be a preferred way for Americans to refuse responsibility while appear-ing to assume it. Community Anger The hidden blessing of denial is its inevitable failure. When facts can no longer be avoided, they must be faced. Anger follows. Unfortunately, it too can be denied, hidden, buried under heaps of inappropriate behav-ior, deflected in projections; or it can rage out of control, leaving devas-tation in its wake. Anger denied is dangerous; anger accepted and appropriately ex-pressed is powerful energy for good. It can move a community deeper into the paschal mystery; it can lead to life. The question is how? The first answer: by acknowledging what is happening. Are we as commu-nity angry? What are we angry about? Community anger, like that of individuals, is often misplaced. It looks for some convenient target; so we kick the dog because we cannot face its owner. Seeking some scapegoat we may even turn against our own. If our predecessors had only been wiser. If present membership were less selfish, recruitment more effective, formation better planned. What may have been only contributing factors are made to bear the whole weight of adequate causes. The same projection of anger can be vented on persons and groups outside community. The more helpless the victim, the safer the outrage. An angry community becomes increasingly critical. Its spirit grows sour; its activity strained and harsh. It asks too much of members and of others. Aggressivity swallows up joy, dissolves compassion. Dying is always pain-filled, difficult. Anger is a "messy" emotion. Commu-nity at this stage will be broken wide open, all its wounds and weak-nesses revealed. Members will leave, pursued by the fury of those who remain and feel abandoned. Those who stay may wallow in unattractive self-pity, becoming entrenched in the very symptoms of the dying. Underneath this storm of pain, community is most of all angry at it-self. We cannot live "on our own"; mortality strikes a vital blow at the myth of .self-sufficiency. The length of our days is not something we con- In the Valley of Decision / 209 trol. Our raging against this will not change its truth. Acceptance is the only way through and out. Grief Work But first community needs to mourn. We are losing our life. We may not know yet whether what we are facing is the final test of death and burial or only the call to pass through another cycle of dying. In either case we must enter into the pain. Grievir~g community needs both time and distance. Some members can let go of the.past more quickly than others, the rate being determined by such variables as temperament and degree of attachment. Mourning demands patience; it is not just linear but cyclic. Going through requires repetition, reexperiencing and reexpressing the grief. Things will not be the same . . . ever., this is an ending. Community needs to provide itself with space and time for the griev-ing. When members leave, for example, those who are left behind may have as much adjusting to do as those who face the transition into new beginnings. The anger of the community may even be increased by the fact---characteristic of all our dying--that it has been confronted with a decision not of its own choosing. Healthy grieving not only takes time; it has its own timing. How long it lasts and how often the cycle of anger., depression., anger. must be repeated cannot be determined from outside community. But, finally, a group, as well as the individuals who compose it, need to make a decision to move on. We will never be the same. The past cannot be reconstructed; nor those who have been part of us, returned. As much as we might like to remember past glory-days, they no longer offer the satisfaction of present reality. Now we have to live., or not live. in the present. Unhealthy grieving fails this reality test. It can be so prolonged that all one's life energy goes into it; dying is all that remains of life. That is not grief but defeat. Even in the pain the option remains to "choose life." So a community that is dying can continue to model attitudes of openness and concern for others. It can choose to serve as long and as much as it is able. In doing so it affirms the ultimate value of life even in the midst of death. Community can avoid the withdrawal, the turning in on self, that threatens to allow dying to become a form of being buried alive. De-pression risks just such introversion. Granted that the temptation to al-low pain to become preoccupation can be great, it is also self-defeating. It only intensifies and prolongs the suffering. Depression that is indulged 910 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 in grows bitter and that is the worst kind of death; in the end, the natural aloneness of dying becomes enforced isolation. To avoid this, outside support is almost necessary to assist groups working through depression. Their greater objectivity enables com-munity not to get stuck in the process. Perhaps all that others do is to name what is going on and this already frees energies. While ac-knowledgment is one service others render, appreciation is still more thera-peutic. ApFreciation of what has been, yes, but also gratitude for the im-mediate gift that the dying community continues to offer, its participa-tion in the paschal mystery. Acceptance of Death Acceptance should not image supine submission to what can no longer be avoided. It is an attitude of strength that kno

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

Issue 67.4 of the Review for Religious, 2008. ; Personal Witness Heart -Knowledge, .Spiritual Reflection QUARTERLY 67.4 2008 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih 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 Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 5.5806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2008 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 distribution, 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. ~ gournal of Catholic ~pir~ual~ for 0 religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scop~ Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 67.4 2008 contents 340 prisms Prisms 342 personal witness Thomas Merton's Legacy: A Personal Reflection Richard Hauser SJ gives personal witness to Thomas Merton's influence in five areas of spirituality: models of spirituality, personal prayer, the sacred and the secular, nonviolence, and interreligious understanding. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion 358 Our Ethnicity.en Route to God Ruth Bolarte IHM, recalling her early religious formation as a Peruvian woman in the United States, points out the need for everyone's ethnic cultural roots to be recognized and made good use of in spiritual direction and in faith and religious-life education. 366 heart knowledge Constitutions and Heart Knowledge Beatrice Eichten OSF proposes that women and men religious may ~ell review their ¢onstitntions and question how they live out in practice their co ,mmunity life and governance today. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Revie~ for Religious 380 Can New Life Arise from the Rule Book? 386 Nestor Gregoire OMI suggests ways that the Rule Book of a religious congregation can become user friendly and be a part of the community's prayer life. Monasticism's Rooted Adaptations Joel Rippinger OSB paints a picture of the contemporary demands on the monastic community and the adaptation required to remain true to monastic life. 392 4O4 413 Revisiting Hope William P. Clark OMI ruminates on all the richness that the virtue of hope gives to our daily living and to our witness-ing to our Christian faith. Becoming All Fire: Thoughts on Religious Identity Hedwig Lewis SJ offers reflections on the Jesuit as "a man on fire" in the light of Decree 2 of General Congregation 35. Though applied here to the Society of Jesus, the ideas have relevance for all women and men religious and for others who desire greater commitment to the Lord. A Source for Prayer Undreamt Of A. Paul Dominic SJ proposes ways that we might find content for our prayer in the dreams that God may use in speaking to us. 425 Scripture Scope: The New Perspective on St. Paul 430 Canonical Counsel: The Lacuna Canon: Common and Constant Opinion 435 Book Reviews 443 2008 Index 339 67.4 2008 prisms 3401 Nvember is the month in the Catholic liturgical tradition devoted to a commemoration of the faithful departed. We remember, those who have died and now have a different role to exercise in the communion of the saints. We remind ourselves that death is not an end, but rather a door passed through to life forever. Some years ago the Jesuit theologian Karl Rahner wrote a long essay in the Quaestiones Disputatae series entitled On the Theology of Death. One of the challenges that Rahner pre-sented was for us to view death as a beginning. Obviously in our Christian faith in the resur-rection of the body we acknowledge that in dying we rise to new life. Although physical death can be seen as an end, that same death can be seen as a beginning. Rahner, however, was drawing our atten-tion to how we prepare for our Christian death by how we live. If we truly 7want to enter into living our Christian faith, we should spend our lives learning how to die. All the little dying opportunities in our life allow for this growth. Something so simple as the physical act of fall-ing asleep at night and waking to a new day can be an exercise in dying. We can't make ourselves sleep, but we can give ourselves over Review for Religious to its possibility. And that attitude/action of "giving our-selves over" is what makes death a beginning. In our everyday life, there can be a lot of bringing things to a completion or to an end (a dying), and then we find ourselves giving ourselves over to a new project. Every time we face an ending or a dying, we are learning how to die by giving ourselves over to something new. As Christians, then, we truly can be said to be peo-ple who spend their lives learning how to die. In fol-lowing Jesus, we are his disciples even up to his death on a cross. Even suffering an unjust and cruel death by crucifixion, Jesus saw and freely accepted his death as a giving over of himself to God and to us--his own gift of self in love. This is the gift God makes present to us in every Eucharist--the eternal stance of Jesus giving himself over to the Father and to us, and inviting us to be with him in this gift. So as we enter into every Eucharist, we again are exercising our learning how to die--a giving of ourselves over to new life. November is also the end of the church's liturgical year. We begin anew our liturgical year with the sea-son of Advent. Just as in the secular ending of a year and then the beginning of a new year, we find ourselves challenged to acknowledge that this year we are one year closer to dying, no matter our age. It seems to be a good time to ask ourselves; as Rahner would remind us, how we accept death as a beginning and how each day we are learning how to die. David L. Fleming SJ The Review for Religious advisory board members and editorial staff pray for a blessed Advent and Christmas sea-son for all of you, our readers. 341 67.4 2008 prayer RICHARD J. HAUSER Thomas Merton's Legacy: A Personal Reflection 342 The Newsweek cover of 19 November 2007 proclaimed 1968 as "The Year That Made Us Who We Are." Prominent among the events recalled were the deaths of Martin Luther King Jr. on 4 April and Robert Kennedy on 6 June. For me the year recalled another death, Thomas Merton's, on 10 December, and Newsweek's title led me to reflect on how Merton had made me and many of my genera-tion who we are as Christians. This surprised me. I had never explicitly assessed Merton's contribution either to 20th-century spiritual-ity or to my own. Then I received and accepted an invitation from St. Mary's College, South Bend, to speak about Merton's legacy to contemporary spiritu-ality. I began delving back into spiritual devel-opments after the Second Vatican Council. Richard J. Hauser SJ writes from Creighton University; 2500 California Plaza; Omaha, Nebraska 68178. Review for Religious To be safe I narrowed my topic to Merton's influence on me, but I soon felt that Merton had influenced my entire generation, affecting major writers such as Henri Nouwen and Thomas Keating. From 1969 to 1972 I studied in the Department of Religion and Religious Education at Catholic University in Washington, D.C. There I became fascinated by Abraham Maslow's self-actualizationpsychology, espe-cially his approach to peak "religious" experience. Deciding for my dissertation to compare Maslow, an agnostic, with a Christian spiritual writer, I did not take the suggestion to use Ignatius Loyola. I had read Seven Storey Mountain in high school; as a young Jesuit I had not become further acquainted; but I would become familiar with him. I chose Merton. Looking back now, I am aware that Merton signifi-cantly altered my approach to spirituality in at least five areas: models of spirituality, personal prayer, the sacred and the secular, nonviolence, and interreligious under-standing. Models of Spirituality Merton transformed my understanding of not only spirituality but also human nature. He moved me from a behavior-centered approach to a contemplative, heart-centered approach. And for the first time I began under-standing the role of grace. In my Jesuit formation from 1955 to 1968, we strove to do God's will as indicated in the daily order. Our day included Mass, meditation, examinations of conscience, the rosary, and other prayers. It included times for work, study, play, eating, and sleeping. Our, day was spent doing things for God. Holiness, as I understood it throughout my Jesuit formation, was in fidelity in doing God's will 343 67.4 2008 Hauser * Thomas Merton's Legacy: .4 Personal Reflection by observing the daily order and keeping the rules: "Keep the rules and the rules will keep you." I frequently failed in observance. I was a perfectionist and experienced guilt. I had migraine headaches during my early years. During my studies at Catholic University, I began rethinking my model of spirituality and of human nature. Though I had never formally articulated it, my understanding of human nature throughout my forma-tion was Freudian: Human nature cannot be trusted because it is dominated by the strong self-centered instinctual impulses of the Id, and so spirituality strives to repress and control this unruly nature. Abraham Maslow's personality theory challenged this model. Maslow describes human nature in a posi-tive series of needs leading to full self-actualization. This actualization occurs as we recognize and respond to our nature's promptings. For my dissertation I sought a theological perspec-tive on human nature that would complement Maslow's psychological one. Merton's theory of the True Self pro-vided that perspective. He stresses that the True Self is the self in an existential union with God. This union is capable of transforming the self if we live in tune with it: "The secret of my identity is hidden in Him. He alone can make me who I am, or rather who I will be when at last I fully begin to be. But, unless I desire this identity and work to find it with him and in him, the work will never be done." Also: "There is only one problem on which all my existence, my peace, and my happiness depend: to discover myself in discovering God. If I find him I will find myself, and if I find my true self I will find him.''1 For the first time in my life I was exposed to a Christian approach to the self that stressed not sinful- Review for Religious ness but grace. For me, Merton was describing grace as it worked transforming the various levels of Maslow's series of needs. Merton's "self-realization in Christ" was the perfect complement to Maslow's agnostic "self-actu-alization.'~ But Merton's approach to the self was not naive. He realized that discovering our True Self is difficult because we are shadowed by a False Self. This False Self is a product of our secular, materialistic culture; it leads to an understand- ¯ ing of the self that does not include God: "Every one of us is shadowed by an illusory person: a false self. My false and pri-vate self is the one who wants to exist outside the reach of God's will and God's love--outside of reality and outside of life. And such a self can-not help but be an illusion .A.ll sin starts from the assumption that my false self, the self that exists only in my own egocentric desires, is the fundamental reality of life to which everything else in the universe is ordered" (Seeds, 34-35). Merton's approach to spirituality focuses not on behavior but on the habitual consciousness underlying actions. Spirituality seeks to recognize and respond to God's presence at the center of our self, our True Self. This includes recognizing and rejecting the patterns of our False Self that separate us from God. It is not unlike Paul's contrast between following Christ by faith-ful observance of the external law and following Christ Merton's approach to spirituality focuses not on behavior but on the habitual consciousness underlying actions. 67.4 2008 Hauser * Thonms Merton'~ Legacy: .4 Per~onM Reflection 346 by responding to the law of the Holy Spirit written upon our hearts. This insight illumined my spirituality. When I began my university teaching, I was asked to teach a graduate course called Approaches to Mysticism. Merton's contemplative spirituality became my guide. Personal Prayer Merton transformed my personal prayer, helping me experience prayer as an authentic and fulfilling expres-sion of myself before God and not only as a prescribed religious obligation. He helped me recognize the Spirit's role and become aware of actual contemplation in my life and prayer. I believe that contemplation is the key to Merton's spirituality. ' Daily personal prayer was a regular part of our Jesuit formation. We were given Jesuit-authored meditation books that presented scriptural passages for each day of the year. We were taught the Ignatian methods of meditation and contemplation presented in his Spiritual Exercises. We were instructed to reflect on those passages using memory, understanding, will, and imagination. We prayed for fifty minutes each morning beginning at 5:30. I found these prayer hours difficult and did not look forward to them. They seemed irrelevant; I often experienced distraction, boredom, and sleep. I was faith-ful to this regimen for the first nine years of my Jeslait formation. As part of my formation I taught at a Jesuit mis-sion in South Dakota. Life at the mission was difficult, both in community life and in ministry. The students showed little enthusiasm for the courses I taught or the activities I ran. Discouraged, I wondered if I had fol-lowed the right vocation. I began taking walks alone late at night down the country road. I poured out my Review for Religious discouragement to the Lord. The walks stabilized me; in the stillness I often found peace. I looked forward to these walks and would not miss them if I could help it. I determined to continue serving the Lord. But I did not consider these walks personal prayer-- they were not the Ignatian prayer I was trained in. Needing sleep, I soon was sleeping through the morning prayer hour and getting up in time for the 6:30 Mass. I felt guilty, but one day I realized I was not skipping prayer--I was doing it at night. From that moment my personal prayer changed. I felt that prayer does not have to be a strenuous concentration of mem-ory, understanding, will, and imagination. Simply being with the Lord anywhere--in chapel or outside--was prayer. Theologians might not agree with me, and this was not the Ignatian prayer I was taught--so I kept my ideas to myself. In graduate school Merton gave me a theological foundation for my prayer. He helped me realize I was holding on to a Pelagian understanding of prayer. He showed me that prayer is really more the work of the Holy Spirit than my work: "It can therefore be said that the aim of mental prayer is to awaken the Holy Spirit within us, and to bring our hearts into harmony with his voice, so that we allow the Holy Spirit to speak and pray within us, and lend him our voice and our affec-tions that we may become, as far as possible, conscious of his prayer in our hearts.''2 Merton showed me that prayer can actually be easy and that we can pray from wherever we are in our lives. It does not have to be a strenuous effort to forget our daily lives and to concentrate on Scripture using mem-ory, understanding, and will. "In prayer we discover what we already have. You start where you are and you 347 67.4 2008 Hauser ¯ Thomas Merton's Legacy: .4 Personal R~ection Merton gave me the theology and language to explain and justify what had become my regular practice of personal prayer. 348 deepen what you already have, and you realize that you are already there. We already have everything; but we don't know it and we don't experience it. Everything has been given to us in Christ. All we need is to experience what we already possess.''3 Finally, and unbelievably, I learned that my prayer sometimes fulfilled Merton's description of contem-plation- being touched by God in a way transcending words. What I had considered merely natural human expe-riences-- Maslow's peak experiences-- were actually encoun-ters with the divine: "Contemplation is a sudden gift of aware-ness, an awakening to the Real within all that is real. A vivid - ¯ - awareness of infinite Being at the roots of our own limited being. An awareness of our contingent reality as received, as a present from God, as a free gift of love. This is the existential contact of which we speak when we use the metaphor of being 'touched by God'" (Seeds, 3). I realized these experiences happened most frequendy for me--and for Merton--in nature, and they happened most frequently outside of formal prayer times. He showed me that contemplation is not merely the preserve of cloistered monks and nuns, but that we are all called to it by our baptism. In short, Merton gave me the theology and language to explain and justify what had become my regular prac-tice of personal prayer. This had several enduring effects Review for Religious on my rhythm of personal prayer. I moved toward more and more silence in prayer, allowing the Holy Spirit to pray within me. I began daily prayer with my personal concerns rather than Scripture. I arranged my place of prayer to ensure I could always view God's creation. I altered my annual eight-day retreats: I stopped going to retreat houses and went to places of great natural beauty near a mountain or an ocean--and I began looking for-ward to these retreats. The Sacred and the Secular Merton's ideas had many ramifications in my life. He helped me transcend an artificial distinction I had made between the sacred and the secular. He helped me recognize that daily life is sacred. Before the Second Vatican Council and throughout my formation, I had lived with a basic misunderstand-ing about spirituality and holiness. I believed that spiri-tuality is primarily faithful performance of devotional practices aimed directly at worshiping God, such as Mass and visits to chapel, and that holiness is measured by fidelity to these practices. I did acknowledge other things as important, such as doing God's will and charity toward others, especially toward the most needy. These things, however, seemed not as central to holiness as the explicitly religious activities. When the council came, I was deeply influenced by the document "The Church in the Modern World" (Gaudium et spes). The council clearly taught that being a good Catholic is more than simply performing reli-gious obligations faithfully. A good Catholic must also be actively involved in serving the kingdom of God by living in love in ordinary daily life, and especially by working for justice in the world and working for the poor. 349 67.4 2008 Hauser ¯Tbomas Merton's Legaiy: A Personal Reflection This call occasioned a crisis in my life. I began to feel there had been too much emphasis on religious activities and not enough on service to others. I questioned my commitment to daily Mass and meditation. For a while I dropped daily personal prayer. I had set up a dichotomy between sacred activities and secular activities. Merton helped me overcome this dichotomy. His understand-ing of the True Self was key. The True Self exists in an existential union not only with God but also with the entire human family. There is no true union with God without union with one another, and so the Holy Spirit moves our hearts not only to love God in religious activ-ities but also to love one another in our daily activities: "Christ prayed that all men might become One as He was One with his Father, in the Unity of the Holy Spirit. Therefore when you and I become what we are really meant to be, we will discover not only that we love one another perfectly but that we are both living in Christ and Christ in us, and we are all One Christ. We will see that it is he who loves in us" (Seeds, 65). Living a life of service to others is not a distrac-tion from union with God but actually a condition for reaching this union: "One of the paradoxes of the mys-tical life is this: that a man cannot enter into the deep-est center of himself, and pass through that center into God, unless he is able to pass entirely out of himself and empty himself and give himself to other people in the purity of a selfless love" (Seeds, 64). Merton emphasizes that the quality of prayer affects the quality of our action. The more deeply we are united to God in prayer, the more energy we have to serve our neighbor. "Action and contemplation now grow together into one life and one unity. They become two aspects of the same thing. Action is charity looking out- Review for Religious ward to other men, and contemplation is charity drawn inward to its own divine source. Action is the stream, and contemplation is the spring. The spring remains more important than the stream, for the only thing that really matters is for love to spring up inexhaustibly from the infinite abyss of Christ and of God.''4 Merton gave me the theology to dedicate myself to both prayer and service. Since both flow from the Holy Spirit, both are sacred. This theology impelled me to social action. Soon after I began my university teaching, I initiated a campus boycott of iceberg lettuce to sup-port the farm workers' union. I encouraged nonviolent picketing of the food service lines. The boycott took more than a year but was ultimately successful. Nonviolence Before reflecting on Merton's spirituality, I had a lim-ited understanding of nonviolence. I thought of it sim-ply as conscientiously objecting to the war in Vietnam and, influenced by Martin Luther King's civil rights movement, as not retaliating physically when attacked. Though I admired these positions, I saw those who took them as rare, highly idealistic, and a bit naive. Merton revolutionized my understanding. His description of the True Self showed me that an attitude of nonviolence is an integral part of living the gospel and following Christ. Since God dwells within every human being, this com-munion has radical consequences for how we think and how we act. When we are in tune with God at our center, in our True Self, we experience our oneness with others, even with our "enemies." Our behavior changes. Merton helped me realize that Western understand-ings of the person foster secularism, individualism, materialism, competition, and a sense of superiority. 67.4 2008 Hauser ¯ Thomas Merton's Legacy: A Personal R~leaion Merton helped me.realize that Western understandings of the person foster secularism, individualism, materialism, competition, and a sense of superiority. This False Self has the illusion that our existence is not connected with God or with others, and this illusion leads to violence: "People who know nothing of God, and whose lives are centered on themselves, imagine that they can only find themselves by asserting their own desires and ambi-tions and appetites in a struggle with the rest of the world. They try to become real by imposing themselves on other people, by appro-priating for them-selves some share of the limited supply of created goods and thus emphasizing the difference between themselves and other men who have less than they, or nothing at all" (Seeds, 47). Merton concludes simply: "I must look for my identity, somehow, not only in God but in other men. I will never be able to find myself if I isolate myself from the rest of mankind as if I were a different kind of being" (Seeds, 51). The transformation Merton calls for happens most profoundly in contemplation. In a busy Kentucky city, Merton experienced his most well-known contemplative awakening: "In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. It was like waking from a dream of Review for Religious separateness, of spurious self-isolation in a special world, the world of renunciation and supposed holiness.''s Such consciousness is the foundation for Merton's understanding of nonviolence. It can move us to deal with our neighbors always with compassion and love, not violence. We seek nonviolent ways to show our neigh-bors the divine within them as it has been shown joyfully to ourselves. This is the way Merton was leading me to radical implications of being a Christian. How inad-equate my understanding of nonviolence had been! Merton lived during the turbulent 1960s and applied nonviolent principles to social movements. He became the prophetic voice for many involved in these movements. While studying in Washington, I attended many mass demonstrations against the Vietnam War. I remember a group of marchers on Pennsylvania Avenue carrying a ban-ner slandering President Nixon. Merton helped me realize that this was not true nonviolence. Without compassion and love, it was merely a redirection of hatred. Truly non-violent social movements exclude hatred, because we are all members of one human family with God as our Father. I began applying nonviolent principles to personal con-flicts. I realized how often I sought to resolve conflicts by some sort of psychological intimidation. I saw anew the need for prayer. And I began teaching a course titled Faith and Nonviolence. We read the New Testament, Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Cesar Chavez, Daniel Berrigan, and Merton. The course applied nonviolent principles to both societal and personal conflicts. Interreligious Understanding Although I had taken several courses on world reli-gions during my theology studies, I understood these religions mainly as institutions with distinctive creeds, 67.4 2008 Hauser * Thomas Merton's Legacy: .4 Personal Reflection codes, and cults. Through his approach to contem-plation, Merton led me toward an empathetic under-standing of them. Key to this deeper understanding was Merton's insistence that the contemplative experi-ence of the divine is beyond words: "Contemplation is always beyond our own knowledge, beyond our own light, beyond systems, beyond explanations, beyond discourse, beyond dialogue, beyond our own self." "It cannot even be clearly explained. It can only be hinted at, suggested, pointed to, symbolized. The more objec-tively and scientifically one tries to analyze it, the more one empties it of its real content, for this experience is beyond the reach of verbalization and rationalization" (Seeds, 2 & 6). Since all human beings share the same human nature, and since the same God dwells within us all, we may indeed share similar experiences of God. Reading Merton's Inner Experience confirmed this idea for me. Buddhist descriptions of satori are not unlike Merton's descriptions of contemplation. Merton presents a poem. Devoid of thought, I sat quietly by the desk in my official room, With my fountain-mind undisturbed, as serene as water; A sudden crash of thunder, the mind doors burst open, And lo, there sits the old man in all his homeliness. Merton comments: "There sits Chao-pien himself, the same and yet utterly different, for it is the eternal Chao-pien, one with no familiar name, at once humble and mighty., utterly beyond description or comparison because he is beyond yes and no, subject and object, self and not-self. It is like the wonderful, devastating, and unutterable awe of humble joy with which a Christian realizes: 'I and the Lord are One.'''6 Review for Religious This was a major breakthrough in my understand-ing. After my own experiences of contemplation, I could now allow Merton's books and essays on Zen Buddhism, Taoism, Sufism, Judaism, and Hinduism to lead me to deeper understanding of these religions. Since I wanted my students to understand the centrality of prayer and contemplation for every world religion, I began adding these readings to my courses. We all mourned Merton's untimely death in Bangkok on 10 December 1968, during his three-month trip to Asia. This death was especially sad because his firsthand Asian experiences would have given him further data on similarities between Eastern and Western mysticism. My Debt to Merton I realize that many today take for granted the five areas of spirituality that I have described. But Merton's insights were presented before the council and offi-cial Catholicism accepted them. Indeed, his own abbot general censored his 1961 antiwar writings. Merton's writing became foundational for a new generation of Christians and spiritual writers. This fortieth anni-versary of his death is the first time I have stopped to acknowledge my debt. I do not consider it an exaggera-tion to say that Merton was a prophet heralding a new age of spirituality. Merton paved the way for my own understanding of the council's teaching on the Holy Spirit in Christian spirituality. Merton's insistence that the True Self is ontologically united both to God and to all humanity and that the Holy Spirit is the source of this communion transformed my previously unrecognized American indi-vidualism. I had never grasped that the indwelling of the Spirit has actual effects in daily life and daily prayer. The 67.4 2008 Hauser * Thomas Merton's Legacy: .4 Personal Reflection combination of Merton's description of the True Self and the council's message on the Holy Spirit revolution-ized my spirituality. I was so energized by these insights that I wrote three books and dozens of articles. I am indebted to Merton for "bringing me home" to Ignatian prayer. Merton's descriptions of prayer flow-ing spontaneously from daily life led me to reconsider my understanding of it. I realized that Ignatian prayer is not simply to be identified with intense concentra-tion on scripture texts as found in the meditations and contemplations of the Spiritual Exercises. Prayer more characteristic of Ignatius is found in his Contemplation for Obtaining Divine Love and flows from daily life. Observations of Ignatius at prayer, like the following recollection from one of Ignatius's first companions, assure me that I am on the right track: At night he would go up on the roof of the house, with the sky there up above him. He would sit there quietly, absolutely quietly. He would take his hat off and look up for a long time at the sky. Then he would fall on his knees, bowing profoundly to God. Then he would sit on a little bench because the weakness of his body did not allow him to take any other posi-tion. He would stay there bareheaded and without moving. And the tears would begin to flow down his cheeks like a stream, but so quietly and so gently that you heard not a sob nor a sigh nor the least possible movement of his body.7 Merton helped me internalize that hallmark of Ignatian spirituality "Finding God in all things." He also paved the way.for my understanding of Ignatius's discernment of spirits, but that is another article. I have asked myself why my journey into Ignatian spirituality took so long. I recognize now that Iowas blocked by invalid False Self assumptions. I needed Review for Religious someone to address them directly. In God's providence Thomas Merton was that person--the person who with God's grace most made me who I am today as a Catholic Christian. Notes 1 Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation (New York: New Directions, 1961), pp. 33 & 36. Hereafter, in the text, Seeds. 2 Thomas Merton, Spiritual Direction and Meditation (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1960), p. 67. 3 David Steindl-Rast OSB, "Recollections of Thomas Merton's Last Day in the West," Monastic Studies, Vol. 7, pp. 1-10. 4 Thomas Merton, No Man Is an Island (New York: Doubleday Image, 1955), p. 65. 5 Thomas Merton, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander (New York: Doubleday Image, 1989), p. 156. 6 Inner Experience, pp. 300-301, taken from L.S. Cunningham, Thomas Merton: Spiritual Master (New York: Paulist Press, 1992). 7 W.W. Meissner SJ, Ignatius of Loyola: The Psychology of a Saint (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992), p. 280. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Has Thomas Merton or another spiritual writer influenced my practices of the spiritual life? Like Hauser, how would I describe the change? 67.4 2008 RUTH BOLARTE Our Ethnicity en Route to God ~ elonging and "distinctness" are both .signifi- ~ cant dimensions of my life. Years ago I left my country of origin, Peru, and began religious life in the United States. During those first years, away from fam-ily and friends and the emotional and material support they had been for me, my desire and need to belong and be one of.the group made me conceal a part of myself, my Peruvian culture. My initial years of religious for-mation did not acknowledge my Hispanic heritage and the spiritual treasure it was. My being Hispanic was only a curious novelty, something to be asked a few questions about. Without any intentional fault of those guiding me on the spiritual journey, I neverthe-less received the unspoken message that I should abide by the new codes and values that were presented to me and somehow forget what I had learned in Peru Ruth Bolarte IHM, a member of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, is director of the Catholic Institute for Evangelization; 4404 North 5th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19140. Review for Religious about God, life, and people. Eventually, little by little, my God-friend became the God of rules and formality. Spontaneity, touching, and initiative disappeared, and a "prove yourself" attitude emerged. I believed in my heart that hard work, silence, and distance were the key to my religious life in the United States. In order to be recognized as one of the group, I adapted myself to the mainstream culture and disre-garded my images of God, of prayer, of life and death. When the opportunity presented itself, I limited my "ethnic sharing" to external aspects of culture: food, music, stories, and dance. These were safe issues and did not upset anyone. People, consciously or not, were simply not interested in listening with open hearts to the heart of my culture: my experiences of God through family, nature, joy, and suffering; my views on authority, poverty, power, or church. I was not raised with a code of beliefs and rules to obey. We.entrusted ourselves to a loving God who walked, ate, laughed, and cried with us throughout the events of our day. Church was not the only place where we could worship God. We gave glory and praise to God through our family celebrations, our processions, and our dead. In later years I would find out that my traditions of religion were what theologians and the church named "popular religigsity." Pope Paul vI explains this concept in his apostolic exhortation Evangelii nuntiandi: " One finds among the people particular expressions of the search for God and for faith, both in the regions where the church has been established for centuries and where she is in the course of becoming established. These expressions were for a long time regarded as less pure and were sometimes despised, but today they are almost everywhere being redis-covered. l 67.4 2008 Bolarte ¯ Our Etbnicity en Route to God The Holy Father explains that these religious expres-sions are susceptible to many misinterpretations. If, however, they are well oriented through the pedagogy of evangelization, they are rich in value since they reflect the thirst for God that 0nly the poor and simple can know. Popular religiosity is a major part of the spiritual life of Hispanic people. Hispanic spirituality is divine and human at the same time; it is incarnated spiritual-ity. 2 God is perceived as all-powerful, sovereign, and superior to all human beings, but also as a member of the family--someone who sits at the table and does not need a special invitation. God is not a far distant image in heaven; God is Emmanuel, always at our side, accom-panying us all day every step of the way. Since these expressions of faith were not acknowl-edged during my formation years, my cultural identity became dim. I only became aware of this only when I visited Peru after having lived in the United States for five years. I began to feel this tension between two seemingly opposite forces, my Pei'uvian culture and my adopted American one, between my yearning to "belong" and my efforts to hold on to my "distinctness." What a surprise it was to find that I did not "belong" anymore to the place where I had lived most of my life! Two cultures, American and Peruvian, had shaped me into a new person I only pardy understood. Returning to my homeland made me conscious that somehow my identity and personhood were rooted in both the American and Peruvian cultures. Once I became aware of this, I felt a need to inte-grate both cultures in my life, whether I resided in Peru or in the United States. The questions for ~e were, How do I do that? and who will understand? Many questions arose, 'and there was no one to talk to about Review for Religious them. Even though I had spiritual directors, I did not feel comfortable bringing up these "cultural" issues. For ten more years I lived with the questions and the ten-sions of being different and trying to belong to a com-munity, a parish, a church that was at the same time borne and foreign. During this time I learned to assert myself and prove to others that I was as capable and prepared as any other religious in the United States. I have come to believe that wholeness in our lives is a process of becoming,, something we undertake each day. Tension is an opportunity for growth and devel-opment. Becoming conscious of my longing to "belong" while also recogniz-ing my "uniqueness" and sense of inde-pendence marked the beginning of a long road borne. Only when I started to ask myself questions about my Latina identity, reading the works of various Hispanic theologians and reflecting critically on my experiences in the United States, was I able to be at borne with the tension of being part of two worlds. I had the opportunity for this reflection while doing the research for my thesis. After so many years living in the United States, I was finally able to name struggles and hurts, and more than anything I could identify, cel-ebrate, and rejoice in my cultural heritage. The tension I had felt became a source of wealth and fulfillment Becoming conscious of my longing to "belong" while also recognizing my "uniqueness" and sense of independence marked the beginning of a long road home. 361 67.4 2008 Bolarte ¯ Our Etbnicity en Route to God As my own "true self" was gradually revealed to me and then to others, a new person emerged, one that was freer to relate to God and others. rather than being a barrier to my social and personal development. The cultural wealth of our various ethnic groups, yours and mine, is a main component in our human and spiritual development. It is crucial that those involved in religious formation, spiritual direction, and ministry consider the cultural factors in people's spir-itual journeys. People need a sense of belong-ing and historical con-tinuity. If we deny our family origins and his-tory, we deny ourselves. 0nly when we feel affirmed in our identity can we be free, open, and welcoming to other cultural groups. On the other hand, people often develop a sense of inferiority, a poor self-image, when they feel minimized or attacked in their ethnic identity. In many cases these feelings become a defen-sive or aggressive attitude toward the dominant ethnic group or toward other minority ethnic groups. Since spirituality involves all aspects of life--psy-chological, physical, social, and political--we need to recognize that all cultural groups have distinctive ways of facing life, sickness, family, power, pain, and death. An inte, grated spirituality recognizes that all of our lives must be subjected to the transformative power of the Holy Spirit. We hear and appropriate the Good News of Jesus from our various cultural perspectives. Those perspectives influence how we understand the message Review for Religious and how we respond to it. Vgho can be sure of a univer-sal description that is the norm for all? The ministry of Jesus is to reveal the meaning of life and offer humanity an opportunity to enter freely into a loving relationship with God as adult daughters and sons. Because an important root of spirituality is found in the self, we must integrate the psychological value of self-affirmation, self-fulfillment, or self-realization with the Christian tradition of self-denial, self-emptying, or self-surrender. From the moment of birth we seek in our human development a proper balance, the right connectedness with others and the right separateness from others. The challenge for everyone is to achieve relatedness without symbiotic engulfment and indepen-dence without alienation and emptiness. As my own "true self" was gradually revealed to me and then to others, a new person emerged, one that was freer to relate to God and others. In faith I had the power to respond to the gift of my being and abandon the "false self" of pretenses; concealments, and fears. It was this "false self" that I was called to deny, the self that hid my ethnicity. Thomas Merton summarizes this dynamic when he affirms that if we find God we find ourselves and if we find our own selves we find God.3 For Merton, maturing in the spiritual life is a discov-ery journey, the discovery of oneself and of God. One of the tasks of those involved in faith formation is to search for and reveal the seed of God that is already there in her and her culture. They must lead her to recognize Christ in herself and challenge those aspects of her which need purification so the complete image of God can be revealed. All through human development, critical reflection is required. As people grow in maturity, there is a shift 363 67.4 2008 Bolarte * Our Etbnicity en Route to God from being acted on by the world to acting on the world. In my experience of tension between two worlds, it was only when I internalized and reflected on being a part of two cultures that I could incorporate the tension into who I was. Duringthis internalization, I needed to grieve my cultural losses, experience the pain of the hurts, and forgive those who purposely or not had discriminated against me. Sometimes people do not perceive that ignoring cultural differences is a form of discrimination: it deprives someone of her distinctive cultural identity, the unique person she was created to be. Our spiritual journey in Christ requires accepting that our worth, our value, our selfhood as children of God is given to us as our birthright. It means knowing deeply that we are known, loved, and invited to partnership in being with the God who from all eternity intended us and who desires our love. To answer the question "Who am I?" we need to incorporate all our past--including the past of our family, culture, religion, and national group. Only this person can be the subject of our own destiny. Knowing that I am loved by God, I need not live in anxi-ety, or seek affirmation through achievement or some other form of power, for I learn to accept imperfections and strengths, my own and others'. God's grace invites us to become the persons we were created to be. God's love does not absorb, anni-hilate, or force itself upon the beloved. Instead it longs for the beloved to become more and more "other" or differentiated. Without such "letting be" of the beloved, the dialogical intimacy essential to a loving relation-ship would be impossible. God allows unique persons to emerge and become capable of deep relationships because, God, "how could you give yourself to me unless you had fii'st given me to myself?.''4 Review for Religious By no means is my endeavor to integrate cultures within myself and my religious life a finished task. It is a process that every day makes use of the newness I encounter in the many kinds of relationship in my life. Sometimes I long for the support of my Anglo friends because they can understand my experience; other times I look for my Latino support group because they can feel forme. There are times when I feel alienated from one or both of the cultures, like a fish out of water; at other times I am tired of the tension of the two worlds and I just want to run and hide. Being a "bridge per-son"-- gente puente--is dangerous business. One takes the risk of being hurt or judged--becoming the scape-goat for one of the cultural groups. At these times I remember Who called me to be a Latina woman reli-gious evangelizing in the United States. God is the one who gifts me with the ability to interact with two ethnic groups. Yes, the gift entails pain and suffering--dying to my "false self." But in Jesus' resurrection I find the hope and joy of new life and the courage to continue living in a tension that is a source of new life for many, including me. Notes ~ Pablo VI, Evangelii nuntiandi (On Evangelization in the Modern World), §48. 2 Rosa Marfa Icaza, "Prayer, Worship, and Liturgy in a United States Hispanic Key," in Frontiers of Hispanic Theology in the United States, ed. Allan Figueroa Deck (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1995), p. 136. 3 Thomas Merton, Seeds of Contemplation (New York: Dell, 1960), p. 53. 4 Cited by Nicholas of Cusa as quoted in John Haught, God aj%r Darwin (Boulder, Colo.: Westview Press, 2000), p. 40. 67.4 2008 heart BEATRICE EICHTEN Constitutions and Heart Knowledge knowledge 366 In this article I suggest that religious--you and I, wherever we are--reflect on our vari-ous constitutions, on what we say about our life together and on how we live what we say. For most congregations the original con-stitutions antedate all the members. They were written to carry the inspiration and hopes of founders, foundresses, and early members regarding the possibility of living the gospel with charismatic idealism and practical action. They contain many elements--identity, vowed life, community, mission, prayer, membership, governance, and stewardship--all matters of relationship. After Vatican Council II ~any members were involved in adapting to the changing times. This called for re-visioning and revising the constitutions and having them Beatrice Eichten OSF here offers an adaptation of words to a Franciscan Sister's community. Her address is/577 Huff Street, #1; Winona, Minnesota 55987. eichten.consuldng@gmail.com Review for Religious approved. Now, many years later, it may be helpful to review our constitutions and ask (possibly in a second-ary document) how our community life and governance are lived today. This would be a practical effort, not an academic one. In the fast pace of life today, with many calls on our attention, have we lost touch with the heart of who we are and why we are here? Few members entered their community because they read compelling statements in their congregation's con-stitution, and it is surely the same today. Women enter a community because they are drawn to members who embody its charism, who have been claimed as God's own and who love and live for, hope and work for, God's kingdom on earth. Such women have the energy and spirit of the founders and the early members. They may not be able to quote the constitution, but they know its values and challenges. They have "heart knowledge" of their constitution, from their experience in the presence of God and their community. One could say that they know their constitution "by heart." Their lives express their constitution, the dreams and hopes and challenges it contains. We all know persons like this--we may even be one! How do people acquire that "heart knowledge"? By persistence. I am reminded of my training as apastoral psychotherapist. We were told that only after we learned the training center's theory well would we know when to adapt or depart from it. I remember the foundational text--it was like reading a foreign language! I read it diligently, paragraph by paragraph. Some sentences were a paragraph long! I would read them several times silently, and then out loud. I even underlined the sub-ject, verb, and object as I tried to figure out what they meant. Bit by bit, as I studied the text and saw it used 367 67.4 2008 Eicbten ¯ Constitutions and Heart Knowledge by skillful practitioners, I came to know and understand the theory very well. The text became a practical work-ing document for me, one that was useful and which I felt comfortable adapting as needed. Your constitution is like that. It captures the funda-mentals of your way of life--who you say you are as a congregation and how you will live your life together. As you study it and live it, you begin to live it "by heart." You make some adaptations that are, hopefully, faithful to the intent of the original document. After a while you live your life without conscious reference to your constitution--and you may have lost some of the motivation and challenge it carries. A wise Sufi teacher said of the Koran that'it is like a map. If it is used well, if you follow the rivers of life it charts out for you, it helps you make progress in living a faithful life. If you do not use it, why have it? But, he added, it is important to remember that, unlike maps, rivers change course over time. If you insist on follow-ing the river as it is mapped, you will miss the flow of life. Our constitutions are like that map, and charism, vows, and mission are rivers of our lives. Vghen maps are used wisely, they help. Ernie Larkin OCarm offers another image for our constitutions. He says we "emphasize the presence of God in all things, but may tend to forget the envelope that contains it." Our constitutions are the envelope that contains the essentials of our community way of life, essentials that are "the medium through which God comes." Our constitutions contain our "Now," which is "the only place where one can meet God." Fundamentally, then, constitutions exist to articu-late "heart knowledge," and are not the mere sets of rules and laws that a legalistic mindset too easily makes Review for Religious them. St. Clare of Assisi was aware of this. She insisted that her Rule, the guideline for the Poor Ladies' reli-gious life, express clearly her sisters' impulse in coming together. Essential to her vision was the privilege of poverty, a privilege and obli-gation which she insisted be written into their official Rule. It contained inspiration or poetry along with obliga-t_ ion or requirement. It became a living document when its followers lived by it. C.S. Lewis expresses the idea: "poetry replaces grammar, gospel replaces law, longing transforms obedience." Constitutions contain both inspiration and require-ments. Congregations sometimes register only the inspi-ration while bypassing the requirements. Sometimes they bypass the inspiration and register only the require-ments-- and chafe at them. So how do we make our constitutions truly living documents that honor both poetry and obligation? In our relationships with God and one another, do we "mind the music and the step"? Are joyful inspiration and gracefully disciplined foot-work changing us into Jesus' disciples? Fundamentally, then, constitutions exist to articulate "heart knowledge," and are not the mere sets of rules and laws that a legalistic mindset too easily makes them. Conversion Religious constitutions come from our relationship with God, from our desire to let God be the center of our life. There are different ways to do this. Franciscan 369 67.4 2008 Eicbten ¯ Constitutions and Heart Knowledge constitutions seek conversion of life. The Third Order Regular Rule of St. Francis says this: "With all., who wish to serve the Lord; the brothers and sisters of this order are to persevere in true faith and penance. They wish to live this evangelical conversion of life in a spirit of prayer, of poverty, and of humility." You and I know that conversion is not a comfortable experience, nor is it one you can program for yourself: "I think that this year I will be converted to poverty, or nonviolence, or . " Typically, conversion comes to us unbidden, in ways that surprise and perturb us. Dr. Ann Ulanov, a Jungian psychoanalyst, says: "Being truth-ful with ourselves can be messy business. [We think] the illusions we have created . . . will be more readily received than our true self." She goes on to say that we all have protective armor which can look like virtue or competence or generosity. Nonetheless, it is armor designed to hide our wounds and messiness and keep us safe and protected. The human reality is that those very wounds create chinks in our armor. Conversion occurs because God will always find the chinks and slip through them to unsettle us and invite us to make "soul decisions," decisions to recommit our hearts to a pilgrim's journey in witness to the gospel. Soul decisions open us to be changed by God's abundant love into true disciples. Sister Helen Prejean resisted the gospel's social-justice dimension until, at a presentation by Sister Maria Augusta Neal, she heard the phrase "integral to the Good News was that they would be poor no lon-ger." Helen adds, "And I got it. She cracked me open." Perhaps her very resistance was the source of that con-version moment. She moved a year later from a suburb to a housing project that was "less than five miles . . . Review for Religious but it was galaxies away." She could not have done that without a profound soul decision. How do our relationships in community open us to "soul decisions" or conversion moments? I see four movements. Relationship with God We all entered a communal life of prayer and con-templation, of working relationships, and of minis-try that fulfills and stretches us. Communal life, lived fully, offers ample opportunities for conversion. Parker Palmer says we enter religious life with the illusion that outside there is jealousy, compe-tition, resentment, power struggle, status difference, and more, but in religious life there will be only love, sharing, working together, generosity, equality, and so forth. We find, however, after living in a religious community for a while, that people are the same both inside and outside religious life. We pour effort into learning to commu-nicate, to deal with conflict, to share our faith, to do many other things, hoping thereby to have the perfect community. Guess what? Even if we do learn all these things, there is still iealousy, resentment, and failure. We learn that there is no perfect community. We have to face, says Palmer, our "illusion of salva-tion by interaction." In the face of contradictions and In our constitutions and in our living of them we are called to center our lives on God, realizing that God longs for us and desires our love. 371 67.4 2008 , Eicbten ¯ Constitutions and Heart Knowledge differences, we are called to "go deep inside [ourselves] beyond the polarities to a place of unity where every-thing holds together." We know that place as God. Etty Hillesum says of this place: "There is a really deep well inside me. And in it dwells God. Sometimes I am there too." In the midst of our real relationships, in our prayer and letting go and giving over to God, we move to the awareness that salvation is from God. We only come to know that when we come to know the mystery of God--that God is for us and is given to us. In our constitutions and in our living of them we are called to center our lives on God, realizing that God longs for us and desires our love. Coming to believe this leads us to have room for others, seeing.in them the face of Jesus, accepting, lov-ing, and receiving them because God loves them and receives them. This leads me to the second interper-sonal movement. Relationship with Others in Community Our commitment to life in community is not some-thing casual or optional. It is a lifelong commitment to our congregation, to its shared life in the Spirit, and to its members rights and responsibilities. As members we are interdependent financially, structurally, and relation-ally. Sandra Schneiders says that a constitutive element of communitarian life is "a permanent acceptance of the community itself as the primary and determining rela-tional context of one's life." It means loving, and living today at this particular time, in this particular commu-nity, with these particular women--with all our gifts, limitations, and idiosyncrasies. Our diversity is "authored and authorized by the Source of all life, in whose Mystery diversity poses no Review for Religious threat to unity." When we become aware that the very diversity that delights God troubles and disturbs us, we have stepped into a special moment for conversation and conversion. We realize that diversity need not be a threat to unity. Rather, in our diversity, we realize the need to make "a commitment to sustained and deliber-ate conversation for the purpose of achieving a common ground." Michael Blastic OFMConv points to St. Francis as a prime example of relationships with the other: Francis allows the other to be other. His sense of self is an openness to and for the other. Francis continu-ously looks to the Other, Jesus Christ, as the content of his self. By definition. Francis's self was room for the other. Francis was "a person in full possession of him-self, but [was] never by himself. In order to be an example for others, Francis needed to work at being himself---it did not come naturally., for him. Fran-cis did not nor could he accomplish this identity for himself by himself. One cannot become a self with room for others by oneself for oneself. In our constitutions we call ourselves to this kind of awareness of the other, challenging ourselves to embrace diversity within the congregation as a sign of the Spirit and, by doing so, to proclaim the possibility of harmony on earth. Accepting diversity, however, does not mean that individualism reigns, even though we remain differ-ent and retain our unique characteristics (the only way we each have to express our humanity). Accepting our diversity enables us to give a countercultural witness to a new kind relationship, a relationship based on unity, on a mutuality where there is no "other." This witness of community, says John Allen, a Catholic newspaper cor- 373 67.4 2008 Eicbten ¯ Constitutions and Heart Knowledge respondent in Rome, is the most powerful gift we have to offer our fragmented and troubled world today. Relationship for Mission We are in our religious community not simply for ourselves. Our vowed commitment "does not exist within the individual alone, but within the context of community . . . a community fully engaged in con-versation about its life." The mission statement in my community's constitution challenges us to "be a com-munity of compassion, reconciliation, and reverence for all creation, to rebuild our own society, and to reach out in solidarity to our sisters and brothers throughout the world." Becoming part of the spirit and flow of energy that is our religious community stretches us and opens us to God's great energy working in the world today. As reli-gious we have a great responsibility. We need to know and to claim that we are the face of God to those around us, and we need to open our eyes and hearts to see the face of God in creation and in every creature. How we live that responsibility is a challenge. Marie Chin RSM, in a presentation to my Franciscan community, said that we are challenged to take a crucial step in recognizing that we can no longer equate community with mere group living or, to put it more blundy, simply living under the same roof for expediency or convenience. Community has to be for a greater project than self. Somehow we have to change our root image of community as a place of security where we have all our needs met and instead begin to explore the chal-lenges of justice, the challenges of forming relation-ships that are right and just and which are potentially present in community. Review for Religious Her challenge confronts our tendency to become, as Laurie Brink OP says "settled religious, [who have] lost sight of the power and passion of our original covenant with God." It is not that we are not involved in commu-nity life or engaged in a valued ministry, but rather that we are settling for comfort and "good enough"--which in turn means liv-ing with little zest and passion for life and ministry. It means not being willing to take risks or make changes that might unset-tle. Ron Rolheiser OMI says that the problem for reli-gious today is not that we are not good people, doing good things, but that we are not great people. We have settled for giving ninety percent of ourselves and held on to the ten percent that would give witness to the pas-sion and energy of God alive in us. When we entered, I would guess, we wanted to give ourselves a hundred percent. Avis Clendenen offers an interesting reflection on how we may have adapted Jeremiah's response to God "from 'too young' to 'too old'; Ah, Lord God! I am weary from speaking the truth in love. Our best days are behind us. I am too old." And God says, "Do not say 'I am too old,' for even now to all to whom I send you you will go; be not afraid, for I am with you to deliver you." Are we holding back? Can we live more fully every moment of our life today and on into the future? The problem for religious today is not that we are not good people, doing good things, but that we are not great people. 67.4 2008 Eicbten * Constitutions and Heart Knowledge 376 Relationship with Structure and Authority Our constitutions are about holding with care the relationships that shape our life together. They assume and emphasize our relationship with God, which in turn is expressed in relationships with other members and associates and with the church and society. Treating these relationships with care can only happen when both members and leaders take seriously their responsibility as part of community. As individuals, you bring your personal power to the community, ideally making it a force for growth, bridge building, and healing, rather than a force for negativ-ity, divisiveness, and controlling behavior. Together you affirm that your congregation is there to facilitate your religious way of life and your ministry, and you accept responsibility as members to participate in defining and working towards the purpose of your community. The goal of your congregation's governance is to exemplify and facilitate the living of your congregation's charism, weaving "the organizational elements of shared values, mission, and vision and translating tl~em into reality, into a course of action." In the governance of our religious congregations, we have various indications of history and personality. Rigid authority structures have left many with scars and cautions, and efforts towards new models of communal living have not always been successful. Leadership functions amid our practice and expec-tations of ourselves as members of our communities. Patricia Wittberg SC offers three models of relation-ships of community and authority. Hierarchical/Bureaucratic Model: This model offers an organized way to carry out the purpose and mission of the congregation. The value it emphasizes is effi- Review for Religious ciency; the mode of operation is dependency. Power and authority are concentrated at the top and flow downward, as does communication. There is little individual responsibility. The young are mentored, and the model can continue without changing. Every congregation has some elements of hierarchy/bureau-cracy which are needed for effective functioning of an organization. Associational Modek This model values individual fulfill-ment; the individual "I" is at the center of the model. Relationships are one-on-one and dependent on the individual's choice of persons to whom s/he wishes to relate, both within'the organization and outside it. Persons live as if this were a professional organiza-tion where membership is equated with paying one's dues or meeting basic requirements and participating as one wishes. Leadership is often not acknowledged or is reluctant to call for difficult actions on the part of members. This model is not likely to reproduce into the next generation. Communitarian/Relational/Intentional Modek The value for this model is the common good; interdependence is the desired mode of operation. Relationships and communication are mutual and are focused around a sense of common identity--"we" with members and leaders working together for common goals. In this model, individual members are willing to sacrifice or limit some personal goals for the common good. There is a mutual shaping of the future. Wittberg says today'~ congregations have their ¯ Toe in the Hierarchical/Bureaucratic model; ¯ Torso in the Association model; ¯ Hand reaching out to the Communitarian model, but fearful of sacrifice or of retreat to the Hierarchical model. She offers this reflection: Religious congregations, precariously balanced between the competing commitment models of 67.4 2008 Eichten ¯ Constitutions and Heart Knowledge 378 ] bureaucracies and intentional communities, may. ¯ have mutually contradictory expectations of their leadership or of their members . Congregatio.ns which refrain from addressing the ambiguous roles of leadership [I would add membership] may miss discov-ering creative and psychologically healthy new ways of filling them. Most communities, I wager, create goals based on the Communitarian model while denying or not acknowledging that the other models exist and may even predominate. There is no right/wrong, good/bad to any model; each has good elements. It might be worthwhile to reflect together on the blessings and challenges of each model as you experience them in your community. The challenge may be to identify and implement the best elements in each as we move into the future. Governance is part of the process of communal transformation. It invites members to a continual com-munal effort toward conversion of heart, mind, and spirit. We bring together our individual selves with our dreams, passions, idiosyncrasies, and personal power. Through the design of our constitution, we seek together the common good for the sake of the gospel. We are one with many, experiencing a range of relation-ships that offer the possibility of transformations into people mutually empowering and accountable. All of these relationships--with God, with one another, with authority, and in mission--are what constitutes your religious congregation and mine. Relationship calls for risk, trust, hope, and moments of conversion, moments to be followed up with firm "soul decisions" to give our all to God's grand dream "that all may be one." Review for Religious Personal Reflection / Group Discussion "Fundamentally constitutions exist to articulate 'heart knowledge,' and are not the mere sets of rules and laws that a legalistic mindset too easily makes them." Have I experienced a "heart knowledge" approach to the reading and study of the constitutions of my congrega-tion? What are some necessary steps for me to take in order to read the constitutions in such a way? What happens to me when I approach the constitutions of my congregation in terms of relationship~to God, to community, and to mission? How do I understand my relationship to structure and authority? Dark Matter It should not surprise us that we encounter darkness and unknowingness within; two-thirds of the cosmos is dark energy and we are offspring of that unfolding mystery, pregnant with possibilities, gestating, incubating in our wombs. The shapeless masses and undeveloped forms lie clogged in a fathomless morass, yet the Potter takes the no-thingness, gently birthing it into a new creation. Barbara Mayer OSB 379 67.4 2008 NESTOR GREGOIRE Can New Life Arise from the Rule Book? 380 ~iin every religious congregation the religious Rule s the distillation of the community's spirit, ideals, goals, and governance. It is the result of years of reflec-tion and prayer, revisions and constitutional changes. It is meant to be the mission statement (long before the term was ever developed) of all the members of the religious congregation: novices, newly professed, and those with perpetual vows. But have the rules become too much a document of doctrinal values and governance procedures in too nar-row a sense? While they are read and studied, reflected upon and taught in many conferences, are they a source of nourishment at the grass roots? Do we consult the Rule Book about what to do, or do we use it for prayer and as inspiration for our prayer, our liturgy, and the community's day-to-day life? Is it more reference book than prayer book? Nestor Gregoire OMI lives at 504 - 3rd Avenue East; Meadow Lake, Saskatchewan; S9X 1H5 Canada. olppastor@sasktel.net Review for Religious How do the Rule Book and the constitutions serve your congregation? Is it very directive, constricting the community's life and spirit, or does it improve vision and expand the horizons of community members? Does the text go beyond expressing doctrinal correctness and touch the community's lived experience? How does the Rule actually fit in the day-to-day living of the local community? Do particular rules have noticeable par-ticular effects? Are there unintended consequences? The Rule Book must be more than a reference book that the novices study, consult, and know parts of from memory. It must become user friendly and be a living part of the community's prayer life. A good indicator of this would be how worn the pages of our personal copy of the Rule Book are. Are they library fresh, or do they have fingerprints, personal notations, and other signs of frequent use? Does the book appear to be one that is close to the heart of a community member? User Friendly Each community can work to make the Rule user friendly in its own way. There are many ways that indi-viduals and communities can find to do this and thereby nourish their own and the community's spiritual life. No one size fits all. Be creative. In the publishing world there have always been meditation books to serve our prayer and reflection, often with a page containing one thought or insight for each day of the year. The reader need not delve into a developed chapter. Often religious congregations will prepare a book of meditations for each day of Lent and Advent and send it out to their members. One of the best ways to make the Rule Book user friendly is to ask members of the community to develop 381 67.4 2008 Gregoire * Can New Life Arise from the Rule Book? 382 a series of meditations and prayers that arise from the values, the vision, and the actual words of the rules. What themes recur frequently throughout the rules? What resources are there available to assist reflecting and praying about the meaning and implications of indi-vidual rules and their contexts? With the Rule Book as our source document, it is possible-to develop a series of meditations which incor-porate the values and teachings of general chapters, writings of our congregation's past and present spiri-tual teachers, and stories of members who served well, lived the charism with joy, and even may have given the congregation its particular tone. Bring the character and flair of these members to the meditations. The stories and the experience of members who have preceded us can help us discover in the Rule mean-ings that are new to us. Each congregation's Rule Book did take on flesh, in joy and tears, in earlier members. What possibilities does the same Rule challenge us to try and perhaps fulfill today? By preparing a series of meditations on the rules and constitutions of my own congregation, the Oblates of Mary Immaculate, I discovered new connections being made between the documents of the past four general chapters, the talks of our superior general, and the text of the Rule. New depths appeared in my own under-standing of our "mission statement." The Founder's Writings There are many opportunities to take bite-size quo-tations and insights from the talks and writings of the founder to flesh out the meaning of particular state-ments in the Rule: We can parallel today's text with passages which ring with the conviction of the founding Review for Religious members. The writings of the founder and founding members can help us appreciate and integrate the offi-cial text into our daily lives. Using the actual words of our congregation's founder can develop a fuller understanding and application of this particular rule. Our understanding of the present text must not be based only on its meaning on the page. It must be broadened to the possibilities that are given to it through the insights of our foundation documents and the firstmissionary endeavors. Allow the writings of the founder and the early members to give new flesh to our understanding of our community charism, the religious values and idealism of our institute. When we try to broaden the possibilities for new insights into and understanding of the Rule, we can find togetherness and nourishment in our foun-dational days and in our church's mission in our mod-ern world. Not only must we seek the contributions of the past to our living the Rule today, but we must be receptive to the new insights and challenges that our situation brings to the Rule. The Rule must always be in dialogue, giving to and receiving from our current mission work, our reflections, and our prayer. Daily Prayer The words of the Rule can be used in composing prayers for the community's daily life. Take individual statements of our rules and constitutions and adapt them into prayers of intercession for the daily office. A little editing can bring the rules' clear and concise statements into our prayer with God. Here are two examples, from our Oblate Constitutions and Rules. The text is not just read but becomes a living part of our prayer. 67.4 2008 Gregoire ¯ Can New Life Arise from the Rule Book? Leader: Lord Jesus, may we always work in cooperation with you, our Savior, and imitate your example-- Response: --by committing ourselves principally to evan-gelizing the poor (Constitution #1). Leader: We pray that the community of the Apostles may with you, our Jesus, be the model of our life (Constitution #3). Response: May we come together in apostolic communi-ties of priests and brothers, united to God by the vows of religion, cooperating with you, our Savior (Constitution #1). We must search for other places in the Rule that can be used in composing new prayers for various community gatherings: at the beginning of meet-ings, on renewal days, at funeral prayer services, and so forth. 384 Poetry and Song Our Rules are meant to be user friendly, to be alive in us, to be at home in our emotions and in our heartfelt prayers. They must touch us in order to move us, to energize us tolive the religious values and the charism our Rule expresses. In her classroom a good teacher makes sure that her students not only pay attention and read the lesson on the board, but also write it, sing it, recite it, and put it .into bodily motion whenever possi-ble. There are so mgny ways that lessons can and should become part of her students' minds and hearts and lives. Too often our religious Rule has been limited to the printed text. Can we express it in new ways? One of the most underused possibilities for our Rule to become more user friendly is to turn it into poetry and song. Where are the gems of religious thought that are seeking to get off official printed pages and be sung Review for Religious as proof of our willing service of Christ and as ways to bring joy and love to the poor? Has the text of our Rule ever become a hymn or a refrain? Have we asked the poets in our midst to look at the Rule and allow the poetic muse to bring forth through them new pic-tures for our imaginations, fresh words that touch our hearts? And what of the photographers, the painters, and those who can sketch? Can they create visual expres-sions of the valued teachings in our Rule? Can the text evoke in them color, pattern, and depth that they can share? For the next community gathering, can one of our photographers bring together a collection of sym-bolic photos and significant texts to help us see our Rule in new and vibrant ways? Let the imagination within your community enable your Rule to be absorbed by your community through all five senses. How else? Let me draw a picture from many a childhood. Will your community's Rule Book be like an encyclopedia that was bought years ago to give the children a learning atmosphere but was hardly ever used? Or will it be like your mother's cookbook, tat-tered, pages falling out or sticking together, scribblings in the margin, flour stains, memories of mother calling us or fragrances inviting us to just-baked cinnamon rolls or to supper? Cookbook, prayer book, rule book--all redolent of love and devotion and sharing. How differ-ent are they? 67.4 2008 JOEL RIPPINGER Monasticism' s Rooted Adaptations ~f~irtainlmg oass ta f porrotyfe ysseeadr sm ionn ak cwohmom hausn liitvye odf Benedictines, I am aware of the reality that, at the beginning of the third millennium, monasteries of men and women living according to the Benedictine Rule constitute an endangered species. We run the risk of becoming an exotic form of religious expression, with our communities acquiring the character of religious theme parks and our spiritual tradition being taken over by increasing numbers of nonprofessed laypersons intensely attracted to the monastic charism. Several developments have been part of this phe-nomenon. Vocations to vowed monasticism have been in decline for some years, especially in North America and Europe, and that course seems to be continuing. With this decline there has been a marked increase of lay oblates and affiliates to monastic communities. Joel Rippinger OSB writes again from Marmion Abbey; 850 Butterfield Road; Aurora, Illinois 60504. Religious Many of those bringing with them this new interest in monastic life have adopted and are putting into prac-tice much of this ancient heritage. Indeed, one of the remarkable aspects of the recent rise in popularity of all things monastic has been the spate of books and articles by such non-Catholic and nonprofessed writers as Kathleen Norris. Norris and others have brought to monastic life both an inherent sympathy for its spiritual character and an outsider's insights into its distinctive charism. They have brought to wide circles of believers their insights into monastic common life and liturgical prayer. The contemporary phrase "family values" has a spiritual counterpart in what book publishers have pro-moted as monastic values. In fact, it seems that attaching the very word Benedictine or monastic to any book can assure many readers. The number expands when it takes in American and British television productions chroni-cling life inside monasteries for visitors from outside the cloister. The recent surprise hit from the Grande Chartreuse in the French Alps, "Into Great Silence," was an exploration of the most austere monastic order, the Carthusians. All of this has generated some striking spiritual scenarios. Increasing numbers of the laity are seeking retreats and spiritual direction at monastic houses, even as the professed monastic men and women struggle to maintain sufficient staff to care for their visitors' needs. Diocesan priests, who once were sent unwillingly to monasteries as a place to be disciplined and do pen-ance, now willingly sacrifice time and personal comfort to make personal retreats in the solitude and silence of monastic guest rooms. A cottage industry has arisen to publish material on St. Benedict's Rule as a model for corporate management, ecological balance, and family 67.4 2008 Rippinger ¯ Monasticism's Rooted Adaptations The hospitality called for in the monastic tradition trumps demands for orthodoxy or religious conversion, life. And, as we have said, programs of spirituality are likely to attract sincere searchers if they use the terms Benedictine or monastic in their publicity. At one level, all of this is cause for rejoicing. An ancient and revered tradition of spiritual formation and communal observance has been retrieved. What only a few decades ago many considered an arcane and irrelevant current of church life is now prized as a source from which to draw the gospel's living waters. Nor does it hurt that monasticism repre-sents a strain of tra-dition that antedates the Reformation and the more polemi-cal and controver-sial categories of the Catholic Church's public profile. Protestants and other non-Catholics come to pray and to dialogue in monastic settings, and they feel at home. The hospitality called for in the monastic tradition trumps demands for orthodoxy or religious con-version. Moreover, the sacred space of monastic cloisters attracts an intriguing variety of searchers. There are those seeking the soundness and insights of spiritual direction, pursuing like Tony Hendra the wisdom of the "Father Joes." There are those drawn by the aesthetic appeal of Gregorian chant and the spare beauty, not of bare ruined choirs, but of natural landscape and architecture that inte-grates silence and a life shared in community. There are those who, caught in the frenzy and rootlessness of what passes for contemporary culture, see in the deep-rooted witness of monastic communities a safe haven. Review for Religious At another level, there is cause for concern. The fact that some monastic communities are dying is a reminder that this is part of a historical cycle that has been in place for well over 1500 years. The dying also alerts us to an unsettling prospect for the near term. There will be fewer and smaller communities of pro-fessed monastic men and women in North America and in first-world countries generally, along with the emer-gence of an ever larger number of nonprofessed devo-tees of all things monastic. The irony here has already been referred to. Devout "outsiders" come to a monas-tery today for the experience of leisure and for restful rhythms of prayer, but they also expect to encounter monastics, whose own time for spiritual direction and holy leisure is now much eroded from what it was in an era of bulging novitiates. It may in fact be a blessing that the outsiders look-ing over the cloister wall are now faced with the real-ity of human struggle and imperfection that is always present in monastic enclosure, but too often in the past has been disguised by various romantic views of monas-tic life. The economy of monasteries is of a piece with its marginal status in society--always a bit parlous and never capable of assuring a comfort zone for those who are committed to it. At the same time the interface with a nonmonastic public has changed. The services pro-vided by the larger monastic communities have evolved with the passage of time. No longer anchored exclu-sively in such institutional ministry as education or pas-toral care, many of the more contemplative houses now emphasize the signature monastic marker of hospital-ity. Monasteries that were once remote in both a physi-cal and a psychological sense now have accessible Web sites and accommodating retreat centers. While some of 67.4 2008 Rippinger * Monasticism's Rooted Adaptations Monasteries of the third millennium have broader borders their contact with an outside public entails the selling of caskets and caramels, fruitcakes and jam, greeting cards and icons, another dimension consists in offering guests the freedom of a room without HBO or wireless com-puter hookup, but with the amplified sounds of nature and the silence of the cloister. The counsel of a wisdom figure and the simple rhythms of a daily round of prayer and work constitute for many guests the unique spiritual ambience of monastic hospitality. If monastic life has been de-romanticized in recent years, it has also been given a wider religious compass. Monasteries of ~e third millennium have broader bor-ders than their predecessors. An international com-munity like Taiz6 illustrates an ele-ment of young than their predecessors, people that is quite at home in the lit-urgy and life of a monastic commu-nity. Thomas Merton would no doubt be impressed at how his Trappist community at Gethsemani recently invited a number of victims of clergy sex abuse to their community to have the monks hear their stories. The spirit of ecumenism and religious renewal heralded by Vatican Council II is incorporated in the variegated communities of Bose and its satellite houses in Italy. The number of non-Catholic and non-Christian com-munities that have claimed monastic connections in recent years is not small. These include not just tra-ditional communities of the Anglican and Lutheran tradition that follow the Benedictine Rule, but variants Revie~v for Religious of the Orthodox faith that follow the different forms of Eastern monasticism. This has led to some fascinat-ing boundary crossing, such as Pentecostal seminarians in Missouri taking regular weekend retreats at a local Trappist monastery or a Monastic Institute sponsored by St. John's Abbey in Minnesota inviting representa-tives from Buddhist and Islamic traditions to speak of monastic hospitality. A measured look at the future should not induce too much anxiety. Monasticism in the third millennium can count on doing what it has always done: adapt its timeless liturgical round and its particular work of com-munity life to fit the needs of a changing world and ever more complex demands. To do that in a way that is faithful to its spiritual pedigree and open to a wider public will require drawing both old and new from its storehouse. The shape of a future monastic identity will have less to do with drawing people by the charm of its physical surroundings and more with the substance of spiritual life. However newly configured it becomes in the course of the coming generations, one can only hope that monasteries will remain places where a wide variety of people can find a place of peace, a place where the work of inner transformation can be encouraged and expedited. 391 67.4 2008 WILLIAM P. CLARK Revisiting Hope spiritual reflection An Irish-American author, by the name of Frank O'Connor, writing of his growing up in Ireland, told how he and his pals enjoyed hiking in the countryside. Sometimes they would come to a wall separating one farm from another, a wall that seemed too high to scale. They would then toss their caps over it and thus be motivated to scale it. When obstacles daunt, we need to use our hope like those caps. In one of Graham Greene's novels, a man speaks of hope in a strange way. He refers to it as a disease. If it is a disease, it is a disease which both comforts and strengthens and is an antidote for the cancer of despair. We very much need hope after all the disheartening things we have experienced in our world and in our church in recent years. We need hope William P. Clark O!VII, in active retirement from teach-ing philosophy, writes from St. Henry's Oblate Residence; 200 North 60th Street; Belleville, Illinois 62223. Revi~-w for Religious in our own public and private lives. Charles Spurgeon offers a good image of hope: "Hope is like a star--not seen in the sunshine of prosperity, and only discovered in the night of adversity." Hope seems especially important as we grow older. As adults we come to realize that choices really do not exist in the way we thought they would when we were children. We expected the regal power of adulthood to provide clarity and insight and control. In the light of humbling realizations, hope takes on increased impor-tance. According to an oft-quoted saying of Julian of Norwich, "The highest honor we can give God is to live gladly because of the knowledge of that love." We can give God that honor only through faith and hope. We know of God's love through faith. The primary object of hope--and our destiny--is to be perfectly united with God in love. Diametrically opposed to hope is the belief that existence is meaningless. If existence has no mean-ing, why would anyone want to continue living? One of our most intimate experiences is of ourselves as incomplete, as unfinished. As someone put it, "In this life there are no finished symphonies." We are drawn beyond anything we manage to achieve. Regardless of the level at which we find ourselves, we feel an attrac-tion to something still higher. In a certain sense, we leave every achievement behind in the very moment of accomplishment. When we achieve what we most want, our pleasure in it often fades. We even may be most acutely aware of our failures precisely when, after some achievement, someone praises us for it. Even in our achievements, we experience the need to go beyond where we are. We still hunger for what is "not yet." Desire outstrips satisfaction. Desire or longing is a driv- 393 67.4 2008 Clark * Revisiting Hope ing force in our lives. It can show itself as aching pain or as hope. As Christians we deal with the future by choosing to believe that life, not death, is the ultimate reality. We choose to turn continuously to our God in hope. That hope rests on the conviction that we are free and thus we have real control over our future. We can turn from where we are to what we want to be. Hope is confidence in God's power to do all things. Hope is the "nevertheless" of faith. In spite of every contradiction, we believe in the divine life within us and that God will bring it to completion if we but persevere in trust. We believe God will preserve and guide the church. Sometimes believing those things is difficult. That is why we must again and again ask the Lord to strengthen our hope. Hope might well be described as the dynamic force of faith and love. Because we are pilgrims, because we. do not see God and do not yet share God's love defini-tively, our faith and our love need to be permeated with hope. We know we cannot attain final fulfillment on earth. We know equally well how decisive our life on earth is in regard to final fulfillment. It is through hope that we press on. Hope offers a vision beyond the inevitable difficul-ties of our human condition, beyond human suffering and even death. It is hope that enables us to choose life, even in a deathlike situation. In hope we trust God can bring life out of death. Sooner or later virtually every-one has to face a deathlike situation in which they are challenged to choose life. It is a deathlike situation to be forced (in fear) to enter long-term nursing care. It looks like the end of the road, the gateway to death. From a purely human Revie~ for Religious point of view, there seems nothing to look forward to except the loss of privacy and freedom, humiliating dependence, chronic pain, and loneliness. To many it appears worse than death. How do people find the courage to carry on in such a situation except through hope? Persons with severe disabilities, persons who have undergone some crushing loss or misfortune, how can they find the courage to go on except through hope? Obviously the hope in question is not a form of escapism or wishful thinking. Rather it is the kind of hope that the Catechism calls a "theo-logical virtue." That terminology is helpful, emphasizing two charac- .teristics our hope should have. By saying it is a virtue, we are saying it is a well-intentioned, stable aspiration. By saying "theological" we are saying it is directed toward God and is a gift from God. Christian hope is not based on self-confidence. Self-confidence is fragile even in a purely human sense. A combat pilot in World War II put it this way in his book God Is My Co-Pilot: "Those who knew no strength except their own to lean on soon found that fear can sabotage even the strongest hea~'t." As Christians, the fulfillment we hope for is pure gift. It is not something we deserve because of our own talents, or efforts, or merits. Nor should hope be confused with optimism. Hope and optimism are quite different. Optimism often distorts reality, making it look better than it is. Hope is the assur-ance of God's fidelity even in the most troubled times. Hope means surrendering everything into God's hands. Christian hope is not based on self-confidence. 67.4 2008 It is not unusual for people to lose hope, to become disillusioned, even bitter, when years of hard work bear no apparent fruit, when little of a desired change is accomplished. Such temptations can surface in any life when one's efforts and prayers seem to be without result. We may be tempted to confuse unseen results with waste, utter waste. That is a mistake. Real faith and hope pro-vide the remedy for that temptation and that mistake. For whatever reason, hope seems to be a some-what neglected virtue. In the Christian tradition we find much more emphasis on faith and charity than on hope. Simply consider the output of books and articles, whether in academic theology or in popularization. Hope also seems an underdeveloped virtue. One finds people whose faith is firm who nevertheless experience considerable fear and anxiety. In his book The God 1 Don't Believe ln, Juan Arias tells of a conversation he had with the great Dominican theologian Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange. The conversation took place toward the end of Garrigou's life. He is quoted as say-ing: "How difficult is hope! I feel I shall soon reach my God. I cannot deny that my faith and my charity have been purified and that they are virtues which I possess in peace, but hope is my torment." Scripture scholars tell us it is often difficult to dis-tinguish faith and hope in the Bible. One reason sug-gested for' this is that the original Hebrew text uses the same root word for both ideas. Thus there seems to be a scriptural basis for saying that hope is not something apart from faith. Bernard H~iring calls hope "the inter-nal dynamism of faith." Faith is more than intellectual assent to a body of propositions. The fullness of faith is the gift of one's whole being to God as Truth itself. The biblical con- Review for Religious cept of faith includes trust in the Lord, who is faith-ful, who pledged to remain with us, who gave us that hope-inspiring message recorded by John: "Do not let your heart be troubled. Trust in God and trust in me. There are many mansions in my Father's house; if there were not I should have told you. I am going to prepare a place for you, and after I have gone and prepared you a place, I shall return to take you with me; so that where I am you also may be" (Jn 14:1-4). In the Bible, faith is understood as a joyous, grateful acceptance of the One who is our savior and our hope. In the Epistle to the Hebrews, there is a close con-nection between faith and hope. "Faith is the confident assurance concerning things we hope for and conviction about things we do not see" (Heb 11:1-2). Scripture scholars tell us this is not a formal definition of faith. In any case, the passage gives us a good insight into the dynamic nature of faith. It suggests how hope is implied in faith. We think of hope as a reaching beyond. Faith is depicted here as enabling us to reach beyond ourselves and our own powers in a double sense. The first part of the passage, "Faith is confident assurance concerning things we hope for," represents reaching beyond our-selves into the future. It concerns what is not yet pres-ent but is confidendy awaited. The second part, "Faith is. conviction about things we do not see," represents reaching beyond ourselves to grasp a present reality that is unknown except through faith. Together these two dimensions describe essential characteristics of Christian existence. First, Christian existence is marked by the assurance that the goods promised by God will be ours. Second, Christian existence is marked by the conviction that the past and present facts on which that assurance is based are indeed facts and not illusion. 67.4 2008 Clark * Revisiting Hope The assent of faith is a surrender to God reveal-ing himself and his kingdom to us, a surrender based ultimately on the testimony of the Spirit, not on the strength of any argument. Faith gives assurance to our hopes because God does not reveal abstract, philosophi-cal ideas, but trust-inspiring truths of salvation, or, better, God reveals himself as a lov-ing Father. To put it another way, by faith we not only believe in God but we also believe that God believes in us. Typically we focus on the first part of that statement. Most people, if asked what ° they mean by faith, would answer with a simple formula such as "It means belief in God." We fail to appreciate the implications of the second part of the statement, that God believes in us. This latter idea is the basis of our hope. Saying God believes in me means he knows I am capable, of being totally fulfilled. It means I have such a capability because God has so willed it. This is possible because God's faith in me does not depend on me, on my goodness. That faith in me comes from the fact that God first loved me. That love is the foundation of my goodness and my value. As Fulton Sheen used to say, "God does not love us because we are good. We are good because God loves us." God's love is unshakable. God loves us without the possibility of regret or reversal. The Bible constantly reminds us of God's initiative. It tells us over and over again of God's loving invitation to us, that he does not regret his work, that his friendship is everlasting. It is By faith we.not only believe in God but we also believe ¯ that God believes in us. 398 Re~iew for Religious not easy to believe in this faith God has in us. It is not easy to sustain the hope that belief implies. So we often minimize God's generous love. We hesitate to believe that God believes fully in us. Only too often do we have to face our limitations and our brokenness. In spite of that, God seems to be telling us: "I know everything about you but I still believe in you." In Isaiah we read: "The mountains may depart, and the hills be shaken, but my love for you will never leave you, and my covenant of peace with you will never be shaken, says Yahweh" (Is 54:10). God does that in spite of our infidelities, our sins. "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool" (Is 1:18). We can trust completely in God's faithfulness even though it is beyond our ability to measure. According to our narrow standards, even a mother can lose faith in her child. But God never loses faith in us: "Does a woman forget the baby at her breast, or fail to cherish the son of her womb? Yet even if these forget, I will never forget you. See, I have branded you on the palm of my hands" (Is 49:15-16). Even if we deliberately turn away from God, God continues to believe in us. He goes on believing in our capacity to return. Like the father of the prodigal son, he will go out every morning and evening to wait for us with open arms. When he sees us returning, he will run to meet us and prepare a feast for us. There is not one text in the Bible mentioning sin and judgment without some reference to the hope to which God calls us. This conviction that God believes in us, this hope, is obviously important in our spiritual life. It also has great witness value. Traditi6nally we have been encouraged to witness to our faith by the way we lead our lives. In 399 67.4 2008 Cl~rk * Revisiting Hope 400 today's world it is vital also to witness to our hope. In our shrunken world we are constantly made aware of the problems, the suffering, the evil that exists in virtu-ally every corner of the world. That led Louis Evely to say, "Hopelessness gnaws at our era." We are called to witness to the meaning of Christian hope. We need to show by our lives how our hope gives us strength and courage to face the difficulties and problems that inevitably come into our lives, to show, as Isaiah says, "Those who hope in Yahweh renew their strength, they put out wings like eagles. They run and do not grow weary, walk and never tire" (I~ 40:31). It is important to bear that witness. In Lumen gen-tium the council fathers urged Christians not to hide their hope in the recesses of their hearts, but to bying it to bear on the external structures of daily life. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin was fond of saying, "The world belongs to those who offer it the greatest hope." Christian hope is a gift, a gift of peace, but also a deci-sion. Christian hope means that in and through Christ we can courageously face sin and evil in the world and in our own lives. Hope frees us from the need to predict the future and allows us to live in the present with the deep trust that God will never leave us, but rather will fulfill the deepest desires of our heart. It is important to realize that Christian hope is not a form of escapism or wishful thinking. It is a Christian virtue, not a purely human virtue. No one naturally hopes for victory in the face of helplessness or defeat. In his Letter to the Romans, St. Paul utters a triumphant cry of hope: "Condemnation will never come to those who are in Christ Jesus, because the law of the Spirit which gives life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and death" (Rm 8:1-2). Paul's hope arises Revie~ for Religlous out of his personal experience of the inward struggle and anguish that characterize the human situation (Rm 7:14-23). He ends that description with a desperate cry: "What a wretched man am I? Who can free me from this body under the power of death?" And Paul answers: "God--thanks be to him--through Jesus Christ our Lord" (Rm 7:24-25). What distinguishes Christian hope is that it arises in the very face of human helplessness and defeat and is anchored in Jesus Christ. The Epistle to the Hebrews says: "This is the anchor our souls have, reaching inside the curtain, where Jesus has entered as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever of the order of Melchizedek" (Heb 6:20). This does not mean we are to leave the present world as it is and simply wait for God to make it new. History reveals that the Christians who did the most for the world in which they lived were precisely those who thought most of the next. We need to look not only at what we hope for but also at what we are doing when we are hoping. Hoping implies looking ahead, but it is not just envisioning something we do not yet possess. The experience of hope includes three things: desire, we want what we hope for; belief, we believe what we hope for is indeed possible; doubt, we fear what we hope for may not hap-pen. Those are the elements of human hoping. Hope, as a Christian virtue, is something different, something more. The difference lies in the third element. Christian hope does not include doubt. Christian hoping is not just believing in the possible. It is a conviction about what is sure. Christian hope is the gift of certainty that what God has promised will surely be ours. St. Paul calls it a "hope that never disappoints" (Rm 5:5); in 401 67.4 2008 Cl~rk * Revisiting Hope Christian hoping comes only as a gift of grace. 402 Hebrews it is called "a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul" (Heb 6:20). Christian hoping comes only as a gift of grace. It is rooted in faith, which is itself a gift. Our faith and our hope are not based on history. A natural reading of history surely does not provide us encouragement to hope. In fact, that reading of history suggests that noth-ing will ever change radically for the better. That reading of history provides no model of people living together in mutual respect and universal love. In fact we see just the opposite. The human appe-tite for violence is enormous. A cynic would say history shows that people love killing each other. Almost three thousand years ago Homer wrote in the Iliad: "Men grow tired of sleep, love, singing, and dancing sooner than war." One need look no further than the last cen-tury for ample evidence supporting that view. But there is another history, the history of God's definitive intervention in our world in the person of Jesus Christ. Our faith and our hope are based on that intervention, on God's word--his word in Scripture and his incarnate Word. In his second letter, St. Peter tells us: "What we are waifng for, relying on his promises, is the new heaven and the new earth, where uprightness will be at home" (2 P 3:13). Old Testament prophets have spoken of "swords beaten into ploughshares and spears into pruning hooks" (Mi 4:3); "lions sleeping alongside lambs, the poor given justice, the weak raised to strength, and no hurt or harm done on all God's holy mountain" (Is 11:6;9). Preaching to the Jews, Paul said: Review for Religious "To keep his promise God raised up for Israel one of David's descendants, Jesus, as savior" (Ac 13:23). Hope is a challenging virtue. There are times when our hopes seem to be in vain. Hoping for, if not an end, at least a lessening of suffering and evil in the world seems almost a futile effort. And, from time to time in our personal lives, we are disappointed in our hopes. Often we may feel we have only enough spiri-tual bread in our basket for one day, and we are fearful about tomorrow and all the tomorrows to come. But we do not live in those tomorrows. We have no guarantee there will even be a tomorrow for us. In any case, just as the past is history and should not preoccupy us, so the future is mystery and should not preoccupy us. There is a difference between living for the future and living in the future. The former is done in the present; the latter alienates us from our real life. Among the ancient Christian symbols in the Roman catacombs, there is one which depicts an anchor with two small fish attached to the points of the anchor. The symbolism is clear. We Christians are the small fish attached to the anchor of our hope, Jesus Christ. God offers us the fullness of hope in Jesus Christ. Christ, as the fulfillment of God's saving love, is our hope. Christ is the great visible sign of God's fidelity and love for all men and women. Christ is our hope as victor over all the negatives of life, over the disappointments and frustrations, over anguish and pain, over sin, and even over death. "In the power of the Holy Spirit, may you be rich in hope" (Rm 15:13). 403 67.4 2008 HEDWIG LEWIS Becoming All Fire: Thoughts on Religious Identity Abba Lot, one of the Desert Fathers,. on a visit to Abba Joseph, confided: "Abba, when I am able, I recite a short office, I fast a little, I pray, I medi-tate, I stay recollected. As far as I can, I try to keep my thought pure. What else should I do?" Abba Joseph rose to his feet and stretched out his hands to heaven. Suddenly his fingers became like ten lamps alight. He turned to Abba Lot, eyes sparkling, and whispered, "If you will, become all fire." 404 A young Jesuit, in one of his regular sessions with his spiritual director, asked searchingly: "What is it to be a Jesuit today?" The older Jesuit grabbed a hard-copy of the Decrees of General Congregation 35 (GC35) that lay beside his compute.r, raised it aloft, and said, emphasizing every phrase: "To be a Jesuit today is to be 'a man on fire.'" Many a mystic has written about the "spark of the divine" in every human heart. Divine Providence graces each Of us with potential to turn that spark into a blaze. Hedwig Lewis SJ, th~ author of several professional and psycho-spiritual books, reside~ at St. Xavier's College; P.B. 4168; Ahmedabad 380 009; Gujarat, India. His website is http://joygift.tripod.com. Review for Religious We can let it burn so fiercely that everything around catches fire, spreading far and wide, destroying despair and detestation, creating space for hope and harmony. Hearts Inflamed Fire has often been used to express diverse emotions we experience: purification and passion, comfort and control, devotion and devastation. "Becoming all fire" would mean controlling these conflicting tensions and living life to the full--hearts on fire with Love. And Love then spreads out, setting other hearts afire. All religious are called to be on fire with Love and to let Love shine forth through their good works, in keeping with their charisms, so as to bring glory to God and spread the joy of the kingdom. The Jesuits recently rekindled their own fire. Over a period of about two years before GC35 (held in the first months of 2008), they met in their provinces and came up with suggested topics for discussion, which were sent to Rome. These were scrutinized and presented to the delegates of GC35, who zeroed in on six themes and drafted them into decrees. These were promulgated in early June. Decree 2, titled "'A Fire that Kindles More Fires': Rediscovering Our Charism," defines Jesuit iden-tity today. It responds to questions like: What does it mean to be a Jesuit in a globalized world? What mean-ing and message do Jesuit life and identity bring to people of diverse identities? Drawing inspiration from this decree, I offer here some reflections on what it means to be % man on fire" in the Society of Jesus. I hope this article will serve as a source of enlightenment to Jesuits, to those who share the Ignatian constitutions, and to other men and women religious, and will help them to be "persons on fire." 405 67.4 200g Lewis ¯ Becoming.41l Fire: Tbougbts on Religious Identity The Enkindling Spirit Religious founders have been "men and women on fire," and members of all religious orders and congrega-tions today can tell stories of how they originated as a spark that enkindled other sparks and became a flame. A torch was handed from generation to generation. The first Jesuits "began a narrative, they lit a fire.''t GC35 beautifully summarizes this tradition in the opening paragraph of Decree 2: The Society of Jesus has carried a flame for nearly five hundred years through innumerable social and cul-tural circumstances that have challenged it intensely to keep that flame alive and burning: Things are no different today. In a world that overwhelms people with a multiplicity of sensations, ideas, and images, the Society seeks to keep the fire of its original inspi-ration alive in a way that offers warmth and light to our contemporaries. It does this by telling a story that has stood the test of time, despite the imperfec-tions of its members and even of the whole body, because of the continued goodness of God, who has never allowed the fire to die. (§1) When we read the histories of other religious communi-ties, we find them echoing these sentiments. The story of the Society of Jesus begins with St. Ignatius Loyola. The very name Ignatius suggests fire. Ignatius faced not only cannon fire but also the ecclesi-astical canons that almost had him burned at the stake. His spiritual journey as a "pilgrim" takes a defini-tive turn after his "sublime illumination" at the River Cardoner in Manresa (§5). He set myriad hearts on fire with the love of God, sharing his spiritual experiences through "conversations" and his "school of prayer," the Spiritual Exercises. He enlightened a few enthu-siastic men on the ways of God, forming a group that Review f~r Religious would share his vision of spreading Christ's kingdom. As the Eucharistic Preface of his feastday liturgy states, Ignatius provided the church "with a society of apostles on fire with [God's] love." A letter that Ignatius wrote in 1546 reflects his fiery spirit. A certain Friar Barberan in Spain had publicly expressed a wish that all Jesuits from Perpignan to Seville should be burned at the stake. Ignatius, in Rome, heard of the outburst and wrote to a friend, "Please tell Father Barberan from me that I wish him and all his friends and acquaintances, not only between Perpignan and Seville, but throughout the whole world, to be set on fire and burned up by the Holy Spirit, so that they may all attain to great per-fection and signalize them-selves gready, to the glory of his Divine Majesty." St. Francis Xavier, the pioneer apostle of the Society, ventured beyond physical and socioreligious frontiers "to set the world on fire." Through five centuries to the present, Jesuits have been inflamed with the same spirit and have followed the blazing trails of their predeces-sors and created new paths (§25;.Decree 1, §6). As "men on fire," charged by the Ignatian magis, Jesuits are urged to spread the fire of God's love even in the darkest parts of the world's civilizations (§22). They must gather people around and warm their hearts, listen attentively to their varied stories, encourage them to dance in harmony with their different melodies, and thus "give them meaning and provide focus in a frag-mented world" (§1). The Jesuit vision is to re-create a divine milieu by manifesting "a strong sense of the The very name Ignatius suggests fire. 407 67.4 2008 Lewis ¯ Becoming All Fire: Thoughts on Religious Identity sacred inseparably joined to active involvement in the world. Our deep love of God and our passion for his world should set us on fire--a fire that starts other fires! For ultimately there is no reality that is only profane for those who know how to look" (§ 10). Hopefully GC35's decrees will bring to reality the prophecy of the Jesuit visionary Pierre Teilhard de Chardin: "Someday, after we have mastered the winds, the waves, and gravity, we shall harness for God ener-gies of love. Then for the second time in the history of the world we will have discovered fire." 408 Persons on Fire The "new" fire that GC35 has lighted engulfs the "spirit" of the Jesuit identity as spelled out in the pre-ceding three general congregations. To be a Jesuit today is to be "a man on fire." The fire at the heart of a Jesuit's identity and mission is Jesus Christ (§2). The "man on fire" is an alter Cbristus, for Christ is his con-stant companion (§3). The "man on fire" lets his light shine through good works for the greater glory of God (§22). He enkindles other hearts with the Love that burns within him, for that was Christ's deepest yearn-ing: "I have come to cast fire on earth!" (see §21). From an Ignatian perspective, it is a "fire" that con-sumes and cleanses, for the Jesuit is "a sinner, yet called to be a companion of Jesus." It is a fire that cannot be contained, for the Jesuit is "a man for and with others." It is a fire that urges the Jesuit, a "servant of Christ's mission" (§7), to the edges of society (§24) in the ser-vice of faith and the propagation of justice (both human and environmental) (§7, §24; Decree 1, §6). The fire is kept ablaze by the Jesuit living out generously the Ignatian "polarities": "being and doing, contemplation Review for Religious and action, prayer and prophetic living, being com-pletely united with Christ and completely inserted into the world with him, as an apostolic body" (§9). Our near-contemporary St. Alberto Hurtado (of Chile, 1901-1952) was "a fire that enkindles other fires" (§25). He established the nonprofit organization Hogar de Cristo (the Hearth of Christ) to aid the homeless. It provides both shelter and human warmth for body and soul. Hurtado not only enkindled these unfortu-nate people, but wanted his experience with them to intensify the fire in his own being. He made this conviction abundantly clear: "Love them in order to make them live, that a more human life may develop in them, unlocking their intel-ligence, putting an end to their backwardness. May the errors anchored in their hearts prick me continuously. May I be tor-mented by the lies and illusions used to intoxicate and enrapture them; may the mate-rialistic press that pretends to enlighten them irritate me; may their prejudices stimulate me to show them the truth. And this is nothing more than the translation of the verb 'to love.' I have placed them in my heart so they may live as people in the light, and the light is none other than Christ himself, the true light that enlightens everyone who comes into the world. All the light of natural reason is really the light of Christ; all knowledge, all human science. Christ is the supreme science. ,2 Father Pedro Arrupe SJ was described in 1952 as "a man on fire" by a seventeen-year-old student in Madrid, The "man on fire" is an alter Christus, for Christ is his constant companion. 409 67.4 2008 Lewis * Becoming All Fire: Thoughts on Religious Identity Adolfo Nicol~is.3 Like Hurtado, Arrupe had sheltered the hapless victims of the atomic bomb at Hiroshima. Given his training in medicine, Arrupe ministered to those suffering from severe burns. His experience would inflame his own heart with greater compassion and love - - for the suffer- ,~ ing. Later, as the Jesuits' superior general, he would open centers for refugees (see Decree 1, §6). Arrupe's is also a good example of how "men and women on fire" foster religious vocations: they walk their talk and talk their walk in the service of the Lord. Arrupe's lecture on his experiences at Hiroshima had rekindled in young Nicol~s's heart the burning desire to become a Jesuit. Nicolas would later follow the great missionary to Japan and eventually succeed him as supe-rior general in Rome. The Jesuit "man on fire" must realize that "the Jesuit identity is relational." He shares in the life of a com-munity, each member drawing its fire from the same source: Christ. Together as "friends in the Lord," they bear witness to the Light. A glowing community life, one that is intensive and joyful, attracts people, "inviting them--above all the young--to 'come and see,' to join us in our vocation and to serve with us in Christ's mis-sion. Nothing could be more desirable and more urgent today, since the heart of Christ burns with love for this world, with all its troubles, and seek~ companions who can serve it with him" (§ 19). The Jesuit "man on fire" must realize that "the Jesuit identity is relational. Review for Religious Playing with Fire Jesuits are also, by choice, "firemen" in Christ's brigade. The "demons" of this age are on a rampage, spreading on earth the fires of the underworld through irreligion, injustice, and consumerism (see §21). As firemen in Christ's brigade, Jesuits have been called to unflagging commitment to Christ and his mission of extinguishing the fires that defile human dignity and ravage natural resources. The Jesuit fireman plays with fire and becomes vul-nerable to the "inferno" he has to confront. It often means getting burned by rampant injustice or religious fanaticism. He comes under fire when he ventures beyond the frontiers--as is evident in the long list of Jesuit martyrs for social justice in recent times. Yet he remains committed regardless of thorns, threats, and thrashings and moves ahead fearlessly under the banner of the cross (§11; Decree 1, §9). The pathway is not always bright. There are periods in the Jesuit fireman's life when the fire within him burns low, threatened by storms inside or out, or the path is hidden in thick smoke. He experiences, in short, the challenge of the cross--where "the Divinity is hidden." The light flickers or fades in the struggle, and doubts and anxieties oppress. The time may compare with what mystics have described as the "dark night of the soul." "The experience of a hidden God cannot always be avoided, but even in the depths of darkness the transforming light .of God is able to shine" (§7). The "man on fire" must not lose hope, but seek and find that "light" so as to rekindle his fire. After the example of Jesus our companion, whose "entire life was a kenosis," he must feel supported and continue on his mission (§ 14). 411 67.4 2008 Lewis * Becoming/Ill Fire: Thoughts on Religious Identity While GC3 5 was in session, every Jesuit community around the globe kept a small lamp lit in the chapel as a symbol of oneness and solidarity, uniqueness and unity. Every Jesuit, in his own God-given way, must more than anything else be "a man on fire." And then, merging his flame with the flames of other religious "men and women on fire," together with "all persons of goodwill" (§21), he must set the world ablaze. Notes ~ GC35, Decree 2, §2. The texts of all the decrees are available at www.sjweb.info. Paragraph numbers of this decree will be given in the body of the article thus: (§2). 2 Albert Hurtado, personal reflection written in November 1947, quoted in "Saint Hurtado's Christocentric Mindset" by Hedwig Lewis sJ, Ignis 2005, no. 4, Gujarat Sahitya Prakash, Anand, India. 3 Adolfo Nicolfis sJ, "Eight Encounters with Father Pedro Arrupe," Province Express, Australia, 14 November 2007. 412 A Birthing On my way to Damascus I was tripped by Grace, and fell Into the hands of Love. My brain lay scrambled And pride lay wounded I felt blinded. Deep within my labored soul Faith gave its birth cry. Paulson V. Veliyannoor CMF Review for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC A Source for Prayer Undreamt Of God speaks first in one way, and then in another, but no one notices. He speaks by dreams, and visions that come in the night, when slumber comes on mankind, and men are all asleep in bed. Then it is he whispers in the ear of man, or may frighten him with fearful sights, to turn him from evil-doing, and make an end of his pride; to save his soul from the pit and his life from the pathway to Sheol. (Jb 33:14-18; JB) If it is true that God speaks to us in dreams, what fol-lows? Or what should we do? We should speak in turn. Or we should at least desire to do so and try. Speaking to God in dreams as God does to us in dreams is not normally at our command. However, whether we dare speak to God after we have dreamt depends on us: it is definitely within our power. Such speaking to God is prayer indeed. Prayer linked with dreams may start in dreams and end in them or continue after them, or it A. Paul Dominic sJ last wrote for us in our 66.4 (2007) issue. His address is Human Development Centre; Port Mourant, Corentyne; Guyana (South America). 413 67.4 2008 Dominic ¯ A Source for Prayer Undreamt Of 414 may begin only outside them, drawing inspiration from them. Both kinds could be learned, though for now my interest is in the second,~ which is simpler: it is prayer following the dreams. The literature on prayer has been mosdy on how to pray rather than on what to pray. Is it worthwhile to con-sider the manner and matter of prayer separately? In any case, being persuaded myself that more deserves to be said about what to pray about, I would like to deal with the hardly dreamt-of topic broached above. To state it explicidy, whatever you dream at night can well serve as food for your prayer. I believe that something sensible can be said about dreams as source material for our praying. The idea proposed here is really part of what Christians generally use in their meditative or contem-plative prayer, namely, the Bible.2 They use the whole Bible, even if not every page and even though they most often use Gospel passages.3 Even in the Gospels, some paragraphs may seldom be considered prayer-worthy. It is a rare person who will pray over the genealogy of Jesus given at the beginning of Matthew. Still, the Bible in all its multiplicity and variety serves Jewish and Christian prayer. I think this is true of the bibli-cal passages about dreams, albeit they are not noticed much.4 Biblical dreams are found here and there in both Testaments. For many, they could prove to be a new wellspring of prayer. God Active in the Unconscious A

Issue 56.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1997. ; for religious C}ar~s6an Heritages and Contemporary L~v~r~g MARCH-APRIL 1997 ¯ VOLUME 56 ° NUMBER 2 Review for Relig4ous is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who 3~nd that the church's rich heritages of spffituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in tbe journal are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written front a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (1SSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis Universit3., by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard . St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: I~OI~PI~MA@SLU.H)U Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Cauonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©~997 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 aud/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 per,nission 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. ligious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David'Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH-APRIL 1997 * VoLuME56 ¯ N~3MBER2 contents 118 132 143 communion and community: a symposium Communion: Divine Life Enlarging Our Desires David L. Fleming SJ explores the implications of communion for the spirituality and mission of consecrated life. Communion in Community: Some Hopeful Understandings Theresa Galvan CND proposes some ideas about and suggestions for the enfleshing of communion in the community life of today's religious. Community and Prophetic Witness Anne Munley IHM calls the religious community to understand the world in which we live in order to challenge the status quo and imagine and announce an alternative future. 156 lenten reflections John Cassian on Asceticism Kenneth C. Russell examines Cassian's teachings on asceticism and finds a therapeutic tool to recondition, under grace, the reaction of body and mind so that all our actions will be in harmony with our intentions to love God and neighbor and ourselves. Review for Religious " 169 Contemplating the Crucified: A Woman's Reflection Laurie Cassidy makes use of one woman's experience to raise the question of how other women's experience of contemplating the Crucified can offer new ways to image God's redemptive work in Jesus. 182 The Waters of Vaucluse Dennis J. Billy CSSR relates how the pool of Vaucluse not only inspires wonder by its natural beauty, but also reminds us of the centrality of prayer and of the urgency of calming the raging passion of life's inner demons. 187 report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1996 Kenneth G. Davis OFMConv and Eduardo C. Fernfindez SJ present a panoramic of the year's events within the U.S. Hispanic Catholic community. departments 116 Prisms 207 Canonical Counsel: Apostolic Institutes 212 Book Reviews 145--- Marcb-Aln'il 1996 prisms A crucifix as a symbol of God's love speaks out a richer and deeper meaning than all the learned and devotional treatises of theologians and mys-tics. We spend the special liturgical seas6n of Lent allow-ing the crucified Jesus to touch our lives more closely and to call us to realize a similar willingness to love with all our mind, with all our heart, with all our strength, and with our whole soul. One of the great wonderments of our Christian Lenten season is the gift to see God in a wholly new way. Philip boldly proposes to Jesus: "Show us the Father and that will be enough for us." And Jesus even more boldly responds to Philip's request that "whoever has .seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:8-9). As we look upon the face of the crucified One, we see a face of God never imaged by philosophers. In reasoning to a God, we find ourselves caught in a morass of concepts about an all-powerful Being, an impassible Being, a Being far removed from the limitations of our time and space. Even theologians struggle to hold intact Jesus, the Word made flesh, from his conception to his death and resurrection, through all his experiences of loving, being tempted, learning, enjoying, feeling abandoned, suffer-ing, and dying. But, in looking at a crucifix, we rise above all the somersaults the human mind has to make. We look up and see simply the face of God waiting and loving us with a suffering and compassionate love. Jesus shows us God looking with love and distress upon so much.of our inhumane behavior to one another. He says, "Forgive, they do not know what they are doing." Review for Religious Through Jesus we see a God who has great desires expressed as "I thirst"--a God who hungers and thirsts for divine justice to per-meate our human dealings within families, in workplaces, between nations, so allowing God's glory to shine through. The crucified Jesus helps us to come forward fearlessly before God and plead "Remember me"--for the good that we have done or tried to do, for the pardon that we need, just for the gaze of God's attention. The crucifix allows us to glimpse the face of God's concern, try-ing to provide support and comfort to all of us Marys and Johns in the midst of our most empty and desolate moments. This is a God who empties Self in each of the gifts presented to us. As we celebrate this year of our millennium preparations with its dedication to Jesus, Lent's preparatory season for the paschal time provides us with the opportunity to grasp anew the wonder of our Christian understanding of God. Who is this God who has called us into a familial relationship, sharing the very divine life, making us truly brothers and sisters to one another? Who is this God who, waiting patiently in weakness for our love response, gives us further signs of love,~ each a plea for our attention? Who is this God who labors with us, sometimes the potter, at other times the alert assistant to our own creative actions? Perhaps we all need to be surprised again that gazing upon the crucifix gives rich insight into our God. Through Jesus, and even more particularly in his crucifixion, we come to know God in intimate ways--ways "hidden from the learned and the clever" and now revealed to us, "the merest children" (Lk 10:21). To us in our 1997 preparations Jesus says, "Blest are the eyes that see what you see. I tell you, many prophets and kings wished to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it" (Lk 10:24). David L. Fleming SJ March-Aptql 1996 communi j DAVID L. FLEMING Communion: Divine Life Enlarging Our Desires Communion, community, and common life are themes big enough to involve our whole human world, touching people in every land, in every culture. They are themes small enough to touch us in the local ~eligious community where we live and in the ministries which we do. I believe that, if we take the time to understand communion (com-munio) and make the effort consciously to li;¢e it, we will find that it will clarify and enlarge our identity (who we are as persons and as a group) and enrich our mission (what-ever our ministry in Christ's name). For communion is about life--living a life for God and sharing that life from God with others. In exploring the implications of communion, I pro-. pose these six steps: (1) to examine the word communion; (2) to consider the church context; (3) to zero in on the context of The Consecrated Life; (4) to look at some expe-riences of a communion theology; (5) to examine the meanings of a spirituality of communion; and (6) to ques, tion what it might mean to be agents of communion. The Word Communio Communio, a Latin word, bears the weight of a theo- David L. Fleming SJ, editor of this journal, first presented the content of this article as a part of a symposium on Community and Consecrated Life sponsored by the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth at Wernersville, Pennsylvania, in October 1996. The fol-lowing two articles complete the presentations of this symposium. Review for Religious logical emphasis, renewed in our time but ancient in its roots. When a word has an almost technical meaning, we often find it helpful to consider its etymology. Etymology gives us a kind of entrance, but still we must be careful about word derivations. Communio at first might seem to come from the Latin unio, mean-ing "union," and the Latin preposition cure, meaning "with." But etymologists--those people who study language and its develop-ments-- wouldpoint out that. we are not paying attention to the two "m's." Communio appears to derive from the Latin word munus, which means "function," "task," "office," or "duty." With the preposition cure added, we get a word meaning common task, common function, or common responsibility. Etymologically, then, communio presents us with not just togetherness (union), but rather with a stress on the activity of togetherness. Moving from linguistic roots to the history of the word, com-munio was the Latin equivalent for the Greek word koinonia. In the early church three words were descriptive of its existence: kerygma, koinonia, and diakonia. Kerygma is rendered in English as "preach-ing" or "proclamation." When we use the English equivalent, we need to remember that kerygma denotes both the act and the mes-sage- perhaps better caught in our word preaching. In a similar way, diakonia, translated as "service" or "ministry," signifies both the action itself and the kind of service rendered. As we might suspect, koinonia is meant to parallel the usage found in kerygma and diakonia. Koinonia, simply translated as "community," tended to be understood by us only in its substantive reality--an assem-bly, a congregation, a society. Communio, the Latin equivalent of koinonia, especially in its current theological usage, alerts us to focus on the dynamic action of the very forming of a group of people into a "community"as well as the formed group itself. In Latin we may make a distinction between the words communio and communitas which underlines the emphasis we are trying to grasp. Communitas is a word to apply to a certain objective or substantive reality--a group of people who are together, having something in common. Communio, for its part, emphasizes the process or the actual sharing and thus the dynamism or energy ¯ necessary for a community to become and to remain a community. I believe that we can trace back these active meanings of koinonia and communio into two images found in the New Testament. Although we have expression~ of our substantive rela-tionship to God in Christ and to one another in the metaphors of l~larch-April 1997 a building not made by human hands or "my Father's house with many mansions" or a temple built of various materials, the dynamic images of the "vine and branches" in St. John's Gospel and of the "members of the Body" in the writings of St: Paul seem truer to our active living of the Christian life. We know what it means to be growing in our relationship to Jesus and to one another; we also know its setbacks. We know the stresses of being an eye wanting to say to the hand "I do not need you," as Paul reflects in his first letter to the church at Corinth. And yet we have experience of being members of one Body. We have a sense of the here-and-now reality of our relationship to Christ and to God, and we also have the sense of being "on the way" or always "in process." That is communion. The Church Context John Paul II said to the United States bishops in 1987 that "the concept of communion lies 'at the heart of the church's self-understanding.'" The official document of the 1985 Extraordinary Synod, held on the twentieth anniversary of Vatican Council II, says, "The ecclesiology of communion is a central and fundamen-tal concept in the conciliar documents." And the 1993 Directgry for Ecumenism identifies communion as "a key concept which inspired the ecclesiology of the Second Vatican Council and to which recent teaching of the magisterium has given great impor-tance." But we could also discover other opinions about the impor-tance of communion. For example, in The New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality, under the entry "Church" by Leonard Doohan, we read: "The fact that the faithful can readily identify with People of God, while they have little understanding of~ the theological con-cept communio--even, it has been suggested, 'hidden' in Latin--has given rise to severe criticism. Communio is an important dimension of the Church and has already been used to redraft the document for the Synod on the Laity (1987) and to help in the rethinking of the roles of episcopal conferences (1989), but like the concept 'sacrament of the world' it is hardly ever to gain as widespread use as 'People of God' has and will continue to have." So what has been identified as a tfieological term--communio--has been called "central" to our understanding of church by its supporters, and it has been labeled confusing and abstract by its critics. In The Consecrated Life John Paul II challenges all consecrated Review for Religious people to become true experts of communion and t9 practice the spirituality of communion (§46). He proposes that communities of consecrated life have the particular task of spreading the spir-ituality of communion (§5 I). Both as individuals and as congre- " gations, consecrated persons are called to become "agents of communion." What is a spirituality of communion, what does it mean for us to be expert in it, and how do we go about becoming agents of communion? With such major questions, all dealing with the difficult term communio, we had better consider more closely the context of the apostolic exhortation The Consecrated Life. Communio and The Consecrated Life An important key for me in entering into The Consecrated Life is John Paul's use of the transfiguration passage from Matthew's Gospel. He presents a reading of the Gospel text, but at the same time he tells us that he wants us to use the text as an icon and so to let the visual scene draw us into its reality. The pope calls us to consider the transfiguration icon as the icon of our consecrated lives. The icon brings us Latin-rite Catholics into a world that is not very familiar to us. We are used to our statues, paintings, and stained-glass windows, but for most of us the icon remains a rather cold, stylized picture. I have heard one story about the icon which I find very helpful for giving me an appreciation of this art form. When people feel a call to become a painter of the icon, they seek out a master or mentor who will help in their training: All apprentices iare started in their training in the same way: over and over they keep painting the same subject matter until the master approves. The subject matter for every appren-tice is the gospel scene of the transfiguration. Why do they need to repeat the effort of painting this pa{ticular subject over and over again? The master is judging whether the apprentice is devel-oping "eyes of faith." "Eyes of faith" are necessary to be able to paint an icon as well as to let the icon help us see. For this r~ason, it seems to Both as individuals and as congregations, consecrated persons are called to become "agents of communion." ~Ylarch-ApHl 1997 Fleming ¯ Communion me, Pope John Paul begins our consideration of consecrated life by using the icon of the transfiguration. There is only one way to begin our consideration of consecrated life, and that is: we must begin with "eyes of faith." Icons are described as windows or doors opening out into a divine world; they allow us entrance into God's world. For the Orthodox, they are like a sacrament in that an icon is a grace, a being touched by God, a new sharing in God's life, a moment of communion. The pope d6es not suggest just any icon; he speci-fies the icon of the transfiguration. He provides a verbal content of the icon in citing Matthew 17:1-9. Our focus is on Jesus. By observ-ing the startling change in him--his face bright as the sun, and his clothes white as light--we enter into a world of God's presence shining through the surface of our ordinary everyday experience. We must pay attention to our experience. First of all, we are struck by the experience of "beauty"--the brightness almost hurts our eyes, but we do not want to stop looking. Beauty and wonder and awe--we would like the moment to never end. We are con-scious that we have touched into another world--it is a religious experi~ence. The experience of seeing and hearing and being touched are all so different from ordinary seeing and hearing and touching--and yet those words describe best what our experience is: a seeing, a hearing, and a being touched. Second, although we need a little distance from the event to say this, the experience is "of the whole." Yes, we can focus and let our glance go here or there; we can look intently, almost shut-ting everything else out; we can listen so totally that it seems we are nothing but ears. The experience seems to be so total, so much a whole--and yet in retrospect we realize that we can describe many instances, different moments, within the whole-ness of the experience. We are like the apostle companions who years later still remember so many details from this transfigura-tion experience. Finally, it is when we review and recollect these "instances" that we realize the icon is an occasion of "learning." Our focus-ing, our reflections on our seeing, on our hearing, and on our being touched provide us with insight and understanding. We see relationships, we grasp how everything fits, we feel that we have an "aha!" or a "eureka!" learning time. In such a manner, .in The Consecrated Life the pope enters us into theological reflection, but through the door which must give Review for Religious entrance to all theological development, the door of prayer. Some of our revered theologians--the ones often referred to as "Fathers of the Church"--kept repeating in the early days of the church's theological development that all theology comes from prayer and leads to prayer. John Paul II models this approach in The Consecrated Life. But now let us step away from the document and let a broader experience of our Christian living give us evidence for a communion theology. A Communion Theology Do you remember when you "made" your first Communion? How often have you heard the question or spoken it yourself: "Are you going to Communion?" Perhaps we all know some peo-ple still adjusting to Vatican II changes who find it hard to "receive" Communion from anyone but a priest. What is this Communion that we can "make" or "go to" or "receive"? From our experience we know what we mean by our various verbal ~xpressions, but it is helpful for us to reflect a lit-tle more carefully about comm~znion. Communion, as we use it in terms of "making our first .'. ," or "receiving," or "going to," means the sacrament of the Eucharist, the Body and Blood of Christ under the forms of bread and wine. We often use the fuller expression "holy Communion." We take for granted Jesus truly does give himself as the food and drink of life and that, in eating his body and drinking his blood, 'we are in communion with him in a most real and privileged way. But this food acts like no other food. In our eating the Body and drinking the Blood of Christ, the food does not become a part of us, as we understand our faith, but we are being joined into Christ's life. This is a matter, not so much of us "feeding on Christ," but rather of us (like food) being assimilated through Christ into the divine life. The Jesuit priest Pierre Teilhard de Chardin suggests (in his 1944."Introduction to Christian Life") that we understand our individual "receptions" of Communion not as single, discrete moments of union, but rather as a single lifelong process of our being assimilated into Christ. Our experience is that Communion is a special sacramental moment of union with Christ, of Christ's presence within us. Christ is the one who gives himself in this sacrament, and he waits upon our readiness and availability to receive him. So we cor-rectly speak of "receiving Communion," receiving a gift given. '123 - March-April 1997 Fleming ¯ Communion And in our designation of "holy Communion" we point to the inherent quality of the divine, of God being involved in this unit-ing. As we examine our experience of "going to Communion," we discover that it includes (i) a presence--Christ's "being with" us in a special (sacramental) way; (2) a gifting--the initiative com-ing from Christ or God; and (3) a holiness--the mysterious qual-ity which we identify with God and with divine life being imparted to us or shared with us. But, at the very time of God's activity, Communion demands our being present, our being available, our coming forward--caught up in our expression "making our first Communion." There is no Communion possible for us if we do not give ourselves over to its possibility. The Latin word commu-nit, perhaps more than our English Communion, lays stress on the activity, the dynamism, the energizing within our presence to one another, the uniting, the coming together. Communion in com-mon usage describes the sacrament of Christ's presence for us, but the word in its deeper reality speaks rather of Christ's "being .with" us and his "shaping" us in his image and "forming" us into his Body, the church. Communion effects, that is, causes, a new way of living. Let us enlarge our considerations from holy Communion to holy Eucharist--or what we commonly refer to as the Mass. The center and focus of Christian life is the celebration of the Eucharist. The Eucharist may appear to be a ritual that is repeated over and over again; only the liturgy of the word--prayers and readings--seems to have variation. But the Eucharist is the prayer-action in which we come to join ourselves with Jesus in his total gift of self to the Father's love. The Eucharist is ever new, not so much in the newly cycled readings as in the inclusion of this com-munity (of this very day) in Christ's offering. We pray to God: "Send your Spirit upon these gifts and make them holy. Let them become for us the Body and Blood of Christ." What we call here the Eucharistic action is again a moment of communio--bringing together a group of individuals whom Christ's Spirit overshad-ows as gifts along with the gift of Christ himself. We see how we say that the Eucharist is the continual formation of God's people into the Body of Christ and that the act of receiving Communion is the confirmation of that reality. The original use of the expres-sion "communion of the saints," found in St. Paul's letters, des-ignated that reality--the common sharing of believers in the body of Christ with one another and with God in Christ through the Review for Religious power of the Spirit. So, too, even today the communion of saints signifies the active care and concern of all church members for one another--the church militant (here on earth), the church suffer-ing (those in purgatory), and the church triumphant (those in heaven), in their continuing activity with the Lord. Our consideration of the Eucharist pushes us back one further step in our exploration of this word communio. How do we first find our identity as Christian? In baptism. We present ourselves (probably most of us were presented by our parents and godparents) to an identi-fying of ourselves with Jesus as our savior. Through the waters of baptism we sym-bolize our rebirth, our rising, that follows upon our symbolic dying with Christ. By baptism we enter into a new life, a com-munion with Christ, and we find our-selves members of his Body, the church. And so we now repeat what we talked about earlier: the reality of our new way of living in our active participation in the communion of saints. The 1985 Extraordinary Synod described baptism as the door and foundation of commu-nion. It went on to say that the Eucharist is the source and culmination of the whole Christian life. Receiving Communion, that is, the eucharis-tic Body of Christ, signifies and produces the building up of the ones called Christian into the Body of Christ which is the church. From our experience of the sacrament of the Eucharist, the Mass, and baptism, we might well say that communion--commu-nio-- is not so much an acting, a joining, as it is a person. Clearly, in the Eucharist it is Christ, but Christ actively engaging us with God and with others. In the Mass and in baptism, communion happens in and through thd Spirit. In our Trinitarian theology we say that the bonding of love between Father and Son is so perfect and full that Love is a person, the third person of our tri-une God. How do we image the Spirit? In the Old Testament a favorite image of God's Spirit is ruah, a mighty force or wind or breath. Even in the light of the New Testament, the Spirit still seems to us to .be that kind of dynamism or energy--but with a face. In Jesus and in the Spirit, com~nunio is not an abstract and airy Communio is a gifting from God, through Christ and in the Spirit, that allows us personally to share in the very communion which is God's lif~. ½25- -- March-April 1997 Fleming * Communion notion--just a kind of grouping or union--but a reality we are caught up in, which is personalizing and enlarging and engaging us all at the same time. Communio is a gifting from God, through Christ and in the Spirit, that allows us personally to share in the very communion which is God's life (or should we say "share in the very Communio who is God"?) and which joins us together as God's people and the Body of Christ. A Spirituality of Communion The transfiguration icon, the Gospel text, and our own Christian experience and prayer--all contribute to our under-standing of communio in the context of the document The Consecrated Life. Pope John Paul suggests that praying the myste~ of the transfiguration sheds light in a singularly helpful way upon the vocation of consecrated life. From ancient times we have been blessed with a spiritual tradition which sees in this icon of the transfiguration a link between .people following the call to the contemplative fife and Jesus in his prayer on the mountain. But the pope points out that the active dimension of consecrated life is also included, "for the transfiguration is not only the revelation of Christ's glory, but also a preparation for facing Christ's cross" (§14). It involves both a "going up the mountain" and a "coming down the mountain." What do we mean by the word spirituality? And what is involved in living a spirituality? We use the word spirituality fre-quently today, and I would like to touch upon its two aspects. Spirituality can be described as a Way of understanding and living out our relationship to God, to ourselves, to others, and to our world. For us Christians I would add: "in the light of our fol-lowing Jesus Christ, as revealed to us in the Scriptures and the tra-ditions of the church." That would be our Christian spirituality. Note that it is a way of understanding and living out a relation-ship. Another aspect of spirituality--a further refinement--is to define spirituality as a theological discipline in terms of its being a study of our way of understanding and living out a relationship to God, to ourselves, to others, and to our world. How might we describe a spirituality of communion' in the light of the transfiguration? The scene involves us With Jesus in prayer, transfigured before his disciples (Peter, James, and John) so that his face shone like the sun and his garments became white Review for Religious as light. Then there appeared to them Moses and Elijah talking with him. Ih the midst of Peter's response to all this happening, there came a bright and overshadowing cloud, with a voice declar-ing, "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased. Listen to him." The Trinitarian life of Father, Son, and Spirit is made mani-fest inthe voice (the Father) and the cloud (the Spirit), all part of the glory shining forth from Jesus' humanity. Peter's response, "It is good for us to be here," contained an expression of gratitude for a gift, still barely realized. In the Father's call to listen to Jesus, to place all their trust in him, to make him the center of their lives, the disciples stood on the threshold of a door leading to a wholly new relationship with God. Through Jesus they were being invited to the intimacy of the interior life of our triune God, a life of communio. For men and women religious who still follow the call of the Father (as the icon emphasizes, the Father's call always precedes the call of Christ in our lives) and accord-ingly follow the call of Jesus, listening is still essential. A spirituality of communion begins, with listening. We listen to the word of God--first in the Scriptures and then, by this light, in all the ways God speaks to us tl]rough the entire universe around us. A spirituality of communion follows the lead of Christ, both in being with him in prayer on the mountain and in following him down the mountain and onto the road to Jerusalem. Prayer and all the other elements that make up our life called conse-crated provide the continuing moments of communio for us, just as they did for Jesus. Jesus in~augurated this new family union--all those ready to "do the will of God." This communio changes human relationships and creates a new type of union, so interac-tively close that it gets described by Jesus in family terms and by the pope in terms of a solidarity. After the gifting of the Spirit at Pentecost, the first followers of Christ, as recorded in the early chapters of the Acts of the Apostles, share in his life completely. This model of communio has inspired many founders and foundresses in their visioning of how a particular group would come together. Moved by the Spirit, Charism is our own particular ingredient effecting and affecting our communion, our personal lives and our lives together. March-April 1997 Fleming ¯ Communion we in consecrated life today find our way of sharing in common a necessary part of our spirituality of communion. Charism is our own particular ingredient effecting and affecting our communion, our personal lives and our lives together. We will be exploring this reality in the other articles of this symposium. Here it is enough to note that charism gives a unique quality or character to communion. Each of the traditional evangelical counsels--chastity, poverty, and obedience--is nuanced by our consciously living a spiritual-ity of communion. Chastity--for us, an undivided heart--is :a reflection of Jesus' choice, but even deeper down, for his life and for ours, chastity is a reflection of the infinite love which links the three Divine Persons--an undivided love. We strive to reflect such a fullness of divine love with what we call "our undivided heart." Poverty, whereby we proclaim that God is our only real treasure, reflects the "emptying" of the incarnate Son, even to death by crucifixion, to become one with us so that we can become rich with his resurrected fullness. But poverty for Jesus and so for us, too, reflects the total gift of self---holding nothing back-- which the three Divine Persons make to one another. Obedience shows the liberating beauty of a dependence modeled on Jesus, whose "meat and drink" is to do the "will of Him who sent me;" but even deeper down, for Jesus and for us, a life-dependence reflecting the loving harmony between the three Divine Persons. As an instance of this harmony, St. Ignatius Loyola in his Spiritual Exercises suggests that as we enter the m~stery of the annunciation we picture the Trinity in conference--seeing the human world as they see it, hearing its cries of joy and sorrow, hope and despair, and then noting their decision setting in motion the salvation project made visible in the obedient incarnation of the Second Person. As we grow in our love of Jesus by imitating him in our choice of the evangelical counsels, we find ourselves growing in our communion with the triune God. The Eucharist remains the central daily act for those living a spirituality of communion. It is in the celebration of the Eucharist that we understand most clearly that communion leads to mis-sion and itself becomes mission. In the transfiguration passage in Luke's Gospel, Jesus is understood to be conversing with Moses and Elijah (symbols summing up the Old Testament, both the Law and the Prophets) about the biblical passage he was to fulfill in Jerusalem. The transfiguration icon, as the pope has reminded Re~iew for Religious us, contains both the "going up the mountain" (prayer) and "com-ing down the mountain" (mission). The "Ire, missa est" (not, "go, the Mass is ended" but "go, there is a sending forth") was in the context of fragments of the consecrated host being brought around to all the churches in Rome--a sending forth to solidify again the communion among all the Christian communities. In such a context, the very Communion of the community is its mission, and in its mission is found communion. Agents of Communion For all those living the consecrated-life vocation, there is the need to explicitly foster a spirituality basic to this way of life--a spirituality of communion. Not only does such a growth begin to be exercised as one gives oneself over to a religious congrega-tion, but the congregation itself needs always to promote its own communion among all its members over cultures and geograph-ical regions and age spans. And the congregation members find themselves involved in ever widening arcs in working with others in ministry, always seeking and providing a support and union in life and in service. By their being continually configured to Christ, consecrated persons join their own prayer and action with a spe-cial intensity to Jesus' own prayer "that all may be one." What impresses me in Peter's response within the transfigu-ration icon, "It is good for us to be here," is the call for all con-secrated people to be "agents of communion." Perhaps in our own day it gives a new intensity to the famous Pauline identity of our common Christian mission as "ambassadors Of reconcilia-tion." How necessary it is to work at and enhance our spiritual-ity of communion! We are to be agents of communion, ambassadors of reconciliation, in a church often divided in strident ways between liberals and conservatives, divided by mistrust between the laity and the hierarchy, and even divided over living our life together, over our prayer and our ministry, as members of one and the same religious congregation. We are to be agents of communion in countries and societies that are torn by racial divi-sion, agents of communion in a Christian church scandalously fractured into so many denominations professing Christ that our missionary effort is weakened, agents of communion in cultures where the many belief and value systems serve only to divide peo-ple. There is only one way to become better agents of commu-l~ larclJ-April 1997 Fleming ¯ Communion nion, and that is to imbibe a spirituality of communion and put it into action. The icon brings home a togetherness in prayer and in action. "It is good for us . " "Good for us" is the attitude and mind-set of people trying to live out a spirituality of communion. Dialogue becomes a way of life for an agent of communion. And so we find ourselves by our very choice of consecrated life with a chosen responsibility to integrate a spirituality of seeking communion with the charismatic spirituality of our own conse-crated lifeform. For all of us, whatever our charism, both con-templative and actively apostolic, are being called to be agents of communion. I want to close these reflections with one striking example of being an agent of communion in dialogue. The story is that of the seven Cistercians martyred in Algeria in 1996. In this journal's November-December 1996 issue, Father Basil Pennington has published an account of these men. I present just one element of the story here. Seven Trappist monks from Our Lady of Atlas monastery in Tibhirine, Algeria, were executed by the GIA (a kind of Islamic freedom fighters group) on 21 May 1996. The prior, Dom Christian, had written a final testament and sent it to his abbot general~some months earlier, with the instruction that it be opened upon his death. The testament includes these words: This is what I shall be able to do, if God wills: immerse my gaze in that of the Father to contemplate with him his chil-dren of Islam as he sees them, all shining with the glory of Christ, fruit of his Passion, filled with the gift of the Spirit, whose secret joy will always be to establish communion and to refashion the likeness in playing with the differences. For this life lost, totally mine and totally theirs, I thank God, who seems to have wished it entirely for the sake of that joy in and in'spite of everything. In this thank-you where, once and for all, all is said about my life, I certainly include you, friends of yesterday and today, and you, 0 my friends of this place, at the side of my mother and my father, my sisters and my brothers and their families--the hundredfold as he had promised! And you, too, my last-minute friend, who would not have known what you were doing; yes, for you too I say this thank-you and this a-dieu--to commend you to the God in whose face I see yours. And may he grant to us to find each other, happy thieves, in Paradise, if it please God, the Father of us both. Amen! Review for Religious In describing the role of agents of communion, the pope's apostolic exhortation had proclaimed, only two months before this 1994 testament was opened, that consecrated persons have "the particular task of spreading the spirituality of communion first of all in their internal life and then in the ecclesial commu-nity, and even beyond its boundaries, by opening or continuing dialogue in charity, especially where today's world is torn apart by ethnic hatred or senseless violence." Consecrated persons are described as"signs that dialogue is always possible and that com-munion can bring differences into harmony." The Trappists laid down their lives in such hope. The pope began his apostolic exhortation with an icon. We have a modern-day icon here in our Trappist martyrs of Algeria. They are incarnate signs--witnesses, in their identity and in their mission--of what communion (communio) is all about. May these two icons Transfiguration and Trappists--lead us to enlarge our desires for our identity and for our mission through a spirituality of communion. Easter Service A tiny spark fumbled to an ordered flame; one candle lit, then once and twice proclaimed by solemn voice. The fire links out ~spread candle to candle widening in hearthy ripple. Expectant eyes glinting and cheeks Rembrandted the community crackles and breathes anew. The voice intones once more: Hope. Hope. Hope. Stephen Eric Smyth FMS March-April 1997 '131 . THERESA GALVAN Communion in Community: Some Hopeful Understandings My task in this symposium on religious life is to reflect on ome attitudes and mentalities, some understandings and agreements, and some practical efforts that must all be oper-ative if communion is to take flesh in a religious community of women or men. My reflections flow from my personal experi-ence, of course, but they include some of the urgency and hope I have felt during my service of province leadership within my own congregation and in my interaction with leadership of other reli-gious institutes of women and men these past eight years. Since the Second Vatican Council, much outstanding theol-ogy, sociology, psychology, philosophy, and spirituality has been made available to women and men religious. Many writers have influenced the movement of religious life in the church and in society. For their gift of clear articulation, I am very grateful; some of my words will echo their wisdom and research. I am grateful also to all the religious I consulted before writing this paper, members of my own and other religious institutes. Their faith-filled experience and insights will also be echoi.ng in my words. Beyond that, my task is quite simple: to draw from my more recent experiences some ideas about and suggestions for the enfleshing of communion in the community life of today's religious. Theresa Galvan CND has served as provincial superior of the U.S.A. province of the Congregation of Notre Dame. Her address is Congregation of Notre Dame; 391 East Marsile Street; Bourbonnais, Illinois 60914. Review for Religious Before talking about attitudes, mentalities, and practical understandings that are necessary if this is to occur, I want to reflect briefly on Jesus' intimacy with his disciples in the upper room just before his death. It could not have been an easy moment. The time of parting had come, a time redolent of both love and betrayal. But Jesus wanted them to remember why they were there, with each other and with him; why they had been called; and to what they must remain faithful. If anything was to give them courage and even joy in the days ahead, it could only be their memory of this time, calling them to the only thing, the only One, that gave meaning to their lives. Their fears, their arro-gance, their doubts were, at least for this moment, being sup-planted by the intimacy of their oneness with him. T.his fire within them would indeed ensure their ultimate fidelity to him. I have said these things to you while still with you; but the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name will teach you everything and remind you of all I have said to you . Make your home in me as I make mine in you. As a branch cannot bear fruit by itself, but must remain part of the vine, neither can you unless you remain in me . This is my commandment: love one another, as I have loved you. (Jn 14:25-26, 15:3-4, 15:12,JB) The communion of Jesus with his beloved Abba and with the Spirit of Truth, the communion of Jesus with his beloved disciples, is felt and expressed, and is sent forth beyond that uppe~" room. That communion, so fragile and yet so intense, is celebrated, is remembered; it will be tested by the fires of Calvary and all the Calvarys that the disciples and future followers of Jesus will embrace because of their oneness with him, with his mind and heart. If we seek to incarnate--in our community experience as women and men religious--our communion with God in Jesus "Christ, then our starting point must surely be this: the Christ who calls; Christ, whom we follow; Christ, with whom we have cast our lot in the company 6f others similarity called; Christ, whose intense, familiar oneness .with his Father rendered him empty of his divinity through his obedience, his hunger to do his beloved Father's desires "even ufito death"; Christ, who lived and prayed from the depths of his relationship with his Father, who went off alone at times to savor that relationship and to find light and strength for his mission; Christ, who, living always in this Presence, taught the disciples and us, by what he said and how he ~l~arch-April 1997 Galvan ¯ Communion in Community We would do well to look back to our initial commitment and remember its enthusiasm and even extravagance beyond all human reason. lived, to forgive beyond measure, to love unto death, to believe beyond failures, to serve with graciousness, to favor the poor, and to surrender all we have because of love. Before we can sort through our personal attitudes and men-talities and our corporate understandings and agreements (which could once again solidify religious communities, identifying them as models of vibrant communion), it seems to me that we would do well to look back to our initial com-mitment and remember its enthusi-asm and even extravagance beyond all human reason. We need to see, trusting the certitude of our encounters with God since that ini-tial commitment, how Christ has continued to call us. We need to see that in our many responses we have indeed experienced conversions, deepenings of commitment, expan-sions of heart; that we are carried, with no doubt quieter extravagance, to new and deeper levels of self-giving. This is the fire that must remain alive in us if com-munion is to be ignited around us. Webster defines communion as "a sharing; possession in com-mon; an intimate spiritual relationship; a group of people of the same religious faith." Such communion will necessarily spill over in some obvious and tangible ways. It was the experience of the early Christians as they came together for the Eucharist and com-mon prayers and for the purpose of caring for the poor among them. The incarnation of communion in community is indeed both witness and mission. This enfleshing of communion is also a personal need if one's personal communion with Christ and his mission is to remain alive, vibrant, and missionary. The recent apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata (§46) reminds us that "con-secrated persons are called to be true experts of communion and to practice .a 'spirituality of communion' as witnesses and.archi-tects of the plan of unity which is the crowning point of human history in God's design." It is obvious, I think, that communion and community are critically central to our call, commitment, and mission as conse-crated religious in today's world and church. Yet the meaning and Revieu, for Religious the living of community have become major areas of difference for today's religious. Community life has certainly gone through major deconstruction in the past thirty years. Some of it has been necessary, but some of it may be detrimental to our vowed iden-tity, our corporate focus and mission, and our prophetic witness. I want to mention some of the recurring difficulties in com-munity life for today's religious. (Many of them have already been highlighted in the research study by Nygren and Ukeritis on the Future of Religious Orders in the United States.I): ¯ Individualism and the absence of a clear corporate plan of action for mission in some congregations have increased the sense of isolation, of separation, and even of meaning-lessness that contrasts sharply with the members' original expectations. ¯ Some religious have taken on lifestyles of materialism, consumerism, and geographic settledness and have embraced a comfortableness which deadens the missionary spirit, that is, the unencumbered freedom to, go beyond oneself in communion with the poor Christ and'with other people. ¯ Our very ministries have become, for some, overinvolve-ment with the work force to the exclusion of sharing in community responsibilities, being accountable to others in the community, and offering the supportive presence that builds +ommunion. Consequently, personal contemplative communion with God is seriously affected; and community prayer and faith sharing, meals and celebrations together, and other rich human interactions of persons who have responded to a common call are denied the group. ¯ The breakdown of some of a congregation's legitimate leadership structures regarding mission and consecrated commitment has.led to situations of fending for oneself, ~ doing one's own thing, and losing the larger congregational vision, perhaps losing even religious obedience's interior sense of self-giving. ¯ Self-care and personal growth, necessary as these are, have led some to turn in on themselves or to set out on a futile search for the "perfect" community in which there is no room for the sick of mind, body, or spirit. ¯ The Eucharist, for some, has become aSunday-only or occasional event at best, not from legitimate inability to be present, but as a reaction to current church teaching and practice. This way of acting has seriously affected the very heart of Christian communion and religious community life. March-Ap~q11997 Galvan ¯ Communion in Community ¯ Some have simply given up and wait out their~years, claim-ing their own personal fidelity as the extent of their efforts, thus depriving the larger community of their piece of truth, their experience, their graced spiritual wisdom. I believe that there is a hunger in us for communion--with God, with one another, with the church, with our brothers and sis-ters in the wider world. What is keeping us, at least some of us, from entering and living more fully this communion? We must begin to look honestly at some necessary shifts of attitudes, and not only of internal mind-sets, but also their expres-sion in our external manner of being and acting. These shifts must occur if religious community life is to reflect the commu-nion of hearts and minds that single-hearted love of God makes possible, communion that witnesses to the mind of Christ, sup-ports commitment, gives witness to the possibility of selfless love in a hurting world, and urges religious to a greater fidelity to mission. We must not forget that attitudes--those inner dispositions which express themselves outwardly--will not change by external force or coercion. Inner movements toward something more spring generally from the knowledge of being loved and the desire to reciprocate love. Vita consecrata urges us not to lose sight of the fact that the purpose of our lives and commitment is a passionate love for God that finds its expression in communion and a mis-sionary spirit. It is in this inner fire that worthy attitudes are formed and refined. It would seem that some of that fire smolders and is in need of stoking. It seems to me, then, that we need to move: FROM a deadening satisfaction in living community life in the most minimal fashion, leaving each member undisturbed by community expectations and thus neutralizing any engaged commitment, TO living again with the fire of one's initial religious com-mitment (but as it has penetrated deeper in the ensuing years) and daring to dialogue with one another around what is most central to our consecrated, identity and mission. FROM an individualism in community which emotionally and actually isolates us from one another and renders us the sole directors of our individual lives and actions TO an interdependence whereby we are willing to assume influential responsibility for the common good and to let the course of our life be influenced by those with whom we have cast our lot. Review for Religqous FROM a privatized personal prayer that attempts to control the voice, of God, whether speaking to us directly or through events and persons, TO a contemplative prayer which, though taking place in the solitude of ourself with God, includes a desire to hear from the greater communion and by it to be moved beyond ourself. ¯ FROM a paralyzing fixation with former styles of commu-nity life (whether hankering for their seeming assurances and predictabilities or decrying some very real distortions and abuses) TO a healthy retaining of what was good and a letting go of the rest. FROM a lifestyle which reflects a consumerism and mate-rialism based on first-world influences TO an authentically simple lifestyle which mirrors both our single-hearted attachment to Christ and a desire to share both personal and community goods with the larger world. FROM an excessive professional busyness that is destructive of both our personal relationship with God and our com-munity life ¯ TO an active and growing effort to build community by living together in faith our vowed identity, our prayer, and our mission. FROM a "closed" self-righteousness that categorizes indi-viduals, groups, and institutions as unenlightened or out-dated, too liberal or too conservative, and so forth, TO a humble receptivity in dialogue, reconciliation, and bridge building. FROM a posture of strength or power (personal or insti-tutional) stemming from education, academic eminence, or religious profession TO being faith sharers, discerners, and mutually both teach-ers and learners--in solidarity rather than by privileged separateness. FROM an entrenchment in or a preference for "comforts" that are coincident with present-day chaos regarding con-secrated identity TO an acknowledgment that we resist some of the lights we have and then to a greater receptiveness regarding con-version, change, and communion.2 FROM unreflective rejection of some legitimate mediations solely because of the source (church officials, religious lead-ership, private suggestions, and so forth) '-13-7- ~lCarch-April 1997 Galvan * Communion in Community TO an informed and loving critique or reception of the mediation after we have listened and discerned carefully, willing to be moved towards God's desires for us, whatever the channel of communication. FROM a movement away from the cross and its part in the paschal journey TO an embracing of its mystery along with Christ, in the light of who we are and are called to be. FROM a temptation to discouragement in the face of the realities of membership and mission TO a deep trust in God, who has called us to this conse-crated way of life. Attitudinal shifts ordinarily do not happen abruptly. Although God's grace, as we know, sometimes moves us quicHy out of our narrow fears and selfishness, ordinarily shifts in attitudes and mentalities happen slowly, even imperceptibly. My sense is that most often we find ourselves struggling with the subtle and not-so- subtle forces at war within us as we genuinely try to remain poised, with an interior honesty and transparency, to discern God's great and holy desires for us. My experiences these past few years as provincial leave me hopeful. Although I have observed and experienced many of the negative trends cited in the study by Nygren and Ukeritis on the Future of Religious Orders in the United States, I believe that a certain reversal is occurring in some of the trends cited in that study. For example, I am hearing that a growing number of reli-gi. ous are dissatisfied with the individualism that has taken hold of too many in our communities. At more and more congregational meetings, I am hearing of deliberate movement toward a corpo-rate focus and a common vision for mission. Members are being called to participate in rec.laiming their common vision. Such chfinge will demand a letting go of one's independence. It will mean a return to communion with the larger community as the group walks in fidelity to its call and mission in the church and society. It will mean that one is ready to be sent," in the name of the community, in the vision of the community, and in the mission of the church. A call for personal responsibility is implied. The demands and risks of accountability are obvious, but for many they are welcome. Above all, an expressed desire to know and companion Christ poor, chaste, and obedient in his embrace of the mission given him by his beloved Abba continues to be a hunger Review for Religious and the great drawing force for communion in religious life; Ongoing dialogue as believers with a common commitment in the face of the mystery of this call, a dialogue of trust in our own and others' integrity, a dialogue of respect for the movements of the Spirit at work in ourselves and others, a dialogue in an atmo-sphere where one can speak one's personal truth in freedom, acceptance, and love, is of course imperative if what seem to be shifting attitudes and trends are to take root. Yet dialogue, nec-essary as it is, cannot of itself effect the desired end. Each mem-ber of the community must become engaged in what Vita consecrata refers to as a "spirituality of commu-nion" in a world looking for meaning. VChat, then, might be some basic understand-ings and some concrete things a community must agree on if communion--that union of minds and hearts around Christ and his mission--is to be enfleshed, incarnated, made visible among, in, and through them? First, I think that the community must desire to be a place where the members can continue to respond to their call to be with and follow Christ, the poor, chaste, and obedient One. From this desire in each member of the community, the basic under-standings and concrete ways of living that desire will take shape. This implies an atmosphere, the availability of unmistakable spaces where that intimate, personal solitude with God can be experi-enced and deepened. It implies an atmosphere where one's vowed life can find concrete expression and ~where the mission and charism of the larger religious congregation is a lived reality. This atmosphere, this space, this place, is where communion is inte-grated in prayer, identity, and mission. Second, the community must agree to be a place where per-sonal conversion continues. This means that all the members see themselves as still needing conversion. It demands a certain degree of healthy self-acceptance. It also means that members allow for the ongoing conversion of the other members. It anticipates moments of and times for reconciliation as one moves from shadow and darkness to light. It embraces the sinner among us, both in ourselves and in others. It welcomes the dialogue of faith where members can simply share some aspects of their unique journey with God and with their brothers and sisters. It is a place The community must agree to be a place where personal conversion continues. ~lard.,-April 1997 Galvan ¯ Communion in Community where we can be transformed by God, even radically, and find ourselves in an atmosphere of a rejoicing community. Third, the group must see itself as a community where dis-cerning hearts will continue to seek together what God desires of them. It assumes that members are in consistent, personal prayer with God, certainly sometimes struggling with God, but ultimately wanting to know and to be moved to the more of God's loving hopes for them. It will mean that the building of communion in this particular community will be done by all the members. They will feel responsible for their lives together by prayerfully sorting out how the community will grow and deepen in its commitment. A dis-cerning community is one which remains in close dialogue with its largerreligious congregation so that the mission of the reli-gious institute will not be limited in time, space, or place. It means that all the members of the community are implicitly or even explic-itly ready to be called out of the group for the sake of mission. Fourth, though conflicts and differences and misunderstand-ings are inevitable even in the best endeavors to foster commu-nion, nonviolence must be the understood atmosphere of their living and acting. This means that all members will respect the dignity of one another and of themselves as loved by God. It means that conflicts will be resolved in direct and peace-filled (even if strong) dialogue. It means that personality differences will be good-humoredly accepted, and value differences rever-ently discussed. It will be a place where visitors will instinctively feel the quieting peace of God's presence. Finally, and closely tied to the first understanding cited above, the community needs to be clear about its place in the larger reli-gious institute, that is, about its founding spirit, charism, mission orientation, and so forth. This clarity is important because com-munion and community must be lived and expressed faithfully within the boundaries, the identity, of a particular religious insti-tute and according to the specificity of one's consecrated com-mitment in it. Given these basic understandings and some of the attitudi-nal shifts necessary if consecrated religious are to move beyond individualism to a shared communion lived in community, there are, I think, some concrete things the group needs to agree on in order to become communities of real communion on mission: ¯ specific, consistent times for prayer together and simple faith-sharing and also for meals and social and celebrative Review for Retigiou.~ gatherings, keeping in mind and respecting the varying per-sonal and ministerial needs and responsibilities of the mem-bers of the community; ¯ times for dialogue about the vowed life, shared values, and other issues pertaining to our consecrated commitment and mission and also for larger congregational issues and global issues as well; ~ the centrality of the Eucharist in the life of the commu-nity; ¯ the expectations and (especially in the larger religious institutes) structures for co-responsibility and accountabil-ity in support of our vowed commitment and mission; ¯ the type of corporate lifestyle which, even in individual expressions of it, will give witness to our vowed commu-nity life; ¯ the knowledge of how to deal nonviolently with conflict and differences; ¯ a prayerful approach to community dialogue/discussion leading to corporate decisions, so that members may be mindful of working together to know God's desires for them in this; ¯ expectations regarding relaxed times together, times of enjoyment and simple togetherness, so that, even within their busy ministry schedules, members will have the time and the space to receive one another's vulnerability, to address conflicts peacefully, to offer and be offered recon-ciliation when necessary, and to support one another in their ministry. None of this is new in our experiences of religious life together. In my experience as provincial, communities which did agree to work consciously and simply at building quality community in sup-port of mission and commitment, in a communion of minds and hearts, had no trouble getting others interested in joining them. What I have outlined regarding attitudes, mentalities, under-standings necessary for the enfleshing of communion in commu-nity life may seem overwhelming if we view community as a task rather than simply as a way of sharing communion. As a provin-cial I always felt I was in a very privileged place when I was in dialogue with my sisters about our experiences of God as conse-crated vowed women in our congregation. Invariably our dia-logue would move into issues of community life and the question of the more that it could be--with our inner communion of minds and hearts becoming mole manifest, with our experiencing one another's support more dynamically, with our reaching out to oth-ers more widely. March-April 1997 Galvan ¯ Communion in Community Some have despaired that this kind of thing could happen. Some have already walked away emotionally and settled into their own world. Some are discouraged but still hopeful. Some have found and helped build such a community. Religious congregations spend much time--and often it is necessary--in meetings, gatherings, chapters where the agendas find their way even into mealtimes. Everyone complains, but the hectic pace of our gatherings continues. I think it might be good if each religious congregation would spend some extended time together with no other agenda than to share with one another, prayerfully and simply, some pieces of the story of our personal communion with God as we have experienced it in our particular religious institute. I believe that from such a gathering, from such a shared communion, a new fire--of joy in being together, of per-sonal and community energy for mission--would give witness to the presence, Within us and among us, of a God worthy of our all. I have spoken of the hope I sense as I hear religious speak of the desire for the more to which God calls us in our consecrated commitment and our mission in a hurting world. It is not a hope that is settled in false complacency and renders us stagnant, in deadening self-satisfaction. It is a fiery hope that gives us a holy sense of urgency and a willingness to be further transformed into what God desires us to be. It is a hope that has the buoyancy of love when it is founded on faith. It is a hope which gives life. Notes i David J. Nygren CM and Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ, "Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins 22,.no. 15 (24 September 1992), and Review for Religious 52, no. I (January-February 1993): 6-55, esp. pp. 42-51. 2 From a presentation to our province in the summer of 1993 by Barbara Valuckas SSND, PhD (PILGRIMinistries; 9 Academy Hill Road; Watertown, Connecticut 06795): "From Chaos, Facing Resistances, Acting on the Lights." Review for Religious ANNE MUNLEY Community and Prophetic Witness Idn this reflection on the ministerial, prophetic, and witness imensi0ns of communion, community, and common life, I have drawn from Vita consecrata (25 March 1996) and from vari-ous other writings about religious life "or being prophetic in today's society. I have considered some of the critical challenges and sin-ful distortions that are rupturing right relationship~s in our coun-try and our world. I have thought about some breative efforts of United States women religious to respond to urgent needs through a wide array of ministries flowing from their charisms. And I have found that a major benefit of reading or listening to material on the Synod on Consecrated Life has been ~in increased awareness of the church's universality and of the importance of being open to insights of other cultures and other areas of the world. The Icon of the Transfiguration Vita consecrata sets consecrated life on Trinftarian and Christological foundations. The icon of,the transfigured Christ provides a theological and spiritual view of the document. It helps us see that consecrated life has its center in the mystery of God, For many of us this may be a different entry point for reflecting on Anne Munley IHM, congregational administrator for the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary of Scranton, Pennsylvania, also serves as president of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious. Her address is Immaculate Heart of Mary Center; 2300 Adams Avenue; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18509. March-April 1997 Munley * Community and Prophetic lVitness consecrated life, communion, community, and mission. It emphasizes the Eastern concept of love of divine beauty and a mystical, contemplative focus that ultimately gets to action. In the West we tend to emphasize transformation, incarnation, kenosis, and an image of Jesus as "the anointed one" who pours forth his life for the sake of the many. In the transfiguration story, the disciples go up the mountain with Jesus and there they experience the beauty of God in the face of Jesus. It is an experience of communion and community. The disciples stay on the mountain experiencing the transfiguration together with Jesus; then together they go down the mountain to serve. In Vita consecrata the transfiguration icon is used to express an identity for consecrated life. It reminds us that we are called to be icons of God's love and beauty in the midst of the people and that it is the experience of communion with God, one another, and the world that impels us to mission. Further on in the document, a wonderful passage ties the quest for divine beauty direcdy to the imperative of prophetic witness amid urgent needs of the times: "The quest for divine beauty impels consecrated persons to care for the deformed image of God on the faces of their brothers and sisters, faces disfigured by hunger, faces disillusioned by political promises, faces humiliated by seeing their culture despised, faces frightened by constant and indiscriminate violence, the anguished faces of minors, the hurt and humiliated faces of women, the tired faces of migrants who are not given a warm welcome, the faces of the elderly who are without even the minimum conditions for a dignified life. The consecrated life thus shows with the eloquence of works that divine charity is the foundation and stimulus of freely given and active love" (VC §75). The transfiguration story offers much to ponder in regard to communion, community, the common good, prophetic living, and witnessing to the gospel. The Value of Both Being and Doing Vita consecrata and other contemporary works about religious life remind us that there is immense value in both being and doing. Vita consecrata describes community life, "understood as a life shared in love," as "an eloquent sign of ecclesial communion" (§42), It views consecrated life itself as % mission, as was the whole of Jesus' life," and defines this mission as "making Christ present Review for Religious to the world through personal witness" (§72). In Vita consecrata, "the witness of life and the witness of works of the apostolate and human development" are seen as "equally necessary" (§72). While being and doing are both important, it is our reason for being that gives shape to our doing. What religious must be in society is a far more significant question than what religious must do in society. In The Fire in These Ashes, Joan Chittister OSB vigorously calls attention to matters of being and doing. If religious life is to fulfill its purpose, it must be the kind of contemplative presence in the world that manifests the reign of God. It is not what we religious do that makes us witnesses to a God .who loves and liberates. It is why we do what we do and how we do it that signals hope to a hurting world. At a time when we hear much about diminishing numbers and relinquishment of long-cherished works, Chittister makes an important point: "The fact is that religious life was never meant simply to be a labor force in the church; it was meant to be a searing presence, a paradigm of search, a mark oi: human soul, and a catalyst to conscience in the society in which it emerged" (p. 2). To the extent that the quality of our communal presence in society and the collective witness of our works evoke awareness of the presence of a .compassionate and loving God, to that extent is our world being brought closer to God's reign. What religious must be in society is a far more significant question than what religious must do in society. The Prophetic Role of Consecrated Life Consecrated life is a dynamic gift of God to the church and to the world. It is neither static nor ahistorical, nor is it a self-serving refuge from the critical questions and pressing problems of our times. It is a call to be life for the world. It is a call to be a spar, k of light and a force for love in a world that cries oht for healing, truth, goodness, compassion, beauty, justice, community, and the full realization of human dignity and potential. All across history, religious life has been at its best when it has engaged directly with the culture of which it is a part, raising up what is good and lamenting all that distorts God's holy purposes. March-Aptql 1997 Munley * Community and Prophetic Witness The founders and foundresses of religious congregations were acutely sensitive to gaps that existed in their day between the realities of life and the vision set forth by Jesus. With great practicality, integrity, faith, courage, and trust, they named the pain of God's people, proclaimed an alternate vision, paid ~the price for their convictions, and with incredible ingenuity and resourcefulness inspired others to join with them in an effort to bear witness to a God of love, liberation, hope, mercy, and forgiveness. Today, too, critical involvement with the culture is essential to consecrated life. We must understand the world in which we live in order to challenge the status quo and imagine and announce an alternative future. It is for us, the believing community, to be bearers of hope. Our world needs to hear the challenge of prophetic words and to be challenged by prophetic action. As religious we need to be willing and able to "tell it as it is" and as it can be. We ourselves must turn away from sinful distortions that create gaps between the is and the ought to be. We must consciously choose to pay the price that fidelity will entail. We must be men and women of courage who find our strength and hope in God. Vita consecrata recognizes the prophetic role of religious life: "The consecrated life has the prophetic task of rec~lling and serving the divine plan for humanity, as it is announced in Scripture and as it emerges from an attentive reading of the signs of God's providential action in history" (§73). It reminds us that, in order to advance the prophetic t.ask, one needs profound experience of God, awareness of the challenges of the times, and an understanding of the theological meaning of these challenges in the light of the gospel. Vita consecrata.calls us once again, in the words of Gaudium et spes, to "respond to the perennial questions which people ask about this present life and the life to come, and about the relationship of the one to the other" and challenges us "to present new answers to the new problems of today's world" (§73). Joan Chittister OSB has given similar expression to the prophetic role of consecrated life: "The purpose of religious life is not survival; it is prophecy. The role of religious life is to bring to visibility what is Good News for our time now." (p. 26). She has described the relationship of religious li'fe to culture in varioug images as "a voice, a call, a presence, and a prophet in the world" (p. 71), as "a glaring light of conscience in a world grown coarse under the weight of an amoral, if not immoral kind of capitalism" Review for Religious (p. 22), and as a "sentry on the wall," a "bugler at dawn," "a lamplighter at night," and-"a candle on a far hill" (p. 71). The prophetic witness to which religious congregations are called has a communal and corporate character. Religious institutes are made up of men and women who hive publicly committed themselves to a life of radical interdependence and commonness of purpose. Individuals join communities to do together what they cannot do alone. Just as the participation of every member is needed to carry forward the mission and corporate direction of the congregation, so too are the voices of religious needed to raise up 'critical questions for the sake of the common good. In every culture and in every era there are expressions of grace and beauty as well as elements of de-humanization. It is a central task of religious life to give spiritual energy to the culture of the .times by calling the attention of the world to the spiritual dimensions of its actions. This is a task that closely parallels that of the Hebrew prophets. In denouncing poverty and the injustice and sinfulness of what was happening, they helped the community to grieve, lament, see other possibilities, and change ways in order to become whole. In calling anew for the presence and help of God, the prophets were able to reveal something new, a path not yet seen by the people. Vita consecrata and other works appropriately highlight the prophetic role that is fundamental to the life and mission of every religious congregation. Being called to engage with others in bearing prophetic witness is both challenging and disturbing; It sets before those of us who have freely chosen to live our baptismal call as members of a religious congregation some significant questions: Are we clear enough about who we are, what we stand for, and whom we stand with to critique our culture honestly and without bias? Are we passionate enough about our convictions to mirror to our culture the radical concern for the welfare of others that is at the heart of the gospel message? Do we have the generosity of spirit, tenacity, integrity, and resolve to change what needs to be changed in ourselves if we are to be a moral voice and prophetic sign of hope to our world? The prophetic witness to which religious congregations are called has a communal and corporate character. 147 March-April 1997 Munley ¯ Community and Prophetic Witness In a world of polarizations, strife, and divisions of every kind, the witness of community and concern for the common good are needed more than ever. God's self-communication takes place in every period of history. Present realities are the locus in which we encounter God. As at every other time, the prophetic role of religious life cannot be furthered without utter reliance on God, attention to and reflection on depth levels of experience, and a commitment to justice making--all fostered by contemplative prayer. Contemplation allows us to see injustice, to confront our own need for conversion, to lament, to see through situations, and to name new possibilities as we engage with the world and attempt to live the gospel. Prophets have a quality of attentiveness that lends integrity and authenticity to their lives. Contemplative attentiveness enables the prophet to hear the cry of the poor, to read the signs of the times, to experience Jesus as liberator and healer, and to pay the price of commitment. Community as a Prophetic Reminder Prophecy is an enduring gift of the Spirit. In the Hebrew Scriptures prophecy was the realm of individuals explicitly called by God to remind those in power that preserving the status quo cannot take precedence over the good of people, especially, the frailest and most vulnerable. In the Christian Scriptures the whole believing community is called to imagine and live toward the reality of God's reign in covenant relationships not only with God but with one another. In both the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures, caring for the poor and needy is an act of knowing God. A shared faith vision and unity of mind and heart ire identifying characteristics of Christian community. These are beautifully described in Acts 4:32-36: "The whole group of believers was united, heart and soul; no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, as everything they owned was held in common. The apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus with great power, and they were all accorded great respect. None of their members was ever in want, as all those who owned land or houses would sell them and bring the money from Review for Religious the sale of them to present to the aposdes; it was then distributed to any who might be in need?' This passage is a wonderful entry point for reflecting on community as a form of prophetic witness. The moral foundation for community lies in the simple fact that human beings need one another. By our vary nature we are meant for relationship. From the cradle to the grave, human beings hunger for bonds of unity, for support and connection. Jean Vanier, founder of L'Arche, knows well the power and the pull of community: We are, of course, called to grow and to grow in strength and competence, but this strength is for building up humanity in love, not for our own glory and power. We are not called to be independent islands separated from one another, closed up in self-satisfaction. We are all interconnected, interdependent, called to be one body. The weak need the strong just as the strong need the weak in order not to close up in suicidal acts of power and pride, wounding the child within. The mutual need of hearts is communion. (p. 167) Community is visible where the values of inclusion, participation, generosity, compassion, service, mutuality, shared responsibility, accountability, collective witness, and respect for diversity are put into practice. Living these values is both countercultural and transformative. For almost two thousand years, religious men and women have lived the struggle and sought the goal of community. Community life is an ideal worth keeping. It is a prophetic reminder that all human beings are called to oneness in God. In a world of polarizations, strife, and divisions of every kind, the witness of community and concern for the common good are needed more than ever. The call to unity in diversity is a centralparadox of the gospel as well as a challenge that transcends time and culture. It is a struggle of global proportions that also touches each of us very direcdy in the day-to-day circumstances of our lives in community and in mission. The struggle for unity in diversity can be painful because it involves yielding and relinquishment. Yet it also offers people of faith an opportunity to give transformative prophetic witness. !49 Marcb-Ap141 1997 Munley ¯ Community and Prophetic IVitness Issues of oneness and diversity are as old as human history. Anthropologists, historians, and sociologists have written volumes about the human consequences of "consciousness of kind" and "consciousness of difference" as they are played out in war, oppression, discrimination, and decisions about who matters and who does not matter. All of us have been affected by deeply internalized values, assumptions, opinions, stereotypes, and worldviews that consciously or unconsciously govern our behavior. We have all been affected profoundly by arbitrary lines that we humans draw to separate and fragment people and cultures. Yet, at the innermost levels of our being, we long for unity, harmony, wholeness, and a right ordering of relationships: One of the most challenging dimensions of faith is that we are called to oneness in God On 17:21). In struggling to be prophetic signs of unity inclusive of diversity, we have much to learn from a God who loves unconditionally and excludes no one. Throughout his entire life Jesus lived the principle of inclusive love to the fullest. The Gospels are rich with stories of his healing and empowering encounters with men and women of different classes, life experiences, and cultural traditions. Jes9s was a living reminder that harmony exists when wholeness incorporates diversity. In John's Gospel, during the discourse at the Last Supper, Jesus set forth his loving communion with his Father as the model for the love of disciples. The good news of the incarnation is that we are called to that same relationship with God and with one another. This call continues to be a prophetic challenge for our times. Some questions worth pondering with respect to the potential impact of the witness of religious community are: How big is our sense of community? Who is included and who is excluded? How can our modeling of community help to bridge cultural biases, ethnocentric thinking, and learned patterns of prejudice and discrimination? Some Signs of the Times Prophets and prophetic communities have the gift of. being able to read the signs of the times. What are some of the signs of our times that cry out for the healing restoration of community and the witness of prophetic action? As I reflect on .this world and on our compelling call to be prophetic signs of Gbd's all-inclusive love, I am struck by several Review for Religious ruptures in our social fabric that affect us as religious. As we stand on the threshold of the new millennium, our world is devastated by clashes that arise from hate and fear of "people who are not like us." In the cities, neighborhoods, and villages of Africa and Asia, Afghanistan, Northern Ireland, the Mideast, and North, Central, and South America, human beings are trampling on human rights and killing one another over economic, religious, political, racial, ethnic, or cultural differences. Hatred, racism, sexism, intolerance, greed, ,distorted loyalties, terrorism, and fanaticism are jeopardizing the survival of civilization. Worldwide and here in the United States, this sign of the times is challenging religious communities to show in practical ways a compassionate capacity to live together in wholeness without suppressing differences, blaming victims, or scapegoating the vulnerable. The level of violence in the world today is morally intolerable. It transcends national, cultural, and racial boundaries; it is more likely to occur in the home than on the streets; and it devastates the lives of families and children. In the United States alone, twenty-five children, the equivalent of a classroomful, are killed by guns every two days (State of America's Children). It is a national tragedy that inner-city children as young as ten tell psychiatrists and social workers that they think about death all the time. It is a national tragedy that many young black and Hispanic men have little or no hope of living beyond the age of eighteen. It is a national tragedy that one out of every five Americanochildren lives in poverty. It is a national tragedy that forty-one million uninsured lack healthcare coverage. It is a national tragedy that we have forged a culture hostile to .aliens and immigrants. Random shootings, domestic violence, and the killing of children by children are manifestations of systemic problems. Poverty, homelessness, racism, hate crimes, cheapened sexuality, materialism, ecological irresponsibility, and a devaluing of human life are all symptomatic of an erosion of compassion, community, social accountability, and spiritual values. There is something grossly out of balance in our world when the amount of money paid in one yea,r to a star athlete for endorsing a product is more than the combined wages paid to the factory workers who actually made the product (Wallis, p. 92). In the United States, income inequality continues to rise. In 1993, according to the U.S. Census Bureau, the wealthiest 20 percent of Americans earned 48 percent of all household income, ~'Harcb-ApHI 1997 Munley ¯ Community and Propbetic Wifness the highest ever recorded. In terms of poverty rates, the most vulnerable segments of the U.S. population are female-headed households (35 percent), African Americans (33 percent), Hispanics (31 percent), and children (20 percent). At present more than 39 million Americans, more than 15 percent of the population, live below the poverty level (Wallis, p. 95). All this occurs while euphemisms about welfare reform threaten the most helpless women and children in our society. Predictions for the future are bleak if root causes of social breakdown remain t~naddressed. The Children's Defense League projects that if social and economic trends of the last twenty years are allowed to continue, 24 percent of all American children under 18 will be poor by the year 2001; one million babies will be born into poverty each year; 44,000 teen mothers will give birth every month; and 37,000 children will be arrested every week (State of America's Children, p. xxii). Globally we know there is a failure of community when the richest 20 percent of the world's population enjoys 85 percent of the world's income, while the poorest 20 percent struggles to survive on only two percent (1994 U.N. Human Development Report). There is a failure of community when nearly 800 million people face persistent everyday hunger and much larger numbers suffer from malnutrition and temporary hunger ("Hunger--the Facts," pp. 18-19). If the prophets of old were here today, they would have much to lament and alternative possibilities to hold up before us. Prophets have the task of keeping the vision before the people. Prophets are keenly attuned to the critical needs of their time. This is a time when the gospel mandate of love of God and love of neighbor requires much of religious communities, It is a time for us to help regenerate a sense of community from the ground up. It is a time to learn and to teach others how to communicate across boundaries. It is a time to model nonviolent ways of resolving disputes. It is a time to rekindle willingness to support and enable one another in meeting unmet needs. It is a time to raise up questions of the common good. It is a time for a spiritual transformation of attitudes, values, and behaviors, It is a time when actions of the present will profoundly impact the future. It has often been said that the best test of a nation is how it treats children, the poor, strangers, outcasts, the weak, and the vulnerable. The Hebrew prophets saw this as the truest measure of Review for Religious integrity. As religious communities we have a wonderful capacity to be forces for justice and integrity. As we look to the future, do we have the faith, courage, and commitment to be a voice for the voiceless? How strong is our corporate resolve to be creators of community, menders of broken relationships, and healers of a troubled world? The Need for Creative Response As I look back on the history of religious life in the United States, I am awed by how much has been accomplished with so little in the way of material resources. What our forbears were able to do, often in unassuming ways, is truly astounding. It was prophetic reading of the times that prompted them to create Catholic healthcare, an educational system that spans from early childhood to late life, and a bevy of catechetical, pastoral, and social services for'a nation of immigrants. They were pioneers who saw what needed to be done arid ~et about doing it togethdr. Their willingness to sacrifice for what they believed in and their passionate Commitment to God, the church, their congregations, and one another were priceless resources. They were individuals bonded by a shared sense of purpose, experience of communion, and the support of community life. They were men and women whose prophetic witness of community and ministry made significant impact on their times. Among the key findings of the 1992 LCWR Threads for the Loom study of the ministry of women religious is the fact that, even at a time of diminishment, U.S. women religious are persistent in their efforts to respond to urgent needs in a world and society characterized by shifting valties and an unprecedented rate of change. This study provides considerable evidence of concern for the common good and of ongoing responsiveness to populations at risk: children, young people, the elderly, women, families in crisis, and the urban poor. Almost ninety percent of the respondents report that their institutes have enabled uncompensated ministry with the materially poor. Eighty-five percent indicate that their institutes have sponsored works that imply attentiveness to As religious communities we have a wonderful capacity to be forces for justice and integrity. March-April 1997 Munley ¯ Community and Prophetic Witness emerging needs. Almost thirty percent say that their institutes have created new not-for-profit corporations. Of these, almost sixty percent describe the new ministry corporations as addressing various needs for housing. In terms of projections, fifty percent of the participants in this study predicted an increase in the number of their sisters who would be serving five needy population groups by 1996: the homeless, women, persons with AIDS, the elderly, and persons for whom English is a second language. Community leaders also projected increased involvement of their sisters in programs concerned with hunger, housing, unemployment, infant and child day care, latchkey children, adult day care, women's resource centers, English as a second language, ecology, and peace. In the various institutes' statements regarding future directions for ministry, five themes emerged: a preferential option f6r and solidarity with the poor; the promotion of systemic change; ministry with and empowerment of women; collaboration with other groups and other religious institutes; and ministry with children, young people, and families in distress. How accurate were these projections? Information about various collaborative ministry projects gathered by LCWR from 1994 to the present suggests that religious institutes across the country--in collaboration with one another and with dioceses and civic and social agencies--are responding to those in greatest need with creativity, ingenuity, and significant sharing of resources. Most of the projects focus on the needs of poor women or of poor women and children. Areas of ministry targeted by the projects include education on all levels, literacy, housing, domestic violence, homelessness, healthcare, crisis intervention, empowerment, after-school programs, social services, and retreat work.~Many of these ministries serve multicultural populations. None of them would have come into being without the commitment and participation of religious communities. In Vita consecrata the religious of the world are urged to respond to the needs of the times with "creative fidelity" to, their charisms. Like the prophets, of old, with an eye to the contemporary scene and an ear attuned to God, religious communities are attempting to do this. Tl~e fact that religious live a common life enables and sustains empowering ministry among God's people. At a time when many forces converge to make God less visible in society, the witness of community life is a sign of the Review for Religious beauty and power of God's love at work in our world. The reign of God is both here and not yet. Contemplative attention to the injustices, sufferings, and spiritual hungers of our day shows that much is needed for our wounded world's healing. Yet, through the goodness of God, so much has begun. Some words of the poet Denise Levertov invite further reflection: How could we tire of hope? --so much is in bud. How can desire fail? --we have only begun. Works Cited Chittister, Joan. The Fire in These Ashes. Kansas City: Sheed and Ward, 1995. "Hunger--the Facts." New Internationalist. May 1995: 18-19. Lahr, Dolores. Collaborative Ministry Projects: 1994, 199Y, and 1996 vol-umes. Silver Sj3ring, Maryland: Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 1994, 1995, and 1996. Levertov, Denise. "Beginners." In Cries of the Spirit, edited by Marilyn Sewell. Boston: Beacon Press, 1991. Munley, Anne. Threads for the Loom. Silver Spring, Maryland: Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 1992. I~94 Unite~ Nations Human Development Report. New York: United Nations, 1994. The State of America's Children: Yearbook 1994. Washington, D.C.: Children's Defense Fund, 1994. U.S, Census Bureau. The Dynamics of Economic Well-Being: Poverty 1990- 1992. Washingtonl D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1995. Va.nier, Jean. Jesus the Gift of Love. New York: Crossroad, 1994. Wallis, Jim. Who Speaks for God? New York: Delacorte Press, 1996. I55 ~larch-April 1997 KENNETH C. RUSSELL John Cassian on Asceticism lenten reflections Asceticism has not only acquired a bad reputation, it sim-ply no longer seems relevant. It does not help, of course, that for some people the very word conjures up images of hairshirts and spiked belts, of frenzied monks beating themselves black and blue with lead-studded Whips, and of hermits in narrow cells hooking their knotted hair to nails in the wall to hold themselves upright while they sleep. Even in its more prosaic forms, asceticism suggests "self-denial," the disciplining of the "sinful" body. Try as they may to justify these various practices, many people of the 1990s feel uncomfortable with the body-soul split that makes the corporeal aspect of their being the enemy to be overcome. They readily subscribe, therefore, to the view that traditional asceticism was essentially a Greek-inspired aberration that is better left behind, now that people fully appreciate the body-soul integrity of their human nature. They welcome the idea that a new, unselfish, socially-oriented asceticism, in which people expend them-selves in the service of their neighbor, has pushed aside an earlier version that was self-centered and focused on pun-ishing the body. The new asceticism, after all, is about being in the world rather than escapingfr0m it. This is all well and good, but unfortunately we of the 1990s still find ourselves drinking too much, eating too much or too little, driven by ambition, anxious, worried, Kenneth C. Russell, now retired from St. Paul University in Ottawa, lives at 1505-40 Landry Street; Vanier, Ontario; K1L 8K4 Canada. Review for Religious sad, or perhaps simply adrift. Our discomfort with the way we are forces us to seek the assistance of therapists, psychiatrists, and self-help books. The one place where we seldom go for help is tra-ditional asceticism. We may continue to pay lip service to it, but it is forever associated in our minds with an anti-body stance we find repugnant. It is no longer relevant. This point is repeated over and over again in articles and talks. But is it true? Certainly at some point something did go wrong with asceticism. At some point asceticism became a primarily puni-tive, penitential action aimed at the body. This is undeniable. But does this fact--which must, of course, be qualified far more than I have time to do here--justify the presumption that traditional asceti-cism was skewed from the very beginning? Was there perhaps something good there after all? In fact, how can we even jump to the conclusion that asceticism was one tightly unified doctrine in the early church, given the differ-ences between Basil, Augustine, Evagrius, Jerome, and many oth-ers? If the Greek attitude toward the body was indeed a virus that Cassian's keen awareness of psychology and spiritual development provides a basis for the integration of the practical wisdom of the desert and modern psychology. infected Christian thinking, would it not have infected the thought of some writers more than others? Would these ideas not be stronger in one place than in another? Scholars love to ponder the erudite works of Evagrius Ponticus, the courtier turned her-mit, but is it so certain that theory predominated over practice in the heat of the Egyptian desert, where most of the hermits were uneducated peasants? In our rush to move on, are we seeing unity where in. fact there was diversity? Have we stopped listening to the past on the issue of asceticism simply because "the anti-body, Greek aberration" label we encounter so often has led us to pre-sume that what is being said there is not worth our full attention? I want to challenge this fashionable writing off of the past by examining John Cassian's basic theories on asceticism. I have cho-sen Cassian (ca. 365-ca. 435) for several reasons. First, he was one of the major channels through which the ascetical tradition of the Egyptian desert reached Western monasticism. As everyone knows, ~S¢larch-April 1997 Russell ¯ ~obn Cassian on Asceticism St. Benedict's Rule recommends the reading of Cassian's Institutes and Conferences. Secdnd, it is my conviction that Cassian's keen awareness of psychology and spiritual development provides a basis for the integration of the practical wisdom of the desert and mod-ern psychology. In other words, I maintain that, if we hope to reconstruct a healing, reformative asceticism that respects our human nature and spiritual destiny, we must go back to Cassian and build from there. Be that as it may, my immediate purpose is merely to demonstrate that the "anti-body" label routinely attached to the teaching of the Fathers is not necessarily accurate. I want to look at three elements of John Cassian's thought. First, his anthropology. How does he understand the interaction of the body and the mind, the flesh and the spirit? What does he make of the tension between them? Second, I want to examine the goal and purpose of asceticism as they are set out in his writ-ings. Third, I want to consider his teaching on the various "pas-sions" that afflict us because, unless we accurately hear what he has to say about these compulsive patterns of behavior, we will not appreciate the therapeutic dimension of his thought. Anthropology "How authors deal 5vith the tension between flesh and spirit vividlydescribed by St. Paul (Ga 5:17 and Rm 7-8) is surely the touchstone by which their view of human nature may be assessed. Cassian discusses this issue in his fourth conference, which is sup-posedly spoken to Cassian and his traveling companion Germanus by Abba Daniel, one of the desert masters of the spiritual life. I call attention, first, to Cassian's fundamentally optimistic stance toward the way thin'gs are. He insists that the tension between flesh and spirit has been implanted in us by God. How, then, he asks, can something that God has implanted in each of us possi-bly be harmful rather than helpful? We note here something that recurs throughout Cassian's writings: the conviction that a mea-sure of struggle and stress is good for us: This conflict implanted in us by the arrangement of the Creator is in a way useful to us, and calls and urges us on to a higher state; and, if it ceased, most surely would ensue on the other hand a peace that is fraught with danger.* Cassian would rather have us involved in a moral struggle than see us calmly drifting along in what amounts to a false peace. Review for Religious The weakness of the flesh keeps the soaring spirit realistic, while the spirit keeps the flesh from reducing life to food, drink, and sex. In John Cassian's oddly existentialist view of life, there is no gain without pain. We become human by taking hold of the ele-ments of our life and dealing with them. Our identity, we might say, is not given at birth, but achieved by the effort to become an adult. Difficulties, pains, and struggles of various kinds are seen, therefore, as grace-given opportunities for advancement. Cassian teaches that we must deal with our "carnality," that we must accept the challenges it poses for us, because the peaceful alternative, which might well look appealing, is actually a descent into animality. Animals live in the given without struggle. We human beings become animal, not when we become carnal, but when we aban'don efforts to become human by effecting a peace-ful consortium of body and soul. The carnal condition of human-ity, uncomfortable as it may be at times, is therefore a great blessing. But how does Cassian interpret Paul's reference to "flesh" and "spirit"? He begins by remarking that flesh has various mean-ings in the Bible. Sometimes it refers to the whole human beirig, body and soul; at other times, to people as sinners or to the sins themselves. It can also indicate a "flesh of my flesh" closeness. But he argues that, in Paul's reference to the conflict between flesh and spirit, the two terms have an active rather than a sub-stantive meaning. They indicate the direction of the will, the ori-entation of the whole being. Flesh is an orientation toward the delights of the present life: a full stomach and a sound night's sleep. Spirit thirsts for spiritual things even to the extent of being in danger of neglecting the body's needs. We are not far here from the argument of modern exegetes who maintain that spirit is the'whole being under the influence of the Spirit and that flesh is the human being alienated from God and focused on lesser ends. We note, however, that Cassian asso-ciates "flesh" with the body inasmuch as the body is the vehicle of present delights--although this is balanced by his realization that "spirit," the basic orientation toward God and virtue, can be exces-sive and can lead us to disregard the needs of our fragile bodies. Consequently, in Cassian's view, the struggle we experience within us is between our spiritual aspirations and the basic needs of the body. We must opt for spirit, but not to such an extent that we try to bypass our human reality. 2~larch-Apri11997 Russell ¯ .~obn Cassian on Asceticism In fact, as we have seen, we achieve our full human stature precisely through t,.his flesh-spirit conflict: When, in consequence of the lukewarmness arising from this sluggish will of which we have spoken; the mind has been more easily entangled in carnal desires, it is checked by the desire of the spirit, which by no means acquiesces in~ earthly sins; and again, if through overmuch feeling our spirit has been carried in unbounded fervor towards ill-con-sidered and impossible heights, it is recalled by the weakness of the flesh to sounder considerations and, rising above the lukewarm condition of our free will with due proportion and even course, proceeds along the way of perfection? We must keep in mind that Cassian sees this tug and pull of flesh and spirit as a limitation that is a blessing from God. He puts it on a par with the fracturing of the universal language at the Tower of Babel, which, in his view, rescued humanity from its pride by reminding it of its fragility. In Cassian's opinion, the struggle between flesh and spirit keeps us conscious that we are human. Actually, the bo.dy's needs serve Cassian as the norm by which the appropriateness or excessiveness of asceticism may be mea-sured. The body's legitimate needs moderate any spiritual exces-siveness that tries to bypass or ignore our human condition: "We ought to refresh ourselves with food and sleep at the proper time even if we dislike it.''3 Indeed, Cassian insists that it would be cruel to fast when the body needs food. It would be equally wrong to deprive the body of the sleep it needs. In fact, the failure to meet the body's need of both nutrition and rest backfires because the imprudent ascetic is left feeling weak and drowsy. Excess, in other words, interferes with the alertness and strength needed to maintain a vigorous life of prayer. It is important to keep this principle of meeting the body's needs in mind because it will moderate our shock at the asceticism the Desert Fathers actually practiced. We must realize that, when Cassian's interlocutors suggest for each day two hardtack buns weighing scarcely a pound, a little water, and a few hours sleep overnight, they are conforming to their understanding of what the body's needs are. They are not out to hurt the body or even to deny it anything necessary for its well-being. They are simply attempting to pare away all excess. A softer image of Cassian's attitude toward the body is given in the last paragraphs of several conferences where we see the abba break off his talk to ensure that his listeners get the sleep they Review for Religious need. In one conference there is even a delightful account of an abba setting a mouth-watering Sunday banquet before his guests. Each monk present is served three olives, five chick-peas, two prunes, and one fig, in addition to the normal allotment of bread! Little touches such as this make the desert seem a human place despite the austerities that were practiced there. There are other stories, unfortunately, which indicate that some hermits refused to respect the body-spirit reality of the human condition, One solitary went to such extremes in fasting and solitude that he lost his mental bal-ance and became convinced that, should he fall from a great height, he would be borne up on angel wings. He died from his injuries shortly after putting his theory to the test. Cassian emphasizes that, if we avoid the flesh-spirit conflict, we turn into animals. He also emphasizes that, if we act as though we are angels without a human body, we run the risk of spiritual shipwreck. Too little food and sleep is just as bad as too much food and sleep, "for excess of fasting and gluttony come to the same thing, and an unlimited continuance of vigils is equally injurious to a monk as the torpor of deep sleep.''4 The extremes touch.In relation to the body, therefore, asceticism is about meeting needs rather than satisfying desires. The problem, obviously, is that we want more than we need. Asceticism does not ignore human needs; it refuses to cater to excessive desires. Although Cassian advocates an aus-tere ascetical regime, the theory behind it is a long way from the self-denying, penitential asceticism with which we are familiar. It has a different basis altogether. It also has a different purpose. People today often associate asceticism With the effort to gain self-control through a "mind over matter" exercise, or they think of it as penance done for sins committed. Cassian sees it, however, as a more integral part of the spiritual life. This is particularly significant for the monastic audience he addresses. In fact, in the first conference of the series, Abba Moses identifies the ascetical life with the monastic life itself. Asceticism does not ignore human needs; it refuses to cater to excessive desires. The Goal and Purpose of Asceticism Every art or discipline, Abba MoseS points out, has two goals: :lqarch-April 1997 Russell ¯ ~obn Cassian on Asceticism one immediate and the other long-range. The immediate goal serves as the means to attain the ultimate goal. A farmer, for exam-ple, works hard to have a good yield from his fields. The boun-tiful harvest constitutes his immediate goal. It is the sine qua non of the good life that is his ultimate aim. What, Abba Moses asks, is the ultimate aim of the monk, and what is the immediate goal which serves as the necessary means to that end? Cassian and Germanus answer that the final aim of the monas-tic life--its ultimate goal--is the kingdom of God. But what, they ask, is the immediate goal by which the ultimate end is attained, partially by hints here and now and completely in the life to come? Abba Moses replies: Purity of heart. We must not be too quick to write off "purity of heart" as merely a biblical expression that enables Cassian to sidestep the negative connotations the West associated with apatheia. Nor must we let our awareness of how much Cassian the practitioner owes to Evagrius the theoretician lead us to conclude that purity of heart is merely apatheia masquerading under another name. The best way to detour around our prejudices about either term is to consider what "purity of heart" actually means in Cassian's works. First of all, it is synonymous with holiness. It is sanctity achieved, if we may use such an acquisitive adjective for a grace-given condition. Cassian makes the correspondence between love and purity of heart clear when he says that the goal of asceticism is "purity of heart, which is charity." This is really the point of the ascetical practices: "that through them we may be enabled to prepare our heart and to keep it unharmed by all evil passions, and resting on these steps to mount to the perfection of charity.''5 Purity of heart is, consequently, the condition of peo-ple so possessed by love that they act spontaneously out of love rather than out of concupiscence. The Passions When Cassian talks about purity of heart or perfect love, he means more than a noble intention or act of will. He has in mind a spontaneous, unfailing readiness to act out of love. Love, in other words, must become the energy driving all our actions. We must become loving. It is easy to say we love God, but the fact of the matter is that all kinds of behavior patterns automatically spring into action Review for Religious throughout the day to contradict our words. Let someone cut us off in traffic and we respond aggressively without thinking. Let some coworker boast a bit, and we find ourselves competitively parading our own petty triumphs for applause. We say we love God above all things, but we render ourselves less fit for service by habits of eating and drinking that are detrimental to our health. Or, taking the opposite tack, we give such strict attention to what we eat and drink that we ourselves seem to assume first place in the universe. We seem, in short, to be pro-grammed by our training and habits to act in certain ways. These automatic patterns of behavior, these pressures, these compulsions, are what Cassian refers to when he speaks about "the passions." He looks at human beings from a phenomenological point of view. What he sees is that one person is prone to eat too much and another, too little; that one individual is pulled toward greed and another toward lust. He sees that this is the way things are, but, unlike ourselves, who are under the influence of Freud, he has no interest in discovering why this person feels one compulsion and that person quite another, The immediate problem itself is what holds his attention. What is evident is that, whatever our self-centered reactions may be, they interfere with our desire to love God and neighbor. We say we love, but we are not sponta-neously loving. We still act in ways that are against God, our neighbor, and our own well-being. Cassian is not really preoccupied with gluttons, sex-fiends, or proud dictators trying to dominate the world. He is concerned, not with vices, but with the traces of them in good, morally upright Christians who are striving to do their best. He is talking, therefore, not about sins, but about the moral diseases which afflict us. If these diseases go untreated, they can indeed take over our whole life; they can become vices. As the list Cassian received from Evagrius Ponticus passed through time, it became a list of vices or capital sins. But we must bear in mind that for Cassian it is a list of diseases, which call for healing. Sickness, not guilt, is the primary reality, and the issue is not how we got this way but what we are going to do about it. When Cassian talks about purity of heart or perfect love, he has in mind a spontaneous, unfailing readiness to act out of love. March-Ap~q11997 Russell * ~obn Cassian on Asceticism These pressures we experience stand in the way of purity of heart or perfect love. We are not well. Cassian, therefore, asks: How do we get better? The same question could be formulated in different terms: How do we find freedom? How can we acquire a tranquil mind and be at peace with God, neighbor, the world, and our very self?. This is a medical question, at least metaphorically. Ca~sian, therefore, takes a medical approach and offers a medical answer. His medical orientation is evident, first of all, in the diagnostic model he employs. Anyone who has read the Greek historian Thucydides' vivid description of the bubonic plague that struck Athens in 430 B.C. (History of the Peloponnesian War, Book 2) is familiar with the Greek diagnostic technique. This approach meticulously notes the symptoms of an illness, its development, and, finally, what it is like at its most virulent stage when it has, in effect, taken over a person's life. Cassian deals briefly with disordered eating, sexual tension, avarice, anger, sadness, acedia, vainglory, and pride in conference 5, but he discusses each one at length in a series of studies in his Institutions (Books 5-12). The usual procedure is for the symp-toms of the disease to be outlined and a full-blown case to be described. The case studies actually make this 5th-century work seem very contemporary, for it is precisely this approach we are used to encountering in books and articles popularizing various psychological theories. This is an important point because it reminds us that Cassian's conception of asceticism is broader than our own. Cassian is deal-ing with complex psychospiritual and social elements which press an individual in one direction or another. Asceticism, therefore, is as much about psychology as it is about spirituality. Cassian, in fact, has a holistic view of human nature. He is trying to solve human problems, and, since he does not share our piecemeal view that this is a psychological problem while that is a spiritual prob-lem, his asceticism aspires to cure the Whole person. What he communicates in his examples, therefore, is the psy-chological and spiritual wisdom of the Egyptian desert. This wis-dom can be brought into dialogue with our own knowledge of psychology so that a mutual enrichment and correction can take place. At the very least, this awareness of the psychological dimen-sion of asceticism should force us to integrate asceticism into the whole story of our life instead of letting it sit on the periphery like Review for Religious some alien technique that has little to do with our total growth. If asceticism is about punishing or disciplining the wayward body, we feel we. can live without it. But, if asceticism is about coming to grips with the psychospiritual and social pressures we experi-ence, then it may indeed have a place in our lives. Cassian uses the medical model to shape the large-scale struc-ture of his studies on the passions. It is even more significant, however, that he uses medical terminology to discuss moral issues. Such words as "illness" and "infection," "remedy" and "cure," are found throughout Cassian's works. Their recurrence reinforces the point that what is at issue is sickness and healing, not sin and punishment. When asceticism is linked to sin and punishment, it follows that, though one form of penance may be harder than another, they are all essentially the same. They differ only in how quickly or how slowly they expiate sin. Once this prin-ciple is accepted, people can balance their penitential accounts by .substituting a long penance for a shorter but harder one. In fact, all kinds of ingenious equiv-alencies become possible. For example, when King Henry II received three years on crusade as part of his. penance for the murder of Archbishop Thomas Becket, he arranged to substitute the establishment of three monasteries for the period of military service. But, if asceticism is viewed as therapeutic, one ascetical strat-egy cannot be substituted for another. One ascetical effort, like some medications, may be helpful in treating more than one ill-ness, but by and large the forms of asceticism are not inter-changeable. If acedia (a sort of listless discontent with where we are and what we are doing) is the problem, "taking" the remedy for sadness is not going to help. The struggle against acedia, the infamous "noonday demon" of the desert, demands that we hold on hard to the doorposts of our cell so that nothing can pull us away from it, while the strug-gle against sadness requires us to force our way through the dark-ness to fix our eyes on our future hope. Both of these ascetical strategies are actually more psychological than physical, but this If asceticism is about coming to grip.s with the psychospiritual and social pressures we experience, then it may indeed have a place in our lives. 16Y March-April 1997 Russell ¯ ~obn Cassian on Asceticism only serves to underline that Cassian does not think of asceticism as a purely physical action to discipline the body. If our spiritual problem is in the mind, disciplining the body does not make much sense. Practicing some physical form of asceticism while ignoring the mental dimension of all we do leads to failure. Thus, although Cassian recommends fasting as an effective remedy for sexual ten-sion, he is also aware of the psychological, aspects of the prob-lem. He insists that we take care not to let ourselves become overly pressured by our work or other preoccupations. Cassian's medical bag does not contain a plethora of physical means of asceticism. There is little more than fasting and vigils or, in other words, the regulation of food and sleep. In both cases the plan is to have not less than needed, but the barebones right amount with no excess for self-indulgence. Fasting is not a mat-ter of eating less on certain days, but of eating the same amount later in the day than usual. The hungry hermit's question was not "How much will I eat today?" but "Will I eat once or twice today and when?" Fasting, however, does serve Cassian as a kind of basic rem-edy to accompany all other prescriptions. Fasting, after all, strikes at our drive to put ourselves at the center of the world, with all other things and people for our use. Nothing is more self-cen-tered, assertive, and potentially aggressive than eating. It is a miniaturization of our readiness to ingest the world. Fasting reins in this egocentricity and ensures that eating serve the needs of the body rather than the expansive claims of the imperial self. Disordered eating--overeating, undereating, eating at inap-propriate times, and so forth--stands at the head of the list of passions Cassian inherited. There was a tendency, therefore, for some of the monks in the Egyptian desert to think that, if they could stave off moral decline by remedying any tendency to dis-ordered eating by fasting, they would have nothing further to worry about. They thought, in effect, that if they stopped the moral ball from tumbling down the hill by giving all their atten-tion to disordered eating, they would not have to tackle the other passions in the list. This is naive, of course, and a misunder-standing of the moral complexity the list describes. It also makes fasting far more important than it should be. It becomes the sole and exclusive key to peace of heart and tranquillity of mind. Worst of all, since this view of asceticism separates fasting from a ther~ apeutic context, it encourages an anti-body attitude. Review for Religious Cassian considers untenable the notion that fasting is all there is to asceticism and moral reform. He has three reasbns. First, noting that some passions have a physical origin, that others have a mental one, and that still others stem from both mind and body, he shows that fasting leaves one of these groups untouched. Second, although Cassian has been accused of semi-Pelagianism for his inept opposition to Augustine's darker view of fallen human nature, he makes it clear that asceticism is merely a means to an end--no more than a tool--and that the ascetical practices of the Egyptian desert are merely one set of tools; another set includes almsgiving and social service. Third, and most important, what-ever means a person may use, the result ultimately depends on the grace of God. The tools must not become an end in them-selves, for all the fasting and sleeplessness in the world are not going to merit salvation for a monk. Two Ways of Looking at Cassian There are two ways of looking at John Cassian's work. If we make a point of standing back to get an objective view, we are likely to see a body of writings focused exclusively on a monastic, ascetical lifestyle far from the world of commerce and family life. Even admitting that Cassian must have been aware that sanctity can be attained at least occasionally along a different path, we might still find in him an obsession with monasticism that seems an implicit denigration of the other, active forms of Christian life. Moreover, the asceticism he puts forward as moderate may strike us as severe. Indeed, the whole ascetical regime of the desert hermits may suggest that the Egyptian desert was a highly com-petitive place where altogether too much attention was paid to the quest for personal sanctity. This view, I would argue, is the product of a superficial reading. In this article we have tried, on the contrary, to look at Cassian's teaching on asceticism from his own point of view. This leaves us with the idea tl~at asceticism is a therapeutic tool to recondition, under grace, the reactions of body and mind so that all our actions, even those we perform spontaneously without thought, will be in harmony with our int6ntion to love God, our neighbor, and ourselves. Cassian was in error about how much food and sleep the body needs. It is also evident that his teachings on the passions need to 2~larcb-April 1997 Russell ¯ ~obn Cassian on Asceticism be corrected in some instances and supplemented in all of them. We cannot follow him, for example, in his effort to eradicate anger because, unlike him, we appreciate that the inclination to anger plays a positive role in human life. But, by and large, Cassian's orientation is sound and wholesome. In the secular world in which we live, we realize that for many reasons we are not the free, healthy human persons we would like to be, and so we seek to be healed. In this, Cassian shares our point of view. He sees asceticism as a therapeutic program to help people .toward their ultimate goal. In addition, far from spurn-ing our bodily reality, he insists that it be recognized and respected. His teaching challenges the conviction common today that early asceticism was always a body-hating aberration of the Greek mind-set. I suggest, moreover, that Cassian's writings of sixteen hundred years ago provide healthy roots on which today's Christians might graft a hardy new synthesis of spirituality and contemporary psychology for third-millennial people on their journey to God. Notes t John Cassian, Conference 4.7, in Edgar C.S. Gibson, "The Works of John Cassian," in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fatbers, 2nd series, vol. 11, A Select Library of the Christian Church (Oxford: James Parker and Co., 1894, reprinted by William B. Eerdmans in 1964), p. 333. 2 Conference 4.12, p. 335. 3 Conference 2.17, p. 316. 4 Conference 2.16, p. 316. s Conference 1.7, p. 297. Mary's Steps Childish toes kiss temple stairs. Maiden soles take joy's fleet wing. Fleeing heels, in exile bound. Searching feet, he must be found. Weary ~steps

Issue 53.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1994. ; OUS Christian Heritages and ContemporaryLiving MARCH-APRIL 1994 ¯ VOLUME 53 ¯ NUMBER 2 ¯ Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ° Fax: 314-535-0601 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 ° P.O. Box 29260 ¯ Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1994 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. review for religious Editor David L. Fleming Associate Editors Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Canonical Counsel Editor Elizabeth McDonough OP Assistant Editors ¯ Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Advisory Board Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Susanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH-APILIL 1994 ¯ VOLUME 53 ¯ NUMBER 2 contents 166 feature In the Midst of the Times: Religious Life and the Ever-Present Experience of the World John W. Padberg SJ presents three historical perspectives on religious life to aid in imagining and planning for the future. commitments 182 Vowed Witness in a Church Intent on Love 189 196 David Maria Knight suggests that religious are examples and models of that dramatic gesture which is a key element in launching anyone into passionate relationship with God. Quest for an Undivided Heart Theresa Mancuso ponders a heart focused on God in a life of consecrated chastity. Imaged Celibacy: A Reflection for Priests Brian C. Yates proposes a way of imaging that allows us to enter more freely into the reality of celibate living. challenges 200 Needed: An Ethic of Memories 208 214 222 Joanne Marie Greer suggests various ethical aspects that need to be considered when sharing memories, especially those which are a part of therapeutic counseling. ADiscipline of Self-Respect William Mockus describes the need for spiritual discipline as a function of self-respect. A Transformational Journey Annete Adams SND observes the cycle of the monarch butterfly to gain understanding about the spiritual-direction process. Community for Today and Tomorrow Janet Roesener CSJ sets forth the call and challenges for reli-gious to live a covenantal community life. 162 Review for Religious 231 238 254 263 directions Fruitfulness versus Achievement Peter G. Van Breemen SJ reflects on the distinction which we Christians need to make between achievement and the biblical notion of fruitfulness. Old Brothers and Young, Dreams and Visions Robert C. Berger FSC uses images of the Hebrew Scriptures to shed light on the action of God and the relevance of brother-hood. Just Look at the Lord Joel Giallanza CSC presents a simple and practical melding of our desire to pray and our praying from Teresa of Avila. Pray Always: John Cassian on Distractions Kenneth C. Russell applies the insights of John Cassian to help us live a life focused on God amidst the distractions of the modern world. reflections 273 Genesis Continued Mary Michael McCulla CDP poetically reflects a kind of Genesis account of woman. 278 Called to the Harvest Vera Gallagher RGS enters us into her experience of God's healing grace in people's troubled lives. 285 report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and ~7orks 1993 Kenneth G. Davis .OFMConv presents a panoramic of the year's events within the U:S. Hispanic Catholid community. departments ¯ ¯ 164 Prisms 303 Canonical Counsel: Norms for Renewal and Reflections on Its Progress 309 Book Reviews Marcb-/lpri11994 163 prisms ~edo not necessarily compliment our-selves when we compare ourselves to the first disciples of Jesus. For example, the two disciples on their way to Emmaus do not symbolize either gospel people (evange-lizers) or apostolic people (on a mission). In a way, of course, they are pilgrim people, journeying, although they are running away from Jerusalem, where their lives are meant to be centered. They know a lot about Jesus-- enough to k6ep talking about him at least between them-selves or privately with an amiable stranger. Yet what stands out in their telling of the Jesus story is their own disappointment. Disappointment may be the common cross that afflicts us followers of Jesus all the more because we like to describe ourselves as Alleluia people. These two disciples symbolize disappointment immediately after Jesus' pas-sion. During the active ministry of Jesus, a rich man with much fervor wanted to lead a holy life, but walked away from Jesus--disappointed with his kind of "Beatitude" challenge. Other disciples caused Jesus such pain by their leaving that he asked Peter and the others identified as the Twelve, "Will you leave me too?" People had left cha-grined by all this foolish talk about Jesus being the food and drink of their lives. They were unwilling to live with promise in such incarnate guise. Disappointment can certainly be a difficult cross to bear for us Christ-followers. For us present-day disciples of the one who has overcome death, it somehow seems "not right" to have to continue to face defeat, failure, and betrayal, especially from agents that speak or act in Christ's 164 Review for Religi?us name. How can we not be disappointed when the Vatican is the only agency among all the world's states which recognizes a repressive government in Haiti? How legitimate the disappoint-ment is when we face the problem of certain clerics or religious who betrayed a trust by their sexual abuse of a child! How disap-pointing for us as a community is the high percentage of failed marriages, often within our own families--marriages celebrated with all the beauty and solemn commitment of the wedding Mass! Are we ever disappointed with ourselves--after years of striving to be Little Flowers--at still feeling more like the scrubby weeds found along abandoned railroad tracks? Disappointments come in all sizes--some so big that they seem insurmountable, but others so small and daily that we suf-fer them as the necessary "colds and flu" of our spiritual life. Disappointments come at all stages of life development. Young and old and all the in-betweens face unrealized or shattered dreams, an if-only sense of things left undone, feelings of aban-donment by ones they love. Where does the event of Christ's resurrection touch most directly the practical living of our lives? I would suggest that we need to look towards our experience of disappointments. We test quickly the firmness of our faith in the resurrection by our lived response to disappointment. Among us followers who want to distance ourselves from this hierarchical church or to walk away from a disheartened priesthood or to dismiss a seemingly anachro-nistic religious life or to reject a cumbersome parish structure, we find an identity with the two disciples on their way to Emmaus. The question we face is whether we will take the time from all our talk or activity to listen to and recognize the call to believe what is central to our faith: Jesus is risen, and our response to disap-pointment need never be a time without grace, an experience without new life. The Easter e{r~nt translates into our creedal "I believe in the resurrection of the dead." But the daily disap-pointments that make us die by inches are where we all need to let our resurrection faith have.its effect. As with the two disciples on that first Easter evening, it is in our hurrying back into a dis-appointing Jerusalem--with our faith in the risen Lord--that we truly act as evangelizers arid people on mission. David L. Fleming SJ March-April 1994 165 feature JOHN W. PADBERG In the Midst of the Times: Religious Life and the Ever-Present Experience of the World The reader of these reflections by an historian will have noted at once that their title is a variation on the immediately preceding theological essay by Elizabeth Johnson csj, "Between the Times: Religious Life and the Postmodern Experience of God." That reprise is quite deliberately meant to introduce the reader to the com-plementary. intent of these remarks, in accord with the overall structure of the Religious Life Futures Project. That comprehensive, study of "the future of religious orders in the United States" included six independent ele-ments or "research units" in its work. The first five were a national survey, leadership studies, studies of caring peo-ple and of visioning groups, and a series of individual interviews. The sixth unit was to be a two-part theologi-cal/ historical monograph, of which the first part was to provide a theological framework for interpreting the data gathered in the study and this second part was to be "an historical postscript" or a set of reflections on that theo-logical essay from an historical perspective. John W. Padberg SJ is director of the Institute of Jesuit Sources in St. Louis. This article will be part of a companion book to The Future of Religious Orders in the United States: Transformation and Commitment (Praeger Publishers, 1993) by David J. Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis. His address is Institute of Jesuit Sources; 3700 West Pine Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. 166 Review for Religious The theological essay concludes saying, "For religious life in the United States it is now Advent, the most honest season of all. ¯. What is needed is vigilant patience, profound prayer, and the ability to act boldly toward that future where new forms of evan-gelical life will develop" (Johnson, p. 24).1 This essay will take off from that judgment, which is both correct and important. Advent is a new beginning, but it comes after the conclusion of the year-long liturgical season during which we first await and long for the arrival of Jesus and then in turn remember and cel-ebrate the impossibly good news that he himself is: a hidden life of long duration, the preaching of the good news in person and in word, his seeming defeat in his terrifyingly real passion and death, and then the paschal triumph. We might be tempted to think it is all just a cycle, but then the year goes on beyond the life of Jesus, like an arrow into the future, to tell us that the spreading of that news and the imparting of that life take place in the down-to-earth reality of the post-Pentecostal church which, if we stop to realize it, still lives on as our present church. And then the year begins again with another Advent. The history of the church has recorded many such Advent and subsequent varying seasons. So has the history of religious life in the church. As the theological essay notes, "the evangeli-cal following of Jesus in the church, traditionally called 'religious life,' has been incarnated in a great diversity of forms [which] have consistently emerged from the insights of individuals and groups responding to the Spirit in the crucible of cultural change" (Johnson, p. 7). If it is true that "the only reason for religious life is the experience of God" (Johnson, p. 16), and that such experi-ence is a "postmodern" one "between the times," it is true in another sense that the only way such religious life is lived is "in the midst of the times" and in the context of "the ever-present experience of the world." Hence the complementary title of this essay and the tenor of its remarks. The theological essay suggests that the emerging "under-standing of [religious] life is primarily that of persons and com-munities called to prophetic ministry embedded in a contemplative relationship to God" (Johnson, p. 12). It maintains that beneath changes in structure are changes in attitude and that underlying such changes in attitude is a postmodern experience of God. "Postmodernity is conscious of the end of progress, the limits of reason, the sad isolation of the unconnected individual, and the March-April 1994 167 Padberg ¯ In the Midst of the Times Spiritualities significantly influence the ways in which °religious congregations remain faithful to their original purposes and the ways in which they respond to human need. catastrophe that results when nature is disrespected," while wish-ing to keep from the modern era such goods as "the emphasis on human dignity and human rights and their expressions in liberty and equality. Postmodernity is awake to the egregious failures that the modern ethos has wrought. It wants to go Away-From-Here" (Johnson, p. 18). But meanwhile it is absolutely nec-essary to remember that the "Here" from which postmodernity seeks to escape still mightily influences our cur-rent life. And while the contexts of pre-sent and past are inevitably different, the reactions to past contexts might yield clues as to how we shall react to the pre-sent context. Religious life has of neces-sity existed in several such past contexts of a world changing around it. Often enough that life took on a particular character from the ways in which its members, men and women religious, looked both on change "in the midst of the times" and on the "ever-present experience of the world" around them (to quote again from the title of these present reflec-tions) and from the ways in which they judged both world and change or history. The body of this essay will deal especially with those two matters. It will, firs.t, present several such modern changes in reli-gious life in the midst of changing times, in other words, several examples from history. Secondly, it will reflect more generally on the ways in which religious life responds to change and to the experience of the world, because the nature of those responses characterizes in part the dominant spiritualities which inform either religious life in general or a particular form of that life. Such spiritualities, in turn, significantly influence the ways in which religious congregations remain faithful to their original purposes and the ways in which they respond to human need. As the executive summary of the study concludes, "fidelity to the spirit of the founder and responsiveness to critical and unmet human needs are basic to the original mission of religious com-munities" (Summary, p. 42).2 168 Review for Religious Three Times in the Midst of Change In its fifteen-hundred-year history in the Latin Church of the West, religious life has experienced upheaval more often than is realized. To look only at the modern world, such upheaval has happened in a major way three times in the last four hundred and fifty years: during the time of the Reformation (beginning in 1517), during the time of the French Revolution (beginning in 1789), and in the renewal which was asked for by the Second Vatican Council, which ended in 1965. First, the Reformation. The whole notion of religious life was rejected by the Protestant reformers. This rejection had its foun-dation in their theology, but it gained popular support because religious life had lost much of its credibility. The scandalous rep-utation of many religious congregations and their members-- especially male religious--was all too often deserved. One does not have to read Chaucer (before the Reformation) or Rabelais (dur-ing it) for examples of why that reputation was well deserved. The church documents in those years, calling for reform, are vivid enough. Over and over those calls for reform were made, and over and over again they were ignored. The effects on religious life in the lands of reform were dev-astating. In England men and women religious had already been brutally driven out of their houses. In other countries monks and nuns left their orders in droves. Even in lands that stayed Catholic, the numbers of persons entering religious life dropped drasti-cally. So bad had the reputation of religious life become that more than once during the Catholic reform it was proposed to the Holy See that all but four orders of men, and most orders of women, be suppressed. And yet, in the midst of this seemingly impossible situation, during the Catholic reform new orders and congregations arose, grew in numbers, and flourished. Older orders gradually took themselves in hand, reformed, and prospered. Why? The second major upheaval took place at the time of the French Revolution. While the religious orders in general had been far more faithful to their rule and to the furtherance of the spiritual lives of their members than at the Reformation, still many, even the most active of them, had often lost touch with the changing world around them, a world influenced in many ways by the Enlightenment. The Revolution brought chaos to the church and to religious March-April 1994 169 Padberg * In the Midst of the Times life. Europe was the home of most of the members of the church. It was the place where the administrative structures, the finan-cial resources, the educational establishments, the charitable apos-tolates, the seminaries, the religious congregations had existed for more than fifteen hundred years, all in aid of the preaching of the gospel and the celebration of the sacraments. Quite simply, the Revolution swept away most of these realities upon which the church depended and in which religious life had embodied itself. The properties from which many of the dioceses and orders drew their support were secularized by the new governments and sold to the highest bidder. (For example, Cluny, the acme of Romanesque architecture, the glory of. the Benedictine Order, the second largest church in the Christian world, was destroyed, in part by revolutionary ideology and frenzy but mostly by several good middle-class families who bought it after the state had con-fiscated it and then had it taken down, stone by stone, to be sold for their profit as building material, all in the name of the sanc-tity of private property.) Many of the religious orders were officially abolished in the lands reached by the Revolution; members of almost all of them were turned out of their houses and left to fend for themselves. In 1789, as the French Revolution began, there were some two thou-sand Benedictine establishments in Europe; by 1815 only about twenty were still functioning. In fact, of the many religious orders of men in existence before the French Revolution, only two, the Christian Brothers and the Jesuits, have ever again grown to be as large as they were before the Revolution or larger. And yet, the hundred and fifty years from the Revolution to the beginning of Vatican II were for religious congregations and orders the most unusual years in the history of the church. More new congregations were founded than in any comparable period in the history of the church. More new congregations of women were founded in that century and a half than in the whole previ-ous history of the church. The older orders grew again. More missionary congregations were founded than ever before, and more women and men went to the foreign missions. Why? To turn now to our own histories, and the third upheaval, the Second Vatican Council brought undreamt-of change to the church and to religious life. Many in the church had hoped for change, but no one could have imagined the depth and breadth of the change which did occur. This is not the place to rehearse 170 Revino for Religious those postconciliar events of the past twenty-five to thirty years. The theological essay has well noted many of the changes that took place. Perhaps, however, the quantity and especially the qual-ity of that change can be evoked by recalling ten words or phrases from Vatican II. With the two exceptions of the words "liturgy" and "revelation," none had been common in the church before the council. The other eight are: aggiornamento, collegiality, dia-logue, people of God, inculturation, religious liberty, joy and hope (gaudium et spes), and ecumenism. The realities behind those words raised expectations and produced changes which often have gone beyond either the worst fears of those who wanted no change or the best guesses of those who hoped for it. But whether we now react with dismay, delight, or doubt, many of the details, good, bad, or indifferent, of the world of the church and the world of religious life in the church of thirty to forty years ago have changed irretrievably or even vanished. In and through those changes since Vatican II religious life has been in tur-moil, as it was in the two other great Changes were not introduced from some source external to the church such as the Reformation or the Revolution, but came about internally, from the church itself'at Vatican II. modern upheavals. A very great difference, however, is that these changes were not introduced from some source external to the church such as the Reformation or the Revolution, but came about internally, from the church itself at Vatican II and from what has been truly in its proportions a paradigm shift in the church's self-understanding. The notion of "tranSformation" in the organiza-tional realm, as described in the Religious Life Futures Project, is utterly apt here for what has happened in the~ church. "It refers to qualitative, discontinuous shifts in members' shared under-standings of the organization, accompanied by changes in the organization's mission, strategy, and formal and informa| struc-tures" (Summary, pp. 9-10). In the midst of all this, religious orders and congregations were themselves directly asked by the church to review and revise their own way of life in the light of the council's teachings, in accord with their originating charism, and in adaptation to the March-April1994 1 ~1 Padberg ¯ In the Midst of the Times needs of today. In general, they have taken this request seriously and generously, often at great personal and institutional cost. They, too, have been caught up in the process of transformation. And yet, in this case, the optimistic aftermath of the two ear-lier upheavals has not occurred in the wake of Vatican II. Why? A brief response to the why asked at all three junctures will come later in this essay. The Experience of the World and of History The second major part of this essay will include some reflec-tions on the particular types of spirituality that inform the inner life and the external activities of religious orders. Again, why? Because on such various types of spirituality which inform reli-gious life in general.and specific orders in particular will depend religious life's understanding and judgment of the times in which it lives and of the world which it experiences. "Spirituality" is here understood simply as the way an individual or a group habit-ually acts in learning about and loving and serving God in accord with God's self-revelation in and through God's deeds, especially the greatest of those deeds, Jesus Christ himself. The heuristic structure used here to describe a variety of spir-itualities3 distinguishes four possible ways in which they view the world and history in the midst of a particular time and space by the responses to this question: Does a spirituality.view or not view the world and history as positive means to express itself and to practice a growing relationship to God? "World" includes not only the obvious natural, material world but also human society and institutions. "History" includes especially process, develop-ment and change. In practice, of course, no one of the four resul-tant types of response exists in its absolutely pure state, and obviously in real life they all exist in. particular sociocultural con-texts. In addition, all four types are always intermingled. Perhaps most importantly, each of them is in itself a good. To distinguish them however is, in general, useful for clarity and, in particular, for helping us to see where our contemporary religious life stands and how we might be inclined to move to the future. The first response to world and to history says no to both of them. The second says no to the world and yes to history. The third says yes to the world and no to history, and the fourth says yes to both world and history. 172 Review for Religious Particular examples may clarify these categories. The first response, a spirituality that says no to the world and no to history, might be called an apophatic spirituality, one which comes to a knowledge of God by way of negation. This is the type of spiri-tuality often and somewhat misleadingly known as mystical, for example the kind expressed through such works as The Cloud of Unknowing, or through the works of John of the Cross, or more recently through some of the writings of Thomas Merton. It is important to note that such a spirituality does not necessarily see the world as evil or history and change as meaningless. Rather, such an apophatic spirituality emphasizes that God is beyond any concepts and that the most authentic expression about God is negation of any specific image from world or history. A person goes to the love and knowledge of God through unknowing or through darkness. In our present and our immediate future, in .what the theological essay describes as "the dialectic between divine absence and presence" (Johnson, p. 23) such a spirituality and the postmodern experience of God may increasingly find sup-port in each other. A second type of spirituality finds an expression of the authen-tic not in the world but in history, that is, in change and conver-sion. In saying no to the world but yes to history, it is a prophetic type of spirituality. For example, the Old Testament prophets offer both judgments and interpretations of history. Through his radical poverty, Francis of Assisi said no to the abuse of material wealth that his world of the early 13th century was involved in; in so doing he gave to the poor a sign of hope in a God faithful to his promises. Such a prophetic spirituality is often characterized by living one or more of the gospel values to an extreme. Such a spirituality surely informed the first examples of religious life among the desert fathers and mothers of the Egyptian Thebaid. Other examples of such a prophetic spirituality, in addition to Francis and his poverty, would be early Christians spurning the world and awaiting the call of martyrdom and contemporary Christians motivated by the gospel to practice civil disobedience. Today, as the theological essay puts it, when accepted "forms are breaking down, interpretive support systems, are collapsing, rift~ with the institutional church exacerbate the darkness, [and] many members are in distress" (Johnson, p. 24), we may have a situation in which religious congregations say no to a world that is passing and say yes to a hoped-for change to a more fully gospel-inspired March-April 1994 173 Padberg ¯ In the Midst of the Times future "in the risk that God is faithful in judgment and grace" (Johnson, p. 14). ¯ Third, what might be called a "locational" or a "city of God" spirituality says yes to the world and no to history. But here the When we seek a stable world and way of living in it or when we focus on a particular community or place or on our own hearts, we localize ideal, unchanging circumstances, bringing a changeless "city of God" dimension to our spiritual lives. world may be a world. Th~ authentic is located in one special place, in a world, geographical, psychological, temporal, theological, to the exclusion of other place's, with the changeless-ness that the fulfillment of that king-dom implies; that place then becomes a reflection of the kingdom of God. For St. Benedict it was the monastery as the place in which to live out the Rule. For The Imitation of Christ it is the safety of our own hearts where "you will see the kingdom of God come into your soul." For some it is the familiar church of pre-Vatican II observances. This type of spirituality may be the most common type throughout Christian history. It has also been one of the characteristics of every other type of spirituality and a force for stability in the midst of chaos, It may be an especially inviting and understandable spiri-tuality for those who have just come through a revolution. VChen we seek a stable world and way of living in it or when we focus on a particular community or place or on our own hearts, we are highlighting a way, or place that has worked for us. As a conse-quence we localize ideal, unchanging circumstances, bringing a changeless "city of God" dimension to our spiritual lives. Finally, there is a spirituality which answers yes both to world and tb history. This can be called an apostolic spirituality. To avoid misunderstanding the term and its application to religious life, let it be~ clear that everyone, of course, even in the most con-templative order, is called in some way to apostolic endeavor, to a life committed to the spread of the kingdom of God. But not everyone is necessarily called to an apostolic spirituality, a'spiri-tuality which seeks God primarily through involvement in the world and the transformation of its history. Ideally, such an apos- 174 Review for Religious tolic spirituality sees the world and history as a locus for trans-formation and for self-transformation. Most of the orders and congregations founded since the Reformation, and especially since the beginning of the 19th century, have been inspired by the ideal of an apostolic spirituality. But because the church since the Reformation, the Enlightenment, and the French Revolution has often made quite hostile judgments of the world and of history or change, this is a difficult double stance to maintain. One can easily multiply examples of church mistrust and con-demnation of the world as a source of self-transformation. And even if we have often thought the world could be such a source of self-transformation provided it had a different history or pro-vided we managed to change it, we can easily multiply examples of church mistrust and condemnation of change as a source of self-transformation, especially if it were suggested that change should apply to religious orders and more especially to the church. The way in which to give positive answers to both world and his-tory can vary greatly. Several of the 16th- and 17th-century Catholic reform reli-gious orders of women are examples of an attempt to do so. Mary Ward had a vision of such a spirituality for her Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary and attempted to put it into practice. But the apostolic group, of "that incomparable woman," as Pius XII called her in praise, was forced out of existence by an uncompre-hending Vatican in the 17th century, only to be papally approved in the 19th century. The Sisters of St. Joseph, of the same 17th century, quietly and obscurely flourished, in part because while liv-ing such an apostolic spirituality, they called no widespread atten-tion to it. The members of the Society of Jesus, for the end proposed to them by its founder, Ignatius Loyola, who could "find God in all things," were supposed to find the self-transformation of holiness through an involvement with the world in spreading the ldngdom of God. It was a world that Ignatius and his first companions knew by experience was changing and needed new ways of living and preaching the gospel. But it was very difficult to get across to many of the next gene?ations of Jesuits that both present world and inevitable change were to be taken seriously as part of a Jesuit apostolic spirituality. In its more recent his-tory, the Society of Jesus in its spirituality continues to seek for "the conversion of the individual," but it also wants to help "to transform the world into a fit habitation for justice and human- March-April 1994 175 Padberg ¯ In the Midst of the Times ity." In so choosing a double yes, it recognized the need to take seriously both the world around it and history, process, develop-ment, and change. In the 19th century, when the Society of Jesus was univer-sally restored after the French Revolution, it could not and did not For all of the 19th century, religious, life inclined heavily not to an apostolic spirituality, with a yes both to world and to history, but rather to a locational or "city of God" spirituality, with a yes indeed to the world but with a no to history or change. both the real successes wish to deny the world itself as the locus of its endeavor. It could hardly do so and be authentically Jesuit. But that world was in the midst of great change, and the church and all religious orders, including the Jesuits, were acutely uncomfortable with change and reluctant to respond pos-itively to it. In the midst of a world in which they had never been more active and thought they had an apostolic spiri-tuality, the church and religious orders were not only uncomfortable with that world as they found it, but also often nos-talgic for a past world and in fear of a world changing yet more before their eyes. In such circumstances, for all of the 19th century, religious life inclined heav-ily not to an apostolic spirituality, with a yes both to world and to history, but rather to a locational or "city of God" spirituality, with a yes indeed to the world but with a no to history or change. This fundamental attitude may help to explain and the real failures of the 19th-century structures and activities and spirituality of religious life with which most orders'and congregations lived until Vatican II. More gen-erally it also may help to explain the puzzlement; the ambiguity, even the dismay with which religious life looked around after Vatican II and could not fathom where it stood or how it expressed its relationships with the world and with history. Which one of the four sets of responses to the world and to history best characterizes the spirituality of most religious life today? When the question is put that way, there is not and should not be a single, monolithic answer. Fidelity to the originating charism and "to the spirit of the founder and responsiveness to critical and unmet human needs" imply and indeed mandate both 176 Review for Religious such a diversity in religious congregations and such an overriding purpose that, as a result, each congregation, in order to be true to itself, will have a response particular to itself, a response which at the same time will always look to those needs. There is a yet deeper question. Why answer.at all? Why reli-gious life at all? What was quoted earlier in this essay still remains the fundamental answer: "The only reason for religious life is the experience of God." It is not only in religious life, of course, that a person experiences God, but that fundamental experience, how-ever dark or bright, however tumultuous or serene, however unin-terrupted or intermittent, has to anchor our experience of the world in the midst of time and our responses to the world and to history or change. The Response to Need Let us return now to the three points at which the question why was raised, the three times in the modern world at which religious life experienced major change in church and world and thus also in itself. Just as at the beginning of religious life in the Egyptian desert and through its earlier centuries, so also, in the post-Reformation church and the post-Revolution church, reli-gious life was a response to a need. For the monks and nuns of the desert, it was a need to live out the gospel and to follow the Lord more faithfully than they thought they could in a society in which the Constantinian church and empire had made peace and had come to rely on each other. In the counter-Reformation century, religious congregations, of direct apostolic service especially, arose in response to the Catholic revival that emphasized a renewed preaching of the gospel (hence congregations for urban retreats and country missions); works of charity (hence religious commu-nities that worked in orphanages and hospitals and prisons); the centrality of the sacraments (hence congregations devoted to urg-ing the reception of confession and Communion); the outward expansion of the gospel to newly discovered worlds (hence for-eign- mission congregations)~ and Christian education (hence con-gregations that took on schools and colleges and seminaries and the publishing of pious books and pamphlets and tracts of all kinds). "Active" religious congregations, both new ones and reformed and revitalized ones, arose in response to specific needs, religious and secular, of church and civic community. As for the March-/ltrri11994 177 Padberg * In the Midst of the Times more cloistered or so-called "contemplative" orders, while they did indeed grow, growth was much slower and reform of the inter-nal life of the community was more the norm. When one asks why the apostolic-service orders grew so dra- When one asks why the apostolic-service orders grew so dramatically in the 19th century, response-to-need again seems the fundamental answer. matically in the 19th century, response-to-need again seems the fundamental answer. In Europe a shattered institutional structure had to be rebuilt. Many of the old and formerly religious educational and social institutions had been confiscated by the state, which was often at least determinedly secularist and often actively anticlerical. The second great wave of European colonial expansion into Asia and Africa took place, with the consequent open-ing of mission fields. Meanwhile the church in the persons of its highest officials and of .most of its members was determinedly con-servative and often actively hostile to the polit-ical, social, c~altural, and intellectual currents of the age. Frequently, then, European Catholics thought that only institutions parallel to but indepen-dent of the state would "protect the faith." To respond to those needs as thus perceived, new religious congregations arose locally, regionally, and nationally. Their founders and their members had maps, the almost unchanged Tridentine rules and regulations, expressed and implied and still unquestioned, of church and reli-gious life. They had the experience of present but traditional unmet needs. They responded, generously and heroically, within the boundaries of that map. They had little imaginative ability to see unmet needs that were new. But neither did the church, for example, in the case of the socially unjust consequences of the Industrial Revolution. In the,United States of the 19th century, the circumstances were somewhat the same, somewhat different, The rules and reg-ulations of religious life were the same as in Europe, but the insti-tutions of Catholic life had to be built up from the beginning, and, as the century went on, the building had to take place right in the midst of an immigrant flood of poor, uneducated Catholics coming into a vastly different and somewhat hostile environment: Here, too, the need seemed to be for institutions to protect the faith of the immigrants and to introduce them into American 178 Revie'w for Religious society. To respond to those needs, here, too, new apostolic or "active" congregations arose and old ones established branches in the United States. They too had the same maps; they knew from experience that those maps had to be modified, simultane-ously felt guilty when they did so, and were often unable to offer to Rome a theoretical basis for the changes. While apt at devis-ing new strategies in traditional apostolates, those congregations, too, lacked the imaginative ability to see unmet needs that were new, for example, in the case of the black population and the unjust institutions of slavery and then of segregation. But at least through the 19th century and up to the end of World War II and the assimilation of the Catholic population into the economic and social mainstream of American society, the active religious congregations responded visibly and successfully to the immedi-ate educational, social, and economic needs of American Catholics. At the third major upheaval in religious life, the one follow-ing Vatican II, religious were called on not, of course, to tear up the old maps and discard them, but surely to revise them thor-oughly in the light of:the council's teaching. But such revision is not a short-term, easily~done task. Religious life in the United States is still at it and, from an historian's point of view, has not been at it very long yet, not even quite a full human generation. For Americans, used to quick results, this seems both intolerable and discouraging. And the analogy of map ~revision can only be partial, since not simply documents but also attitudes, insights, and patterns of practice enter into such a revision. As for experience, the theological essay describes well the "social, economic, and political forces at work in the culture of the United States [as] contributing to changes in religious life" (Johnson, p. 10). All of those forces, even those least direcdy con-nected with the church or religious life, have been part of the context of our experience of that life since Vatican II. They have modified both our reading of the maps of the past from which we came and our tentative responses to the present. The imagi-nation to see how to put those experiences to positive use in con-temporary religious life is still in short supply. What we need most is the imagination to conceive of what we want that future to be. ' March-April 1994 179 Padberg ¯ In the Midst of the Times Something is going to happen to religious life in the United States over the next ten years. What will it be? Future History as a Conclusion An historian is really not a prophet in any of the usual dic-tionary meanings of that word. He or she neither "utters divinely inspired revelations" nor is "gifted with more than ordinary spir-itual and moral insight" nor "foretells future events" nor necessarily is "an effective and lead-ing spokesperson for a cause, doctrine, or group." But near the conclusion of these reflec-tions, an historian might urge on the readers of this essay an exercise sometimes called "future history," an exercise within which one can think about the future with realism and imagination. Briefly, taken literally, the exercise asks present participants in an activity or institution to write here and now but as if from a particular point in the future at least part of the history of what "has" happened in order to get to that future. It thereby requires the participants to imagine what might have happened and to select those things which they think most likely to happen to bring about that imagined future. The purpose, quite frankly, is to provoke people to turn their minds to the future decade. Something is going to happen to religious life in the United States over the next ten years. What will it be? That exercise in future history begins by looking back from the year 2005. What will have happened to religious life in the United States? For example, imagine the community of which you are a part enjoying in the year 2005 a successful existence in the service of the gospel, the church, and the human community. What characteristics describe that success? How did the com-munity achieve that success? Most importantly, what five impor-tant decisions were made by the community in 1994 to 1999, the first five of those years, to make it the success it now is in 2005? On what five things in those five years did you and your com-munity and the ministry you work in and your coworkers come to a consensus which contributed to making your community, its inner life and its exterior works, the success that it is in 2005? The future is in the present in such decisions. This framework for imagining and planning can bring us quickly to concrete details and can gently force us to face up to what we think realistically possible. 180 Review for Religious Where does one start in developing.such a future history? Perhaps with three questions: First, how would I describe to myself what I think my religious congregation fundamentally is? Second, what are the absolutely essential characteristics of its reli-gious community life? Third, what are the absolutely essential characteristics that any work it undertakes should have, be that work contemplative prayer or civic networking or anything in between? With the best answers in hand that we can presently give to those questions, derived from our present experience of the world in the midst of the times in which we live as religious, we might go on to imagine what ideally we want to be in 2005 and to plan what practically we can do to achieve that goal. Neither an historian nor anyone else could have predicted what as a matter of fact did come after the original Advent. What did take place in the coming of Jesus was a deed that was faithful to God's original purpose and to the origins of our salvation in the fulfillment of God's promises. It was an experience of God between the times, surely thus a postmodern experience in that it broke out of all past and present categories, and also a deed that con-tinues to be active even in the midst of times in the presence of the Holy Spirit in a world still "charged with the grandeur of God." That post-Advent deed and its consequences are the foundation for the yet unimagined post-Pentecost future of religious life. Notes ' Page numbers refer to Elizabeth A. Johnson CSJ, "Between the Times: Religious Life and the Postmodern Experience of God," as pub-lished in Review for Religious 53, no. 1 (January-February 1994): 6-28; hereafter Johnson. 2 Quotations from the Executive Summary of the study will refer to the text in Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6- 55; hereafter Summary. 3This structure is taken from an article by E. Edward Kinerk SJ, "Toward a Method for the Study of Spirituality," Review for Religious 40, no. 1 (January 1981): 3-19. March-April 1994 181 DAVID MARIA KNIGHT Vowed Witness in a Church Intent on Love commitments I spent several years in the confused and glorious hey-day after Vatican II writing and speaking on the goal and value of the re.ligious vows. Inspired by the theology of Karl Rahner, I presented them, in a nutshell, as the "real-symbolic expressing (and therefore experience) of response to the transcendent call of grace." In English this meant that each vow was a way of realizing, of "making real," both to ourselves and to others, the truth of the faith, the hope, the love we were giving to Jesus Christ and his gospel. Poverty is a "real-symbolic" expression of the fact that we have set our hopes for fulfillment and security not on material possessions, but on the riches of the kingdom. Real poverty, voluntarily embraced, is a way of saying we really hope in God's promises, we really place our trust in God. Celibacy is an expression "in the flesh" of our belief that anyone who accepts "the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ" can have with God, now, on this earth, a rela-tionship of love as real as marriage, as satisfying as mar-riage, and as developmental of us as loving persons as the most ideal marriage could be. One does not have to be a celibate to be in spousal relationship with Christ--it is implicit in our baptismal consecration as "brides in the David Maria Knight is a priest of the Memphis diocese. He is a well-known author and speaker. His address is Sacred Heart Church; 1324 Jefferson; Memphis, Tennessee 38104. 182 Revie.w for Religious Bride" who is the church--but the commitment to voluntary celibacy is one way to realize, to make real in flesh and blood and action, the truth of this relationship that our faith tells us about and to experience interiorly the passionate intensity of the love we are giving to God in Jesus Christ. The vow of obedience is a real way of expressing our faith in the active presence of Jesus in the church as true head of his Body on earth, and an expression of confidence that he is able to use us and will use us effectively for the work of the kingdom through the government of those who speak for him with authority in his Body. This was new. It was a departure from the traditional way of explaining the vows as means for overcoming attachment to pos-sessions, desire for sexual pleasure, and pride. The new Catechism of the Catholic Church, although it takes a much more inspiring and positive approach to religious life elsewhere, still describes the "evangelical counsels" as "having as their goal the removal of any-thing which., could be an obstacle to the development of char-ity" (no. 1973). I believe that even if nothing within us were an obstacle to the "perfection of charity" the vows would still be inestimably desirable as passionate expressions, in flesh and blood, of the reality of ourfaith, our hope, our love for God in Jesu~s Christ. Their primary value is not in what they remove, but in what they give: the deep, personal awareness (and witness in the church) of relating to God in passionate faith, hope, and love. I find myself now, however, immersed in lay spirituality. As pastor of a parish--a position I requested precisely to "field test" a plan for.spiritual growth in parishes which I have been devel-oping for ten or fifteen years-- I am fc~cused on preaching and teaching the spirituality of the laity as they are defined in Vatican II (a definition which distinguishes the secular laity from lay reli-gious): those who "live in the world; that is, in each and all of the secular professions and occupations [and who] live in the ordi-nary circumstances of family and social life, from which the very web of their existence is woven." Vatican II not only makes clear, but assumes it is "evident to everyone," that "all the faithful of Christ, of whatever rank or status, are called to the fullness of the Christian life and to the per-fection of charity." This, I believe, is the key to all the aftermath of Vatican II. Pastoral ministry has had to refocus.The goal of parish life is no longer to provide the laity with those services they need March-April 1994 183 Knight ¯ Vowed Witness in a Church Intent on Love to "save their souls." It is to lead the laity, all of them, closer to the "perfection of love." Parish ministry has changed from store keeping to intensive marketing, from a "maintenance spiritual-ity" to a spirituality of growth. Gone are the days when parishes Religious have the personal experience of committing themselves to total response to the gospel and have training and practice in living it which should make them the natural "coaches" for the laity. existed just to provide a preordained set of services, and the only stress on the priest was concern about providing them well. Now every parish is, or should be, a center fomenting desire for "the fullness of the Christian life" in all of its members and pro-viding the motivation, instruction, and sup-port necessary to keep every member growing toward the "perfection of charity." Now every pastor faces the challenge of dis-covering how to do this. And it is not easy; the paths a whole parish can follow to greener pastures are neither familiar nor well -worn. But the goal is clear: parishes exist to support that kind of living in their members which makes the life of every single one of them a "way of perfection"--a term we used to reserve for the vowed life of religious. The life of every Christian should be avis-ible, lived-out response to the first of all commandments: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your strength, with all your mind." Jesus' words "If you would be perfect." are addressed to all. To every one of his followers he says, "Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect., strive first for the king-dom of God." How does religious life fit into all of this? There are some obvious answers we need not dwell on, because they should be evident to everyone: Religious have the personal experience of committing themselves to total response to the gospe.1 and have training and practice in living it which should make them the natural "coaches" for the laity as the whole church turns toward this goal. Also, the "fullness of the Christian life" includes involvement in ministry, which is explicit in our bap-tismal commitment. There is no question about the fact that reli-gious, the majority of whom are nonordained women, are the most experienced and effective "lay ministers," taken as a body, that the church has ever known. In the historical context of what 184 Review for Religious is and not only in the abstract context of what theoretically ought to be, it is still true to say, "If you want it done, get a nun!" But there is another way in which religious life fits into this picture of the "new church" striving en masse for perfection, and I think it is something which must be recognized if the conversion of every Christian way of life into a way of perfection is going to succeed. Religious are examples and models of that dramatic ges-ture which is a key element in launching anyone into passionate relationship with God. When Jesus said to the young man in Matthew's Gospel, "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor. ," he was giving, not a command and not a "counsel," but an example. The young man came out of a legal-istic tradition. Jesus acknowledged this in the beginning by meet-ing him on his own ground and saying, "If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments." The young man was still thinking legalistically when he said, "Which ones?" so Jesus gave him a list. But when the boy said, "I have kept all these; what do I still lack?" and showed that there was something in him impelling him beyond a religion of law observance, Jesus recognized in him a kindred soul, someone who could learn what he came to teach. Then Jesus said (and now I am paraphrasing), "Well, if you want to live by my 'new way'--if you want to be perfect, to 'live life to the full'--here is something you can do to start with which will show that you understand what it is all about. Go, sell everything you have, and give the money to the poor. Then you can come and follow me." What Jesus was calling for was a dramatic gesture--something that would catapult the young man into another orbit of response to God. He may have been thinking explicitly of the gesture Elisha made when Elijah the prophet called him to be his successor: Elijah set out, and came upon Elisha, son of Shaphat, as he was plowing with twelve yoke of oxen; he was following the twelfth. Elijah went over to him and threw his cloak over him. Elisha left the oxen, ran after Elijah, and said, "Please, let me kiss my father and mother good-bye, and I will fol-low you." "Go back!" Elijah answered. "Have I done any-thing to you?" Elisha left him and, taking the yoke of oxen, slaughtered them; he used the plowing equipment for fuel to boil their flesh, and gave it to his people to eat. Then he left and followed Elijah as his attendant (1 K 19:19-21). March-April 1994 185 Knight * Vowed Witness in a Church Intent on Love Jesus asks all, takes all, is worth all. Why did not Elisha just have one of his workers lead the oxen back to the barn and put up the equipment while he left with Elijah? The answer is obvious: After what he had said to Elijah and Elijah to him, Elisha felt the need to make a dramatic gesture, just to show how willing he was to leave everything immediately and give himself to the service of God. This gesture was necessary, not only to win Elijah's confidence, but so that Elisha himself would know, without any shadow of doubt, that he was sweeping everything out of his heart in undivided dedication to what he was called to do. What Jesus said to the rich young man about "selling everything" was just one example of the kind of dramatic gesture which would show that the man understood, before he started to follow Jesus, what the terms of discipleship would be. In a nutshell, Jesus asks all, takes all, is worth all. What he offers is the "pearl of great price" and the "treasure hidden in a field" for which we must be willing to sell every other pearl, even everything we own. What he said to this young man was no dif-ferent from what he said in several places elsewhere. And essentially what Jesus tells the young man is the same thing he proclaims to all when he says, "whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple" (see the whole of this passage, Luke 14:2 5-3 3). Another translation miti-gates for modern ears the Hebrew starkness of "hate fath+r and mother" by making it "turn your back on father and mother." This puts the interior attitude into the form of a dramatic gesture again, but the meaning is the same: "Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. And if you want to know you do not love father or mothei" more than me, make a dramatic gesture that proves it." Jesus could just as well have told the young man, "If you want to embrace my way, show it by leaving home; abandon your father and mother!" Or he could have used the example Matthew cites right before this and said, "Go make yourself a eunuch for the sake of the kingdom; that will prove you are taking me seriously!" Jesus is a teacher; he.is trying to make a point. It is of no concern to him whether his followers are rich or poor, married or celi-bate, living with their parents or missioned a thousand miles away 186 Review for Religdous from them. They can be living the "perfection of charity" in any of these situations. What Jesus is saying Ks that anyone who authentically follows him must be, in fact, total and undivided in love for God, or at least be consciously committed to such total and undi-vided love. And it is characteristic of human beings that we do not really know what is in our hearts until we express what is in them externally. As 'Karl Rahner puts it, "We do not know that we really believe in the two birds in the bush until we let go of the one bird in the hand." We cannot know that our treasure is in heaven unless in some way we renounce the treasure we have stored up on earth. And if we want to know that we really believe in the invis-ible God in our heart, one effective though rad-ical way to discover it is to give up the visible man or woman in our arms. To launch ourselves into a "way of perfection," we need to make some dramatic, radical gesture which says to us and to others from the outset that we are for real. This is what religious know, what they have experienced, and what the centuries-old tradition of religious life has demonstrated: To launch ourselves into a "way of perfection," we need to make some dramatic, radical gesture which says to us and to others from the outset that we are for real. Jesus Christ is not real to us until we take him for real. And to give up things which are very, very real to us, such as money, marriage, and independence, is a very powerful, passionate way to take him for real. It is authen-tic, it is legitimate, and it works. In the "new" church, which is consciously oriented toward the "perfection of love" as the go.al of every Christian's way of life, religious have the role of witnessing to the need and to the efficacy of expressing dramatically one's commitment to this love. Religious need to understand their vows as the dramatic expres-sion of their own intention to live single-mindedly--in "purity of heart"--in total, passionate, undivided love for God. The vows are a dramatic gesture, but a real one, like that of the bride strip-ping herself for the bridegroom. They are a gesture given daily-- every day, all day--as the expression of enduring, faithfully passionate love. The purpose of the vows is to focus our hearts on the person of Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ offers himself daily in the dramatic gesture of March-April 1994 187 Knight ¯ Vowed Witness in a Church Intent on Love the Eucharist--"This is my body, given up for you." He asks us to open ourselves physically to him, to receive him into our bodies in the dramatic gesture of Communion which pledges us to be one with him in heart and mind and soul, in the living of our lives and in the offering of our lives together with him, the Lamb of God, for the life of the world. Religious have understood for centuries the significance of this language of love. Whatever else they did or did not do, religious, whenever it was humanly pos-sible, participated in the eucharistic celebration daily. Those men and women who daily lived their lives in love, who daily gave expression through their vows to their passionate intention of loving the Lord their God with their whole heart, whole strength, whole minds, grasped without need of explanation the appropri-ateness of joining themselves to Jesus Christ in the passionate daily expression of his love in the Eucharist. Sometimes people ask, "Why is there no sacramental conse-cration to religious life as there is to marriage and priesthood?" Perhaps an answer is that religious ire not consecrated to a par-ticular function in the church the way priests and married people are; their function as religious is that of all the baptized: to bear witness to Jesus Christ and his gospel in the total, passionate, daily oblation of themselves. But religious, by their particular and different way of life~ do this in an explicitly recognizable way. Religious life, when it is authentically lived, is a visible, convinc-ing sign (as martyrdom is) that total dedication to Jesus Christ is possible, that the grace of undivided love is present and active in the church. Sacraments are "visible signs instituted by Jesus Christ to give grace." Perhaps we can say that religious life is "grace made visible in a total commitment to Jesus Christ that is a sign," In this case the sacramental expression of religious life--as of every Christian life which actually aims at the "perfection of love"--is the eucharistic celebration. Religious, who have .been called to make their lives a dramatic gesture of love, celebrate the meaning of their vocation when they join themselves to the dramatic expression Jesus gives to his passion, to his passionate love, every day in the Mass. 188 Review for Religious THERESA MANCUSO Quest for an Undivided Heart On a dark autumn night in Far Rockaway, the rough Atlantic lurches and rolls up the sand. The tide is coming in. Foamy waves crash along the shore, filling rocky crevices with a salty spray, dislodging, sometimes, the fearless gulls that perch precariously on the jetty's edge waiting for their prey, regardless of season, regardless of cold. High up on a boulder overlooking the surf, I perch myself, silent in the coming night, watchful as my three German Shepherd dogs dart back and forth into the water playing tag along the beach. A ripe harvest moon hovers above, the only source of light as the gathering darkness wraps the shore in stillness. Alone now except for the roaring sea,which seems alive in its noisy motion, we are sandwiched here between heaven and earth, time and eter-nity. It is a good place to think, a great place to pray. In this deserted cathedral of earth and sky and sea, I often find renewal for my soul. Solitude, silence, and surrender calm and soothe when I am lonely or afraid or when, perchance, I have momen-tarily lost sight of the vision that impels me. Many-splendored master that it is, the sea is both healer and challenger and the everlasting Face of the Deep is forever a reminder of human lone-liness, longing for God. Many years ago in the romanticism of adolescence, like many others, I was drawn and fascinated by the ideals of religious life and led to embark on a spiritual journey on which celibacy, con- Theresa Mancuso's article "Prayer, Memories, and God" was published in our July-August 1993 issue. She'lives at 448 Seventh Avenue; Brooklyn, New York 11215. March-April 1994 189 Mancuso ¯ Quest for an Undivided Heart secrated chastity, was considered the pearl of great price. For the crown of Sponsa Christi, the young religious was inspired to sac-rifice the heart, forgetful of every, human longing--not knowing for sure all it entailed. To the precious star of chastity we set our sails so long ago and far away, willing to journey through the per-ilous waters of life, armed only with faith and emboldened by the little we knew or understood about reality or ourselves. Maturity was far off, then, as we took ,.the golden chalice of chastity with both our hands, intent on draining it to the dregs. Time folded round about us like the arms of the sea as decade by decade we were washed in the flood of human experience from which there is no return. There is a solitude and silence deep in the heart of conse-crated celibacy, a surrender that echoes in the still point of the soul. Despite the changes time inscribes on the idealism of youth, it is a refreshing experience to meet today's consecrated virgins, men and women of various ages for whom religious chastity has never lost its meaning. Of their lives and their experiences, let us take note. The consecrated virgin is rather little understood and even less appreciated in the modern world. Nevertheless, religious chastity is still the sign and seal of the kingdom of God among us. We try not to forget where we came from or where we are going. There is something indelibly written in the human heart by the vow of chastity. Regardless of all the changing cultural mores in the world about us, regardless, too, of our own restless hearts, the unspeakable beauty of this vow is bound up to the essential integrity it sustains, the quest and achievement of an undivided heart. When those of us who vowed our lives to consecrated chastity long ago and far away confront the reality of today, who we are and what we. have become, deep questions await us. Have we emerged through the years with undivided hearts? Have we found the pearl of great price? Has chastity given us power to love all God's chil-dren, to nurture the world in the spirit of faith, to sustain great and noble friendships without losing the balance of a virginal heart? Is celibacy still our pearl of great price, or has it become an embarrassment to us in a world of sexual adventure,., excess, and casual alliances? Doe's chastity still shine within us with the light of happiness that shone in the promises of youth, or is our love for 190 Review for Reli~ous the celibate ideal so damaged by time and tarnished by temptation that it is long forgotten, pushed to the back of our mind as if, indeed, we had never given ourselves to God? Have we grown tired of trying? Have we lost our precious pearl? The.monk (monachos) or nun (monache) stands in the breach of the universe, a marginal person, monos-- alone. In that desert there is solitude, silence, and surrender, but there is also tenderness, joy, freedom, and peace, the gifts of the Spirit and the happiness of an undivided heart. To be alone with God in the vastness of time is sometimes frightening. We came to religious life burning with desire for union with God. The spiritual goals of enlighten-ment and self-giving called us to surrender our entire existence, everything,, right down to the deepest longings in the human heart. How shall we know if the promise has been fulfilled within us? Eschewing too much analysis, it is not with-out merit to examine ourselves with regard to chastity, for what we paid the greatest price for shall indeed be our sweetest con-solation. The reality of celibacy takes us into solitude, not once and for all, but over and over again. Every time we face the silent stillness of an unencumbered life, we recognize the act of sur-render (for there is really no other alternative), an act that leads time and time again straight to the heart of God. Along this way the saints have gone, and we may follow. Monks and nuns are not alone in celebrating the joy of the undivided heart. Many others, to be sure, in the world about us, have sacrificed sexual expression for the love of God, the practice of intensified religious living, the service of others, and the deepening freedom of the human spirit. Why be celibate in a world exploding with sexuality? Why be chaste in a society glutted by sensual allurement? Why refrain from instant and immediate gratification? The promise of chastity remains today what it has always been, an uninterrupted, pro-foundly unifying discipline of the heart, a calming of emotion. Apatheia. Passionlessness. The emptying of explosive divisive attachment. Our long journey-to God is a quest for an undivided The reality of celibacy takes us into Solitude, not once and for all, but over and over again. March-April 1994 191 Mancuso ¯ Quest for an Undivided Heart Chastity for the kingdom of God shines beside marital chastity as a vocation complete and magnificent in itself. heart, stripped of attachment to all that is not he. Kenosis. Emptying. But we do not strive to abandon passion in order to be phlegmatic zombies. We do not strive to over-come attachment so that we can be cold, mechanical people, devoid of love. Instead, chastity is the baptism of all our feelings, all our emotions, the freeing of all the power within us, zest for life, creative energy. Chastity is the focus of our vision on God,or it is nothing. Celibacy asks its practitioner to pour out its most intimate being, not into the void, but into the Total Ultimate that is God. Chastity calls for continual repentance, continual surrender. Metanoia. Change of heart. The surrender of sexual distraction and satisfaction removes from a human being those concerns about intimacy that. often eat up the larger portion of human consciousness and creative preconsciousness. The heart that is focused on God is empowered to love and embrace the entire world, not for self-satisfaction, but with gen-uine and authentic interest and care. Our consecrated celibacy should make us more loving, more caring, more gentle and tender, compassionate and kind. That is the reality of an undivided heart. To be all things to all for the love of God, unselfishly, with purity of heart--that is the joy of chastity, the empowerment of the virgin. When today the world scoffs at virginity, it acts and reacts without understanding or knowledge of what it truly is. Our quest for an undivided heart is not futile, not wasted. It is the journey of courage that takes us into the fullness of God's abiding presence, more and more revealed to us proportionately as we lay aside all that is not God. The whole point of celibacy is union with God, nothing more and nothing less. Chastity is free-dom from the pursuit of pleasure and popularity, freedom from encrustations of endless self-adornment for the sake of vanity or "sex appeal," freedom from uncontrolled emotion and undisci-plined desire--indeed, freedom from self in areas where self may be the worst enemy. We do not posit'the beauty of consecrated chastity over against marital chastity, but beside it, its sister state. Chastity for the kingdom of God shines beside marital chastity as a vocation 192 Review.for Religious complete and magnificent in itself. Monos, alone. The splendor of the celibate heart is not servile frigidity nor some holier-than-thou imagined adornment of the soul. The consecrated virgin is not opposed to the married; the virgin lives as ultimate marriage of the spirit. The splendor of celibacy is the quickening of abil-ity to embrace the world unselfishly and bring God's love back into it. By surrendering one's right to nurture one's own offspring, one is free to take the children of humanity into one's deepest embrace and to love and serve them forever. Celibacy is a font of energy in the undivided heart, a direEting of the life force to the Life Giver. We need never be ashamed for having made this choice--indeed, for having been chosen for it. Most religious have tasted the price of celibacy. Many have traveled far from the safety of religious communities in which the vows were made, those havens where temptation was kept very much at bay. Unexpqsed and untested, we thought ourselves pure. Later, mind and heart were tested by the real world. The promise of celibacy is far deeper than all the dreams 'and aspira-tions of our youth. Life has a way of sweeping away illusion. One by one we find ourselves devoid of excuses, alone in the wilder-ness wfiere we must do battle against the pull of desire. But God teaches us quietly with relentless compassion until we understand the vigorous truth of what it is all about. And then the years are gone. Single-mindedness in the undivided heart bears fruit in quiet happiness. One finds, after all, that God is always with us, his love underpinning everything we are, everything we do. All earthly delights pale beside the effulgence of God reveal-ing himself to those who seek him with a pure heart. Immersed in him completely, we are given a new ability to focus on the things that really matter. Nor should we think of celibacy as just a physical state. It is more a state of mind, a field of completion for the soul, a refin-ing instrument that fine-tunes emotion. Chastity with diligent constancy chips and chisels all the corners of the human heart. It makes us who we are, but slowly, slow. We are forever becom-ing. As the sea chips and chisels the shore, so does celibacy remove the dross of selfishness as it refines the heart. Not without pain. Not without suffering. But, most importantly, not without joy. I watch a gull swoop down into the waves, taking his catch from the sea. The small fish is caught, devoured, by the power-ful beak of the gull, for this is nature's way. Then the lonely sea March-April.1994 193 Mancuso ¯ Quest for an Undivided Heart Our quest for an undivided heart seems to take a whole lifetime. gull flies up out of the wave and is lost to sight in the evening sky. It reminds me that I, too, fly alone over the'ocean of life, single in the world, without a mate, for one great purpose, God. The gull and I are one for this single fleeting moment as the night steals on and the only sound in the darkness is the song of the sea. Two beings in the universe, separate and complete, starkly alone. Somehow in thavfleeting moment I come to understand why I choose .celibacy. All the props have disappeared since the day on which I promised chastity to God. It is very different now, the life I am leading, Those who inspired me have vanished from the earth in the sweet embrace of death or are far away from me. Our destinies, once so closely entwined, grew separate through the years. The whole world has changed, but the heart remains the same. Over time we face our dragons, such as they are. There is no exemption. Life batters the foundations on which religious vows are built. Suffering and sin touch everyone. The best we can do is to keep on choosing God first, for he has chosen us. To keep on choosing God is to celebrate the vow of celibacy for the love of God and for no other reason. To keep one's eye on the goal is to remain in an undivided heart. All along the way we just keep fac-ing ourselves, as we are, for better or for worse. Staggering truths reveal themselves, but they do not come home to us all at once. As the years unfold, bit by bit we uncover the truths of who and what we really are. Life insists that we go beyond the images, far beyond our misconceptions and imaginings. Sometimes it is a painful, searing journey. Our quest for an undivided heart seems to take a whole lifetime. It was not the work of the novitiate nor completed in the ceremony of vow day. The richness of the vowed life dawns slowly a long way down the road from where we started. As the moon rises higher in the sky over Rockaway, the dark-ness fills with a luminous aura. The sea quiets down as the tide rests inland. The dogs hunker down beside me, digging deep cav-erns in the sand to lie down in. Questions of celibacy have long challenged me, not just tonight, but many nights for more than a quarter of a century. Now, in this luminous nightfall on the shore, all inne~ rhythms find themselves attuned to the sand and sea and sky. One with the universe for a single moment, the burdens of a 194 Revie~ for Religious lifetime fall silently into the waves. Configured in stark simplic-ity, it suddenly makes sense, lt's all about an undivided heart. I did not notice the stars coming out slowly in the black dome of sky as the evening wore on. They twinkle now light years away, far above me. There they are just as they have always been. But I didn't notice them, not until now. Only now do I see them clearly, a starry quilt across the heavens wrapping land and sea in the blanket of their glory. The whole point and purpose of religious chastity seems suddenly at last so clear, so complete. The quest for an undivided heart. Through it we are called to create an interior environment free from the remnants of undisciplined love, unrea-sonable attachment, self-centered emotionalism, and the display of ego. Celibacy re~noves distraction from the undivided heart. One consecrated to celibacy still stands in this troubled world as a sign of the kingdom of God as the stars stand from age to age, forever. Gathering my things, I descend the rocks and leave the beach, dogs at my side. The stars are twinkling high above and the sea's roar is silent. Everything is still as the fullness of nighttime falls. The burden of loneliness is gone; commotions of the mind are silent. With renewed conviction I head for home, focused, for a while at least, on the pearl of great price that once was mine and calls me still to the undivided heart that finds its all in God. Vocation Poets and prophets Are born to bleed And orily lesser ones weep. To have heard and held in hollow heart a word Seared lips al~ne may speak Is glory enough--is glory indeed! Janet Benish March-April 1994 195 BRIAN C. YATES Imaged Celibacy: A Reflection for Priests This reflection on celibacy considers the imagination in e life of a celibate. To put the theme bluntly: Do I see and imagine myself as a celibate? Do I see my celibate self as a lov-ing and lovable man? The apostolic exhortation "I Will Give You Shepherds" (Pastores dabo vobis, 7 April 1992) says, "The gift of self, which is the source and synthesis of pastoral charity, is directed to the church" (§23). My query is this: Is the self that comes to mind in these questions and in this statement my real and true self, or is it in practice my false self?. My false self--using Thomas Merton's distinction--is what may be described as my mask, my shadow, my empirical self, the self I develop in my own likeness rather than in the likeness of God. I develop the false self to cope with the trials of life; it is the self I project and display to the outer world of people and experience. The true self, on the other hand, is that deeper new reality which lies hidden within me as the image of God, the word of God that I am, the new man described by St. Paul. To paraphrase Merton, the real I is simply one's self and nothing more, one's self as it is in the eyes of God. First, then, do I as a celibate try to work at making my false self celibate? Do I attempt to accomplish the task of making who I think I ought to be celibate? Such an approach is all of my own doing--granted all the goodwill in the world--and is prone to utter frustration. Why? Because celibacy needs to be linked not to Brian C. Yates, a diocesan priest, writes for us from Galilee House; 60B Blair Street; Bondi, N.S.W. 2026; Australia. 196 Review for Religious the false, unreal, pretended self, but rather to the real self. I am firmly of the opinion that many of us celibates have tried to make our false selves celibate. It is, however, only when we get in touch with our real selves by honest and true self-knowledge and awareness that we accept ourselves as created by God in his own image and likeness. We then accept the word of God that each of us is. Only when we discover our true self and discover the real-ity of God dwelling within us can we admit that our identity rests on our being loved by God who dwells within. By throwing off the hold the false self has on me, I become open to the gifting of the Holy Spirit. The "Come, Holy Spirit" invocation is a cry from the true self, not the false self. Second, do I image myself as a celibate loving and lovable man? I propose that celibacy thrives as a reality in our lives only when our graced active imag-ination never lets us forget that we possess it as a gift of the Spirit of God. In other words, if celibacy is not imaged as a desired gift, it will not continue to be there as a gift or in any other way. The invitation to image is suggested by Jesus' question "What are you looking for?" (Jn 1:38). Men who have been ordained to the priesthood have been so gifted because, over the course of years, they have imaged priesthood and celibacy as the gifts they are. The art of imaging is not fantasy or mental picture making, nor is it a means of escaping reality and life's demands. Rather, it is the way which Providence uses to get us into the real. It is the energy and power of one's mental faculty that operates through the medium of images, symbols, myths, stories, and parables--for example, the kingdom of heaven is like a pearl of great price, a dragnet, a hidden treasure, a festive wedding banquet. Imaging is a way of knowing--it is beyond mere reason and rational thought. When we image, we intuit and we use our feelings, emotions, and memories, without excluding logic and planning. In fact, these latter ingredients prevent us from sinking into mere reverie or daydreaming. The process of imaging has been aptly caught by the saying that "we tend to create what we love." Do I love celibacy? That is the question. The desire, under grace, to image is encouraged by St. Bernard's remark "The desire is the pledge of the fulfillment of the Imaging is a way of knowing-- it is beyond mere reason and rational thought. March-April 1994 197 Yates * Imaged Celibacy The image of celibacy has a life of its own, a life to be subsequently realized in practice. desire" and by Ricoeur's observation that to change behavior we .need to change the image. I propose that celibates will find their lives greatly enhanced by the practice of imaging celibacy. If one does not image celibacy as a gift to the true self, much energy will be exercised on the task of avoiding temptation, of coping, of excessive concern about the quality of interpersonal relationships, of asking "How far can I go?" or expressing one's sexuality in inappropriate ways, of offering up dif-ficulties, of living encumbered by suppression and repression, of merely tolerating the law of celibacy from outside as a technical requirement of ministry. When a man images celibacy as a gift to himself and practices a celibate lifestyle as a loving and lov-able person, he authors his own life as a free disci-ple of the Lord. Freedom and life are the results of such imaging and such practice. The image of celibacy has a life of its own, a life to be subse-quently realized in practice. As long as it stays healthy by being consciously lived, this life of celibacy prevents a takeover by outside factors. On our spiritual journey the passionate energy of imaging is aptly expressed in Luke's preamble to the Last Supper. Jesus' image is proclaimed: "I have greatly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer." This image, this desire, was acted upon by Peter and John: "Go and prepare our Passover for us" (Lk 22:7-16). The imaged desire of Jesus became a reality--it hap-pened. The Beatitude "Blest are the single-hearted for they shall see God" (Mt 5:8) further captures the imaged energy of the celi-bate. This blessed "sight of God" is shown again in the imaged and vigorously implemented desir~ of Zacchaeus to see Jesus. His running out in front and climbing the sycamore tree secured the presence of Jesus in his house that very day (Lk 19:1-10). Annie Dillard, in her story of the Weasel in Teaching a Stone to Talk, writes of "people taking vows of poverty, chastity, and obe-dience by choice. The thing is to stalk your calling., to grasp your one necessity and not let it go." If their vision has become blurred, celibates need to regain appropriate ways of imaging their choice of celibacy--they must stalk their calling. They must do this in conjunction with their own self-knowledge and aware-ness, their conscience and their value system, They must not shun 198 Review Jbr Religious the effort involved in such imaging and such living. They must keep looking in the right direction, in season and out of season: "They shall look on him whom they have pierced" (Jn 19:37). The Sacred Temple You will find your way by the grace of God over the broad dirt road through the merchant mob: the press of children selling holy cards, the pretty, gypsy girls and brown, drunken bards yelling: "No. no plaster., alabastert." as the ocean air fills with rum and laughter rum and laughter Scattering seagulls like failed prayer's fruit in a once quiet place the mob is upon you pushing, tugging, pulling at your jacket with old gum and bloody, sad gods of plastic their playfully wild dogs between your feet looking, whining, growling for something to eat something to eat But, then your senses blur. You are taken into, away, beyond the soul awakens where the bright sweetness of eternal Light consumes that crazy mob of our false delights where the Word of God draws with gentle bands and you know and are known where the birds fly home to the holy land. John Boyd OSB March-April 1994 199 JOANNE MARIE GREER Needed: An Ethic of Memories challenges In my current careei- I teach and supervise religious who are in training as pastoral counselors in M.A. and Ph.D. programs. Personal memories, memories of inter-personal exchhnges and relationships, are very live issues for these trainees, both in their emerging clinical compe-tence and in their own processing of their own pasts. This article is a result of my reflections deriving from my work with the students. Those reflections were crystallized by the following incident. Quite by accident I met Maria, someone who turned out to be a link to my past of almost forty years ago. I found that Maria was a close current friend of Anna, some-one I had known rather well in high school and also been with in the novitiate. I had moved to another part of the country and had not seen Anna since. Further exchanges ensued: "Well, do you know X?" "Did you know Y? . Did you also live under Mother Z, and what did you think of her?" "Did you visit such and such a place?" and so forth. Then my new acquaintance said, "Oh, by the way, my friend Anna is sometimes called [a slightly salacious nickname] within her community. No one will tell me the story behind it." With a moment's reflection on my part, I was able to supply the embar-rassing information, which came from Anna's life around age sixteen, When she and I were schoolmates. Joanne Marie Greer PhD is director of research in the Pastoral Counseling Department of Loyola College; 7135 Minstrel Way, Suite 101; Columbia, Maryland 21045 200 Review for Religious Later I was reporting this incident to Susan, a current-day friend. I had felt troubled by the exchange with Maria about Anna's nickname, but could not put my finger on the reason. I was certainly not jealous of Anna's friendship with Maria. Anna had not been a close friend of mine, and I had not thought of her in years. My friend Susan reproached me for telling the mean-ing of the nickname, saying: "What you remember of Anna does not belong to you. It belongs to you and Anna together. If Anna had wanted her current-day friend to know this about the past, she would have told her herself. Besides, when Maria tells Anna what she knows, Anna will be troubled. She will wonder what else you may tell Maria about the past." I conceded that Susan was right, and felt 'there was some deep wisdom in her comment. I continued thinking about it off and on for several days. I finally concluded that this apparition from my past had caused me to momentarily regress in my judgment in a way which I still regret. But it may be useful to describe how I reached this conclusion. In this way my medium--this article--becomes part of my message, that memory is a volatile and indeterminate thing. As a psychoanalyst I have learned the professional discipline of analyzing my own thoughts carefully whenever I feel troubled, lest my lurking disturbance throw me off balance in my clinical work. Initially I set out to trace my own free associations to the exchange about Anna's nickname and to Susan's subsequent reproach. The first thing I recalled was working in the novitiate of my order, and the secrets I had painfully held within. I then moved on to the memory of seeing the pain of the novice mistress when it got back to her what gossipy and critical-things the departed trainees had said about her to their relatives and friends. I had found the novice mistress a very difficult work supervisor, and I understood the diffuse anger of the disappointed, disaffiliated postulants and novices. I resolved, however, that if I ever left the order (as I afterwards did) I would keep its dirty laundry to myself. I simply did not want to cause such pain, and I cut off all mem-ories to guard against remembering and talking. I went so far in this that none of my in-laws even knew that I had spent ten years in the convent. Memory .is a volatile and indeterminate thing. March-April 1994 201 Greer ¯ Needed: An Ethic of Memories Another association that came to mind was to a recurring cur-rent- day announcement in my parish bulletin, inviting people to join a counseling group entitled "Adult Children of Dysfunctional Families." The invitation listed several questions. If one answered yes to these questions, the implication was that one should join this discussion group. I recalled that I always read the list of ques-tions with rising irritation and impatience. I am well aware that the answers to these questions can indicate a multitude of subtle or gross psychological difficulties. I also know that these diffi-culties are unlikely to be helped by ten sessions of parent bashing, however ghastly one's parents may have been. In fact, my experi-ence has been that such discussions often give persons with seri-ous characterological difficulties a new excuse to indulge in self-pity, instead of helping them to effect in themselves hard psy-chological changes. My thoughts then went to some students in my pastoral-coun-seling classes who seemed unable to learn anything abstract because their own memories were so enlivened by the class mate-rial. I had to work against the tendency of these few to turn the class into group therapy. This led my thoughts to my admiration for a student who came to me and said simply, "I don't want to go into details, but I'm dropping your class because it's getting me too upset. I'll take it again in two years, after I've done some work in therapy." I also connected my associations to my original contact with psychoanalysis. At that time I was aware of being quite depressed at the impending death of my mother-in-law and the illness of my young son. I went to my HMO (health maintenance organi-zation) for the twenty sessions of psychotherapy included in my employer's contract. After ten sessions the supervising psychia-trist threw up his hands and said, "Go have psychoanalysis. You spend half your energy avoiding mourning over the loss of your friends in the convent, so you cannot stand up under the pres-sure of the present. We cannot do anything for you in ten more sessions." I took his advice, found it helpful, and became so inter-ested in analysis that I ultimately became an analyst myself. So I had become a "specialist in memories," as a roundabout result of my original avoidance of memories! How did this con-nect to my indiscretion in sharing my memory of the meaning of Anna's nickname and to my subsequent discomfort? I spend part of each day listening to memories that are eatin, g 202 Review for Religious at my clients, my analysands. For their own personal benefit, I almost always discourage them from sharing these memories out-side the sessions. They would dissipate the emotional power gen-erated by private reflection and structured therapeutic work on their memories if they broadcasted them to friends and relatives. That emotional power would then be less available for real per-sonal change. Anger, grief, and disappointment are powerful emotions. In the psyche they are similar to oil or coal that can be converted to fuel, used as energy for action and redirection. Endless talk dissipates rather than concentrates this energy. But I have a second reason, an important ethical one, for discouraging people from sharing these old memories that they discover as we work in therapy sessions. Memory is a tricky thing. What we empha-size, and what we forget, depends not only on what happened, but on our intellectual capacities at the time of the event and on our ability to endure the truth. What we remember is seldom the whole story. Here is the advantage to keeping these memories within the therapy sessions. If kept within the treatment relationship, this potential discrepancy between past facts and current memories is simply more grist for the therapeutic mill. If we discover together a suppression of some aspect of the past, within the ses-sion we can very usefully explore why that bit of information was so carefully forgotten and what change has made it possible to remember now. The layering of memories is such a common-place that psychoanalysis has a special name, "screen memory," for a memory that hides behind it yet another, more traiamatic mem-ory. In a full-length analysis of a person with a traumatic but largely forgotten childhood, I have seen the "screen" layers turn out to be more than two deep. This constitutes an excellent i'ea-son for those in treatment to hold their tongues while continuing to trace the red thread through the tangled skein of their mem-ories. There is, however, yet another ethical aspect to the question of sharing a memory from treatment. Suppose the person in treat-ment decides to give a sibling a play-by-play description of the current status of the therapeutic work. Several major problems ensue, which seem to me to have important ethical dimensions. First of all, the listener may have shared some of the experiences What we remember is seldom the whole story. March-April 1994 ]03 Greet ¯ Needed: An Ethic of Memories in the recovered memories. But the listener may not have a ther-apist or other suitable confidant with whom to work through the feelings stirred up by these confidences. Even if the listener is a current-day friend who did not share the speaker's experiences, the friend .may have had similar experiences which are suddenly brought into working memory. In either case, this recollection occurs, not when the listener chooses and feels ready, but when the speaker thoughtlessly imposes this unexpected psychological task. This is one good reason that therapy per se is a profession and not a friendship task. Professional therapists have been trained to attend to their own intrapsychic reactions to the client's dis-course. The client realistically depends upon this aspect of the therapeutic contract in order to be free of the burden of caring for the therapist's psyche during the sessions. Moreover, the client need feel no guilt at all about burdening the therapist, because the client is paying the therapist to perform this intrapsychic task. It is the therapist's job to have recourse to self-analysis, peer supervision, or a resumption of personal treat-ment if a client's discourse about traumatic memories then arouses troubling feelings and memories in the therapist. To expect this same degree of accommodation from a friend would be exploita-five. Such concomitant self-care cannot be appropriately forced on a nonprofessional in order to make one's friend more "useful" in working through one's past. To force this task upon a friend would be appropriate reason to feel quite guilty. A very serious problem may follow the sharing of one's mem-ories outside of therapy as if they were firm fact. The uncon-scious operates by a set of "primary process" laws. The psychoanalytic term "secondary process" refers to our rational, adult way of thought processing and is roughly equivalent to "rea-soning." In contrast, primary process is the more primitive and imaginative way of thinking that takes place in dreams, creative productions, and memories. In primary process the part may be substituted for the whole, or vice versa; one person may be sub-sfituted for another, or one event for another, because of some yet unnoted logical connection between them. In dream analysis these connections can often be recovered by asking the analysand to systematically free-associate to each element (noun, verb, or adjective) of the dream narrative until the stream of associations runs dry. But in memories per se, often the missing or substituted elements become clear only much later, when the remembering 204 Review for Religious person overcomes resistance to a more accurate memory. The dangers of sharing the "interim drafts" of the final memory should be obvious. Terrible hurts may be imposed on the innocent. But suppose the memory is accurate and stands fast over time in the face of careful analysis? There still seems an ethical prob-lem in broadcasting such a memory. Memory by definition refers to the past. The persons in the memories have current-day rela-tionships with other innocent people. For example, suppose a sib-ling who molested you now has a wife and children. What good would be served by venting one's rage within the family and destroying the peace of the newer family members? One would be obtaining revenge, or at least emotional ventilation, at the expense of the innocent. Certainly the person who recalls experiences of victimization and exploitation has every right to establish a psychological dis-tance from the past abuser. But this can be done without sharing one's thoughts. Further, over the course of a long mental-health treatment or course of counseling, the analysand usually arrives at a position of compassion towards those who caused them suffer-ing in childhood. Even in cases of former physical or sexual abuse, the termination of treatment finds the survivors in a position of forgiveness combined with appropriate self-protection, rather than a position of vengeful attack. This psychological disposition is serendipitously not only more Christian, but also more life enhancing. As we approach the end of treatment, I have sometimes been thanked for insisting on the confidentiality of the ongoing treat-ment. In the heat of remembering, one may wish to confront one's torturers. But later, after the pain has been alleviated, an analysand is often grateful that some small but meaningful rela-tionship remains, for example, with parents who are now under-stood to have been pitifully impaired by their childhoods. After the incident of Anna's nickname, one result of my asso-ciative process was a new realization that middle-aged people who have been, or still are, in a religious order have not one but two families of origin. The usual past practice of admitting very young candidates means that many candidates completed adolescence and entered young adulthood with a second set of parents, the training staff. Moreover, the drastic changes involved in enter-ing a religious order could be expected to cause, and did cause, massive regression in many candidates. This means that, in effect, March-April 1994 205 Crreer * Needed: An Ethic of Memories they spent not only some of adolescence but even all of adoles-cence and some of a second latency period within the cloister. It would be theoretically likely that the usual mechanisms of for-getting childhood trauma, recovering it in garbled form, and feel-ing a need to work through it would be present When is a memory private, and when is it community property? When must it be told, when may it be told, and when must it be kept secret? in such people with regard to t~0 childhoods and two sets of parents. My reflection led me to include myself among those who had such a past and to recall that my main dissatisfaction with my training analyst had been his utter incapacity to imagine my life experience as a young religious. Thus Anna's nickname pointed me to a new task in my ongoing self-analysis. My second realization was a personal grasp of a dilemma'I have listened to many times from the victims of family crimes. When is a memory private, and when is it community property? W-hen must it be told, when may it be told, and when must it be kept secret? I had learned that this question may surface about something as large as incest or as small as a nickname. As in many of the subtle ethical dilemmas in life, there is no pat answer to this question. It is well to keep this in mind. Here a final memory linked with Anna emerged, and I under-stood another of the roots of my early resolve against giving pain by narrating private memories of my past convent experience. In this memory I was a novice, on vacation at a rustic seaside camp connected to a rural high school owned by the order. Along the length of the washroom wher~ I was brushing my teeth, there was a ventilation space just under the eaves, open to the cloister walk outside. Out on the cloister walk I recognized, among a group of visiting major superiors, the voice of the nun who had been principal of my school when Anna and I were students together. Another superior who did not know me mentioned my name. My old principal, who had not spoken to me in three years, remarked, "Oh, yes, that one is full of the Old Nick." My eyes filled with angry tears. I felt it was unfair to judge me at age eigh-teen by my behavior three years before. At that point in my current-day reflections, I realized that each of us is in a process of becoming. Those who have remem- ~06 Rwbiew for Religious bered us only by some static moment and then have passed out of our lives do seem to have an ethical obligation to keep their own counsel. After all, persons being impugned via the narration of memory may, in effect, no longer exist; they may be thoroughly different from the persons called to mind by the reminiscence. In any case, they deserve the benefit of the doubt. Participants in therapies which focus upon memories of years ago need to keep this in mind. So do ordinary folk, particularly as they age and their store of memories becomes larger and larger. Easter Lily Your bell is poised for announcement, green-white at first, the color of music not yet tongued. We have come to expect drama: spring's green entrance, the dandelion invasion, snow in the orchard, and those housewrens concealing their nest in the ivy-veiled oak. This morning you trumpeted six gold notes from your ivory cave, a fanfare for the resurrection from the dead. Avis Kunca Kubick March-dt~H11994 207 \~ILLIAM MOCKUS A Discipline of Self-Respect Forthose seeking direction in their spiritual journeys and for .1_ .those who journey with people seeking God's direction, how we use the word discipline needs to be given attention. Our assumptions about discipline significantly affect our spiritual exer-cises and practices. A few years ago a cartoon depicted one man saying to another, "Yes, I'd like to reach spiritual perfection as soon as possible; then move on to bigger and better things." Obviously, this perception of "spiritual perfection" relates more to ego achievement than to true spiritual growth. But, like most humor, what makes it funny is its nearness to truth. We desire to grow spiritually, but we are not sure of how or when the goal is reached. When asked what they desire at the beginning of a retreat or a spiritual-direction relationship, many people say a closer or more intimate relationship with God, a more faithful practice of prayer, or a sense of security around what they are already doing in prayer even though it may "feel dead" to them. Often, from what we have been taught and have come to believe about spiritual perfection, we assume that greater disci-pline, meaning greater self-control, will produce the desired spir-itual fruit. To pray well, we believe we must control our wandering imagination, our body, even our breath. We believe that, if we fdil ai' our discipline ot[ self-control, then we or someone else may judge our spiritual life, if not our entire self, to be a failure. William Mockus, a diocesan priest from Paterson, New Jersey, currently serves on the. retreat team at Bon Secours Spiritual Center. His address is Bon Secours Spiritual C.enter; 1525 Marriottsville Road; Marriottsville, Maryland 21104. 208 Review for Religious We have long recognized that, in developing most worth-while skills, some type of discipline is required. We assume, then, that living Christian lives "skillfully" must involve the "discipline" of putting the Jesus story into our everyday activity. But our image of God should not ignore Jesus' own activity at work within our lives as they are. Having such an image involves a different sort of discipline. Rather than straining to achieve a degree of spiritual perfection that will allow us to feel secure by sheer force of will, we need to seek a "disciplined faithfulness to our own advancing StOry." In the spiritual life the essential ingredient is relationship-- our individual relationship with God and our communal rela-tionship with one another in God. It is for the sake of these relationships that discipline is important, but only secondarily. In our growing-up years, it is important to learn some discipline, some self-control. Without "boundaries of behavior" for impulses and emotions, we would do much harm to ourselves and others. Good boundaries are important for developing ego identity and strength. For adults, however, it is a mistake to confine one's thinking about discipline to self-control. For people beyond young adulthood, viewing one's need for spiritual discipline as a function of self-respect can be more help-ful than striving after an unrealizable degree of self-control. In fact, spiritual (and emotional) growth may be more hindered than helped by too much of it. Mature Christians realize this. Increased self-respect comes from patient growth in God, not from aggres-sively building oneself up to self-perfection. Discipline for the journey is more a matter of trusting in the Spirit's movement than of standing tall or standing one's ground. We do not arrive at "spiritual perfection" as much as journey toward it in hope and faith. Here a healthy discipline of self-respect can prevent us from abandoning the quest for spiritual perfection in frustration because we lack enough self-control to arrive at some idealized point of our own choosing. This adjustment in our understanding of spiritual discipline can help us move from a success/failure model of spiritual life to one of ongoing progress. It is a call for respect of one's "true self" rather than control over one's imperfect self. The practice of self-respect, like most spiritual tasks, requires a real commitment to discipline. But it is a discipline that has patience for the grow-ing self's time of maturation and integration. March-April 1994 209 Mockus * A Discipline of Self-Respect People often perceive their lives as somehow overshadowed by what they have come to understand as their vocation or calling: the idealized notion of being a Christian, to be perfect as their "heavenly Father is perfect." Traditionally we have been taught to strive toward spiritual perfection in prayer and spiritual practices. Unfortunately, for us limited human beings, the reality of our many imperfections is often contrasted too harshly with the ideal. No matter how we struggle we always fall short of our desired perfection, and the ideal always eludes us. If self-perfection is the goal, the flawed reality of our lives usually confronts rather than comforts us in our spiritual quest. In terms of God's perfection, and our own expectations, we always fail. Nevertheless, thanks to the desire that God places at the core of our being, we keep. striving in one way or another to deepen the relationship with the One who is the source of all our desire. Yet, when we do not respect our own truth and wisdom, we too fre-quently seek some magical prayer discipline or some miracle that will deliver us from our failure-ridden struggle. If God wants us to be perfect, then more fervent prayer, or Jesus, or some spiri-tual director will help us finally achieve it--right? For those who seek "spiritual perfection," reaching the goal is constantly frustrated by human limitations. One's prayer disci-pline or acts of charity, one's responsibility to family or commu-nity, fulfillment of one's commitments or vows can never be as they should be because perfection moves as soon as it appears within reach. Considering what might be years of frustration in attempting to reach an idealized image of oneself, it is easy to understand some people's difficulty in determining how to improve their spir-itual practice or in ever finding the "comfort zone" of a commit-ted daily prayer practice. The built-in danger of a self-perception based on an ideal is that the reality of our limitations causes us to judge our efforts harshly, no matter how hard we try--unless in frustration we give up the quest. A typical response to what often feels like constant failure is grief or, worse, despair. In Vital Spiritualities Jerry Broccalo explains the distinction between a spirituality of the real and a spirituality of the ideal while recognizing the value of each. As with the rest of life, when it comes to our spirituality there is a radical difference between the ideal and the real. We too often confuse the difference. Despite the God-life within us, we are not God; weare not 210 Review for Religious perfect and cannot control everything in our life, especially its limits. A discipline of self-respect allows us to see the truth of our humanness more clearly. It requires that we discard the belief that our perfection is within our power. God is God; we are not. Our spiritual growth does not depend on our ability to control reality, but rather on our ability to surrender con-trol. ~ This surrender depends on our recovering what may be termed our "firsts." Making the shift from a discipline of self-control to one of self-respect is a matter of taking the right steps in sequence. One cannot skip the first step in the" process. We need to recover our appreciation of the first commandment, the first beatitude, and the first three steps of any twelve-step program thfit deals with addictions. Each of these firsts points to several parallel truths. We are not in charge, we need God, and we cannot control everything about our lives. The truth behind all of these firsts is that we are mor-tal and limited, as well as graced and saved. We cannot assume the power to judge or condemn ourselves for failures or wrong choices. Although we may judge an action or the lack of action as evil or sinful, it is God's domain to judge the person: Poverty of spirit, the first beatitude, requires that we real-ize exactly who is and who is not God in the human/divine rela-tionship. Because I know that prayer, exercise, and setting boundaries around my appetites are all essential for my well-being, for my "true self" to grow strong, I know that I need discipline, but not the discipline of self-control based on an ideal image of myself. Perhaps the most common temptation to idolatry is the ongoing desire to see myself only through others' .eyes. Butmy holiness depends on being my true self and worshiping the God in whose image I was made rather than a god made in my image. The discipline of self-respect compels me to do these things because .of what Christ has taught me about the reign of God within me. When I do not practice the discipline involved in liv-ing the Good News, I am being respectful of neither nay true self nor the gospel. If I do not pray or care for my body with proper diet and exercise, I need to look again at my spiritual discipline. But even then I have no right to condemn and crucify myself. A discipline of self-respect allows us to see the truth of our humanness more clearly. March-April 1994 211 Mockus ¯ A Discipline of Self-Respect Instead, in honest humility I can admit nay lack of self-respect and recommit myself once more to following the Lord rather than pursuing my idealized self. A discipline of self-respect calls me to constant conversion and does not allow me to assume divine authority over my own, or someone else's, failures. This discipline is one of true humility, and holds that human beings may not usurp God's authority. Maybe this is why the first commandment is the first, and the first beatitude is first, and why the same three steps are put at the beginning of every twelve-step recovery program. The first step is the need to recognize our dependence on God. The first steps in recovery, like the first beatitude and the first commandment, contradict the common belief that, if only we exercised enough self-control, we would pray better and live better and thus become more holy--and, pre-sumably, this level of spiritual perfection would make us more loved by God. This may be more a form of spiritual consumerism than a spiritually mature relationship with God in Christ Jesus. One may object that this type of spiritual discipline sounds too much like those theories which so casually justify the selfishness and self-centeredness of contemporary culture. From teachings learned in our growing-up years, it is easy to believe that all talk of self-respect promotes attitudes that are too self-centered. Admittedly, the danger of self-righteousness always remains with us, but it may be worth the risk to use the spiritual discipline I propose in the hope of gaining a more God-centered rather than self-center.ed view of what discipline is meant to be. The phrase "discipline of self-respect" may suggest imma-ture self-centeredness. People often assume that, if a spiritual dis-cipline does not involve self-denial, then it must be some form of narcissism. But such an ego-driven and immature sense of self is not what we are speaking about. We are advocating respect f0r one's "true self," as Thomas Merton uses the term, where the egoless self encounters the reign of God within one's life. In a conversation several years ago with Dr. Frederick Franck, I inquired about the Buddhist notion of decreasing one's ego desires and the Christian notion of dying to oneself. Dr. Franck responded that "first one had to have an ego." Before one dies to oneself, one must be a self or have what may be termed a' healthy ego, a sense of one's own true self. For the believer, Christ' is not only the image of the invisible God; he is also the image of our true self encountered within the reality of our lives, not in 212 Revie~v for Religious some unrealizable ideal. A discipline of self-respect is not self-ishness. It is a way to understand spiritual discipline as a call to die to one's false self-centeredness in order that one's true Christ-centeredness may be more fully realized in our lives. It is God's reign rather than our own that this discipline seeks. This call to be our "true selves" is always new and meaning-ful, no matter what age we are or in what stage of life we find ourselves. Whether we are young and need to control our impulses and urges, or mature and need to respect the truth of our real but limited lives, our spiritual discipline must reflect our experience of life and God. What is required in the spiritual jour-ney, if it is to be more God-centered than ego-centered, is a healthy and humble discipline towards one's true self. This disci-pline involves an ongoing quest for self-knowledge and self-respect and an openness to God's constant and loving call for conversion. If one's discipline of prayer or exercise or eating or working is to be tru!y healthy and whole, it must be balanced and con-gruent with one's true identity. It cannot be mere conformity to the images and masks we have held before us, whether these are images of perfect beauty or perfect sanctity. One's spiritual per-fection, then, is not a goal to be chalked up on a self-actualiza-tion chart. It is not a matter of self-mastery, but of self-surrender. The discipline of self-respect is a matter of surrendering to one's true self, encountered at the point of contemplative union with the God who made us just the way we are. Correction Do you know what the word KUMASI becomes when the spellcheck of a computer program encounters it? It becomes CHUMPS. Our apologies to the KUMASI diocese of Ghana mentioned in Susan Rakoczy's article "Charismatic Renewal and Consecrated Life" in our November- December 1993 issue, page 913. March-April 1994 213 ANNETE ADAMS A Transformational Journey May living room can be a cozy place in the winter. Making fire in the fireplace, watching the flames, listening to the crackle of wood, catching a glimpse of a spark breaking away, all move me into a very reflective mood. There is some-thing about a fire in a fireplace that captures my spirit and invites me to quiet. I began to think about images: fire, sun, wind, water, animals, insects. Since images have played an important part in my spiri-tual journey, I looked back to see what image has spoken most powerfully to me. That image is the butterfly. I began reflecting on the monarch butterfly about ten or eleven years ago. Did you know that in its caterpillar stage it can resist moving into the next stage? It can postpone moving into the chrysalis until the fol-lowing spring. This experience reminded me of a time I had been resisting a change in my own life and thinking of all the reasons why I was not the person for this new ministry. Why me? Why now? Why not someone else? I struggled for a long time and finally one day, too tired to fight anymore, I just sat and listened to some reflective music. As I listened, someone came into the room and told me of a wonderfulsight she had just seen. She had watched a beautiful monarch emerge from its chrysalis. She had never seen such a wondrous transformation. For me that was a very powerful moment, for it spoke to me of my own moment of surrender. It was not until I surrendered that I could begin to be free enough to say yes to what I was being Annete Adams SND has been a teacher and a formation director. Currently provincial secretary, she also gives retreats and does spiritual direction. Her address is Notre Dame Educational Center; 13000 Auburn Road; Chardon, Ohio 44024. 214 Review for Religious invited to do. Was this the beginning of another time in my life that was beckoning me into my own chrysalis, to a state of fertile emptiness, to a time of waiting, inviting a transformation? That image .and that symbol are still with me on my journey. I sit here now, in the midst of another transition time in my life, knowing it is time to let go, to move on, uncertain about what is ahead, and yet excited about what might emerge and bring new life and energy. I remember being on a week-long retreat and feeling as though I were a chrysalis. There was not a thought, a prayer, a song, or a gesture that spoke to me. I took a walk that day through a very quiet neighborhood and got lost. A monarch butterfly on the ground caught my eye. I went to look at it. It was dead. I remember picking up this fragile bit of creation, too beautiful to leave there, and holding it in my hand as I walked on, seemingly forever. I came to a park and sat on the grass, opened my journal, and drew what I saw; somehow it became a priceless gift for the day. At the end of the time I took it to a "safe place" where it would not be trampled on and then began my journey back. I remember sharing the incidents of the day with my director. I told her I could not even imagine why I was carrying, so care-fully, a dead butterfly. Her question to me was simple and yet profound: "Did you ever think that the dead butterfly was you-- the part of you that died, that is no longer--and that is why you carried it with you until you could let it go? I knew at once that the suggestion in her words and eyes was true. I had been look-ing outside myself for the answer when in fact it was within. As I reflected on this image later, I noticed near the fireplace a small sand castle. It had been given to me as a gift because of my great love for Teresa of Avila and her Interior Castle. I wondered if each dwelling place could be like another cocoon--a place of darkness, a place pregnant with all the possibilities of newness and a place of deep union between the lover and the Beloved--as it awaits its moment of transformation. Such a simple image and yet what profound insights! All this reflecting brought me to con-sider my own journey and' that of those on the road with me. I reflected on spiritual direction for this journey of ours. Have you ever watched the cycle of the monarch butterfly? To me it seems similar to what happens in spiritual direction. The journey is one of wonder and joy. The journey is one of searching, watching, waiting, mystery, and transformation. Marcb-.4pri11994 213 Adams ¯ A Transformational.yourney The egg of the monarch butterfly looks like a very, very tiny pearl. The Searching To get yourself a monarch-butterfly caterpillar, you would do well to look in a field, along the road, or in a garden for the milk-weed plant and then to examine its leaves and stalk carefully. The egg of the monarch butterfly looks like a very, very tiny pearl. You can take the leaf on which the egg rests and place it on a moist sponge; in time you will see a tiny caterpillar emerge to begin its new life. If you cannot find an egg, then you should look for an already hatched monarch caterpillar--with its eas-ily spotted black, white, and yellow circular bands--wherever it has left a trail of partly con-sumed milkweed leaves. Directees do their own kind of searching in spiritual direction. They search for a director who will help them unfold their real selves, one who will help them search out the truth, one who will love them for who they are and continually journey with them as they come to know a God who nourishes them on their journey. In spiritual direction directees search and find; they search and sometimes do not find; but they do not stop searching, no matter how painful it becomes. It is not the director's demand that makes this contihued search happen. It is their realization that God's search for them is much greater than their search for God because God's love for them is unconditional. The Watching If you really want to watch the monarch caterpillar in its var-ious stages, then you need to put the portion of the plant that the caterpillar is on into a large glass jar and cover it with some fine netting. The caterpillar moves all over the plant, continu-ally eating bits of leaqes, taking in all the nourishment it can for the journey. In very quiet moments, with your ear over the top of the jar, you can hear the sound of each bite. It is that kind of posture of attentive listening that is part of being a spiritual director. It takes many quiet moments to notice what is happening in a directee's journey. It takes the right setting, an atmosphere for growth, openness, and readiness for the jour-ney. The directees need to place themselves in a setting where spiritual direction can take place, to prepare themselves to be 216 Review for Religious receptive to however our God wishes to feed them with words, prayers, songs, or silence. The Waiting The caterpillar needs leaves from the milkweed plant every day. You can watch in silence each day for its constant growth-- watching it become larger and larger until one day it stops eating and begins searching for a place to attach itself so as to begin the mysterious and won-derful work of forming the chrysalis. I have watched for many hours in utter amazement at how care-fully the caterpillar walks around and around its container until it finds the place to fasten itself securely. Th

Issue 51.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1992. ; for religi.ous Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1992 ¯-VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 4 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 Washington~ D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 4 contents evangelizing and witnessing ° 486 Church of the Poor Juan Ram6n Moreno sJ reflects on the implications of seeing the poor as central for the identity of the church and religious life. 496 Women Missioners amidst Violence Annmarie Sanders IHM reflects the questions, fears, and chal-lenges facing foreign women missionaries in Peru. 504 School of Terror Roy Bourgeois MM speaks on behalf of the poor as he voices his concern about a particular military training camp called the School of the Americas. inculturating 508 Women Religious and the African Synod M. Gerard Nwagwu offers her thoughts on the evangelization of Africa in an article originally presented as the keynote address at the National Day of Celebration of the Nigerian Conference of Women Religious in January 1992. 519 Rerooting Religious Life in South Africa Jennifer Mary Alt OP reflects on how native African spiritual values might become better integrated into the religious-life vocation. 527 54O 545 living religiously Religious Life and Religion Albert DiIanni SM calls attention to the religious core of a belief in God and of our relationship with God which cannot be reduced to a personal~ social, or ecological morality. Detachment in Our Psychological Age Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ explains detachment as a way of freeing ourselves from our compulsive behaviors and opening ourselves to God's healing. An Ache in My Heart Bernard Seif SMC witnesses to the continuing call and direction of God in bringing forth new forms of dedicated life in the " church. 482 Review Jbr Religious focusing religious life 550 Religious Life in Church Documents Patricia F. Walter OP presents some aspects identifying religious life in conciliar and postconciliar documents of the magisterium. 562 The Ignatian Charism of the Sisters of St. Joseph Joan L. Roccasalvo CSJ shows how the Spiritual Exercises per-meate Jean-Pierre M~daille's Maxims of Perfection and so fire an Ignatian spirit for the Sisters of St. Joseph. 575 Envisioning Associate Identity Rose Marie Jasinski CBS reflects on the status of the associate movement in the light of the second national conference held 5-7 May 1991. 581 Musings about Vocations James E. Claffey CM finds vocation ministry a stimulant to a broader understanding of how God breaks into our history. 585 595 600 614 484 625 632 ministering Pastoral Leadership beyond the Managerial (XL*~ Matthias Neuman OSB stresses the role of spiritual leadership in the midst of ministry challenges. Scarcity and Abundance in Parishes Thomas P. Sweetser SJ compares the parish to a desert of scarci-ties, but at the same time a desert beautiful with hidden wells of life. Marian Community and Ministry Patrick Primeaux SM combines data from both the theological and businessomanage.ment disciplines to distinguish a Petrine and a Marian way of ministering and of living community. Three Images of Priesthood Henry J. Charles proposes the images of priest as collaborator, mystagogue, and holy man for a renewed understanding of priesthood. departments Prisms /~ Canonical Counsel: Involuntary Ex~laustration Book Reviews .l~uly-Augu.ct 1992 483 prisms History happens. We human beings can write our history books and, by emphasis and omission and sometimes by romanticizing, make as if we are mas-ters of our history. It may take only some seventy years for the rewriting of the Communist history of Russia or it may take five hundred years for the European discovery of the Americas to be reevaluated. But it happens. We say that Pope John XXIII made history when he called the Second Vatican Council. We are well aware that the church experienced, through the actions of the bishops present at the council, something that has been likened to a second Pentecost. For our own availability to the God of history, we need to return again and again to the happening of that first Pentecost and the subsequent events as recorded in the Acts of the Apostles. God's Spirit makes things happen, even when the very persons involved seem so little capable of being the crafters of history. Most recently Pope John Paul II has expressed his own desire to make history by his call for a new evangelization, partic-ularly occasioned by our entering into the third millen-nium. This call to a new evangelization holds the promise of another moment of this second Pentecost that came with Vatican II. It is history happening, in which none of us is the master or control-artist, but every one of us plays an important role--with the Spirit's direction. Evangelization--new evangelization--demands much of us all. A paradigm of evangelization and inculturation captures our attention anew as we reflect upon the events in the Acts of the Apostles. It means that no one can hold himself or herself exempt from the call of this second moment of the second Pentecostqthe call to a new hear- 484 Review for Religious ing of good news. This is not the time for new rules or the impo-sition of old ones--the Judaizers tried that two thousand years ago. It is the time for Cornelius, his wife, and household to invite Peter once again to proclaim the gospel so that new conversion on everyone's part can take place. It is the time for Peter to dream new dreams and hear God telling him that old restrictions do not apply in a new creation moment. One of the deepest meanings of Pentecost lies in the fact that all peoples heard the good news in a way that they could under-stand and respond to. It goes beyond the language barrier to breakthroughs involving customs, heritages, and rituals. In the Pentecost beginnings, Jesus Christ and the gospel message needed no inculturation. In the new evangelization as in the original one recorded in the Acts of the Apostles, it is not Jesus Christ who needs to be inculturated; he is already a confidant of people's hearts. It is his church that must be inculturated by being evan-gelized anew as well as by evangelizing others. The Acts of the Apostles--the story of the first evangelizing time--portrays the exhilarating and somber picture that inculturating a church does not come without cost--a cost which everyone must bear in lis-tening to ~hocking good news, in experiencing a certain amount of turmoil, in suffering the pain of differences expressed vigorously by people who serve or are served. John Paul II has said that "we need an evangelization that is new in its ardor, new in its method, new in its expressions." That ' is what we--always the disciples--must allow to happen to our-selves first: to be evangelized anew in order to be the new evan-gelizers. We need to rethink how to inculturate a church, not a gospel. If the original Jewish and pagan converts to the new Christian faith seemed to share little common religious heritage and ritual and yet, with struggle, came to form the Body of Christ, can we today not recognize the imperative of a new evangelization demanding the same kind of breakthrough for traditionalists, lib-erals, feminists, or whatever modern-day version an appeal to the party of Apollos or Paul takes? A new evangelization brings the excitement of discovery into our own lives and so into our church. Let the Spirit lead. It has happened; it will happen again. David L. Fleming SJ ~uly-Augu~t 1992 485 JUAN RAMON MORENO Church of the Poor evangelizing and witnessing Juan Ram6n Moreno SJ was one of six Jesuits mur-dered along with an employee and her daughter by Salvadoran military forces at the Jesuit residence of the Central American University, San Salvador, on 16 November 1989. He was widely known as a spiritual director, teacher, preacher, and giver of retreats and conferences and was the founder and editor of the spirituality journal Diakonfa. Besides holding other responsibilities, at various times he was novice director for the Jesuits of Central America, local superior, university professor, and president of the Panamanian and Nicaraguan con-ferences of religious. This article was first published in Diakonfa 7 (1978): 17-28 and republished in a collection of Father Moreno's writings, Evangelio y misidn (San Salvador: UCA Editores, 1990). The translation is by James R. Brockman SJ with the permission of UCA Editores. The footnotes are the translator's. The term "church of the poor" is meant to express a new awareness of what it is to be church, an awareness that is growing in force among Christians in Latin America. The following thoughts are proposed as a help toward under-standing the foundation and principal traits of this way of viewing the church. Church of the Poor and Vatican II The schema on the church elaborated by the precon-ciliar doctrinal commission brought together the ecclesi-ology traditionally taught in recent centuries, and the 486 Review for Religious that allow one to recognize in Jesus the hoped-for Messiah are that "the blind see and the lame walk., and the good news is proclaimed to the poor" (Mt 11:5), what should be the traits that make recognizable Jesus' church? Church Born from Below Vatican II has allowed us to pass from a church that becomes conscious of itself and is organized and structured fr0m within, from itself, to a church that seeks to understand and structure itselffr0m without, from the world that it has been sent to in order to make God's kingdom grow in that world. Nevertheless, the reality that the world is a divided world had not yet made its full impact on the council. Consequently, the challenges to which it more directly proposes to respond are those of a world seen too much from above, from the angle of the learned and the skilled, from the culture and the perspective of the dominant classes. But at Medellfn2 the Latin American bishops began to express in an inspired and probing manner the conflictive reality of our world. The cry of the impoverished majority of the continent found an echo. The church began to become aware of itself and to organize and structure its life and pastoral action not from an abstract world or from just any part of the real, concrete world, but from below, from the world of the poor, and from there to fashion itself as the true church of Christ. Church of the Poor One must not confuse church of the poor with church3'br the poor. A church for the poo~r would be a church that is constituted in a first step that is logically prior to its encounter with the poor and then, in a second step, seeks out the poor to serve and help them. But the church of the poor is a church that in its very con-stitution has the poor as its center. There is no doubt that the church, as the historical body of Christ, must place itself in the world to transform it and to make present in it the reign of God. It must be incarnated, that is, take a body, become a visible and acting institution. But the problem is, what are the criteria that are to determine its institutional shape? What body will it take? Faithful to the incarnational logic of Jesus, the church must take the body of the poor, incorporat-j~ uly-.4ugust 1992 489 Moreno ¯ Church of the Poor ing the poor, making the poor to be those who make up what is characteristic and determinant of its body, which is structured and takes visible form from the cause and the interests of the poor. Let us take a Gospel passage that graphically illustrates this, which is the particular way of acting of Jesus. I choose the short scene with which Mark begins his third chapter. He describes a Jesus situated within a determined sociocultural-religious con-text. But Jesus is situated in it concretely, and he is situated in a way which is perceived by one of the parties as threatening to its interests--"they wer~ watching him closely" (3:2)--and which provokes a conflict so sharp that "they plotted together to see how to eliminate him" (3:6). What is indicative is the place where Jesus is situated and from which he faces the situation: solidarity with the actual man, the man in his poverty, the man oppressed by his paralyzed hand and forsaken by the institution. He has him step into the middle of the synagogue. And he obliges the others, the representatives of the grand institution, to face up to their own presuppositions: Is it licit or not? What is more important, the institution or the person, maintaining the institution or free-ing a man from what concretely oppresses him? What is the cri-terion to act on? "But they were silent" (3:4). Jesus' reaction is, "Then looking at them with anger . . ." (3:5). Countless times the Gospels speak of Jesus' look--always a loving and compas-sionate look. Now he looks "with anger." At whom? At that group of wise, prudent men who are respectful of the institution. Why? Because they refuse to commit themselves to the man, they refuse to make a decision in regard to a poor person, they refuse to take a stand in a situation that questions their rigid institutional schemes. Jesus says, "Hold out your hand" (3:5). Jesus chooses the poor person, the man in a situation of concrete need. The institution is either at the service of human beings orit does not reflect the true God. The Gospels contain many even more radical expressions about the poor as the fundamental criterion for discerning whether we are following the path to God's kingdom. Perhaps the most awesome and disquieting is the words contained in Matthew 25:31-46: "Come, blessed ones of my Father, inherit the kingdom . . . for I was hungry and you gave me to eat. depart from me, accursed ones., for I was naked and you did no~' clothe me . " There is not much room here for sociological or 490 Review for Religious theological lucubrations about who are the poor that are spoken of and what is the determinant criterion for measuring God's nearness. Crucified Church As we can see in the example of Jesus, taking the side of the poor supposes having the courage to get involved in conflict. The history of the Latin American church since Medellfn confirms what has been true all through its existence: insofar as it empties itself of power and prestige so as to enter the world of the poor and be identified with them and their cause, it has also had to suffer their lot--crucifixion and death--and it has come to under-stand why it cannot follow Jesus without denying itself and car-rying the cross. It is because the immense majority of the poor are not poor simply because of nature, but because of other persons. In reality, the poor are the impoverished. Hence, their mere pres-ence is an accusation, a questioning; it creates conflict. The poor are a cause of division, a division whose theological meaning is apocalyptically described in the eschatological discourse I have mentioned: "He will separate one from the other, as the shep-herd separates the sheep from the goats" (Mt 25:32). Jesus him-self, poor and in solidarity with the poor, appears as "a sign of contradiction" (Lk 2:34); and when he takes his place actually at the side of the poor, he provokes conflict and repression, and he suffers death. For this reason the church of the poor is the crucified church, the church of the martyrs. It is so insofar as it is a church of the poor. As long as it preaches universal but abstract love, as long as it is a church from above, the world's powerful praise and respect it; they consider it their church. But when it begins to translate love into historical terms, when it begins to take the side of the poor and it plans and organizes its pastoral work with them in mind, then it begins also to be the church that is slandered and persecuted. If we look at this fact in the light of the Beatitudes (see Lk 6:22-23, 26) there is no doubt which one is the church of Jesus. Church in which the Poor are Evangelized The poor are the privileged consignees of the good news of .~ly-Aug'ust 1992 491 Moreno ¯ Church of the Poor salvation. That does not mean they are the exclusive consignees. Partiality is not the same as exclusiveness. Jesus comes to bring sal-vation for all. But he comes to bring it from the poor, and fi'om them he confronts the changes that must come about in the world; he makes specific what it means to be converted, what it means to become brothers and sisters. This is not a matter of mystifying the poor, as if they were the good and the rich were the bad. It is that objectively God's identi-fication with the poor, the defense of their cause, is precisely where it is revealed what God is, a God who is love that saves, love that creates a brotherhood and sisterhood of sons and daughters, love that makes all things new. And so it is from there that salva-tion is offered to all. The Beatitudes proclaim, not the goodness of human beings, but the goodness of the God who identifies with the little ones of the earth. The Acts of the Apostles describes for us a church that under, stood this very well and where for that reason the poor find their place in such a way that they cease to be poor: Among them no one was needy, because all those who pos-sessed land or houses sold them and brought the price of the sale., and distribution was made to all according to their needs (Ac 4:34-35). It is the very gesture of him who "being rich became poor for you in order to enrich you with his poverty (2 Co 8:9). Church in which the Poor Evangelize Us This is another of the traits that characterize the church of the poor. St. John declares: Everyone who loves . . . knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love (1 Jn 4:7-8). But those who from their objective condition teach the church what true love of God, Christian love, consists in are the poor: If someone has material possessions and sees a brother in need and yet closes his heart to him, how can love of God dwell in him? My children, let us love not just with words, with our lips, but with actions and in truth (1 Jn 3:17-18). The poor reveal to us what the demands are of that love which, because it is Christian, seeks efficacy and a real change in the conditions of suffering and injustice of the poor. They makd us discover who God is: the one who takes the part of the orphan, 492 Review for Religious the widow, the stranger, the one who becomes their goeL They make us understand the Jesus who has compassion, who casts out demons, who looks with anger. They reveal to us the demons that must be cast out today, what the sin is that today stirs up the Lord's anger, what it is that today negates brotherhood, that kills our brother or sister. It is from the poor we must learn what grace means, grace that is manifested in powerlessness, that makes possible the impossible, that bursts in as pure gift. In short, they keep on making us discover the Gospel in a new dimension. On the other hand, if the poor are the privileged consignees of the good news of the kingdom, that means they must also be privileged in understanding and interpreting what that good news signi-fies. The Gospel is understood through the lens of the poor and from their per-spective. Therefore, it is in them before all else that the Spirit becomes present, From the poor we must learn what grace means, grace that is manifested in powerlessness, that makes possible the impossible, that bursts in as pure gift. and from there the Spirit speaks today to the church. There is a hierarchical magisterium in the church, but it only makes sense if it is rooted in the reality of those poor who make up the church's rank and file. The good shepherd's sheep follow him because "they know his voice" and "he knows his own sheep" (Jn 10:4, 14). The hierarchy of the church of the poor is a hierarchy of service, not of domination. It is a hierarchy that knows its sheep in dia-logue and solidarity, that is ai~tuned to their concrete needs, their sufferings, their longings. Precisely for this reason, because it can hear and understand the people's silent cry, it is able to speak with a language that is recognizable, and in the hierarchy's voice the poor find their life, their cause, their hope, their own voice. The theological reflection of the church of the poor is done from below also, tuning in to 'the awareness and the feelings of the poor. Those poor have had their voice taken away--within the church as well--for so long that they have forgotten how to speak and must learn, to express themselves; but they must increasingly acquire a voice within the church. And that voice must be heard, because in it is revealed the Spirit of Jesus that guides the church. Thus will arise a church where things are considered, struc-at~ dy-./lugust 1992 493 Moreno ¯ Church of tbe Poor tured, and carried out from the perspective of the poor. It is they who say how the institution should function, what new ministries are required for a better service, what ministries and functions they need so that they themselves may be active participants within the church's life. Church on Its Way We must not forget that this church of the poor is also a pil-grim church, a church that must keep forming itself through hard-ship and conflict. I am not referring now to conflict with the powers of the world; I am talking about the world and the sin that are still found within the church itself, about conflict that arises from the church's limitations and from different models of church. The church's unity--that unity for which Jesus died--is eschatological unity, a unity that will come about beyond the church itself as fundamental gift of the kingdom that will burst forth into fullness. The church has a mission to go on building that unity--which is universal brotherhood and sisterhood--by attacking at the root what keeps that unity from being realized. That is not achieved by denying the reality of the conflict, but by facing up to the lack of love and Folidarity that produces it. The mere existence of the poor exposes that lack of love and sol-idarity- which is why there will be protest, conflict, and division as long as there are poor--and it reminds us that salvation, the fullness of God's reign, has not yet arrived. The Religious Life in the Church of the Poor What place do we religious have within this church of the poor that I have just described? The religious life arises as protest against the values and struc-tures of the world. It arises as a search for what is radical in the Gospel, for the "one thing necessary" (Lk 10:42), which tends to be obscured in a church tempted to become worldly, to stop being the distinct event that it ought to be within the world. With its special form of Christian existence, religious life ought to be prophecy that points continually towards the church's true mean-ing and calls on it, not to settle down, but to seek ever to go for-ward. That is the eschatological meaning of the vows, as they show us a beyond that urgesus to transform the present. 494 Review for Religious But what is the natural place for religious life to flourish? Where is the root that makes our life radically evangelical? If what I have said about the church of the poor is true, then there is no doubt that the poor are the place par excellence where the reli-gious life should be located in order to carry out its charism of prophecy. In point of fact, the Spirit is stirring up a notable move-ment among religious towards a real and concrete insertion among the poor. From there the Spirit provides light for a reinterpreta-tion of religious life itself. The religious vows are seen before all else as ,consecration to the Christ who is poor and identified with the poor, as vows that consecrate by freeing us from fixity and exclusiveness so as to form Christians who are available for all and approachable by all, but with an availability and approacha-bility whose universalness is shown precisely in being dedicated by preference to the poor and effectively committed to their cause. It means being detached in order to go where the institution can scarcely reach because of the difficulty and poverty of the condi-tions. Jon Sobrino expresses it very well as a going to the desert, the periphery, the frontier: to the desert, where no one is, where no one wants to go; to the periphery, where everything is seen through the lens of the powerless (not to the center, where the powerful are, where things are seen from above); to the frontier, where risks are greater and the task is harder, where there are no trodden paths because no one has trod them and the walkways are made by walking. What better way to fulfill religious life's prophetic function within the church than to help it read the signs of the times from that insertion into the world and struggle of the poor? What bet-ter way than to point out the new paths that the Spirit of Jesus is having us discover through the poor, in whom that Spirit becomes so specially present? The challenge offered us is, how to bring this about? To what conversion does the Lord call us as religious within the church so that we may help it become increasingly a church of the poor? Notes 1 The Documents of Vatican H (New York: The America Press, 1966), pp. 23-24. 2 The 1968 Latin American bishops' assembly at Medell~n, Colombia. July-August 1992 495 ANNMARIE SANDERS Women Missioners amidst Violence efforts of two insurgency groups, drug lords, and a military that violates more human rights than the groups it seeks to suppress. Through the country more than sixty percent of the people are living in emergency zones, and a great deal of these areas have been placed under military control. Many of the towns have lost their leaders, doctors, teachers, and development workers and even their police. Often only Catholic church workers remain, the great majority of whom are women religious. The situation has called us who serve here to a new way of liv-ing and ministering among the people and to a new spirituality. Following Christ and living Christian values can no longer be done as in the past. The reality in which our spirituality is lived out is now radically different. In speaking with various foreign women missionaries through-out Peru, I see that we struggle with many of the same new chal-lenges, are asking ourselves the same questions, and are recognizing similar patterns in our lives of prayer and relation with God. Our situation is unique because of the state of the country in which we work. The complexity of problems plaguing Annmarie Sanders IHM, a member of her congregation's vocation and formation team, has been in Peru since March 1989, She also works as associate editor of Latinamerica Press/Noticias Aliadas. Her address is Apartado 18-0101 ; Lima, Peru. 496 Review for Religious Peru does not follow any pattern in the history of other nations, and thus we have no precedent to follow. To understand our questions, fears, and challenges, one must better understand the context of the violence we face. Peru's two terrorist groups, the Maoist Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path) and the Tupac Amaru Revolutionary Move-ment, hold as their primary goals the takeover of the country. So far their efforts since 1980 ¯ have resulted in 23,000 deaths, 5,000 disap-pearances and US$18 billion in economic damage. Sendero has declared its willingness to wade through a "river of blood" to expunge foreign influence in Peru and establish a peas-ant society. It rejects competition from the church, the state, and the private sector. The methods of the two groups include bombings, intimidations, blackmail, torture, and ruth-less murder. The terrorist groups are known to be linked with narco-traffic rings, and in return for the security which the terrorists provide coca traffickers, they receive an esti-mated $40 million a year. Although the current government of Although the terrorist problem has been present in the country for over a decade, only recently has the church been directly affected. President Albert Fujimori attempts to control the drug trafficking and terrorist situations, it also battles cholera, endemic corruption, frequent drought, eighty-percent underemployment, and a deep economic depression leaving 13 million of Peru's 22 million inhabitants in extreme poverty, a figure which has doubled in three years. The government must also contend with the Peruvian military and police forces, which, according to the Washington Office on Latin America, are among the worst violators of human rights in the hemisphere. The U.S. State Department's 1990 human-rights report notes "widespread credible reports of summary executions, arbitrary arrests, and torture and rape by the military, as well as less frequent reports of such abuses by the police." The United Nations Commission on Human Rights noted that in 1991, for the fourth consecutive year, Peru had the highest number of disap-pearances of all the countries in the world. Although the terrorist problem has been present in the coun-try for over a decade, only recently has the church been directly affected. Between the church and the terrorists there had existed .~dy-August 1992 497 Sanders ¯ Women Missioners amidst Violence an "understanding." Generally, when terrorists entered to take over a village, if church workers complied with terrorist expecta-tions they were left unharmed. The church work often had to be significantly curtailed,.'but the religious could remain as a presence to the people. The recent direct destruction of church projects and prop-erty; the deaths of Irene McCormack, an Australian Sister of St. Joseph, in Junin in May 1991 and of Zbigniew Strzalkowski and Michael Tomaszek, Polish Franciscan priests, and Alessandro Dordi Negroni, an Italian priest, in Chimbote in August 1991; and the attempted assassination in July 1991 in Chimbote of Miguel Company, a priest from Spain, changed the scene signif-icantly. More religious encountered terrorist demands that their works--especially food aid and development projects--be stopped, and many received direct threats on their lives. Rather suddenly priests and religious became direct terrorist targets. Sendero Luminoso proclaimed that the church was the enemy of the peo-ple and an obstacle to revolutionary triumph. As the Rev. Robert Gloisten, a U.S. missioner and a staff member of the Peruvian Episcopal Conference for Social Action, stated, "We have become a church under fire with no idea of what will happen day to day." For several years, denial of the serious-ness of the situation was possible. Life was carried on with a vague knowledge that terrorists were active in a few isolated areas; as long as their activity did not directly touch us, we could continue peacefully. Those days are past. ~ The level of awareness and acceptance of the reality of this sit-uation naturally differs for each person. Much depends on one's personal experiences. For example, Pittsburgh Sister of Mercy Rita Harasiuk, who works in the diocese of Chimbote, was jolted by the death of her three colleagues into a new view of the situation: Although I began seeing things differently with the attempted assassination of Miguel Company, it was really the deaths of the two Franciscans that affected me the most. The two, along with two mayors from nearby towns who were also killed, were laid out together in coffins--all open-- and one worse than the other. For some of us, it was the first time we had seen what a human body looked like after having been shot in the head with weapons designed to destroy and mutilate . When Sandro [Alessandro Dordi] was killed two weeks later, we could see that more killing might go on. That's when we really began to strug-gle with what our response to this situation should be. 498 Review for Religious For California native Teresa Avalos of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet, an incident directly involving her community played a significant role in making the situation more real for her and her sisters. In July 1991 a group of Sendero Luminoso ter-rorists entered Moho, where five of her community members lived and worked. They dynamited several buildings, executed six people, and ordered the townspeople to break into and ransack the convent. "This brought the fear of violence that is directed toward us much more into the open," Avalos said. Others of us have grown in our acceptance of the seriousness of the situation from our hearing such accounts by our colleagues. We stand in solidarity with them, aware that the problem is no longer isolated. An important task most of us have faced has been the admission of our feelings in the midst of such turmoil. Fear, nat-urally, is among the most common emotions, and, unfortunately, sometimes very difficult to accept and share with others. "We are all at different stages of being able to accept the real-ity, and some are still in a stage of denial," said California native Liane Delsuc of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur. "This leaves me often feeling alone and sometimes I don't want to share my fears because others don't feel them. I start to think--is it only me that feels this way? Does that mean I should leave? That I am not able to handle it? But I do not feel that is the case. So I look for people with whom I can more freely share because in sharing it I feel stronger and as if I can continue living this." The sharing has helped us understand the wide range of emo-tions we feel. "Reflecting with others enables me to sift through real fears and imaginary ones," said Pauline Maheux, an Edmonton, Canada, native of the Ursuline Sisters of the Chatham Union; "in sharing we help one another admit to our fears and face them." The emotions one feels get mixed up when one watches the sense-less killing and destruction of years of work. Feelings include shock and anger. Often what is hardest for us to accept is the distrust we now feel towards others since we know that we must be aware of terrorist infiltration into our parishes and workplaces. An important task most of us have faced has been the admission of our feelings in the midst of such turmoil. July-August 1992 499 Sanders ¯ Women Missioners amidst Violence Harasiuk received a shocking revelation of this after the funeral for the slain Franciscans. At the offertory two gifts were quietly brought in procession to the altar: the rope used to tie the hands of those killed and the blood-covered cardboard left on their bodies with messages from the assassins. "We later dis-covered that among the young people bringing the gifts to the altar were persons who belonged to Sendero." Our situation naturally causes us to reflect on death--that which we see around us as well as our own. "I think much more about the possibility of my own death," said French native Anna Ingett of the Sisters of Christian Education; "not that I think death will come in the next few days,,but I am more conscious of its nearness." Given this stark reality, we are constantly asking ourselves on personal, communal, local, diocesan, and national levels: How do we deal with this personally and how are we to respond as church workers? One of the greatest challenges we face is receiving accu-rate information about what is happening in the country. The media in Peru are severely restricted and often rely on third-party sources; great doubts remain. Although organizations such as the Religious Conference of Peru work hard to gather facts, the dis-semination of information is very difficult, given the lack many religious have of telephones and reliable mail service. Many reli-gious, however, felt aided by the Religious Conference's meet-ings and workshops on violence and also by programs dealing with situations and problems in the various dioceses. What seems most useful to us are open, honest dialogues with our community members and other religious working in our areas. Many of us have listened to the facts, tried to process our feelings, and then asked ourselves some hard questions: How much more of this can I take? Will I leave if one more religious or priest is killed? Can I live with this tension? Can I remain a sign of hope in what looks like an apparently hopeless situation? Once some sense of peace was reached about our presence here, we began reexamining why we are staying. Many of us, espe-cially those working the emergency zones, began looking at our work with very different eyes. "After the deaths here, most of us slowed down and started thinking, evaluating, praying, and talk-ing together about why we are here and what we should be doing," said Harasiuk, who has been working for ten years as a pastoral team member in Chimbote. She recalls a meeting of priests and 500 Revlew for Religious sisters where someone asked, "Do you think you should continue working as you have been?" Not one person said yes. Many pastoral workers have reduced their work to simple presence in their parishes. They no longer lead groups, distribute food and aid, or attempt to organize the people. They maintain a low profile and lead quiet lives of simple accompaniment. For Delsuc, who is principal in a Lima barrio of a Fe and Alegrfa School, one of forty-three institutes set up by the Jesuits to educate young people in Lima's shantytowns and in the provinces, the questions about work are many: "I wonder if we are presenting relevant, peaceful alterna-tives that will allow the people to respond with Christian values to the violence around them? I wonder if it would'be better not to be involved in a certain work and just live alongside the people? I wonder if our commit-ment to the people is valuable even if it brings death?" Many of our ques-tions must be left unanswered. But we recognize that simply by asking them we have allowed our lives to be changed. For many of us, before we could accept the change the situ-ation calls us to, we had to let go of the past. Harasiuk says that this was a common experience for the religious in Chimbote after the deaths. "Our grieving process was not just for persons, but for a whole way of life that is passing. This situation has taken away from us a freedo~n to move day and night without fear, to speak openly without worrying about what we say or to who~n we are talking." For Harasiuk this experience also helped her to evaluate her life and her activity and to decide what really matters. "So many of the things I had been involved in suddenly did not seem so important." Maheux, who has served as a pastoral worker for eight years in Chiclayo, had a similar experience. "The situation has enabled me to sift through what is of essence and what is truly insignifi-cant. Relationships have taken on profound meaning . . . to be nourished and cherished." The change in relationships extends for most of us also to I wonder if we are presenting relevant, peaceful alternatives that will allow the people to respond with Christian values to the violence around them ? j~t~-Aug'u~ 1992 501 Sanders ¯ Women Missioners amidst Violence our relation with God. Many have noted that prayer is more dif-ficult, little ecstasy is experienced, much more anger is expressed, fewer words are used, and often God becomes the scapegoat for all of Peru's problems. Christ, for many of us, reveals himself in new ways in Scripture. "I experience Christ more in his passion, where he ends up in the midst of violence, mistreatment, and ridicule but stands strong to his values and commitments," said Delsuc. Many seek a sense of consolation in their relation with God--an assurance that they are loved and that God is still in control. Many, feeling lost in the confusion of these times, turn to God as a source of wisdom. For Lia Finnerty, a Canadian Holy Cross sister working in Juli, prayer is now more integrally connected with what is hap-pening in the news and in her village. "My prayer is the time when I can try to integrate our reality with God's word and see how our community is touched by all that." That need to connect our prayer with the wider community and to pray with others is co,ninon among us. Many note that the desire for communal peti-tionary prayer is much stronger and that it is a helpful experi-ence to bring to God each day all that we see and experience each day. Ingett, who serves on a pastoral team in Sicuani, notes that her community's time of petitionary prayer is also a time for asking pardon for all that these women experience in their daily inter-action with the people. Living in the midst of so much violence and structural injustice has clearly revealed to many of us the anger and violence present within ourselves. "Sometimes it's so hard to hear that the police have attacked innocent victims or tortured young people," admitted Finnerty. "My first reaction is often a violent one, even though I want to be nonviolent." We all seem to struggle with the anger we feel and our desire to be compassionate, and we ask ourselves many questions about how we can be more nonviolent people. We are trying different approaches. Massachusetts native Carmen Foley, a Halifax Sister of Charity serving as a spiritual director in Lima, is looking at her interactions with others and her judgments and is trying to be more merciful in her attitudes. Avalos, a pastoral worker in a Lima barrio and formhr.vice-provincial of her congregation, is look-ing at violence in her speech and her reactions. Finnerty, a pastoral worker among the Aymara people, is returning to the Aymaran value of solidarity and community as a block to violence. Delsuc 502 Review for Religious is practicing communication techniques to become more skilled in conflict resolution. Probably most important for all of us, however, is an openness to learn from the Peruvian people, who seem to know better than any of us just what hope in the midst of crisis is all about. As Maheux concluded, "My greatest source of hope for the future is the women, men, and children with whom I live. Their faith-fulness to the daily struggle to just live--to being able to eat, to the one-day-at-a-time facing of tremendous obstacles--teaches me that justice, peace, and life will endure and win out." Coming Out one shall know as dawn disentangles morning from night if one's desert spell was purgation or vacation was awakening or escape when one emerges anointed in power or scorched and spent Andrea Wild OSF July-August 1992 503 ROY BOURGEOIS School of Terror write from the Federal prison in Tallahassee, Florida, where am serving a sixteen-month sentence for an act of civil dis-obedience to protest the training of Salvadoran soldiers on United States soil. As I look back, I feel my being here is no accident, but rather the result of God's grace at work in my life. Growing up in rural Louisiana, I was a Sunday Christian and gave little thought to issues of peace and justice. I studied geology in college with the hope of getting rich in the oil fields of South America. After college I became a naval officer and volunteered for duty in Vietnam, feeling it was. my patriotic duty to fight communism. There I met a missionary who, amid the war, gave me a vision of Jesus as a healer and peacemaker. I left Vietnam wanting to be a missionary and entered Maryknoll, whose work is in twenty-eight countries overseas and in the United States. I was ordained in 1972 and went to serve the poor of Bolivia. A slum on the outskirts of La Paz became my home for six years. In Bolivia, as in Vietnam, the poor became my teachers and challenged me to grow in my faith. I then returned to do educational work in the United States. My involvement with E1 Salvador began in 1980, after Archbishop Oscar Romero was gunned down at the altar and after four church women from the United States were raped and killed by Salvadoran soldiers. Two of the women, Maryknoll sisters Maura Clarke and Ita Ford, were friends of mine. Their death forced me to confront what was happening in this small Central American country. Roy Bourgeois MM writes that prison can be a good place to read Scripture, pray, and do ministry. His address is Register No. 01579-017; PMB 1000; Tallahassee, Florida 32301. 504 Review for Religious After several trips to E1 Salvador, it became clear that the problem was not "communism" or "subversion" but hunger. As is the case almost everywhere in Latin America, the wealth, power, and land of E1 Salvador are in the hands of an elite few. While these live in huge mansions where they are waited on by servants and enjoy frequent vacations and shopping sprees in the United States and Europe, most Salvadorans live in dehumanizing pover.ty and die before their time. The poor, once told that their suffering was the will of God, now know better as they gather in small groups to read and reflect on the word of God. They now real-ize that their poverty and suffering are the result of exploitation, greed, and irresponsible stew-ardship of God's creation. In May 1983, five hundred Salvadoran sol-diers arrived at Fort Benning, Georgia, to undergo U.S. Army training. At the time, I was speaking at churches and colleges in New Orleans about the injustice of U.S. military aid to E1 Salvador. I felt it was no time for business as usual, so I went to Columbus, Georgia, the home of Fort Benning, and began meeting with local residents. After two months of meet-ings, talks, and prayer vigils, three of us decided to enter Fort Benning at night, dressed as U.S. Army officers. Armed with a.high-powered cassette player, we climbed a tall pine tree near the barracks that housed the Salvadoran soldiers. At lights out, we tuned the cassette player to its highest volume and played Archbishop Romero's last homily, given in the cathedral the day before he was assassinated; in it he called on the military to stop the killing and lay down their arms. We were arrested, tried for criminal trespass ~and impersonating military officers, and sen-tenced to eighteen months' imprisonment. After serving my term I sought a few months of silence and solitude at. a Trappist monastery, then returned to the pulpit and classroom. On 16 November 1989 six Jesuit priests, their coworker, and her fifteen-year-old daughter were brutally murdered in E1 Salvador. According to a U.S. Congressional task force sent to El Salvador to investigate the massacre, five of the nine soldiers arrested for the slayings had been trained at Fort Benning. Today, hundreds of Salvadoran and other Latin American soldiers are being trained at Fort Benning's School of the Americas. The The problem was not "communism" or "subversion" bu t hunger. .y~dy-August 1992 505 Bourgeois ¯ Scbool of Terror School of the Americas (SOA) was located in Panama before mov-ing to Benning in 1984. Since 1946 this training ground for Latin American soldiers has quietly readied some 45,000 officers and enlisted men for right-wing Latin American governments. Manuel Noriega is a distinguished alumnus, as is General Hugo Banzer of Bolivia. In 1984, when the SOA was forced out of Panama, then Panamanian president Jorge Illueja described the school as "the biggest base of destabilization in Latin America." The foundation of the course work at the School of the Americas is low-intensity conflict (LIC), which, by military ana-lyst Michael Klare's definition, is "that amount of murder, muti-lation, torture, rape, and savagery that is sustainable without triggering widespread public disapproval at home." Students of LIC learn that the enemy is not just an opposing armed force; rather, the enemy can include anyone, armed or unarmed, who threatens the stability of the existing order. Hence, priests, teach-ers, health-care workers, union leaders, cooperative members, and human-rights advocates are among the victims of the School of the Americas. On 3 September 1990, ten of us--Vietnam veterans, Salva-dorans, a teacher, and members of the clergy--began a water-only fast at the entrance of Fort Benning to protest the training of' Salvadoran soldiers. When our fast ended after thirty-five days, our bodies were weak but our spirits remained strong. Miguel Cruz, a Salvadoran in our group who had been forced to leave his country because of a death threat, said, "We have the option to end our fast. However, the poor in my country do not. For them hunger is an everyday occurrence." On November 16, when we had recovered from the fast, three of us--Charles Liteky, a former army chaplain who had received the Medal of Honor for heroism in Vietnam; his brother Patrick, who had trained at Fort Benning's Infantry School, and I-- returned to Fort Benning to observe the first anniversary of the killing of the six Jesuits and the two women. After a prayer service, we entered the post, placed a white cross with photos of the eight martyrs at the entrance to the School of the Americas, and poured blood in one of the school's main halls. We wanted to impress on our country that we cannot wash our hands of the blood of inno-cent people killed in E1 Salvador by soldiers trained in the United States. We were arrested and tried. A jury found us guilty of dam- '506 Review for Religious aging government property. The Liteky brothers received six-month sentences, and I received sixteen months because of my previous conviction at Fort Benning in 1983. "Was it worth it?" I am often asked by friends and critics alike. Prison is hard and very lonely at times, even with the support of family and friends, who also suffer. My dad cried when I called home to tell him of my sentenc-ing. Yet I feel I did what my faith and the poor called me to do in the face of such violence, death, and suffering. As a Christian I feel I must try to relieve the suffering of the poor and integrate my faith in a loving God with action. It is indeed tragic what our silence did to the people of E1 Salvador over the past twelve years as our po!iticians fun-neled billions of dollars (hard-earned tax money) to a military regime that killed thousands of innocent people. ~ The recent peace accords in E1 Salvador now bring new hope, and it is a time for rebuilding after all the death and destruction. It is also a time for the hundreds of Salvadoran soldiers who continue their training at Fort Benning to go home--along with the troops from Guatemala, Honduras, Venezuela, Peru, Chile, Colombia, Bolivia, and other Latin American countries. I am convinced that we can relieve some of the suffering of the poor in Latin America by closing down the School of the Americas. It is a school of terror and should be shut down. While I am in prison, friends in Georgi~ are carrying on the peace-and-justice work. To learn more about our efforts, write to School of the Americas Watch; P.O. Box 3330; Columbus, Georgia 31903. Archbishop Romero said, "We who have a voice must speak for the voiceless." I pray and hope that we will speak clearly and boldly. As a Christian I feel I must try to relieve the suffering of the poor and integrate my faith in a loving God with action. j~dy-August 1992 507 M. GERARD NWAGWU Women Religious and the African Synod inculturating Following the initial enthusiasm with which our people welcomed Pope John Paul II's announcement of a special assembly for Africa of the Synod of Bishops,l an accom-modating attitude of tolerance for whatever might result from the event seems to have settled in. In such a frame of mind, any document coming from the synod will proba-bly be treated like any other Vatican document---it will be gratefully accepted and respectfully mentioned, but lit-tle else will follow. If, however, the document were to grow out of our experiences and be developed from our contributions, then its contents would have a better chance of being well received and more fully observed. The introductory chapter to the Lineamenta2 speaks of the period of preparation and celebration of the synod as the "tempus acceptabile," the favorable hour, the hour of Africa. This is the hour we have all waited for. It offers us a unique opportunity to bring about some of the changes and modifications religious life in Africa needs. It is a time for religious women in Africa to state our vision of commitment and involvement. This favorable hour con-tinues until the synod is actually celebrated and concluded, As part of this process it is important for us to raise issues and speak out about the problems that women religious encounter as they try to contribute to the work of evan-gelization in Africa. Indeed, for Africans this synod truly M. Gerard Nwagwu does much of her teaching at the Catholic Institute of West Africa; P.O. Box 499; Port Harcourt, Nigeria. 508 Review for Religious promises to be a "third Vatican Council" in what it could accom-plish for us. Consequently the initial period of intense preparation needs to be followed by a continued interest in the synod that fosters a receptive disposition of willingness to adopt its directives. The next generation of religious is likely to question how we made use of this opportunity, criticizing chances wasted and applauding those utilized. The older generation in their turn will be less critical insofar as they have never experienced such an event during their active days and therefore cannot be blamed for not effecting changes. Our contemporaries themselves could point accusing fingers at us if, for all our ideals and foresight, we achie~ced nothing when the circumstances were most opportune. Accepting facts as they are can be a mark of virtue on occa-sion. However, if we were to do that in the present situation, it would indicate complacency and inertia exactly when the action of working toward objectives that will benefit our people is demanded of us. Accepting the status quo just when the church calls us to make a move could indicate a cowardice and portray a fear of "launching out into the deep waters and laying out the nets for a catch," as Christ challenged the Apostles to do at a point when all hope seemed lost.3 We need an openness among ourselves to help us discover our weaknesses, our duties, and our obligations of evangelization--duties that the Code of Canon Law itself demands of religious in canons 211 and 758. Aware of these challenges, we can begin searching for an effective strategy. The Lineamenta presents a good number and variety of themes for our consideration. In any of these themes, the African reli-gious woman-has a role to play, not simply because she is an African or works in Africa, but because her religious life is directly intertwined with the life of the church. Vatican II witnessed to the fact that at no time in history has the church lacked some form of religious life.4 Religious life, in other words, is a con-stant and inseparable feature of the church. This universally his-toric fact is no different on African soil. However, it would take us too far afield to dwell on all of'the proposed themes as they relate to women religious in general. Rather let us consider those that focus strictly on the life of women religious in Africa, their apostolates, and their relationship with the world around them. Presently, most of the countries in Africa have celebrated the centenary of the arrival of the early Catholic missionaries. The few July-August 1992 509 Nwag-wu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod who have not will do so in the near future. Mmost everywhere the native indigenous clergy have assumed the direction of the particular churches, on both the diocesan and parish levels. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for all congregations of religious women in Africa.5 These factors and others highlight the growth of the church in Africa. Specifically, religious institutes are not left behind in the development. The momentous rise in the number of vocations to the religious life, especially in women's congregations, attests to this growth. Indeed the problem for many religious commu-nities is not so much trying to attract candidates but finding ways of adequately training and forming them in the spiritual and apos-tolic life. It is no wonder that foreign religious institutes endeavor to recruit girls from Africa to fill up their depleted ranks. Such recruiting, however, has been limited and conditioned by the authorities since it has often left a trail of disillusioned women who believed they were sent abroad for further studies, only to find that they were meant to supply domestic services. Though the road remains open for taking candidates abroad, yet some condi-tions must be fulfilled.6 The obvious growth of the church in Africa is one of the "signs of the times" that determine the form evangelization should assume in our midst. The evangelization that starts first with inte-rior conversion of hearts, matures to a personal witness of life, and finally develops into external commitments and service is the type that best suits the vocation of religious women. Before evan-gelizing others we must evangelize ourselves, for only after we have been converted can we support those around us.7 We shall be witnesses, yes, but only after an interior transformation of heart. Through such an authentic witness of the life of the evan-gelical counsels, we can make our own contribution to the new stage of evangelization required in Africa. With regard to reli-gious life, this first stage of evangelization involVes modeling to our people the values of total dedication and consecration to God with a hope of evoking a corresponding response from young women and men to embrace religious life. The second stage of renewed evangelization which suits our time is that of deepen-ing the faith of those who already believe and are baptized, We are already experiencing an influx of vocations, but how deep is their faith, how reliable is their commitment? Religious women, particularly, must ask probing questions, 510 Review for Religious admit the facts, and make worthwhile proposals. The point at issue is whether we realize that the effective contribution of women religious in the evangelization of Africa depends first on the genuine and generous commitments of our communities and second on the spiritual and apostolic formation we give our younger members. The vitality of religious life in Africa depends on these elements and on its being a true witness of the presence and love of God among our people. Such an objective compels us to examine some of the negative currents that undermine our abil-ity to evangelize our people in the manner referred to above. Primary among the negative currents is the wind of secularism that has blown through the world from the 1980s to the present day and has begun to register its presence in Africa. Some see it as materialism, others as atheistic humanism. Secularism, as Pope Paul VI has pointed out, views the world as entirely self-explanatory without any reference to God, who thus becomes unnecessary and is, as it were, an embarrassment. Secularism of this kind seeks to assert the power of humankind and leads to a situation in which God is ignored and denied.8 An allied expression is secularization. Where secularism is a theory and an ideology leading to denial of God, secularization is, instead, the fact and reality of experiencing life with a secular-ized mentality and attitude--that is, evaluating life from a worldly point of view. This, then, is the new form of atheism by which God is perceived to be less present, less necessary, less capable of providing a valid explanation of personal or social life experi-ences. In its undiluted form, secularization should not find a stronghold in Africa, given the characteristic spiritual vision of life within an African society wherein the divine permeates all aspects of life. However, what has invaded this sense of the sacred is the aftermath of secularization, revealed in such characteristics as superficiality, the desire for power and domination over others, autonomy and individualism, and a pleasure-loving orientation. Within our religious circles, when we lack an original experience of God and consequently fail to lead others to a similar experience, the evangelical counsels are confused or glossed over in various attempts to describe, them. We shall be witnesses only after an interior transformation of heart. j-~uly-August 1992 511 Nwag~u ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod Poverty is explained away in the tendency to acquire and accu-mulate in the name of the congregation; chastity in the necessity of having the comfort, convenience, and satisfaction of personal fulfillment; obedience in the assertion of autonomy and individ-uality as marks of our uniqueness and originality. In the maze of such ambiguity, the question for religious women to answer is whether at the present stage of their religious experience they can lay claim to preserving in full the religious sense and charac-ter of their consecration. Where secularization has made its mark, it is difficult to be a witness of the Gospel message. Secularism holds out to us the values of the world and urges us to conform; the Gospel offers us the mind and values of Christ. If we examine our situation and find out that our choices are secular in character, it is important for us to admit it, and so be able to discover what strategy to adopt con-cerning it. The type of choices we make and the attitudes we have clearly show whether we are evangelized at heart or not. On a secondary level the way we treat each other and the interpersonal regard we nurture in our communities would truly show if the Gospel values were operating among us. For when we continue to make discriminatory preferences between persons or congregations, then our witnessing cannot be anything but counterproductive to the task of evangelization. When we are carrying out a common objective, what should matter is the appre-ciation of a sister as a religious and the virtues she possesses for her to be entrusted with an undertaking which she will accomplish in the name of all, not whether she is a member of one congre-gation rather than another, or whether she has occupied a position of importance in her institute, or whether she has important con-nections, and so forth. Evangelizing witness on the community level is likely to be rendered nugatory as ~vell if, instead of the communion and unity which religious life signifies, we have the division and disunity of uncoordinated activity. The difficulties occasioned by lack of cooperation and coordination are most often seen between dif-ferent congregations rather than between members of the same institute. How often have we witnessed the complaints and dis-enchantment of institutes whose services are unceremoniously terminated in a place in favor of another institute--especially when the institute that takes up the apostolate in question may be completely ignorant of how the first institute left the scene! Such 512 Review for Religious a practice is exploitive and appears to be based on the availability of women religious. Apart from the circumstance related above in which two con-gregations of religious women are made to be victims at the same time, division of opinion among institutes is certainly a question that needs to be considered if the challenges of our times are to be adequately addressed. The church regards women religious as experts in communion both because of the communitarian quality of our consecration and because of our natural tendency to bond ourselves closely to oth-ers. Our best field of operation, therefore, is to work for unity and communion within our African church in all its various components. Women have a great capacity for personal adaptation in the face of the varied and often unexpected needs of the real life of societies and churches. We are thus often in a better position to ensure not merely the survival but even the development of evangelization.9 A determination to form deeper and stronger bonds of solidarity and sharing between our various institutes is the best way to confront the changing political, economic, and social conditions of our times. Such operative and meaningful solidarity will happen if various congregations are able to evolve while each institute retains its unique identity and character. As Pope Paul VI told us,'° we are missionaries to ourselves at this stage of the evangelization of Africa. We Africans are cat-echizing and witnessing t6 our own people in our home missions. We are also undertaking the evangelization of other African coun-tries outside our homeland--not overlooking, of course, the invaluable assistance offered by our foreign missionaries. Taking into account the greater number of women .religious, these foreign missions are mostly operated by religious sisters. We must ask ourselves, therefore, whether there exists a corresponding mis-sionary cooperation between the various religious congregations whose members labor on these foreign missions, or whether mis-sionaries carry along with them to the missions the lack of coop-eration and perhaps rivalry which possibly exists at home. We need to remember the call of John Paul II as he spoke about the problems facing evangelization in Africa: secularization has made its mark, it is difficult to be a witness of the Gospel message. July-August 1992 513 Nwagcvu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod Let all form one unity. Let everything be done to smooth and multiply the ways of mutual esteem, of fraternity, of collaboration. May anything that might be the cause of suf-ferings or casting aside, for one group or another, be ban-ished! May all be penetrated with sentiments of humility and of mutual service! For Christ! For the witness of the church! For the progress of evangelization!'~ With a unified front, we religious could more easily discover new approaches to problems that arise in the apostolate. These problems include the challenge of Islam and the determination of Muslims to spread the Koran from coast to coast by whatever means available. Carrying arms and matching violence with vio-lence is definitely not what the church expects religious women to accomplish in this regard. Neither is it possible to close our eyes and imagine that the friction and conflict with Muslims will even-tually ease off while we do nothing. We must, however, evaluate our strength and discover unobtrusive ways to reduce the threat of Islam for our people. In the face of such an offensive, the church has in the past usually adopted the practice of intensified prayer and a rigorous asceticism lived with generous hearts. Some apostolic religious institutes were founded to labor in countries of Islamic faith. But there are relatively few, if any, contemplative orders founded exclusively for the propagation of faith among Muslims. Such contemplative orders, which by their i~rayers, works of penance, and sacrifices labor to effect the conversion of souls, are crucial for the growth of Christian faith amidst the increased onslaught of Islamic hostility. It would be a welcome endeavor if the tendency our religious folk have to found new religious institutes is allowed to mature into communities that will pitch their tents among the Muslims of our country despite foreseeable opposition and even death. If such an inspiration of the Spirit were to happen, it would cer-tainly respond to the needs of the times. The challenge of Islam requires a radical religious decision. It calls for active institutes to reawaken their consciousness of the value and practice of the con-templative dimension of religious life. The Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes exhorts: The contemplative dimension is the real secret of renewal for every religious life. Being a reality of grace, it preserves in the religious the commitment to bear witness before the world to the primacy of a personal relationship with God. They can thus avoid the constant danger for apostolic work- 514 Review for Religious ers who often become so much involved in their work for the Lord as to forget the Lord ofalI work,~z Another area of concern is the proliferation of sects and evan-gelical movements. The increase in their adherents means that some other churches--the traditional Christian churches includ-ing the Catholic Church--are losing members. The sects usually direct their proselytizing toward those who are already Christians and offer them what they apparently cannot get from their mother churches. Again Paul VI sounded the alarm when he noted: It is well known that in some places the church in Africa runs the risk of the fidelity of its sons and daughters being subjected to dangers and struggles, and to being tempted by false teaching. Indeed, Christian faith must become some-thing interior like a personal possession of each individ-ual.' 3 In the face of such phenomena, congregations of women reli-gious can be of immense help to the church if they include this ground among their fields of apostolate for the second stage of evangelizing Africa. By identifying the reasons Christians are attracted to these sects and the group of Catholics that are easily influenced by them, they can develop a strategy for deepening the faith of those most affected. Often a shallow faith, which offers no reply to the vital questions of suffering and pain, poverty and misery, doubts and fears, insecurity and emptiness, sickness and death and so forth, is quickly abandoned for what seems a better way out of problems. Such defections occur where people seek a church that'proffers some human warmth and mutual con-cern, an experience the larger churches cannot easily provide.'4 Even if religious themselves do not minister directly to the sects and their adherents, they can train the Christian laity to assume their role of searching out and reevangelizing their brethren. Similarly, it is important to examine the variety of means of social communications available in order to determine the ones best suited for evangelization in Africa today. Every institute is able to evaluate the effect of each of the means on individual members and on the community. For while it is necessary to know what the world around us is saying through the media, we must not allow it to monopolize our attention and dictate our conver-sational exchanges. Growth in religious commitment does not follow from an indiscriminate and sometimes imprudent use of the mass media, or with the exaggerated and extroverted activism the 3~uly-August 1992 515 Nwag-wu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod media can generate, or with an atmosphere of dissipation which contradicts the deepest expectations of religious life. The search for intimacy with God needs silence, never involving noise and confusion.~s Presently, however, our discussion on the media is not how much we adopt them in our communities, but how well we use them for evangelization. Since the various means are each an effi-cacious tool for communication, the message of faith can be divulged to millions of our people at the same time with their aid. What prevents us, for example, from publishing a magazine that focuses on African religious life? Other Christian groups take the lead in the use of media while Catholics lag behind. Sacred songs and music on the thousands of audiocassettes that flood the market are ahnost always produced by Protestant evangelical groups. In the past there used to be a festival of the arts for Catholic schools. Now the competitions organized for parish choirs do not seem to generate the same interest. When an institute chooses to engage some of its members in apostolates using more contemporary methodologies, the initial difficulty will be lack of trained personnel. Requisite educational competence is important; however, some religious superiors are reluctant to send sisters for further studies that take time to com-plete and cause financial constraint, especially in the face of past disappointments. All the same, such reservation should give way before the conditions of our times and the needs of the church, which demand specialized training in some fields of study. No field of study can be superfluous if it furthers the mission of the institute. And since evangelization is a common mission for all, then adequate preparation is necessary for its realization. We cannot meet our contemporaries handicapped. For priests and religious to grow in requisite skills and maturity, it is essen-tial for them to receive the type of formation usually done in cen-ters of study at the university level or in institutes of higher studies. Specialized studies undertaken by religious should be prompted not by a misdirected desire for self-fulfillment with a view to achieving personal ends, but with the sole intention of meeting the apostolic commitments of the religious family itself in the context of the needs of the church.16 In view of the renewed call to evangelize, some significant changes may have to be made in the initial stages of formation. This sensitive area touches the autonomy and identity of insti- 516 Review for Religious tutes. Nevertheless, some general criteria may be adopted on the intercongregational level while the exact details can be left to the creativity of each institute. A rereading of the conciliar guide-lines for renewal shows that there is no question of simple adap-tations of certain external forms such as the habit. There is question, rather, of a deep edu-cation in attitude and in lifestyle that makes it possible to remain true to oneself even in the new forms of being present--a presence as con-secrated persons who seek the full conversion of people and of society to the ways of the Gospel through personal witness and service.~7 The challenges presented to religious women by the forthcoming synod will demand prayer, discipline, and sacrifice. It will not be easy to effect changes because part of the pattern of life and action we have grown used to will have to be renounced. Though renun-ciation may be spiritually rewarding, it is never gratifying to the ego. All the same, the changes need be made. The "signs of the times" are ripe and they offer us incentives to renew and revise our pattern of life and to give a preferential treatment to the duty of evangelization. The traditional ministries carried out in hospi-tals, schools, and social centers remain important, but their rel-evance in meeting the people of our times and engaging them in faith encounters has diminished. Women religious who are solidly founded in faith and suffi-ciently prepared and who can use their feminine qualities of devo-tion, refinement, faithfulness, and patience and their great capacity to adapt to the unexpected demands of real life can transform sit-uations which would intimidate others who lacked the weapons of faith and culture. In conclusion, let us remember the call of John Paul II and our obligation to respond to his invitation: We cannot meet our contemporaries handicapped. You have lived a first great stage, an irreversible stage. A new stage is open to you. It is no less an exalted one, even if it necessarily involves new trials, and perhaps the temp-tation of discouragement. It is the stage of perseverance, in which it is necessary to pursue the strengthening of the faith, the conversion in depth of souls and ways of life, so that they will correspond better and better to your sublime Christian vocation.18 July-August 1992 517 Nwag-wu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod Notes i The exact date for the synod has not been set, but observers do not expect it to take place before 1994 or 1993 at the earliest. ~" Lineamenta, General Secretariat of the Synod of Bishops, Vatican City, 1990. 3 Luke 5:4. 4 Lumen Gentium §44. s Some congregations of women religious still have nonindigenous administrative personnel. 6 This includes the establishment of a local community in the area, which in turn requires.that a diocesan bishop invite the institute in ques-tion to his diocese. 7 Luke 22:32. 8 Paul VI, Evangelii Nuntiandi, §55. 9 Sacred Congregation for the Evangelization of Peoples, Dans le Cadre, The Role of Women in Evangelization, in Vatican Council H Postconciliar Documents, vol. 2, p. 322. l0 Paul VI, Inaugural Session of SECAM, Kampala, 1969. llJohn Paul II, Address to Zairean Bishops 3 May 1980, in Origins 10, no. 1, p. 6. 12 SCRIS, La Plenaria, The Contemplative Dimension of Religious Life, January 1980, §§ 2, 4, and 30. 13 Paul VI, Address at the 4th Plenary Assembly of SECAM, September 1975. 14 Paul V-I, Evangelii Nuntiandi, §58. is SCRIS, La Plenaria, §14. 16 SCRIS, Mutuae Relationes, §31 and §26. ~7 SCRIS, La Scelte Evangeliche, On Religious and Human Development, January 1981, §32. is John Paul II, Address to Priests and Religious, Zaire, 1980. 518 Review for Religious JENNIFER MARY ALT Rerooting Religi ous Life in South Africa the dialogue has been to develop a religious-life spirituality that would be less foreign and more of a special flowering and inter-pretation of African human and spiritual values. These values encompass all of human life. The spiritual is never seen as apart from the material, and people are seen as depending on other people, and therefore on the Divine, for life and meaning. Outside of their social relationships, individuals are less than nothing. If religious life became better integrated with native African spiri-tual values, it would witness more clearly and bring greater hope to South Africa's strife-torn people. Religious life is not foreign to Africa. In fact, its cradle is to be found in North Africa in the early centuries of Christianity. Organized religious life took its conception from the life and work of the Desert Fathers and was rooted in the form of Christianity found among the rural tribal people of North Africa. This rural tribal Christian expression was eventually declared heretical and has since been known as the Donatist heresy.- St. Augustine, the well-known urban African, a man cut off from his Jennifer Mary Alt OP, a member of the Cabra Dominican Sisters, is director of the Catholic Centre for Spiritual Growth sponsored by the Southern African Catholic Bishops Conference. With her doctoral research in cross-cultural personality studies, she has worked with religious in developing an African religious spirituality. She may be addressed at the Catholic Centre for Human and Spiritual Growth; P.O. Box 53 505; Troyeville (JHB); 2139 South Africa. ~uly-August 1992 519 Alt . .Re~roo~ng Religious Life cultural roots, was chiefly responsible for the suppression of the Donatists. Early North African Christianity was predominantly rural. These rural Christians had been formed by their own primal reli-gion. This religion revolved around being in harmony with the spiritual in life. The Ancestors--important good people who had died and who then lived on in spirit in the living--were seen as important mediators of the spiritual. Life among humans was seen as essentially social, and people got their meaning and pur-pose from living and working in harmony with other people. To be in a group was part of life. Over fifteen hundred years separate us from these earlier times, and Africa south of the Sahara is in a different position today. Yet it too moves from a very strong primal religious back-ground. In parts of Africa, for instance South Africa, much of the primal past has disappeared, but the beauty of its spirit remains. Unless one pays attention to it, one will find it difficult to under-stand the modern movements in religious life in Africa. A primal outlook on life in terms of human values is'a profound way of looking at it. The work of the Divine is easily seen in it. The connectedness between this outlook and the teachings of Jesus is easy to recognize. Unfortunately, modern religious life has been presented in Africa south of the Sahara as something foreign and Western, as something that has nothing to do with African values. In fact, African values had to be somehow discarded as one entered a reli-gious order. Westerners find the intricacies of life in Africa very difficult to understand and, without ill will, have misjudged much of what they saw, dismissing it as primitive and pagan. It is exceedingly important for people entering religious life to realize the continuity between the values they were given in their families and the values outlined in their religious rule. African religious largely see religious life as divorced from their past, as something quite other. They see the rules and regula-tions of religious living as something totally new which has to be learned. Because of this the rules of religious life remain largely outside of them. The rules have little effect on their feelings and attitudes. The result is that religious life tends to lose its mean-ing and become more a drudgery than a life-giving program. There is a saying which is practically ubiquitous in Africa. It runs in South Africa: "People are made people through other 520 Review for Religious people." In Swahili a similar saying is: "I am, you are, and because you are, I am." This circular statement sums up the insight which Africans have about people depending on one another and the insight that without people the individual is nothing. This aware-ness of dependence and interdependence is a far cry from the individualism of the modern. Western outlook. Dependence on God is the source of all spir-ituality and is clearly discernible in the African outlook. Africa has a strong belief in the spiri-tual life. Death is seen not so much as an ending, but as a passing into a spiritual way of being. In Africa everything material has its spiritual equiv-alent. In fact, nothing exists without its spirit. It follows that religious life is seen as essentially for the purpose of bringing people into contact with the Divine in a special way. If this does not happen, then religious life for the individual tends to remain on a material and self-centered level. The religious vocation is a call to a special relationship with the spiritual realm. Religious with their vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience are marked as essentially different from others, for they are in a sense outside the primal group of family, clan, and nation. They live in an area of liminality in life and in this area make contact with the Divine. Everywhere in Africa the call to the spiritual is treated with great respect and reverence. The call is seen as mysterious and very important. It is not questioned. Take, for example, persons who discern that they are called to be a sangorna, to be one who understands the relationship between the material and the Divine and who is specially equipped to interpret rifts that occur between the human and the Divine, rifts that are seen as the cause of all mental and physical illness. Such calls will not be dismissed lightly, and people will undergo rigorous training to equip themselves for their special task as a sangoma. The religious call is seen in this context. It also comes from the Ancestors of the family, and therefore no one should interfere with it. The Ancestors will protect the person so called. Africans believe that when outstanding members of the family or the nation die, they join the living dead. They live on in spirit in another member of the family. As a human being casts a shadow, so each human in the flesh represents the spirit of an Ancestor. A parent 'People are made people through other people.' 3n-uly-Augus~ 1992 521 who first refused to allow a daughter to enter a convent remarked on her behavior: "I was fighting with the Ancestors." In Africa the spiritual revolves around the Ancestors, who mediate the Divine in life. The blessing of the Ancestors needs to be invoked in all circumstances. This ancient method of prayer might seem fundamentalist to a Western person, but it suits many people in the indigenous churches. They invoke God in all cir-cumstances: when getting up in the morning, at the beginning of all jobs--nothing, in fact, is done without prayer to the Ancestors. MI church services center on asking the Ancestors for blessing and healing of any rifts between the living dead and the humans in the flesh. Prayer then centers on the spirit of reverence and respect: through prayer, healing and forgiveness are brought to ordinary human relationships, and rifts with the Ancestors are healed. In this way the negative effects in our lives are resolved, and we become healthy again. Religious in this context are people who are especially moved by the spirit, in a charismatic sense. Prayer then is warm, spon-taneous, and real. But if religious life is seen by Africans as a bureaucratic organization in which material advantages follow the keeping of the rules, even though many of the rules may cen-ter on saying prayers; then it remains outside the person and will not lead to a true conversion of heart. Young people who enter often see a religious house as a house protected by God. They see religious as being protected by God, and the convent as a place of shelter from the storms of life; God will protect the people whom he has called. Many young people enter to be protected from the violence in the streets. Young girls come to escape being raped. Parents send children to convents in order to prevent .them from joining gangs. As people turn to sangomas (the spiritual healers) to protect themselves from the chaos around them, so they send their young girls to convents for the same protection. They feel that no evil can enter a reli-gious house. They also feel that God protects his religious from economic disaster. Young people and their parents see religious houses as places where people will be educated, fed, and housed; as places where the chaos of grinding poverty and ignorance will be kept at bay. Religious will be protected from thes~ material disasters. It is essential in these circumstances to help young people, through self-reflection, to an acceptance of their African values in 522 Review for Religious the light of the Gospel values. This helps to bring about a con-version of heart in which the person is moved to choose Jesus and break out into the wider world of other people and their needs. Young persons, in answering their call, answer it on behalf of their entire family and the Ancestors whom they embody in their life. Therefore, when young people join a religious order, they do not come as mere individuals with little significance. They come as deserving of great respect. They are not alienated people of no back-ground. They are not nobodies. God calls people through an entire network of relationships. Young religious who respond are responsible, therefore, for answering the call of the entire network. This gives the religious a great sense of sup-port and responsibility. To know that one bears the spirit of a beloved grandmother or grandfa-ther in one's life makes the path less precarious, less lonely, and more meaningful. Second, it gives the religious a great sense of dignity and worth. Religious need to respect their own call, and others must respect it too. Without this sense of reverence and respect, the young reli-gious fails to have any sense of liminality. Religious life then becomes more a question of obeying external laws which do not touch the heart and of obtaining an education. Instead of reli-gious life being a development or an exploration of the spiritual, it can become monotonous and meaningless. When the crises come, as come they must, the religious will not choose Jesus, but will make an easier, more selfish choice. A common saying in Africa expresses this lack of conviction and choice: "That person is a Christian by day and an African by night!" A difficulty inherent in the above outlook arises when a reli-gious wishes to leave the convent. Leaving is looked upon as a disaster: the religious loses her ties with God. Her relationship with him is broken. It is in the light of this broken relationship that all future troubles will be judged. The following example is typical: A young'sister left a religious congregation and then failed to pass her nursing examination. She moved to teaching and was equally unsuccessful. This was seen to be the result of leaving the convent, not the result of lack of sufficient talent. It is important to stress, therefore, that the divine call arises out of our baptismal God calls people through an entire network of relationships. j~ly-August 1992 523 Alt . Rerootin Reli "ous Life call. It is this call that must be answered, whether it is lived out in the context of religious life or not. In Africa, to be in a group is part of life. The richness of the human exchange in a community enriches the individual. The individual who is not included in this exchange is drained of life, so to speak. Group living is full of all that is human. Contentment, excitement, joy, happiness, and security are part of that living as are tensions, fears, suspicions, and disharmony. But the underly-ing attitudes of loyalty and respect can keep a group together through major emotional upheavals. In Africa, people truly live community. In the West, people tend to theorize and talk about community, but find it difficult to live it. Both lifestyles have their problems. In Africa, people are meant to live in harmony with one another and with the Ancestors. The individual is meant to enrich the lives of others and to be enriched in return. A religious group thatis not living a life filled With the Spirit will tend to exhibit the spirits of discord and chaos. In such close-knit and complex living together, the individual can feel very vul-nerable. Fear of one another, fear of authority figures, is a natural component of such living. Unless the group is living in the Spirit, fear instead of acceptance and warmth can dominate the group. Community life is held back by fear. Individuals will keep quiet at community meetings, for example. Many opinions which could build up a community are not stated. This can lead to seri-ous mistakes being made. Superiors can go unchallenged and do irresponsible things. Individuals who choose to live a life which is not in accordance with their vows are also left unchallenged because others are afraid to say anything. Those who have this fear feel humiliated and inferior; they grow depressed; in the end, tension shows itself as an illness. Such fear of disharmony, of expressing conflicting opinions, can cause great problems to social and group life in Africa. If disharmony and conflicts arise, the group tends to split and quickly polarize. This process is very evident in the histories of many of the African Independent Churches. African political leaders have generally chosen a one-party style of government in order to avoid disharmony. In so doing they have introduced a totalitarian system which in practice is marked by tribalism and greed. Modern urban societies demand that we learn to live with some disharmony and difference of opinion. In fact, differences of opin- 524 Review.for Religious ion can lead to positive growth, for without differences adaptation to changing times and circumstances cannot take place. In Africa the method of handling differences is for the entire group to°come together and to discuss fully the pros and cons of the different opinions. In these long conversations each person is listened to, and the conversation does not end until consensus is reached. This is like methods of conflict management in the West. The Gospel message of Jesus enhances and brings to fruition the message which Africa can give our world in terms of the interdependence of humans and their dependence on the Divine. The message of Jesus is close to the heart of the African experience of human living together. The message of the great religious founders like St. Benedict finds spontaneous resonance in Africa. The message of religious life, which strives to express the values of the Gospel of Jesus, is not much different from African value systems. The message of Jesus helps people choose less selfish values. In Africa, choices are made according to how a person feels. They tend to be made in terms of present time. A person might, there-fore, at one time choose some abstract Christian value and at another time choose against the same value. But people who are moved by the Spirit choose more responsibly. For instance, peo-ple might not feel like helping when help is needed, but if they are filled with the Spirit, they will go against that feeling and help nevertheless. Or, again, people may feel like getting revenge by not sharing, but if they are filled with the Spirit, they will share. The transcendent message of Jesus helps people to consider beyond this present moment. Christians need to think about the consequences of present actions: Would the future be better, more Christian, as a result of choices we might make now? Often enough, thoughtless pragmatic choices can bring immediate sat-isfaction in terms of money, goods, or pleasant feelings, but the long-term effects of these choices can be extremly destructive. Africa is full of examples of people who pragmatically and selfishly participated in their own destruction. Africans took part in the slave trade. African leaders have greedily plotted the economic ruin of the countries they govern. Tribal rural people have taken The message of Jesus is close to the heart of the African experience of human living together. AI~ o R~'ng Reli ~ou~ monetary handouts from the West, which have led to the destruc-tion of their way of life and to a dependency on further hand-outs. Other cultures can be less utilitarian and selfish by taking their heritage very seriously and protecting it. The Chinese, .Japanese, and Indians have not allowed Western materialism and individualism free access into their cultures, and they have been less enthusiastic in terms of cooperating with the West. Africa can be rather like Esau, who sold his birthright for a mess of pot-tage, because Africa does not appreciate the richness of its social and spiritual heritage for itself and for the world. The message of.jesus builds deeper trust. Christ has through his death and resurrection conquered death and despair. He is above all spirits. He is above all ancestors. There is no need for Christians to fear curses or sangomas or their neighbor. Life for Christians is secure because .jesus has already overcome the spirit of death and chaos. .Jesus speaks a message of love of one's neighbor and of one's enemy. Christians have to consider people who do not belong to their group or clan as nevertheless belonging to the family of .Jesus. Such "outsiders" are not objects, and they must be treated with love and respect. In this way the Christian message brings peace to the troubled area of ethnic and tribal violence--some-thing which has brought misery and death to many millions in Africa and has impoverished whole nations of people. If Christ's message is allowed to bring to fruition the values which the African people received from-God through the Ancestors, much that is unauthentic can be removed from African life even as its contact with the West increases. 526 Review for Religious ALBERT DI IANNI Religious Life and Religion Some recent discussions on "refounding" religious life in which I participated were passionate and at times ended in discord. Admittedly the groups involved were tired and overworked, but this was not the whole explanation. The heat manifested in exchanges about potential cures for the ills of contemporary religious life springs from a deeper source, from a basic disagreement about the nature of Christianity and of religion. When I first encountered the notion of"refounding" currently in vogue, I welcomed it as an improvement over "renewal" because it seemed to demand a deeper conver-sion and a more radical rebuilding. It brought to mind the Carmelite reform at the hands of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross through an inventive retrieval of the spirit and discipline of the founders. Refounding seemed to invite us to set out once again upon a religious adven-ture demanding both great sacrifice and an engagement with the world that remained in some way separate from the world. Resistance to the notion mounted, however, with the repeated calls to identify "change agents" in the group who might encourage creativity in ministry and develop alternative community lifestyles. The more speakers lim-ited their discussions to talk about "delivery systems" for Albert DiIanni SM serves as vicar general of the Society of Mary (Marist). His address is Via Messandro Poerio 63; 00152 Rome; Italy. living religiously ~-uly-dug~_st 1992 527 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion change, namely, leadership models derived from anthropology and from corporate-reflection techniques borrowed from busi-ness psychology--the more they discussed only means--the more I felt I was being bundled down some primrose path. Before I discuss means, I want to discuss goals; before I accept help to move forward, I want to determine where I, where we, should want to go. This is possibly because I suspect that I do not want to go where some speakers want to lead me or that their advice about means carries some hidden freight about goals with which I do not concur. In a recent conversation about refounding, I found myself suddenly compelled to ask some strange, basic questions, not about religious life but about religion: What, for you, constitutes the heart of the Christian religion? What is its basic meaning or purpose? What engenders religion in the first place? Such ques-tions came to mind because I suddenly realized that our dis-agreement lay at a deep level, that we could not simply assume we would all answer such fundamental questions in the same way. This was not because anyone had expressly denied any belief which I held, but becaus{ they seemed to deflect or sidestep cer-tain ideas as old-fashioned or not in line with the particular action steps being recommended. The urge to ask fundamental questions comes upon me espe-cially when I sense that religion is being reduced to sociology, psychology, or even to morality, be it personal, social, or ecolog-ical morality. In fact, any tendency to reduce religion to morality fires me up more than sociological or psychological reductions because it is more subtle and plausible and thus more seductive. But let me put my own cards on the table. What do I believe is at the heart of the Christian religion? (I will ignore the eso-teric distinction drawn by some between faith and religion and the theory that Christianity is not a religion but.a faith.) Though Christianity like other religions is an amalgam of many compo-nents, I believe that its strictly religious aspect lies in its being an answer to the experience of human contingency and the con-tingency of the world. Most people at some time in their lives have felt wonder that the world exists at all and have faced into the void of their own death. They moved beyond the taken-for-grant-edness of the world and became frightened by the thought that nothing at all might have existed and no possibility of anything. They wondered if there were an ultimate meaning to life or if 528 Review for Religious humans were but a sport of nature. Christianity's central doctrine is that the world need not have existed and that it was the object of creation by a good God. A Christian believer is convinced that at the center of the universe is not a surd but a personal Love. The philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein was not a believer. Norman Malcolm, his former student and biographer, says that he could not be called a religious person, but that he was passionately interested in religion and always seemed close to the possibility of religion. Wittgenstein once produced two examples of what he consid-ered bona fide religious experiences as opposed to moral or aesthetic ones. He respected them even if he thought that in entertaining them he was running up against the limits of language. One was the experi-ence of uncanniness that the world exists at all. The second was the conviction he some-times had that, whatever might happen, he would be safe. Neither of these experiences points of necessity to the existence of some transcen- The urge to ask fundamental questions comes upon me when I sense that religion is being reduced to sociology, psychology, or even to morality. dent reality, but they provide, the experiential ground from which many people move to affirm the existence of God. In such feelings and experiences, the affirmation that God exists is existentially grounded, becomes more than an intellectual proposition, takes root, finds a home. The first experience is the sense that a fleet-ing world must be rooted in a stable fundamental Reality. The second bespeaks a trust that cannot be explained without the pres-ence of a loving center of the universe. My own thoughts about religion center on experiences of this type. Admittedly my idea of religion has strong mystical over-tones; it is our response to radical contingency and, in its most primitive and deepest meaning, has little to do with morality. Religion refers primarily to a "holy" space out of which we and the world spring and gives rise to the imperative that each of us become holy, living our life in and for God. Beyond this I know that religion and morality are intimately intertwined and that a religious or holy person must also be morally good. One can hardly be holy and evil. Holiness means in part being extraordinarily kind, socially just, honest, temperate, a ~dy-Augvmt 1992 529 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion peacemaker. Yet it cannot be reduced to the practice of these moral virtues. For it is conceivable that someone could be morally good, could follow punctiliously the rules of a moral system, fos-ter social justice, be chaste and kind, and yet not be a religious per-son. He or she could be moral out of personal taste, by temperament, for aesthetic reasons, or out of natural sympathy toward others, and not because of his or her relationship to God. Philippa.Foot, an Oxford moral philosopher and avowed atheist, once told a seminar group that she was such a moral person and that she refused to be patronized by being called an "anonymous Christian." A Christian religious person not only acts morally, but also sees the world in a new way--that it is dependent for its very existence on a transcendent reality and that this makes all the dif-ference. Because it is focused upon the transcendent, the Christian vision has specific ethical implications different from Enlighteflment theories which place the human person or freedom at the center of the moral endeavor. For the Christian the pri-mary response to the world is not that of owner and Promethean creator, but of humble and obedient creature; not an entrepreneurial relishing of power and freedom, but a Marian gratitude before God for all that God has wrought. From this Christian gratitude is born the imperative to love God and God's creation, to allow God to express the divine mercy through us, especially toward the weak and the abandoned. This Christian gratitude and its ethical implications are nourished and deepened through a close union with God in prayer. It is this vision, it seems to me, which should be at the heart of the life of consecrated religious. If they are to be prophetic, it is in this: that in their lives they point constantly to the tran-scendent moment of the universe and try to develop what it means. It is up to each group to decide how it will express this. Christian meaning exists in--and is to be found in--religious sis-ters, brothers, and priests when they are rapt in contemplation of God as well as when they are picking up dying persons from the streets. When people see one of them unremittingly engaged in both, they believe they are in the presence of a saint. Some contemporary Catholic lay people and members of reli-gious congregations seem to have lost sight of the transcendent pole of Christianity. Their model of Christianity has become what Charles Davis labels "pragmatic." The pragmatic version of 530 Review for Religious Christianity arose, he says, when "the Christian religion ceased to function mythically as an overarching totality . The emphasis therefore shifted to Christianity as a practical way of life or eth-ical system. This is still conceived in religious terms, such as the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of God's children, the kingdom of righteousness . But all these expressions are different ways of formulating the moral imperatives gov-erning human existence." ~ Both conservatives and liberals have made this pragmatic shift in Christianity. Conservatives stress per-sonal and family morality and such questions as abortion and euthanasia, and progressives stress social justice, ecology, and women's rights. Future historians may judge that the Vatican itself, but to a lesser degree, has been drawn into what I am characterizing as an overemphasis of morality. They may well remember Pope John Paul II as the "morality pope" because of his repeated statements about both per-sonal and social morality. In practice if not in theory, love of neighbor and enemy seem to have taken precedence over con-cern about union with God. Today's heresies all seem to be moral heresies. Not many Catholics seem concerned about dogmas, about trinitarian, soteriological, or Christological errors. And yet the history of the early church reveals that this was not always so. (I am at times tempted to fashion a brand-new trinitarian heresy to spur people to think more about God and less about themselves!) In this excessive emphasis on morality, the modern church reflects our secularized times, the age that mistook the world for God. In the late sixties, a time noted for its air of revolution, our seminary faculty once gathered the seminarians for a discussion on the question: W'hat are the most important qualities for being a priest and religious today? Some suggested approachability, oth-ers learning and competence, still others kindness or some other human virtue. I was surprised that no one spoke of holiness--a sure candidate just ten years before--and I pointed this out to Someone could be morally good, could follow punctiliously the rules of a moral system, foster social justice, be chaste and kind, and yet not be a religious person. ~dy-August 1992 531 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion the group. One of the seminarians fixed me with a stare and said with an air of disdain: "Just be human, Father!" Recently I had the pleasure of interviewing Kiko ArgOello, the Spanish layman and artist who founded the Neo- Catechumenate movement, which offers a series of steps, a way, for modern Catholics to rediscover their baptism and be com-mitted to evangelization. I played the devil's advocate and asked whether his way (camino) of training lay people over a period of years did not produce an arrogant elite and end up creating more division than unity in parishes. His answer was in strict contrast to the seminarian's. He insisted that becoming a Christian today was not easy, regardless of what many priests trained since Vatican II seemed to believe. It did not suffice to simply shout the love slo-gan. Belief that God exists and that Jesus is in some way the son of God was difficult in a secularized culture. Besides, our world of drugs and violence, suburban adultery and abortion, euthana-sia and consumerism, was full of snares. It would not be suffi-cient simply to limit our preaching to a form of positive reinforcement. People had to be called to a public confession of their belief in God and Jesus, be brought to a felt need for con-version, be tested in their resolve, b~ supported by a tightly knit community, and be nourished by an adequate participative' liturgy. Needed, in his view, was a method, a way, a structure, a catechu-menate, 'to bring people squarely before their baptism and its implications for their lives. In so many words he was saying that it was simplistic for the 1968 seminarian to have said: "Just be human, Father." Yes, Christ is at work in the world wherever human good is being done, and we have to recognize and foster such work wher-ever we find it; but we must be aware, too, that fostering human-istic values and being a Christian are not in every way identical. Besides demanding that we be thoroughly moral, Christianity demands belief in many strange things, like the incarnation, the need for redemption, the resurrection, the presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, and the role of Mary. For a time in my adolescence, I wished I had been brought up neutral vis-~a-vis religion so that at the age of twenty-one I might consider all the major religions and choose among them without the prejudice of early Catholic training or brainwashing. But I know now that this is naive, for I have recognized that young people who have not been brought up in any religion end up by 532 Review for Religious having no religious sentiment or religiosity. They tend to remain religion-neutral, unable to make a choice in favor of any religion. George Lindbeck, a Protestant theologian, believes that, unless some religion is taught to us when we are young, unless we are brought up in some religious prac-tices, we might not even be capable of religious experience. This may be exaggerated, but I am sure it contains a grain of truth. One thing is certain: People are never brought up in a vac-uum of vision and values. If they do not absorb religious vision and val-ues, they absorb the secular vision and religion-neutral values of the movies and television. Especially in Europe several new lay Christian movements and reli-gious orders have been born in full awareness of this: the Focolarini, the Sant' Egidio community, the Neo- Catechumenate, the Lion of Juda, the Legionaries of Christ, and so forth. They all believe that becoming Christian in a secularized world is especially difficult and demands a way, a method, an entry through a kind of Christian subculture. It means leaving behind a lot of things that can seem very important from the world's point of view, but really are not. It demands kenosis, emptying oneself, in preparation for a radical decision in favor of Christ and God. Karl Rahner once declared: "A Christian in today's world will be a mys-tic or else he will not exist." And he went on to speak of mystagogy, the need of a method to lead people to see everything in God. I believe that one reason why religious congregations are in a mere survival situation today is that, in their admirable effort to take a positive view of the world, they have identified religion too strongly with a humanistic morality that tends to be secular-istic, individualistic, and overly egalitarian. History shows that almost all religious congregations enjoyed strong growth at their beginnings. They were exciting and attractive in part because they were new, but part of their attraction lay elsewhere. The early members had a sense of a religious adventure and cause larger than themselves which rendered them willing to forgo many personal rights and privileges.~They were members of what Besides demanding that we be thoroughly moral, Christianity demands belief in many strange things, like the incarnation, the need for redemption, the resurrection. July-August 1992 533 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion have been called "intentional" communities as opposed to various "associational" and "bureaucratic" ones that have come into exis-tence since Vatican II.2 They were quite unconcerned with self-expression and equality, not because they were naive and subservient (today's caricature), but because they were caught up in a higher religious vision that enhanced and focused their ener-gies for God and the church. Most religious congregations were founded for three main purposes, the salvation of the members, the salvation of others, and dedication to a devotion or a way of the apostolate. Their charism did not lie only in the third element but in all three. Their purposes were decidedly religious and eschatological as well as incarnational. Today the eschatological has been pushed aside by an incarnational theology interpreted too secularistically and humanistically. Transcendent themes have been toned down in favor of an emphasis on egalitarian rights, on a type of justice interpreted not only as equity but as evenness, a kind of unifor-mity without differences. Everyone knows that only in unity is strength. But egalitarianism, by its very definition, effects an atomism and separateness within a group inasmuch as it deems individual rights and desires more important than the group's religious cause and adventure. Such stress upon egalitarian and humanistic ideals is an ide-ology. It is one way--and only one way--of interpreting democ-racy and justice in society and in religious groups. To oppose that ideology is not to give up democracy but to give it another inter-pretation. This was brought home to me recently as I overheard a conversation between an Mnerican priest--a born-again egali-tarian- and a young female member of the lay Sant' Egidio com-munity in Rome.3 Describing how the community functioned, she mentioned that in her particular community, because of its makeup and history, only certain men and no women were asked to speak at the prayer services. The American priest objected that this was a grave error, that it was supremely important--as a sym-bol and sign to others if not for her personally--that women be allowed to preach in every community. She answered that the Sant' Egidio community did not approach questions ideologi-cally, but pragmatically. Some of the other communities did have women preachers, but because of its particular history and tal-ents, her group preferred not to have them and she was happy with things as they were. She explained that for the Sant' Egidio 534 Review for Religious group three things were of paramount importance: (1) prayer together over the word of God, (2) friendship or mutual support, and (3) work for and with the poor. All else must cede before the achievement of these goals. The American priest's voice rose as he insisted that she was wrong and that the American interpretation of women's rights was correct. But she stood her ground and deftly changed the sub-ject. We have come full circle. In the 1960s, after many years of repression and an exaggerated supernaturalism, we needed to stress personal free-dom and responsibility and a true equality among the races and sexes. We had to recognize our duty before God to take responsibility to build up a world of justice and peace. But this did.not mean that such concerns should come to prevail in reli-gious congregations and sweep all else away in their wake. Now that we have seen the shadow side of such emphases in religious life, we can bet-ter take stock and rediscover that our involvement with the world must begin beyond the world. While the psychological and political agendas were very important for religious life, neither of them was the "one thing necessary." Religious life should center upon that in Christianity which relates our lives to the transcendent. It is here that we must seek its prophecy. It is in reminding people of the divine enchant-ment of the world that it must be countercultural. It is upon this that reflection on refounding religious life must insist. In her arti-cle "Religious Life and the Need for Salt,''4 Joan Chittister asks the right questions regarding contemporary religious life. She wisely concludes that the project of encouraging self-expression in traditionally repressed religious has now been achieved. She says we must now move to questions about the group and how it can be prophetic in today's world. But her answers, giving her interpretation of prophecy, are still too much centered on ecology, social assistance, and human rights and thus, by remaining within a pragmatic model of Christianity, seem but another reiteration of the program of liberal politics. These liberal concerns are impor-tant and must be addressed by the church: the laity, the clergy, and the religious. But addressing such issues, in my opinion, is not going to be the salvation of religious life. Its problems do not 'A Christian in today's world will be a mystic or else he will not exist.' .July-August 1992 535 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Relig4on arise from a neglect of them. Religious lack, not moral outreach, but religious centering. They fail to realize what the poor them-selves realize and express in their popular religions, that our union with God through Jesus is central, that we must work at it, and that it is primarily in this that we will be countercultural. Which is more countercultural--to say we must strive to save planet earth or to say we truly believe that the dead are with God because Jesus rose from the dead and that this makes all the difference? I have made some hard remarks and asked some hard ques-tions, and I would welcome a dialogue about them. I am sure I have not expressed them adequately, but I am convinced that they contain at least a grain of truth. I am encouraged in uttering them by the swing of young people in both Europe and North America toward an interest in the mystical sense of religion. In the 1960s the young were caught up in the humanistic values of psychol-ogy and sociology, but today's youth exhibit a great interest in mysticism, religious cults and movements, apparitions and heal-ings, the afterlife; and even reincarnation and the satanic. Does this not indicate that they are experiencing a deep void of mean-ing in an anorexic and bulimic world where money, notoriety, power, individualism, and equality have become the primary val-ues? Does not this cultural change signal that secular humanism for all its ethical achievements has also been an impoverishment by reason of a dearth of religious imagination? Is it not a sign of the times when people living in sophisticated technological cul-tures begin to be attracted to religious beliefs interpreted in a most .simplistic fashion? I know the good responses to the distinction I draw within Christianity between morality and religion. Most will describe it as dualistic--for contemporary pundits the most damning of epi-thets. They will say, "You are separating things that are essen-tially linked." Love of God and love of neighbor are two aspects of the same thing. If you do not care for the person you see, how can you say you love the God you do not see? Those who love God should find their love's primary expression in their dedica-tion to caring for their neighbor, whether friend or enemy. Prayer is missionary and missionary activity is prayer--and on and on. Others will say that I give a false description of the present sit-uation of religious life; they will deny that those engaged in social justice and ecology tend to pray less and to be less interested in the transcendent, in sacraments, and in the eschatological. 536 Reviezv for Religious I know these rejoinders are partly true, but also that they are partly false. I know that the two aspects of Christianity, religion and morality, love of God and love of neighbor, are very closely intertwined, and I am aware of Karl Rahner's brilliant attempt to conjoin them.5 But I know too that they are conceptually distinct because I have seen them separated in the history of the church. At times the church has experienced the extreme of quietism, an overem-phasis on faith without good works, and other times the heresy of action, a hectic involvement in important works of justice and charity to the detriment of prayer and interiority, the soul of the apostolate. It is up to each of us to examine our life to determine where we are. But I am convinced that the problems of religious life stem only partly from a lack of adequate delivery systems and from ignorance about psychol-ogy, social systemics, and anthropo-logical models in an age of rapid change. I am convinced that their deeper source lies in the confusion between religion and morality and in an insistence upon moral-ity because of a loss of faith and interest in religion. If Christian religion is centered almost exclusively upon doing the moral good, upon promoting social justice and ecology, or upon fighting pornography and abortion, then what is the mean-ing of doctrines and dogmas? Are they but religious, accouter-ments? If so, why not be honest and simply drop them? What is the meaning of the redemption through Christ for a religion reduced to morality? What is the meaning of the Eucharist? Are these dogmas and sacraments only stimuli for action, stories and symbols subtly swaying us to do what is truly important: foster-ing the construction of a socially just and ecologically sound world, creating the. kingdom of morality? Is the resurrection just a story whose real cash value is all those smaller resurrections which can occur in a society, in history, or in each human life? How is a religious congregation which centers so strongly on morality to be differentiated from such groups as UNICEF or the Which is more countercultural - to say we must strive ~ to save planet earth or to say we truly believe that the dead are with God because Jesus rose from the dead and that this makes all the difference ? ~dy-Augzlst 1992 537 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion A life steeped in prayer will produce something we may have lost: a solid number of holy men and women whose life clearly is centered on God. FAO wherein men and women devote themselves to humanitarian causes at times for wages far lower than they could obtain else-where? I know that, since Vatican II, theologians including Rahner and Schillebeeckx have highlighted the thesis that Christ is at work in the world wherever good is. being done and humane causes are fostered. I am acquainted with the theories that the work of building up the kingdom of God is primarily a matter of our present life in the world, that salvation is not only after death but begins here, that the glory of God is man and woman fully alive. I am in sympathy with such emphases, but must also admit that they do not set me on fire; and judging from the vocation statistics of "progressive" congregations, I know that they have not stirred the young. For in my heart I suspect that such emphases are quite incomplete and were (in part) born of a loss of faith in the transcendent. For me Christianity centers not on us but on God. It demands a different vision of the world and reality, which generates a humble gratitude to the God who is responsible for all that is. One of Christianity's concerns is our inborn tendency to distort our freedom, arising from what Luther called the "in-curvedness" of our will. Christianity is about God and sin and the need for God's grace-ful hand to help us make proper use of our freedom. Christian religion must be about God and our relationship with God not only implicitly but also explicitly. It is from a union with God in prayer that light will emanate on how we are to relate to God, the world, and each other. And if a life is to be devoted to religion in a special way, if it is to be a consecrated religious life, it must be lived primarily in view of this relationship to God, not only in ideal but also in structure. It must be structured in such a way that the life of,the group abets in its members this concern about each one's relationship to God and gives witness of it to others. Such a life steeped in prayer will produce something we may have lost: a solid number of holy men and women whose life clearly is centered on God. If this proves true, young people will surely again be attracted to this kind of life, not so much because 538 Review for Religious it is relevant or more interesting than the world, but simply because religious life so construed and so lived is what it purports to be--religious. Notes ~ What is Living, What is Dead in Christianity Today? (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1986), p. 39. -' See Patricia Wittberg SC, Creating a Future for Religious Life (New York: Paulist Press, 1991

Issue 47.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1988. ; R~vw.w ~:oR R~L~C~ff)us (ISSN 0034-639X). published every two months, is ediled in collaboration with lhe facuhy members of the Dcpartmcnl of Theological Studies of St. U)uis University. The edito-rial offices are located a~ Room 428:3601 Lindcll Blvd.: St. [~uis, Me. 63108-3393. R~v~w R~a.ffm~us is owned by the Missouri Province Educalional lnslilule of the Sociely of Jesus, St. [~uis, Me. 01988 by R~v~w FO~ R~JG~OUS. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $12.00 a year: $22.00 for two years. Other countries: add $5.00 per year (surface mail); airmail (Book Rale): $20.00 per year. For subsc~iptioh orders ur change uf address, write: REVIEW ~'o~ RELIt;IOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read M. Anne Maskey, O.S.F. Acting Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors JanuarylFebruary, 1988 Volume 47 Number I Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor shuuld be sent to R~:wt:w FOa R~:L[t:mus; Ruom 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence abuut the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave., Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be urde'red frum Rt:\'~t:w voa Rt:L~t;n~us; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. A major pnrtion of each issue is also available on cassette recurdings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New Yurk, NY 10010. Review for Religious Volume 47, 1988 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read M. Anne Maskey, O.S.F. Acting Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Septem-ber, and November on the twentieth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Mi-crofilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48 ! 06. Copyright© 1988 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. A major portion of each issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is also regu-larly available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually im-paired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. The Consecrated Lives of Apostolic Religious Today Mary Linscott, S.N.D. Sister Mary is on the staff of the Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes (CRIS), specializing in the area of constitutions and general chapters. Her previous contri-bution to these pages was "The Service of Religious Authority: Reflections on Gov-ernment in the Revision of Constitutions." Sister Mary resides at her motherhouse, Suore di Nostra Signora di Namur; Largo Berechet, 4; 00152, Roma, Italy. When a group of sisters came to my office recently to discuss a theme for a presentation, we had little difficulty in finding one, and the focus seemed to sharpen almost of its own accord. The topic of religious con-secration was an evident subject for at lea~t three main reasons: I) its in-trinsic importance; 2) its importance in renewal; 3) its importance as be-ing at the heart of much of the crisis in religious life since the Second Vatican Council. It is also the key to future development. We concentrated on the consecration of religious, and more espe-cially of sisters whose institutes, are dedicated to works of the apostolate. We assumed as a starting point, that all religious of whatever style of life are both contemplative and apostolic by the fact of their vocation and profession. They express the contemplation and the apostolic effective-ness differently in accordance with the founding gift of their institutes or of the branch of the institute to which they belong, but the dimensions of contemplation and of apostolate are common to all. Having agreed on this, we addressed ourselves to those religious who express their contem-plation and apostolate in an active dedication to works of mission. For the sake of brevity, we called them apostolic religious. 3 4 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 Three lines0of thought emerged: 1) the challenge to sisters of apos-tolic life twenty years after the Second Vatican Council; 2) consecration as the heart of apostolic religious life; 3) living that consecration in the Church today. The Challenge to Apostolic Religious Twenty Years After Vatican II A Matter of Identity The challenge facing many apostolic religious is a matter of identity. The fruitful period for the foundation of religious congregations of sis-ters dedicated to apostolic works was approximately from the end of the French Revolution to the first third of the present century. Emigration, the exploration of new continents, the consequent expansion of the Church, the needs created by the industrial revolution, and the political and social developments of the nineteenth century, all called for a Chris-tian service inspired by the works of mercy. The need was met largely and often heroically by institutes of sisters who responded to the call and founding gift of God by undertaking works which expressed the grace ,' he gave: works of education, health care, social rescue, pastoral serv-ice. At that time, few other people were concerned about these areas of need. The sisters were identified, exteriorly at least, by their works, their dress, their convents, their mode of life. They were easily recognized, usually respected, and sometimes put on a pedestal. But whatever the re-action to them, their own identity was secure. They knew what they were about and what they had come to do. Their future seemed predictable, and a young woman presenting herself as a postulant could have a rea-sonable expectation of what her life of serv.ice would be like. The fact that security of works has changed is a natural historical de-velopment. Evolution is necessary and inevitable. Some religious who identified their vocation with what they were doing, certainly had a cri-sis over this. But even the extraordinarily rapid rate of change which has marked the evolution of apostolic works in the past thirty years, was not enough in itself to challenge the religious of apostolic life as they have been challenged since 1966. The issues are deeper. Two great insights of Vatican 1I have had a profound effect on the sense of identity of the apostolic religious: the universal call to holiness, stated in Lumen Gentium, chapter 5, numbers 39-42, and the criteria for renewal of religious life, ~;tated in Perfectae Caritatis, number 2. The universal call to holiness blurred the traditional notion of religious life as a state of perfection, and the criteria for renewal sent religious back to the gospel, .the primitive inspiration of their institute and the changed Consecrated Apostolic Lives conditions of our times with unexpected results. Let us look briefly at these two insights of the Council since they have both obliged sisters of apostolic life to go tothe roots of their identity and to find these in their religious consecration. The Universal Call to Holiness Originally chapters 5 and 6. of Lumen Gentium were conceived as a single entity so that the universal call to holiness actually did embrace all the members of the Church with no chapter distinction between laity and religious. Even in the present separated presentation, the thought of the two chapters is unified and continuous. Lumen Gentium sees~the Church as the people of God, chapter II) hierarchical (chapter III) lay (chapter IV) and called to holiness (chapters V and VI). The Code of Canon Law follows approximately the same pattern, dealing first with Christ's Faithful and then with the hierarchy and institutes of consecrated life. The decree on the Apostolate of Lay People (Apostolicam Actuosi-tatem, 18, XI 1965) develops much more richly the role of the laity in the Church, and Gaudium et Spes opens.up clearly and strongly, the enor-mous role that is theirs precisely because of the call to holiness. The emer-gence of the laity is the logical fruit of chapter 5 of Lumen Gentium ~nd it is not surprising that some of the best writing in preparatio.n for the coming Synod on "the vocation and mission of the laity in the Church and in the world twenty years after the Second Vatican Council" uses terms that a few decades ago would have been thought proper to relig-ious. The concept of the laity as the people of God and the exploration of the depths of, baptismal consecration havebeen slow to leaven the think-ing of the Church and, like all great truths, may have been liable to ex-agg,~ ration in the process. There has been error both by defect and by excess. One school of thought has argued that, if all are called to holi-ness, no way of life is in itself more holy than another; baptism is every-thing, and there is no consecration~beyond that of baptism. Th~is would cut the ground from under all forms of what the Church specifically calls '"consecrated life." Another school of thought has taken the line that, if all are called to holiness, then all, in some obscure way, are called to echo or model the way of life long recognized in the Church as a ~'state of perfection." This confuses the style of life with the substance of ho-liness and moreover does not do justice to number 31 of Lumen Gentium which insists that "their secular character is proper and peculiar to the laity." 6 Review for Religious, January-February 1988 In practice, a remarkable renewal of the laity is actually going on. This is not simply a matter of effective lay movements such as St. Egidio, i'Arche, the Focolarini, the neo-catechumenates and charismatic groups, all of which are especially attractive to young people, but also of a ground swell in favor of the laity. There is a quality of spirituality, of mission, of responsibility in the Church, of active participation that was not known before the Council l Whereas formerly the lay person was identified negatively as one who is not a c!eric or a religious now the nega-tive description is complemented by something much more positive; the laity are "the faithful who by baptism are incorporated into Christ, are placed in the.People of God, and in their own way share in the priestly, prophetic~.and kingly office of Christ, and to the best of their ability carry. on the mission Of the whole Christian people in the Church and in the world" Lumen Gentium .31). The sense of identity is much surer, and it is very clear that one does not have to be a religious to be called to holiness, .to be in .mission in the Church and to be responsible for many of the things that religiOus of apostolic life have done since their foun-dation. This has been a challenge.for many. if all are called to holiness and our work can be done by others, why be a religious? Some Effects of Renewal At the same time as the movement connected with the laity, there has been the parallel movement for the renewal of religious life. Perfe~tae Caritatis (n. 2) called for a renewal and an adaptation of religious insti-tutes in the changed conditions of our times. It is a matter of history that the adaptation, which was the easier and the more evident of the two un-dertakings, happened with great rapidity. In some cases it took place be-fore the implications of true renewal were grasped. In many instances it was not so much an adaptation as a complete transformation which moved an institute away from the expression of its founding gift that had been visible, identifiable and a lived tradition. Adaptation was necessary but the Council assumed an adaptation resulting from and in conformity with the renewal of basic values in religious life. Renewal was to, give a focus to the adaptation~ and criteria of discernment to guide it. With-out such parameters, the attempt to be one with the changed and chang-ing conditions of our times could only involve religious in an endless spi: ral of charige to the point where their identity would no longer be in them-selves but in their conformity to current conditions. The ada.ptations of the past twenty years have gone very far. In a re-action to being identified by their works, many institutes in the early 70s Consecrated Apostolic Lives / 7' laid a heavy emphasis on being rather than on doing. Then a counterac-tion, stressing the idea of mission without adequately defining it, moved back to doing, although this was expressed in new terms, often with a strong social emphasis.~ The shifts were evident in most aspects of apos-tolic religiouslife: There was a far more immediate insertion into soci-ety than .in the past: an active presence and outreach characterized by soli-darity with and preferential option for the poor, the oppressed and the marginalized. The types of work done, while not giving up the traditional health, educational and pastoral services where these remained neces-sary, included a wide variety of new ministries, often in the fields of hu-man promotion and some times of socio-political involvement. Forms of community changed. There were fewer large, institution-like convents but a multiplication of small, loosely structured, inconspicuous resi-dences with a relatively short life span. Structures of government cailed for participation and shared responsibility. Prayer had to be adapted to the new forms of life and work and often became largely individual. For-mation was sometimes uncertain because the life itself was not clear. Too much was left to the Choice of the person entering. The dramatic reduc-tion in numbers posed a problem in itself, and there was a lack of confi-dence on the part of many sisters with regard to their own future. Unless there was a strong grasp of the root values of religious life and a genuine renewal of these, the adaptations of the late 60s and 70s could bri.ng sisters to the point of asking serious questions about their idi~n-tity as religious. The crisis was sharper for sisters of apostolic life since their apostolates brought them into close contact with the crisis that the Church was living at the same time in her effort to be open to the world and be a Church of the poor. Those same apostolates also brought to-gether the sisters and the laity. More than one religious asked: what is the difference between me, who am a sister of apostolic life, and my sis-ter at home, who is a professional Christian laywoman?'It is not prayer; it is not work; in many cases it is not dress; it is not home conditions or lifestyle. The question: "why be a religious?" was being posed from adifferent angle. Some sisters left religious life because they could not answer it with any degree of integrity. Convinced that all share the same call to holiness, the same baptismal consecration, that all take part in the same mission of Christ, that we build the same body of Christ in the com-munion of the Church, that we are all members of the priestly, prophetic and royal People of God, and not seeing much evident difference in the works by whi(h religious and laity express all this, these sisters virtu-ally asked whether there was a difference at all. I~ / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 This is the crux of many a vocation crisis for apostolic religious. The answer in individual cases is never easy because the question itself im-plies that there is already doubt and insecurity. The important thing is the basis on which the doubt and insecurity are met. Two points matter. One is to su[gport and encourage all that is said of the dignity and great-ness of the lay vocation. Religious do not find their own identity at the expense of the laity or by playing down the-laity. On the contrary. The stronger and greater the lay vocation, the more it can help religious to develop their own, and all that the laity have by baptism is also the basis of'the Christian life of.the religious. The second point is to make the ques~ tion concrete and positive. In one sense: "How are we different?" is the wrong question if it is a defensive attempt to fix on what separates us. We should rather ask: "What is it that makes us religious? What does it commit us to? How do we live it?" Many sisters who, possibly could not put that essential specification into words are yet s~ufficiently con-vinced to give their lives because of it--and that speaks for itself. When we do try to put it into wgrds, it comes to the Christian call to holiness and to union with Christ in mission in the Church expressed, not in secu-larity as is the case with the laity, and not through ordination as is the case with the c.lergy, but through religious consecration: a consecration of the whole person which is a new expression of baptism and which is effected by public vows accepted by the Church and made in commu-nity. Our identity, our raison d'etre, our place in the Church have their roots in our religious consecration. For many of us this consecration is specifically apostolic. Consecration The Nature of Our Apostolic Consecration The new Code of Canon Law is very clear that consecration is the basis and specific characteristic of our life as religious, and it has two fine a~ticles to this effect. The first is canon 573.1 which says: "Life consecrated through the profession of the evangelical counsels is a sta-ble form of living in which the faithful follow Christ more closely under the action of the Holy Spirit and are totally dedicated to God who is su-premely loved. By a new and special title they are dedicated to seek the perfection of charity in the service of God's kingdom, for the honor of God, the building up of the Church and the salvation of the world. They are a splendid sign in the Church, foretelling the glory of heaven." The second is canon 607. I: "Religious life, being a consecration of the whole person, shows forth in the Church the marvelous marriage established Consecrated Apostolic Lives by God as a sign of the world to come. Religious by their consecration consummate a full gift of themselves as a sacrifice offered to God,. so that their whole existence becomes a continuous worship of him in love." All the important elements are there: the reality of a consecra-tion to God which takes the whole of life; the rootedness in baptism; the newness; the response of love to the love of God which calls to a rela-tion which is mutual gift like marriage; the commitment to a personal fol-lowing of Christ more closely; the form of the consecration which is by public vows; its public nature; the ecclesial dimension which is in the Church and for the building up of the Church; the stability and specific-ity; and the fact that it is for others: a witness to.the fact of God, of heaven, of the reality of the invisible things of faith that is for the good of all God's people. For us, sisters of apostolic life, there are two other very important articles: canon 673 which states that the apostolate of all religious consists primarily in the witness of their consecrated life and canon 675 which makes clear that, for institutes dedicated to apostolic works, apostolic action is of the very nature of the consecration. Such action is to come from union with God. It is to confirm and foster this union and is to be exercised in the name of the Church and in commun-ion with her. Let us look at some of these ~lements more closely. . Consecration involves, at least implicitly, choice by God and the dou-ble idea of separation for him and dedication to him. In the Old Testa-ment, it came to mean a declaring sacred, a setting aside a reserving or separating out for God which recognized his holiness. In the case of per-sons, Yahweh himself consecrated as, for example, in the wonderful call of Jeremiah (Jr 1:5) whom he foreknew, loved, called and set aside for his ~own service even before he was born. In the new dispensation, Jesus is consecrated and sent (Jn 10:36): "For them do I consecrate myself" (Jn 17:!9). His Church is a consecrated nation, "a people set apart to sing the praises of God" (1 P 2:9). From this consecrated nation God° freely chooses and calls certain ones, as he did the prophets and apos-tles, to live their sharing in his covenant in a way which involves a fur-ther or new consecration. This may be sacramental, in the case of priests; secular, in the case of members of secular institut+s; religious, when it is made through religious profession. In each case it is an unmerited gift of God which, like love, cannot be rationalized. It is something that God works in us and to which we respond. The woman called to be a relig-ious is invited by the Father to a closer following of his Son, is given a particular intimacy with the Lord and is transformed by the Spirit in a-unique relationship of love given and love returned consciously, freely, Review for Religious, January-February 1988 totally. She is separated for and dedicated to this and she gives her life to it in joyful hope and gratitude. She finds in it the inexhaustible source of her own growth in holiness and of her effectiveness and fruitfulness at the service of others. Such a consecration is deeply rooted in baptism and is a fuller ex-pression of the baptismal commitment. Baptism, by which we receive the fruits of the redemption in Christian initiation, establishes a relation with God which is trinitarian and ecclesial. Any further bond with God will be marked by the same characteristics. It can only develop further the relationship of baptism. That is why religious consecration is a dedi-cation; not to the following of Christ to Which we are already bound by baptism, but to the closer following; not to the love of God and neigh-bor because that is already contained in baptism, but to God supremely loved and to service as a pledge for life; not to being Church because we are already fully members of the Church by baptism, but to taking that particular place and role in the Church which are indicated by our religious profession. The consecration is rooted in baptism yet it is new. It is not given to all the baptized and is not an automatic consequence of baptism. It is new because it binds us to new dimensions of the bap-tismal consecration. It is new because it is made with awareness and choice; new as a response of love to a particular call; new because it com-mits us to constant ongoing conversion; new because it constitutes a new iife for God in Jesus Christ (see Redemptionis Donum, n. 7). This new consecration has a particular character: it is marked by a love that is mutual gift--the love of choice and self-giving which is the 10ve of one spouse for another. The Code of Canon Law chooses the im-age of "the marriage established by God as a sign of the world to come" as its description of religious life. From the depth of the love of Jesus comes the call'to Consecration, and this saving call by God's grace, as- -sumes in the depth of the person called, the actual form of profession of the evangelical counsels. ~In this form is contained the answer of the religious to the call of Christ's love: a love of self-giving responding to the divine self-giving. This is the heart of religious consecration: a mu-tual surrender of love which embraces the whole person. The words of Isaiah: "I have redeemed you, you are mine" (Is 43: I), seem precisely to seal this love which is a love of total and exclusive consecration to God. However, mysterious as it is from many points of view, religious con-secration is no abstraction. It involves a particular way of life here and now in a form approved by the Church. Of its very nature such-a way Consecrated Apostolic Lives of life wiil include prayer, mission, service and communion with others who have the same consecration in a particular religious family. It is in a down-to-earth community, in the Church and world as they are today, and in accordance with a specific set of approved constitutions in a given institute that we live our religious consecration. Moreover, consecration takes place through the profession of public vows. The vows are public by their nature and they pledge those who make them to a fraternal life in common (see can. 607). Not only do they set apart and dedicate the consecrated person to God but, as a chief means of fostering this new relationship, they incorporate the person into a religious institute which has its own law and which encourages growth in consecration in its own way. We sometimes talk about religious consecration generically but, as a matter of fact, it is always both specific and concrete. There is no such thing as vows made in general. They must be according to the constitu- .tions of a given institute. In their turn, the constitutions express the found-ing gift given by God to a person or group: Francis, Dominic, the seven founders of the Servites, Mary Euphrasia Pelletier, or Julie Billiart. Each of these lived their own consecration in a way which attracted others, and the institutes which they brought into being are channels for the'~work of the Holy Spirit continuing the gift of God in later generations. Fidel-ity to the identity which is rooted in the gift of God is, therefore, of high importance to any institute. It is transmitted through the consecrated lives of the members and through the consecration of new members, for the consecration itself reflects something of the specific grace, purpose, na-ture and spirit of the religious family in which it is made. It is clear that, although religious consecration involves a stable way of life, it is not a once and for all act. It is the beginning of a new phase of the inner journey to union with God, but it requires a lifelong growth that we call formation, and structures of support and order that we call governmept. We deepen our consecration all our life long. Nor is con-secration self-regarding. It is directed to the fulfillment of God's kind purposes and so is:for the sake of the whole Church. It benefits all God's people. The present Holy Father has expressed this very beautifully when he said that by the fact of consecration the heart of the religious is sealed with the sign of the biblical spouse (see Sg 8:16) and at the same time opened to all the sufferings, needs and hopes both of individuals and of the world. Receiving the love of the Father through the heart of Jesus, the religious enters in a particular way into the economy of the redemp-tion: the transformation of the entire cosmos through the human heart from within. This transformation takes place through the love which con- Review for Religious, January-February 1988 stitutes the very substance of religious consecration. It is by their conse-cration itself, then, that religious take part in the most complete and radi-cal way possible in the shaping of the new creation which must emerge from the abundance of the Paschal Mystery. (see Redemptionis Donum, nn. 8 and 9). This is their deepest sharing in the saving mission of Christ. The consecration of the apostolic religious, however, has a special note. In their case the deep, consecrated sharing in Christ's mission has an expression in apostolic and charitable activity which is of the very nature of their religious life. This activity is a "holy ministry entrusted to them by the Church, to be performed in its name" (Perfectae Carita-tis,. n. 8). It is a ministry closely connected with the founding gift and identity and rooted in consecration. To accomplish it, the entire relig-ious life of the members should be imbued with an apostolic spirit, and all their apostolic activities with a religious spirit. Here we touch the heart of apostolic religious consecration in practice. The apostolate is not something added on to our life of consecration: it is essential to that life. Everything in us~must be "imbued with an apostolic spirit." There is nothing outside it. It embraces the whole of life. We are apostolic, not because of What we do or do not do, but because we are consecrated in such a way that all is done as one sent by God in the name of Jesus and in the power of his self-giving love. The complementary side of thee coin is equally important. The works that we undertake to fulfill the "holy ministry entrusted to us by the Church" are not simply professional ac-tivities. By the fact of consecration, they are to be "imbued with a re-ligious spirit." We are consecrated for God, for the Church, for his peo-ple, not simply to do works which, however good, can be paralleled by many a generous person,° whether Christian or not. Our service is to be a sign of Christian vocation, witnessing to realities that are unseen but eternal. That is why our apostolic action must always proceed from un-ion with God and must confirm and foster that union. We are apos-tolically effective to the extent to which we live ourconsecration. The Place of O~r Apostolic Consecration in the Church Our consecration as apostolic religious is an ecclesial reality, exist~ ing only in and for the Church, the sacrament of salvation of the Christ who is consecrated affd sent. The Code says that we exist to'build up the body of Christ (can. 573.1). Certainly, our consecration is mediated through the Church. The public vows of religious are recognized and re-ceived by ecclesiastical authority, and the life to which they give rise is a divine gift to the Church which does not exist outside her. The Church r(cognizes, fosters and encourages the establishment and growth of re- Consecrated Apostolic Lives ligious institutes. She has the responsibility of discerning gifts and of ap-proving the individual constitutions according to which consecration by vows is made. She also gives the particular apostolic mandate according to which we have a specific, visible and public share in the saving mis-sion given to her by her founder. Our consecration commits us to a dou-ble service in the Church. In the first place, by a free expression of God's will, we are called to do and be intensively, exclusively, publicly and with our whole lives what all Christians are called to do and be by the universal call to baptism described in Lumen Gentium. Our consecration by vows in community frees us from many preoccupations and respon-sibilities of daily life in the areas of possessions, affectivity and choices precisely in order that we may be completely given to this one priority. If we are not living for the sake of others, we are not living our religious consecration because it is for them every bit as much as for ourselves that God has given his gift. We see a kind of parallel in civil life. All citizens have a responsibility for public o.rder and the well-being of so-ciety. Usually all strive to keep the peace. But some do it as a service to the others which is a life commitment. They do it publicly, exclu-sively, giving all their time and energy to it and, in some cases, life it-self. They are not more citizens than those who have chosen other ca-reers, but they express their citizenship in.a specific way for the benefit of all. God has always acted in a similar way with his people. All share the covenant; all are a royal,, prophetic, priestly nation; all are a conse-crated people set apart for God. But it is precisely ,because of this uni-versal call to holiness that God has called individuals and groups to im-age the covenant, to recall it, to live it in a way that is a constant re-minder, so as to help their sisters and brothers to be faithful to it. This call from among the people of God and for the sake of the people of God is not merited but free. It does not argue personal sanctity and does not imply any form of superiority. There were kings who failed, reluctant prophets, unfaithful priests, and apostles who betrayed or denied their Lord. But there is aneed for persons in the line of the prophets and apos-tles who are called by God, set. apart and dedicated to him, and who give up everything to follow him more closely. They focus the common call of God's people and keep it before the eyes of all as a challenge, encour-agement and truth that give meaning to life. The first service that results from religious consecration stands in this tradition. The second service is the more obvious one of apostolic works. There is an intimate connection between the founding gift which originated an institute, the consecration by which members are incorporated into the "14 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 institute, and the works which express the institute's corporate sharing in the mission of Christ. The three cannot be separated. In recognizing an'd approving an institute and mediating the consecration of its mem-bers, the Church acts on a discernment which she has made of the action of the Holy Spirit responding to.the needs of God's people. This divine action usually involves a perception on the part of the institute's foun-dress of some aspect or attribute of God which enables her to see human needs in a particular way and to respond concretely. My own foundress' wonderful awareness that God is good made her want to share her per-sonal experience of his goodness with the people of her rural area of north-east France who had never he~ird of him. This corresponded with the des-perate need for social and religious formation which followed the French Revolution. The result was a sharing in Christ's mission by an aposto-late of catechesis and education. Educational works are not one option among many .for Sisters of Notre Dame. They are the apostolate by which we share and continue St. Julie's founding insight and they are mandated for us by the Church because of this. Most apostolic institutes can trace the relation--founding gift, consecration, apostolic works-- pretty clearly. For example, the very name, Sisters of the Good Shep-herd, is a summary in itself. The Sisters of Mercy are another case in point. So are the Sisters of the Good Samaritan and the Little Sisters of the Poor. In each case, the Church is enriched by a concrete service in an area which she herself has approved and which has its roots in a di-vine initiative continued in consecrated life. Such a service is a matter of faith as well as of professional 'competence. It has a solid ground of continuity as well as diversity in its ongoing development. Both in itself and through the forms of service to which it has given rise, religious consecration is a witness in the Church to the reality of things hoped for and believed but as yet unseen. Consecration is a re-sponse of love in faith. The apostolic religious, by the fact of her conse-cration, asserts her conviction about the reality of God, the truth of Je-sus Christ, the presence of the communicating Spirit. She gives her life to this. In full consciousness of her personal inadequacy, she accepts the responsibility of being salt and light, sign and reminder. She accepts it, moreover, corporately in community with others shar.ing the same un-merited gift, and in a stable way--not simply when she feels like it, or when things go w~ell, or for a certain time, but for better or for worse as a life commitment. The ChurCh has the right to count on the witness and works of consecrated religious. Consecrated Apostolic Lives The Place of Consecration in Our Lives At this point it might be helpful to sum up briefly the place of our apostolic religious consecration in our lives as individual members of our institutes. What does it commit us to? First, to a closer following of Christ, .personally and loved above all, and, in him, to a continuous wor-ship of God in charity. This involves a life like that of the apostles: not a knowing about the Lord but a knowing and loving the Lord himself, taking on his mind and heart in the ordinary things of every day, letting ourselves be transformed by him until to live is Christ (Ph 1:24). This deep love of the person of Jesus gives meaning to our consecrated lives and the foundation of any apostolic spirituality. It is expressed in the vows and it alone can ensure the poverty of heart, the surrender of love and the free obedience that we strive for through our vows. Secondly. we are committed to a sisterly life in common precisely because the un-ion with Christ through love also unites us among ourselves. Commu-nity is characteristic of the religious form of consecrated life. It is the expression of a spiritual bond, a communion, which is Christ among us, our hope of glory (Col 1:27). This bond reflects the Church a~ commun-ion: the aspect so strongly brought out at the 1985 Synod of Bishops. It is also the bond of apostolic following: of sharing the same mission of Christ, in the same way and under the impulse of the same Holy Spirit. This bond is stable, and has its concrete expression in commu-nity as our form of life. We commit ourselves in the third place to a shar-ing in Christ's mission which is corporate, personal and ecclesial. We each accept our personal Part in the mandate which the Church gives to the institute as a whole and we carry out our own mission under the author- ~ity of our institute and according to its traditions. Fourthly, we commit ourselves to fidelity to our own religious institute as God's gift to the Church and to us. This means fidelity to its nature, character, purpose and identity, to its way of life, to its spirit, to its mission, apostolate and works. Such fidelity has to be both honest and creative, respecting both the need for continuity ant] the necessity for change. Finally, implicit in all this is that we commit ourselves to Christ's goal and to Christ's means: prayer, service and the cross in the very apostolates that we do with him for the Father's glory and the salvation of the world. Our con-secration requires that our works come from and lead to union with God. That is one reason why our commitment in faith is a source of confi-dence, joy and hope. Review for Religious, January-February 1988 Living Our Apostolic Consecration Today. The Conditions of Our Times (Perfectae Caritatis n. 2) Perfectae Caritatis pointed to the conditions of our times as one of the three major criteria of renewal. They certainly play a great part in the way that the apostolic religious lives her consecration today. Some sisters bemoan them, others exult in them, others a~ain try to escape them or pretend that they are not there. One good way to approach them is to remind ourselves that we are not living our religious life in 1988 by chance. It might seem easier to have been a "Mother of the desert," or a seventeenth-century pioneer, or even one of our pre-Vatican II sis-ters, sure of her predictable horarium and occupations. However, the fact is that it is here and now that we are living our religious consecration because that is God's choice for us. Of all the possible periods of his-tory, this is the one that his love found best for us. It is not a mistake or an oversight. We know and have believed in his love and this is how he shows it. Our first response has to be a wholehearted Yes to the fact that we INe in our own times. This is our hour. We do not have any otfier, and if we do not accept it,'something will be forev~r lost to God's glory and to the Church of Christ. It is here in this place, now .in this time, with these sisters, in this Church, in this society that each of us carries on the saving work of Christ to which our consecration c6mmits US. What are our times? Certainly they are a period of very rapid change, not to say upheaval, both in the Church and in the world. The years since the Council bave seen significant shifts in long-accepted values and atti-tudes and the raising of questions probably unthinkable in a previous gen-eration. Moral problems are complex. Instant communication has brought nuclear issues, violence, the uncertain striving for world peace, questions of human dignity,~ world hunger, armaments into many peo-ple's homes. Computer technology is easing work on the one hand and on the other posing some deep problems about the future of human de-velopment. One thing is sure. The clock will not turn back. These are our times with their hopes and fears and challenges. We have to know them if we are to live our consecration according to the mind of Christ, because they raise questions about the adaptation of our style of conse-crated life and work. Four areas have been particularly affected by social and ecclesial de-velopments since Vatican II: community, works, formation and govern-ment. The extent of the pressure has varied from culture to culture but Consecrated Apostolic Lives / 17 the general lines are worldwide, and I will confine my observations to the English-speaking world as being the one I know best. Community has moved from the accepted model of a more or less en-closed life with its own traditional .interpretation of being-in-common through uniformity of timetable, prayer, presence, habit, to a present state of considerable diversity. There have been successive phases. Im-mediately after the Council,there was a false dichotomy between com-munity and apostolate and, in reaction to this, the tendency to absolu-tize either one or the other. Then there was the cry for small communi-ties. In the late seventies, by a misunderstanding, anything that was termed "monastic" was considered nonacceptable for apostolic life. Then there were cluster communities, intercongregational communities, international communities, and the cases of sisters living alone. Much of the discussion centered on structure, size, location, style of living and form of government. All these are important, but the considerations need to go deeper if we are to renew,community in a way that corresponds to our times. What is needed is a living witness to the possibility of unity among people. The quality and evidence of community living: that is, the fact of persons living like the apostles did, united to Christ, and to each other because of him, is part of the good news that we bring. Com-munity exists as the expression of communion ir~ the Lord. For this rea-son it is an obligation for religious; notan obligation which is imposed, but an obligation of love which flows naturally from our consecration. It is by the values of consecration and corporate mission that commu-n. ity life is to be evaluated. Certainly, there are changes in the require-ments and possibilities of community life, but probably what needs prayer-ful reflection is the connection between present.trends in community styles and structures and the v~alues of consecrated religious life that these are meant to promote. The touchstone is our consecration: the basic ele-ment which determines the.raison d'6tre., the purpose, the relationships and the nature of community. It is not a~clearcut area. There are good apostolic reasons for many of the changes that are taking place: new needs evident in both the Church and society; much greater specialization and professional mobility; fewer sisters; less stable corporate com-mitments because of the variety of demands; a different kind of outreach to the needy and the marginalized. But the criterion for discernment in decisions that have to be made must first of all be the consecration in which religious community is rooted. What kind of community are we building? What values are we trying to support? If the bottom line is our consecration, our communion in Christ will be such that the witness of Review for Religious, January-February 1988 our community living will be an apostolate in itself. "By this all shall know that you are my disciples, that you have love one for another" (Jn 13:35). If the communion of consecration does not solve all the struc-tural problems, it gives the one sure context for the evolution of com-munity. Something similar has happened in regard to works, and this is not separate from but closely related to developments in community. Ours is a corporate mission: a joint sharing in the one mission of Christ which is an ecclesial mandate taken up by the fact of our consecration to God in a parti.cular institute. It has both the strength and the limitation of its specificity. It is strong because it commits the whole institute to a cer- (ain direction: the service and works which express its founding gift. It is limited because it requires us to forego other kinds of works which are not part of that gift or which are more properly done either by the clergy or by the laity. One of the difficult things to foster in recent years has been the poverty of heart that can accept the limitations of consecrated service for what they really are: fidelity to God's will as expressed in the founding gift and lived tradition, and not some kind of failure in gener-osity. We do not look for variety of works for its own sake. We are not called to act as if all the social, political, economic, educational, pas-toral or medical good in the world depended on us. We are not seeking our own fulfillment. But we are living our consecration to the Christ who was sent in ways which are much more sophisticated than they were twenty years ago. We need a good deal more specialization. We find our-selves called by a wider range of needs. We have more collaboration with other religious, with the laity, with public bodies. We find ourselves faced by increasing demands just when our diminishing numbers and ris-ing median age seem to give less possibility of meeting them. Here it is the mission to which our consecration commits us that is the stable cri-terion for discernment. What are we sent to do? For whicl~ service in the Church of today did the Lord prepare our particular institute? That is where our fidelity must lie. It is our fidelity to our institute's part in Christ's mission that determines our corporate decisions and, within the corporate identity, the works of the individual religious. With regard to formation, I want to make only one remark at this point: namely, that the conditions of our time are one important element in the formation process. We donot carry on our formation in a vacuum or, please God, in some airborne way that is out of touch with reality. The young women who come to us come from today's society with its attitudes, values, habits and ways of acting. It is twenty years since the Consecrated Apostolic Lives Second Vatican Council, so very few of our candidates will have expe-rienced the often healthy security that marked pre-Vatican II religious life. Although conditions change from one culture to another, most young women have known only a rapidly changing world and a suddenly changing Church. Why come to institutes in process of changing their lives and revising their constitutions? At the same time, older sisters, em-bracing or resisting or avoiding the changes of the past twenty years, have been faced by the challenge of an ongoing formation which has to take into account the conditions of the times while it deepens and fos-ters growth in all the areas of consecrated life. Alike for the candidate and for the golden jubilarian, the focus is consecration. The candidate is preparing for it. The older sister is deepening it by her daily ongoing formation in community. How do we ensure this process today? How do we set formation in the late 1980s squarely in the perspective of our con-secration to the God who sends us in mission? Finally, government has been greatly affected by the values, particu-larly the political values and principle~s, of our times. Democracy, par-ticipation, subsidiarity, consensus, shared responsibility, collective de-cision making, due process appear in some shape or form in most drafts of constitutions. There is a stress on collectivity and leadership and on the gifts of the individual sister. All this is a curious amalgam of much that is good in the tendencies of our times but it has three striking char-acteristics: it usually avoids with great care any clear authority, organi-zation and general structure, all of which are necessary if government is to work; it makes no a~;sumption of faith, but seems to aim at effi-ciency of function rather than efficacy of purpose; it does not necessar-ily relate the government structures of an institute to its founding gift and tradition, yet this relation is critically important. The influences on gov-ernment have real potential for good but they cannot be accepted uncriti-cally or simply because they seem to be the trend of the times. How do we discern which ones will be helpful? Allowing for the existence of our own traditions and of the general law of the Church, which processes and structures will best promote our religious life and service? Again it comes down to which ones will support and foster our consecration in mission. It is evident that values have to be clear and deeply accepted, but the touchstone for decisions is consecration. Response to Our Times What we offer to the men and women of our time is the dedication to God, to the Church and to the saving work of Christ in our world that is contained in our consecration. It is a self-giving which witnesses to "20/Review for Religious, January-February 1988 love through service: a witness of faith which makes us signs of the God we cannot see, and of the invisible realities that everyone hopes for. It need not be dramatic. Most of the time, it seems very ordinary and rou-tine. But we must be deeply convinced of its necessity and validity. God has chosen each of us before the creation of the world to live through love in his presence and to continue actively the mission of Christ in our world here and now. These are his "kind purposes" (see Ep 1:5). We have, therefore, three centers of focus in our one consecration: Christ, the Church, and the world, and it is from these interrelated centers that our style of response to our times takes its shape. I suggest that the Church and society today need among religious~ not so much planners, as contemplatives; not so much professors as proph-ets; not so much public servants as apostles. It is witness rather than words or works which speaks in our time. It is therefore as contempla-tives who are one with Christ, as prophets who hear and communicate his word in the Church and as apostles sent in our own world that we live our consecration, whatever our work may be. That is the heart of our response. We are to be contemplatives, not because of a lifestyle that is en-closed, but because we have committed ourselves by our vows to live always the particular response of faith, hope and love by which we open ourselvesto the revelation of the living God and to communion with him through Jesus Christ in the Holy Spirit in every aspect of our lives. The contemplative dimension of our consecration is basically a reality of grace. It is a gift of God by which we know him as Father (see Jn 14:8) in the mystery of the Trinity dwelling within us (see Jn 14:23). By it we savor what Saint Paul calls "the depths of God" (I Co 2:!0) and. by the gradual purification of the paschal cross all our lives long, we come more and more to meet God in everything and in everyone, to serve him in our sisters and brothers, to. love, adore and praise him in the daily round of our duties. Our consecration commits us to this: to live, be and serve in the perspective of God no matter what our workg may be. Our joys and our sufferings, our immediate tasks and the responsibilities which take time, attention, patience and professional competence are very much part of our lives and are the occasion both of our apostolic .effectiveness and of our personal growth, but we can never afford to let them obscure the vision of faith by which we witness to the reality of what we hope for: to the truths that we cannot see. It is in this contem-plative faith suffusing our lives and publicly expressed as the basis of Consecrated Apostolic Lives our consecration that we find the conviction of the validity of our life and of the value in the Church and world of today. We also serve as prophets. Individuals were called from among the people of Israel to listen for God's word, to hear it and communicate it. They were members of a pro.phetic people at the service of that people and they were one of God's ways of keeping the people faithful to the covenant. In the Church, too, the Lord of history has called some, for the sake of all, to a prophetic role among his people. Jesus is the grea~t prophet: the one who is both message and messenger. In him is the full-ness of the Holy Spirit who is the Spirit of prophecy. It is in him and to him that we are consecrated as religious. In that consecration there is a distinct sharing in his prophetic mission. We are to be united with God o in our contemplation but, both individually and corporately, we are also to listen to his word, to recognize it in our own times, to speak it in the way that we live and serve and relate to others. This is no easy matter. A look back at Jeremiah or Isaiah or Jonah or Ezekiel will remind us that we cannot talk lightly about being prophets. It is significant that none of the prophets wanted the role. Moses objected. Jeremiah re~proached the Lord. Jonah ran away. Yet something of their vocation is ours, and we have to face the devastating challenge to complete poverty of heart that they recognized and feared. What does it involve? In the first place; a humble acceptance of God's choice and of God's message. Itis his teaching through Scripture, through the Church, through a tested discern-ment of our own situation properly approved, that we are to speak by words, by action and by life. We do not preach our own .message, we do not decide to whom we will go nor with whom we will work; we do not choose where we will give witness. We do not have an eight-hour prophetic day; it is a calling that takes our whole life. We forgo our own security to depend on God. We accept the cost of prophecy: the suffer-ing, the likely rejection, the misunderstanding, the self-giving that may cost life itself. We are sharply aware of our own inadequacy and defi-ciencies, of our inability to be and do anything without the power of Christ acting in us. And most of the time that power acts in secret. The most effective prophets are often the ones who are least a~iare of their prophetic work. But the very fact of our vows, publicly professing val-ues that speak pr.ofoundly to sex, possessions and self-determination, the fact of our life in community, which speaks to the segregation, aliena-tion and marginalization of so many people, and the fact of our service. in mission given out of love, not out of compulsion, all make us a part of a presence and action in the Church that is distinctly prophetic. Review for Religious, January-February 1988 As apostles, we are sent to carry the good news. Jesus Christ is risen from the dead. He is alive now and among us. We have met him; he knows and loves us and all those whom we serve. The fruits of our con-templative faith and our prophetic calling are in our apostolic mission. "As the Father has sent me, I als0 send you" (Jn 20:21). This is why t.he element of missioning: of sending and bei.ng sent, is of so much im-portance in our religious life. We are sent into the world, sent to our works, sent to our communities. We accept the" sending, which is the most effective expression of our obedience, with the same love and free-dom as Christ accepted his, because he makes it possible. Through the Church and through the" mediation of our own institute structures we con-tinue in our own times the work of the Christ who was sent. This is a critically important value in setting up p.rocesses of missioning today. Christ, the Church, and the world combine in the consecration of the apostolic religious to give a commitment to God in community in mis-sion which, in, the concrete reality of the conditions of our times, is a witness eloquent in itself. It has to be lived with full generosity and fi-delity if its potential, is to be realized. Rooted in consecration and ex-pressed in apostolate With the rest of our community, it can be a truly prophetic witness and it is on this level above all that we have something very valid tb bring to our times. Conclusion Despite the questions with which we began these reflections, it must be clear that the consecration of sisters dedicated to apostolic works has a particular place in today's Church. It is by vowed consecration lived in community and approved by theChurch, that we are religious at all, and it is as religious that we receive our particular sharing in the Church's mission. This sharing involves witness to God and a service to our sis-ters and brothers in Christ, that can take many forms but the forms have to be consonant with our consecration, with our founding gift and' tradi-tions, and with the Church's mandate. Our life needs love, faith and fi-delity; it needs a constant sensitiveness to Christ, to the Church and to ~he world; it needs a firm conviction as to its own validity. All these are components of the formation we receive and in which we continue to grow. So long as that growth is centered on what is essential to our life: the vowed consecration in community to the Christ who Was consecrated and sent, not to condemn the world but to save it, we will be increas-ingly what God intends us to be in the Church: witnesses of faith, signs of hope, evangelizers through service. The side-effects of this will come of their own accord: the quiet evidence of a way of living that offers al- Consecrated Apostolic Lives / 93 ternate values to those of sex, money and power; the long-term impact on society of educat.ional 'or pastoral works that consistently operate on Christian principles; the witness of service willingly given for reasons that have nothing to do with professional advancement, ambition or per-sonal gain; the existence in the Church on a permanent and reliable ba-sis of persons and institutions who are channels of God's love in action mirroring the presence among us of Christ the teacher, Christ the healer, Christ the reconciler, Christ the Good Shepherd. This is what we are about today as apostolic religious. May the Lord who consecrated us and began his good work in us, bring it to its completion (see Ph 1:6) for it is only in him that we bear fruit for the Father's glory (Jn 15:8)and he has promised to be with us, even to the end of time (see Mt 28:20). The One Prayer of Jesus David P. Reid; SS.CC. Father Reid, whose interests are "peace, family and the relationship between life and religion,;' teaches New Testament at the Washington Theological Union. He is especially grateful to Sr. Margaret Therese Evans, S.N.D., for encouraging him in seeking publication of this article and for editing its text. Father Reid may be ad-dressed at: Washington Theological Union; 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Md 20903-3699. The power to praise is itself your gift. ~,.very prayer is ultimately some shadow and some part of the praise of God. To be able to praise God, of course, is itself God's gift. The fact is we do not pray on our own strength; we pray out of discovering a strength within us. We just hope that our presence, our attempt, is itself prayer. In other words, we come with a tremendous sense of humility into the act of prayer. We hope that our effort at doing certain things re-ally is prayer offered to God. There is only one "pray-er": that is Jesus. Anything we do is a par-ticipation in the one prayer addressed to God through Jesus. When we go to pray, we can be mindful of the Japanese Buddhist in a shrine in Kyoto, or the Hindu taking care of a poor man on the streets of Calcutta, or all the people of the world wanting to pray. In the light of the Gos-pel, we believe that we all share but one prayer: the prayer of Jesus. All the prayer of the whole world reaches God through Jesus because God's ultimate revelation to the human is Jesus, the Christ. We enter into a stream, a wide stream of life. We can have a great sense of solidarity with our human family of brothers and sisters through-out the world as each tries to pray in his or her respective way. Some- 24 The One,,Prayer of Jesus how or other, the prayer of each is nudged this way and that, is cele-brated this way or heard that way. Somehow or other the prayer of each is taken by Jesus and offered to the Father. When we pray we hope that we have heard the prayer of Jesus and that we are releasing his prayer into the world. As we enter into prayer, his prayer is released through us into all the nooks and crannies of this huge, complicated world of hu-man beings. "The power to pray is itself your gift." Who is this gift of God? Je-sus! The power to pray is Jesus. Theologians speak about the "anony-mous Christian" and about the convergence of all things towards God as the "omega point." We, even with our.feeble efforts, are a part of that wide drama. Sometimes it is hard to keep .our footing in this mar-velous procession through Jesus to the Father. We want to bail out. But we were never asked to succeed. Rather we have been invited to become pari of the prayer who is Jesus. "Accept my effort, Good God, and make it part of the prayer of Jesus." Deep down we know that all we do is to offer ourselves. The point is made clearly each time we pray at ,.the Eucharist: "Pray, brothers.and sisters, that our offering may be ac-ceptable . " Our offering is united to the offering of Jesus. The of-fering of Jesus is lovingly accepted by the Father. It becomes a sacrifice. We do not presume to call our offering a sacrifice. Only God makes holy. Only God makes a sacrifice. Only God's action accepting our of-fering makes it a sacrifice. Jest]s' prayer, acted out in his loving self-donation on the cross is totally and completely acceptable to God. Jesus is God's gift. Jesus is God's power to pray. Only in his power do we pray to God. Only his prayer fully resonated with the Father's desire to redeem the world. Perhaps all of us experience problems with prayer. These can be prob-lems of all shapes and makes; at times, problems of faith, at other times, problems of discipline. It will help to solve.some problems to underscore the humility and honesty with, which we come to prayer. We place ~ur-selves in the presence of the praying Jesus. The evangelists portray Je-sus in prayer with the intention of inviting us to be with him. The sim-ple statement: "I prayed this morning," may in fact be too proud. All I did was place myself alongside of the only pray-er there is, Jesus. This is the most exciting and beautiful part of prayer. Recall the scene in Luke's gospel where the Pharisee and the publi-can pray. One of them trots up to the front of the temple and pours out his prayer, while the other one i~ depicted as hanging back, terribly con-scious of the small offering that he is making; he knows that this whole 96 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 thing of praying could fall apart in his hands at any moment. I suggest that this reaction is central to the experience of prayer. "I must decrease, he must increase." We come to pray with a deep sense of our frailty but secure in our awareness that Jesus is the pray-er to whom God has re-sponded. God raised Jesus from the dead, sure sig~'J that God heard the prayer of Jesus. His whole life was prayer because his whole life led to the response of God in raising him up. In prayer we are asking that we be heard as was Jesus. This brings a beautiful unity to our prayer and a deep consolation. All the many ways we pray are efforts to enter :the prayer of Jesus. It would be unwise to evaluate the various ways of praying and declare one way better than another. Each comes from our broken lives at a par-ticular moment and is offered through Jesus who likewise knew many ways to pray to his Father. We give a very concrete interpretation to the idea that we should pray always. Many persons have experienced a whole new creativity in prayer by choosing to call up6n this gift of God in a whole.variety of situations. The gifts of God are not to be compared but only identified as God's gift for this time and in this place and in these circumstances of my life. So it is wise not to compare gifts of prayer but to marvel at the way in which God enables us to pray as we need at any given time. This is true also of the prayer of dryness, even the "prayer of distraction" if we are permitted to coin such a term. Distractions in prayer are a big problem. The problem is not, how-ever, that we have distractions but how we handle them. When we find ourselves distracted, we must re-read the distraction. We must put our-selves in touch with the feelings that were experienced in the distraction. It could be that the distraction is what God wants us to bring to conscious-ness and sur~'ender to him in this prayer. When we offer our distractions to God often we are offering our real selves at that moment. We are "praying from the gut." That's what~.~God wants. God wants our real lives, here and now made part of ever-being-prayed prayer of Jesus. Our distractions are putting flesh on the prayer of Jesus now. How? We are enfleshing his prayer in the midst of that distraction. We are taking the prayer ofJesus and allowing it to become part of our world. It may mean praise, it may mean glory, it may mean healing, it may mean contrition. All the more power,fully therefore do we conclude our time of prayer with the simple refrain: "tht:ough Jesus Christ our Lord." As I conclude my prayer'with this refrain I am greatly consoled. It is not just a nice way to end a prayer; itis the only way both to begin and to end. Often I am distracted during'those prayers at the Eucharist when we recall all The One Prayer of Jesus / 97 those for whom we pray. And before I know where I am we are praying the final doxology. If I trust Jesus praying in me, I can abandon myself in that final sweep as our prayer reaches out to God in the outstretched arms of Jesus: "Through him, with him, in him, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all honor and glory is yours, almighty Father, for ever and ever." As the Amen of the community resounds in my ears, I can letgo of my frailty and recognize again that all our strength comes from our being rooted in God. If God could be so "distracted" as to take up his abode in our midst, we can see our distractions as an invitation to take up our abode in God. So our i~sue then is to be very much in touch with the prayer of Je-sus, to believe deeply that we are baptized into his prayer. That prayer is going on inside of us constantly. To take time to pray is to tap into that deep vein, that deep thrust of life which is going on inside. We are in Christ. We are profoundly in Christ.~We are far more in Christ that we shall ever imagine. To pray is to come home to ourselves in the depth to which we are being plunged into Christ. To live is to belong to the community of praise. Now what is Jesus Christ doing in his prayer in the midst of us? He is leading us into the community of the praise of God. We become part of his prayer because his prayer is access to the community of praise. In the imagery of the Letter to the Hebrews, it can be said that Jesus leads us into the Holy of Holies. We are ushered into the presence of God. The wildest dreams of the Old Testament people are fulfilled. Many longed for the joy of going to Jerusalem. Three times a year the pious Jewish person went up to the Holy City. These visits were the high points of the year. All the remainder was lived in the valleys of expectation. Hear the psalmist say it in words of unspeakable beauty: For a day in thy courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the ,house of God than dwell in the tents of wickedness (Ps 84:10 RSV). For them the annual pilgrimages to Jer.usa!em expressed a hope that God would grant such a request: access to God's presence in the midst of the community of praise. They set out for Jerusalem hoping and pray-ing that.they could make the journey and then be .found not unworthy to enter into the very presence of God. Only the high priest could enter the Holy of Hblies once a year. That is what it meant to be alive: to be given access in the community of praise to the very presenc.e of God. 91~ / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 This image of the community of praise is a very powerful image. To develop it I suggest a reading of the healing of the Samaritan leper in Luke's gospel. The story is known to all: On the way to Jerusalem he was passing along between Samaria and Gali-lee. And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and lifted up their'voices and said, 'Jesus, Master, have mercy on us." When he saw them he said to them, 'Go and show your-selves to the priests." And as they went they were cleansed. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned b_ack, praising God with a loud voice, and he fell on his face at Jesus' feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a Samaritan. Then said Jesus, 'Were not ten cle-ansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?" And he said to him, 'Rise and go your way; your faith has made you whole" (17:11-19 RSVi. A painful part of being a I~per was that one was denied access to the community of praise. Jesus sent the lepers off to thd priests to be read-mitred to the community of praise. They discovered that they were healed while on the way there. The Samaritan did nbt need a priest to declare him readmitted. In a daring move, he stepped out in faith and declared that the new situation~ in which he now stood was indeed the community of praise. He rejoiced and praised God. " Jesus' purpose in preaching the kingdom of God was to direct peo-ple °again to the community of praise. He had come from that~commu-nity of praise and he ,was leading people back to that community of praise. He would give us access to the community of praise to the glory of God. And th'e proclamation of the kingdom was to overcome the things that held us back from that 9ommunity. Call it Satan, call it the reign of Satan, call it whatever you will. But he set himself very directly against those things that held back people from allowing that formula of praise to really resonate in their hearts. It is interesting that the person healed is not only a leper; he is also a Samaritan. There was only one thing worse than being a leper in a Jew's eyes; that was being a Samaritan. Here there is one, both a Samari- ,tan and a leper, who finds that all that Jerusalem ever stood for is right here now before him as he praises God for the gift of Jesus. It is won-derful! One finds a whole new redefinition of Jerusalem, of temple, of Samaritan and of what it means to belong to the community of praise. How lovely i~; thy dwelling place, O Lord of Hosts. My soul longs, yea, fainis for the ~ot~rts of the Lord; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God iPs 84:1 RSV). The One Prayer of Jesus In all of the gospels, but especially in Luke, there is an emphasis put on the response of the people to a miracle performed in their midst. It is part of telling the story to underscore the reaction of the participants. Here Luke gives a story which outdoes all others in presenting this reac-tion of praise. The favorable reaction is proportionate to how much the person felt bound by the particular malady. Every miracle restores a per-son to the community of praise; the story of the Samaritan has as its spe-cial purpose to point out that Jesus restores one to the community of praise by removing the blocks that hold back people from access to God. The purpose of the miracles and the purpose of recounting the miracles is less proving that Jesus was divine than illustrating how Jesus gave ac-cess to the Divine. Only God can give access to Godself and Jegus as God's beloved Son rejoiced in giving to humankind access to his Father. Such access is life. Jesus restored the dead to life as a pledge of the Father's power at work within him to lead us all finally to the praise of God's glory forever. Jubilate Deo As our singing in harmony fades and dies Jubilate Deo the music of the silence rises from within our hearts set free by the Spirit who loves to play in the stillness of united hearts. Noel Davis 257 Abercrombie Street Chippendale, N.S.W. Australia 2008 A Word About Praising John Sheila Galligan, I.H.M. Sister John Sheila resides at Mary Immaculate Convent; 10th and Moore Streets; Phila-delphia, Pennsylvania 19148. Without doubt, even a cursory reading of Scripture reveals that the theme of praise pulses in the depths as well as on the surface of the biblical tra-dition. We are swept along at an almost breathless pace as explicit prayers of praise, invitations to praise, and reflections on various aspects of the act of praising come to the fore. With enthusiasm and confidence the Psalmist proclaims resolutely: "I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall be ever in my mouth" (Ps 34:2). God himself praises his gen-tle servant: "Here is my servant whom I uphold, my chosen one in whom my soul delights" (Is 42: 1). In the Gospels these words are reit-erated in reference to Jesus: "This is my beloved Son, on whom my fa-vor rests. Listen to him" (Mt 17:5; see Lk 9:35; Mk 9:7). A close ex-amination of the countless references to "praise" shows that praise is not merely an emotional outpouring, but a theological statement of depth ¯ and seriousness. Throughout Scripture the central meaning of praise seems to indicate the human person as receptive and responsive: recep-tive to the discernible presence of God, responsive in the expression of wonder and awe. Praise is a key element in the life of the spirit. Abraham Heschel, a noted Jewish theologian, makes an incisive comment: The secret of spiritual living is the power to praise. Praise is the harvest of love. Praise precedes faith. First we sing, then we believe. The fun-damental issue is not faith but sensitivity and praise, being ready for faith. ~ 3O A Word About Praising Little do we think about the nature of praise--though nowhere does the might of the spirit appear so openly, so directly and tangibly present as in the act of giving praise. What does it mean--to praise? Surely, an examination of the nature of praising and its place in our lives would be an enriching endeavor. Praise: Its Nature Several passages from the writings of the acclaimed Christian apolo-gist and literary critic C. S. Lewis offer substantive material for reflec-tion and application. The theme of praise is etched into his works with a laser-like intensity of conviction: conviction crystallized in his experi-ence. An understanding of its determinative importance in human life per-meates his works. The tenor and thrust of Lewis' insight are most fully developed in a chapter of his book Reflections on the Psalms. There he affirms that praise is an expression 9f approval, a positive affirmation.2 To praise God is to acclaim, magnify, honor, and glorify him. Praise is a commin-gling of wonder, awe, adoration, and thanksgiving. To praise is to ac-knowledge lovingly and accept gratefully not only what God is in him-self, but what he is for the human person. Authentic praise involves ex-altation, sensitivity to the sacred, awareness of indebtedness to God. It seems to be born when the mystery of God and the mystery of the hu- ¯ man person meet. Praise, Lewis maintains, is th~ dynamic response of a creature who knows himself or herself to be the object of God's infinite love. Lewis personally gave "praise" for coming to this discovery after a slow and hesitant faith-struggle of more than thirty years. With. straightforward sim-plicity he writes of his conversion: The Prodigal Son at least walked home on his own feet. But who can duly adore that Love which will open the high gates to a prodigal who is brought in kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting his eyes in every direction for a chance to escape?3 Here again we see that praise is essentially a receptive and respon-sive attitude, the diffuse and grateful conviction of being known and loved by God. Lewis draws our attention to the fact that praise is a response to an objective value and, therefore, an expression of the will. As such, he sug-gests it is not just something sentimental, nor does it primarily refer to a special intensity of feeling. Rather, it concerns the extremely solid and sober matter of responding to an objective good. Praise is the "correct, 39 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 adequate, and, appropriate response" to someone or something that de-serves it.4 Therefore, the Psalmist can state, "Praise is rightfully yours, O God" (Ps 65:2). In every conceivable case praise signifies much the same as approval.5 We find that the Psalms frequently issue an invita-tion to praise with a "because" as they proclaim the reason for honor and praise: "Praise the Lord, for he is good; sing praise to our God, for he is gracious; it is fitting to praise him" (Ps 147:1; see Ps 33:1). Thus, the issue of praise is not primarily our feelings and our words; the issue of praise is God." Essentially then, to praise is to discover a value, appreciate it, and in some way express this appreciation. Overtones of ampler meaning emerge from Lewis' attempt to clarify the meaning of "appreciation." The word appreciation for him, means to "love and delight in. ,,6 The beginning of praise is appreciation--and the beginning of appreciation is a sense of humble awe in the face of the mystery of the enduring love and goodness of God. In the light of this we could perhaps say that praise is a form of the truth to be grasped by the spirit. Lewis stresses, too, that to praise is to forget the self and break down the walls of self-absorption and resistance to God. Praise is fueled by love; therefore, selfishness smothers praise. With a dash of daring and characteristic dry humor, Lewis points out his discovery that "the hum-blest, and at the same time most balanced and capacious minds, praised most, while the cranks, misfits, and malcontents praised the least.''7 Praise and Creation: Matter Really Matters Not surprisingly, Lewis constantly affirms the sheer "goodness" of all that God has created. There is no good trying to be more spiritual than God. God never meant man to be a purely spiritual creature .He likes matter. He invented it.8 This marvelous truth is illustrated with a clear and steady focus through-out Scripture and in consequent theological reflection. "God saw that it was good" is a refrain repeated seven times within the first thirty-one verses-of Genesis (see Gn 1:4,10, 12, 18,21,25,31). Heschel's comment is apt: The biblical words about the genesis of heaven and earth are not words of information but words of appreciation. The story of creation is not a description of how the .world came into being but a song about the glory of the world's having come into being: "And God saw that it was good" (Gn 1:25),9 A Word About Praising The whole earth is full of God's glory. Psalm 148 calls us to recog-nize the wonder of God's work and express it in word. Because God has clothed creation with loveliness, the Psalmist sings: "All "your works praise you" (Ps 145:10). We find the theme frequently in poetry, per-haps most beautifully expressed in the Canticle of the Sun by St. Fran-cis. Throughout his works Lewis indulges his delight in the reality of the world with i~nthusiasm and zest. Readers find themselves immersed in powerful imagery and scenes which create the memorable impression that matter really matters. Lewis constantly celebrates the "profusion of pleasure" which lies about us. Always he extends the marvelous in-vitation: Come out, look back, and then you will see--this astonishing cataract of bears, babies, and bananas: this immoderate deluge of atoms, orchids, oranges, cancers, canaries, fleas, gases, tornadoes and toads.~° in the. mystery of creation he sensed the presence of God. It filled him with wonder and gratitude. According to Lewis, not to praise what God has crea~ed is not to see. He would agree with Elizabeth Barrett Browning's pertinent observation in the poem "Aurora Leigh": Earth's crammed with heaven And every common bush afire with God; And only he who sees takes off his shoes-- The rest sit around and pluck blackberries. The world is "crammed" with the marvelous. Yet our perception is frag-ile and lacks intensity. We can be blind and deaf and dull. Therefore, Lewis is adamant: We may ignore, but we can fiowhere evade, the presence of God. The world is crowded with him . The real labor is to remember, to at-tend. In fact, to come aware. Still more, to remain awake. I I Lewis' insights are unambiguously positive. He urges us to rejoice in the "joy, pleasure and merriment which God has scattered broad-cast.''~ 2 He thrilled to the genuine delight which one should discern in the patterns of pleasure that God has created. The inexhaustible fecun-dity of the "glad Creator" provides a riot of light and color, taste and smell. ~3 Even Sci'ewtape, the senior devil in Lewis' Screwtape Letters, attests tO the truth that God "is a hedonist at heart . Out at sea, out in his sea, there is pleasure and more pleasure. He makes no secret of 34 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 it; at his right hand are pleasures forevermore." 14 Praise and the Present Moment: Time Touches Eternity Without doubt, Lewis roots praise, in an appreciation of what is "ex-traordinary" in the ordinariness of the present moment. An intuitive and pervasive perception of the fact that every moment is significant, draw-ing its power from God's presence and efficacy in it, under,,lines Lewis' assertion that the "Present is the point at which time touches Eter-nity." ~5 That God's loving and caring presence is~prismed through the present moment strikes the core of his understanding of the nature of praise and its intimate connection with Providence. This notion is crucial in the great theological vision of Julian of Nor-wich, whose statement "All shall be well" is rooted in the reality of "All is well.''~6 A splendid text in Romans also embraces the vision: "We know that God makes all things work together for the good of those who love him" (Rm 8:28). Reality and actuality exist only in the present moment. Because of this, Lewis exhorts us to reflect upon the question, "Where, except in the present, can the Eternal be met.9''~7 A disciplined and intelligent grasp of the art of appreciatipn of the present moment permeates Lewis" works. In his science-fiction novel Perelandra we are told that Maleldil (God) is in every place, "even in the smallness beyond thought." Realizing that a glimpse of God's hand at work in the zigs and zags of our experience can be bewildering, yet providential, he writes: The pattern is so large that within the little frame of earthly experience there appear pieces of it between which we can see no connection, and other pieces between which we can . Before the world was made, all these things had so stood together in eti~rnity that the very, signifi-cance of the pattern at this point lay in their coming together in just this fashion.~8 And in a letter to his friend Arthur Greeves, he shrewdly observes: The great thing, if one can~ is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptionsOof one's own or "real" life. The truth is, of course, that whht one calls the interruptions are precisely one's real life--the life God is sendingone day by day. 19 Thus, a realization that the present moment is enlivened with an incar-national intensity and. vision is crucial to spiritual growth. And in the won-der of this awareness we respond with. praise. To prai~se thi~ singularit.y A Word About Praising of the moment is the fruit of spiritual maturity. Praise and Joy: The Serious Business of Heaven Praise, according to Lewis, is an outburst of the heart, an act of buoy-ancy and spontaneity. Praise transmutes feeling into delight. He urges us to remember that praise is the "mode of love which always has some element of joy in it.''2° It is immediately apparent that here Lewis is as-serting something that strikes at the heart of the meaning of praise: In human experience praise is intimately intertwined with joy. In short, we are confirmed in our sensing that profound joy can generate praise and praise is the springboard for joy. Again Lewis observes that "all enjoy-ment spontaneously overflows into praise."2~ He states, "I think we de-light to praise what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses, but completes the enjoyment; it is its appointed consummation . The delight is incomplete until it is expressed.' ,22 The richness of this state-ment rests on its suggestiveness as well as on its explicit message. It brings to the fore that fact that a sense of admiration, permeated by love, is drawn to completion in praise. Praise and Suffering: A Sacrifice of Praise If a primal and central quality of praise is joy, what are we to under-stand in Scripture's invitation tooffer the Lord a "sacrifice of praise" (see Heb 13:15; Ps 50:14; Ps 54:8)? It is a remarkably powerful and some-what unsettling image. Perhaps further exploration of the truth that a proper and healthy awareoess of our "dependency" on God is the most fertile soil for growth in spiritual maturity would be helpful. We have already noted that a reverently' surrendered heart is the wellspring of praise. Nothing so ham-pers the capacity to praise as the desire to control and the temptation to manipulate. The focus of praise is not the self; therefore, praise is part of an asceticism. :Lewis comes to grips with this notion in the summary statement: The proper good of a creature is to surrender itself to its Creator--to en-act intellectually, volitionally, and emotionally, that relationship which is given in the mere fact of being a creature . In the world as we now know it, the problem is how to recover this self-surrender.23 "Self-surrender" demands courageous fidelity to the demands of disci-pleship. It urges that we cut through all the swaggering and petty indul-gence of the ego, .that we crack the hollow of self-reliance. The death 36 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 to self that constitutes surrender becomes an instrument of hollowing and hallowing, a means of rooting our security in God. Bluntly challenging, this "self-surrender' '--and almost more dismay-ing than comforting! A superficial reflection might give the impression that this is a negative kind of experience, with no connection to the act of praising. 'Delving more de.eply, we find yet another level of meaning. For praise must flow out of and then back into the reality of a silent sur-render to the mystery of God's love for us--love most fully exemplified in the crucified and risen Christ. In reality, there are no deep expressions of love, no deep experiences of love that are not in some way the consequences of a sacrifice of self. We may deny it, ignore it, or repress it, but deep down we know it is true. Yes, we are involved in a paradox here. Marvelously concrete, Le-wis states: "We shall draw nearer to God, not by trying to avoid the suf-ferings inherent in all loves, but by accepting them and offering them to him; throwing away all defensive armor."2'~ Through offering a "sac-rifice of praise," we are drawn out of the shallows of life to greater depth, to newness of life. God provides us with situations in which we must be more faithful, more patient, or more loving th~in we ever imag-in( d being before. This draws attention to our experience of contingency and limitation. Our fickle natures shy away from offering a sacrifice of praise because the "sacrificial" element hurts. Lewis' insight is on target: "We shrink from a too naked contact [with God], because we are afraid of the di-vine demands upon us which it might make too audible.' ,25 The rich in-terplay between love and suffering is acknowledged in his assertion that Christianity is "hard and tender at the same time. It's the blend that does it; neither quality would be any good without the other,''26 To be poised and ready to plunge into living out this surrender is to desire conformity to God's plan for us. Thus, "obedience" is at the heart of offering a sacrifice of praise. In his book Perelandra, the man Ransom jolts us with the challenging question: ".Where can you taste the joy of obeying unless He bids you do something for which His bid-ding is the only reason?''27 The paradoxical meaning of offering a sacrifice of praise is evidenced in the experience of great joy. A deeply appreciative perception of truth, beauty, or goodness triggers a reaction, or rather a response, in which the feeling of joy is linked with a feeling of lack. Lewis develops this notion by describing his moments of greatest joy as experiences of :'in- A Word About Praising consolable longing."28 Our inability to rest in such moments, to grasp and cling to and somehow claim them, reveal them as an anticipation, a,preparation for full enjoyment of their source: God. Lewis. reminds us that we have "a root in the Absolute''29 and therefore he can state, too, that "all joy reminds; it is never a possession."3° God's design is to keep us on tiptoe, to nourish our thirst for himself with little "glimpses" into what will some day be forever. The painful lack that is constitutive of these '"patches of Godlight" in the woods of our experience"3~ summon us to move beyond. To offer a "sacrifice of praise" is to allow our innate appetite for the Infinite, our thirst for God himself, to dislodge us whenever we are inclined to settle down. Praise and Adoration: Fused Moments of Felicity Authentic praise sometimes goes beyond the scope of emotion; it is the threshold to the transcendent. Thus Lewis speaks of praise in con-nection with what spiritual theologians would call contemplative prayer. He notes that praise is intimately linked with what he calls "Apprecia-tive Love." This love rejoices in exclaiming, "We give thanks to You for Thy great glory." Appreciative love, Lewis writes, "gazes and holds its breath and is silent, rejoices that such a wonder should exist." and he adds that God "can awaken in man, toward himself, a supernatural Appreciative Love. This is of all gifts the most to be desired."32 In an-other place he calls this special love "the gift of adoration.''33 In such a profound and pervasive spiritual experience, knoffledge 'and love are so intimately united that they can actually be identified with each other. To understand what happens here is to enter into the lovely land of the mystique of the heart. "Praise" at such moments involves ~imazement, not understanding; awe, not reasoning. Seized and refreshed by.the overwhelming spell of the loveliness of~God's words and works we exclaim, "How right it is to love You!" (Sg 1:4). In the smallness beyond thought we discover a level where we are stunned by the ineffable: "Who can utter the mighty doings of the Lord or utter all his praise?" (Ps 106:2). There are insights that lie beyond the power of expression; the heart perceives more than the word can convey. At such moments the human person deeply expe-riences the disparity between desire for expression and the means of ex-pression. We are stunned at the inadequacy of the spoken word to inter-pret the heart's knowing. In a sense, then, the highest form of praise is silence-~creative si-lence pervaded by an awed sense of the grandeur of God. A reverential and sacred silence best expresses our admiration and love. This kind of Review for Religious, January-February 1988 silence touches the face of the Father, embraces Christ, and experiences the reality of the Spirit. Even though a loving heart has no words, it cannot contain itself. St. Augustine gifts us with a memorable image: "Love grown (old is the heart's silence; love on fire, the heart's clamor" (En. in Ps 36: 14). He gives us a rich and comprehensible description of the heart's clamor, the melody of the heart: This kind of singing is a sound which m~ans that the heart is giving birth to something it cannot speak of. And who better to receive such "jubi-lation" than the ineffable God--ineffabl~ because you cannot talk about him. And if you cannot talk about him; and it is improper just to keep silence, why, what is there left for you to do but "jubilate"--with you, r heart rejoicing without words, and the immense breadth of your joy not rationed out in syllables (En. in Ps 32:8; see En. in Ps 99:5). In this marvelous fusion of thought and feeling, in the heart's rejoicing without words, praise and wonder are born. In her poem Interior Tree Anne Morrow Lindbergh echoes Augustine. She describes one of those rare moments of ecstasy, one of those inexpressible "joy touched with glory" (see I P 1:8) moments when a whisper of eternal truth overwhelms one with its beauty: Fused moments of felicity, When flame in eye and heart unite Come they from the earth, or can they be The swallow of eternity? Authentic praise springs like a song from the depths of our hearts~. It steps beyond the act of giving thanks because it often becomes an ex-pression. of adoration. In an act of ardent praise we turn to God in de-light, attend to him with loving appreciation. Therefo.re, Lewis can fit-tingly link up praise as we know it on earth with the idea of the ultimate joy of praising God in heaven: If it were possible for a created soul fully to "appreciate," that is, to love and delight in the worthiest object of all and simultaneously at every moment to give this delight perfect expression, then that soul should be in supreme beatitude.34 In saying this Lewis follows a very ancient Christian teaching which can be traced back to the writing of Augustine. Delving into his works, we find he mulled over the meaning of heavenly beatitude: There it will be our whole task to praise and ~to enjoy the Presence of A Word About Praising God . . . all our sorrows will be taken from us, and nothing will remain but praise, unmixed and everlasting (En. in Ps 86:8). He states it again with typical depth and clarity: What shall we do? . . . What will be there? What business shall we have? . . . What activity? . . o This will be our activity, the praise of God (En. in Ps 85:23). The tenor and thrust of this vision introduces into the meaning of praise the essential components of love and joy. Here Lewis writes with com-pelling suggestiveness: The Scotch catechism says that man's chief end is to glorify God and enjoy him forever. But we shall then know that these are the same thing. Fully to enjoy is to glorify. In commanding us to glorify him, God is inviting us to enjoy him.3'~ Lewis' vision is baianced; therefore, he moves beyond the present exis-tence-- calls us to reflect upon the untold resources Of meaning in the es-chatological dimension of praise. Conclusion This exploration into the nature of praising reveals that if we seek to grasp the reality of praising in its full breadth and depth, we must strive to live in the light of the truth of who God is and who we are. What elicits, inspires, and sustains pra.ise is the word of God, the Scripture. Fed by this word the response of praise will become the leitmotif and ba-sic tenor of our lives. Its ordinary, transcendent, and eschatological di-mensions will mold the soul-line, the inscape of our hearts. The contemporary milieu, with its unhealthy emphasis on utilitari-anism and materialism, continues to strangle and corrode our sense of wonder. Its hollow hedonism tends to smother~radical amazement and appreci~ation and their consequence--praise. Perhaps we have bartered a sense of wonder and praise for facts and function and gradually numbed our senses and darkened our vision. Even 'so, the human person has the capacity and power to grasp the lasting values of beauty, harmony, tenderness, and truth. Little wonder that Augustine invites us to glory in the splendor of the truth and good-ness of praising with our whole being: Sing praises with your whole being; that' is, praise God not only with your tongue and your voice, but with your conscience, with your life, with your deeds (En. in Ps 148:1-2). 40 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 This straightforward invitation underlines the truth that praise is a way of understanding, insight into a way of "being" in touch with God. Scrip-ture invites us to sing praises with our "being"--to sing praise like David, of whom it is written: With his every deed he offered thanks to God Most High, in words of praise. With his whole being he loved his Maker and daily~had his praises sung (Si 47:8). NOTES t Abraham J. Heschel, Who is Man? (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1965), p, 116. z C. S. Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms (Glasgow: Collins, Fount Paperbacks, 1977), chapter IX, pp. 77-83. 3C.S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early L~ ife (Glasgow: Collins, Fount P.aperback,, 1977), pp. 182-183. 4 Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms, p. 78. 5 Further clarification on the etymology of the word praise is helpful. Praise is de-rived from the Latin pretiare, "to prize," which in turn derives from pretium, "the prize." To prize something is to value it highly, to appreciate it. Appreciation is a.n essential element of all praise. See Paul Hinnebusch, Praise: A Way of Life (Ann Arbor; MI: Servant Books, 1976), p. 247. 6 Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms, p. 81. 7 Ibid, p. 80. 8 C, S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York: Macmillan Paperbacks, 1960), p. 65. .9 Heschel, Who is Man?, p. 115. ¯ ~0 C. S. Lewis, Miracles (New York: Mac~nillan Pape~'backs, 1978), p. 66. I~ C. S. Lewis, Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer (New York: Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich, 1964), p. 75. ~z C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain (New York: Macmill~in Paperbacks, 1962), p. 115. ~3 Lewis, Miracles, p. 114. ~4 C. S. Lewis, The Screwiape Letters and Screwtape Proposes a Toast (New York: MaXimilian, 1961), pp. 101-102. ~5 Ibid, p. 68.~ ~6 See Julian of Norwich, The:Revelations of Divine Love, trans. James Walsh (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1961), Chapters 34, 35, and 82. ~7 C. S. Lewis, "Historicism," in Christian Reflections (Glasgow: Collins, Fount Paperbacks, 1981), p. 146. ~8 C. S. Lewis, Perelandra (New York: Macmillan Paperbacks, 1965), pp. 147- 148. ~9 W. Hooper, ed.,'They Stand Together: The Letters of C. S. Lewis to Arthur: Greeves (1914-1963)(New,York: Macmillan Paperbacks, 1979), p. 49 I, December 20, 1943. A Word About Praising Lewis, Letters to Malcolm, p. 90. Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms, p. 80. Ibid, p. 81. Lewis, The Problem of Pain, pp. 90-91. C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves (New York: Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich, 1971), p. 170. 25 Lewis, 26W. H. novich, 27 Lewis, Letters to Malcolm, p. 114. Lewis, ed., Letters of C. S. Lewis (New York: Harcourt, Brace, Jova- 1966), p. 250, July 17, 1953, to a lady. Perelandra, p. I 18. 28 Lewis, Surprised by Joy, p. 65. 29 Ibid, p. 177. 30 Ibid, p. 66. 3~ Lewis, Letters to Malcolm, p. 91. 32 Lewis, The Four Loves, p. 191. 33 Ibid, p. 178. 3,~ Lewisr Reflections on the Psalms, p. 81. 35 Ibid, p. 82. Expressing the Feminine: In Search of a Model Marietta Ger~iy, O.S.B. Sister Marietta is a member of the Department of Religious Studies at the Univer-sity of Dayton where she may be addressed at 300 College Park; Dayton, Ohio 45469- 000 I. In The Flight from Woman (1965) Karl Stern wrote about the defeminiza-tion of society caused in part by the scientific revolution of the last three hundred years. The rejection of feminine wisdom, he explained, contrib-uted to a dehumanization which has affected us relationaily. Today a movement flows from deep within the unconscious, that in-vites us to value and express our total personhood, to act in a holistic manner. The strong opposition to the feminine in our culture and tradi-tion is one of the reasons for this movement and for the corresponding interest in rediscovering feminine images. Whenever individuals or the human race are imperiled, something begins to stir within and move them toward the fullness of graced human living. Today we are becoming aware that both femininity and masculinity are innate in each of us and that both are to be valued and given expres-sion. Just as in a musical creation there can be a melody and counter-melody which alternate in prominence, so our femininity and masculin-ity ought to alternate in prominence. Even though in music these melo-dies can stand alone, the presence of the other enhances and creates a fuller, stronger, more pleasing effect. So if either masculinity or femi-ninity is suppressed or dormant, our manner of communication will be less effective or even less destructive. This, in fact, has been the situ-ation in our Western culture. Now that the sleeper, femininity, is awak-ening, new energies are being activated. When activated, those energies 42 Expressing the Feminine / 43 begin to personify themselves and to seek expression. How this creative power will manifest itself will depend in part upon our fantasies, our crea-tive imagi.nation which needs to be stimulated by the symb.ois and mod-els of both our culture and our Christian heritage. A musician receives inspiration hearing a number of different interpretations of the same com-position, yet her own performance flows from her inner well of sensitiv-ity. In such a way the new awakening of our femininity urges us to look beyond ourselves in a new way to reflect upon the lives of people in our tradition, to search for ways of expressing this femininity, ways which resonate with and enhance our own imagination. Virginity Regina Coil draws attention to an ancient understanding of virgin-ity. In her article "Challenging and Reclaiming Symbols" Coll states that at one time the word "virgin" meant "a woman who had grown, to some kind of integrity and wholeness." ~ Esther Harding in Women's Mysteries writes that it meant being "one-in-herself."2 Helen Luke is on to the same sense as she indicates virginity "is so thin a concept when confined to the physical plane."3 It takes On a full and beautiful mean-ing when the older and broadermeaning is recovered. The ancient mean-ing is significant today because it applies to both men and women. It calls for a unified way of being and of relating. It calls for non-fragmentation. David Knight writes about virginity in a similar manner by suggesting that virginity is an active and harmonious oneness of our bodies with every other part of our being.4 He states that virginity means a refusal to respond out of only a part of ourselves, a refusal to promote separateness or disintegration; it is an intense .yearning for integrity. Knight further indicates that virginity accents our unity with others, not an easy task when we have built up our egos and relied on our false identities. Alienation of selves, building of walls, setting ourselves apart; above, over and against, insensitivity and a lack of intrapersonal and in-terpersonal connectedness are violations of this integrity. And so our past exclusionary emphasis on personal autonomy needs to be modified. Hans Urs von Balthasar also speaks of virginity as unity as experienced within someone who is free of division. Such an approach also seeks to retrieve the lost meaning of this important reality. This emphasis on unicity invites us to let go of all that holds us back and prevents the release of energies so necessary for a full life. A musi-cal analogy says it well: for music to be music the musician must involve the entire physical, mental and emotive self in expressing the music. Just as the musician must be totally involved to render the music in an aes- 44 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 thetic manner, we too must be totally involved, be fully alive in order to be effective relationally. Today's movement toward the rediscovery of the feminine is a move-ment toward the fullness of personhood which ought to render us more cap~ble of unrestricted responses. Femininity This present movement toward the feminine is flowing from our new consciousness. Today femininity is being acknowledged and valued. Be-cause of this, various modes of expressing femininity are being sought. Does Mary as Mother present an image for the expression of femi-ninity that can be honored today? Before addressing that question a clari-fication or description of femininity is necessary. F.J.J. Buytendijk de-scribes it as that adaptive dynamism (which) does not elicit any resistance and leads to the discovery of quality and .stature, to encounter with things as they are, and thus to the discovery of value. This discovery, however, is never complete; there is an inexhaustible wealth of value in being that never ceases to elicit a meditative and tarrying contact with being.5 Openness, receptivity, creativity, gracefulness and tender caring are considered characteristics of this adaptive dynamism. This adaptive dy-namism or femininity, according to Buytendijk, manifests itself as a way of being-together-with that is both giving and receiving, that is recipro-cal, and 'not one-sided. This adaptive dynamism is not to be equated with the female sex, though it is woman who is capable of giving the clearest expression of femininity, just as man gives the clearest expression of masculinity. No individual existence in the concrete is exclusively masculine or ex-clusively feminine. It is not possible for an existence to develop so en-tirely according to one mode that it lacks all traces of the other. Mascu-linity and femininity are both possibilities of human existence as such, understood in terms of consciousness or an approach to reality, which is necessarily intentional and equally necessarily a "togetherness" with other being.6 When we are dealing with real people, all that we often can see is a predominance of masculinity or femininity. However, full human dig-nity flows from a balanced harmonization of botlq dynamisms. Without a balance of masculinity we would have a feminine imbal-ance getting lost in a chaos of pathic connection without any ability to stand apart or to objectify. Unbalanced masculinity may be described as Expressing the Feminine the projection of a world of hardness, of stubborn resistance, of precipi-tousness. ~On the other hand, this masculine capacity for expansiveness, functioning in a supportive role, provides a precious balancefor our femi-nine capacity of being~together-with, of connectedness. Motherliness Forms are being sought today for expressing our adaptive dynamism, femininity. This femininity is not to be limited to one form or manifes-tation. A variety of forms is possible, one being motherliness. Motherli-ness is best characterized as a fostering, supporting, cherishing, caring manner which flows from a receptive, adaptive dynamism. It is a man-ner of being that sets aside the temptation to analyze, to plan, to project. It can be described as a presence which receives the other into self and sees and feels with the other. Feeling, though essentially involved, is not all tfiat is involved. "Motherliness" or "caring presence" is basically an empathic presence. It is a receptive presence that invites an inner trans-formational change. If "caring" is truly motherly, the one cared for will feel ~he recognition of freedom and will grow under its expansive sup-port. "Motherliness" need not smother. The one cared for will be free tO respond as herself, to follow her own interests without fear and anxi-ety. Motherliness, as a respectful, careful togetherness in selfless giving, fos-tering, nourishing, cherishing and caressing, is always the powei'.ihat everywhere elicits the unfolding, the realization of hidden potential of what is good, tender, fragile or subtle, whether in human beings or in nature or in culture. This is what happens in human relationships of friendship and love, in real education and in loving work.7 Buytendijk speaks of motherliness as caring, as feminine fruitful-hess. 8 The transformational effect of caring can only happen if the car-ing person conveys that he values the intensity of the connection with the other and if the caring person is genuine. A Contemporary Model: Mary Today's renewed interest in rediscovering our feminine images, in-cluding our scriptural Marian images, flows from our new consciousness, our movement toward the feminine. 19Iodels and images are needed to stimulate our imaginations, to aid in the shaping of our feminine energies. A variety of models is needed because femininity can be expressed in various ways. Mary, as repre-sented in Scripture, is one of those models. 46 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 The images of Mary as the attentive, Virgin, Mary as Woman, and Mary as Mother are receiving renewed interest and are taking on a new meaning. The ancient meaning of virginity as a holistic and integrated way of being is expressed by Mary. She possesses a unity which can help other people find their unity. In the Magnificat we see the fullness of her re-sponse: decisive, responsible, total and caring, a response that made and continues to make a difference to the world. This way of Understanding virginity can give us reason to pause and give the image of Mary as Vir-gin further consideration. The representation of femininity through motherliness can be seen in the scriptural passages which presentoMary as a "caring presence," a presence which encourages a change of heart, a personal togetherness where there is a call of one heart to another, a call to the other in the freedom of each to realize self. Some of these passages are Mary's visit to Elizabeth (Lk 1:39-45), the Magnificat (Lk 1:46-56), Mary at the wed-ding feast at Cana (Jn 2:1-12), Mary at the foot of the cross (Jn 19:25- 27), and Mary gathered together with the disciples in prayer at the birth of the Church (Ac 1: 12-14). Each presents Mary manifesting this genu-ine way of being-together-with, of acting holistically, and with integrity. These scriptural representations, as well as others found in tradition, can serve a dialogic function in our movement toward the rediscovery of the f+minine. By pondering them in our hearts we too might conceive creative ways to shape our lives in response to the invitation from the unconscious to accept our femininity, to live out our total personhood. NOTES ~ Regina Coil, "Challenging and Reclaiming Symbols," Religious Education 80 (1985), p. 381. 2 Esther M. Harding, Woman's Mysteries: Ancient and Modern (New York: Harper Colophon Books, 197.1), p. 125. 3 Helen M. Luke, Woman, Earth and Spirit (New York: Crossroad,. 1981), p. 48. '~ David Knight, The Good News About Sex (Cincinnati: St. Anthony Messenger Press), pp. 30 I-312. 5 F.J.J. Buytendijk, Women: A Contemporary View (New York: Newman.Press, 1968), p. 299. 6 lbid, p. 299. 7 Ibid, p. 357. 8 Ibid, p. 355. Collaborative Leadership in Apostolic Ministry: Behavior and Assumptions David Coghlan, S.J. Father Coghlan reaches management and organizational behavior and works as a proc-ess consultant with groups on planning and change. He may be reached at the Col-lege of Industrial Relations; Sandford Road; Ranelagh; Dublin 6, Ireland. The ~zontext of religious apostolic leadership has changed a lot over the past twenty years. Twenty years ago religious had a very definite pre-dominance in institutions of ministry. They were dominant numerically. They were the sole formulators of policy. They created the culture of the institutions. Lefidership was exercised in an autocratic manner that did ¯ not readily allow for dissent or question. Since Vatican II there has been a gradual~change. Religious life has been renewed, in terms of spiritual-ity, structures, and culture. The number of religious has declined, chang-ing the way religious are present in their ministries and provoking ques-tions about the future of particular ministries. On the level of values there has been growth in an appreciation of the ministry of the laity. Overall there has grown a neff focus of ministry---evangelization--with its en-couragement of a greater openness to the contemporary world and the articulation of the integral relationship between faith and justice. Lead-ership too has changed. In research on leadership there has been a move-ment away from a focus on the person of the leader toward a focus on the process of leadership. Leadership is no longer understood in terms of personal traits but in terms of a process between roles, a group, and a situation. In the religious-life context terms like "collaboration," "sharing ministry" are prominent. Decision-making appears to have be- 47 48 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 come a group activity, with, perhaps, the consequent role of the formal leader sometimes ambiguo.,us. It is the purpose of this article to chart the issues of leader behavior so as to clarify the implications in the develop-ment of contemporary apostolic leadership in an environment of change. Patterns of Leadership Styles Thirty years ago an article written on leader behavior posed the ques-tion, "Should a leader be democratic or autocratic in dealing with sub-ordinates-- or something in between?" That article became a standard text on the complexities of how leaders behave. ~ In the article the di-lemma of leader behavior is presented in terms of a scale, with points on the scale related to the degree of authority used by the leader and to the amount of freedom available to the group of followers. The extreme left end of the scale represents the leader behavior that maintains a very high degree of coAtrol in decision-making, while the extreme right of the scale represents the leader releasing a high degree of control. The points in between represent varying degrees of the use and release of control. On the extreme left point.of the scale the leader makes the d~cisions and informs the followers. The definition of the problem, the diagnosis, and the selection of a solution from among alternatives is done by the leader. He provides no opportunity for the followers to participate di-rectly in the process. Coercion may or may not be implied. Further to the right of the autocratic position is where the leader, rather than sim-ply announcing a decision, persuades the followers to accept it. This ap-proach might assume a resistance to the decision, hence the persuasion. The next point to .the right on the scale is where the leader Presents his idea and invites questions. The followers get the opportunity to under-stand more fully the leader's thinking. The leader is still in control of the decision-making process. The point to the right of this is where the leader presents a tentative decision which is open to cha0ge. The leader continues to have the initiative of defining the problem and choosing the solution, but he is open to influence. This is more or less the midpoint of the scale--all the points to the left are those where the leader's use of authority predominates. The points to the right are those where the followers have an increasing degree of freedom in terms of a decreas~ing use of power by the leader. To the right of the midpoint is the point' where the leader presents the problem, invites sflggestions, and then makes the decision. Here there is a critical change. The leader no longer presents a solution. The followers get the opportunity to suggest solu-tions, from which the leader may select. Giving the followers more free-dom is the point where the leader defines the limits of the problem- Collaborative Leadership / 49 solving process and gives the followers the right to make the decision. The point on the extreme right of the scale is where the leader permits the group to make decisions. The question then follows: How does the leader decide where his be-havior should be located on the scale? How autocratic must he be? How democratic can he be? There are three areas to be considered in answer-ing such questions. Fir~;tly, there is the leader himself. The leader must ask himself questions about his own values, needs, motives, skills, goals, and assumptions about subordinates. His value system and assumptions about people, particularly his subordinates and how they are motivated, are significant elements in leadership behavior.2 Th+ leader needs a de-gree of self-awareness to be in touch with what personal needs are being met in a particular leadership style. The leader's tolerance for ambiguity is another key element. The leader's self-image and self-knowledge are the ground on which an individual style of behavior is built. Secondly, there is the group of subordinates to be considered. The leader, besides looking at himself, must look at the group he is leading. He must con-sider the expectations, motivations~, knowledge, experience, competence, skills, and goals of the subordinates, and how they are interested in and committed to the issues. There is the added complication of the effect of the leader on the group, intended or unintended.3 What a ieader per-ceives to be flexibility the group may perceive to be inconsistency. So leader will need to be clear on °the impact of his behavior, particularly an unintended impact.4 Thirdly, there is the situation to be considered. The leading of~groups does not occur in a vacuum. There is the effect of the nature of the issue to be considered. An issue that has far-reaching effects on the life of the group may require a more participa-tive approach .to a particular decision than would a practical decision that has a less significant effect. There is the amount of time available to be considered. Some emergency decisions can often be appropriately made in an autocratic manner because there is not the time for consultation. The organization or wider cultural context may set limits to the ways de-cisions are made. In a context where participation is perceived as hav-ing a high °value, autocratic decisions may not be appreciated or permit-ted. In summary, there are three areas to be considered in the decision on choosing an appropriate leadership behavior. There are the leader's own values,, assumptions, skills, and self-confidence. There is the actual group of subordinates, with its level of experience, skills, and commit-ment. There is the situation, whicl~ includes the organizational context, 50 /ReviewforReligious, January-February 1988 the amount of time available, the nature of the issues, and the cultural assumptions. The effect of the leader on the group is a significant fac-tor. From a sensitive balancing of each of these three areas, the leader chooses what is appropriate behavior. This requires the leader to be self-aware and have diagnostic skillsin the areas of organizations, groups, and individuals in relation to particular tasks. The emphasis on "appro-priate" is the emphasis that emerges from the definition of leadership that is , ontin, gent on the process between a specific role, the group that is constituted as followers, and the situation. Leadership is situational. The Dilemma of Contemporary Apostolic Leadership The above framework for understanding the choices of behavior a leader has in contemporary apostolic ministry has very cleai" uses. There has been a definite movement from the autocratic, nonconsult~itive style of former generations to a more participative, collaborative style. This has grown out of a number of factors. From Vatican II there has devel-oped a new sense of the ministry of the laity which has opened up ques-tions of how the laity can be colleagues in ministry with religious. Re-ligious themselves, because of the renewal of religious life and the de-cline in numbers, have reviewed their approach to their apostolates. There.remains a~dilemma. The search for the appropriate point on the leadership behavior scale is a real search. There is a discomfort with an apparent slide to the right along the scale from autocracy to abdication of power. There is an ever-growing sense in religious, through renewal of the charism of each congregation,' that the values the religious stand for are central to a congregation's ministry. Religious do not want sim-ply to hand over their apostolates, for they value the mission they have in those apostolates. They want their mission to continue, perhaps with-out them, and certainly not in the same way as formerly. That isthe first area from which an appropriate choice is made. The leader values the mission of the~congregation and wants that to continue to be enshrined in the new situation or in a new structure. At the same time the leader values c'ollaboration and the s.haring of ministry. Sharing is an activity that implies mutuality. Ministry can perhaps only be shared with those who are willing andable to be in a sharing relationship. Therefore, the group with which sharing is hoped for must be evaluated in those terms. Thirdly, there is the situation. The decline in the numbers~of religious must be faced. The state of the world demands an urgent response. The issues are deeply significant. So the choice of appropriate lehdership style is made in the weighing up of the values of the leader, the assess-ment of the group, and the nature of the situation. In those terms it seems Collaborative Leadership that the choice is that of a collaborative style, that is, of a position some-what to the right end of the scale discussed, but not at the extremity. I am attempting to clarify what is actually happening so that relig-ious, by having a framework, can understand it. My hypothesis is that, in seeing that the choices are not simply the two extremities of the scale, the dilemma can be intelligently faced and appropriate choices made. Organizational Leadership A great deal has been written on leadership in organizations over the years. Famous leaders of organizations have written their autobiogra-phies to share with the world how their particular approach to leadership was successful in their organizations. In abstracting from all these ac-counts it seems that a leader of an organization has three roles.5 The leader is an "organizational leader," by which is meant that he leads the organization in a general management role. This typically in-volves being responsible for the accomplishment of the organization's stated plans. It means creatively maintaining and developing the organi-zation's capabilities in its external and internal domains so that achieve-ment of its taTsks is possible. The organizational leader integrates the mul-tiple functions and specialist areas within the organization. These are com-plex tasl~s and require all the qualities of efficiency that are accepted as being a core ingredient of a high management role. Secondly, the leader is a "personal lead+r," a leader of people. He must be personally able to create loyalty. He personally stands for and promotes the values of the organization, and so his actions must be congruent with those val-ues. It is his behavior as leader that forms the culture of the organiza-tion. Thirdly, the leader is the "architect of purpose." In this role he is the custodian of corporate objectives,'establishing and presiding over the setting of goals and the allocation of resources, and making choices from strategic alternatives. He defends the organization from external threats and internal erosion. The instillation of purpose in place of im-provisation and the substitution of planned progress instead of drifting are the most demanding tasks of the leader of the organization. It requires great intellectual capacity to con(eptualize corporate purpose, and it re-quires creativity to recognize strategic alternatives. It requires a critical capacity to analyze the strengths and weaknesses of proposals on paper. A novel system in an American company is one where the pension of the retired chief executive officer is reviewed five years after he has re-tired. The rationale is that after five years the co .mpany will know how good a leader he was when he was in office! 52 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 There is a parallel in relation to religious apost61ic leadership. A ma-jor superior or a director of an apostolate has those same roles. He is an organizational lead,r, a personal leader, and the architect of purpose. He is entrusted with thb effective administration of the organization, be it a region, a school, or a hospital. The organizational leader role is exer-cised in the day-to-day desk work, the eternal round of meetings and re-ports, all working to keeping the organization in operation and fulfilling its mission. As personal leader there is the maintenance of the charism and values of the congregation. The personal care of one's fellow relig-ious is akey responsibility of a major superior. As architect of purpose, the apostolic leader integrates the processes of planning and renewal in terms of the congregation's charism, the needs of the external environ-ment, and the internal resources.6 It involves going beyond the immedi-ate arid everyday decisions and emergencies to thinking strategically about a future to be created. These three roles of high-level leadership can be applied to the di-lemma of leader behavior. The choice of leader behavior in terms of the scale of options and in terms of the three areas of consideration is fun-damental to the roles of organizational leader, personal lead

Issue 38.6 of the Review for Religious, 1979. ; I Will Be--Who I Am Traveling Light in Community: The Oratory St, Teresa, Contemplation and the Humanity of Christ Volume 38 Number 6 November 1979 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published bi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute: St. Louis, Missouri. © 1979 By REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A.: $8.00 a year: $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070: Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November, 1979 Volume 38 Number 6 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Liturgical Spirituality Of Poets, Prophets and the Word Janet Schlichting, O.P. Sister Janet resides at 1314 West Market Street, Akron, OH 44313. The poet Rilke writes, "'For the sake of a few lines, one must see many cities, men and things." He then sets forth a long list of life experiences that will enrich Our treasury of memories, concluding, "Not until they have turned to blood within us, to glance, to gesture, nameless and no longer to be distinguished from ourselves--not until then can it happen that in a most rare hour the first word of a verse arises in their midst and goes forth from them."' Essential to the poet is the perceiving and savoring of life experience. So also is the turning to blood of what is perceived, and the "rare hour" when from that lifeblood springs forth a new word. The life experiences, the turn-ing to blood, the arising and going fortfi--these realities give to poetry its heart. It might also be suggested that these same three realities intertwine to give to prophecy its power and to ChristianitY, its truth. Whether we be poets or prophets or Christians, our call is to communicate. Those moments in which we express our identity are initiated, carried and concluded by the power of word. To all of us are entrusted words. To be human is to have words. Words are the creators and determiners and definers of our life situations. We have words to tell about ourselves, t6 build relationships, to express the meanings ' The Notebooks ofMalte Laurids Brigge (New York: W. W. Norton and Company, Inc., 1949). 801 802 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 and memories and hopes of our lives. Words are human but they are not to be taken for granted. Words are sacred because they are the means by which we grow, and by which we, in turn, nurture growth in others. Sharing with one another our feelings and understandings, we tell one another of new possibilities. Words are tools for building the human community, for forging our future. Words are as resilient as the human spirit that calls them to be. Thus, to have words is to have immense power. To have words is to bear a sacred trust. The most life-giving words are, in Karl Rahner's terms, "primordial words.''~ When a word breaks open reality for us, giving us new understand-ing and new vision, it is a primordial word. When it springs from the heart, when it whispers something of everything, and renders the pulse of infinity somehow available to us, its speaker is apoet--a poet made when the word is spoken. When the word comes howling out of the wilderness, cracking the veneer of our lives, illumining in the suddenness of lightning a raw and throb-bing truth, we have heard a prophet--a prophet made when the word is" spoken. Both poetry and prophecy are entrusted to Christians. They are two edges of the same sword, cutting through to reality. The one comes to birth in the blood within, arising and going forth. The other takes by storm, a power from where the person does not know, only that to speak is a necessity and not to speak is a torment: Woe to me if 1 do not preach the Gospel! (1 Co 9:16). Both poetry and prophecy are entrusted to Christians because a Word has been addressed to them: the Word of redeeming love spoken by the Father in Christ Jesus. We gather to hear and to celebrate this word in liturgical prayer. It is made known to us in and for our particular situation and now. The words 1 have spoken to you are spirit and they are life. (Jn 6:63). If you make my word your home., you will learn the truth and the truth shall make you free (Jn 8:32). When we speak of liturgical spirituality, we speak of three things: the grasping of life, the forging of identity and the going forth--the tasks of poets, prophets and every Christian. One task comes with us to worship; one occurs at worship; one follows worship. The primary truth that these activ-ities together express is the intimate welding of liturgy and life. The first concern of a liturgical spirituality is the way in which we take hold of life, the way we are disposed to our world. For, as the parable 2"Priest and Poet," Theologicallnvestigations HI (Baltimore: Helicon Press, 1967), p. 294. Liturgical Spirituality: of Poets, Prophets and the Word / 803 reminds us, the Word is like a seed. It must find a home. It must fall on good ground, that "good ground" of our lives which we bring with us to worship. And so we are called to question ourselves. Do we bring eyes to see and ears to hear? Do we bring our nights and days, our hungerings and thirstings, our growings, our rejoicings, our failings? Do we bring our brothers and sisters? Do we bring tax collectors and sinners? Do we bring hearts willing to be converted? Liturgy concerns itself with appropriating all of these: the gleaming and the tarnished; the cabbages and the kings; taking it all in--as the poet must do "for the sake of a few lines"--and affirming it. We do not affirm lightly or passively. A.ffirmation goes far beyond acceptance and is more than approval. To affirm, I must grasp hold of and ponder, and thereby allow my life experiences to turn to "blood within." The ability to affirm depends upon a sacramental understanding of human life. To view life sacramentally is to find holiness present in the everyday world of creation and human relationships, in the joys and sorrows and in the decisions placed before us, to realize our relatedness to one another and to the whole groaning creation. To view life sacramentally is to be able to find the glory of the Lord glim-mering, the Kingdom of God bubbling up in the goodness of a Samaritan to a beaten traveler and in the love of the father for his errant son. It is to have a care for mustard seeds and widows' mites, and to know the importance of yeast. '~ To view life sacramentally is not to deny pain and darkness, nor the con-tradictions we find within ourselves, nor our relentless pattern of fail-ure- nor the subtle weaving of sin into our social structures. These, too, are to be taken hold of in the sure hope that amid the terror of the storm at sea, and under the shadow of the cross, we can yet proclaim the triumph of life-over- death and love-over-hatred in the reign of God begun in Christ Jesus. What is this event called worship? The event called worship is the moment when Christians are made and ¢vhen they are made again into prophets and poets. It is a moment when we gather in response to the Word that calls us together, when we bring the ground we have prepared that the seed of the Word m.ay fall upon it; when, in the simple sharing of common things--the gifts of creation, we praise and we thank and we make memorial of the saving action of the Lord Jesus; when our eyes and ears and minds and hearts are again opened to the memory and presence and hope that undergird our lives. It is a moment--a "most rare hour"--when the Kingdom of God breaks in upon us and comforts and confronts us, consoles us and disturbs us, strengthens us, energizes us, and forges in and among usa new identity. It is a moment when we hear and see and taste what we are, and, when reaffirmed in our identity, given again a memory and a hope, we together become again --and more--the Body of Christ. It is a time, a "most rare hour" when, with the Word in our hearts and in ~104 / Review for Religious, l/olume 38, 1979/6 our mouths, we are sent forth to share what we have seen and heard and tasted. My word is not my own: it is the word of the one who sent me (Jn 14:24). Commissioned again as prophets and poets, Christians are entrusted with the Word. It is the nature of the Word to arise and go forth. There is no being called together without the being sent forth. Liturgy is inseparable from life. For the lot of us, the existential experience of worship is somewhat less than that described here. The way we have taken hold of our lives is not wholly affirming, the view we have of life is not always that it is "gift." The ground we present for the seed of the Word is not always too well prepared. In these and in other small ways the quality of our worship is compromised. Oh, we sing our "alleluias"; we say our "amens"; and yet we know well that it would be'a rare moment indeed for us to come bursting forth from worship proclaiming "The Kingdom of God is breaking in upon us!" And yet, that is precisely our commission: to proclaim to the world, "Behold your God!" It is a hard thing, this call. We find here the truth of our Christianity. It is not about privilege but about service and responsibility. And, faced with the utter ordinariness of people and problems, we drag our feet. On-again, off-again poets, part-time prophets. It is hard, preaching this Word entrusted to us, We have not just met the Risen Lord in the garden, so quite possibly we do not come running with his smile still warm upon us. We do not come pounding down the stairs from some upper room with the roar of wind still in our ears. And yet--our God has touched us. Still, in less dramatic ways we are called and sent, in less dramatic ways we can and do speak words of conversion and reconciliation. When the power behind our words is love, when the center from which our words come is a repentant heart, then our words can be a call to faith for others. So daily we arise and go forth: to love and to serve and to forgive; to wit-ness to the Kingdom; to confront our worl~ with its need of salvation; to reach out around us; to build Christ's Body; to strain forward to the fulfill-ment of God's promises. Liturgical spirituality is about becoming poets and prophets. It is about daily living with openness to the Lord's action in our lives. It is about the "turning to blood within us," the affirming of experiences and the forging of our identity in worship, where we gather to meet the Lord in word and sacra-ment. And it is about our going forth, entrusted with the Word. We are ordinary people with ordinary words. Yet, as erratic and clumsy as our speakings may be, we know this: God himself chose the.way of ordi-nary human flesh to make himself known to us. He is accessible to us in our sharings of faith with one another. This is what we proclaim to you: What was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have looked upon and our hands have touched--we speak of the Word of Life. Liturgical Spiritut What we have seen and heard we (1 Jn 1:1,3). And with the apostle Paul (ity: of Poets, Prophets and the Word / 805 ~roclaim to you, so that you may share life with us ve give him glory, ¯ . . whose power working in us can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine. (Ep 3:20). whose power at work in us can make us, in a "most rare hour," poets and prophets one for another. Morning Pra$,er 1 turn the corner of driest prayer to find you smiling amo.ng' the shining children in this raggdd, dusty land and crying with the weary women who carry albaby's body to its stones end, Bitter black~ against a sun-spoked sky. Five strong Icane cutters trudge the dirt sweat-stained sombreros, worn mache es. You'll be tl~ere, arms around them all the way ~o the burnt-black fields, while the silent Senora pleads for p~ennies, and you, a moment's caring¯ In the pla~.~, the youth are dancing. You are~young, Lord, you know the tune . Tonight weIhear a tragic story-- Husband g~ne and children hungry. Tears fall o~ the table-top. Jesus Lord! L~ke Bartimaeus, bhnd and begging, When will ~e truly see our land, Hear your ,footsteps, run to meet you, Find our Treasure, You in all,land all? Sister Wendy Cotter Apartado 460, Chiclayo, Peru Novitiate Formation Agostin Lovatin, C.S. In the course of his studies at St. Louis University's Institute of Religious Formation, Father Lovatin prepared a paper of reflection on novice-formation. He is presently Novice Director and a member of the formation team, residing at Sacred Heart Seminary; 3800 West Division Street.; Stone Park. IL 60165. The central message of the Gospel is a call to repentance and belief (Mk 1:15); it was addressed by Jesus to all those the Father was drawing to Christ. In a radical way it was meant for those whom Jesus chose to be his compan-ions, whom he would send to preach (Mk 3:14). The same call echoes still today in the lives of those the Lord chooses for the continuation of his mis-sion. It is a call to conversion. A radical conversion to God in our case is that process of the transforma-tion that our lives undergo in order to become the best instruments to serve our mission. This process comprises all the elements of what we call formation: prayer, vocation, religious life, priesthood, sending, aposto-late . These elements are harmoniously united together and interdepen-dent upon one another. They develop in due time under the direction of God who alone invites and fosters the new life when the person gives him full co-operation. Because the call and the action'are absolutely of God and depend on the cooperation of the person, the rate and the modality of growth are different from person to person because God in his infinite providence and creativity works through.the most unthinkable circumstances, even through the indi-vidual's unfaithfulness. There is no set order of steps through which this pro-cess takes place nor is there any way of telling beforehand which will influ-ence or provoke what. There isn't either any prefixed length of time that can 806 Novitiate Formation / 807 be made normative for the duration of formation. God's choice hnd man's response make up every time an unrepeatable and unique story. Reflection on the experience and charism of the Scalabrinian community, it seemed to me, could be fruitful in helping others to formulate for their own communities novitiate programs which would nurture and promote the nov-ices' identity with their own community charism and apostolate. Our novitiate program serves only a limited scope. It is normative in a very restricted sense: that is in the choice and updating of general principles and methods, according to the experience and the choices of the community. It is descriptive onlyin the sense that a stated program illustrates some of the stages of growth regardless of the real order in which they take place in the in-dividual because this will depend on the creative action of God and the re-sponse of the individual. Conditions for Entering the Novitiate Novitiate (noviceship) in its real meaning is the beginning of a journey, the first "yes" to God in one's heart; the beginning of a process of intimacy with the Lord that will end at the moment of death. Accordingly, there are conditions presupposed for admission to noviceship. Human Psychological Maturity. Grace presupposes nature. Before an in-dividual can tackle the vital questions that will radically affect the rest of his life, he must possess a psychological, intellectual, affective-sexual maturity that gives him a hold on his life and relieves him from the anxieties this de-velopment br.ings about. Only then can he give himself wholly to spiritual de-velopment. On this condition only can he and the community be safely assured so as to make the formal, mutual religious commitments to his following of the evangelical life in their company. In case the actual development of the personality by the time of noviceship leaves unexplored any significant portion of the major areas of development (intellectual, psychological, affective-sexual), the amount of self-knowledge required for a life-decision would be dangerously reduced and the value of the ensuing commitments would be certainly limited. Maturity means also having acqui~red a sense of independence that means a capability to run one's life in an adult manner. Responsible religious life ought not tend to create dependent people, but should take mature people and make them interdependent. Religious experience. The individual's determination of asking to start the period of noviceship should be understood only as a response to the God-who- calls. Consequently the candidate must have come in contact with the living God and felt his drawing. No matter how simple and unsophisticated this experience might have been, the candidate must have felt in some way the vanity of the world, its principles and values, and an initial attraction to a life of union with God. He must have seen himself as a creature and son of the Father who alone can satisfy all the longings of the human heart. There is no I~011 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 hope of success in the work of the novitiate if the candidate does not know experientially who God is, and does not believe that God can be taken as the absolute partner of his life. The encounter with the living God one way or other, must have generated some willingness to serve him. The individual must possess some concrete ideas about priesthood, religious life and what they entail. Along with this, there must be a sufficient knowledge of the special call to each congregation's particular apostolate: for us this would be the care of migrants. Part of the "yes" to God is the still-vague willingness to leave, to give up one's land and culture, the security of an earthly fatherland, so as to follow the call of those who are homeless and lost in a new country and culture. Goals of Novitiate. Learning how to pray, and prayer itself, is going to be the main goal of novitiate because prayer expresses and fosters the union with God which is going to be the primary reality in the future life of anyone called to an inti-mate cooperation with God. It is in prayer that a religious and priest finds his identity. It is in prayer God manifests and renews his call to him; it is in prayer that God reveals his action in the present and reveals concretely the ways and the means of the still-future apostolate. The apostolate is the salvific action of God in the world, an action that he chose to continue through the cooperation of those who respond to his call. The novice will express and deepen his prayerfulness through the various forms that enrich the Christian tradition. Most of all, he will be introduced to mental prayer, making acquaintance with different methods of meditation. He will experience various forms and, under the guidance of the director, he will search for that particular type which better corresponds to his needs and his character. Scripture will be opened to the novice. It will not be a study of the Bible, but the Bible as the source of the living word of God who revealed himself, and continues to reveal himself to anyone who listens with humility to his voice. Scripture will reveal a new dimension to prayer, and tune the novice into that highest form of prayer which is the prayer the Spirit offers unceasingly in the soul of the believer (Rm 8:26), The liturgy takes the novice into the core of the living Church that, united with her head, offers praise, intercession, pleas and thanks to the Father. The novice will thus share in the eternal priesthood of Christ who alone brings about the salvation of mankind. All apostolate, all building of the Church flows from and to the Eucharist; our apostolic action is the continuation, concretization and development of the action of Christ as.it takes place in the liturgy. Spiritual Direction. All spiritual growth is the action of the Spirit who moves and sanctifies. This action of God is always effective by its nature, However God chose not to force the response of man because he wanted a re- Novitiate Formation / 809 sponse of freedom aided by his grace. As a consequence, the action of God becomes efficacious only when received and accepted by an open heart. In formation, the most important person is the one being formed. He alone is solely responsible for his life. However it is a basic experience in the history of Christianity since its very beginning that this cannot be accomplished by the novice alone. Because of our nature, blinded and weighed down by sin, because of the novelty of the process, it is absolutely necessary to have a guide--one who has experienced the action of God and can direct the soul in its journey. When God moves in with his own light, and the soul is laid bare in its past and present poverty and sinfulness, the experience can be quite shattering. Only an experienced guide can lead the soul through this deep darkness, pointing out the enfolding grace that purifies, through desert and pain, the commitment to love God. God speaks to the soul but his ways are mysterious. The role of the director can be compared, at times, with that of the prophets of the O.T., or with that of John the Baptist: to point to the Lord, convey his message. He will never take the place of God, nor can he respond in the name of the direc-tor. He must keep faithful to his mission by staying out of the way in this inti-mate exchange between the Lord and the novice~ The spiritual director, be-cause of his own life of prayer and careful heeding sensitivity to the action of God in his own life, will help the novice to recognize the action of God in his soul, and help him to respond adequately. He will be in a better position to detect the Word of the Lord, as distinct from those other voices that will speak quite strongly; he will be able to show the novice when he is avoiding, or putting obstacles, to the word. He will encourage, console, advise, chal-lenge- according to the circumstances. He will be a witness and a proof of the everlasting love of God towards the novice. The ,novitiate will provide also other moments of intense prayer and re-flection, such as days of recollection, shared prayer, communal prayer, and other forms current today. Silence. To help set the climate for a gradual focus from the exterior to the interior, from self-centeredness to God-centeredness, it is necessary that there be a constant attitude of recollection and silence. The novitiate will not succeed in its goal if it does not provide an atmosphere of solitude and quiet. The novice has to be free from pressure from the outside to be able to come in contact with his self and find there the privileged place of his encounter with God. He must avoid all distractions that keep him from facing his interiority. Even the necessary amount of leisure and work have to be chosen in a measure that help him to re-create his spirit, not upset and disturb it. At this point he will be invited to a revision of values and priorities in his own life. The society and culture we live in are spasmodically craving for ex-terior action, motion, productivity, noise . There is deeply ingrained a dreadful fear of facing oneself and coming in touch with the core of the per-son. Solitude, peace, interiority, inner motivations are not appreciated. 810 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 Maybe the reason is to be found in the great deal of pain, loss, and confusion caused by the discovery of the dark side of our being. Fear of pain and run-ning away from our self become an excuse and a protective shield that impede going a further step. Silence and solitude will break the circle that keeps peo-ple stuck in this withering rut. Once that we find the courage to risk the loss of superficial well-being and face ourselves, a healing process can take place, and release the vital forces that we constrict in the recesses. A spiritual life be-comes possible. Then the real self emerges in all its riches and creativity from within. Our basic poverty of spirit and incapability of being and doing will open to an encounter with God. Sl~eeit'ic Formation. God revealing and recognized in prayer will start supplying a deeper awareness of a mission to which he will prepare those whom he calls to his in-timacy and service. He will let the novice know that while he calls him to serve and build the universal Church, he wants him to do so in a very specific manner by being the universal Church to migrants. Consequently God is going to renew the call he gave to our founder presenting once more the field of migration as the portion of the Church to which he will send him to har-vest the flock that needs to be gathered and tended. This. is going to be his mission and his name in the Body of Christ (I Co 12:12-26). At this point the novice is ready and willing to receive more formal input about the specific vo-cation and the specific religious family which he is about to enter. The biography of the founder and his writings will provide a model of the call and how to respond to it. The priestly and episcopal ministry of Bishop John Baptist Scalabrini, a man of great union with God, was consequently a man of great dedication and compassion; his work to establish the congrega-tion', his apostolic ideas, his ecclesial openness, his hatred for compromises, his charity that knew no limits, his love for the Church and loyalty to the pope, were to become the prime inspiration and rule in the lives of his fol-lowers. The unfolding of salvation history is mediated through the free response of individual persons (Adam, Abraham, Moses, Mary.) whom God chose as representatives of the whole people and instruments of his blessings. Even in the present time the Church is thus enriched with new charisms by the same Spirit. John Baptist Scalabrini is one of those "whom the Lord calls to be the unique and fitting instruments of his deep, mysterious and providential plans in the world" (G. Toniolo). During his pastoral visits to his diocese he was met with the tragic reality that follows upon migration. By the thousands, his people, because of extreme poverty and a time of political turmoil, were forced to leave their homes and land if they wanted to survive and have a bet-ter future for themselves and for their families. The pain of separation was not the hardest. From the moment they left their towns and villages, their Novitiate Formation / 811 journey was a nightmare, not only given the conditions of the day and their inexperience, but mostly because they were without protection, becoming the easy victims of agents of immigration, lodging owners and travel companies. The crossing of the ocean itself very often became a bad adventure. The new land, once reached, became very soon much less than the place they were foreseeing in their dreams. They found, all too often: --inhuman working conditions --unscrupulous bosses --abominable living conditions --discrimination, loneliness --abandonment by the government of their own country Even when their financial situation was more adequate, their isolation, caused by their ignorance of the language, lack of education, the difficulty of adjusting to different customs and mentality, all these would produce a profound and shocking disorientation. What primarily touched the sensitivity of Bishop Scalabrini was the al-most absolute absence of the Church at the side of the immigrants. He knew that this was hurting them the most. Some even let him know directly. "Tell our Bishop that we are always mindful of his counsels, tell him to pray for us and to send us a priest, because here we live and die like animals. !" (Scalabrini, L'Emigrazione Italiana in America, Piacenze 1887). "That mes-sage," reflected Scalabrini, "from my faraway children struck me as a re-buke." It found a response in his heart: "Faced with this lamentable situa-tion . . . I confess that I blush with shame, I feel humiliated, as a priest and as an Italian, and I ask myself again: What can be done to help them?" (ibid.) His plan of action, and his dreams, were as wide as his vision of faith. He devised a society, the Saint Raphael Society, composed of lay people who would take care mostly of the social and material welfare of the migrants. They were to assist them at the ports of departure and arrival. His mission-aries would assist the migrants not only religiously but also by founding schools and other centers of education and culture. Once this assistance would be established, he saw a new society being born. Emigration, for him, was not to be the mere flux of indigent working forces to more affluent countries to be absorbed in them, but an exchange of cultures to form a new civilization made rich by the best that the world could offer. He saw the world being united by ties of friendship. He also envisioned a missionary expansion of the Catholic faith, given the reality that most of the well-to-do countries were Protestant. It is a fact that national affinity was one of the driving forces that was moving him to action. However, especially after having visited his first 812 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 missions in the United States and Brazil, his vision took the dimension of the universal Church. Besides having accepted a Polish priest to be sent to assist the Polish community in Boston, he began negotiations with the Holy See to start a new Roman Congregation (Congregatio Pro Emigratis Catholicis) and he wrote the draft of the document that would establish it. In the history of our congregation, the novice sees how the action and providence of God has worked in the concrete through the cooperation--and even the weakness--of its members. Both the glorious pages and the dark ones will equally show that our work is the work of God, that he and he alone is the bestower of the good gifts. He had led us through a period of purification and confusion to a clarification of his will in our regard. The present history of our religious family studied under the light of faith should reveal the same traits in its constant effort for continuation, renewal and purification. The place where we find the plan of God for us today is our Constitu-tions. The novice will study and interiorize them with veneration and humil-ity. They contain the spirit of the founder made concrete, and translated into the language of our time to fit our present situation. The constitutions be-come the ~erm of comparison, renewal and challenge for each member of the congregation. From what has been said above, it follows that right at the core and source of our vocation and consecration there exists a tension between two poles. God calls each one to himself, with the absolute exclusivity of any oth-er creature. However he calls to service and witness. The call itself is basically bifocused. Because love of God is genuine only when it becomes love of neighbor, and love of neighbor is charity only if it is love of God, we will have to be balanced between contemplation, and the apostolate, solitude, and being with people, God-centeredness, and people-centeredness, being in the world, yet not of the world. Any attempt to simplify and resolve these tensions destroys the uniqueness of the divine call and makes the person a pure social activist, or a sterile misanthrope. Since the beginning of the process of formation, the novices have to be made aware of, and begin to realize in their lives a balance between the two poles of tension. One feeds the other, influences the other, and makes the other effective. Any apt way to practice this difficult exercise is to expose the novice to the genuine apostolate of the congregation. The purpose is not to learn the ropes or to acquire professional skills but precisely to test oneself on how to do God's work. The exercise of the apostolate does not depend on personal resources but on the grace of God and discovering how to pray, not as a solitary exercise, but in order to continue and carry out the work of crea-tion and redemption. Evangelical Life. Our founder, at the time of establishing the character and distinctive traits of our community, wanted us to become a full-fledged religious congregation. However it does not seem that he handed down to us Novitiate Formation / 813 religious life as some standardized form. Rather, looking at the apostolate, he understood that to perform it there was only one way possible: the Gospel. We understand it more clearly today when we identify religious life as a call to discipleship. Bishop Scalabrini, for his part, never found a better qualifi-cation for his missionaries than to call them "apostles" in his letters and in his conferences. He understood chastity as a condition that made the priest totally available in his ministry to his people, because he has dedicated himself to God with an undivided heart. So great was his conviction on this point that he hardly mentioned chastity in his writings to the missionaries. It was an in-dispensable, undiscussed principle. Most of all, the genuine charism of chastity was eminently present in his own heart. His soul bears the fruits of his life-bearing love. As a young priest he wanted to become a missionary to India. He was sensitive and available to the needs of every sort of people: deaf-mutes, rice pickers, those stricken by famine and cholera. Most of all his fre~edom and wholeness were witnessed by his episcopal ministry: the Chris-tian love he showed his people up to the summons to provide for migrants. Being himself poor and detached from possessions to the point of sacrific-ing readily what could be considered necessary to his position, and even what was most significant and dear to him, he saw poverty as a basic condition for the efficacy of a ministry among migrants. Unless the missionary were de-tached from riches, he could hardly dedicate himself to his ministry, and he could hardly preach among the poor about the poor Christ. One of the main traits of Scalabrini's life was his obedience and loyalty to the pope and to the Church. The practice of this virtue caused him the most bitter sufferings during his life. However he professed that, without intimate union with the Church, there was no way to carry oiat the will of God that is the plan of salvation. To this purpose his writings to his missionary excur-sions contain numerous exhortations to obedience, obedience to Bishops as heads of the local Church. Evangelical virtues. From his biography we learn that, besides these three virtues and vows, his union with God made the bishop rich in evangelical qualities that made of him a true follower of Christ: humility, prudence, meekness, availability, compassion, tender love, loyal friendship, firmness, courage, sacrifice, patience, zeal for the house and honor of God, self-sur-render, love for beauty, peace. Most of all he was ready to lay down. his life for his people. In fact it is known that it was because of his strenuous work in his diocese and through the visits he paid to his missionaries and migrants to America that his life was considerably shortened. Community living. In the writings of our founder to his missionaries he stressed the point of community life as a necessity. He saw it flowing from the call to unity with Christ and the Church that makes every apostolate pos-sible. He saw in it the means to provide the mutual encouragement and sup-port that the hardships and the dedication to. the apostolate would require. I~14 / Review for Religious, l/olume 38, 1979/6 Our evangelical life. When the Lord calls a person to perform a mission, he measures his gifts and charisms to the same mission. Those who are called to continue in Christ the work of salvation are called to a life of identification with Christ, to reproduce his life and ministry as we find it in the Gospel. We saw this happening in the call of our founder who was reading the quality of life-style for himself and his missionaries into the plan of salvation for that particular portion of the Church in which he was called to be active. Our way of reproducing the evangelical life is determined by our mission and dedica-tion to migrants. As we have a special charism of service, so we have a special charism of witness to the life of Christ. Chastity. Our dedication to God with undivided heart in chastity opens our lives to love and to service making it possible for us to leave our family, friends and even our land in order to be completely available at all times. In this condition, we are free to love and to give ourselves to those whom we are called to serve. Our dedication to them. in the Lord will be radical enough for us to dare to spend all our life and energy in serving them. Our love is a free gift, selfless and self-sacrificing. We discover the beauty that is in every per-son. Our Christ-like love will blossom in friendship which is one of the best gifts God grants to a person. Our friendship will not be the satisfying of a craving, the filling of a gap inside our heart, but an overflow of grace from the abundance:of God's love for us. However the novice will learn, even from experience, that his call invites him to purify his heart, at all times, of every human attachment, and to put his trust in the Lord alone: "Cursed the man who trusts in human beings, who seeks his strength in the flesh, whose heart turns away from the Lord" (Jr 17:5). Poverty. The poverty that we profess is a sign and a means to achieve that poverty of spirit that is our human powerlessness and weakness of creatures before the Lord. It makes humility and truth the necessary starting point to recognize the absolute power of God in our life, and to make us docile instru-ments in his hands. When we are poor in spirit we recognize that everything that we are and have is a gift of God, not to be grasped at, but to'build the Church with. The idea that God is the "owner" of everything will also teach us to share among all the children of God. By contrast, we understand that human sinfulness tends strongly to appropriate jealously the gifts of God and use them as a weapon of division and exclusion. Even higher gifts like educa-tion and culture become instruments of oppression and division. The introduction of the novice to poverty will start from the appreciation of material thihgs, their purposes and value, in order to lead him to see all things as gifts, discovering their native tendency to lead back to their creator and giver. Learning the difference between grateful use and possession, he will relish everything with gratefulness. This exercise will soon reveal to him how easy it is to become attached and to accumulate; this difficulty will open him to the idea of necessary renunciation, purification, self-examination. .Novitiate Formation / 815 Poverty is not to become a game or a reason for a more subtle buildup of pride and superiority, but a means of liberation and fraternity. A real appre-ciation of poverty will be shown in the simplicity of life-style. Our call to serve the migrants, to welcome the stranger, requires a deep faith in the na-tive dignity of man even when he is deprived of goods and education. The novice will be ready to dispossess himself of all the prejudices and false priv-ileges that accompany his own culture. To become migrant with the migrants means to participate in their struggles, appreciate the true values of their cul-ture from the depth of one's heart and share their homelessness and rejec-tion. Obedience. In his prayer, the novice will be drawn to know and to value the will of God as the only lead in his life, the will of God that is to bring ev-eryone to salvation in Christ. The life of union that he is called to realize will enkindle in him the strong desire to conform himself deeply to this will of God. Our community and the Church are both committed to this will of sal-vation that constitute them. He will learn that God speaks and reveals himself to everyone if each would put himself in a humble, listening attitude before him. However God never prescinds from the mystery of his will to bring everything under Christ's headship (Ep l:9-10) so that his plans for an individual is always in harmony with the building of the body. The novice will gradually learn that God speaks also through the Church and the com-munity. As a consequence he will make every effort to keep alive and oper-ative the bond that ties him to the Church and to the community in order to become a living branch (Jn 15). Union with God and the Church should blossom in unity among the members of our community. Not any type of community corresponds to our needs. Our community is found in the Word, and gathered by the Word. Its members feed on prayer that they share, renewing themselves constantly in it. Our community is the center of irradiation for our mission. The quality of life that enlivens our communities is the fraternity in Christ that will show the migrants that Christ was born and is risen through being mindful of one an-other, carrying each other's burdens, encouraging, challenging and correct-ing one another; through exercising our welcome among ourselves we will be able to welcome the stranger. By the lives of our members, our communities should give the same corporate witness that our individual lives are called to give. Besides these three headings, our religious life, as a call to discipleship, covers all the virtues that characterize the life and the teachings of Christ. The Scalabrinian in particular cultivates humility, the fruit of his poverty; availability, his openness to people and cultures that are different; patience with those who are ignorant, understanding and appreciation of diff6rent ways, customs and practices; gentleness, a welcoming spirit, simplicity of life, love and respect for those who are poor and simple, the spirit of sacri-fice, and a readiness to move on when our charism calls for it. Religion Can Be a Bad Trip The Psychology of Evangelization Gillian Straker Dr. Straker's last article, "Psychotheraphy: Its Potential and Limit," appeared in the March, 1979, issue. She is a senior lecturer in the School of Psychology, University of the Witwater-srand; 1 Jan Smuts Ave.; Johannesburg; 2000 Republic of South Africa. n the February 1979 issue of HIS' the~'e appeared an article entitled "Reli-gion Can Be A Bad Trip." The article dealt with the high rate of student dropout from evangelization campaigns. It went far beyond statistics to quote what students had actually felt about their experiences. One of the rea-sons students gave most frequently to explain their negative feelings toward religion was that they had become disillusioned with the very people who had first introduced them to it. The article went on to encourage these "religious casualties" to give it another try. In offering this encouragement the follow-ing suggestions were made: Evaluate: has the Bible itself molded your experience or have you been the product of family, school or other people? Make your own decisions. Grow up. They (whoever they be, false Christians or true--a human authority) have been telling you what to do. Now start deciding for yourself. Don't let your encounter with a weak or sickly Christian (or group) cheat you of finding the Truth that can set you free:. 'An inter-varsity Christian Fellowship magazine. -'Stephen Board, "Religion Can Be a Bad Trip," HIS, Feb., 1979, Vol. 30, No. 5, p. 5. 816 Religion Can Be a Bad Trip: The Psychology of Evangelization / ~117' At one level these admonitions seemed to make sense. In essence they di-rect the individual back to examining his relationship with God which is the obvious source of true spirituality. Further, they point out that if one turns away from God one cannot blame others; one has to assume responsibility for one's own actions. At another level it struck me as sad that these admonitions were necessary at all. The advice given that disillusionment with the representatives of reli-gion should not be generalized to include God, or all his representatives for that matter, is sound. However, the painful question that is left unanswered is why the level of disillusionment among erstwhile converts is so high. To search for an answer to this question would seem to be imperative. As Christians, we acknowledge that successful evangelization has its source in God, but we also a_ccept that conversion can be and often is medi-ated through human means. In this regard if the reports of the "religious casualties" are to be taken seriously, it would seem that we who are supposed to be mediators are failing, at least partially, in our roles. Furthermore, the indications are that we are failing, not because we make no impact, but be-cause having made an impact, we do not follow it up in a meaningful way. It is important to question the reasons for this. Naturally there are practical considerations to be taken into account. It would be very time-consuming to follow up every individual who merely indi-cated that he had been reached in some way. This perhaps could be used validly to excuse some degree of the neglect of which we stand accused. How-ever, perhaps the major factor involved in our failure to follow up individ-uals whom we have invited to respond to God rests rather on an oversight on our part regarding the process that is involved in conversion. An invitation to conversion is, of course, an invitation to something that has ultimate value and lasting meaning. It is on this that we usually focus, and, in so doing, we may often see little need to give ongoing support to a person to whom we have offered such a splendid gift. However, by focusing on this end point we may well have lost sight of the whole process that is involved in conversion. Conversion is a process not an event, and therefore evangelization itself should also be conceptualized in terms of process and not event. Doubtless most people involved in evangelization do know this. However, it is easy, in one's enthusiasm to impart the good news or to get others to see one's point of view, to lose sight of the fact. There might well be point, then, to restate some of the known facti~al and experiential aspects of the process of conversion. Carolyn Osiek, R.S.C.J., writing'about what must be the most famous of all conversion experiences, that of St. Paul, draws attention to several issues prominent in the process of conversion.3 One such important issue is that 'Osiek, C., "The First Week of the Spiritual Exercises and the Conversion of St. Paul," RfR, Sept., 1977, Vol. 36, No. 5. 818 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 Paul's transformation did not happen overnight. She points out that Paul himself spoke of a lapse of three years before he began to preach Christ (Ga 1 : 18). Thus Osiek emphasizes one essential element of the conversion experi-ence: it takes a long time. This is a vital fact to remember. Clearly, then, evangelization is not successfully completed when the indi-vidual first repents, requests baptism or initiation into the Church, or indi-cates by some other means that his heart has been touched. Rather this should be regarded as only the starting point. Thus, if evangelization is to be meaningfully completed or brought to full fruition in regard to. this indi-vidual, the need for ongoing support is clear. This is especially true if the evangelization process has netted people who are particularly vulnerable. Eric Hoffer, in his book, The True Believer,4 points out that people who have weak egos or are under stress to begin with are often those most likely to respond to high-pressure political or religious movements. These people, in their search for answers, are usually extremely willing to believe authorized "representa.tives" of the faith. They are keen to join any group which holds out hope of providing answei's to the pressing problems of their lives. This fact, viz., that they have embarked on a religious excursion more out of a need for answers or for a group affiliation than out of a true understanding or personal calling, does not make the evangelizer less responsible for them.Rather, it makes his responsibility even greater, since their very vulnerability and need make him even more responsible by virtue of his original choice to hold out to them the hope of a solution to their problems. The evangelist cannot withdraw simply because his converts did not turn out to be the kind of persons he hoped them to be. Withdrawal would indicate a greater concern with getting the convert to conform to the evangelist's expectations rather than with helping him, within his own limits, to respond freely to God. The difficulties in helping another respond to God without having one's own ego invested in the process are manifold. A close look at church history amply illustrates the extent to which power motives can underpin the determination to evangelize others. Of course, not all individuals who respond to evangelization campaigns do so out of some affiliation need or some need for instant answers. There are individuals for whom evangelization merely clears the path, so that God's call can be more deeply and clearly felt. In instances such as these, where the individual is primarily responding to a personal call from God, it is much more likely that he will survive with or without human support. In fact, he may ultimately be stronger for not having received such support. This, how-ever, should never be used as an excuse for not offering it. The emotional and psychological cost involved in sustaining a conversion experience is not to be underestimated. Osiek, in her articleon Paul makes this explicit. She. points out that Luke's image of blindness approximates in ~Ciled in HIS, op. oil. Religion Can Be a Bad Trip: The Psychology of Evangelization / 1~19 physical terms what must have been Paul's psychic state for some time. She discusses the fact that he must have experienced "confusion, loss, fear, inner chaos, spiritual paralysis, the terrifying feeling that his whole world was com-ing apart. "~. When one considers this description and realizes that it is part and parcel of the process which one is inviting another to undergo, the enormous re-sponsibility involved in extending such an invitation becomes self-evident. That conversion involves psychic trauma is further indicated by the psy-chologist, William James, in his book The Varieties of Religious Experience.6 James, in discussing the psychological component in conversion, acknowl-edges that positive emotions, like love and security, may be involved. But he also points out that the explosive nature of these emotions, experienced as in-tensely as they are in conversion, seldom leave psychic structures as they had been. A fundamental reorientation of psychic structures is a common occur-rence attendant on conversion. That the reorientation of psychic structures can be an excruciatingly painful experience has long been recognized by psychotherapists, who, like evangelists, also work for personal change, albeit of a different nature. In recogniton of the pain involved in change, psychoanalytically oriented psychotherapists prepare to commit themselves to patients they take into therapy for an average length of three-to-five years. During this time the patient is very often seen, at the very least, once a week. This is not meant tO imply that evangelists should be prepared to do the same thing. It is fully recognized that while therapy has only human resources to rely on, conversion relies on God and has its ultimate source in him. How-ever, the point being made is that on a psychological level, therapists recog-nize that the shedding of one's old self is always a painful process, even when one is moving toward a higher level of integration and functioning. If this is the case when one in therapy is changing in a fairly limited way, how much more so should it be true in the case of a person undergoing a radical trans-formation, such as is demanded by conversion. St. John of the Cross was well aware of what was involved, and of the delicacy with which such situations need to be handled. Although the follow-ing was written in the context of spiritual direction and the progressive conversion involved in contemplative prayer, it has great relevance to the present discussion. St. Johrl of the Cross wrote as follows:7 The affairs of God must be handled with great tact and open eyes, especially in so vital and sublime a matter as is that of these souls, where there is at stake almost an infinite ~Osiek, C., op. cir., p. 63. ~James, W., The Varieties of Religious Experience (Fontana Library: Glasgow., 1960L 'St. John of the Cross, Living ~-'lanle of Love in Kavanaugh, K., Rodriguez, D. (trs.). The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross ( W~ishingt on, 1973). 820 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 gain in being right and almost an infinite loss in being wrong. This statement eloquently summarizes the whole point of this article. If the affairs of God were handled with the great tact and open eyes suggested by John, there would certainly be fewer religious casualties and less need for articles such as that in HIS. As it is impossible to add to St. John's statement in this matter, perhaps this article should conclude on that note. However, having stressed human responsibility to the full, lest we should err at the other extreme and see the conversion of another as being wholly within our own power, perhaps it would be better to conclude by reacknowledging that, in all things, "the overflowing power comes from God and not from us" (2 Co 4:7). Now Available As A Reprint Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development b\' Philip D. Cristantiello Price: S.60 per copy. plus postage. Address' Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Religious Formation and Social Justice Stephen Tutas, S.M. Very Rev. Father Tutas is Superior General of the Society of Mary (Marianists), an office which he has held since 1971. Since 1975, he has also been President of the USG Commission Justice and Peace. He resides at the Curia Generalizia Marianisti; Via Latina 22; 00179 Rome, Italy. We have all witnessed the steady development of the movement to pro-mote justice and peace. For myself, shortly after I came to Rome in 1971, one of the first meetings I attended was organized by the Pontifical Commis-sion Justice and Peace at which the Presidents of the Unions of Superiors General, Father Pedro Arrupe and Sister Mary Linscott, asked the Superiors General to urge their religious to follow up the 1971 Synod document on Justice in the World by active participation in the various justice and peace groups that were being organized on national and diocesan levels. We know that since then religious men and women have distinguished themselves not only by their invaluable collaboration with the local Church but also by their own initiatives and expressions of religious leadership in this field. We know, too, that not all these initiatives were always looked on favorably by others, both within the communities and beyond. But we als6 know that there was a gradual purification of motives and clarification of strategies leading to an ever increasing official endorsement of these movements both by the religious communities in their general chapters and also by the local ordinaries and national conferences of bishops. Today we find ourselves in the mainstream of one of the most important movements in the history of the Church. The promotion of justice is now seen to be an integral part of evangelization and has even been called by some a constitutive element of contemporary religious life, If ever it were, the pro-motion of justice is simply no longer an option for religious--as though it 821 822 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 were merely an added feature to the preaching of the gospel. We now see that the promotion of justice is part of the Good News we are called to announce to the world today. We are living in an important period in the history of the Church, one in which the commitment of religious takes on special significance in an-nouncing the gospel to the world in a way that touches the lives of all men and women. The message that we bring to the world is not new, but we are finding a new way to respond to the needs of the world. The whole movement of justice and peace is simply the consequence of the truth that the Church is in the world, and is concerned about the total life of all men and women. In this article I want to comment on some trends that refer especially to this comparatively new dimension of religious formation, the preparation of religious for a greater commitment to social justice: I. Formation is a lifelong process. 2. Prayerful reflection on the gospel inspires social action. 3. Formation at all levels implies serious and systematic study. 4. Reflection on one's personal experience of justice and injustice neces-sarily complements the study of the social doctrine of the Church. 5. The integration of prayer, study and discernment leads to action. 6. Formation prepares for collaboration with others. Formation is a Lifelong Process There was a time when we identified the term "formation" with "initi-ation." Today we understand that the quality that needs to be developed in our life is the capacity for continued growth. Everyone has a built-in tendency to stop growing. Part of our work with others is to assure the conditions for continued growth and to stimulate the desire for this. The goal of a good formation program is not a finalized position but openness to change. The application of this trend to the issue of social justice is evident. We are all learning. Here, more than anywhere else, initial formation is a preparation for ongoing formation. The most important skill to be acquired is learning how to continue learning and to develop that wonderful capacity for continued growth in our lives. Prayerful Reflection on the Gospel Inspires Social Action The most controversial element in the promotion of justice is the discern-ment of motive. Many men and women, including religious, are committed to justice primarily as a humanitarian reaction to injustice. This is certainly a good motive, but Christians should find their fundamental motive in the gospel itself. It is this quality of our motivation, this faith dimension, that must distinquish our commitment to justice. We must never lose sight of the fac~ that the promotion of the integral development of man is related to Religious Formation and Social Justice / 823 evangelization. The ultimate goal of all our activity in building one world must be the explicit proclamation of Jesus Christ. What this means is that we must become more and more men and women of prayer. It is in our personal union with God that we sense the call to go to others with the message of Good News and with a helping hand. Nor must we take refuge in a kind of prayer that is divorced from action simply because the challenge is overwhelming. An important biblical orientation is given to us in the narrative of the multiplication of loaves. The disciples felt that their resources were ridiculously limited in the face of the great need of the people, but Jesus simply asked them to begin and to do what they could. The miracle of multiplication followed upon this act of courageous good will and unquestioning faith. In our programs of formation we must continually refer to faith as the motive for justice and show how this faith is translated into action. Formation at All Levels Implies Serious and Systematic Study Although study is not a new trend in formation, it takes on special mean-ing today when programs of formation are necessarily individualized and geared to the development of personal responsibility. With regard to prepari,ng our religious for a greater commitment to justice, we find that the gospel motive for this is developed further in the documents of the Church. The Catholic social teaching of our time is remarkable. There is "nothing comparable to this in the world today. It is a special gift the Church can offer to all men and women of good will. But we have to study this doctrine. And the habit of serious and systematic study must be inculcated from the very beginning. I do not want to suggest an impossible !ist of documents but I do find the following to be absolutely necessary elements in a basic ,program of formation: 1. Gaudium et Spes 2. Populorum Progressio 3. Evangelii Nuntiandi 4. Redemptor Hominis To these must be added the 1971 Synod document Justice in the World simply because of its timeliness.' To the study of these documents of the Universal Church must be added 'If a textbook presentation is desired, there is in English Monsignor Joseph Gremillion's master-ful study, The Gospel of Peace and Justice, which presents Catholic social teaching since Pope John. Incidentally, Msgr. Gremillion deserves the gratitude of all religious for recognizing the strategic importance of religious communities in the movement to promote justice and peace throughout the world. During his period of service as Secretary of the Pontifical Commission Justice and Peace, Msgr. Gremillion made, through the Unions of Superiors General, special efforts to sensitize religious to the importance of this movement. 824 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 the study of the documents of the local Church-- statements by national con-ferences of bishops or by local ordinaries, as well as statements by national conferences of religious men and women. ~ Another source of guidance and inspiration is to be found in the state-ments of the various general chapters. Since i971 the theme of justice and peace has been one of the principal issues acted upon by most general chapters of active religious societies. What is particularly helpful in these statements is the relation of the founding charism to the promotion of justice. In addition to these statements by the Church and by religious in the Church there exists a huge documentation coming from various centers for justice and peace. Articles about social justice are published continually. It is important to develop a certain familiarity with all this and to develop habits of study that will carry over into a life of the most intense activity. There can be no real commitment to social justice without serious and systematic study. Reflection on One's Personal Experience Complements the Study of the Social Doctrine of the Church The conciliar and papal documents of our time concerning social justice are inspiring calls to action--if they are studied in conjunction with each one's personal experience of the reality of which they speak. The most urgent call to a~:tion comes when we reflect on our personal experience of justice and injustice. Contact with the underprivileged necessarily prods us to do something for the betterment of others. Study of the documents themselves, no matter how inspiring we find the message, is not enough. It is very difficult, if not impossible, to develop a genuine social awareness without actual contact with the underprivileged. A feature of some programs of formation is the experience of another cul-ture. Generally this means the experience of the needs of the Church in other parts of the world, as when religious from Europe and North America come into personal contact with the reality of the Church in Latin America and Africa. The experience of the underprivileged prompts us to ask in what way we are responsible for their condition and what we can do about improving the situation. However, this experience of the life of the underprivileged must always include an openness to recognize special values in them that one lacks in his or her own culture. We must learn from each other. If there is an economic gap between the rich and poor nations, there are also values in the peoples of the so-called Third World to which peoples of the First World would do well to aspire. Such reflection on personal experience is related to the discernment of the signs of the times. This is another way of saying that the faith dimension must take precedence over purely humanitarian and sectarian considerations. What is God saying to us through the events of history? This is one of the Religious Formation and Social Justice / 1125 exciting questions that individual religious and religious communities need to ask themselves. One of the most practical elements in programs of social action is this personal and especially communitarian discernment. Personal discernment is related to study and personal reflection and consultation with others. Communitarian discernment goes on from there. It is an act of faith in the active presence of the Spirit among us and a genuine openness to what the Spirit says to us through the community. "Community discernment" is not limited to reflection among ourselves in community, but also includes consultation with the larger community. On the one hand this refers to the province and, ultimately, to the whole Society; on the other hand, it also refers to the local Church and, ultimately, to the universal Church. Action for justice undertaken as a consequence of such discernment .is well-founded. It is to this kind of social action that our formation programs must be directed. The Integration of Prayer, Study and Discernment Leads to Action We now come to the most difficult point in formation, especially in programs of initial formation: how to translate ideas into action. Yet one of the most heartening features of formation today is precisely that it is action-oriented. We are living at a very privileged time in the history of the Church. We have the documents of the Second Vatican Council, and a rich collection of statements flowing from the Council. We do not lack clear and challenging orientations. And our emphasis on prayer, reflection and personal experience gives us an understanding both of the world around us and also of our mission as religious, so that we hear clearly the call to action. I believe the key element needed to respond well to this call to translate ideas into action is the gift of sharing in the zeal of our founders. I say this because I was struck very much by a remark recently made in one of the meetings of the superiors general in Rome, that our founders were far more prophetic than their successors. Our founders were men and women of vision, gifted to discern the signs of the times in their day and to respond to the needs of the Church in very specific and important ways. It seems to me that today we are giving a renewed value to the specific charisms of religious communities. This involves not only looking back to our roots but also includes the exciting process of discerning what the application of our charism means in our day. Moreover, in international religious communities, the charism of the foundation is continually being enriched as it is made incarnate in different cultures, ' thus enabling us to share new dimensions of our charism throughout the community. Having said this, however, the question remains: "How do we translate ideas into action? It is comparatively easy to instruct others in what must be done but far more difficult to suggest ways and means of how to do it. Of course opportunities for direct action are necessarily limited during the periods of formation, whether this be seen as initial or ongoing, The chal- 896 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 lenge is all the greater with regard to the issue of social justice. There is probably no dimension of formation that must be as action-oriented, in order to be effective, as formation for social justice. Therefore, difficult as it is, we must attempt to suggest how to promote the integral development of a man rather than content ourselves with simply calling for some kind of commitment to human development and letting it go at that. The knowledge of theory must be applied to reality. And for this, there must be a real commitment of time, creativity and energy. There is still another qualification that must be noted. In our commitment to social justice we must always be conscious of our identity as religious. We must find our way, as religious, of committing ourselves to the promotion of justice. At one time in the history of the movement of justice and peace it was believed that the key agents in this movement were the laity. In one sense, the key agents are the laity, but certainly not to the exclusion of priests and religious men and women. In fact, there is a specific role of religious leadership and witness that can be provided only by priests and religious. It is on this specific role that we must concentrate our formation of religious for social justice~ Another mark I want to make about action for justice is the importance of taking a positive approach rather than a negative one. Most calls for social action seem to be phrased in terms of protests. Such reactions to injustice are undoubtedly necessary, but it is far more important to take the initiative, to act for social justice rather than simply react against cases of injustice. This promotion of justice is necessarily determined by the distinctive situation of each culture. But some general examples of social action are the following~. --The use of the material resources of the community for the integral development of men and women. --The updating of guidelines for general and province investments, and decisions taken in consequence of these guidelines. --The use of investments to influence action for the integral development of all men. A religious society, especially in collaboration with others, can, for example, influence justice through the use of rights at-tached to shares in company stocks. --Giving witness of a simplicity of life-style. --Service of the underprivileged in general, and in the Third World in particular, keeping in mind the importance of helping people to help themselves rather than by means of any form of a patronizing "doing for others." --Programs of action-oriented education for justice in our schools and universities. In this regard, it is important to find ways and means of influencing the civic and business worlds to a greater commitment to social justice. Religious Formation and Social Justice / 827 --Participation in programs to help form the social conscience of the laity. At the same time, as we work at those programs which reach beyond the community, we must recognize that, to be authentic and effective, we must also work to promote justice within our own religious communities. As long as someone believes he or she has been treated unjustly there cannot be peace. It is our mission to promote that internal freedom of the human person which permits true openness to God's action in his or her life. To the extent that our religious are really free and open to the action 9f the Spirit, to that extent can they be effective instruments in God's hands for the good of his people. In working to correct unjust structures or practices in our own communities we must be careful not to become aggressive or belligerent ourselves. Many of these injustices come about simply because there is a lack of awareness. Formation Prepares for Collaboration With Others Although formation is necessarily personalized, calling for the develop-ment of a great sense of personal responsibility, formation today is oriented to the building of community among ourselves and with others in pursuit of a common mission, Our own religious communities must be seen as centers of ongoing formation, and care must be taken to try to make our communities favorable to this continued growth in the life of every religious, Efforts must be made, too, to have the local community have a sharper sense of the larger community to which it belongs, whether of the same religious family extended throughout the world or of the local Church in which the community is inserted. The development of a transnational mentality, and at the same time a more effective insertion in the local Church, are important thrusts in religious life today. And one of the features of "insertion in the local Church" is collaboration with other religious societies in the same area. From the moment of each one's entry into religious life, we must em-phasize the importance of collaboration with others: with the local Church; with other religious societies in the local Church; with other communities of our own society locally, in the Province, and throughout the society; with national and local conferences of religious; with national and diocesan commissions of justice and peace; with other men and women of goodwill. As religious communities, in all that we do, but especially in the promotion of justice and peace, we must strive to work with others rather than establish parallel structures. Conclusion Today's call for social action has profound implications for the Church and for religious life within the Church. The insertion of the Church in the world to meet the real needs of men and women today--their integral development and the integral development of the entire human race--is 828 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 part of the Good News we are commissioned to announce. Within our own religious communities, this commitment to social action brings with it one of the most important elements for the radical renewal of religious life. Our commitment to social justice will necessarily stimulate us to greater holiness of life, both individually and as communities. In this question of social justice we must be very patient with one another. There are some religious who are uneasy with the call to social action. Their entire formation and personal experience of the apostolate directed them to a different kind of commitment. The changing of attitudes called for by the Second Vatican Council is not accomplished easily and quickly. While working for the ongoing formation of all our religious we must accept the fact that some will not be able to commit themselves to the promotion of justice in the way that the documents of the Church call for. We must not be aggressive with such religious on this point. But we must he firm in not permitting them to impede the commitment of others who are responding in goodwill to the call of the Church, as is often made specific in general chapter orientations. Not everybody in religious life believes that social action is compatible with religious life; but it is certainly important that everyone in formation believe that this is the case and act accordingly. It is simply a question of recognizing that the commitment to justice is an integral part of religious life today. Annunciation Stirring summer air salutes her cheek, Then tomorrows whirl inside her, Kaleidoscope of thunderstorm and sunrise. She cups a question--"How?"--around the message To know its shape, And strikes white-hot divinity. "Let it be done!" Storm and sun explode In searing glory That contracts into a spark Within her womb. Sister Mary Cabrini Durkin, O.S.U. 1339 East McMillan Street Cincinnati, OH 45206 I Will Be.Who I Am Reflections Culled By M. Geraldine, O.P. Sister Geraldine is a member of the community of Oakford Priory; P.O. Box, Verulan; North Coast; Natal; South Africa. The reflections which follow are writings sent in letters sent at various times by a young doctor working in a very large and busy African hospital. I asked her. permission to publish these, simply because they come from someone--not a religious--who is living in the world, being involved in life, with all its primitive and brutal aspects, and yet remaining gentle, with her inner eye fixed on God--a contemplative in the world. Most of these passages were written over the past two years, during which time she was overworked to a degree beyond comprehension. Her one request in giving her permission was that only her first name be used: "Bobby." I added headings because, in their original form, the pieces did not bear headings, falling rather into the context of letters. Sister Geraldine Me Today This morning It is good to share in the Presence of my Lord. Today, Christ is in the touchables. He is in all that matters 829 830 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 --and doesn't matter. He is Lord of even the mediocre. Today, all I have is mediocrity, And the Lord is here--within all. He promised my coming and my going --my feeling and my unfeeling. I will not leave myself today. I will be--who I am, What I am--with Him. He will have--what I am He will love--what I am He will see--what I cannot see, Unable to see--but quiet In the truth--in Him Who is me. Me I wake in the mornings, and life, apart from the need, The great and unfulfilled need, to find silence, Comes like a great abyss of emptiness over me, Conflicts--tightening and exposing. But today--I felt my own fingers And knew that I was apart from them. I no longer felt my fingers as mine-- I was apart--and I will become Believe, hoping--knowing That God and I will grow together. That God will remove himself from my becoming And become one with my being. And all is more than knowing--this is all! The end of why I am. He has returnedwand I live again A tiny flame of love burns-- And I will be of God. Annunciation Salutation breaks the silence. Words, like rain, drop softly Yet thunder in her ears--as Mary I Will Be-- Who I A m: Reflections Culled By / ~3~ Mother--bends to gather words Which fell on desert earth On drought and burnt horizons. And Mary--Mary speaks her word, And waters flow as streams Through valleys--leveledbhills--brought low. "Do unto me" is a gentle breeze Which sweeps Him into life--through Mary. Contemplation Placid wilderness, You are the cold place--the quiet place and I, shivering in the coldness of your night, I do not mind you. For you have beauty in your wildness And comfort in your darkness And I hold you to me As a singer holds her song Awaiting her final note. Contemplation And I still wait upon His word Though He has laid waste my fields And cast me beyond my knowledge. He has dazzled me in splendor, He has made me sick with love. And though His ways are hard, And tears in solitude have blinded and drenched my roots I wait--humbled--in patience For He calls me by my name And His gracious ways Are beyond my knowledge. Autumn Snow is falling today--not crystals Multi-fashioned of cosmic force-- But life-sprung, from seed and fruit. Our early autumn snow--crisp and dry 839 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 Gentle leaves, slipping on windgusts In their own wafting way Assimilate cold-country snow. Nature Wind, I have rushed like you and blown before me fallen leaves. Clouds, I have touched like you The tips of hills--scudded mountains. Today a man will trample you, Grass, And I, too, will feel your pain. Winter fare It is raining today! Deep inside, water is falling-- And a heart, drenched From constant deluge, ' Hopes for dryness--desert warmth It is raining today, in my heart. Faith To sing relentlessly all my day-- Whether hearing the song, or merely listening for it-- I will sing, I believe-- In heart open, breaking forth-- My song will herald the quiet and the splendor Of the Lord I sing to, Whose music I step to A sound of gentle movement--a manner of being A manner of becoming--movement, Life and splendor. Bobby Progress in Centering Prayer M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. Father Pennington's last article, "The Vocation of the 'Vocation Father,' " appeared in the May, 1979, issue. He continues to reside in St. Joseph's Abbey, Spencer, MA 01562. ~ would like to share with you three reactions to Centering Prayer. Recently I led a workshop on Centering Prayer for the Eastern Asso-ciation of Seminary Spiritual Directors. After an initial presentation, one of the spiritual directors asked; "Is this the kind of prayer we should move our directees toward, with the idea that, when they get there, they will stay there?" On another occasion a young religious was shirring with me his experience in prayer. After his first few experiences of transcending, he said, he asked himself: "Is this a!l there is to it?" Finally, a priest who had been centering regularly for several years wrote to me from Rome shortly after his election as superior general of his congre-gation: "As for the prayer, all I can say is that when I miss it, I miss it." Itseems to me that that spiritual director, who was not yet well acquaint-ed with or practiced in experiential prayer, was still approaching prayer as a project. This is most common. In our accomplishment-orientated society we tend to approach everything as a project--something to be done, accom-plished. There is a determined, measurable, finished'product in view. In prayer the program or project is lined up according to some traditional teach-ing. If a more ancient teaching, we might think in terms of lectio, meditatio, oratio, contemplatio--receiving the Word of faith through listening or read-ing, internalizing it by a faith-response in discursive or imaginative medita-tion, responding to it in living, affective power, and finally enjoying it in 833 834 / Review for Religious, Volume38, 1979/6 ¯ quiet contemplation. We may be sophisticated enough to know that no one of these four will ordinarily occur as a pure state or way of prayer. There will usually be an admixture. As, for example, in Centering Prayer: we begin with a moment of recall, bringing forth from our memory the Word of Faith. Then we briefly reflect on it and respond to the reality it bespeaks. We then move to the center, the Presence, in affective love. And finally, there abide in contemplation. The four stages are present, and one predominates: contem-plation. It is this latter that is seen as the "goal" when prayer is conceived as a project; we want to get to the stage where contemplation predominates. Or, to express this using another, perhaps more common terminology: our aim is conceived as getting through the purgative and illuminative stages to the unitive, where we can, in our prayer--and more and more, outside of it also --retain a sense of our oneness with God, abide in his presence, touch and enjoy him in all persons and things. Certainly this is a state we do want to enjoy in our lives. And we are real-istic in thinking that it is something that will in its full realization come about gradually, something that we can foster by our spiritual practices and espe-cially by serious, prayer. But the fallacy I detect here is the tendency to identify particular expe-riences with certain stages of growth, and in particular to identify a certain kind of prayer, a contemplative type of prayer such as Centering Prayer, with a certain advanced stage of progress, and to make a project of its,attainment. All Christian prayer does imply a certain turning from self to God, some acceptan,~ce, h6wever implicit, of his personal revelation o~f himself, and a re-sponse to that'. This, therefore, does imply some "progress."~But apart from this basic conversion or turning to God with mind and ~eart, I do not think we can bind any form of prayer to a particular stage of progress in the Chris-tian or godly life. William of Saint Thierry, one of the great spiritual fathers of the twelfth century; and of all time, wrote a beautiful little treatise, On the Nature and Dignity of Love. In it he depicts the growth of the Christiafi, using as his analogue man's natural growth from infancy through childhood, youth, and maturity° to the wisdom of old age. At the conclusion of his very~rich and beautiful description, which includes some deeply insightful and loving re. flections on our Lord Jesus Christ, William says: It must be remembered, .however, that the stages of love [we can substitute the word prayer, in each case, as it is but an expression~of love] are not like the rungs of a ladder. The soul does not leave,the lesser love behind it as it moves onward to the more perfecL All the degrees of love~work together as one, and for this reason another soul's experi-ence of the scale of love may well follow an order which differs from the one 1 have described. ' ~ In .other words, if we want to think in terms of a ladder, then we should Progress in Centering Prayer / 835 see the ladder lying flat on the ground, so that we can be on all the rungs at the same time. Growth in the Christian life is a matter of intensification, of growing toward loving God in Christ with one's whole mind, whole soul and whole strength. At any moment, mind, heart, soul and strength should be at play, each in its own inte.nsity. At a particular time one may be enjoying a deep ex-perience of union with' ,God on one level, thanks to the touch of his grace, while on another level still be strugglingwith quite naked passions. In a word, one might beenjoying a contemplative type of prayer, true prayer, authentic prayer, while still needing and undergoing a process of purgation and purifi-cation in regard to certain deviant tendencies, and a process of growth in understanding in regard to some Of the basic facets of the divine revelation. It is false to relegate contemplative prayer to a marked' state Of Christian perfection or to consider its practitioner as one who "has arrived" there. A contemplative type of prayer is a way of prayer open to anyone who truly seeks God.' And it is the type of 16rayer experieffce that frill ordinarily best help one to make progress in 'the Christian life, to be purified and illumined, and to abide more integrally in union with God in and through all. It is, therefore, not something to be worked toward, a project to I~e undertaken, a goal, but simply a way to b~ entered into, an experience that can be enjoyed --and struggled with--by all who seek GOd'. But this means that the experience of contemplative prayer is open to de-velopment. The initial experien~ce of transcendent union with God is not an ultimate experience. The young religious was right to question,after his first experiences: "Is this all there is to it?" And at the same moment he was shar-ing with me, he.well knew the answer, for he had been faithful to contempla-tive prayer through several years and therefore knew !t was an evolving ex-perience. But it is an experience, and an ,experience that is beyond thought.or feel-ing or emotion. Therefore, we are not really able to capture it in words. It is good; in fact, it is of the substance of our lives. Once we have begun to be really in touch with it; to know it actually, we will say with that superior general, "When I miss it, I miss it." While most of the "official" pray-ers in the Church are celibates, the analogy of married love, it seems to me, can best help towards understanding and appreciating ~the contemplative experience. God himself, in'~the Old Testament, when he wanted to convey to his~peop!e the fullness and intensity of his personal love for them, again and again had recourse to the analogy,of human lovers. We, following perhaps not a few of the Fathers, tend to shy away from taking this portrayal of God's love for us with any literalness and are quick to spiritualize it, to reduce it to mere imagery. But it is precisely its integralness on an experiential level that makes human love such an apt image and ultimately makes it worthy of being, in the New, Testament, elevated to the sacramental order as the sign of Christ's love for us, his Church. 836 / Review for Religious, l~olume 38, 1979/6 The analogy has a good bit to say to us in regard to experiential prayer. Those who use the sex act seeking only gratifying experiences rather than holding it as the most integral way of expressing truly human love find it to be but an experience which quickly plateaus. New techniques, positions, ap-proaches are sought to increase and vary the stimulation, but the long-term result is inevitably frustration, or at best something far short of,. full human satisfaction. So, too, the one who uses methods of meditation or prayer to "have" experiences will soon ask, as did the young religious: "Is this all there is to contemplation?" And soon one will be trying other methods, looking to diverse traditions and teachers. But if one is truly seeking God, if.the use of a method of prayer such as Centering Prayer is undertaken to find a way to express one's love and desire for God in a fuller, more integral, freer way, then the method opens not only to a gratifying experience, but allows the fuller experience gradually, and sometimes quickly, to unfold. Newlyweds would greatly deceive themselves and be much disillusioned if they thought their first bungling attempts at making love were all that sex in marriage could be. Rather, as they attain a greater ease and facility with the bodily ex-pression, it should take its proper role as the vehicle for the fullness of their human and sacramental, grace-enlivened love. Then, free from false and exorbitant expectation, the physical experience will reveal its potential' to be part of an endlessly fuller realization of the union of love and life. So, too, the contemplative experience of God, in :harmony with the whole growth of Christian life which it especially fosters and matures, will daily become a fuller, richer experience. But the qualitative growth of the inexpressible is itself no less inex-pressible. One will only know by the very experience itself and, to some ex-tent, by its overflow into one's life, that this experience is an ever more mean-ingful and fulfilling expression of one's being. As a little boy I used to enjoy, of a summer's evening, to sit on the top step of-the porch and just be there. There was something indescribably good about being there. In the background my grandparents sat, silently, on the porch swing, rarely exchanging a word. I realize now that that something that made this an especially good and memorable experience was the currents of love that flowed between these two whose understanding and communion had matured through m~any decades. And these currents reached ou.t to enfold me. The man or woman whose love of God has matured through years of intimacy is the one whose presence brings enfolding love. We usually call such a person a saint. But the person himself is usually too much in ttie current of love and its outreach to notice anything special going on on the outside. In regard to the inner reality he is apt to say with the Prophet, "My secret is mine. My secret is mine." Many, though, will still be inclined to ask: "As we go on in Centering Prayer, won't we be aware of some progress? Won't we have a greater fa-cility? Won't there be fewer thoughts, greater peace, etc.?" I think in actual Progress in Centering Prayer / 837 fact we say "yes" to such questions. Yet I say that with some hesitancy and fear, for as soon as we begin to approach theprayer with any expectations, in any way seeking something for ourselves, instead of purely and simply seeking God, we undermine the purity of the prayer and thereby impede our" progress. Undoubtedly, as we repeatedly settle:into the prayer, we gain a greater fa-cility to do so. As the prayer grows in meaningfulness for us, a certain eager-ness aids our entry into it. As a greater love compels us to seek the Lord more wholeheartedly, we will more readily let go of lesser concerns so as to turn ourselves to the presence in our depths. Our chosen "word" will grow in its facility to take us to the depths. In fact, at quiet moments when we are initially not thinking of prayer, the word will arise spontaneously, beckoning us to enjoy a moment's repose in the center. With regard to thoughts: Yes, in general we might expect that after a time they will be less.interfering. The basic surface flow of thoughts and images will depend largely on our own particular make-up. Some of us will always be more given to thoughts and feelings than others. But as we grow in love and detachment--two of the many fruits of this prayer--a particular thought will be less apt to get a hold on us and pull us away from the presence at the center. Experience will teach us more and more to ignore the apparent or real inspirations and brilliant ideas. We will know that they are actually usually half-baked, that they will usually emerge again at some free moment when we will have the leisure to evaluate and use them. As for our little friend, the monitor of self-reflection, with the growth of God-centered love and detachment from self and with his simply being ignored he will gradually give up--at least to some extent. As the author of The Cloud of Unknowing assures us: Should some thought go on annoying you, demanding to know what you are doing, answer with this one word alone, if your mind begins to intellectualize over the meaning and connotations of this little word, remind yourself that its value lies' in its simplicity. Do this and I assure you these thoughts will vanish. Why.'? Because you have refused to develop them with arguing (c.7). Increasing peace will let us move through life with less stress, and re-peated soakings in Centering Prayer will release the built-up stresses of the past, so there will be less need of thoughts on that score. So, all in all, we should ordinarily, as time goes on, be freer and freer from thoughts, left more to enjoy uninterruptedly the presence. All of this is apart from an increased activity on the part of God to draw us into a deeper experience of himself through the graces of what some authors have called "passive contemplation." The Lord, of course, is always free to take special intiative and, if he wants, to take us so beyond our own center into himself to the extent that we can only speak of ecstasy. But until he so takes a hand in things there will always be some mental activity. And we should expect recurring difficult periods as he leads us into deeper and deeper freedom through a more thoroughgoing purification. 838 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 At every stage the rule remains the same: Whenever we become aware of anything we simply let it go by, gently returning to the center by the use of our prayer word. Becausb the development we are concerned with herb is essentially a ques-tion of experience, it can, to put it simply, be known only by experience. The Fathers, when speaking of this, repeatedly say--and I must admit it sounds at first hearing a bit snobbish: Those who have experienced this know what I am talking about. And those who have not, pray that you may have the experi-ence, and then you will know. I have often told people that if, before I entered thee monastery, anyone had ever given me an idea of the pain and sorrow I would encounter in my years as a monk, 1 would have run fast in the opposite direction, because they could never have conveyed to me the experience of love that I would find. Such experience can be gained only in the living. Having that experience, l have never for a day,'an hour or even for a moment regretted having re-sponded to the Lord's most merciful and gracious invitation. We have to enter into the experience of Centering Prayer and let it reveal itself to us day by day. I entered the monastery and stayed long enough to "taste and see how sweet is the Lord" because I heard and saw the witness of those who were willing to share this way with me. So too, we need to hear the witness and see in the lives of others the fruit of Centering Prayer to induce us to practice it faithfully until itself can reveal to us its own meaning. And we, in turn, need to share.what we receive and let the beauty of the Lord's work in our live~ shine forth so that others will be attracted to begin and persevere in the practice till they, too, know and can share. "Freely have you received, freely give." One can then rightly expect to. make progress in Centering Prayer. But one should not see that progress primarily, or try to evaluate it, by what hap-pens on the level of thought or feelings during the prayer. The reduction of thoughts, the feeling of peace and so forth are truly accidental' and no true norm of what is going on. Above all we need to avoid coming to this prayer with expectations. For expectations involve seeking something for ourselves --seeking in some way ourselves--and this undermines the very essence of this prayer which is essentially a total, pure seeking of God, a total giving over of ourselves to him. Only I~y a repeated abiding in this will we, bit by bit, die to our false selves and live more freely unto God so that we come to know more and more fully the expbrience of being, through a union of love, one with our V~ery God. Sisters and Nurses Joseph H. Fichter, S.J. This article is part of a larger study being prepared in regard to religion and pain, focusing on the hospital personnel who bring the consolations of religion to the sick. Father Fichter, of Loyola University (New Orleans) is presently on sabbatical leave. He is residing at Corby Hall; Univer-sity of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, IN 46556. he occupational role of women has been Changing rapidly in the recent past of American society. Women are given assurances by affirmative-action emPloyers that they will have job opportunities equal to those of males in the work force. Nevertheless there is still the stereotype and the actuality of certain kinds of "women's work" as exemplified in some areas of the helping professions: social work, school teaching and.nursing. Even in these areas, both in the Church and in the larger society, the manggerial positions are.still largely in the hands of males. The statement of Vatican II, that "wpmen claim for themselves an equitywith men before the law and in fact," is still short of achievement.' Our specific quest for the spiritual ,dimensions of health care focuses here on the women who are engaged in the personal service to the sick in Catholic hospitals. Many religious women hold responsible~positi~ons in administra-tion in the hospital system, just as they do in the field of Catholic education. If spirituality is exemplified anywhere in the Catholic hospital system it ought to be found among the women who have dedicated their lives to God in the service of sick and needy people. Historically, there gradually developed groups of Christian women who formed religious communities specifically 'Gaudium et Spes, n. 9.The first papal statement on equal rights of women came from John XXIII in Pacem in Terris (1963), n. 41. 839 840 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 dedicated to health care. In later years they have been joined by more and more trained and dedicated lay women in the nursing care of people in pain, The Helping Professions Vocational opportunities for women within the American Catholic Church have been in traditional female occupational roles, with the largest number in the Catholic school system. A survey of female religious person-nel, made about two decades ago, showed that 81o70 were teaching, 120707 were in hospital work, and the rest in several forms of social work.2 About nine out of ten of all fulltime teachers in the Catholic school system were female (61 o70 sisters and 28o70 lay women). Teaching is still the Catholic occu-pation that employs the largest number of women, but the proportion of lay women teachers has increased significantly while the number of elementary parochial schools has declined. Women continue to dominate in the Church's institutions of education and social service but numerous factors account for the shift of emphasis indicated in the following table. We have already seen that the number of Catholic hospitals and schools of nursing have dramatically declined. With the lower birthrate, the numbers of orphanages and infant asylums have also gone down. On the other hand, the growing proportion oi~ the elderly in our society has resulted in the establishment of more homes for the aged. Every large diocese in the country has a variety of institutions to carry on the works of mercy, and they hire professional social workers, most of whom are women. These organizations have different labels while covering approx-imately the same~kind of services to the needs of the people~ Most of them had been under the title of Catholic Charities, but are also known as the Department of Christian Service, Family Life Bureau, Program for Refugees and Migrants, and often there are special committees for types of handi-capped persons, the lame, the blind and the deaf. None of these apostoli( ministries could continue to function ~successfully if there were not large numbers of conscientious and trained women available. Table l--Distribution of Establishments in Which Catholic Women Religious Are Employed, 1963 and 1978 1963 1978 Parochial,Elementary Schools 10,322 7,959 Hospitals and Sanatoria 946 728 Schools of Nursing 342 124 Homes for the Aged 357 486 Orphanages and Infant Asylums 258 204 Protective Institutions 134 122 When these diocesan bureaus and committees first began they were 2See Jospeh H. Fichter, Religion as an Occupation (Notre Dame, University of Notre Dame Press, 1961), pp. 145-148. Sisters and Nurses / 841 almost always headed by a clergyman--a monsignor if the post was pres-tigious enough--and may have included one or two professionally trained religious sisters. As the social needs became more apparent and as these insti-tutions increased in size, they employed more and more lay women social workers. The helping professions also grew more demanding for further and more complicated education and training. The criterion for employment began to place almost as much emphasis on the fact that a woman was trained for the work as on the fact that she was of the Catholic faith. The feminist movement has brought forth many legitimate complaints about discriminatory sexism in organized religion, and particularly in the Roman Catholic Church.~ There is, however, one positive aspect that is fre-quently overlooked. It is only within the Catholic Church that large numbers of women, religious sisters, hold important positions in the faculty and ad-ministration of women's colleges. This is true also of the other establishments listed in the above table, where nuns held responsibility for hospitals and orphanages and old folks' homes, and other facilities in Catholic charities. Before the Second Vatican Council there was occupational upward mobility for Catholic women, but it was almost exclusively for the members of relig-ious congregations.' While the sex distribution of the respondents to this study is not meant to reflect the actual proportions of men and women in these Catholic hospitals, we find that almost two-thirds of them (64%) are female. The listing of hos-pitals in the Catholic Directory usually provides the names of the administra= tot and the priest chaplain, and the number of religious sisters and nurses. It does not reveal how many males are employed at the hospital, but simple observation and experience in these hospitals demonstrate that females far outnumber males. The number of women physicians is gradually increasing, but there continues to be a predominance of males in the medical staff of these hospitals. Fewer Women Religious When Cardinal Suenens published his popular book, Nun in the World, in 1963,~ the American religious women were busy about improved profes-sional training and an expanded apostolate. Various options were earnestly discussed and we were reminded that "the hospital apostolate is almost unlimited: contact with patients in apostolic follow-up in their homes; con-tact with the families of patients, often themselves spiritual patients for our ministrations; home visiting of the sick and aged in the parish; organizing ~See Mary Daly, The Church and the Second Sex (New York, Harper and Row, 1968), Chapter I, "The Case Against the Church." 'See Sally Cunneen, Sex: Female; Religion: Catholic (New York, Holi, Rinehart and Winston, 1968), Chapter 7, "Nuns in Evolution. " 'Leon-Josef Cardinal Suenens, Nun in the Worm (Philadelphia, Westminster, 1963). 842 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 retreats and recollection-days for different categories of patients, for doc-tors, nurses, personnel; organizing action groups of the same categories ~for training in the apostolate and in their roles in. the Church.''6 It was a time of great aspirations when almost unlimited opportunities for development lay before the American congregations of religious women. In 1966, the year after the,close of the Second Vatican Council the number of religious Sisters reached its,peak, 181;421. By 1978 this number had shrunk to 129,391, and the repercussions of this .shrinkage were felt in all the Church apostolates where the nuns had been making their greatest occupational con-tribution. Fewer young women were entering the novitiates of religious con-gregations to replace those who had died and especially to fill the roles of the large numbers who resigned from the sisterhoods.7 There is no need to dis-cuss here the reasons for this decline in the numbers of vocations among women :religious, a decline:which is apparent also in all Catholic male church professionals: priests, brothers, seminarians. Meanwhile the American Catholic population continued to grow; new dioceses were established and new parishes were opened. Because of the shortage of sisters to staff the elementary and secondary schools many of them had to close down and others had to employ a growing echelon of lay teachers. The lack of religious women to staff and administer Catholic schools of nursing was one of the reasons, why so many of.them went out of existence. Many changes of personnel occurred also in the Catholic hospital system. ~ With the exception of three institutions operated by congregations of religious brothers, all of the hospitals of this study are under the auspices of religious congregations of women. Some of the largest of these hospitals have more than twenty-five nuns on the staff,8 but the average number for all of them is 11.1 religious sisters. In otherwords, the 297 sisters' hospitals of this survey had 3,300 religious women serving the patients in various capacities. The following table reveals their distribution in the several categories of hospital work. ~ ; Table 2--Occupational Distribution of 3,300 Religious Sisters in 297 Catholic Hospitals Number Percent Bedside Nurses 556 16.9 Pastoral Care 657 19.9. Supervisors 905 27~4 Other Positions ~ 1,182 35.8 °Sister,Gertrude Donnelly, The Sister Apostle (Notre Dame, Fides, 1964), p. 21. 'For a sociolological analysis of this phenomenon see Helen Ebaugh, Out of the Cloister (Aus-tin, University of Texas Press, 1977). For an earlier study see Joseph H. Ficter, Religion as an Occupation, Chapter 8, "Giving Up the Vocation." 'For the correct definition of sisters and nun's see W. B. Ryan, New Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 10, p. 575 for "nun," and vol. 13~ p. 261, for "sister." Sisters and Nurses Most of the religious sisters who took hospital training and became reg-istered nurses say that they had originally intended to exercise their apostolic ministry as bedside nurses. Indeed, when the oldest of these' hospitals was first established practically all of the bedside nursing was done by religious sisters. This was the direction in which their vocation lay, I~ut circumstances decreed otherwise. Over the decades, as the hospitals expanded and the num-ber of patients multiplied, many lay women were trained in nursing while many of the sisters became head nurses and supervisors or moved into admin-istrative positions. At the present time, and among the hospitals answering this survey, almost three out of ten (28~/0) do not have any sisters at all in the role of bedside nursing. A'young lay nurse in a Catholic hospital of over 350 beds told us that she knew of only three bedside nursing sisters out of the 238 nurses in the hos-pital. She felt that the sisters have certain educational ~iiad [9rofessional ad-vantages in belonging to religious congregations, '~They"don't have to pay for their own training and education, and they are able to get bachelor's and master's degrees in nursing. They get to be supervisors on the different floors and wardSof the hospital. The sisters, of course, are the administrators of.th6 hospital.''It is true that the sister nurses answering our questionnaire are twice as likely as the non-sisters to have attained an acad6mic degree. Many of the hospitals conducted by religious congregations of women continue to have a sister as president, chief executive or administrator, but there is a gradually increasing proportion that now employ trained lay per-sons in positions of top management. From the point of view of personal and spiritual contact with sick people, however, the most significant switch for sisters has been away from the immediate beds.ide care of the sick. It is inter-esting that the largest single category of sisters iri Table 2 is made up of women iff"'other'' positions which constitute an interminable listing in the financ( office, the cafeteria, the laundry, the laboratory, and elsewhere in the hospital.9 This does not mean that all of these positions are filled by sisters who-were formerly involved in nursing. As a matter of fact; most of them were trained and educated for non-medical occupations. '~ Non,Sister Nurses As the numbers of religious women decline, and as they move from bed-side nursing to 'Supervisory 'positions and to other hospital functions, their prayerful influence on the patients will be funneled through the nurses work-ing under their direction. Whether or not this will lessen the influenceof the consolations of religion to sick people will probably depend on the extent to which the lay women nurses fulfill the spiritual functions of the Catholic hospital s~,stem. "If a Catholic .health facility is to witness to Christian values ~The Variety of people who deal directly or indirectly with the patient is listed by Beverly Du Gas, Introduction to Patient Care (Philadelphia, Saundcrs, 1977), p. 104. ~144 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 today, it must do so through the services rendered and values expressed by its employees in their contacts with patients and fellow staff.'''° At the present time in these Catholic hospitals the vast majority of the nurses are lay women, and almost one-third of them (32°70) are not members of the Catholic Church. For the most part, however, they are Christian believers and have affiliation with various Protestant churches. The compar-isons we make here between the sisters and non-sisters who are nurses do not revolve around their technical and medical skills. The non-sisters are on the average two years younger than the sisters, have been in hospital work for fewer years, and fewer have academic degrees in nursing. We assume, how-ever, that all these nurses have been tested for professional competence and are retained in employment on the basis of experience and proven ability to deal with sick people. The comparative analysis then centers on questions of faith, spirituality, the consolations of religion. One of the puzzling differences between these two categories of nurses is that the lay women appear to have a higher appreciation of the hospital's efforts to bring religion to the patients. When we asked them, "In general, how is spiritual ministry to the sick rated in this hospital?" the lay nurses were much more likely (70°70) than the sister nurses (540/0) to give a high rating. We asked them also to make a general assessment of pastoral care at their hospital," and again the non-sisters were more likely (56°70 to 310/0) than the sisters to say that it is "excellent." Indeed, one-fifth of the sisters assessed it as "only fair." One may speculate that because of their religious training and professed ideals, the sisters have higher expectations of the hospital's spiritual ministry and place greater demands on the people in the pastoral care department. In other words, they are less easily satisfied with the quality of spiritual care than are the non-sisters. It is likely also that they pay closer attention and know more about the actual ministry that is being conducted for the religious benefit of the sick patients. Religious practices are more central to their whole way of life, both personal and professional, and this seems certain to sharpen their awareness of others. The proportional responses were switched when we asked the much more personal question about their own spirituality. When we asked to what extent these hospital nurses considered spiritual ministry to the sick an aspect of their own daily work, a higher percentage of sisters (~87°/0) than of non-sisters (71070) said that they consider it "essential." There was practically the same proportional difference (87°70 to 73070) of agreement to the statement that '°William Kenney and Charles Ceronsky, "Developing Christian Values in a Catholic Health Fa-cility," Hospital Prog~'ess, vol. 55, October, 1974, pp. 32, 36-37. "A similar question asked of patients in a large Catholic hospital in Minnesota elicited responses that differed according to the church affiliation of the patient. See Cashel Weiler, "Patients Evaluate Pastoral Care," Hospital Progress, vol. 56, April, 1975, pp. 34-35, 38. Sisters and Nurses / 845 "you can't be a good health professional unless you have a spiritual perspec-tive on life." We proposed also the statement that "the holistic approach in modern health care has to include spiritual ministration to patients." Here again the sisters were much more likely (8007o) than the non-sisters (57070) to say that they "strongly agree" with this statement. It is clear then that the religious conceptualization of the health care pro-fession is of greater significance to the women religious than it is to the non-sisters. Nevertheless, many of the lay women give the impression of deep spir-itual solicitude. "There is a manner about them; they are comfortable with themselves and this is reflected in the way they are with peers, with patients and families. I mean there is a love there that is radiated to others." These remarks were made by a clinical nurse specialist who has been friend and counselor of many nurses. Both types of nurses say that they pray for God's guidance in the work they do daily with sick people, and this tends to be a relatively brief petition for divine help rather than a formal meditative prayer. Practically all of the sisters, and about seven out of ten of the non-sisters report that they "reg-ularly pray" for their patients, asking God to relieve their pain and anxieties. In approximately the same comparative proportions they also say that they "sometimes pray" with patients. Aside from the pastoral care department, which now also includes women, the hospital nurses constitute the main instrument for bringing the consolations of religion to people in pain. Summary The helping pr6fessions of personal service in the Catholic Church are largely in the hands of women, mainly in school teaching, secondly in hos-pital work, and also in social work. In the early sixties there was almost unre-strained enthusiasm about the prospects for women's i'eligious orders. In spite of later charges of sexism, the Catholic Church was the only system in the country that provided opportunities of upward mobility for women in schools and colleges, hospitals, and departments of social welfare. The drastic decline of membership in the religious congregations forced some shifts in the occupational distribution of sisters. Many .parochial schools closed down. Hospitals either retrenched their work force, or hired more and more lay women. The hospital sisters themselves tended to move from bedside nursing to supervisory and administrative positions. Their contact with patients, and their opportunities for spiritual consolation, became remote and less personal. The majority of nurses now in Catholic hospitals are lay women, a signif-icant number being non-Catholics. Nevertheless, they hold the pastoral min-istry to the sick in high regard. The majority of them appreciate the need of a spiritual perspective in health care and agree that spiritual ministry to the sick is an integral aspect of their job as nurses. In personal habits of prayer, how-ever, the religious sisters have more training, experience and appreciation. On Monastic Sexuality James M. Deschene, O.S.B. Brother James' last article, "The Mystic and the Monk: Holiness and Wholeness," appeared in the issue~of July, 1979. Since then, Brother's address has changed to: Ecumenical Monks; P.O. Bo~ 462; Oakdale, NY 11769. monk, almost by definition, is an enigmatic figure. Where most men and women seek out solid niches in society, the monk remains on the fringes, a shadow-figure hard to categorize. While most people seek to make names for themselves and build families to succeed them, the monk.stands apart in a curious,.anonymity, "surrounded by an aura of solitude whidh the modern world finds fascinating, though not perhaps entirelE appealing. Yet of all the enigmatic aspects of the monk's life,°perhhps nothing is more odd to the modern mind than his permanent commitment to a celibate life. There must be moments in the frenetic busyness of life when the monk's solitude appeals to many; moments when his quiet anonymity looks like a sweet .relief from the constant checks and appraisals society makes of most men. and women; moments, too, when the odd "outlaw'.~ freedom of the monk appeals to those whom society has neatly imprisoned in its labels and categories. One can imagine much of the monk's life having at times a certain appeal and enviability for many people, But it would be the rare person, in-deed, who found himself envying the celibacy of the monk's life. ~ In our time--l~erhapS more than in any previous age--celibacy is an enigma and a mystery. But it is through this mystery, faithfully lived out from day to day, that the monk is finally led to a fulfillment and a peace the modern world so desperately seeks y~t so rarely finds. Let it be clear at once that all this is not to say that celibacy ought to be 846 On Monastic Sexuality lived by everyone--it should not. Nor that celibacy is the only path to fulfill-ment and peace--it is not. No sensible person would make such claims. Yet celibacy is~meant to bring into the monk's life a.dimension present, though usually obscured, in the life of every man and ~woman. In being faithful to his commitment to the celibate life, the monk provides an essential witness to this dimension and to its value in the life of authentically human men and women. This is the dimension of intimacy in human love. We cannot hope to understand the mystery of celibacy until we have ex-plored the mystery of intimacy in human life. I suspect, in fact, that much of the modern negative view of celibacy has arisen out of a failure to see and appreciate this deep bond between celibacy and intimacy. Much negative feel-ing- sad to say--must also be attributed to the failure of many celibate reli-gious either to be genuinely celibate or, more commonly, to live celibate lives which radiate rich and deep intimacy. So many celibate men and women have failed tQ generate and radiate the deep affection and luminous warmth that is kindled by genuine intimacy in persons who are not merely unafraid of inti-macy but embrace it joyfully and embody it in their lives. There are few sad-der and more tragic figures in the world than those monks and nuns who, after years in Christ's~,service, have not bloomed with warm human love. These are men and women whose hearts should have blazed like suns with love, yet now lie cold and dead within them. The tragedy is very much theirs, but it is everyone's tragedy too. For it was )ust through these prophetic fig-ures that Christ wanted to work in the world living signs of love. Through them, through their commitment to him, Christ hoped to work miracles of grace, to convince the world that to be human is to be gloriously loving and alive. It was to these figures that the world would come to drink living water; yet too often all the world finds there is a heart of stone. We must pray for such men and women that Christ willprotect them from the despair that daily haunts them. We must do what we can to be loving, warm and intimate human persons ourselves. Celibacy without intimacy is a dead thing. Celibacy without warmth is a deadly thing. Themedieval poet, William Langland, in his i/ision of Piers Plowman tells us that "chastity without charity will be crhained in hell. such a loveless virtue as this shall be fettered in hell.'" To really understand the mystery of celibacy then, we must explore the my~stery of intimate human love. What one discovers almost at once is that intimacy is no merely social or psychological dimension of our person, but one whose roots lie deep in the very ground of our humanness. Intimacy is a real metaphysical dimension of human life. To explore its. landscape is to,.discover whole realms of our human being, heights and depths of which we are often--perhaps sometimes deliberately--unaware. 'William Langland, Piers tire Ploughman (Baltimore: Penguin Book, 1966), p. 37. 848 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 It is important to know from the very start that this landscape of intimacy is not entirely or even primarily the "garden of earthly delights" purveyed by some modern psychologists. Visions of false intimacy abound in our time, luring us with promises of fulfillment no genuine intimacy would ever prom-ise to deliver. We must not confuse intimacy with some kind of utopia--a word, it helps to recall, meaning "nowhere." True intimacy will have the richness and complexity of reality about itS' Intimacy is a very real--indeed essential--element of a truly human life. Coming from the Latin intimus, meaning innermost, intimacy refers to the dimension of depth and of inwardness--the contemplativedimension in each of us, or as the ancient Fathers would call it--the heart. Insofar as a man or woman is in exile from this inner dimension of the heart, that person's life is a shallow affair, infertile and rootless. Alienated from the depths within, we cannot 'help but become dry, cold, shriveled crea-tures, thereby turning God's rich creation into a barren desert of death. Exiled from the heart, we become exiles on the earth. Our lives become sterile and meaningless, and intolerable loneliness drives us to search frantically for something--anything--to fill the aching void we feel. Yet so long as we are exiles from our true inner selves, we find no solace or comfort in any other creature. All our socializing, all our frantic sex can do nothing to bring us peace or rest or life. In this desert exile we learn that the things we so desperately seek to fill our emptiness are revealed, once we grasp them, as mirages. Where we saw water and thought our thirst about to be slaked, the cruel desert--raising our hopes only to dash them more brutally--reveals the illusion and offers us only its dry and deadly dust. Thirstier than ever we run about, sure, despite our every disappointment, that our thirst will be ~atisfied, that the desert will be kind. In this wasteland of our modern rootless lives, only a few paths lie open to us. We may go on as always, restlessly seeking, "distracted from distraction by distraction," hoping to outrun the dark, pursuing shadow that would whisper into our ears the meaninglessness of our lives; hoping perversely for death to deliver us :from bur fretful race and give us, if not peace, at least a blessed nothingness. Others of us, not so adept at fleeing dark truths, end this miserable travesty of life with the quick bullet in the brain or the slower suicide of alcohol and drugs. Still others learn to numb themselves, to deaden the fear and anxiety, to assent to their deathful existence and become living corpses devoid of warmth, liveliness, humor or love. Finally, some few learn to stop in their hectic flight, to resist the whispering voices that offer distrac-tion or tempt one to despair. They learn to become still, to halt beneath that harsh sun and send down their roots into the burning sand in search of water. How foolish these last ones must appear to the others! Yet they alone of all our exiled race stand some chance of becoming really grounded and root-ed-- creatures in touch with the vital source of life, the living water that flows On Monastic Sexuality / 849 in the desert's hidden depths. They are, in a word, contemplatives. Or if that seems too re6aote or specialized a term for modern ears, let us call them people for

Issue 17.3 of the Review for Religious, 1958. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious MAY 15, 1958 M~re Marie of the Ursulines . Sister Benita Daley Gifts Of the Holy Spirit . paul w. o'erie. C~urrent Spiritual Writing . Thomas G. O'Ca~lagha. Do We Know Our Mother? . Sister M. Annice Summer Sessions Book Reviews Questions and Answers Roman Documents about: Christ and World Harmony Religious Obedience Feminine Fashions VOLUME 17 NUMBER 3 Ri::VII::W FOR RI:::LIGIOUS VOLUME 17 MAY, 1958 NUMBER 3 CONTENTS M~-RE MARIE OF THE URSULINES~ Sister Benita Daley, C.S.J . 129 SUMMER SESSIONS . 134 THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY SPIRIT-- Paul W. O'Brien, S.J . 135 CURRENT SPIRITUAL WRITING--- Thomas G. O'Callaghan, S.J .1.45 DO WE KNOW OUR OWN MOTHER?-- Sister M. Annice, C.S.C . " . 157 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS~R. F. Smith, S.J . 167 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS: Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 178 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS: 13. Changing a Will . 188 14. General Sanation . 188 15. Absence During the Canonical Year . 189 16. Constituting a Chapter Without Approval . 190 17. What Is an Immediate Third Term as Superior General?. 190 18. Gloria in tile Mass of a Beatified Foundress . 191 19. Canon Law for Brothers and Sisters . 191 OUR CONTRIBUTORS ' 192 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS,, May, 1958. Vol. 17, No. 3. Published bi-monthly by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18, Mo. Edited by the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approval. Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Mo. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J.; Henry Willmering, S.J. Literary Editor: Robert F. Weiss, S.J. Copyright, 1958, by The Queen's Work. Subscription price in U.S.A. and Canada: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U.S.A. Please send all renewals and new subscriptions to: Review for Religious, 3115 South Grand Boulevard. St. Louis 18o Missouri. /v re Marie ot: !:he Ursulines Sisl:er Benil:a Daley, C.S.J~ IN JUNE, 1958, when the city of Quebec celebrates the three hundred and fiftieth anniversary of its founding, it will honor Samuel de Champlain, who first recognized the importance of this great port on the "king of all rivers" as he termed the St. Lawrence. The achievements of the great men who contributed to the growth and development of that city will be recalled--men like Bishop Laval and Frontenacm but no chronicle of its glor!es will be complete without a tribute to that illustrious pioneer, M~re Marie of the Ursulines. The passage of three centuries has not dimmed the memory of the courageous woman who exemplified in her remarkable career an amazing variety of callings: wife, mother, mystic, business woman, teacher, writer, and cloistered religious. Her name and deeds are interwoven with every worth. while endeavor to colonize the little seventeenth-century settle-ment that was to become the thriving commercial and industrial city of today. In her missionary-career of thirty-two years, she endured all the hardships incident upon life in a pioneer out-post that was constantly under attack by the Indians. Marie Guyardqthat was the family name of this Ursuline missionary--was born in 1599 in Tours, France. Reared in a Catholic home by devout parents who inculcated habits of deep piety and love of labor in their eight children, Marie leari~ed at an early age to relish the joy of prayer and meditation. Yet, like any normal child, she entered gaily into games and pastimes with her brothers and sisters and the neighborhood children. When she was only fifteen years old, she asked her mother's permission to become a nun. Her mother refused this requesti believing that a person like Marie, so gay and vivacious, should 129 SISTER BENITA DALEY Review for Religious marry. Marie's parents then proceeded, to seek a desirable husband f~r their daughter. Their choice fell upon an estimable young silk merchant of Tours, Claude Martin. Thus it was that at the age of seventeen Marie became a bride. Although the desire to lead a religious life in the cloister still dominated all her thinking, she never questioned her parents.' decision about marriage. That, she believed, was the unfolding of God's plan in her life. She would obey her parents and accept this sacrifice of her own desires. Married life brought heavy burdens to the inexperienced girl. Marie Martin had to assist her husband in the manage-ment of his business which included, according to the custom of the time, housing and feeding his principal employees. Even though the religious bent of her nature sonstantly impelled her to yearn for hours of solitude in which to pray and to meditate, she developed great skill in directing her husband's establish-ment. Her talent for organization, her ability to deal harmoni-ously with all sorts of individuals--she supervised a large staff of servants and about twenty workmen in her husband's shop --these gifts were to serve her well in later years as a missionary in New France. The birth of her son, Claude, in 1619, gave her great joy; but six months later her husband died, leaving his finances in such a state that she was virtually penniless. A widow at nineteen, with an infant son to care for, attractive and highly respected, this young girl received many offers of marriage. Her family advised her to" remarry as the solution of her problems. But Marie Martin knew exactly what she would do now. She would follow the call of God in her heart; she would live for Him alone, making a cloister for Him in the depth of her being. Some day her hope of consecrating her life to God in religion might be realized. When and how this might be accomplished she did not know for her first obligatioa required her to devote herself to the upbringing of her child. 130 May, 1958 M~E MARIE Madame Martin returned then to her father's home but soon answered the call of an older sister who needed help in the management of her large household. Marie's brother-in-law, Paul Buisson, a wealthy artillery officer, approved this plan for he knew that this capable young woman, in return for a home for herself and her child, w.ould supervise his affairs efficiently. Eventually, Marie took complete charge of his transport business, his warehouses, and his stables. In short, she became the unpaid servant of the Buisson family--prepar-ing meals, nursing the sick, regulating accounts, and directing employees--for all these duties fitted admirably into her design to live entirely for God. Eagerly she sought the means to multiply fasts, penances, and vigils. It is not surprising then that history records her as one of the great mystics of her time. In the midst of her endless labors, God rewarded Marie Martin with heavenly visions, with revelations of the Blessed Trinity and of the Incarnation. Bossuet called her the St. Teresa o{: her century; and well he might, fo'r, like the saint of Avila, Madame Martin was practical, never neglecting ordinary duties for spiritual joys. Leading this extraordinary life of close intimacy with God and of long hours of toil, Marie wat,ched her young son grow into a strong and healthy boyhood. When he was twelve years old, she confided him to the care of the Jesuits to be trained, believing that a boy of his age needed a man's guidance. With. his consent, she achieved her long-desired goal, entering the Ursulines in Tours in 1631 at~ter obtaining her sister's promise to pay for young. Claude's education. In later years, Marie Martin experienced the happiness, of knowing that her son had become a Benedictine priest. In the cloister, Marie de l'Incarnation, as she was now called, attained ,great mystical heights. God bestowed upon her special giftsthe interpretation of scriptural texts--which are evidi~nced in the spiritual writings she composed at this time. She even saw Canada in a vision, not knowing it by name but SISTER BENITA DALEY Review for Religious perceiving only that ~it would some day be the field of her missionary labors. When she learned that the Jesuits of New France were asking for teaching nuns for Quebec, she resolved to answer the call if the opportunity arose. She longed to bring the light of faith to the savages of the New World. It was " with great rejoicing then that she received her appointment to found with two other Ursulines a mission school for Indian children in Champlain's struggling colony on the St. Lawrence. Exactly. four years after that great explorer's death, Mire Marie and her companions sailed from Dieppe. That was May 4, 1639. After a three-month voyage, they landed in Quebec, receiving a joyous welcome from its two hundred colonists. The tiny house to which ~he nuns were ceremoniously conducted was little more than a shack, but to Mire Marie it held promise of the fulfillment of her apostolate for souls. The little convent with its back against an enormous cliff looked out on the enchanting loveliness of wide stretches of water, a world of beauty that M~re Marie always cherished even when, at a later date, hunger and cold and destitution plagued the nuns. Here the first school opened with six Indian girls. Hardly were the Ursulines settled in their new home than an epidemic of smallpox broke out in the colony. Soon sick Indians in all their dirt and" wretchedness crowded in upon thenuns who cheerfully nursed them. In so doing, M~re Marie and her co-workers sacrificed the convent's slender resources in food and clothing. Y~hen the horrible experience ended, they de-cided that they had been too busy to contract the dread disease. As the number of pupils in the school steadily increased,' it became necessary to build a structure that would adequately house both nuns and students. The task of raising funds for this pressing need devolved upon Mire Marie. Then began that series of letters that went to France on every ship leaving ~he port of Quebec. Historians record that during her mis-sionary life this pioneer wrote over twelve thousand letters, enough volumes to fill several shelves in a library. 132 MARIE Not all of these letters were appeals for money. Many of them, sent to Ursuline convents, to important people in France, and to her Benedictine son, constitute, in the opinion of scholars, one of the finest primary sources of information on seventeenth-century Quebec. They narrate with typical French clarity the daily occurrences of the colony so that every phase of its de-velopment unfolds in this correspondence. The appointme~nt of the governors of the colony, the Indian massacres, the tor-tures of the Jesuit martyrs, the perils of living under constant threat of Iroquois hostilities, the complete destruction by fire of the Ursuline convent in 1650, the horror of the earthquake that shook Quebec three years later-~all these facts M~re Marie recounted in vivid detail. If the nuns, being cloistered, could not move freely among the colonists, the latter came to the convent to seek advice on various matters. M~re Marie took great pains to keep herself informed on all questions that pertained to the well-being of the people. As a result of her interest, government officials as well as the colonists, esteemed her sane judgments, her practical good sense. They valued more and more the type of education she administered in her convent school, for with the new re-cruits that had come from France to increase her staff, she planned an educational program that aimed to transmit to the pupils the culture and traditions of Old France. In 1642, the new monastery, a three-story structure, the pride of the colony, was completed. Mire Marie herself had drawn up its plans and supervised its construction, even mount-ing the scaffolding to direct the work in progress. But material achievements did not lessen her spiritual undertakings. In order to instruct the savages in the faith, she mastered four difficult Indian languages, thus displaying an amazing linguistic ability. She began this study at the age of forty; and, in the following twenty years, she demonstrated her proficiency by writing catechisms, grammars, and dictionaries ir~ 133 SISTER BENITA DALEY the Algonquin, Huron, and Iroquois dialects. These texts have proved invaluable to missionaries of later centuries. At her death in 1672, this interpid French woman had com-pleted thirty-two years of missionary labor crowned with success as an administrator and educator. She had helped to initiate a new movement in the Church--the active participation oi: re-ligiot~ s women in missionary, educational, and social projects. Her pioneer work led to the establishment of numerous com-munities of religious women who today staff our hospitals and schools and undertake the social apostolate. Agnes Repplier, in her biography~-M~re Marie of the Ursulines--now appropriately being re, issued in this anniversary year, points out that holiness "was the weapon with which she fought her' battles, established her authority, and became a living principle in the keen, hard, vivid, friendly, ~nd dangerous life of New France." SUMMER SESSIONS Marquette University will conduct a three-week workshop in sister formation granting three semester hours of graduate credit in education. The workshop will explore the application of the Everett Report to the needs of communities of sisters. It has been designed specifically for directresses of study and for the administration and faculty of juniorates and scholasticates (college level) of sisterhoods. It has been scheduled for the mornings and afternoons of August 4 to 22. It is open only to sisters. The fee is $50.00. The directress of the workshop is Sister Elizabeth Ann, I.H.M., of Immaculate Heart College; Los Arigeles, assisted by sisters acquainted with the Everett Report and by other consultants. Room and board t~or the sisters attending the workshop is available in Schroeder Hall. Address: Marquette University Graduate School, Milwaukee 3, Wisconsin. St. Mary's College, Notre Dame, Indiana, announces the six-teenth annual summer session of its Graduate School of Sacred Theol-ogy for Sisters and Laywomen (June 23-August I). Scheduled are fourteen classes in: fundamental theology, dogma, morals, Old Testa-ment, New Testament, patrology, biblical theology, church history, introduction to theology, introduction to Sacred Scriptures, introduc-tion to the Summa of St. Thomas. The faculty includes Jesuits, Dominicans, Passionists, other priests, and lay professors. Address (Continued on page 166) 134 The ifi:s. ot: :he I-Ioly Spiri Paul W. O'Brien,S.J. FRANKLY I HAVE always wanted to know more about the gifts of the Holy Spirit. They held a strange attraction. The soul seemed to feel instinctively that they occupied a key position in its spiritual, life. And yet the.y seemed so elusive. Beyond a few elementary notions, they remained rather difficult to grasp. I wondered whether the main ideas could not be pinned down and put in simple language. It is this I have tried to do both for my. own understanding of the question and perhaps for the profit of others. The Need oE the Gifts ." A soul in love with God and witl~ some little experience in th~ spiritual life comes quickly to realize its ihadequacy. This comes about not merely frbm the intellectual conviction that unaided nature can~ never reach the supernatural, that "without Me, you can do nothing." Rather it is an experimental knowl-edge, even supposing God's elevating grace, of the slowness of its mind to grasp the things of God. It "tries to penetrate the truthsof faith and finds them veiled; it seeks to draw the logical conclusions from these truths, but the elements of the'problem slip from its memory before the conclusions are reached. Its will that should be such an impelling power toward God is so hesitant, so wavering; and, even when with God's grace it feels a power for ordinary acts~ of virtue, it senses its inadequacy for anything that might be termed heroic. In all sincerity we are seeking to do the will of. God, "a will presented to us through obedience, through our rules, but which still leaves so much undefined. We know at a given moment "what" we. must do, but the "how" seems to admit of indefinite progress; and we feel blocked. The life that we live seems to be a life planned by a reason directed by' faith,, but it is one where my reason 135 PAUL W. O']~RIEN Review for Religious does the directing. Actually we are longing for the Holy Spirit to assume the direction of our lives. We are thirsting to have our love enkindled by the Spirit of love-to have our intellects enlightened by the Spirit of Truth. In a word, we are yearning to supplement our life of the ~irtues by a life of the gifts under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. The Nature of the Gifts St. Thomas tells us that these gifts of the Holy Spirit are permanent dispositions of the soul to obey the Holy Spirit promptly. They are not just passing actual graces; they are permanent dispositions in the soul. They are not like the in-fused virtues which enable us to act; these are passive disposi-tions which enable us to receive, to be acted upon by the Holy Spirit. Granted the existence of our supernatural organism, we might possibly reason fo the necessity of such gifts, in order that the organism be perfect; but God has spared us the labor. He has told us of the gifts in Isaias 11:2: "And the spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him; the spirit of wisdom and under-standing; the spirit of counsel and of fortitude; the spirit of knowledge and of godliness (piety). And he shall be filled with the fear of the "Lord." Actually the text refers to Jesus, .the Messiah; but the Fathers of the Church in explaining it taught that these gifts have passed from Christ to all the mem-bers of His Mystical Body. It is therefore a point of faith that these gifts exist. It is also certain that they are permanent habits. But, for the rest, theologians have their little differences. It is ~the more common and more probable opinion that the gifts are really distinct from the virtues. And it seems more probable that there are actually seven gifts, though some theologians think it not improbable that the number seven is used, as often in the Old Testament, in a mystical sense of plenitude. But for our practical purpose, it is enodgh to know that the gifts of the Holy' Spirit exist, that they are permanent in the soul in grace, 136 May, 1958 GIFTS OF THE HOLY SPIRIT and that through them the" Holy Spirit can direct all the activi-ties of our souls. Reason-guided or God-guided? When God made human nature, He put into it all that it needed to live its life and do its work in a fitting manner. And so He endowed it with a soul, with faculties of thinking and willing, and virtues to 'perfect these faculties. We then had everything necessary to live a human life. The guiding power in this organism was reason. To live as a human being, we had to live according to reason. But God did not leave me to my natural resources and natural end. He destined me to know Him in the beatific vision and to share His own divine life. To accomplish this, it was necessar~ that He elevate my natural organism; and this He did by bestowing gratuitously on my soul sanctifying grace together with the infused virtues, both theological and moral. Not only has He elevated my powers making them able to act supernaturally and reach out to Him; but He has furnished new maps to my reason, indicating the way to :Himself by marking out new signposts with His revealed tr~ths. Surely .the way is now clearer, and reason .finds more secur.!.ty; 'bui it is still reason that directs my life, even though :helped by faith. My life to God is still reason-controlled. And ~onsequently !t is subject to all the. limitations of human reason. ¯ I cannot s~e all the future; .I. cannot foresee the consequendes of my present actions; I cannot know the hearts of those with Whbm I deal, whether my well-meant word or action may not be untimely. My grasp of faith is so imperfect. If only the great God who is above all might enter in to guide my life! How wonderful to replace the groping of my reason through an uncharted future with the security of divine Wisdom--my vision obscured by the veil of faith, with God's clear knowledge of Himself, eternal Truth--my imperfect intuition of the hearts of others, with the intimately penetrating knowledge of God--my hesitancy in choosing God's way, with the sureness of 137 PAUL W. O'BRIEN Review ]or Religious God's Will-~.my :weakness of love, with the impetu.osity of God's Spirit. And yet this is the life that God holds out to me through the gifts. This is'the true meaning o~ the gi~ts, that my soul is o.pened up to this direct action o~ God, that my soul is disposed to obey. promptly, this Spirit o~ ldve, that my soul may soar above its reason:controlled guidance, to be taken to God's Heart as His instrument, guided by the Holy Spirit, with all that this involves. Some Illustrations Theologians around the time of St. Thomas tried to explain the gi~ts o~ the H01y Spirit by the examp!e o~ a rowboat fitted out with~sails~ The oars or.the.boat ~orresp0nded to the virtues, the" active ¯agents in the movement ot~ the.boat. The sails were the gift's of the Holy Spirit, those passive disppsitions by which the boat recdi~ed an outside impulse and direction from the Wind. ¯ " ~ Cardinal Billot, some six centuries later, modernized the dxample, propoging a °motOrboat fitted out with ~ails. The motor, actively 'propelling the° boat f~:om "within, corresponde~{ to th~ virtues'; the ~ails, receiving passi,~ely the breezd, reprd-sent~ d the gift's of the" Holy Spirit. ~ Were ~hese great .theologians alive t~0da'y, we may pre.sume that the)) would look for s~mething more" modern and might hit on Our radio-~ontrolled rob0.t planes. Sbme time back ~I saw some boys~ flying iu'~h a plane; and," if I am no~ mistaken (in ~nY .even~ it may serve~ us ~or an example), ~he plane, somd ten feet long; contained i~s "own motor, Which propelled it into the air" arid drove i~ along a( an~ ordinary spee~l. O~ co~rse there was no one in the plane. But 'aitach'ed some w.ay to th~ motor was a radio recei,~er. From the ground the boys '~ver~e ~ble to sdn~t impulses into ~hat rhceiver and to control the ipeed of thd motor' as well as the di.rection o~ the plane~ They could turh it to thd right or left, speed it up, make it lo6p the loop, and sO forth. "I ~ould not but think that that' little radio receiver" co~respohded t6 ~he" gifts of the Holy Gh6st~ while the motor correspondedto the in~used Virtues. 138 May, 1958 GIFTS OF THE HOLY SPIRIT The gifts of the Holy Spirit, then, m~y be considered as God's radio receiver put into our soul, a passive disposition to receive the impulses from the Holy Spirit. Surely we carry within us our own motor, the infused virtues, which move us along in a normal way; but in order that these virtues be directed, that their activity be increased, there was need of a receiver. The plane could fly without the receiver, just as we can practice ordinary virtue without this special direction of the Holy Spirit. But to be controlled with sureness, to be brought to a safe landing, to receive added strength, for all this we needed a means by. which the Holy Spirit could enter. Neither do we consider the radio receiver as the motor of the plane. And so it is with the gifts. They are not the motive force that moves the soul; they merely receive the impulses of the Holy Spirit that activate the virtues. The virtues remain the operative powers of the soul. Cormaturality What are these habits, these permanent dispositions of the soul? Do they merely mean that God in His almighty power can break into the soul whenever He wishes--a mere "obedi-ential potency," as theologians would say--or are they some-thing more? The disposition which is a gift of the Holy Spirit is something more. It creates in the soul a sort of reaching out for God's inspiration, a power of attraction, giving the soul what theologians call "connaturality," making the soul as it were "tuned-in,~' preparing the soul so that the-inspiration of the Holy .Spirit would feel "at-home." A child is attracted to the loving atmosphere of the family circle, but repelled by the cold, indifferent spirit of a strange house. .And so while the inspiration of the Holy Spirit is gratuitous and the disposition is passive, yet the gift creates this connaturality, giving the soul a certain claim on God's help. Through fidelity to grace, the soul can merit an increase of God's inspirations and conse-quently a greater capacity for the gifts. PAUL W. O'BRIEN Review for Religious The Functions of the Individual Gifts Theoretically there is a certain utility in knowing the func-tion of the individual gifts. It completes our knowledge. But since spiritual writers are not in complete agreement on these functions and practically the discernment of the effect of each gift is rather difficult, it is enough for the good soul to know that God has a way of directing all its activities, that this way. is by means of the gifts, and that God will know which gift He is using, even though the soul may not. The soul needs only to beg God to come in His fullness, to take over the direction of all its acts. However, it is helpful to note in a general way (I am fol-lowing St. Thomas) that every activity of the soul is cared for by the gifts. All of God's grace is directed to enlighten my intellect or strengthen my will. Hence the gifts perfect these two faculties, four of them (wisdom, understanding, knowledge, and counsel) perfecting the intellect, and three of them (piety, fortitude, and fear of the Lord) perfecting the will. Now the intellect may grasp truth intuitively, or it may have a judgment about it. And in judging about it, it may judge divine things, created things, or apply general truths to concrete acts. For each of these operations, there is a gift by which the intellect in that operation is disposed to be guided by the Holy Spirit. Corresponding to and perfecting the intuition of truth is the gift of understanding, by which the soul penetrates the truths of faith--understanding not merely how believable they are, how right it is that the soul adheres to them, but penetrating even to the very truths themselves, perceiving connections be-tween the truths, analogies, logical conclusions, etc., all of which it could probably get by study, but which it receives in a simpler and more instinctive manner. This gift together with the "gift of knowledge perfects faith. The gift of wisdom corresponds to that judgment of the mind about God and divine things, as the soul judges that God 140 May,, 1958 GIFTS OF THE HOLY SPIRIT is lovable above all, as 'it ~askes God with'~i certain sweetness, as it judges all things in the light of God and adheres to Him in charity. Wisdom perfects charity. The gift of knowledge corresponds to the judgment of the mind about created things or of divine things according to creatures. It enables t.he soul to form a true judgment of human things--to see clearly its own conduct and the conduct of others. It is this gift that is activated particularly in the dark nights of the soul, making the soul see its sinfulness and the nothingness of created things. Like the gift of understand-ing, this gift also perfects faith. The gift of counsel looks to the direction of particular actions--what to do here and now under these circumstances. What faith, wisdom, and knowledge teach in general, counsel applies in particular. This gift corresponds to the virtue of prudence, which prescribes the means for attaining the end. Three gifts perfect the will. Piety excites the soul to a filial affection toward God. The virtue of religion and the gift of piety both lead us to the worship and service of God. But religion considers God as Creator, while piety looks to Him as Father. Piety reaches not only to-God, but to everything and everybody connected with Him; hdnce to Holy Scripture, the saints, the souls in purgatory. It corresponds to the virtue of justice and governs us in our relations with others. With regard to ourselves two gifts come into play. Forti. rude stimulates us against the fear of dangers or human respect, enabling us to resist certain strong temptations, to undertake arduous works for God. It corresponds to the virtue of forti-tude. The other gift regarding ourselves is fear of the Lord. The~e are two kinds of fear, that of tl~e slave who fears the lash, the punishment, and that of the son who fears to sadden. his father by offending him. The first is called servile, fear and has no place in the gift. Rather it is filial fear, which looks 141 PAUL V~. O'BRIEN Review for Religious chiefly to God and deters us from offending Him. Thus it perfects hope. But it also makes us avoid that which most attracts us to sin, namely the delights of the world; and in this respect it corresponds to the virtue of temperance. This gift of fear of the Lord is the basis of all others, for the first step on the way to God is a reverence for Him that makes us flee sire Ordinary and Extraordinary Action of the Holy Spirit It is a great consolation to the soul to know that as long as it is in the state of grace it possesses all the gifts of the Holy Spirit and is therefore under the guidance of the Holy Spirii. However this guidance varies according to the disposition of the soul and its fidelity. It is not a felt guidance, and great activity of the Holy Spirit may' pass unnoticed in the soul and may be guessed at only because of its effects. It is through this action of the Holy Spirit that various vocations are realized, as step by step He leads the soul to the fulfillment of His eternally determined plan. In acting through the gifts, the Holy Spirit may enter our lives in two ways. One is the ordinary way, inasmuch as He conforms to the ,natural workings of our intellect and will, elevated of course by grace, taking occasion from sermons, our spiritual reading, our meditations, to inspire us with good thoughts. We experience greater light, a more intense love; and yet our intellects are reasoning in the way they have always reasoned; and our wills are loving as they have always loved. Even the acts to whic~h the Holy Spirit will lead us are acts accord with our nature, within the sphere of reason enlightened by faith. Through this constant influence of the Holy Spirit in our ordinary actions, the soul may arrive at a high degree sanctity, without being consciously aware of this intense activity of the Holy Spirit through His gifts. Though heroic sanctity is attainable through this ordinary mode of action of the Holy Spirit, it is more common to find in the saints the more extraordinary mode of action by which 142 May, 1958 GIFTS OF THE; HOLY, SPIRIT our faculties, through these same gifts, are given a new way acting~or reach out for .objects naturally outside their normal' sphere. This extraordinary action of the Holy Spirit takes various t~orms: in one, it will be the way oi~ infused contemplation, com-monly called the mystic life, which is generally brought about through the intense activation of the gifts of wisdom, under-standing, and knowledg~gifts that perfect th~ intellect. Ex-amples of such action may be found in~ the great contemplatives, St. ~John of the Cross, St. Teresa of Avila. It is well to note that. the gifts of ~wisdom .and understanding may.be present in' a soul in a. high degree without the soul being conscious of. them or without their producing infused contemplation, which is 'but one of the possible forms of their influence. ¯ In another, the' e~traordinar.y' action of the Holy" Spirit will direct the soul to a more active and apostolic life, in which the gifts which are directed more to action (e.g, counsel and fortitude) predominate.' Such a soul was ~Sto Vincent de' Paul, who seems not to ~have en'joyed .infused contemplation/ but who led a life of heroic charity. In still others, God's acti6n works toward a combination of these lives, as with the great contemplative~ ipostles,' St. Paul; St. Ignatius,-St. Francis Xavier. Thd form which this' action of the Holy Spilit Will take will depend on the vocation and work to Which God has destined the soul. BUt whethe~ the mode of action be ordin~iry or extraordinary, no sanctity is possible without this habi~hal docility to the inspirations of the Holy Spirit; ai~d this docility is at-tained through the gifts. Our Practical Attitude " There is .no soul in love with God that d6es not desire to be completely under .the sway of the Spirit \of Love. ¯ And, since this" direction will come about especially through the gifts oi~ the Holy Spirit, there is no" soul that does not long to possess 143 PAUL V~r. O'BRIEN these gifts in all the fullness that God may be pleased to grant. Since an incoming inspiration seems to enlarge the capacity of ~the gifts, our desires for the increase of the gifts are really desires that God may be ever more generous with His inspira-tions. Our problem, then, is one of fidelity to. these inspirations and the growth of our desires that the ego may decrease while God and His influence are !ncreasing. However, there is a certain preparation that can be made.' And here we may return to our "radio-receiver." For good reception, the air must be. clear, free from "interference," free from ~'jamming." Alas, how often our little "gift-receivers" are shut out from the impulses of God's grace by the interfer-ence of passion and prejudice, and by the jamming of worldli-ness and the clamor of creatures. We must clear the air through purity of heart--striving with all our might until an emptiness of self has cleared the way for His divine influence. But it is not enough to .have the air cleared; we must be "tuned-in." The soul must be recollected, attentive to God, tuned-in to the Holy Spirit, not trusting in the initial impulses and guidance of its reason, but turning with evei-increasing fre-quency, as He gives the measure, to the Holy Spirit for the inspiration and continuation of our works. When our part is done, the rest will depend on the source of the impulses. But here we have no difficulty; for the source of our inspirations is God with His power, His attractiveness, His clarity. His part will never fail. The trouble can only be in the receiver. We must go forward therefore in confidence, trying to bring home to ourselves the beauty, the security, the divineness of a life lived under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. The measure of that life in us will depend in great part on the strength of our desires. We will long for it, struggle for it, and keep begging for it as we implore the Spirit .of Love in His sevenfold gift (septiformis munere) to come in all His full-ness into our hearts. Come Holy Spirit! 144 Current: Spirit:u l rit:ing Thomas ~,. O'C~lhgh~n, S.,J. St. Th~rhse of Lisieux A VERY NOTABLE event occurred two years ago in the field of hagiography. It was the publication of the auto-biographical manuscripts of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux.1 o.ne point of great interest in this was that the saint's own handwritten manuscripts--there are three of them--were photographically re: produced in their origina/ form: two copybooks (one. of eighty-four leaves and the other of thirty-seven) and a letter (five leaves). Accompanying the published manuscripts were the editor's three volumes of scholarly, most interesting, and helpful notes. For many years readers of St. Therese s autobiography, The Story of a Soul, have known that the printed account which they were reading did not agree perfectly with the autograph manuscript. For example, the preface of a 1924 French edition made it quite clear that there had b~en changes in the text. The very awareness of these changes aroused the desire of hagi-ographers and devotees of Th~rhse to know exactly what the original manuscripts had said. These autograph manuscripts had been iCor many years in the care of Mother Agnes of Jesus, a sister (Pauline) of Th~se a~d prioress of the Carmel at Lisieux. When she was asked to have them published, she arranged to have this done after her death. Thus, in 1952, a year after her death, a beginning was made under the direction of Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, O.C.D., the eminent Carmelite spiritual theologian. When he died the following year, the work was entrusted to Father Francis of St. Mary, O.C.D., who has completed the task most successfully and admirably. ~ Manuscrits ~utobiogra~hiques de 8ainte Thgr?se de l'EnfantJesus, Carmel de Lisieux, 1956. 145 THOMAS ~,. O~CALLAGHAN Review for Religious Whatever one's opinion might have been before this present publication, it is now quite clear that The Story of a Soul is not really a book, nor even a spiritual diary. It is rather a com-pilation of three manuscripts, all written during the last three years of the saint's life. The first of these, the larger of the two copybooks, was written during the course of 1895 at the request of the above-mentioned Mother Agnes of Jesus. She, as prioress at the time, asked Th~r~se to write her childhood memories. At that time there was no intention of publishing them; they were to be only "un souvenir de famille." This manuscript became the first eight chapters of the autobiography. The second manuscript, written during September, 1896, was a letter to her sister Marie, Sister Marie of the Sacred Heart, who had asked Th~r~se to explain her "little way of confidence and love." This letter, also never intended originally for publi-cation, became by reason of its importance Chapte~ XI of the autobiography. The third manuscript, written during June, 1897, three months before Thgr~se's death, was the second copybook. This was written at the request of Mother Mary of Gonzaga, the prioress at that time-~Mother Agnes of Jesus, her predecessor in office, very diplomatically persuaded her to request it--and was intended to serve as the basis of a short biographical account which by custom would be sent to other Carmels after Th~r~se's death. Although it was written nine months after the letter to Sister Marie, just mentioned above, it preceded it in the auto-biography and became the substance of Chapters IX and X. These, then, are the t.hree manuscripts from which was drawn the autobiography of Th~r~se of Lisieux. When, a few months before the saint's death, there arose the question of the publication of them, Th~r~se gave Mother Agne.s of Jesus the permission to edit them as she thought fit. Mother .Agnes did just ~hat (and, because of various reasons and personalities in-volved, it was perfectly legitimate to do so). "In fact," says Father Francis, the editor, after comparing the manuscripts with 146 May, 1958 CURRENT SPIRITUAL WRITING ihe published version of the autobiography, "Mother Agnes of Jesus rewrote the autobiography of Thgr~se" (I, 78). '~ What did Mother Agnes change? How serious were these changes? How did they alter the real Th~r~se? Since we cannot answer these questions in this very brief survey--un-doubtedly many articles will be written during the next few years on these precise questions--we would like to recommend a very fine article, "Saint Th~se," written by Sally S. Cunneen, in Jubilee (October, 1957). It is an article which makes for most pleasant and interesting reading. Faith and Love St. John the Evangelist dedicates a large part of his writings to .the development of his teaching on love. In his account of the public ministry of our Lord, the first twelve chapters of his Gospel, he unfolds some of this teaching by°showing the relation-ship 0f love to faith. It is this relationship of Johannine love and faith that Father Barrosse, C.S.C., makes the subject of a very scholarly and fine article.2 As a help to one's spiritual life, many points in this article are well worth study and reflection. First, for St. John, what is faith? It is not merely an in-tellectual assent to a list of revealed propositions. For the be-loved disciple faith means to believe in Christ, to accept "Jesus for what He is . . . the Son of God sent or come into the world" (p. 540). BUt, as Son of God, Christ is God's image, and thus God's revelation of Himself. Christian faith, then, means to accept Christ as God's revelation of Himself to men. It is not merely, however, a spdculative knowledge about God which Christ reveals. He desires also to reveal to men God's inner life by offering them an experience of it, a share of God's own life. To do this w~is the salvific mission of Christ. Faith for St. John, then, means to accept Cl~ris~ as the "Son of God who has come into" the world as God's salvific manifestation 2t'The Relationship of Love to Faith in St. John," Theological Studies, XVIII (1957), 538-59. 147 THOMAS G. O'CALLAGHAN Review for Religiou~ of Himself to men" (p. 543). This really demands in practice a complete surrender of one's entire person to the living person of Christ. But what is the relatiorr of this Johannine faith to love? Perhaps the following summary answer of the author to that question will be an indication of the important matter which he treats in the article and how profit, able a study of it could be. .In Christ God offers Himself to men out of love. Christ is the concrete manifestation of God's love in the world. To believe in Christ means to accept Him as God's offer of Himseli:; in other words, it means to comply with the advances of God's love. Those who love themselves inordinately, who desire a glory independent of the borrowed glory they can have from God in Christ or who love the evil which they have apart from God, can only reject the offer of God's love and refuse to believe. Only those who love God's glory and who therefore love. Christ, the manifestation and offer of that glory, will accept the advances of God's love. These are the men who have the "love of God" within them. (p. 559) The Rosary There are two parts to the rosary devotion: the recitation of the Paters and Aves (vocal prayer.) and meditation on the mysteries of the life of Christ and Mary (men~al prayer). Of these two, the latter is the. more important; it is the soul of the rosary devotion. But it is also the more difficult. What makes it so difficult? Father Paul Mahoney, O.P., selects, three of the main difficulties and offers some practical remedies.~ These dif-ficulties are: inattention, inability to probe the mysteries, and disunity of thought. The first difficulty, then, and perhaps the most common, i.s inattention or the lack of attention or the "inabilit~ to keep the mind and imagination centered upon one idea for even a short period of time" (p. 427). There are several causes of this. The first is a lack of proper training; a person has never learned to concentrate; and, thus, over the years the bad habit of inatten-tion has developed. In such cases, the opposite habit must be 3 "Difficulties with Rosary, Meditation," Cross and Cro~zn, IX (1957), 426-33. 148 May, 1958 CURREI~ SPIRITUAL WRITING formed by deliberate effort. Perhaps this is best done, when say-ing the rosary, by taking only One thought for each decade and deliberately concentrating on it during the recitation of the ten Ave$. "Another cause of inattention is neglecting to make a conscious intention before saying the Rosary" (p. 428). Since the ~osary is such a fruitful devotion when said fervently, a devotion worthy of our very best efforts, it is Very important, before starting it, to make a firm intention to recite it well. And, since the desire to finish our prayers quickly can stifle fervor, our intention should include the resolve to take our time and avoid rush. A second difficulty in meditating during the rosary is "an inability to probe the mysteries. Many fed incompetent to meditate on the mysteries of ~he Rosary." (p. 429) A very basic mistake here is to confuse prayerful meditation with theo-logical speculation. The latter is by no means necessary. For the former all we need are a fe~v spiritual thoughts which will lead to will-acts of adoration, contrition, thanksgiving, love, hope, humility, and the like. But where will we find these few spiritual thoughts? They can be easily gathered from an attentive read-ing of the New Testament, the Missal, and Breviary, especially those passages which pertain to the rosary mysteries. Everyone should have a little collection--mental, or even better, written-- of spiritually helpful rosary thoughts. For the third difficulty, disunity of thought, and its solution, we shall refer the reader to the article itself. A summary of it would only be confusing. Despite the difficulties that are attached to fruitful recitation of the Rosary, we must make the effort. Repeated beginnings, labor, aridity, and perseverance are the price that must be paid for mastery of the Rosary. But once victorious, the soul can confidently expect what is promised in the prayer for the feast of the Holy Rosary: imitation of what is contained in the mysteries and possession of what they promise. (p. 433) 149 THOM~,S G. O'CALLAGHAN Review for Religious Catholics and Neurosis What can Catholics do to modify or prevent neurotic reactions? The answer to this question is given in a very solid and clear article by Father James F. Moynihan, S.J., the chair-man of the Department of Modern Psychology at Boston College.4 A neurosis is a minor mental disorder, psychological in origin, which is characterized by personality maladjustment, but which does not usually require commitment to a mental hospital. The formative process of such a disorder, says Father Moynihan, "seems to involve a certain type of personality who~ in some conflict causing anxiety, finds a solution iri pathological (neurotic) symptoms" (p. 248). Thus, at th~ core of a neurosis is an anxiety. Depending upon the manner in which a person reacts to and resolves this anxiety, his behavior .is either normal or neurotic. The main purpose of Father Moynihan's article is to point out ~ome of the elements of a solid spiritual life which help a Catholic to adjust himself and to react to anxiety normally. We will limit ourselves here merely to his observation on humility. "Good mental health has a very definite correlatidn with an old-fashioned virtue which we call humility, yet not so old fashioned that it has not crept back into our current literature on personality and personality-adjustment. We can, to be sure, have some very distorted ideas on just what humility means, yet certainly an honest appraisal of one's own excellence is basic to the concept. The person with a balanced sense of his own qualifications, with a real sense of humility, is not confounded' by the limitations inherent in his own personality make-up. He need not look upon them as evidence of personal inferiority. For he realizes that limitations are the common lot of humanity; that he is a man and not a god. Nor does he need to hide in fantasy and self-excuse, or develop the Cinderella complex of self-pity with its inevitable concomitants of envy, jeal-ousy, and a sour-grapes attitude. In fact, a sense of humility is the basis for a real semse of humor which psychologists associate with the mature personality because it prevents us from taking ourselves too seriously and helps us to realize that our human experience is a shared ~xperience. This virtue of humility, manifested in a self- 4"Catholics and Neurosis," Spiritual Life, III (1957), 247-56. 150 May, 1958 ~URRENT SPIRITUAL WRITING concept that is objective and realistic, can, of course, be strengthened by faith in God's abiding presence so that it will lead the individual to a degree of confidence in which he can say with Saint Paul: can do all things in him who strengthens me." (p. 252) Venial Sin Although venial sin is not destructive of charity nor incom-patible with the state of grace, one should not underestimate its harmful effects on the spiritual life. Father Jordan Aumann, O.P., in a brief but fine article on the nature of venial sin and its relation to charity and perfection, enumerates and comments on four of the more important effects of venial sin.5 "First, venial sin lessens the fervor of charity and decreases thg soul's generosity in the service of God. Secondly, venial sin or zhe attachment to venial sin deprives the soul of many graces and inspirations . Thirdly, venial sin makes the practice of the virtues increasingly difficult." Finally, and this effect follows from the preceding, "venial sin gradually disposes for mortal sin." (pp. 268-69) From such effects it is quite clear that venial sin builds up in the soul a strong barrier to the perfect love of God and to Christian perfection. The Liturgy Sign and causality: these are two key words in sacramental theology. For a sacrament is a sensible sign which causes grace. When St. Thomas treated the sacraments, he carefully balanced these two elements of sign and causality. Before his time, how-ever, emphasis had been placed on the idea of sign; and after him, especially since the sixteenth century, the stress has been mostly on causality, the idea of sign being relegated to a definitely inferior place. To show that this imbalance, the overemphasis on causality, has impoverished the role of the sacraments~ in the spiritual life is the purpose of a very solid and interesting article by Father Godfrey Diekmann, O.S.B., the editor of Worship.e 5"Venial Sin and Christian Per~%ction," Cross and Cro¢wn, IX (1957), 262-70. e"Two Approaches to Understanding the Sacraments," I¢~orshi~, XXXI (1957), 504-20. 151 THOMAS G. O'CALLAGHAN Review for Religious A sacrament is a sign; thus, it is something which leads to the knowledge of something else; it instructs. "In the case of the sacraments it is Christ who instructs, insofar as He chose the sign; and it is the Church too that instructs, inasmuch as she expanded and further explained the essential sign, by surround-ing it with additional rites ~ind prayers" (p. 507). In the sacraments, then, Christ and the Church are our instructors, our teachers. The sacraments are also causes; but they cause what they signify. It is only a proper reading of the sign, therefore, which will instruct us as to what is being caused. This is im-portant. It was, for example, the neglect of the sign of the Eucharist--food, necessary for nourishment, growth, strength --that led to the neglect of frequent Communion for such a long time. In the spiritual life what have been the consequences of overstr.essing during the last few centuries the element of causality and of neglecting that of sign? Here briefly are some of Father Diekmann's interesting observations in answering that question. First, an overemphasis on the causality of the sacraments in the production of grace has resulted in an overshadowing and obscuring of the important role of faith in the process of salva-tion and sanctification. In fact, the Protestant rebellion was in part an attempt to restore faith to its proper and significant place. Another result has been "a more or less mechanistic view of the sacraments" (p. 510), that is, a sacrament is a "holy thing which contains and confers grace" (ibid.). Thus is lost the notion of the sacraments as bein_g the saving actions of Christ, a continuation of the priestly activity of Christ. "F~x opere ol~erato means really, ex opere operantis Christi . " (ibid.). A third result of overstressing causality was the narrowing down of the sign to what was necessary for validity and a neglect, therefore, of what Christ and the Church through a full sign '152 May~ 1958 CURRENT SPHtITUAL WRITING have been trying to teach about the effects of the sacrament. Another consequence has been an overemphasis on the Triden-tine phrase non loonentibus obicem, not placing a hindrance; thus, a negative, passive approach in the reception of the sacra-ments has been inculcated, not that positive disposition of faith and devotion which St. Thomas taught and fostered. These unfortunate but logical consequences of this over-stressing of the element of causality are being corrected in ~0od part today by modern liturgical-theological writing, which is re-establishing the proper balance between sign and causality. The article continues with some most interesting points about the relation of the sacra'ments and sacramentals, the social nature of the sacraments, the sacraments as acts of worship-- this last point rarely being given its proper importance and at-tention.' This is truly an excellent article and well worth careful reading and study. Priests will find both interest and inspiration in "The Pas-toral Value of the Word of God," an exceptionally fine paper read at the Assisi Liturgical Congress by Father Augustine Bea, S.J., consultor of the Sacred Congregation of Rites and t~ormer rector of the Pontifical Biblical Institute in Rome.7 The ques-tion which Father Bea answers is: What is the pastoral function, importance, and efficacy of the word of God (i.e. of Sacred Scripture) in the sacred liturgy? His answer is most important for one who is both "minister of the word" and '"minister of the Sacrament," the priest. At the Last Supper our Lord "created the type of the principal liturgical function of His Church: close union of the word with sacrificial action" (p. 243). For on that evening His sacrifice was surrounded with His words of teaching, en-couragement, and exhortation. It is therefore quke understand- 7 Tile Clergy Mont/i/y, XXI (1957), 241-54. This and all the other papers read at the congress appear in The /lssisi Patters (Collegeville, Minn.: The Liturgical Press, 1957). 153 THOMAS G. O'CALLAGHAN Review for Religious able that the three elements: Sacred Scripture (Epistle and Gospel), explanation (homily), and Eucharistic Sacrifice, should be "a characteristic mark of Catholic worship" (p. 242). Sacred Scripture has of its very self, since it is the word of God, a marvelous pastoral efficacy. But when thisword of God (together with its explanation in the homily) is united to the Eucharistic Sacrifice, this pastoral value is increased and intensified. This is why "the Church, guided by the Holy Spirit . . . , has united the reading and explanation of the word of God with the offering of the eucharistic Sacrifice in one great liturgical unity and has desired that the same priest be 'minister of the word' and 'minister of the Sacrament' " (p. 250). Most of us are not too familiar with devotional practices among Christians of the Eastern rite churches. Consequently, an informative and interesting article on Russian icons is most welcome,s According to the dictionary' icon means image, portrait, statue; and, as related to the Eastern Church, it means a sacred painting or mosaic. Such a definition,, however, might be a bit misleading, for not every sacred painting is an icon nor is a true icon painter concerned with making mosaics. Icons originated in Egypt long before the time of Christ. "In its original form it was a representation, made in the encaustic method, of a deceased person and placed by relatives on the mummy case of that person" (p. 322). These pictures or paintings were not perfect and exact portraits, but distinguish-ing characteristics of the person were. sufficiently retained so that the subject was recognizable. What was of major import-ance, however, was that the picture look "alive." To attain this vital quality special attention and emphasis was given to the eyes. S Mary Corkran, "Russian Icons," Cross and Crown, IX (1957), 321-29. 154 May, 1958 CURRENT SPIRITUAL WRITING This type of painting was later copied and adopted by the Christians. They retained the characteristic design and coloring, and even something of the purpose of the icon, to commemorate the dead. But in the Christian tradition, obviously, the subject changed and became the Savior, our Blessed Lady, the saints, and many characters from the Old Testament. Also, in the more elaborate icons, there were whole scenes taken from the Old or New Testament. These icons were not considered merely as decorative re-ligious paintings. To the Oriental Christians icons were sacred objects, blessed by the Church, and "honored as Special symbols of the person they represented" (p. 323). They had a very real place in both public and private devotion. "In the churches were splendid images of our Lord, Our Lady and the saints, each of them having its own special place. Many of the smaller ones were taken down and displayed for public devotion, or carried in procession, on the appropriate feast days. The larger and prinicpal icons were fixed and, before the beginning of a service, the worshiper made what amounted to a holy pilgrimage among Christ and the saints, bowing low before each one and perhaps lighting a candle or two" for private devotions (pp. 324- 25). Each home had its iittle oratory where there were enshrined icons of the Savior, our Lady, and favorite saints. This was the center for the family life of prayer. Among the countless icons in honor of our Blessed Mother, some of the most venerated are those portraying our Lady of Tenderness. These picture the Blessed Mother, her eyes ex-pressing interior grief, looking down upon her Child, while He, looking up to her, puts his hand to her face in a loving desire to comfort her in her sorrow. Our Lady of Tenderness must certainly be looking down with eyes of interior grief upon her Russian children today. Let us hope and pray that they will look back to her. Prayer St. Teresa of Jesus said in her Life that mental prayer is nothing but a friendly conversation with God who knows and 155 THOMAS G. 0'CALLAGHA.N loves us. For her, mental prayer was not a mere duty, an impersonal ascetic practice, but a real personal relationship with God. In "The Realm of Prayer" Romano Guardini tries to insist upon the same point.~ After stating that the "first step into prayer is self-recollection" and that the second is "visual-izing (before the inner eye) the'reality of God," he states that the third is "seeking His holy face. In this the worshiper tries to establish, or rather to give expression and effect to, the 'I-thou' relationship with God which is man's birthright." (p. 12) God, to whom we speak and pour out our heart in prayer, knows and loves each of us intimately and personally. To Him we are individual persons, not merely blurred parts of a countless throng. He has called each of us to an intimate personal relationship of love with Him. "Into this mystery of love. one enters through prayer." This is what it means to seek "the face of God" or, as one may put it, the "heart of God." Prayer must be a person-to-person relationship, a per-sonal affair. Not merely to seek, but especially to find the "face and heart" of a personal God in prayer, is undoubtedly difficult. There are distractions which come upon the soul from both without and within. This shows the need for "the right attitude, both outwardly and inwardly: collectedness at the beginning and discipline during prayer" (pp. 10-11). But these of themselves will never suffice. The key to the answer is in faith. "In this concealment, darkness, and void, my faith must seek out His countenance and His heart so that I may direct my prayer to Him. I must establish the inner point of contact and hold on to it, when--as constantly happens--it tries to elude me." (p. 12) Faith must seek out His holy face and heart. Without that there can be no personal conversation with Him who loves US. ~Jubilee, December, 1957. 156 Do We Know Our Own Mot:her? Sister M. Annice, C.S.C. RECENTLY IT occurred to me that I have had devotion to our Blessed Mother as long as I can remember. Fortu-nately for me as for millions of other Catholics, my good parents introduced me to the Mother of God as soon as I could grasp anything through pictures, statues, and the words of prayers relating to Mary. This process involved both ex-perience and some formal learning. It was not a matter of one exclusive of the other. No doubt, it would generally be granted by most o~ us that our imaginations and affections, our emotions and thoughts were all at work as we gradually grew in the knowledge and love of the Mother of Christ. Every new insight into the mysteries of the rosary brought its emotional repercussion of joy, sorrow, love, confidence, etc. That is completely normal to the psychological structure of humaa nature. Added to this, we also. received that special endowment from God, supeknatural grace, moving us to know and love His Mother more intimately and to seek her he(p and friendship. And yet, asI listened to Father Patrick Peyton, C.S.C., recently, I began to wonder if some of us actually do know Christ's Mother as realistically and intelligently as we might. Are we not too satisfied to constantly petition Mary for every-thing that we want and to say a good many perfunctory prayers? In complete, adulthood, with a wondrous capacity for superna-tural love and a developed mind able to seek more complete knowledge of her mysterious privileges, do we not still _act toward Mary as we did at the age of adolescence? When I heard Father Peyton speak of Mary as "omnipotent" in her inter-cessory power with her divine Son, I knew that I had never before experienced this same surprise and joy. And in that same week as I .was leafing through a little booklet entitled, 157 SISTER M. ANNICE Review for Religious Liturgical Novenas to Mary,I I was again profoundly im-pressed when I read, "The Lord gave thee His own power, for through thee He completely overcame our enemies." Thus it "dawned" on me that I had not given enough attention'or thought to the Blessed Mother's prerogative of participation in divine power. Now, should anyone wish to know more about this great privilege purely for the sake o~c possessing great knowledge? Assuredly not! Its fruits should be growth in the love of, and confidence in, the Mother of God. These virtues will not develop without some "culturing," some ground in which to take root and grow. Granting, of course, that only God can give us the grace of these supernatural virtues, we are still re-quired to cooperate with God in this action. And this requires effort on the part of our faculties to dispose us better for the receiving of God's grace. Now in this case it would seem that to consciously cooperate with God, we ought to make use of our ability to learn greater, and deeper, truths about God's Mother. It is, then, in this spirit that we propose to consider some-thing of that power of Mary which is said to be next to omni-potent. But to understand Mary's power, even in a partial way, is to understand better the stupendous gifts of grace be-stowed on her by God, in view of her divine maternity. The expression used by the angel Gabriel at the annuncia-tion must be truly the best signification of Mary's unique privilege. It would seem that the title "full of grace" could not then be improved upon by-man. But what we do with the interpretation of the angel's salutation is bound to fall short of the reality signified, which was Mary's real state of soul. Full-ness of grace is generally to be understood as a superabundance of holiness. Mary's sanctity was unquestionably inferior to the 1Published by the Benedictine Convent of Perpetual Adoration, Clyde, Missouri. 158 May, 1958 Do WE KNOW OUR MOTHIi~? created sanctity of her divine Son in proportion as the divine motherhood falls short of the prerogative of the' hypostatic union. This beautiful prayer, composed by the archangel, is at the same time a perfect description of the woman chosen by the Second Person of. the Trinity to be His own Mother. Here was the one human being preserved from the stain of sin, the frightful darkness of spiritual death, and in no way subject .to the influence of Satan. Mary. must certainly have received from God a greater fullness of grace than any other mere creature; for Christ, her divine Son, the Son of God, is the principle of grace, that is, the very author of grace. Now the more closely one approaches the source or principle of anything, the more he participates in the effect of that principle. And the Blessed Mother was the nearest one to Christ in His humanity because He assumed His human nature from her alone. For this reason it is held by Catholic theologians that the sanctity of Mary transcends the sanctity of all the saints in heaven and sur-passes even that of the highest angels. Upon this p~rfect creature Christ depended for His physical life His flesh and blood. From her He drew His beauty of figure and features, His sensitive hands, His majestic head, and His eternally lighted, gentle, but piercing eyes. She was at the same time the mother of this babe with a human nature and this divine Person, Christ the Son of God. The great holiness and power of Mary which we reverently hope to understand better are inseparable from her Immaculate Conception. This privilege of our Lady was Solemnly defined by the Church as an article of faith. His Holiness, Pope Pius IX, on December 8, 1854, solemnly pronounced the dogma: We declare, pronounce, aad Vdefine that the doctrine that holds that the Blessed Virgin Mary in the first instant of her conception was kept entirely free from the stain of original sin by a singular grace and privilege of Almighty God, in view of the foreseen merits of Christ Jesus, the Savior of mankind--We declare, pronounce and 159 SISTER M. ANNICE P~eview for Religious define that this doctrine has been revealed by God and. therefore must be firmly and constantly believed by all the t:aithful.-° The p.rivilege itself, which Pope Pius IX declared to, be a part of revelation, is Mary's actual preservation from original sin through the merits of Jesus Christ and is revealed implicitly or confusedly in the book .of Genesis (3:15). God's own words spoken to Satan are, "I will put enmities between thee and the woman and thy seed and her seed: she shall crush thy head and thou shalt lie in wait for her heel." Christian scholars and exegetes have interpreted this passage as God's first enun-ciation of His victory over the devil through the plan of the promised Messiah. In an implicit way Mary is undeniably mentioned here. For Christ, the Savior is the posterity of "the woman" in conflict with the posterity of the serpent. Further-more, this victory over Satan would not have been complete if Mary had not been preserved from the stain of original sin by the merits of her divine Son. We' may say that, as a whole plant is contained in a tiny seed, the Immaculate Con-ception of the Messiah's Mother is contained in the promise of God recorded in Genesis. From the writings of both Greek and Latin Fathers there is evidence that they held as part of their ancient tradition the two principal ideas which implicitly contain the dogma of the Immaculate Conception; namely, Mary's absolute purity and the contrast between her and Eve, the~,first mother of mankind. Yet the Eastern Church seems from the first to have. had a clearer conception of the dogma itself. However, the controversial period in the West which led to a gradual clarification of the dogma must be recognized as a providential act--a kind of blessing in disguise. So much sincere, honest debating, discussing, and resolving of difficulties by the best minds in the Church was a splendid theological education and orientation of the minds 'of the faithful. Indeed, the whole '-'Thomas J. M. Burke, S.J. (ed.), Mary and the Po$es (New York: The America Press, 1954), pp. 43, 44. 160 May, 1958 DO WE KNOW OUR MOTHER? movement may well have been the main factor which helped to bring about the solemn definition of the dogma by Pope Plus IX in 1854. The second phase of Mary's plentitude of grace refers to her increase of grace at the Incarnation of the Word. The Fathers of the'Church hold that Mary conceived the Word spiritually, as it were, by an act of faith and charity before she conceived Him physically. Thus, she conceived Christ intellectually and volitionally by the act of her holy will before He descended into her blessed womb. And St. Thomas has told us that Mary's fullness of grace increased at the Incarna-tion of her divine Son, giving as the cause of this the mutual love of Jesus and Mary. This new increase of grace is con-sidered the immediate or proximate preparation disposing Mary for the miracle of divine motherhood. Since the grace had to be proportionate to this perfection, it seems that a special grace from the Word efficiently caused Mary to be properly united with Divinity itself. She. is thus the unique creature, who, by giving to Christ His human body, is really included in the divine plan of bringing the Son .of God into the world. The moment that Christ entered into Mary He undoubt-edly produced in her an increase of divine love such as had never been experienced by any soul on eaith. For no other being was ever to have the privilege of giving Him His very flesh and blood. Rather, He was ever afterward to give it for them and to them, on the cross, in the Eucharistic Sacrifice, and in Holy Communion. Since grace is the effect of God's active love for His creatures, the mutual love of Mary and her Son must also have brought about a constant increase of grace in her soul. For God loves all men, yet loves the elect in a special way. Surely then, His unique love of His own Mother would effect an immeasurable superabundance of grace in her. It is extremely important to understand that God gave Himself so freely to Mary's soul as to constitute it in a strictly unique state of holiness. Hers was/~ love of the highest natural 161 SISTER M. ANNICE Review for Religious as well as supernatural level, and she was entirely responsive to her Son's love for her. All souls seem to have a kind of unlimited obediential potency or capacity for knowledge and love which God freely makes use of to lead them to the beatific vision. Yet they are born shackled and earth-bound by Adam's sin. Light and love must be admitted into their souls through the instrument of sacramental baptism. But in Mary we find, as we have said above, a person entirely preserved from the blight of sin in her very being, life, and powers. From the very origin of her life her judgment was clear and her appetites pure and virtuous. Thus they were like clean arrows coming forth from an absolutely pure source. The Psalmist expresses something of the mightiness of such a person in the words, "Who is this that cometh up from the desert, fair as the moon, bright as the sun, terrible as an army in battle array?" (Cant. of Cant. 6:9). It is surely with justifiable reasons that theologians teach that grace increased constantly in Mary's soul throughout her life. While we know that Mary's graces had limits set to them, since they were in a human soul and thus not absolute, we do not know, nor does it seem possible for us to fully understand, to what degree of holiness she attained as she progressed to-ward the end of her earthly life. The growth of charity in any soul causes the will to avoid sin and cling more lovingly and generously" to God. True charity also extends to all men after first extending to God, thus uniting all souls in Godhthe greatest joy that can come to us on earth and a kind of imita-tion of our beatified life. The Church teaches us that merit, prayer, and reception of the sacraments are the requisite means for growth in charity. Of course, God alone can produce this divine virtue in man's soul; and His love is ultimately the reason for any infusion of grace into a soul. But good acts may contribute to one's increase in grace by disposing the soul for it and, in a way, morally meriting that reward. Moreover, St. Thomas teaches that where acts of charity are not remiss 162 May, 1958 Do WE KNOW OUR MOTHER? (short of that which the soul is capable of) the soul receives the reward immediately and thus grows in grace progressively. Surely, all of Mary's acts of charity were such as to receive immediate reward and her consequent progress is again im-measurable. Mary's prayers, next after her divine Son's, must also have been the most efficacious ever uttered on earth. They thus not only had the most meritorious but also the most im-petratory value. For these are proportionate to the humility, confidence, and perseverence of the one praying and surely Mary excelled in all of these virtues. After considering Mary's initial fullness of grace and her continuous development in God's love and grace, we come finally to the unique grace of her Assumption into heaven. The Church has explicitly defined this privilege of Mary as an article of faith. Toward the end o~ the Holy Year, 1950, our present Holy Father solemnly pronounced the dogma that "The Mother of God was assumed body and soul into heaven." Since this dogma is so closely related to that of the Immaculate Conception, which we have been considering, it will be sufficient to recall that from the sixth century forward the departure of the Blessed Mother from this world has been celebrated in the liturgy of the Church for August 15. And it can be accepted without question that the death of the Blessed Virgin cannot be regarded as a penalty for personal sin, nor as the effect of original sin. Thus again, it is through theological argument, proceeding on premises that are a part of divine revelation, that the Church arrives at valid conclusions about the Assumption of Mary. The state of incorruptibility of the Blessed Mother's sacred body is the first fact which is inferred. Since the Mother of God is associated in such a singular manner in the triumph of her Son over Sat.an, she shares in the privilege of being preserved from the penalty of death and decay in the grave. It is accepted that the Blessed Mother who is "the woman" spoken of in the Protoevangelium won a threefold victory over Satan; namely, over sin by her Immaculate Conception, over 163 SISTER M. ANNICE Review for Religious concupiscence by heq virginal motherhood, and over death which is a penalty for~ s~n" by a triumphant resurrection similar to that of her divine Son. Thus, we may say' that the Blessed Mother, side by side with her divine Son, triumphs over death and corruption. The dogma of our Lady's Assumption is so closely associ-ated with her Immaculate Conception that it is almost surprising that the papal proclamation on the former took place a whole century later than the Immaculate Conception. Yet they are two very distinct and separate privileges even though the in-corruptibility of Mary's body is to be inferred from her complete preservation from sin and her virginal purity. Perhaps no one has more beautifully and emphatically pointed out the close relationship between these unique privileges than His Holiness, Pope Pius XII. In his encyclical, Fulgens Corona, he asserts: From now on the faithful can meditate more deeply and more profitably on the mystery of the Immaculate Conception. For there is a most intimate connection between the two dogmas. The mar-velous wisdom and harmony of the divine plan by which God wished that Mary be free from all stain of original sin emerge more fully and clearly in the light of the assumption of the Virgin Mary into heaven. Thd promulgation of this doctrine has shown it to be the crown and perfection of that earlier privilege bestowed upon her. These two illustrious privileges, then, stand out in radiant glory, the one as the commencement, the other as the crown of her earthly life. The total innocence of her soul free from every vestige of sin has as its counterpart and fulfillment the total glorification of her virginal body. Since she was intimately associated with her Son in His struggle against the foul serpent of hell, so also she shares in His glorious victory over sin and its tragic effects? Having considered briefly the unique graces of our Blessed Mother, we ought surely to grasp somewhat better the reasons for her great power in obtaining graces for all men. We .must also realize more profoundly that by her divine motherhood Mary participated in the love, holiness, and power of God, in a way possible to no other of His creatures. As a concluding consideration we might ask ourselves, Precisely how does Mary 30p. cit., p. 14. 164 May, 1958 Do WE KNOW OuR MOTHER? enter into the very act of' our salvation? For we know in a general way that she is coredemptrix of the whole human race and that her mediation like her motherhood is truly universal. The general teaching of the Church regarding Mary's causality in our sanctification is that of moral causality. virtue of this causality Mary is present by an affective presence in the souls of those who are in the state of grace and pray to her. This kind of presence may be attributed, to a degree, to any beloved object which, though absent from the one loving it, is virtually present to the lover. So, our Blessed Mother is affectively present in the souls of her children who truly love her. And this affective union tends toward and contributes to the real union which we shall enjoy in heaven with Christ and His Mother. As we r~each higher degrees grace and charity and our wills advance in the transforming love of God, we must surely grow in the love of both Jesus and Mary. But it is through her union with her divine Son in His sacred passion and death that Mary is the coredemptrix of men. The teach, ing of the Church is that Mary merited de congruo all that Jesus has merited de c~ndigno for us. Thus, her merits are completely in union with and dependent on those her divine Son. This has been confirmed by the pronouncements of a number of the supreme pontiffs in their encyclical writings. Pope Leo XIII, in his encyclical on the rosary, says: This is why we pour forth the Angelic Salutation so often to Mary, that our weak and halting prayer be given the confident strength that it needs; we plead with her that she intercede with God for us and that she become our advocate. The prayers we say will find great favor and efficacy with Him if they are commended by the prayers of the Virgin; for He addresses to her this gracious invitation: "Let your voice sound in my ears, for your voice is sweet" (Cant. of Cant. 2:14).4 Pope Pius X in/ld Diem Ilium asserts: So by reason of her mutual sharing in the afflictions and desires of Christ, Mary "most properly deserved to become the reparatrix 40p. cit., p. 100. 165 SISTER M. ANNICE of the sinful world," as well as dispenser of all the benefits won for us by the bloody death of Jesus. Of course, we do not deny that the right to confer these benefits belongs to Christ . Yet, in consideration, as we have said, of the sorrows and sufferings common to both Mother and Son, the Venerable Virgin has been empowered to be "for the entire world its most afficacious mediatrix and advocate with her only Son.''s And Pope Benedict XV, writing on the Queen of Peace, states: And since all graces which God deigns to bestow in pity upon men are dispensed through Mary, we urge that in this terrible hour the trusting petitions of her most afflicted children be directed to her: This seems to be the fact underlying the establishment of the feast of Mary Mediatrix of All Graces. In the beautiful hymn of Matins for this feast the Church sings: "All the gifts which the Savior merited for us are bestowed by His Mother Mary. The Son gladly loads us with benefits in answer to her" prayers." Likewise, our present Holy Father has extolled Mary's part in our sanctification and the salvation of the whole world by instituting the new feast of Mary Queen of the Universe. A study of the encyclicals on our Lady would, of course, require another paper or rather a whole volume. But even a brief study of the Mother of all graces--Mary, full of grace~ is sufficient to convince us of the power corelative to such grace. Summer Sessions (Continued from page 134) inquiries to: The Registrar, S~hool of Theology, St~ Mary's College, Notre Dame, Indiana. Dr. Karl Stern, noted Catholic psychiatrist and author of The Pillar o.f Fire and The Third Revolution, will conduct an Institute on Mental Health in Religious Life from June 9 to 13 at St. Louis University. The institute will be limited to religious women. ~ Oil. cit.,'p. 56. 6 William J. Doheny, C.S.C., and Joseph P. Kelly, Papal Documents on Mary (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1954), p. 151. 166 Survey ot: Roman Document:s R. I:. Smit:h, $.J. THE DOCUMENTS which appeared in the /lcta/lposto-licae Sedis (AAS) from December 1, 1957, to January 31, 1958, will be surveyed in the following pages. All page references to AAS throughout the article will be accom-panied by the year of publication of AAS. The 1957 Christmas Message On December 22, 1957 (AAS, 1958, pp. 5-24), the Roman Pontiff gave to the world his annual Christmas message. Taking as his text the words of the Breviary, "Lift up your eyes, O Jerusalem," the Holy Father exhorts the faithful to lift up their eyes to the great things of God as did the shep-herds and the Magi at the sound of angels and the mysterious shining of a star. Though this vision of God's great deeds, continues the Vicar of Christ, brings strength, peace, and har-mony, yet many today, attracted by that science which ex-tends the power of man even into the realm of the stars, can bring themselves to admire only the great things of man, changing the angelic hymn to read, "Glory to man on earth." This attitude, he adds, is typical of homo faber, man the maker who reveals his greatness in his works; modern man, however, r0ust learn that by adoration before the crib of the Man-God he will not retard the course of his technical prog-ress but will add to it the crowning perfection which will make of him, homo sapiens, the mar/ of wisdom who easily under-stands that what God manifests in the mystery of Christmas is incomparably greater than all human power, energy, and effectiveness. Devoting the first major part of the message to Christ the comforter amid the discords of the world, His Holiness 167 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious begins by remarking that modern man is torn between ecstatic admiration of the harmony of nature and bitter discouragement at the chaotic existence for which he himself is responsible. This, he adds, has led some moderns to fall into a total pessi-mism, holding that disharmony is the characteristic mark of the human situation. The 'source of. this pessimism is to be found in the preponderantly material progress of modern times which has deprived man of a sense of true human values. Born and trained in a climate of rigorous technology, .man tends to conform himself to the characteristic superficiality and insta-bility of technology, emphasizing speed, sense observation, and material energy at the expense of the intellectual and the spir-itual life. The answer to this total pessimism, Plus XII points out, is to be found in the mystery of Christmas. How can man despair of the world, if God Himself does not despair of it? How can the glory of the Creator of all things shine forth in a world based only on contradiction and discord? If men would but learn the lesson of Bethlehem that every human action should look to eternity for its direction and effectiveness, then the activity of man on earth would not be condemned to absolute discord but, on the contrary, would manifest the eter-nal harmony of God. In the second principal part of the message, the Pope considers Christ as the pledge of the harmony of the world. He' begins by noting that the coming of the Incarnate Word, while confirming man's right to dominion over the world, shows at the same time that this dominion can be achieved only by the Spirit of God. On the le~)el of man this means that man must find in his soul, image of the Spirit of God, the link which unites all the world into one harmony. It is in his spiritual element that man will find the sign of unity, order, and harmony. Where the spiritual abounds, so also does the harmonious. If, however, the spiritual element (and conse-quently the divine element) is no longer regarded as funda- 168 May~ 1958 ROMAN DOCUMENTS mental, then there is no longer a possibility of harmony; the world becomes something estranged from man, obscure and dangerous, ready to be not an instrument, but an enemy. It is true, continue~ Pius XII, that Christ has not removed all the consequences of original sin t:rom the world. Dishar-mony and consequently sadness will still exist among men'until the dawn of the eternal day, but this sadness will not be a sadness of death, but the sadness of an expectant mother whose sorrow is turned to joy after the birth of her child. For the goal assigned to history after the time of Christ is the birth of a new life, of a humanity in constant progression toward order and harmony. In the final major division of his message, the Pontiff considers Christ as the Light and the Way for men in establish-ing harmony in the world. The Christian, the Pope begins, is not merely an aesthetic admirer of the divine order in the world; he is also an ardent defender of it against those forces which would prevent its realization. This zeal for the preservation of harmony should be the decisive element whenever there is question of the development or abandonment of projects which human ingenuity now has the possibility of realizing. Recent military progress, adds the Pope, has certainly produced new signs in the heavens, but they are also signs of that pride w~hich feeds hatred and prepares conflict. Accordingly the seekers of harmony must center their efforts on the achievement of peace, a good so precious and desirable that every effort for its defense is well spent, even when it involves the sacrifice of some legiti-mate aspiration. May the Prince of Peace, concludes the Pon-tiff, through the solidarity of all men of good will, complete that which is lacking in the order and harmony willed by God for the world. For Priests and Religious On November 6, 1957 (AAS, 1957, pp. 1046-47), the Sacred Penitentiary published the text of a prayer for priestly 169 R. F. SMITH" Review for Religious vocations composed by His Holiness. The faithful may gain" an indulgence of ten years each time they recite the prayer; and, under the usual conditions, they may gain a plenary in-dulgence if the prayer is recited daily for a month. Under the date of December 15, 1957 iAAS, 1958, pp. 51-54), the Sacred Congregation of Rites issued an instruction in which it is stated that a priest who is sick or one who is going blind so that he can read only very large print can obtain from the congregation a dispensation to celebrate a votive Mass of the Blessed Virgin or the daily requiem Mass. The rest ,of the instruction details the rules and rubrics which must be fol-lowed in celebrating those Masses. On December 9, 1957 (AAS, 1958, pp. 34-43), the Holy Father delivered an allocution to the Second International Congress of the States of Religious Perfection. The tendency toperfection, begins the Pontiff:, is a habitual disposition of the Christian by which, not content with fulfilling the duties which bind under sin, he strives with all his might to love and serve God and to serve his neighbor for the sake of God. Toward this ideal every Christian is invited to tend; but it is realized in a complete and a surer way in the three states of perfection described in canon law and the three apostolic constitutions, Provida Mater, Sponsa Christi, and Sedes Sapientiae. However, the Pope adds, this does not mean that outside such states there does not exist a true tendency toward per-fection. There are a great many men and women of every. condition who bind themselves to the evangelical counsels by private vows, being guided in matters of poverty and obedience by persons selected by the Church for this purpose. To such persons none of the constitutive elements of Christian perfection is lacking, even though they do not belong to a juridical or canonical state of perfection. Although, the Holy Father continues, Christian perfection is always the same in its essentials, still, because of the condi- 170 May, 1958 ROMAN DOCUMENTS tions of modern times, the manner .of applying oneself to per-fection needs modification. This need for modification applies in a special sense to those outside the states of perfection who occupy high social rank and discharge important duties. Such persons are constrained to surround themselves with a certain display of comfort, to participate in official festivities, and to utilize expensive means of transportation. These are things that appear at first sight difficult to reconcile with the poverty and humility of Christ; nevertheless, even in the midst of such material goods, nothing is lacking in their total consecration to God, for grace works in them according to the words of Christ: "That which is impossible to men is possible to God" (Lk. 18:27). The Holy Father then considers some of the problems that arise from the need for modification and ildaptation in the states of perfection. After noting that the desire for religious perfection does not preclude the consideration of the renovation and adaptation of the means toward perfection and after observ-ing that the objective norm for determining the spirit of any religious group is the mind of the founder as that is expressed in the constitutions of that group, the Vicar of Christ takes up the matter of obedience; for, as he says, the movement of adaptation has provoked a certain tension in this area of re-ligious life. In particular, the accusation is made that obedience imperils the human dignity of the religious, hinders the maturing of his personality, and prevents him from being orientated to God alone. In considering the first objection, the Holy Father notes that the religious should recall, that when our Lord said that His disciples would find repose of soul in following Him, He was teaching that over and beyond legal observance they would discover the sense of true submission and Christian humility. These attitudes will free the religious intekiorly, showing him that his acceptance of his state of subjection is a placing of 171 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious himself in the hands of-God whose, will is expressed through the visible authority of those whose role it is to command. In reply to the charge that religious obedience leads to infantilism, the Holy Father observes that this charge cannot be proved true in the case of the.majority of religious in their intellectual, affective, and active lives. Moreover, it must be recalled that St. Paul in Ephesians 4:12-13 urges the faithful to grow into the perfect man; and in I Corinthians 13:11 he explicitly forbids Christian adults the modes of thinking and feeling which characterize childhood. The Holy Father recalls that already in 1952 he had used these texts to show that a sane education teaches a man to use his liberty wisely and to become independent of his educator. If every member of the states of perfection, superior as well as subject, would apply to himself these texts of the Apostle, then every danger of infantilism would vanish, without jeopardizing legitimate au-thority or submission to its decision. Nor, continues the Vicar of Christ, can the objection be sustained that obedience turns a person from God. Superiors command only in the name of God, and subjects obey only for the love of Christ. In this way the subject daily ratifies the total gift of himself to his only Master. In the final part of the allocution, the Pontiff urges the various religious groups to collaborate with each other; he like-wise exhorts them to close and constant contact with the Holy See. This does not mean that the Holy See wishes a centraliza-tion of everything; centralization is a system of government which makes all decisions and reduces subordinates to the role of mere instruments. Such centralization, says the Pontiff, is entirely foreign to the spirit of the Apostolic See. Neverthe-less, the Holy See can not renounce its character as the directive center of the Church. Accordingly, while leaving to constituted superiors the initiative foreseen by the constitutions, the Church must retain its right and exercise its function of vigilance. 172 May, 1958 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Clothes and the Woman On November 8, 1957 (AAS, 1957, pp. 1011-23), the Holy Father spoke to a group of fashion stylists, giving one of the longest allocutions that he has delivered in recent months. Taking as his subject feminine clothing fashions and their attendant moral problems,~ His Holiness begins by examining the threefold purpose of clothing. The first purpose, he points out, is that of hygiene, a purpose which arises chiefly from the need for protection against the climate and other external agents. Hygiene, he notes, can never justify license in clothing nor can it permit a style of clothing that is injurious to health. Modesty, the natural pro-tection of chastity, is the second purpose of clothing. This purpose must outweigh all caprice and must always preside at the determination of clothing styles. The third purpose of clothing is that of fitting appearance. This purpose arises from the natural and legitimate desire to enhance the beauty and dignity of a person by clothing. From this third purpose of clothing arises fashion or style, the express function of which is the enhancement ot: physical beauty and which is characterized by elegance. Fashion, Plus XII continues, is of great social importance for style has always been regarded as an external index of public manners. It is, then, says the Pope, providential that there should be persons like those he is addressing who are technically and religiously prepared to free style from undesirable tendencies and who see in fashion the art whose partial purpose is to give a moderate enhancement of the beauty of the human body but in a way which will not hide but rather adorn "the imperish-ableness of a quiet and gentle spirit" (I Pet. 3:4)'. His Holiness continues by saying that style, like other good things, can be corrupted by fallen human nature and turned into an occasion of sin and scandal. This is the reason why at times ecclesiastical tradition has been extremely severe 173 R. F. SMITH Revicw ]or Religious with regard to matters of fashion. Nevertheless, Christianity does not demand an absolute renouncement of care for the external appearance of the body; for this would be to forget the words of St. Paul: "I wish women to be decently dressed, adorning themselves with modesty and dignity" (I" Tim. 2:9). Accordingly, the Church does not condemn ~tyle when it seeks a fitting enhancement of the body; this attitude of the Church, however, does not stem from a purely aesthetic view-point, but rather from her conviction that the human body, God's masterpiece of the visible world, has been elevated by the Redeemer to be a temple and an instrument of the Holy Spirit. It is evident, adds the Pontiff, that alongside decent style there also exists indecent style; the frontiers between these two are sometimes difficult to determine; but one principle always remains true: style may never be a proximate occasion of sin. Another source of immorality in style is an excess of luxury, for this leads to a grasping for wealth, is an offense to those who live by their own labor, and reveals a cynical attitude toward poverty. In their thinking on the problems of style and fashion, suggests the Holy Father, his listeners should keep in mind three concrete rules. First, they should never underestimate the influence of style for good and for evil; secondly, style must be consciously directed, not slavishly followed; and, thirdly, in all sectors of fashion moderation should be observed. The Pontiff then concludes his allocution by urging, hig hearers to bring their Christianity to bear at meetings of the fashion w6rld and in their work to fight for the supremacy of spirit over matter. Talks on Various Subjects On November 24, 1957 (AAS, 1957, pp. 1037-40), the Pope broadcast a message to the people of Milan at the con-clusion of a special mission of several weeks duration preached in all the parish churches of that city. Calling Milan the heart 174 May, 1958 ROMAN DOCUMENTS of the national economy, the Pontiff noted that the elevation of the earthly city to the level of the city of God is the goal of the Church. He urged the Milanese to apply themselves to the same goal and concluded by expressing the hope that the close of the mission would mark the date of the city's spiritual renaissance. On November 10, 1957 (AAS, 1957, pp. 1024-27), Pius XII gave an allocution, to the International Congress of the Private Schools of Europe. He told the group that the attitude of a country toward private schools is an accurate reflection of its spiritual and cultural level. If the State reserves the task of education exclusively to itself, it thereby manifests an attitude incompatible with the fundamental rights of the human person. On November 24, 1957 (AAS, 1957, pp. 1027-33), the Pontiff talked to a group of physicians concerning several moral problems of so-called reanimation. Reanimation, as envisaged here, means" the use of respiratory apparatus to bring back to consciousness a patient who has suffered a central paralysis which consequently has paralyzed the respiratory system. The first question asked about the case is whether or not there is a right and an obligation to utilize respiratory apparatus in all such cases, even in those which in the judgment of the physician are completely hopeless. In answer the Pontiff replies that a person has the right and" duty to take the means necessary to preserve life and health. This duty, however, usually obliges a person only to the use of oidinary means; that is, means which do not impose an extraordinary burden on himself or on others. On the other hand, it is not forbidden to do more than is strictly necessary for the conservation of life and health. In the case described, then, the physician's rights and obli-gations are correlative to the rights and obligations of the patient, who, though he may licitly use the respiratory apparatus, is not obliged to do so, since it is an extraordinary means of con-serving life and health. With regard to the family of the 175 R. F, SMITH Review for Religious patient, their rights and obligations depend in general on the presumed wishes of the unconscious patient, provided he is of age. As to the proper and independent rights of the family, they are ordinarily obliged to use only ordinary means. Hence, if the use of artificial respiration would be too costly for them, they may licitly insist that it be stopped and the doctor can licitly obey them. As the Holy Father points out, this is not mercy killing, since the removal of artificial respiration in this case causes death only indirectly. The second problem concerned the question of extreme unction in such a case. The Holy Father replied that artificial respiration should be prolonged until extreme unction is ad-. ministered. If, however, the circulation of blood has already stopped, then extreme unction cannot be administered if the patient is certainly dead; if, however, this is doubtful, then extreme unction may be administered conditionally. The third moral problem asked whether a person in a state of hnconsciousness because of a central paraly.sis and whose life--that is, his blood circulation--is maintained only by artifical respiration, and in whom no improvement is noted for several days, should be considered as.dead; or should one wait for the cessation of blood ciiculation in spi~e of artificial respiration be-fore he can be called dead. To this the Holy Father replied that the question of the moment of death is a purely medical one and hence does not pertain to the competency of the Church. On November 9, 1957 (AAS: 1957, pp. 1023-24), the Pontiff gave an allocution to the Ninth Convention of the Food and Agriculture Organization, noting with sadness the depopu-lation of agricultural areas since "1952 because 6f the decrease in the prices of agricultural products. This loss of population, he remarks, is disquieting; for it is a threat to a sector of population which, because of its stability and fidelity to tradition, is more than ever necessary for the equilibrium of society. 176 May, 1958 ROMAN ~)OCUMENTS On November 27, 1957 (AAS, 1957, pp. 1033-36), the Holy Father spoke to Theodore Heuss, president of the Federal Republic of Germany, in the presence of many German notables, expressing praise for the accomplishments of the German people since the war and voicing the hope that the new Germany will assist in the unification of Europe. The Pontiff's interest in the federation of Europe was also shown in the speech on. ~his subject which he gave on December 3, 1957 (AAS, 1958, pp. 31-33), to members of the Council of the Municipalities of Europe. On November 5, 1957 (AAS, 1957, pp. 1003-10), the Pope spoke to the ecclesiastical archivists of Italy, telling them to care for their archives not merely for the sake of erudition, but for the glory of God and the honor of the Church; for in their archives there are many beautiful records which if revealed would give striking testimony to the holiness of the Church during the course of history. Miscellaneous Matters On November i, 1957 (AAS, 1957, pp. 1051-56), the Holy Father issued an apostolic constitution in which he pro-vided that all who make a pilgrimage to Lourdes between February 11, 1958, and February 11, 1959, inclusively may, on the day of their choice and after confession, Communion, and prayers for the intention of the Holy Father, gain a plenary indulgence. On December 25, 1957 (AAS, 1958, pp. 29-30), the Pontiff issued an apostolic letter in which he created a new" rank within the Pian Order founded by pius IX in 1847. The new rank will be called ~he Grand Golden Collar; it will be superior to the three grades into which the order was already divided and will be used to decorate heads of states and other persons of wide authority. On December 13, 1957 (AAS, 1958, pp. 50-51), the Sacred Congregation of Rites issued a decree concerning the 177 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious cdmposition of the paschal candle, of the two candles lit during Mass, and the candle which in some places burns before the Bl~ssed Sacrament in place of. a lamp. The decree "states that it is the mind of the congregation that all these ~andles contain a fitting proportion of wax, olive oil, or other vegetable oils. The congregation, however, leaves to the bishops' conference of each country the determination of the per'centage of these materials-that must be' in these candles if they are to be used for. liturgical purposes. Where there is no national conference of bishops, the ordinary of the place is to decide the matter. On October 24,. 1957 .(ASS, 1957, p. 1045), the same congregation approved the formula for. the blessing of a radio station; the text of. the blessing may be found in AAS,-1957, pp. 1043-45. ,. On June 21, 1957 (AAS, 1958, pp. 46-49), the same congregation approved the introduction, of. th~ cause of the Servant of God Dorothy. de Chopitea Villota Serra (1816-91), wife and mother. On the same day (AAS, 1958, pp. 49-51), the same congregation also approved the reassumption of the cause of. Blessed' Marcellinus Joseph Benedict Champagnat (1789-i840)', priest, donfessor, and founder of the Institute of the Little Brothers of Mar~,. ' " Book I?eviews [Material for this department should be sent to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] THE SACRED HEART IN THE LIFE OF THE CHURCH. By Margaret Williams, R.S.C.J. Pp. 248. Sheed and Ward, New York 3. 1957. $3.75 . Mother Williams describes her book as "an anthology of the passages taken from the writings of the men and women best qualified to speak: lovers and thinkers and doers, apostolic scholars, saints all walks of llfe, persons heart-conformed to Christ who have.p.ut iato their own words 'the purposes oi: His Heart to generation upon generation' in the life of the Church." This is ajust estimate; and she has composed an impressive book which has impact: the 178 May, 1958 BOOK REVlgWS swing, and sweep of the devotion through the centuries to its prominent ¯ place in the Church today. Many of the selections make fascinating reading, and sprinkled through the narrative sections are many drops of knowledge valuable to any client of the Sacred Heart. In this treasure are many little-known selections from well-known' authors. Especially valuable to,this reviewer were Bossuet's sermon and Cardinal Newman's meditation, as well as A Kempis's sermo~ and the Meditation on the Five Wounds from the times of Richard Rolle. To know that the great Benedictine nuns at Helfta were accustomed to offer each past hour to the Sacred Heart; that St. Clare adored the Divine Heart in the Blessed Sacrament many times a day; that St. Catherine of Siena in vision watched Christ exchange His own Heart for hers--such details enrich us all. And to know that the Litany .of the Sacred Heart was collected by Venerable Madeleine Remuzat, a Visitandine nun living around the time of the deliverance of Marseilles from plague in 1720; that June was made the month of the Sacred Heart after a girl in Paris asked her bishop in 1833 to make this request; that-St. Plus X added the threefold invocation to the prayers after low mass--such knowledge adds to our apprecia-tion of our present-day practice of the devotion, thereby leaving us the richer for it. Theologically the book contains a few unfortunate expressions. Christ's Heart did not "experience the full range of human feeling, for Himself or for others" (p. 8), unless the latter phrase somehow enables contrition or penance or remorse to be included in His experi-ence. That "all dogmas can be traced to Scripture, in which they are at least implicitly contained . . . and devotions grow from dogmas" (p. 10)~ is a statement which needs explication, to say the least, and might lead the unwary into historical quicksands if "dogma" means a truth solemnly defined by the Church as pertaining to faith. That "religion is the highest of all virtues because of its object, which is God Himself" (p. 25) seems to confuse the virtue of religion with "religion" in general, taken as the sum-total of all our relationships with God, especially faith-hope-charlty; this may be a possible opinion, but should not be stated as if it were simply certain. But these are rather fine points and do not obscure the great value of the book. There is one matter, however, which, it seems to this reviewer, ought to be brought to the reader's attention lest the value of the book be somewhat dissipated. This is the necessity of clearly dis-tinguishing between '~divine Love" and "the Sacred Heart." The two are not simply tl~e same, as Plus XII repeatedly implies in 179 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious Haurietis ~lquas in passages like "the heart of the Incarnate Word is rightly considered the chief index and symbol of the threefold love . . ." (America Press translation, No. 27). This distinction is of utmost importance when we begin to trace the devotion in history. "Divine Love" appears from the first moment of human history and permeates the bible story of man's strivings to answer or reject that Love. "Divine Love" is a 'theme of the Fathers of the Church and a constant delight to Benedict and Chrysostom and Venerable Bede. But this devotion to "divine Love" is not yet devotion to the Sacred Heart--a point which Mother Williams plainly makes in a note on page 23: "The organic Heart of Christ, the proximate object of the Devotion, is not clearly indicated in these passages [in the early Fathers] although it is implied indirectly." Again on page 66: "It is the authentic mark of the Devotion to the Sacred Heart thus to see the physical and not merely the metaphorical Heart of Christ as the symbol of His love for men." This is fine, but the readet~ will justly ask how to reconcile such statements with earlier ones such as' that on page 2: "Looking to the spirit rather than to the letter, [the second way] finds the Devotion in the varying blends of its elements, tracing it back to the early ages of the Church and even into Old Testament times. In this sense, Devotion to the Sacred Heart has been at work since God first set His heart upon man." This way seems to the reviewer to lead to an obscuring of the very nature of this particular devotion; the "elements" ofa devotion are not yet the devotion itself, and there is danger of mere nominalism in calling "Devotion to the Sacred Heart" any cultus in which the symbolic Heart of Christ does not actually appear. This one distinction clarified, the book will richly repay any reader. An epilogue gives a good summary of the connection between this devotion and that to the Immaculate Heart; the proper distinc-tions are made, and the p~'oper emphasis indicated. An interesting appendix lists scripture sources for the. various invocations of the Litany of the Sacred Heart. The style is at times a bit too colorful for some tastes, as on page 134: "Satanic violence, blood-drenched and black, beat against the white serenity of Providence . " But far more representative of the spirit and .worth of the book is this: '*The Devotion to the Heart that so loves leads straight into the Trinity. Mother Church, like Mother Mary, will think these thoughts of Christ's Heart from generation to generation, till all her children have been called home into the Vision of Love." (p. 219) Thank you, Mother.--D~XVID J. BOW.X, AN, S.J. 180 May, 1958 BOOK REVIEWS A HISTORY OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. Vol. VIII. Period of the Early Nineteenth Century (1823-1878). By Reverend Fernand Mourret, S.S. Translated by Reverend Newton Thomp-son, S.T.D. Pp. 807. B. Herder Book Company, St, Louis 2. 1957. $11.00. Those who have the earlier volumes of Father Thompson's trans-lation of A History of the Catholic Church will be eager to add this eighth and next-to-last volume to their sets. They are already aware that this work fills a definite need as nicely as it fills a library shelf. For those as yet unfamiliar with this translation of Father Mourret's Histoire Generale de l'Eglise, a quick survey of their library stacks will make its usefulness apparent. Such an experiment will reveal that the shelves contain no comparable treatment of church history in English. This nine-volume treatment of the whole of church history helps to fill the gap between the smaller text-book histories and the more specialized studies of particular persons or periods. The present volume begins with the pontific.ate of Leo XII when the political fallibility of the Council of Vienna had already become harshly appar.ent. It ends with the death of Pius IX whose reign was climaxed by the pronouncement of papal infallibility at the Vat-ican Council. The history of the years between is made to march in step with the popes and the Catholic crusade to bring Christianity to a Europe which had largely rejected it and to mission lands which hardly knew it. The story is an absorbing, nineteenth-century re-enactment of the passion, crucifixion, and resurrection of Christ in His Mystical Body. Since the nineteenth-century battles of the Church were largely European, one of the chief values of this book is that it is written by a Et~ropean. Father Mourret gives the reader the benefit of his extensive reading of French works and periodical records which would otherwise be inaccessible to most Americans. Moreover, the author is not distracted from events of greater historical significance by any feelings of a need for detailed treatment of the beginnings of Catholicism in the United States. It is humbling to find that Father Mourret gives the ecclesiastical history of the United States in the early nineteenth century only 7 out of the 807 pages of his book. However, honesty demands the admission that this coverage is fair enough if one takes a world view of church affairs during the period. It should also be said that this curtailment of side issues gives the author space for more adequate treatment of the European story he is admirably equipped to tell. 181 ]~OOK REVIEWS Review for Religious Father Mourret's story is a factual one. He is not so much a ra-conteur of illustrative anecdotes about important people as he is a careful, clear-headed recorder of events: As such he uncovers many revealing facts about such elusive subjects as Freemasonry, socialism, and liberalism. His book will also give very helpful data to teachers and others who must explain such matters as the Syllabus of Errors, the definition of papal infallibility, or the 'perenially popular topic of the relationship of church to state. Although in Father Mourret's marshaling of facts he himself does not tend toward generalizations, he will perhaps excuse a con-cludi- ng general comment on his work. This generalization regarding the book, which the efforts bf Father Thompson as translator and the willingness of. Herder as publisher apparently second, is that any library will find it a useful addition to its shelves.- CLYDE B. KELLY, S.J. RICHES DESPISED. A STUDY OF THE ROOTS OF RELI-GION. By Conrad Pepler, O.P. Pp. 181. B. Herder Book Company~ St. Louis 2. 1957. $3.25. "Modern industrial man is out of tune with the hymn of nature." As a result, the riches of Christianity--a religion rooted in natur~ are despised. So says Father Pepler, insisting that man must live close to Mother Nature for his spiritual welfare. The author's analysis of modern society indicates that most men, when "out of tune and out of time with the rest of the divine orchestra of the universe," become more and more unreceptive of grace. "Looking down into the nature o~c man and seeing in that nature its .reflection of the whole world of nature," "Father Pepler claims that the world's recent material advances have hidden the nature of man under "an encrustation of artificiality." Between man and his God have ariseh the immense barriers of a false culture and a false imagination. The author sagely comments on the harm done by'modern mediaof corn- " munication in achieving a uniform, mechanical imagination. The Christian religion was designed for the man in touch with nature; modern man is not in touch. The point is exemplified by our difficulty in understanding the natural symbolism of the sacra-ments, sacramentals, and the Mass. It is Father Pepler's opinion that "the Christian religion cannot exist normally and as an integral part of society in the artificiality of modern civilization." To correct the situation, "society must somehow be changed in order to allow grace to work freely." So the author offers some 182 May, 1958 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS principles and practical suggestions for fhe change. For instance, acceptance of. the .standard of the cross is one of the principles. Riches Despised is a thought-provokirig book which reads easily. Its insights into the interaction of man and nature are reminiscent of Anne Lindbergh's Gift from the Sea. Father Pepler has delved deeply into a baiic problem of ~modern Christianity and offers a lucid, penetrating analysis; this is the "great merit of the b6ok. But his. solutions, are disappointing and generally unacceptable, though distributists and advocates 6f a "back-to-the-land" move-ment may be pleased. Making the monastic ideal a rallying point for the wo~Id of 1958 and suggesting that a foundry need employ no .more than fifty men seem to this reviewer to be highly imprac-ticable suggestions.¯ One small point: Is it accurate to refer to religious obedience as a "denial by vow of . . . personal initiative"? Religious who work close to Mother Nature will find in this book an appealing apologia for their way of life. Religious who wonder why it is so difficult to find God in all things will find a partial answer in these pages. Readers attracted by the ideas under-lying the Grail movement will want to read Riches Despised~ RA~YMOND C. BAI~IMHART," S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS THE BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 400 North 'Broadway, Milwaukee I, Wisconsin. My Other Self. In Which Christ Speaks to the Soul on Living His Life. By Clarence J.: Enzler. This,book is not to be read but pondered, prayerfully. It lends itself ideally to St. Ignatius's second method of prayer. The author's presentation of Christ's ¯address to the~ soul is done reverently and with convincing verisimilitude. When ment.al prayer is difficult, try using, this book. It should help to dispel the mists with which the centuries may have shrouded the'figure of Christ for you 'and b'ring Him right down to the present. Pp. 166. $3.50. The-Plaints of the Passion. Meditations on the Reproaches of the Good Friday Service. "By Jude Mead,'C.P. You will find abun-dant material for .many meditations in the author's explanation of the eleven Reproaches chanted on Good Friday during the venera-tion of the. cross. There is an excellent introduction on the "various senses of Holy Scripture. Pp. 133. $3.50. 183 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religio~ts The Rubrics of the Revised Holy Week Liturgy in English. Pp. 69. $1.00. The Simple Rite of the Restored Order of Holy Week. Pp. 95. $1.00. Both books were translated and edited by Gerald Ellard, S.J., and F. P. Prucha, s.J. They are published with the authorization of the Sacred Congregation of Rites. They should do much to help. both priests and people to an appreciation of the new liturgical setting that now enshrines these holiest days of the year. Separated Brethren. A Survey of non-Catholic Christian De-nominations. By William J. Whalen. Living in a Protestant country, our relations with our Protestant neighbors will be much improved if we get to know more about their religious background. Such knowl-edge will also guide our zeal in our efforts to bring these "other sheep" back to the true fold. Priests and teachers ot: r~ligion should find the book particularly helpful. Pp. 284. $4.50. MESSRS. M.~H. GILL AND SON, LIMITED, 50 Upper O'Connell Street, Dublin. The Mother of the Little Flower. A Sister of St. Th~r~se of the Child Jesus Tells Us About Her Mother. Translated by Reverend Michael Collins, S.M.A. Present and future mothers of families wi/l find in the mother of the Little Flower a concrete realization to a heroic degree of the virtues which .make mothers of families truly valiant women. The translation is adequate but not always happy. Pp. 123. Paper 6/-. GONZAGA UNIVERSITY BOOK STORE, Spokane 2, Washington. Contemplation in Action. A Study of Ignatian Prayer. By Joseph F. Conwell, s.J. This book deals with the problem: "Is there a prayer proper to the Society of Jesus, .and if ~o, what is its characteristic note?" The author's interesting ~indings are supported by the authority of the Gregorian University, Rome, where they were first published as his doctoral dissertation. Pp. 123. Paper $2.50. B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, 15-17 South Broadway, St. Louig 2, Missouri. Conquest of the Kingdom of God. By John of the Angels, O.F.M. Translated by Cornelius F. Crowley. There is an unction in the writings of the ancient authors on the spiritual life which is all too frequently lacking in the writings of the writers of today. You will find that unction in the present volume which is the tenth in the "Cross and Crown Series of Spirituality." Pp. 216. $3.95. 184 May, 1958 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS The Church. An Introduction to the Theology of St. Augustine. By Stanislaus Grabowski. Priests, seminarians, and all students of St. Augustine will welcome this scholarly work on the Church accord-ing to the mind of St. Augustine. There are abundant footnotes and they appear where they are needed and have not been relegated either to the end of chapters or at the end of the book. This is the author's second notable, book-length contribution to the study of St. Augustine. His first was The All-Present God. Pp. 673. $9.50. The Liturgy of the Mass. By Pius Parsch. Translated and adapted by H. E. Winstone, M.A. The faithful are becoming more and more liturgical minded. The present volume, the third edition of a classic on the liturgy of the Mass, will do much to enable them tq under-stand the Mass and, as a result, help them to participate in it more fruitfully. Pp. 344. $4.95. Eve and Mary. By Peter Thomas Dehau, .O.P. Translated by the Dominican Nuns of the Perpetual Rosary, La Crosse, Wiscon-sin. This book is a study in contrasts as the title indicates. It con-trasts the pride and disobedience of Eve with the humility and obedience of Mary; the temptation of our first parents with the temp-tations of Christ in the desert. The book makes unusual spiritual reading for ,topics rarely considered are treated at length in its pages. Pp. 268. $3.95. P. J. KENEDY & SONS, 12 Barclay Street, New York 8, New York. The Sacrifice of Praise. An Introduction to' the Meaning and Use of the Divine Office. By V. G. Little. This book is much more than an explanation of how to say the Roman Breviary taking into account the most recent revision of the rubrics. It does this and does it well. But what inakes the book really outstanding are the chapters on The Genesis and Growth of Vocal Worship, The Office Through the Centuries, The Breviary, The Nature of the Office, The Redemption of Time, The Substance of the Office, The Divine Office, and the Life of Prayer. Even religious and priests who have said Office for many years can read these chapters and come from their reading with a new or renewed appreciation of what a treasure they have in the Bre~;iary and what a privilege is theirs to be able to say it every day. Pp. 200. $3.00. DAVID McKAY COMPANY, INCORPORATED, 55 Fifth Avenue, New York 3, New York. The Popes on Youth. By Raymond B. Fullam, S.J. Anyone who has anything to do with the education of youth, be he layman, 185 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religiou.~ religious, or priest, will find this book invaluable as a reference book where he can easily find the official teaching of' the Church on the many problems .connected with the education of youth today; as a source book for conferences and study groups; as a guide to his efforts and source of encouragement. That the book is meeting with the success that it so ricl~ly deserves is indicated by the fact that a second edition has already appeared. Pp. 442. $5.00. THE NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. Dogmatic Theology. Vol. II. Christ's Church. By Monsignor G. Van Noort. Translated and revised by John J. Castelot, S.SI, an~d William R. Murphy, S.S. This second volume of a ten-volume set on the science ot: theology measures up fully to the high standard of excellence established by the author and translators in the first volume, The True Religion. The present volume is divided into two sections. The first is apologetic, i.e., it treats the Church as viewed from outside in the light of reason; the second is dogmatic and views the Church from inside as illumined by faith. All interested in theology, but particularly teachers of religion on the college level, will find the book very useful and stimulating. Pp. 428. $7.00. Eucharistic Reflections. By Right Reverend Monsignor William Reyna. Adapted by Winfrid Hetbst, S.D.S. This is a new, revised edition of the very popular eight small volumes entitled Eucharistic Whisperings. The book is very useful for visits to the Blessed Sacra-ment. Pp. 404. $4.75. Ponder Slowly. Outlined Meditations. By Francis X. Peirce, S.J. Meditation books tend to similarity. This one is different. There is an utter lack of formality. Each meditation consists of a number of thoughts announced in ghort, pithy phrases leaving the reader free to develop them according to his needs. The material for the book was originally collected by the author and used by him for tric~ua and retreats to Sisters. In their present form the meditations should prove helpful to all who make a .daily meditation. Pp. 323. $3.95. PAGEANT PRESS, 101 Fifth Avenue, New York 3, New York, Chosen Arrows. An Historical Narrative. By Sister Mary de Lourdes Gohmann, O.S.U. The Ursuline Sisters of Louisville, Ken-tucky, will complete the first centenary since their foundation in the autumn of 1958. To mark the occasion Sister M. L. Gohmann has written a vivid account of the trials, labors, and successes that divine 186 May, 1958 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Providence has accorded these valiant workers in His vineyard. In her narrative the dry bones of historical fact are brought to life by the imaginative re-creation of many a conversation. The book is of interest not only to the members of the Ursuline Order and their many friends, but to all who are interested in the history of the Catholic Church and the history of Catholic education in. America. Pp. 533. $5.00. THE SCAPULAR PRESS, 329 East 28th Street, New York 16, New York. A Little Queen's Request. An Informal Biography of Saint Th~r~se for Our Teen-agers. By Sist

Issue 15.3 of the Review for Religious, 1956. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious MAY 15, 1956 Mofher Xavier Ross . Sister Julia Gilmore Sis÷ers' Retrea~s--III . Thomas Dubay Our Lady and ~he Apos÷ola~e . EIIwood E. Kieser Communffy C;rosses . Wlnfrld Herbst Devotion ÷o fhe Sacred Hear÷ . c:. A. Herbsf Book Reviews Questions and Answers Summer Schools VOLUME XV No. 3 RI:::VII:::W FOR RI:::LIGIOUS VOLUME XV MAY, 1956 NUMBER CONTENTS MOTHER XAVIER ROSS --- Sister Julia Gilmore, S.C.L . 113 SISTERS' RETREATS-~III Thomas Dubay, S.M . 128 SOME BOOKS RECEIVED . 134 OUR LADY AND THE APOSTOLATE--Ellwood E. Kieser, C.S.P. . 135 COMMUNITY CROSSES--Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. : . 141 DEVOTION TO THE SACRED HEART--C. A. Herbst, S.J . 145 FOR YOUR INFORMATION . 152 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 17. Quinquennial Report . . 0 . 156 18. Offering Holy Communion for Others . 157 19. Exempt Religious Obliged to Say Orationes Irnperatae . 158 20. Obligation of Religious to Make Will . ; . 159 21. Computation of Time for Profession . 160 22. Impediment for Renouncing the Catholic Faith . 161 23. Meaning of Patrimony . 162 REPRINT SERIES NOT AVAILABLE . 162 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 162 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTSI Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 163 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1956. Vol. XV, No. 3. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November, at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by- St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approb.ation. Entered as second class matter, January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Geriild Kelly, S.J., Henry Willmering, S.3. Literary Editor: Edwin F. Falteisek, S.J. Publishing rights reserved by R-EVIEW FOR: RELIGIOUS. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. fl ot:her Xavier Ross Sister Julia Gilmore, S.C.L. [Editors' Note: This account of the foundress of the Sisters of Charity of Leaven-worth is adapted from Sister Julia's book, Come Northt.] TO the first call of the West, many of the Pennsylvania settlers responded, following the turnpike surfaced by the new bound-stone method inventedin England by John McAdam, driv-ing their Conestoga wagons on. through Indiana over its corduroy roads; others drifted their keelboats down the Ohio and Mississippi, breaking them up later and rebuilding them into settlers' cabins; others went no farther than Cincinnati, which was already calling itself "The Queen City of the West." Ann Ross was born there on November 17, 1813, the fourth of five children in the family of Richard Ross, a Methodist preacher, and his wife Elizabeth Taylor ROSS. Cincinnati at heart and in spirit was a frontier town built by pioneers, and Ann caught their spirit and courage early. Even in childhood she showed qualities of leadership as she decided the games for her playmates and captained every undertaking. Attractive, though never considered beautiful, she drew atten-tion unconsciously through her physical appearance as well as through her personality. Small, scarcely five feet, she was graceful in her movements, quick in perception and response, her dark wide-set eyes glowing with alertness. Her father's favorite always, he delighted in having her waiting for him after the evening meeting, when he came home with nerves so taut he had to let himself "run down" before he could attempt to sleep. His long discourses drilled his children in close listening and logical thinking--a boon to Ann all her life. Little is known of her early schooling or companionship; but, when she was about fifteen, she became acquainted with a convert, Victoria Robinson, a young girl of very decided character. As the friendship grew, Ann asked to accompany her on~ day to a church service. Although she knew nothing of Catholic devotion, at Bene-diction she knelt when Victoria knelt and stood when Victoria stood, yet for some unsurmised reason burst into tears during the service, but wisely said nothing about it when the girls left the church. The Rosses hearing of this visit made no effort to hide their displeasure, telling Ann that under no condition was she to repeat 113 SISTER JULIA GILMORE Reoieua for Religious the offense. However, this admonition seems to have made little impression upon Ann; for, in less than a year, she insisted upon at-tending Mass one Sunday with Victoria. During the Mass Ann felt coming over her the sweet sense of well-being until the Com-munion when she knew he'rself to be definitely outside the pale. She tried to conceal her tears while insisting after Mass that she be introduced to the priest who had said the Mass. Reluctantly, Victoria yielded to Ann's persuasion; and, when Father Mullin heard her expression of desire to be instructed in the Faith, he ac-quiesced and not too long after baptised her. As on previous occasions the Rosses were vociferous in their disapproval. Her approach to her father in his study tl~e afternoon of her baptism was direct and determined. The ensuing conversa-tion resulted in Richard Ross' mounting anger causing him to forbid Ann not only attendance at Catholic services but also the very men-tion of the name of Catholicism. His sneering abuse changed his house that evening from a haven of peace to a veritable cave of Aeolus full of storm. However, Ann showed her heritage of will power. Regretting as she did the breach in family relations, she, nevertheless, slipped out of the house regularly on Sundays to hear Mass. From her position as loved daughter of the house she soon became an outcast; even her picture was removed from the family group. This strained situation continued about a year; yet Ann seems to have been permitted (at least she continued) her friendship with Victoria. During the following summer Victoria told her she had learned about religious life as lived in communities and that she had decided upon such a life .as she felt a strong desire to turn all her efforts toward helping others. Ann knew nothing of sisterhoods, but in her quiet persevering way learned more of them after that conversation. The day she saw Victoria off at the wharf for her admission into a novitiate, Ann said in farewell, "But it won't be for long; I, too, have applied and have been accepted' for the convent at Nazareth." With her customary directness she approached her father when she returned home that morning and told him of her intention to become a Sister of Charity. His derision and rising temper did not deter her from following her set purpose. Hard as it was to separate herself from the family she loved so deeply, that very night she packed in her old-fashioned suitcase, called 114 May, 1956 MOTHER XAVIER ROSS~ a telescope, the few things she thought might be of use to her in a convent; and, in the early morning before anyone knew she was up, she slipped out of the house, heard Mass, then purcha, sed at the wharf her passage to Louisville from where she would go by stage the remainder of the journey to Nazareth, Kentucky. As she stepped over the threshold of the mother house of the Sisters of Charity of Nazareth that August 22, 1832, she felt neither sense of fear nor strange exaltation. She was being led a willing follower to some great untried destiny. What it was she did not know, but she was content to feel that she was cooperating in every way she could. The scene changes now. Up to this moment her life had been as simple, as free from adventures, as uneventful as a girl's life could be. If no.thing .had occurred to alter it, she might have con-tinued to be a rather lively versatile young person of uncatalogued tendencies. Her potentialities were unknown to others, whatever she felt ~ within herself. What she sought was a work or a calling in which life would yield its maximum possibilities, bringing into fullest play latent faculties. She had never complained about the loss of friends and com-panionship which her conversion to Catholicism had brought her. But it must have been very hard for her to leave the old environ-ment and come to live as she did among strangers. She accepted it all willingly, even joyfully, and certainly with tranquility. The evening of her arrival at Nazareth she was received into the novitiate: and, as was the custom at that time, she received a religious name as a postulant by drawing a slip of paper from among several held in the apron of the mother superior. As she looked at the paper her face expressed bewilderment. She had never seen the name Xavier before. (In various documents her name is spelled Xavia and in her own handwriting can be seen La Soeur Xavia written on the flyleaf of her old French reader.) Getting acquainted took little time; for the new postulant, Sister Xavier, adjusted readily. Nothing seemed strange to her. She rose at four-thirty with the others for the morning prayers said in common, followed through the prayers and work of the day, enjoying the routine of learning how to work on. the farm, in the dairy, the kitchen, the chapel. Under Bishop Flaget and Father David, her religious training and her secular studies progressed. Christmas of 1832 came and went: New Year's, 1833, was unmarked save by the cold and raw- 115 SISTER JULIA GILMORE Review [or Religious ness of winter. February held a great deal for the new postulant as the community council met and approved her for the habit which she received on the twenty-fourth of the month. With black curls gone, but with the same sparkling dark eyes flashing from under the white cap, Sister Xavier may have been less captivating in appearance; but she was nonetheless attractive. There was something compelling about her that obliged the casual observer to closer scrutiny. Her novitiate continued to be interesting to herl although it had its hard moments when the command "Possess your soul in peace and true humility" seemed to her an impossible counsel of perfection. Occasions had come, too, when the thought of home called so imperiously that it was all but impossible not to go back. Whether she heard from her parents during her first six months at Nazareth is not known. That she wrote at rather r~gfilar inter-vals may be presumed, for the custom of writing to parents seems always to have been part of the rule of the novitiate of the Sisters of Charity. She had not been a novice very long, however, when one day she was called to the parlor. Her joy was made poignant by the thought that at last her mother and father had forgiven her and had come to see her habited as a Sister of Charity. But the thought need never have formed; for as she stepped over the threshold of the parlor, her mother rushed toward her screa'ming in tears, "Oh, my poor disfigured child!" Taken aback Sister Xavier turned hope-fully to her father only to see his rude gesture and hear ugliness of tone as he said, "Take off that hideous cap!" at the same time removing it himself. With confidence gone, she stood bewildered for the moment. Then dashing from the room, she ran to Mother Frances' office where sobs had to subside' before her explanations took on coher-ence. Mother Frances' mind was made up' instantly and together they drove the three miles to Bardstown to consult with Bishop Flaget. He listened attentively and compassionately 6nly to say at the end, "You are under age, so you will have to return with your parents." So Ann put on the secular clothes brought by her parents; and the Rosses with their recovered treasure set out as soon as possible for Louisville by stage, only to be thwarted when they tried to purchase tickets there for the upriver trip to Cincinnati as the cap-tain at the wharf told them cholera was raging along the river. 116 May, 1956 MOTHER XAVIER ROSS, Frustrated, Mr. Ross took his family to the Galt House,. leaving them while he went about town on other business. A friend of Mrs. Ross', noting Ann's tears, said in the course of conversation, Ylsn't it a pity to pluck this young flower from the hand of God?" No reply was made, but Ann followed up her advantage; and, when they were alone in their room, she said to her mother, "How can you see me suffer so and make no effort to make me happy?" Her mother's reply was like blinding sunlight bursting through storm clouds, "Well, Ann, my dear child, if you can get away without your father seeing you, you may go with my blessing." In a flash Ann kissed her mother, ran down the stairs, across the lobby and up the street, fearful every moment of meeting her father. She went to the Infirmary of the Sisters of Charity, ex~ plained her being there, waited a few days, and, when her parents did not come for her, returned to Nazareth, resumed her novitiate and upon taking her vows the following February was sent to be a member of the staff of the Orphan Asylum in Louisville. She seemed particularly adapted to the routine of the orphanage and showed in many ways her enjoyment of working with the children. After several years she was appointed the sister servant of this same orphanage (the term then used to designate a sister superior). Whatever time she could afford away from the children, she spent in a little unheated dormitory alcove, planning lessons, doing mend-ing, making up accounts. During the winters, and these can be very severe in Kentucky, an actual poverty demanded heat be pro-vided only' in that part of the house occupied by the children. This took a toll of Sister Xavier, as one winter she contracted a heavy cold" that settled in her ears and resulted ultimately in her total deafness. But nothing deterred her from continuing her work., : Following the Louisville assignment came appointment as sister servant of the academy in Nashville, Tennessee. Her itiitial moiathd there began propitiously, but. in the springof 1848 cholera broke out:; the academy:dosed, and Sister Xavier,with the other teachers joined the si~ters at the.hospital caring for .qictims of the plague. Ofteri' she went about the streets of Nashville'~fom house"to house doing" everything possible for the sick and giv;ing whatever 'con-solation she could to the stricken, many ofwh6m hard made s~afit preparation .for death that was so imminent. A tardy f~ll followed a long,i.hdt surhmer"bef0re"the scourge abated ~and teaching.w~s:~resum~d: ?'(That yhar~.fini~fied," Si~te~ Xax;ier,. 1i7, SISTER JULIA GILMORE Reoiew for Religious .much weakened by :her experience, . was .reassigned as sister servant of the orphanage in Louisville. Some few letters still extant describe the times with their anxi-eties and reveal, as letters do, the characteristics of the writer. One of these in a significant way points up Sister Xavier's simplicity and loyalty at the same time that it makes a reader aware of her out-bursts of temper. The fact is that many who knew her, loved her, and admired her greatly never denied nor tried to conceal what ap-parently was a source of grief and embarrassment to her. Her tem-per, however, seems matched by her humility as she invariably sin-cerely and with simplicity asked pardon for her outbursts. The early and middle nineteenth century was an era of new modes. These were transitional years; changes came in ways un-expected; and customs of long years' standing were being laid aside to give place to the demands of a new and more progressive era. Among other things the administration of schools felt these modi-fications. Bishop Richard Pius Miles, O.P., of Nashville was not com-pletely satisfied with changes made in his staff by the mother house at Nazareth and a prohibition of the sisters' singing in the parish choir. Wishing to retain some as permanent members of his faculty and have a purely diocesan religious order, free from outside author-ity, he petitioned the mother house at Nazareth for a group of its sisters to establish such a community in Nashville. A tradition exists in the Nazareth community that the con-templation of this diocesan foundation in Nashville was generally known for quite some time. In the summer of 1851, Mother Cath-erine Spalding officially made Bishop Miles' request known to her entire community. Since this would mean the loss of some sisters to the still young Nazareth organization; and, as she knew well the countless dangers and hardships which confront communities in their initial stages, Mother Catherine wisely attempted to dis-suade from any precipitancy. She feared that courage might lead to peril. However, in due course, she gave full permission to any member who wished to form the nucleus of the new diocesan foun-dation. The very kindliest of feelings were distinctly manifest .as she made it clear that any sister wishing to remain in or go to Nashville was free to do so. The matter of this proposal was considered seriously, and none of those who accepted it arrived at her decision without thought and meditation. Many nights, lying awake hour after hour, Sister I'18 May, 1956 MOTHER XAVIER ROSS Xavier deliberated upon the proposition before she saw the step that she must take; and the grace came to take it. A new sphere of activity was opening; she was asked to fill it; she determined to lay personal considerations aside and follow the Master with im-plicit confidence in His providence. It was not, however, until the end of ,June that she was able to say t6 herself, "I will cleave to His command, 'Leave all and follow me.' " Not only for her, but also for each one in the group going to Nashville, there was a "giving Up," an "acting against self." Their sorrow was perceptible and deep. They were giving up forever their convent home and life-long friends in Kentucky. Such action brought grief of a nature fully understandable only to those who have had a like experience, but the urgent request they had received could not be lightly disregarded. For Sister Xavier and her five companions there was, along with other ties, the severance of companionship that had grown very close during nineteen years of religious life. She was endeared to the sisters of Nazareth and they were endeared to her. But now, in response to Bishop Miles' persistent request, they withdrew from the Nazareth community in the summer of 1851. Though the Sis-ters of Charity at Nazareth looked upon the separation in varied wa);s, in the years to come they would say of Sister Xavier with unanimous sincerity, "She was a heroine!" Others making the Nashville foundation were Sisters 3oanna Bruner, 3ane Francis 3ones and Ellen Davis (both of whom died in Nashville in 1854), Mary Vincent Kearney, and BaptistaCarney (who returned to Nazareth to be with her own sister in that com-munity). Two others, from Nazareth joined the Nashville group the next year: Sisters Pauline Gibson and Dorothy Villeneuve. All the members retained the religious names they had received upon their entrance into the Nazareth community. Not until 1895 were any alterations made in the habit they wore. Trials were not wanting to Sister Xavier and her valiant band; and, humanly speaking, it was hard for her to realize during these days the truth which she expressed so emphatically: "One finds God everywhere one seeks I~im; He alone is all one needs." But there were compensations, too. The number of sisters was not diminished but augmented, for several young girls sought da - m~sslon to.the new community as postulants as soon as the s~sters would receive them. The beginnings in Nashville were meager; the teaching sisters 1 19 SISTER JULIA GILMORE stayed at the hospital with the nursing sisters until an orphanage for boys was opened. This was followed in rapid succession by a school for girls and an orphanage for girls which also served as a boarding school. Within a year Sister Xavier had been elected the mother superior. Under her guidance the institutions grew, and work awaited the sisters on all sides. Mother Xavier apparently acted as mistress of novices as well as superior of the growing community. Some few 6f her instructions to members of the novitiate are still extant. Be-cause she knew the value of discipline and had learned God's ways with the soul, she could personally share such counsels as these: "Instead of reviewing in a too self-satisfied manner whatever you may have done well, cherish and improve every day the spirit of prayer and habitual recollection, obedience, humility, charity, sim-plicity, modesty, and fidelity. Then Christ will be with you and His presence is the only thing in which to take satisfaction . The conventions and courtesies of social intercouse should not be neglected nor disdained, as they are the natural aids to the promo-tion of God's work . Refinement of manner and virile spiritual life are close companions. They are essential to the keeping of the Rule . Every act of obedience is an act of faith, and the just man lives by faith .Divine love and humble prayer must animate you." Father Ivo Schacht (pronounced Scat), a zealous.Belgian priest, was appointed by Bishop Miles spiritual director of the community. He worked constantly toward the spiritual development of the sisters as well as the expansion of facilities in order to. care for more and more children.- .=. With this endin view, late in 1856, heobegan the construction of an academy and mother house on a part of farm grounds on which he had previously built an orphanage. To finance these buildings he used with the permissibn of his.bishop deposits re-ceived from members of the Nashville: congregation. The construc-tion was completed; the sisters, :no~cices, arid.postulants were living in the part to be used as a mother house; the academy had promise of a full enrollment. It would be but a short time before the debt on the building would be paid. Then, early in 1857, clouds began to appear on the horizon, small at first and not much noticed; but with the months they increased in size and proportion, throwing deep shadows upon the .young Nashville community. A misunderstanding .that had.lbeen brewing between Bishop 120 May, 1956 MOTHER XAVIER ROSS Miles and Father Schacht resulted in the latter's, withdrawal from the diocese. Whatever the difficulty between the two, certainly it should never have affected the sisters. But it did. Father Schacht deeply regretted the complicated situation in which he would be obliged to leave this group of Sisters of Charity, but he was power-less to assist them further. About July or August of 1858 when the depositors learned of Father Schacht's departure, they grew clamorous for their money. Had they but consented to wait, the debt in due time would have been liquidated; but they would not. Mother Xavier finding that the Bishop refused to assume the responsibility of payment took counsel with the sisters, and "the group resolved to sell everything they had in the world and pay those to whom money was due. Another Via Crucis had begun. All the institutions were flourish-ing; all would have to suffer. Mother Xavier was filled with so-licitude for the sisters, patients, orphans, and students. She had always regarded the bishop as a very pious man prompted by the best motives. Never, even in this trial, did an expression of bitterness or lack of reverence escape her in speaking of him. Invariably she said, "He means well." She understood how, without malice on either side, misunderstandings happen and cause very keen suffering to those whose aim is to make others happy. During this period of insecurity and anxiety, she made ac-quaintance with distress of mind, human weakness, misunderstand-ing-- all a part of the apostolate. The future appeared to her a maelstrom of black emptiness. As she said years later, it was this tribulation that taught her that "each loss is truest gain, if day by day Christ fills the place of all He took away." One consolation alone remained: the sisters were in agreement that whatever Mother Xavier undertook they would stand by her. Their one definite, expressed wish was to stay together as a com-munity. Previous to this, only flitting thoughts had come of ever leav-ing Nashville where they found themselves hemmed in on all sides by older communities; now the thoughts took deeper hold. As a metropolitan co.uncil would open early in September of that year, 1858, it was suggested that Mother Xavier make a trip to St. Louis to see if a new home could be found for the entire community. After much serious thought and 15efore reaching a decision, she urged the commu'nity, "Let us pray over the matter 121 SISTER ,JULIA GILMORE Reuiew for Religious first. Divine Providence has never failed us. It won't now. 13ut, Sisters, pray! We have come upon a crucial time; prayer alone will help us in this trial, and let your prayers brim over with faith!" Had she been made of less durable stuff, her interview with Archbishop Kenrick of St. Louis would have been most discourag-ing; for, although he gave close and sympathetic attention to her presentation of the situation, even asking an occasional question, his comment was terse: "I know of no bishop who wishes sisters." But Mother Xavier's faith and hope led her to ask, "Most Rev-erend Archbishop, if anyone of the bishops belonging to your prov-ince were willing to receive us into his diocese, would your Grace prevent him ?" A ring of admiration and honest sincerity shot tiarough his reply, "No, my child, I would not." When 13ishop 3ohn 13. Mieg~, S.3., from Indian Territory heard the facts the next day, he not only signified willingness to receive the community, but also radiated enthusiasm in his urgent "Come north as soon as possible!" The night Mother Xavier left Nashville for St. Louis, she and the sisters promised that should a home be found for them as a community, in gratitude to our Lady a novena in her honor would be said in perpetuity in all houses of l~he order daily. This novena begun in Nashville has continued down the years as the community made its foundation in Leavenworth and established houses in ten different states. With auctioning off re.al and movable properties, packing, find-ing homes for orphans, closing up houses, days passed rapidly: and by November, 1858, the first group of sisters left for Leaven-worth City, Indian Territory. In December the remainder of the community followed with the exception of Mother Xavier and Sister ,Joanna who remained behind to conclude all business trans-actions. This they accomplished by the end of 3anuary, 1859; and left the South with a balance of $9.00 to join the other members in Leavenworth City. Ability to endure hardship, coupled with foresight and perse-verance, had enabled the sisters to begin at once a day school and a boarding school. Cramped quarters constantly called for expan-sion; and with expansion came the work dearest of all to Mother Xavier--an orphanage. From the beginning of the new foundation, candidates joined the community; more could be accomplished as numbers increased, but with the increase other trials came. With 122 May, 1956 MOTHER XAVIEI~ ROSS the opening of the orphanage, adverse opinions arose; criticism came from within--the kind hardest to bear. But Mother Xavier con-stantly kept the supernatural motive before her saying, "Let the joy be in the doing, not in the end. If the Work succeeds we will know it is God's will." The sisters realized, of course, that in the mighty drama of " human living there was nothing less than a supernatural goal to attain. Education was simply too broad a term for them; there was more to the formation of their students than that "their minds be instructed, their hearts and heads be cultivated" as the Leaven-worth reporters penned in grateful tribute at the end of the first school year in Indian Territory. There was, rather, an ideal to be embodied in their students' lives: the ideal of the Maid of Naz-areth. To make this ideal a vibrant reality in the hearts and minds of their charges, the sisters toiled consistently, unfolding behind the curtain of daily living the drama of true advancement. In all ways the community toiled. The regular routine of domestic work included the gathering of wild fruit and nuts, for the sisters needed every bit they could garner; they planted, har-vested, canned, preserved, fished in the streams along with the other townsfolk, made their candles and soap as 'all pioneer women did. Wherever the sisters worked, Mother Xavier worked with them. Manual labor was a part of her day the same as her teaching of French and English composition, literature, music and art, manag-ing the household and going into the homes to nurse the sick until a hospital could be established. ,Her participation~ in all community activity was a transparency through which can be seen her charity and deep concern for the sisters, and the joy it gave her to be with them. As acquaintance with the sisters grew so did applications for membership. Accommodations were so meager that the time came when prospective members had to be refused for lack of space. This led to the planning and construction of a building outside the city limits that would serve both students and sisters. But, before the place was finished, it had to be boarded up for lack of funds. Never a financial wizard,, Mother Xavier had been unable to .do more than care for running expenses at the same time that the community lived in real poverty. When a loan was suggested as a means of getting the new academy finished and ready for occupancy, she was appalled by the idea. Debt w, as the nemesis that had dogged her footsteps before; 123 :SISTER JULIA GILMORE Review [or Religious now ag~iiilit was to pursue her. Raffles were resorted to, and for at least-six years two sisters and sometimes four went from coast to coast begging for funds .to pay off the debt. When Mother Xavier sent them "on the road" to "Trust in God and beg for funds," she had no way of knowing the humiliations that would come to them through sus-picion of being imposters, having all their luggage stolen, and the .refusals of bishops and pastors to permit them to solicit. When she .heard of these trials, she suffered with the sisters through-their hard-ships and anxieties but never lost hope. In one of her letters she said, "We. must put our shoulders to the wheel, and pratt, too, without ceasing." Through the united efforts of all the sisters, two years after the boarding-up, the new building was finished and opened, filled to capacity. Every. waking minute was taken up for the sisters with routine duties and spiritual exercises. Much of the time out: side of class went.to "being with the girls," conversing while busy with sewing or other needlework; for the foundress felt that her ,responsibility was to teach Catholic girls to take their place in so-ciety and to be a part of the world they lived in. She believed that all the ends she proposed could be gained by showing interest and trust in the students, and this she wished all the members of the community to show. She maintained that the best opportunities for association came during the free time when classroom formality ceased. Much as the future looked glowing for the young community and their charges, respite from anguish was short-lived for them. ~Tbe new academy was not open six months when, one cold Janu-ary day, the contractor called upon Mother Xavier demanding im-mediate payment of notes with 12% interest. Both she and the treasurer, Sister Joanna, begged for tim~; the notes were not due; and not a cent of money was available. It took an amount of per- .suasion to induce the contractor, James McGonigle, to wait; he was reluctant even to leave the building, threatening to put the place up for auction if payment were not made immediately. Again the sisters .faced the possibility of being made homeless. Calling together the entire community, novices and postulants as well as professed, Mother Xavier laid before them the circum-stances saying, "We .have no recourse except God; I tell you we have. nothing earthly :to. depend upon. You will have to pray hard. God will not forsake us in this our hour of need." 124 May, 1956 MOTHER XAVIER ROSS It was then she asked the sisters to form bands of three and rotate hours of petition before the Blessed Sacrament. The greater part of the next three days and nights found her keeping the vigil of petition, kneeling upright, her eyes closed, her hands clasped. She was oblivious of time. Grhdually the hope faded that .Mr. Mc- Gonigle would relent and withdraw his demands. The community council met and authorized Sister 3oanna to try to negotiate a loan in St. Louis for the required $27,000: During her absence the most severe of fasts was observed at the mother house while the prayers of petition continued strong and unabated. Weeks passed; weeks of hope. and faith and peni-tential prayer on the part of each one in the community. Not until five months had elapsed, however; did the answer come in the form of a telegram from Sister 3oanna urging Mother Xavier to come to St. Louis immediately as a loan could be negotiated. This was but a part of the answer to the petition. When the sisters returned from St. Louis, they were hurrying in to Leaven-worth to pay Mr. McGonigle when a gentleman, a Mr. 3ohn F. Lee, who had met Mother Xavier previously in St. Louis called at the mother house to tell her he had already paid the contractor. There was no way, naturally speaking, to express adequate gratitude for such magnanimity. As long as Mother Xavier lived, she used to say to the sisters, "Pray for him, for it is the only way we can-show our appreciation to him. Had it not been for his kindness and indulgence, Mount St. Mary's would long since have gone under the hammer of the auctioneer." In spite of those years of trial, the community grew and ex-panded, opening schools, orphanages, hospitals, foundling homes, from Missouri west to Montana and New Mexico. Mother Xavier continued to govern the community, although handicapped by deafness that first caused her to use a trumpet, then a dentiphone, until finally no sound of a~y kind penetrated from the outside although within her head constant pain was accompanied by a noise that seemed like huge slabs of stone knocking against each other. She continued helping with all tasks, gave conferences, and visited the houses of the community showing interest in every-thing, done by the sisters, admonishing, praising as the need might be. Through dispensation she had guided the community since its inception as Bishop Midge had thought it wisdom for her to do so; 125 SISTER ,JULIA GILMORE Reuiew for Religious in 1877 she asked to be relieved of the responsibility of office. With hearing completely gone and ravages of age making inroads, she asked that someone else take up the burden. ~Election resulted 'in Mother 3osephine Cantwell being placed in office; immediately she asked Mother Xavier to assume the spir-itual training of the members of the novitiate. For this position she was apt, as she possessed a particular gift in character discernment. She could hold up a very unprepossessing person in a certain light. and immediately that person seemed to take on new and unseen qualities: When asked her secret, she insisted she had none. Ob-viously she had; obviously, too, she interested herself in each indi-vidual .m~mber, learned the names of her family, her likes and dis-likes-- these gave the clue to abilities that once developed could make fo~ ha~opy and satisfying placement. All this taken together helped make Mother Xavier a contemporary of everyone, and an absolute absence of partiality gained the novices' confidence. " Mother Xavier's instructions to the novices, which fortunately are extant in part, brimmed with practical application. In these conferences she often repeated that the poor were to be treated with the same courtesy and respect as those abundantly blessed with the comforts and luxuries of life: "Be respectful to strangers; treat them with courtesy and kindness in order to draw them to God through yourself . Meet guests in a quiet dignified manner and. with a quiet cheerfdl look. Never go before externs with a dark gloomy.expression or in a frivolous manner . The Lord loveth a cheerful giver--then give cheerfully!" Invariably her instruc-tions closed with" "And, Sisters, be kind to the orphan; be good to the" poor." Busy herself always, she decried idleness in anyone, a fact which probably gave voice to these admonitions: "Always do what is expected of you, and more, much more: Do .not wait to be asked or told to do something. If there is a task to be done, do' it---quickly, quietly. The feet will go to the place the heart "is. Do .not boast either about doing extra work. In fact, nothing" is extra. As long as it remains to be done, it is your work . If we.have confidence inGod, we will have'cbniidence in ourselves. ¯ . . Be able to do things alon~! It is pitiful.to see Sisters unable to. do chores; study, go to prayers without ~eeking companionship:' Remember-~crows and sparrows flock together; eagles fly alone i"" Filled as her life was with the serious purpose of religion, Mother Xavier .still found ~ime for' much ~fun.She loved .drama, 1'26 Ma~, 1956 MOTHER XAVIER ROSS charades, pantomimes, and wrote and .t~ugb~t more than'one script for the novices or professed. He hearty laugh, spontaneous response to enjoyment, led one novice to write to her "father, "If you want to learn to laugh, come to our novitiate and we'll show you how." Gloominess had no part in her. She often said, "The sovereign remedy for mental agitation is prayer; we carl be bothered only if we let ourselves be bothered.". Through the years, she lived what she taught. Her words were not without example when she cautioned, "If you love God 'you will be courteous to each other . Guard your tongues, when a hasty thought would express itself. And remember, a witty person must be most careful, for often wit stings, and we never know how a word said in jest might wound severely a sensitive nature . Warm yourselves at the tabernacle fires. Love the Blessed Sacra-ment! There is no need of books when we speak to our friends; neither is there any need of books when we speak to our Great Friend." On the occasion of a community jubile.e when asked about the seeming length of years and community growth, she answered, "During the years I have watched our community grow, I have thanked Godfor the increase, it is true; but mostly I thanked Him for the spirit that makes our members practice virtue. I have noted, too, the development of ingenuity and a certain practical philosophy. This we need together with faith in God and the propensity 'to pull on through.' " When death came she had definitely left an impress on the community she had established. Hers was a vast life; sixty-three years of it were spent in re-ligion. During those years Mother Xavier's companions consciously or unconsciously imbibed her spirit which has become the heritage of the order. Her place in the hearts of the sisters can be estimated through a tribute given by one member at the time of Mother Xavier's death and which seems representative: "She was always solicitous for. our welfare and gave less heed to her own comforts than to ours. She encouraged us in every undertaking, consoled us in our troubles, nursed us in our sickness and advised us on all occasions. " : ;'She was mother to the poor and suffering, for no one enter[ ing her door to ask for help ever was turned away. Her helping hand banished poverty from many a pioneer home and. s.ent re.any a traveler on his way.rejoicing. No small, numb.e.L.oJ: orpha.n chil-drei~ found shelter,.food, care, and love under h~rroof '~. 127 Sisters' Ret:rea!:s--III Thomas Dubay, $.M. IN this present article of our retreat study, we shall consider three disconnected problems: the meditation expose, the use of humor, and the private conference with the retreat master. MEDITATION EXPOSI~--TIME LENGTH The first question to which we shall turn our attention deals with the length of the ordinary meditation expos~ given by the retreat master. The item was worded as follows: What time length do you ordinarily prefer for a meditation expose? __15 min. __20 min. __30 min. __45 min. __60 min. Further com-ment: (space provided) Table I gives the distribution of the sisters' answers to this query. Table I Meditation Expose--Time Length 15 min . 17 (2.5%) 20 min . 64 (9.3%) 30 min . " . 380 (55.1%) 45 min . 208 (30,1%) 60 min . 21 (3.0%) As would be expected, the majority selected a middle course of thirty minutes~ while the two extremes of 15 and 60 minutes are rather sparsely represented. It may be surprising to some that so large a number of sisters prefer the somewhat long expos4 time of 45 minutes, while relatively few favor the 20-minute meditation outline. More interesting than mere figures are the sisters' reasons for their choices. These we will consider under the heading of each time bracket and apportion according to the number of votes in each category. 15 minutes: Leave some of the period, especially thefirst period, for meditating by the sisters. Short--concise. 20 minutes: It should give the sisters sufficient time to develop the ideas or points exposed. It is not up to the retreat master to make the retreat for the sisters. 128 SISTERS" RETREATS--III . If the expos~ is longer, it usually is due to poor organization or needless repetition. No matter how good the speaker, ~ long expos~ tends to make listeners restless, especially in summer. Retreat masters seem to lack faith in sisters' poweb to meditate and weary them with too much talk. No energy left for meditation. 30 minutes: This would vary depending on the subject matter. Some 15 minute conferences seem more like 60 minutes and sometimes the reverse is true. There is a limit as to the amount one can take at one time. This seems relative to the amoun't of time provided for meditation following the expose. Our retreat meditations average I~ hours. Were less time provided, I would want less than 30 minute expose. This gives us 30 minutes for reflection and, therefore, would give a good balance to the meditation. I think usually some of the meditation lectures are too long, thereby not providing enough time for reflection. I have indicated the maximum. We are not permitted to leave the chapel until the full hour is completed. We need time to do a little thinking and praying for ourselves. If sisters spend free time in sewing, orifice work, etc., then it would be better to have longer medi-tations. If the retreat master has well chosen material and really gives it even 45 minutes is short. But if he has to read--well--let's make it 15! 45 minutes: I'm generally too tired mentally to meditate long myself because of going directly to retreat from school. It depends on the speaker. If he is really saying something, all right; but if not, cut it short. It is too hard to fill in the time when the retreat master makes it so short. Some conferences and meditations are entirely too short and I'm not contemplative enough. During retreat there is always plenty of time to think over all that has been given during the periods between talks. If the retreat master devotes less time all angles are not attacked. 60 minutes: Sixty minutes if it's stimulating. I admit I'm one of those rare creatures who likes instructions. Perhaps some mental laziness is implied in the fact that the time taken by the retreat master does not have to be occupied in personal reflection. All of which, of course, leaves the poor retreat master in a quan- 129 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious dary. He cannot possibly satisfy everybody. On the bright side, however, he can cgnsole himself that somebody is likely to be pleased no matter how briefly or protractedly he speaks. . . In a practical vein we may conclude that the whole picture sug-gests that most sisters would be pleased and fewest displeased by a meditation expos~ in the neighborhood of 30 minutes. In view of the sisters' remarks it may often be wise for the retreat master to consider varying this figure accbrding to subject, temperature, and an honest estimate of his own ability. HUMOR We next take up the question of intentional humor, in a medi-tation expose. It is of set purpose that we mention intentional humor (usually in the form of jokes), for, while the sisters universally like a sense of humor in the retreat master, not all of them desire jokes in the meditation expos& T16e' present item was worded as follows : Do you like jokes in a meditation expose? __.I prefer none at all ___It depends on the subject --_I enjoy a few Further comment : In this survey sisters who prefer no jokes at all in the medita-tion expos4 formed a small minority of 49 (7.1%); those who enjoy a fewnumbered 285 (41.4%); and those who specified that joke-telling must depend on the subject of the meditation numbered 355 (51.5%). Several sisters pointed out that the answer would depend also on the fitness of the joke, the manner of telling;-etc. One mentioned that she always enjoys a joke, while only one stated that she likes many. ~., Excerpt,s from the sisters' written comments follow: Just enough to break the tension which ordinarily comes durin'g retreat. Maybe three or four, but at.retreat [ really want to make a retreat. If it is a real meditation exposd I prefer none; in a conference on.ly a few. Most sisters really serious about the business of sanctity do not come" to retreat to be entertained. .'. . 'Jokes for.the most'part are out of place. On the other, hand a greatness of faith brings with it a delicateness and. lighm~ss .of touch that/sees the'bt~.m~r ir~.'our seriousness, ¯ .'" ' ::.d ¯ " I never enjoy a joke during retreat if it is obviously told just to be clever. If it makes a'poinr it "is appreciated. " " , ¯ 130 May, 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS--III If they are real incidents or experiences, they are.good. Sisters are not so stupid as to enjoy stale old jokes. It depends on the fitness and the manner of telling as well as on the subject. Distinguish anecdot~tge and jokes from the wit and humor which flow out naturally and relax tension without distracting attention. Personal memoirs are rarely wel-come in quantity. These often bring home the point, and'it lessens the tension. Making a good retreat is hard work, and nerves get taut. Jokes help! There are some people--myself included--who can't really tell them. If one can't it is better to skip it. Be natural. I think most sisters are eager to hear more about our Lord and the spiritual life. In themselves these are serious subjects and do not call for joking as a rule. We don't have to make a retreat to hear jokes. There are sut~icient'magazines,'etc., that can supply us with jokes. Not standard jokes, but a real sense of humor that sees through things, to what makes them really, funny, or unimportant, or ridiculous, or sublimely delightfu.1. The "Jokers" usually "give the impression that they missed their calling. A stage might better be their proper place. What sister wants jokes brought into a" medi-tation on the Passion? Yet I have heard such. And some jokes are just a trifle risque--a serious, saintly priest doesn't need such "props." I do not like too rriuch joking and funny stories. Nor do I prefer someone who seems to lack a sense of humor. I like,.to !augh ,once in a while! Sometimes meditation exposds are awfully long and dr'y, or they.are deep. A joke helps and relaxes you so you can benefit from the rest of the meditation. Or maybe one is just tired before starting retreat. A'man.who knows and enjoys life and people cannot help being amused at the in-congruit. y he finds. I like to share his amusement, but I do not like "planted" jokes put in to get us in a good mood and least of all "corn." (T.V. comedian type of joke) I prefer a humorous aside when the occasion fits rather than formal jokes of the story type. To my mind, holy things should never be the subject of jokes: at times I have heard them lightly treated by priests who do not seem to. be sensitiv~e on this subject. I enjoy a f.ew jokes, .definitely yes, and I think they are ggod tension, breakers and interest revivers. And I want to put in a vote for well told anecdotes, pithy well-turned phrases, and apt short quotations. Not only do they make for interest and easier listening, but, even more important, they lodge in the memory, perhaps for years. From the above statistical breakdown and the. sisters', expressed opinions one conclusion towers above any othdr: while the sisters appre.ciate humor in gogd taste, they decidedly dislike jokes for the sake of jokes. Or to put.the matter in.othei.words, they want the jokes used ~O'fit the subject, to be well selected; .to have a worth-while purpbse,." and to be gomparatively few. in number. . THOMAS "]~UBAY Reoiew t~or Religious PRIVATE CONFERENCE The soul in its efforts to win the heights of holiness oftenfeels the need of. personalized counsel and guidance from a spiritual di-rector in some sort of situation or other. In our survey the sisters were asked ~vhether or not they thought a private conference with the retreat master and on the occasion of the annual retreat is a de-sirable answer to this need. The exact wording of the question is here given: Would you consider a private conference with the retreat master quite desirable? __.yes, sometimes __no Further comment" A majority, 436 (66.2 %), of the sisters favor the availabilit'y of a private conference: These religious do not think that such a cbnference need be frequent, but rather that it should be available for those who on occasion could benefit from it. A strong minority, 223 (33.8%), fed that the need and advisability of a private in-terview with the retreat master are either non-existent or almost so. These latter universally feel that the sister can and should get her prbblems settled in the confessional. The excerpts that follow give a representative picture of the views of the sisters who would find the private conference desir~ible. At times a private conference may be in order. During the whole year in some mis-sions there is no opportunity to get advice or help from a religious priest. Prob-lems do arise. For obvious reasons one does not wish to detain the retreat master in the confessional. Sometimes that is very beneficial. At one time I had a confessor when out on the missions who did not understand me. He got me all muddled. I was in agony. The retreat master straightened me out. Many times I would like to discuss some problems with the retreat master, but being a proud human being, I always find excuses for not doing, so and hence go on being bothered. It would be good if he were available without any red tape about getting to see him. One doesn't care to have many "women" know that one did so. What. they don't know does not create comment. It is impossible for every sister to talk with the retreat master, but sometimes it is essential to do so. In rare instances. Usually the retreat masters don't want them. They feel confes-sion is su$cient. Yet, I think here is a great lack of understanding. This, too. should be explained. When can a religious go with her problems to a priest? Why are higher superiors reluctant to see her do so? Why should the attitude be taken, that one will immediately degrade her community, etc.? If a religious doesn't 132 May, 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS~--III feel she has that freedom, she Will look for oth(r means to ~olve her problems, or just drop them and give up . . . I have been a superior . Sometimes the conferences, would have never cleared up my dit~cultieS, but a private conference where I can ask. questions did. I don't mean being a nuisahce. Let it be brief as possible and to the point. Let it not be of a nature which concerns your superior and yourself. Some do not seem to know how to draw the line between what should be discussed or what [not]. I have never had one so I do not know. It would be awfully nice to be able to ask questions sometimes. I have only taken the opportunity once, but it was a marvelous help and brought very lasting, peace and understanding of some questions. Not often, but some few times a conference would be definitely desirable. Again, private conferences are something else that some sisters have, perhaps, abused; but for the sister, say, with grave temptations against her vocation or perplexed by some moral problem, or the like, such a conference could be a golden opportunity. Per-haps, retreat masters do not realize how often sisters may be _extremely limited in their opportunities for such help during the year. It would have saved me worlds of worry in the past, but it is not the custom in our order, and so I've done without. There are some matters one simply can't get straight in the confessional. I have always been afraid to ask for one. It is much frowned upon. I feel it would be a great help. Not often, but it would be a big help if such an opportunity were provided. I know several sisters who actually need this help, and if it were offered to everyone, these would not feel embarrassed. In many cases it is necessary. The mission life presents many difficult problems. I know that I often long for a spiritual advisor and I am disappointed when I find that the retreat master has no time for me. Typical of those who oppose the private interview are these opinions: All the advice I need can be gotten in the confessional where ple.nty of time is given and personal satisfaction is not sought. There is such ,a thing as community loyalty and one way in which a disloyal member could prove herself so would be this. If a conferencd is needed, I think the confessional would be more suitable and proper. Nol because I have seen that they have brought discontent and envy among the religious themselves. if a retreat master is generous with his time and a competent advisor in confession, it so far has solv, ed all troubles. I can't see'how a retreat master in one private konferen~e c6uld possibly help one --~esp. when two or three hundred people are making the re.treat that usually lasts 5 or 8 days. I realize that there are exceptions, but my ow~ .feeling is that it is the "oddities" that usually ask private conferences. 133 THOMAS DUBAY ,.,'" I think you.can settle most questions in the confessional. You should go to your own superior for a privat~ conference. I think for a time this was overdone and it took time from retreat priest [sic] he should have spent.in preparation. The confessional at retreat'tim~ is a good place to settle problems. The Holy Spirit is more likely to be in on it too. One sister made an interestihg distinction: I think it depends on the individual. If she ii seeking attention"and sympathy, NO. If she is seeking higher heights of sanctity, YES. In accord with our expressed policy of not stating a p~eference for either opinion, we will allow the reader to evaluate the sisters' reasonings for himself. It seems compatible with this policy, how-ever, to point out that religious superiors and retreat masters should consider seriously the request of so many sisters for the availability of a private interview. Whether their decision be affirmative or nega-tive, the above discussion seems to demand a thoughtful examina-tion of the problem and a solution that will do the greatest'good to the greatest number. " SOME BOOKS RECEIVED " Only books sent directly to our book-review editor (see address on inside front cover or on p. 163) are included in our "Reviews and .AnnounCements." The fol-lowing books were sent to St. Marys: ~'., :. Index of The American Ecclesiastical Review, Volumes 10 i- 130 (July, 19392- dune, 1954). The Catholic University of America ",Press ~.620. Michigan Ave.,.N.E., Washington 17, D. C. $3.75. . ~ :.,, The Catholic Booklist, 1956. St. Cattiarind 2unior,~College,.St. Catharine, Ky. $.75. Salt It With Stories. By Cyprian Truss, O.F.M.Cap.JQseph F, Wagner., Inc., 33 Park Place, New York 7, N. Y. $3.95. There's More to Life than Living It. By Albert J. Nimeth. O.F.M. FranciScan Herald Press, 1434 W. 51st St., Chicago 9, II1. $.95. . ; , . The Eternal Shepherd-~4th Series. By.Thqmas H. Moore.S:4., Apostle.ship of Prayer, 515 East Fordham Road, New Ybrk 58, N. Y. $2.00. No Cross No C?'owfi." By Rev. Clement H. Ci'ock. Societ.y of St. patli, .2.1.8~ Victory Blvd., State~ Ikland 14, N. Y. $2'.50. " John Duns Scotus, A Teach& for~ Our T~rnes. B;/ ]3~ra'ud de Saint-Maurid~i Franciscan Institute,.St. Bonaventure; N.:¯.Y~-;,.~" -/." .~,: . : ¯ " Works of Saint Bonaventure: I. De Reductlone Artium ad Theologlarm "A° co'm-mentary with an introduction and translation by Sister Emma Therese Healy. ,Fr.an- ,Ciscan Instithte, St~ Bon~(,~iu're, N. Y. ' "" '" Maqt in the Franciscan Order. Proceedings of the Third Naticmal Meetin~ of Franciscan Teaching Sisterhoods. "Franciscan', Institute, St. Bonaventure," N. Y. "" M.aq¢ in Historg,i'n"~Fi~ith;, imd fn Devotiod. By Rev. "Anselm Burke, O. Carm: :Scapular Press, 329'E. 28thSt., New Y6rk',16,N. Y. $3.50. . (Continued bh "i~ge 162) " 134 Our Lady and t:he ,Apost:olat:e Ellwood E. Kieser, C.S.P. IN the year 747 of the city of Rome, a Jewish girl made a decision which completely changed the course of human history. She un-loosed a tidal wave which will forever break against the shores of time, washing with its current the souls, of all mankind. The girl in question: Mary of Nazareth. Her decision: to be the Mother of God, the first and greatest of all Christl~earers. Why her impact on history? Because the fate of mankind de-pended upon that decision. Mary spoke for humanity. Her consent was our consent. The consequences of her decision intimately effect our lives. 1-°op~ Plus puts it this way: "In the name of the whole human race, she gave her consent for a spiritual marriage between the Son of God" and human nature." Mankind, until this time separated from.God and condemne'd to frustration, Was rejoined to the divinity in the person of God's own Son. Infinite God was clad in finite flesh. Eternity entered time. Omnipotence became child. The source of all truth, goodness, and beauty dwelt among us in the womb of this girl. The drama of redemption has begun, and Mary con~ents to play the supporting role. Mary knew the implications of her rolel the price she would be required to pay,"its'effects upon millions of human lives. She faced her destiny. She adcepted it. She gave herself to its fulfillment with all the ardour and courage of her grace-filled soul. This destiny meant two thing's. She must possess Christ. She must give Christ. These are ihe two'poles of Mary's mentality to-w~ ird which all else converge. Without possession, without giving, Mary's life would have been incomplete. The~e two poles are found in every Christian who wants to give Christ to" others. He possesses and he gives. Both are absolutely necessary. He cannot give Christ to others if he does ~o~i. first possess Him by l~nciwledge and love. He cannot be a vehicle for Christ's grace if his soul has not been chiseled in Christ's likeness. This it is that makes the apdstle: possessing :Christ, he naturally tries to share his happiness. He tries to give Christ to others. In this, as in all else, Mary is both model and helper. Mary possessed Christ vcith an intimacy and completeness un-known to the greateit saints: .From her youth, she lives amid the highest reaches of'the transforming union. Christ identified Hirhself 135 ELLWOOD E. KIESER Reoieto for Religious with her so that she became for Him an alter ego. He made her another Christ. This caused her to project herself into God, who perfected and strengthened her as the vehicle of His love. She found the perfection of her thoughts in His thoughts; the satisfaction of her desires in His desires; her happiness in His happiness. It was God's thoughts that she thought; God's love that she loved; God's happiness that she shared. While retaining her own personality and freedom, she had become one spirit with God. She had put on the mind of Christ. She could say, even more truly than St. Paul, "I live, now not I, but Christ lives within me." This means that she drew God into her own soul, which be-came His temple and dwelling place. The depths of her soul were wrapped in His presence. Whenever her occupation permitted, she folded back within herself to commune with that Person who was closer to her than she was to herself. Her faculties were completely docile to His inspiration. She be-came a perfect instrument for His action. It was not she alone who thought, spoke, and worked. God did these things in and through her. This grace of indwelling is not specially reserved for Mary. Every Christian who is willing to pay the price, who allows the life of grace to flower in his soul, can.enjoy it. The degree of God's indwelling in our souls will never approach that of Mary. It may not become a matter of experience. We m~iy not feel His presence. But the fact of God's presence in the Christian soul remains. This is a matter of faith. God has promised it to us. There is, of course, a grace and a manner of possessing God which is reserved strictly for Mary. She is God's mother. It was in her body and through her cboperation that Jesus came into the world. He received His human nature from her. She gave Christ His human body, the hands to bless us, the tongue to teach us, the blood to redeem us. She is liter-ally, in the strict physical sense, a Christbearer. Their union could not have been more intimate. Their destinies were intertwined. His mission was her mission. He came to restore men to God's friendship, to take up mystical residence in their souls. She was to help him. She was to give Christ to the world. This ¯ is the second pole of Mary's mentality. She was not content with possessing Christ. Neither must any Christian be. Goodness naturally overflows. Sanctity diffuses itselL Christianity is essentially apostolic. Because she had identified her- 136 ,May, 1956 OUR LADY AND THE APOSTOLATE self with Christ and His mission, she bent all her efforts that others might possess Him also. Her love extended to the entire human race. She knew that 3esus was the first born of many children, that His Mystical Body was to reach out and embrace men of all ages. Because she loved Christ, she loved His adopted brothers, who were to continue His presence through history. This is why she tried to serve them. Love shows itself in gifts. Mary's gift was of infinite value-~her own Son. She could not have done us a greater service, for to give Christ is to give everything. He includes all else. Her gift of Christ took two distinct forms~ The one was in-visible and internal. The other was visible and external. Both are of great importance. The first of these is within the interior of Christ's Mystical Bod~. She is not the head of the Mystical Christ. But she is i~s mother. She cannot appeal to the divine justice. Only Christ can do that. But she can appeal to the divine mercy. What Christ mer-ited in justice, Mary merited in mercy. This is whq she is called the mediatrix of all grace, the aquaduct of divine life. It is through her that Christ's merits are applied to our souls. She merited for us through prayer and through sacrifice. Both of these activities are supremely fruitful in Mary, since she is so in-timately united to her divine Son. Her prayer is the prayer of Christ, simple, trustful, loving. She knocked and the door was opened. She asked and her prayer was answered. She sought and always found. The wedding feast of Cana is a good example. She asked 3esus to perform a miracle before His time had come. He seemed reluctant, but how could He refuse His mother? The miracle was worked, not that the hosts might be spared embarrassment, but that Mary's re-quest might be granted. Now she prays for us, that Christ may live in our souls: And she adds to this the merit of her sacrifice, which is that of her Son. He suffered as priest and victim. She suffered as mother. He offered the sufferings of His body and soul. She offered a heart pierced by seven swords. In their sacrifice, as in all else, the mother and Son were intimately united. Hers was the perfect sacrifice. She could have given no more. The victim who was sacrificed was more precious to her than life itself. Perhaps I should say that He was her life. In giving Him, she gave everything. Nothing could have been more pleasing to 137 ELLWOOD E. KIESER Reoiev3 for ReligioUs the Father, nothing more fruitful for our welfare. Her sacrifice was so complet~ely bound up with that of bet Son.that theologians call bet the coredemptix of the world. ¯ The modern apostle can merit as Mary merited. The degree dif-fers, but the fact remains the same. By prayer and sacrifice, we can bring Christ into the souls of men. kVe can earn for them the grace the)~ need so badly. Why is this? Because the Church is an organism, with many tnembers sharing a community of life. The good fortune of on~ member is the good fortune of all. My prayer and sacrifice make you holy, and your sanctity overflows and contributes to mine until we all attain the fullness of grace to which we have been called. In the spiritual economy, a single good act has reverberations through-out the entire universe. One act of charity performed today in Wash-ington, D; C., has immediate consequences for the entire world, for those in Canton and Moscow and Nexv Delhi as well as *those for whom I explicitly make that act. There seems to be a direct connection between the concentration camps of Siberia,. filled with witnesses for Christ, and the crowded seminaries "6f Catholic University', Menlo Park, and Maryknoll. I did not earn my own vocation. My cooperation was slow and halt-ing. Someone else earned that grace for me. Someone else brought Christ's merits down from heaven, that" they might be applied to my soul. Somewhere, todhy, a priest is cleaning a latrine: a Chinese peasant slips away from her neighbors to refresh herself.with the presence of God; an American girl slips an invoice into a. typewriter with the words, "For you, Lord." These are the people who are keeping the v~orld going, who are bringiflg down the grace which is life and strength. They hre Christbearers; they are apostles in the fullest and noblest sense. Th6s~ "whO" pray and make sacrifices giv~ power to the aposto-late, pr6v]de the fuel for those in the market place. They are'doers in the s'upreme' sense, for theirs is.the highest of activities. The world cannot be changed#ithout pr3ye~ and sacrifice. But with prayer and ~acrifice, the w6rld will be chang~d~ Grace will abound. Christ will be brought into the souls of /neff. This is Mary's promise at Fatima. "" But is this enough? Is this all' Mary did? No, this is not all. Contemplation overflows and expresses itseff in-activity. Both ale an int'egral part of the Christian life. i~Both are.flecessary for the 138 Mat!, 1956 OUR LADY AND. THE APOSTOLATE cont:inuadon of Christ in history. Mary prayed for others. Then she went to them, that they might learn to recognize and love ~her Son. This is the visible, external form of Mary's apostolate. She had no sooner pronounced those words, which, changed the ¯ world,, which brought eternity into time and the Infinite 'into finite flesh,' than she hurried off to Ain-Karem to share this joy with an-other. She alone possessed the good news, but she would not keep it to herself. Over the mountains she went and across the plain, that others might know. that the Messiah had come. To Elizabeth, she brought the presence of Christ. To tbe~infant John, still in his mother's womb, she brought the Holy Spirit. To both, she brought the joy of knowing that the kingdom .of God was at hand. To accomplish this, no price was too high, no inconvenience was too gr.eat. Material discomforts, heartaches, and disappoint-ments were all accepted in the spirit of her original, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord. Be it done unto me according to thy word~" Detached even from success, she had but one desire--to .do. the will of God. Nothing else. mattered. .~. :-,.We must- possess, the .same attitude. W.e. possess Chr.ist.The world .needs Christ. We must give Christ to,.the world. Beca.use we are Christians, we must not rest until society is Christian, .until all those who are looking for Christ have found Him. This will not be easy. World-changing is an expensive voca-tion. It demandstime, ~energy, and sacrifice. Often it means disap-pointment and fatigue, .But it is worth it. These things must.be accepted in Mary's spirit. She did not withdraw her commitment; retract her fiat. Neither must we. . . . The spirit of sacrifice which carried her,up. Calvary'sslopes is t.he same which ought to dominate our lives and make us always available when others are in need. The indifference to human recog-nition which carried Mary to Bethlehem and Egypt will .make us personable and kindly .even with those who .do not. seem to deserve such-treatment. The acceptance of God's will which filled her soul when she watched her neighbors reject Jesus will detach" us from suc~ cess, from" a craving for immediate results. "In ev.ery.way~ she is the model of tbose'.who desire to bear Christ to th~ world. - She possessed all the virtues of. the apostolic life in their fullness. The first of these is alertness--to the voice of God, to.the needs of others. The depths of Maryfs soul were ever wrapped in the divine presence, but the surface of her soul was keenly a.war_e of the desires and needs of those around her. At the marriage 139 ELLWOOD E. KIESER Reoieto for Religious least'of Cana, she quickly sensed the awkward position of her hosts. She felt their need and so went to Jesus that He might help them. She was always.in the right, place at the right time, on the spot when needed. On Calvary, at the crisis of His life, when His redemp-tive activity reached its fruition, Jesu~ wanted Mary nearby. She was there--to be proclaimed the mother of the Mystical Christ. The apostolic spirit is always marked by this alertness. The apostle has a great mission. He must look for opportunities to ful-fill it. This means tact and patience and instant response to the needs of others. It mean~ a constant search for those apostolic occasions --for the substitution of love for hatred, truth for error, decency for indecency. The apostle, like Mary, must be in the right place at the right time, with the needed word or deed. "Optimism is another apostolic virtue which Mary possessed in its plenitudi. Hers was not a superficial rose-tinting, but the pene-tration of reality to its depths, beneath its surface evil to its basic goodness. Mary knew that her mission would be fulfilled, that victory would be hers. God had told the serpent, "I will establish a feud.between thee'andthe woman, between thy offspring and hers; she is to crush thy heat1, while thou doth lie in wait at her heal." This optimism does not exclude suffering. But it does trans-form and give meaning to suffering. Mary's anguish on Calvary can hardly be exaggerated. And yet, amid it all," she knew that this death marked the beginning of a new life for her Son-~His mystical reign in the:souls of men. For~this reason, she could rejoice even on Calvary. The modern apostle should be permeated by the same spirit. His is a joyous life, for he possesses Christ. When met with trying situations, with seeming failure, he can say with that other apostle, "I can do all things in Him who strengthens me." Assured that the truth will out, that the gates of hell shall not prevail, he sings the magnificat with Mary. Victory will be his. But I('Iary has still another lesson to teach the modern apostle. She did not try to do extraordinary things. She took the ordinary; trivial duties of everyday life and made them the raw material for perfect sanctity. How did she do it? By performing these' little actions with great love, with a love which invested these insignificant things with momentous importance. This is the way she ~hanged the worldl. Her impact on history cannot be overestimated. Henry Adams calls her, "The. highest en-ergy ever known to man, the creator of four-fifths of his noblest art, 140 May, 1956 COMMUNITY CROSSES exercising vastly more attraction over the human mind than all the steam engines and dynamos ever dreamed of." He who is mighty has done great things through Mary. He will do the same for us. God does not want us to change our way of life. He wants us to sanctify it.He may not want us to take on additional duties. What He does want is the performance of those duties in the most Christlike way possible. There are plenty of op-portunities for Christbearing, for world-changing" in every walk of life, in every moment of the day and night. By seizing these occa-sions, by doing our job with great love for God and our fellow men, we will sanctify ourselves. We will change the world. It is trite to say that the world is in a frightful mess. But it is true. Men are unhappy as they have seldom been. Two billion peo-ple brood over atomic warfare. Children commit crimes shocking in adults. We grope for a solution, for a means of changing the world. And the solution, the means is given to us. When Christ's vicar on earth declared 1954 a Marian year, a year of special devotion to the Mother of God, he told ug to. go to her, that she might "bend tenderly over our aching wounds, convert the wicked, dry the tears of the afflicted and oppressed, comfort the poor and humble~ quench hatreds, .sweeten harshness, protect the holy Church, make all men feel the attraction of Christian goodness." Though the Marian year is over, Mary's influence has not come to an end. To the apostle, to all those who want to change the world for Christ, she offers strength, .guidance, and love. If we go to her, she~will-form Christ in our souls, that we might make Him incarnate in history. If we study her life, we will find the living blueprint which must become our own. She did what we are try-ing to do. We must walk in bet footsteps. Communit:y Crosses Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. ONE of St. Bonaventure's helpful "Twenty-five Maxims" is as follows: "Bear all the persecutions of this world for the love of God, with great equanimity of mind; nay, more, accepting in desire all such persecutions were it possible, rejoice only in the sufferings of Christ. Refusing. the joys of this life, make merry in tribulations and be convinced that their purpose is to purify your soul from sin and to enrich it with merit." In this article I am not going to consider the big c~osses that a 141 WINFRID HERBST Reoieu; [or Religious community may have, those of which it seeks,, sometimes in vain, to rid itself because self:preservation is the first law of nature; for, according to the dictum of St. Thomas, every being resists as much as it can what tends to corrupt it. I am merely going to touch upon some of the numerous little crosses that are encountered in the religious life. They make up in number what they lack in size, and it is terrific how they can get on one's nerves. To make merry in these tribulations and to en-. dure them for the love of God, to be more like Christ in His suffer-ings, is indeed an endless source of merit. "Their purpose is to purify your soul from sin and to enrich it with merit," says St. Bonaventure. The crosses I have in mind have their roots in diversities of character. I might call them peculiarities, certain characteristics that one has and another has not.-Generally they are in themselves trifles, little things like the flies of the fourth plague, that finally began to breakthe v~ill of Pharao, as we read in the eighth ch~ipter of Exodus: "And there came a very grievous swarm of flies into the houses of Pharao and of his servants, and into all the land of Egypt: and the land was corrupted by this kind of flies.'" .These bothersome' little things certainly do put one's patience to the test in community life. Often enough one would be justified in, losing his equanimity in the midst of them. As one religious confided to another: "Yes; he is a saint and everybody, admits it; but he is getting to be such a strain on my nerves, that I. cannot stand it much longer!" If one has the saving sense of humor, it is amusingto recall how one aspirant left the religious life because a table companion was so utterly lacking in good manners; another, could hardly endure, it any longer because there was such a slamming of doors all over the pla.ce; and a third became all excited because doors and windows were left 9pen everywhere. One prays in a tone that is much too high; another, in a tone that is much too low. One prays too fast; another, too slow. One talks too much;.anqther,.too little. One laughs too much, too long, and too loud; another is. grim and morose and apparently sunk in the slough of despon.dengy. One is sensitive to a degree tQ ev.erytbing around him; another is so.hardened that be.hardly knows wheat is going on around him,but unconcernedly pursues his way. But let this indication suffice.A complete enumer~. ation, were it possi'ble,: would take too long. Each rFader will have little difficulty in adding to this list peculiarities that he finds in 142 May, 1956 COMMUNITY. CROSSES himself and in others. How should one react to this situation? In the expressive phrase of the day, so what? Well, to all such complaints the answer could be given that these are things from which no man can be entirely free. This is not saying that nothing can be done about it. In the first place e~eryone should honestly examine himself. Those who may or should do so might call the matter to the attention of the thotightless one. But this is not an easy thing to do. For some reason or other, it is easier to call another's attention to a big blunder than to get oneself tocall his attention to some little fault of his. One hesitates to do so; and, meanwhile, the community will have to bear the cross. The best thing is for the educators to take the young people in hand, while they are still pliable and can take it, and get them onto the beaten path. This is. not saying, however, that the educators are always to blame when some of the.ir onetime students give evidence of a lack of. consideration for others. It seems that even stainless steel will rust if for a long time no atten-tion is given to it. So what? Quid ergo? 3ust be patient! Not much consolation, to be sure, but actually the only thing to do. Take the divine Savior Himself; see how He had to bear with the imperfections of those around Him. "What are you arguing about .among your-selves? . . . How long shall I put up with you?" (Mark~ 9:15, 18.) We simply must ,accustom ourselves to bear with equanimity the manifold imperfections of others, to tolerate their ways, even when they are diametrically opposed to our own views and wishes. Cer-tainly no one would venture to look upon himself as a model in these things, for the simple reason that no one is absolutely perfect. In Psalm 90 we read: "You shall tread upon the asp and the viper, you shall trample under foot the lion and the dragon," and we stumble over pebbles and get all excited over little peccadilloes! In this connection a "good resolution might be: to tread manfully upon the asp of peculiarities, the viper of abnormalities, the lion of idio-syncrasies, and the dragon of eccentricities. Plenty of them can be found in religious communities. St[ Paul tells us what to do: "Bear one another's burdens, and so you will fulfill the law of Christ. For if anyone thinks himself to be something, whereas he is noth-ing, he deceives himself. But let everyone test his own work, and so he will. have glory in himself only, and not in comparison with another. For each one will bear his own burden" (Gal[ 6:2-5). There are some zealous souls who think that the superior can 143 WINFRID HERBST without more ado, and as a matter of duty must, eliminate all the things that I am calling community crosses. But that is not at all as easy as one might think; moreover, it is often difficult to say who is r!ght. All of us are Wont glibly to say: "'Virtus star in medio.'" But just where is virtue's golden mean to be found~ab, there's the rub! How often we are taken in, cunningly deceived, by our own self-love and our own big or little weaknesses; and we complain about our brethren, and about our surroundings, and almost about Almighty God Himself, when in all truth we should be complain-ing about our own sensitiveness. Quite in place, then, is the ad-monition of the Imitation of Christ: "Try to bear patiently with the defects and infimities of others, whatever they may be, because you also have many a fault which others must endure. If you can-not make yourself what you would wish to be, how can you bend others to your will? We want others to be perfect, yet we do not correct our own faults. We wish them to be severely corrected, yet we will not correct ourselves. Their great liberty displeases us, yet we would not be denied what we ask. We would have them bound by laws, yet we will allow ourselves to be restrained in nothing. Hence, it is clear how seldom we think of others as we do of our-selves. If all were perfect, what should we have to suffer from others for God's sake?" (Bk. I, Ch. 16.) I think it sometimes happens that a religious runs to the superior to complain about these community crosses and, while doing so, mentions apologetically that, of course, they are just little things. If they are just little things, why not practice mortification by en-during them! And if the superior would rebuke for his own faults the complainant and measure the reprimand as he is asked to measure it out to others, what an uproar there would be! Here I cannot help thinking of these words which the ordaining bishop addresses to the clergy and the people with reference to the deacons about to be or-dained to the priesthood: "If anyone has anything against them, before God and for the sake of God let him confidently come for-ward and speak. However, let him be mindful of his condition." Many a complaint we would never make, were we mindful of our own pitiable failings and more concerned about what we our-selves ought to do in order not to lose face in that tremendous day of dread and day of judgment, when we stand before that all-just 3udge who once, as the all-merciful Savior, spokethe words: "Let him who is without sin among you be the first to cast a stone at her" (3obn 8:7). 144 Devot:ion t:o t:he Sac ;ed I-lead: C. A. Herbst, S.J. DEVOTION to the Sacred Heart is one of the great devotions in the Church. It is most characteristic of Christianity, be-cause it is devotion to Christ, to the whole Christ, represented by the most important organ of His humanity, His heart, which symbolizes His greatest virtue, His love. One can hardly conceive a devotion more proper to.religious whose very purpose is to make their lives as conformed as possible to Christ's through the practice of charity. That it is most fitting for religious to practice the devo-tion appears also from the fact that .our Lord complained expressly and specifically that it is religious who treat Him in shabby fashion, "hearts consecrated to me that treat me thus," that is, with ir-reverence and contempt. 'God became man, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity as-sumed a human nature, so that "we may be made partakers of His divinity, who vouchsafed to become partaker of our humanity," as we pray every day at the Offertory of the Mass. He wanted to be-come one of our human family so that we might with confidence draw close to Him. So in the many devotions to the sacred humanity of Christ which have naturally grown up as a result of the Incarnation there is a certain familiarity, though it be tempered with reverence. "There is a certain boldness of approach, a certain freedom of human lan-guage, a certain deeply reverential familiarity, yet still familiarity,, which distinguishes devotions to the Sacred Humanity. We have a distinct picture of the object of our worship in our minds which affects both our language and our feeling. Our Lord's assumption of our nature is a peculiar approach to us, to which we on our side have to correspond, and we correspond by this familiarity." (Faber, Bethlehem, ch. 4.) Since Christ is God, we offer His sacred humanity hypostatically united to the Word the same kind of worship we offer the Word Himself. This is divine worship, but of a kind "of which neither angels nor men could ever have dreamed without revelation, but which has been invented by God Himself." It has a character of its own, because based on created images and historical facts, and for this reason imprints on the soul a peculiar spiritual character with special force. The chief reason for which we worship Christ 145 C. A. HERBST Review for Religious in His mysteries "is the amount of the living spirit of Jesus which they both contain and communicate, contain in an inexhaustible measure and communicate according to the degree of our purity and fervor: and all holiness is but a transformation of us into the sub-stantial likeness of our Lord" (ibid.). We practice devotion to the various mysteries of Christ's life in order that we may come to know Him better arid love Him more. For the same reason we practice devotion to His sacred wounds, which place before our eyes His external sufferings, and to the Sac-red Heart, which manifests to us His internal sufferings. Such prac-tices are very valuable and help us imbibe the spirit of Christ, put on His virtues, and become inflamed with His affections. When enshrined in the sacred liturgy of the Church they have "no other object than that of acquiring this [true Christian] spirit from its foremost and indispensable fount, which is the active participation in the most holy mysteries and in the public and solemn prayer of the Cbu'r~h" (St. Pius'X, Motu Proprio, Nov. 22, 1903). Devotion to the Sacred Heart is one Of the last and most power-ful means God has given to save and sanctify men. "This devotion is a last effort df His love to save men in these latter days of His loving redemption" (St. Margaret Mary, Letter 133). In one of His apparitions to St. Margaret Mary, Christ said: "My divine Heart is so~ififlamed with love of men . . . that, being unable any longer to contain within Itself the flames of Its burning charity, It must.needs spread-them abroad . and manifest Itself to them [man-kind] in order to enrich them. with the precious treasures . . . which contain graces of sanctification and salvation necessary to withdraw them from the abyss of perdition" (Autobiography, no. 53). "He showed me that the ardent desire He bad of being loved by men and of drawing them from the path of perdition into which Satan was hurrying them in crowds, had caused Him to fix upon this plan of manifesting His Heart to men, together with all Its treasures of love, mercy, grace, sanctification and salvation. This He did in order that those who were willing to do all in their pov~er to render and procure for Him honor, love, and glory might be enriched abund-antly, even profusely, with these divine treasur'es of the Heart of God. It is the source of them all., It must 'be honored under the symbol of this Heart of flesh." (Herbst, The Letters of St. Mar-garet Mar~I Alacoque, 133.) "It must be honored under the symbol of this Heart of flesh." The heart of the God-Man, the ,heart formed by' His mother; the 146 May,. 19.56 DEVOTION TO THE sAcRED HEART "Heart of God," is the. material object of devotion to the Sacred Heart. ""Behold this Heart," our Lord said in the l~ist greag revela-tion He made to St. Margaret Mary. It is a physical heart, wounded and suffering. "After that I saw this divine Heart as on a throne of flames, more brilliant than the sun and transparent as crystal. It had its adorable wound and was encircled with a crown of thorns, which signified the pricks our sins caused Him. It .was sur-mounted by a-cross which signified that, from the first moment of His Incarnation, that is, from the time this Sacred Heart was formed, the cross was planted in It" (Letter ,133). He asked her for her heart "and placed it in His own adorable Heart" (Autobt'ography. no. 53). Of course we do not honor and adore the Sacred Heart of Christ as separated from His divine person. It is an essential part, the center, of the .life of the God-Man. '.'Jesus Christ, my sweet Master, presented Himself to me, all, resplendent with glory; .His five Wounds shining like so many suns. Flames issue from ever~r pair" of His Sacred Humanity, especially from His adorable Bosom, which re-sembled an open furnace and disclosed to me His most loving and most amiable Heart, which was the living source of these-flames" (ibid., no. 55). On December 2-7,. 1673, feast,of St. John, whom pious tradition assumes to have rested his head on our Lord,'s~breast at the Last Supper, "He made me repose for a long time.upon His Sacred Breast, where He disclosed to me the marvels.,.of His love and-the .inexplicable secrets of His .Sacred Heart, which so, .far He had concealed from., me. Then it was that, for the first time,. He opened to me His Divine Heart" (ibid:, no. 53). "~. .: The formal object of this devotion .is the love, of the Sadred Heart for men. "Behold this Heart, which, has loved, men so much, that It has spared, nothing, even to :exhausting and consuming Itself, in order to testify to them Its love'.' (ibid., no. 92): The heart is the natural symbol of love. -TO' it is attributed our love, our affections, Our interior dispositions. We are .said to love One with all our heart:, People are called, good-hearted or kind-hearted or great-hearted.'-We express tenderest affection when we.say: "I give you my heart." "My divine Heart," our. Lord said,. ".is so inflamed with lo.vef0r.men that it is.unable any longer to contain within Itself the flariaes of Its burning,charity.': He."disclosed to me His m6st loving and most ~miable Heart, which was the living source of these flames.It was-then, that He made~known to me the ineffable, marvels of his pure [love] and showed reel.to ,what-an 147 C. A. HERBST Reoiew [or Religious excess He had loved men" (ibid.; no. 55). This heart.is, presented to us as a heart that is wounded and bleed-ing and broken, a love that is unrequited, disregarded, spurned, re-ceived with ingratitude, and that even by religious. "And in return I receive from the greater number nothing but ingratitude by reason of their irreverence and sacrileges, and by the coldness and contempt which they show Me. in this Sacrament of Love. But what I feel the most keenly is that it is hearts which are consecrated to Me that treat Me thus" (ibid., no. 92). His heart, wounded, bleedir~g, encircled with thorns, surmounted with a cross, "was filled, from the'.very first moment, with all the bitterness, humiliation, poverty, sorrow, and contempt His sacred humanity would have to suffer during the whole course~of His life and during His holy Passion" (Letter 133). The natural appeal of a heart that is wounded and of a love that is unrequited is that we love it in return and make reparation to it. To this natural appeal our Lord adds an explicit request. He "showed me to what an excess He had loved men, from whom He received only ingratitude and contempt. 'I feel this more,' He said, 'than all that I suffered in My Passion. If only they would make-me some return for My love, I should think but little of all I have done for them and would wish, were it possible, to suffer still more. But the sole return they make for my eagerness to do them good is to reject Me and treat Me with coldness. Do thou at least console Me by supplying for their ingratitude, as far as thou are able" (Autobiography, no. 55). He asks that on a day espe-' cially set aside we honor His heart "by communicating on that day and making reparati6n to It by a solemn act, in order to make amends for the indignities which It has received during the time It has been exposed on the altars" (ibid., no. 92). Reparation is one of the most outstanding features in devotion to the Sacred Heart. St. Margaret Mary writes: "I think He will be very generous in granting you these [graces] if, by following the lights He gives you, you make reparation for the insults offered His adorable Heart" (Letter 14). Our Lord asks'for someone "who will most humbly ask pardon of God for all the offenses committed against Him in the Holy Sacrament of the altar" (Letter 50). The idea of reparation runs all through the new Mass and Office of the Sa~red Heart; and the Holy Father Pius XI, in.hisletter issued with them, says that "if this same Uncreated Love has either been passed over through forgetfulness or saddened by reason of our sins, then 148 May, 1956 DEVOTION TO THE SACRED HEART we should repair such outrages, no matter in what manner they have occurred . We are held to the duty of making reparation by ,the most powerful motives of justice and of love; of justice, in order to expiate the injury done God by our sins and to rfiestablish, by means of penance, the divine order which has been violated; and of love, in order to suffer together .with Christ, patient and covered ¯ with opprobrium, so that we may bring to Him, in so far as our human weakness permit~, some comfort in His sufferings." (Miser-antissimus Rederoptor, 1928). For this reason we have the feast of the Sacred Heart, the Communion Of reparation, the First Friday, the Holy Hour, even the Morning Offering. In the Act of Repar-ation prescribed for the feast of the Sacred Heart, we are "~eeking ¯ With special tribute ~f honor to atone for the sinful indifference of men and for the outrages heaped from every side upon Thy most Loving Heart." Consecration is important, too. In it "the intention to ex- Change for the love of the Creator the love of us creatures stands out most prominently" (Pius XI). The Holy Father Leo XIII ordered that an act of consecration especially written for the occa-sion be read in all the churches in the world on June I1, 1899. The substance of this consecration, ordered again by Pius XI in 1925 to be recited by all on the feast of Christ the King each year, is contained in the words: "We are Thine, and Thine we wish to be; but, to be more surely united with Thee, behold each one of us freely consecrates himself today to Why most Sacred Heart." This is an ot~icial expression of St. Margaret Mary's "I give and consecrate to the Sacred Heart of Our Lord Jesus Christ my per-son and my life, my actions, trials and sufferings," and of Blessed Claude Colombiere's "I give myself entirely to Thee, and henceforth I protest .most sincerely that I desire to forget myself and all that re-lates to me." All the elements of devotion to the Sacred Heart are wonder-fully' summed up in the prayer of the feast in June. "O God, Who dost deign mercifully to bestow upon us infinite treasures of love in the Heart of Thy Son, which was wounded for our sins; grant, we beseech Thee, that we who pay Him the devout homage of our piety, may in like manner show unto Thee our due of worthy satis-faction." It is to the looe for us of the human heart of Jesus wounded for sin that we want to render homage by consecration and make reparation. 149 C. A. HERBST : .': "Re~eu~ for Religious BIBLIOGRAPHY . Note. Thig'is a short, simple bibliography giving a few books written in English from which one can get a g6od, authentic knowledge of de;cot;on to the Sacred Heart. A brief description and app?eciation of each book is given. Autobiogr'alJh~ . Life of Saint Margaret Mar~ Alacoque. Trans-lation of the Authentic French Text by the Sisters of the Visitation. Roselands, Waimer, Kent. Visitation Library. 1952. Hei'der Co., St. Louis. This is an account of her own interior life ~ri~.ten by St. Margaret Mary under obedience about five years before her deash. It contains the great revelations the Sacred Heart made to' her. It is a small book of about 125 pag~ and the most authentic source of the devotion to the Sacred Hear~. He~bst, Clarence A., S.J. (Ed.) The Letters of Saint Margaret MaGI Alacoque. Translated from the French. With an Introduc-tory Essa~ by J. J. Doyle, S.J. Henry Regnery Company, Chicago. 1954. Next to the Autobiograph~t, this is a most authentic source of devotion t6 the Sacred Heart and supplements the Autobfographt.t. There are 142 letters, the most predominant ideas in them being fervent devotedness" to the Sacred Heart and an enthusiastic love of suffering for Him. Letters 130-139 were written to Father Croiset and form the basis for the book bt~ published on devotion to the Sacred Heart immediately after her death. C~oiset, John, S.J. The Deootion to the Sacred Heart of Our Lord Jesus Christ. The Newman Press, Westminster, Md. 1948. This work is based on the letters mentioned above. F~lther Croiset deliberately waited until after the death of St. Margaret Mary to publish his book s0"that h~ could preface it with.a life of her. This life covers some forty pages. After that are explained the disposi-tions and means necessary to acquire the devotion and the obstacles and means to overcome them. Then come motives, and practices for every yeaL month, week, day, and even hour.: The intimate connection betweefi devotion to the Sacred He~l~t"iafid th.e)Hol~r Eucbakist is~ brought out by explaining how to visitS:the Blessed Sacrain~nt,.he'ar M'~iss, and receive Holy Commuhion. MeditatiiJns for Friday "are given. In an appendix are given the complete prayers of St. Margaret Mary and others prayers to the Sacred Hefirt: Gall;fief; .3oseph d~, S.J; The 7~dor~ble Heart of Jesus. "With Preface and'Iiii~roduc'tion by.:Father Richard" Clarke; S.f." Burns and Oates, London. 1887. Father Gall;fret was a spiritual son of 150 May, 1956 DEVOTION TO THE SACRED I-IEART Blessed Claude de la Colombiere, the director of St. Margaret Mary. He wrote this book only thirty-six years after her death and spent his life in promoting devotion to" the Sacred Heart and working for the establishment of a feast in its honor. He explai'ns the origin, progress, and nature of the devotion ~and the excellence of its object and end. He goes on to the interior and exterior workshop of the Sa.cred Heart and to the devotion, feasts, office, and pictures of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary together. He is a theologian of the Sacred Heart. Bainvel, J. V., S.J.Devotion to the Sacred Heart. The Doctrine and Its History. Translated from the Fifth French Edition by E. Leahy. Edited by Reverend George O'Neill, S.J., M.A. Burns Oates and Washbourne, Ltd., London. 1924. This is a classi-cal exposition of the devotion to the Sacred Heart, written by a learned scholar and theologian. He ~first )resentg the devotion as revealed by the Sacred Heart in the great apparitidn.s to St. Margaret Mary, then explains the practices, spirit, and promises: There fol-low. doctrinal explanations on the meaning and object of the de-votion, its historical, dogmatic, and philosophical foundations, and on love as its speciaI act. Its historical development from the be-ginnings through the middle ages to early modern times is given, and the new impetus given by St. Margaret Mary. For the most recent and crowning glory given the devotion by the Holy Father Pius XI we go to a more recent book. McGratty. Arthur R., S.J. The Sacred Heart Yesterday and Today. Benziger. Chicago. 1951. This is the more receht book, written by the national director of the Apostleship of Prayer. It gives the nature of the dbvotion and its bistory tbrou~b tbe Re-formation. After a chapter on St. John Eudes; it explains the de-votion as given to St. Margaret 'Mary in the great app.aritions, Blessed Claude de la Colombiere's connection with it, and the Sac-red Heart Badge. After the defeat of Jansenism and the nineteenth-century advance, we come to the times of Leo XIII and Plus X[ when the whole world is consecrated to the Sacred Hoart and de- ;;;Orion to ti4e Sacred He'art has become the world'~ d'~votidn. At the. end of the book is a select bibliography which wiilriehly sup-plement the meager one given here. 151 For Your Informal:ion Shadowbrook Fire Three priests and a lay brother died in a fire which destroyed Shadowbrook, the 3esuit novitiate and juniorate at Lenox, Mass., in the early morning of March i0. The victims were Fathers Stephen A. Mulcahy, Henry B. Muollo, Arthur B. Tribble, and Brother Henry A. Perry. Among six who were hospitalized with burns and other injuries was Father 3ohn R. Post, master of novices and one of our consistent contributors. The more than one hundred novices and juniors have since been "adopted" temporarily by the Jesuit novitiates in neighboring provinces. Plans for a new Shadowbrook are already under way. Revised Hospital Directives A second, and revised, edition of Ethical and Religious Directioes for Catholic Hospitals was recently published by the Catholic Hos-pital Association of the United States and Canada. The revision in-cludes not only clarification of a few somewhat obscure provisions of the first edition but also new matter concerning professional sec-recy, experimentation, ghost surgery, psychotherapy, shock-therapy, unnecessary procedures, and the spiritual care of non-Catholics. An appendix contains abundant reference material, with apt references to recent statements of the Holy See. There is also a detailed alpha-betical index. An especially useful aspect of the revised edition is that the individual directives are numbered consecutively, thus fa-cilitating reference to the booklet. The price per copy is 25 cents; quantity prices are available. A set of six booklets, including the Directioes and five small volumes of Medico-Moral Problems by Gerald Kelly, S.J., can be obtained for $2.50. Order from: The Catholic Hospital Association, 1438 South Grand Blvd., St. Louis 4, ¯ Missouri. Franciscan Poems The Franciscan Institute, St. Bonaventure, N. Y., has just pub-lished Where Caius Is, a small book of poems by Sister Mary Francis, P.C., who wrote the article on St. Thomas Aquinas, "The Silence and the Song," published in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1955. Sister Mary Francis has also published two plays, Counted as Mine and Candle in Umbria, and a smaller book of poems entitled Whom I Have Loved. The new book (Where Caius Is) may be obtained From the Franciscan Institute or from: Rev. Mother M. Immaculata, P.C., Poor Clare Monastery of O.L. of Guadalupe, Route 1, Box 152 FOR YOUR INFORMATION 285-C, Roswell, New Mexico. Price: $1.75. Vocation Insfifutes The tenth annual Vocation Institute will be held at the Uni-versity of Notre Dame, July 12-15. For information, write .to: Rev. John J. Doherty, C.S.C., the Vocation Instituge, Notre Dame, Indiana. On July 25-26, the sixth annual Institute on Religious and Sacerdotal Vocations will be held on the campus of Fordham Uni-versity. Priests, religious, and laity are invited to attend. A special week-long workshop for mistresses of novices is also planned. Ad-dress all communications to: Rev. John F. Gilson, S.J., Fordham University, New York 58, N. Y. Summer Sessions Special courses in the sacred sciences will be offered for religious this summer at St. Bonaventure University. These courses (includ-ing dogma, moral theology, liturgy, ascetics, Sacred Scripture, etc.) will be designed to assist the teacher of religion on the college, high-school, and grade-school level. A course in canon law for religious superiors and directors of religious vocations will include the teach-ing of the Church regarding the reception and profession of religious, the government of religious communities, privileges and obligations of religious. Sisters of Franciscan communities will have the oppor-tunity of taking classes in Franciscan theology and spirituality. Registration will be on June 30. All graduate courses lead to the master's degree. Those who are not qualified for degrees may ob-tain a certificate in theolbgy provided they fulfill the other require-ments. For additional information, write to: Director of Summer School of Theology, St. Bonaventure, N. Y. In its summer session of June 18-July 27, St. Louis University will pioneer in the United States in presenting Kerygmatic Theology as academic courses. Father J. Hofinger, S.J., a noted lecturer in this "new" theology, will teach tWO classes (both 3 credit-hour courses), one on basic doctrine, the other on method and discussion. Other standard religion courses will also be offered. For further informa-tion on this and other summer sessions, write to: Director of the Summer Sessions, St. Louis Uniyersity, St. Louis 3, Missouri. The Creighton University continues with its cycle of graduate-level courses in theology for religious. The offerings this summer include courses on the Incarnation and Redemption, on the New Testament and St. Paul, on principles of moral guidance, and on 153 FOR YOUR INFORMATION Review for Religious fundamental theology. Six h6urs of advanced nursing will be available. Besides these and the standard summer-session courses, there will be many workshops. For the workshop on liturgical music in conjunction with Boys Town, see below. Creight6n'~s summer faculty includes several religious as guest lecturers: from the Bene-dictines, Dominicans, Franciscans, Sisters of Charity of the B.V.M., Sisters of the Humility of Mary, and the Servants of Mary. For a complete list of the workshops and for other information, write to: Director of the Summer Session, Creighton University, Omaha 2, Nebraska. Boys Town will hold its fourth annual workshop in liturgical music, under the director of inusic, Father Francis P. Schmitt. The dates are August 20-31, inclusive. This two-week workshop will include a survey of liturgy and liturgical music, reading and per-formance of materials and chant, polyphonic and modern liturgical music. Rich library facilities and extensive consultant service will be provided. Boys Town conducts this workshop in conjunction with the Creighton University, thus offering an opportunity to quali-fied persons to earn three college credits. Address all inquiries to: Rev. Francis P. Schmitt, Director of Music, Boys Town, Nebraska. A summer school in theology for religious will be;held at the University of Ottawa, July 2--August 7. Courses this year will be on the Triune God, the sacraments, creation and providence, and the Christian virtues. For detailed information, write to: Director of the Summer Scho61, University of Ottawa, Ottawa 2, Canada. The Institute of Theology for Religious Wc~men, offered in co-operation with the. Dominican Fathers, will be held in Immaculata College, Iha~actilata, Pennsylvania, June 27--TAugust 8. A pro-gram of four summer sessions" leads to a certificate in Thomistic Theology, Sacred Scripture, and Canon Law. The presqribed courses in the realm 6f'sacred sciences furnish an excellent background for religious teache~[ " Summer of 1956--the first and ~econd year pro-grams will beoffered.Residence facilities will be available. For further information address: The Director of Summ~'r Session, Im-macfilata Col.lege, Immaculata, Pennsylvania. MidnigM" Mass on Christmas in Religious and P!ous. Houses Can. 821, § 3, ~eads: "But in all religious houses and pious homes,"if "they have an oratory with the right of ~habitual reserva-tion. of the Most Blessed~Eucharist, on Christmas.night one priest may celebrate"the:three Masses of the liturgy.or,, observing the usual 154 Ma~!, 1956 FOR YOUR .|NFORMATION regulations, a single Mass, at which all present can satisfy their obligation of hearing .Mass, and at which the priest may distribute Holy Communion to those who request it." 1. Admitted interpretation in the past. The privilegeof having such Masses is granted by the Code of Canon Law, and no further permission of ecclesiastical authority is required for its use; The privilege extends to all religious houses, formal or non-formal, of any religious institute, whether an order or a congregation, exempt or non-exempt, clerical or lay, pontifical or diocesan, of men or women, and likewise to all houses of societies living in common without public vows and to those of secular institutes. The privi-lege applies equally to all piou~ homes. These areinstitutions de-voted to pious works, especially of mercy and charity, e.g., hospitals, orphanages, homes for the aged, schools, seminaries. Prisons are also included, since the chaplain devotes himself to ~he reform and rehabilitation of the inmates. It is not necessary that these insti-tutions be directed by or depend strictly on ecclesiastical authority nor that they be in the care of religious. The oratory of habitual reservation of the Blessed Sacrament may be semipublic or public. One, two, or three Masses may be celebrated, but by the one priest. Mass may be begun at any time after, but not before, midnight. 2. PractiCal poir~t that was doubtful in the past. On Novem-o bet 26, 1908, the Sacred Congregation of the Holy Office declared that it was not permitted to celebrate such Masses "with the doors of the oratory open." This restriction was not included in can. 821~ ~ 3, and both canonists and moralists have disagreed as to whether the restridtion remained in force after the Code of Canon Law became effective on May 19, 1918. The restriction forbade the admission (;f .tb.e general public but not of a small number of externs nor of invited guests. :.:. 3. Autboritatit~e solution of the doubt. An. apostolic nuncio submitted, the.following q.uestion-to the Pontifical Commission for. the Interpretation of the Code of Canon Law: "After the promul-gation of the CodeofCanon Law, does the declaration .of the Holy OffiCe ~f November. 26, -1908, " .oncerning the first question [cele-. brating with,the doors, open] remain .always .valid with regard to. the use of the faculty authorized by can. 821, § 3;. and if in the. ~ffirmative~ does this imply, the exclusion, of externs from,assistance at: the midnight .Mass bn Christmas?.': His. Eminerice~. th~:;late.Car-. 155 QUESTIONS AND'ANSWERS Review for Religious dinal Massimo Massimi, then president of the Commission, gave the following interpretation on March 5, 1954, Prot. N. 1/54: "One cannot see how it can be maintained that in the sacred func-" tions of which the aforesaid canon speaks externs may not be ad-mitted and still less that the doors may not be kept open, since there is no trace of such a prohibition in this same canon which regulates the matter." This reply, although not as yet officially promulgated, is to be considered as authentic, general, and merely declarative of the sense of the canon, as is obvious from the words of the reply. There-fore, it is now certain that canon law places no restriction whatever on the admission of externs to the Masses in question. Cf. Ochoa, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 33 ( 1954), 329-52 ; Bergh, Nouvelle Reoue Tb~ologique, 77 (1955), 188-90; Revue des Communaut~s Religieuses, 27 (1955), 111-13; La Vie des Communaut~s Re-ligieuses, 13 (1955), 263-64. ( ues ions and Answers ml7-- Is the quinquennial Repod" fo the Holy See due in 19567 Father Ellis explained this report in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 8 (1949), 234-40; 10 (1951), 20-24. The following is a sum-mary of his articles. 1. Who must make this report in 19567 All congregations of brothers; all superiors general of religious institutes of women in all the countries of North, Central, and South America; and the higher superioresses of independent monasteries or houses of the same countries. The superioresses general of societies of common life, sec-ular institutes, and confederations throughout the world will dis-charge this obligatibn in 1957. 2.Lan. guage in which the report is to be ~vritten. Brothers and religious women may use the vernacular, that is, English, French, German, Italian, or Spanish. 3. May it be typed? The report should be typed if at all pos-sible. If written by hand, the handwriting must be clear and good ink used. Good bond paper, not too heavy, and not translucent should be used. 4. Merely number question. Merely put the number of the question before the answer; db not repeat the question before the 156 Maq, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS answer. 5.Method of a~swering. Answer the questions with a complete sentence, not with a mere "yes" or "no." . 6. Time of handing in. The report may be handed in any time .during 1956, but it should cover the five-year period from ! 9.51-55, inclusive. 7. Signing the report. The superior general and all the general councilors must sign the report. 8. To wbbm t's report sent? After it has been authenticated b~r the signature of the local ordinary of the mother house, the rep0rt is sent by pontifical institutes directly-to the Rev. Segretario, S.Con: gregazione dei Religiosi, Palazzo delIe Congregazioni, Piazza S. Cal-listo, Roma, Italia. All diocesan institutes and independent monas-terles and houses.are to send their report to the local ordinary of their motlqer house. When he has read it, he will add his comments and S~fid the report to the S. Congregation of Religious. If the diocesan congregation has houses in other dioceses, the local ordinary of the mother house must send copies of the report to these, local-ordinaries and, after receiving their comments, add them to his own before se.nding the report to the S. Congregation. " 9. Where ma~. copies of tbb"report be obtained? Copies may be o~Dined fo, r $1.50 from the Rev. Ar.chlvlsta, S. Congregazmne Rel!giosi, e.tc., as above in n. 8. The questions for pontifical insti-i: utds' are obtainable from this source in Latin, English, French, Ger-man, Italian, and Spanis.h; those for diocesan in'stitu'tes and inde-p~ endent monasteries' and houses only in Latin. 10. In what other sources can.the, r~;vort be found? T'he report for pontifical institutes is found in English in the REVIEW FOR RE-LIGIOUS, 9 (.1950), 52-56: 108-12; 166-68; 209-24; 269-79, and also in'B0uscaren, Canon Law Digest, III, 162-203. The re-port for diocesan institutes in English is found in Creusen, Religious Men and Women in the Code, 5th ed., 278-316, and in French in "La Vie des Communaut& Religieuses, .8. (1950), 257-88. The re-port for .independent monasteries.and houses in E.nglish is found in {he REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 13 (1954), 251-269, and in French in Revue des Communaut~s Retigieuses, 24 (1952), 3-16. --18- ,,We offer two Holy Communions for any deceased member of our In-stitute. However, Ihave been instructed more than once that no one can offer a Communion for ~no+her. Holy Communion as a suffrage for the. dead is a common and 157 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Re~iew ~or Religious ancient practice in religious institutes and also among the faithful in general. A Communion received for another does not effect grace in the other person ex opere operato. The intention in a Communion received as a suffrage for the dead is to obtain the deliverance of a soul from the pains of purgatory. The influence of Communion to this effect is ex opere operantis, by way of merit de congruo, im-petration,. and satisfaction, and also by the application of any in-dulgences attached to the Communion and applicable to the souls in purgatory. The fervor of prayer and its impetrhtory value are usually greater because of the reception of the Eucharist. The satisfactory value arises from the increase of divine charity effected by Communion and also because Communion contains the note of something diffi-cult and contrary to the inclination of nature. Since the union with God in Holy Communion is highly conducive to the increase of these values, it is evident that Holy Communion as a suffrage for the dead is a most commendable practice. Cf. Van Noort, De Sacra-mentis, I, n. 397; Doronzo, De Sacramentis, I, 733-35: Beraza, De Novissimis, n. 1268. Are exempf religious ob]iged ÷o say 7o Mass collecfs prescribed (ora-flones imperatae) by fhe local ordinary? All priests, diocesan or religious, even if exempt (S. R. C., 2613, ad 1; 3036, ad 5: can. 612), also if they are visiting priests and do not reside in the diocese, are obliged to say the orationes imperatae in any church or oratory, even private,, within the diocese in which it is prescribed. (Cf. J. O'Connell, The Celebration of Mass, 189; Hecht, Rubricae Generales Missalis, 48; Hebert, Lecons de Liturgie, II, 203.) The local ordinary may establish that the irnperata is to be omitted on more days than those stated in the rubrics. (S. R. C. Lauretana, December 14, 1927.) A pad he may also exempt places that are not exempted by the rubrics. If he has not expressly done either, these prayers are to be said according to the norms of the rubrics, which are given above with regard to person and place. While the obligation is clear, it is also a fact that at least very many priests find the orationes imperatae of prolonged duration highly monotonous, annoying, and a complicating factor in Mass. It is frequently stated by commentators that in the spirit o~ the General Decree on the Simplification of the Rubrics of March 23, 1955, orationes imperatae should now be prescribed less frequently and for lesser periods of time. A quick analysis of the general de-cree will reveal that a prolonged imperata is not in keeping With the 158 Ma~ , 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS evident purposes of the decree of decreasing ~omplications, reducing the number of prayers, of lessening monotony, and eliminating ex-traneous elements in both the Mass and the Divine Office. A prolonged oratio imperata pro re gravi also loses its nature of a special petition. 20 In our concjrecjafion no one makes a will. Aren't we oblicjed by canon law to make wills? This is a case of disturbed and even disturbing ignorance of canon law. A will is a disposition in whole or in part of the property that one will own at death by an act that is revocable until death and effective only at death. All novices in all congregations and also in monasteries of nuns of only simp.le vows, whether they actually own property or not, before their first profession and consequently in the last weeks (about the last month) of the noviceship, must make a will for all property that they then actually own and that they may own in the future. If for any reason the will was not made during the noviceship, it is to be made after first profession and as soon as possible. Those who made profession before the Code of Canon Law (May 19, 1918) are not obliged to make a will. At least .if they actually own property, they are to be most strongly urged to do so. The subject is perfectly free in the determination of the dis-positions of the will. Novices in orders (institutes of solemn vows) are not obliged to make a will, but they may do so. They also are to be strongly urged to make a will, at least if they actually own property and especially if the interval between the noviceship and solemn pro-fession is very long. A novice destined for only simple perpetual vows in an order should make a will. The will of novices destined for the solemn or an equivalent simple vow of poverty will be ef-fective only if they die before taking such a vow, since the solemn profession takes away all property rights. The will is to be made even if the novice does not actually own property, i. e., he is then to make the will only for property that he may acquire in the future. Even if they are under age and their wills are invalid by civil law, the novices are to make a will, which will oblige by canon law and in conscience. When they reach the requisite age, they are to make ,the will in a form that is civilly valid: but they are not to change the dispositions without the necessary permission. It is illicit but not invalid to change the dispositions of a will without the permission ordinarily of. the Holy See; but, if the case 159 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious is urgent and" there is no time for recourse to the Holy See, without the permission of a higher superior; and, if recourse cannot be made to a higher superior, without that.ofthe local superior. A novice made his temporary profession on August 18, 1953. May he make his perpetual profession on August IS, 19S6, when all the others of his group will be making their perpetual vows.'? If .he does, his perpetual profession, whether solemn or simple, will be .certainly and evidently invalid. Canon law demands three ,full years of temporary vows for the validity of any perpetual pro-fession.~ The time in this case expirep on the anniversary day (August 18, 1953-August 18,¯ 1956). The time in this and all of the fol-lowing cases is computed physically, mathematically, not morally. Therefore, if the perpetual profession in the preceding case is made on August 17 and only an hour or only a minute is lacking to August 18, the perpetual profession is certainly and evidently invalid. ¯ The. time is completed on the day" following in these cases, in all of which the duration is required for validity: the complete year required for the validity of the noviceship (August 1~4, 1955-August 15, 1956) ; 'the fifteen complete years of age required for the validity of the canonical year of no,ciceship (~August 14, 1941-August 15, 1956); the sixteen required for any temporary profession (August 14, 1940-August 15, 1956); the twenty-one for perpetual profes-sion, whether solemn or simple (August 14, 1935-August 15, 19~6) ; the forty required for a superior or superioress general and for a superioress of a monastery of nuns (August 14, 1916-August 15, 1956) ; the thirty for other higher superiors (August 14, 1926- August 15, 1956); the ten complete years from first profession re-quired for any higher superior (August 14, 1946-August 15, 1956). The following are computed in the same way as in the preced-ing paragraph but are required only for liceity: the postulancy (Feb-ruary 14, 1956-August 15, 1956) ; the thirty-five years of age usu-ally required by the constitutions for general officials and" demanded by the Code for'the master or mistress of novices (August 14, 1921- August 15, 1956); the thirty years commonly required by the con-stitutions for local superiors and demanded by the Code for the as-sistant master or mistress of novices (August 14, 1926- August 15., 1956); the ten years from first profession required by the Code for the master or mistress of novices (August 14, 1946-August 15, t956) and the five years also demanded by the Code for the assistant master or mistress of novices (August 14, 1951-August 15, 1956). 160 Mar , 195~ QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Unless the particular law of the institute states otherwise, a noviceship of two years is completed on the second anniversary (August 15, 1954-August. 15, 1956). The'same principle is true ofa noviceship of eighteen months. When the constitutions demand a greater duration than that required by the Code for validity, this added duration is prescribed only for liceity unless the constitutions certainly state that it is necessary for validity. This principle is true of a noviceship of eighteen months or two years, of temporary vows prescribed for four, five, or six years, of a greater age for the profes-sions, for the office of higher superior, or of added years of profession demanded for this same office~ For example, can. 504 requires that the provincial have completed his thirtieth year for the validity of his appointment or election. If the constitutions demand thirty-five years of age, the added five years are required only for liceity. Time is especially to be .watched with regard to the noviceship and temporary profession. The first canonical maxim of the novice-ship is that an invalid noviceship renders any subsequent profession invalid. The first canonical maxim of temporary profession is that a temporary profession of less than three full years renders the per-petual profession invalid. The first canonical maxim of all these cases of time is that time is computed physically, mathematically, not morally. A candidate appl!ed for our institute who had been born of a mixed marriacje and baptized a Catholic in'infancy. The Catholic parent died durincj his infancy, and he was then broucjht up ,~s an Episcopalian. lie was converted to the Catholic Church'at tfi~ ~.cje of fifteen. Is he af-~ fected by the impediment of, "those who have renounced the C;atholio faith and joined a non-C:atholie sect (c. 542; '1 o)?. An impediment is to be strictly interpreted, i. e., its extension is to be confined to the narrowest sense possible within the proper meaning of the wording of the law (c 19).'Therefore, those bap-tized as Catholics, whether their parents were Catholics or non- Catholics, but brought up from irlfar~cy in heresy, schism, infidelity, or without any religion and who were later converted to the Cath-olic Church are not included in this impediment of can. 542, 1", which demands that the subject have. knowi.~gt~ pro~fessed the Cath-

Issue 13.5 of the Review for Religious, 1954. ; Review for Religious SEPTEMBER 15, 1954 Study and the Spiritual Life . John R. Post The World Around Us . John H. Ziegler Pilgrims on theRoad to Love . George Byrne Secular Institutes . Francls N. Korfh Book Reviews Questions and Answers Quinquennial Report VOLUMI~ XIII NUMBER 5 RI::VII::W FOR RI:LI IOUS VOLUME XIII SEPTEMBER, 1954 NUMBER 5 CONTENTS BLENDING STUDY WITH THE SPIRITUAL LIFE--John R. Post, S.d. 225 OUR ADDRESSES . 233 THE WORLD AROUND US--John H. Ziegler, C.S.P . 234 COMMUNICATIONS . 239 FOR YOUR INFORMATION . 240 PILGRIMS ON THE ROAD TO LOVE--George Byrne, S.J .2.4.1 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 244 SECULAR INSTITUTES: SOME QUESTIONS--Francis N. Korth, S.2J.45 PAMPHLETS . , . . . 250 MARIAN YEAR PLAY . 250 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT (By Nonfederated Autonomous Houses and Monhsterles) . 251 REGIONAL CONFERENCES AND WORKSHOPS .2.6.9 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 26. Little Office during Mass . 270 27. Confession without Verbal Act of Contrition . 270 28. Drinking Water before Communion . 271 29. Confession before Communion . 271 30. Communion when Mortal Sin is Doubtful . 272 BOOK REVIEWS-- The N~w Testament; The Church and Infallibility; Mary in Our Life . 273 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 278 NOTICE FOR PUBLISHERS . 280 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1954. Vol. XIII, No. 5. Published bi-monthly : January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter ,lannary 15, 1942, at the Post Office, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. E!lard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, S.J. Copyright, 1954, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us. please consult notice on Inside back cover. / Blending St:udy wit:h t:he Spiri!:ual Lit:e John R. Post, S.J. MANY young religious who are preparing for the priesthood must spend eigh~ or ten years in the quiet of a seminary be-fore they are confronted with actual work for souls. During that time they look forward with great eagerness to a busy minis-try; but when it comes, it often comes with something of a shock to their interior life. Why is this? The answer seems to be that now for the first time they have had to face up to the age-old problem of blending the active with the contemplative life. A certain amount of shock from this problem is inevitable, as it is in every new ex-perience to be worked out by themselves; but some help can be given them to soften the shock if during their seminary days they are taught to solve another problem, or rather, the same problem on a smaller scale, namely, how to blend the life of study with the spir-itual life. One young student, for instance, finds himself in this frame of mifid: in the morning he offers up to God all his p~ayers, works (studies included), and sufferings, and then is content if during the day he can keep his life of study from interfering with his life of prayer. The most he asks is that study and prayer just keep running in parallel lanes like two runners on a track. Another sees the pursiait of knowledge as a help to perfection, and'so, being a sensible religious, he determines to make the two desires fuse or blend into one organic whole. With him the life of study and the life of prayer, while really distifict, penetrate and help each other just as the soul does the body. T, he second theory will be explained in this article, which, though tailored to suit the'cleric, can, it is hoped, with a tuck and a hem be made to fit the student sister and brother as well. As with the problem of the active ministry, sb too here, the so-lution lies in the interpenetration of motives. In the years of for-mation the young men must learn two things: first, to study their Latin and Greek, their philosophy and theology, with an earnest intention of progressing in the service of God; then, to pray with an ardent desire to advance in the studies in which they are engaged. For, although the time set aside for spiritual duties is generally dis- 225 JOHN R. POST Review for Religious tinct from that given to studies, still the service of God should be made the predominant and actual motive in both. The theory, then, can be summed up in two phrases of St. Ignatius: "Let [scho-lastics] strive to have a right intention in their studies".and. "in their prayers let them frequently beg for the grace of knowl-edge." That is the theory, but some eager student might ask: "How in practice would you go about preparing an assignment in G~:eek or theology and at the same time maintain this right intention? In other words, tell us how each particular branch of our studies can be made.to help our spiritual lives and how our spiritual lives can at the same time help our studies." This is a rather large order, but let me try to fill it. To begin with, then, in practice a man blends his studies with his spiritual life simply by choosing a virtuous intention to keep working in class or at his desk. Seize upon some honest motive or motives from the many that are available, let those motives draw your mind into the heart of the matter and keep it there, and they will turn that hour of class or study into an hour of obedience, of zeal for souls, or of any other virtue. Some motives, it is true, are higher and more meritorious than others; some are more effective in stimulating the desire to learn; but every intention, provided it be virtuous and supernatural, is a "right intention" in the sense in which spiritual writers use the expression. And this leads to the consideration of a most fundamental and essential virtue in the whole life of study--the virtue of studiositas. St. Thomas, who ought to know, defines studiositas, or zeal for knowledge, as a moral virtue which stimulates and controls a man's curiosity. According to him a student, to be a student at all, must be curious. He must come to his books hungry to learn, with a hun-dred questions in his mind begging to be answered. "How did Cicero and St. 3erome express a concessive clause in Latin? What is that slight difference in meaning between quarnquarn and quarnois? I wonder how this particular clause in English would look dressed up in perfect Latin idiom." And so on and so on. These are the questions real students of Latin ask themselves, ask their books and the teachers because they want to know. It is studiositas, then, that makes the life of sudy. Other higher and more supernatural motives may be used to elevate this virtue, but none can take its place. No one can be a student without it. St. Thomas Aquinas, who was 226 September, 1954 STUDY AND SPIRITUAL LIFE both saint and scholar, prayed God to keep this natural curiosity of his ever alive. "Grant, I beseech Thee, O merciful God, that I may ardently desire, prudently inquire, .truthfully understand and per-fectly fulfill what is pleasing to Thee." These last words of the saint give us a glimpse into his inner life and show us how he blended his life of studies with his spiritual life. "May I ardently desire . . . what is pleasing to Thee." Thomas Aquinas, prince and patron of all students, was first of all as curi-ous as ever a man could be, curious about Aristotle and Cicero, about the nature of man and the world about him. And he never lost his curiosity. His Summa Tbeotogica alone contains some 4,000 questions. Yet, his natural love for knowledge was con-trolled and intensified, not lessened, by his love for the will of God declared to him by his superiors. "May I ardently desire . . . what is pleasing to Thee," he says. Besides the motive of stddiositas, therefore, two other motives attracted him to his studies, the motives of obedience and 'of charity. He was curious first because he natu-rally loved the truth which he found in a book of Aristotle; and he became more curious because he knew that God wanted him to study this book of Aristotle; and most curious because he knew that he would please God by studying Aristotle. By these means, then, his study became triply fascinating to St. Thomas. Two high motives drawn from his spiritual life combined with a natural motive and all three blending together drew his mind to the study of one and the same work. So, the blending of which we speak is the blending of a supernatural desire, or desires, with the natural desire of studiositas. The motives of obedience and charity, which we have just toudhed upon, are, I suppose, the easiest for the average religious to manage throughout his course and at the same time the most meri-torious. Another which can blend with all branches of his study is the motive for zeal for souls. In all the studies which the Church has arranged with admirable foresight and wisdom, there is a verti-cal intention which looks up from the different subjects to be studied, rising step by step from the elements of Latin and Greek grammar right up to theology, and based on the following chain of reasoning: the better prepared I am in the,lower subjects, the better grasp will I also have of sacred doctrine and so be the better equipped to preach the word of God to others. This is one way of looking at the course and drawing from the apostolate at the top a greater attraction for all the studies which lead up to it. But, even on the lower levels-- 227 JOHN R. POST Ret~iew /'or Religious that is to say," while one is studying Latin and Greek and philosophy --there is room for a horizontal intention of putting this very matter to good use for souls. I mean the apostolate of the class-room. In teaching orders especially, in which a large percentage of each province is engaged in the work of education, superiors and students alike are forced to think of their houses of study as normal schools and of the time of studies as a period of training for future teachers and professors. The novice who is studying the different uses of the Greek dative should remind himself that he may be teaching that very same lesson one day in any one of the order's schools. Students of the humanities and of philosophy will be given greater motivation if they are told from time to time how many of their religious brethren are teaching those subjects in the colleges. Theologians know that every priest is teaching theology in one way or another, either in the classroom, or in the pulpit or in the confessional. Thus, the teaching vocation provides a specia! in-centive for applying oneself with greater vigor to that part of the course in which one is now engaged. At this point I would like to pause and answer a question that must be bothering the reader as all these different motives (and we haven't come to the end of them yet) are being passed in review be-fore him. The quesion might be phrased as follows: How is it pos-sible to keep all these motives in mind at once? To increase in knowledge, to obey God, to please God, to teach others--how can one manage them psychologically? The answer is that is one is not obliged to use them all. To blend a life of study with the spiritual life, only two are required, the motive of studiositas and one other. But, if. others are used, only that of studiositas is to be kept in the front of the mind, while the others are lined up behind it as ulterior motives--just as in arranging a hand of cards you keep only one in the foreground in full view while all the others are held behind it peeking out a little over the edge. Does that mean that God will have to "take a back seat" to ablative absolutes or ens ut sic? Yes, at least while one is studying ablative absolutes or ens ut sic. Or, to put it another way, God Himself tells you to study and.by so doing He "takes a back seat" for Himself, always continuing, however, to occupy the first place in your heart. Study of the Humanities The study of the humanities presents its own peculiar motive to the religious who is engaged in it, a motive which, if employed with 228 September, 1954 STUDY ~.ND SPIRITUAL LIFE care and discretion, can give to his spiritual life a greater depth and breadth than it ever bad before. This motive is found in the word humanitas, for, as I see it, the purpose .of all classical studies in Latin, Greek, and English is to increase and intensify ar sense of kin-ship between the student and all the other members of the human family. Thus, with his symiJathetic understanding broadened and deepened and his sensibilities more refined, he can more easily respond to motives of faith which teach him to love all men in Christ and for Christ. As is~ clear from looking at ourselves, not all men are saints. The exercises of the novitiate may lead religious to expect too much of their fellow men. From reading the, lives of the saints and the ways of reaching sanctity they can acquire a partial, not a total view of life. Spiritual theology is likely to idealize and adorn too much. Philosophy, on the other hand, strips life of its warmth and color. History and literature, correcting the other two views, show us human beings as they are. They show us man as the "noble, lawless savage" that Newman speaks of, "whose morals find interests are disfigured and perverted by all the imperfections of passion, 'folly and ambition." So, we must not expect from litera-ture any more than it in'tends to teach us, or any more than we can reasonably expect to find in nature itself, whose mirror it aims to be, and certainly we must not expect to find in it a guide to (he highest sanctity. We have that in Christ and in the Church. "It is the business of art and literature," as Fleckner says, "not to save men's souls, but to make them more worth the saving." The most literature intends to teach us, then, is that human nature with all its faults is very lovable in itself. Then, after viewing its faults through the medium of literature, we ourselves can reason to the great need nature always had, and still has, for the redeeming grace of Jesus Christ. Outside the monastery walls, for instance, it is a very human thing for a young man to fail in love. Men are like that. And so Shakespeare enters into the heart of one of them and gives us his Romeo in all the pangs of love-sickness, saying: "See how she leans her cheek upon that hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That l might touch that cbeek t."" That hand, he says, and that cheek, as if there were no others in 229 JOHN R. POST Review [or Religious the world. But, there are no others for Romeo. Isn't that ~he way lovers act? Isn't it human for young men to "moon" that way. Shakespeare has caught this universal trait, loved it, and invited us to love it too. It is also very human for men who have done great things for their country to take compl~acency in it, and so we sense something of our own humanity in every speech of Cicero as he struts across the floor of the Senate letting men know how lucky they are to have him as consul. Yet, boastful as Cicero is, his love for his friends and his family, his loyalty to Rome and hatred for all corruption give us an example of a very noble Roman. Achilles, the greatest warrior of them all, pouts in his tent before the walls of Troy when his prize is taken from him. Antigone has become for all time the personification of sisterly affection, just as Hecuba has of aged grief, and Aeneas of filial piety. Now, the Church thinks that it .will be good for the future priests to realize how many different kinds of souls it takes to make up the human race, and to know them and love them for what they are. We know from faith that they are lovable for a higher reason, but lit-erature teaches us that they are also lovable for the basic humanity that is in them, that image of God, warped and twisted by human passion in a way that is so much like our own. So, the special pur-pose put before the student of literature, and the one he should grasp and blend with the others, may be summed up in one phrase-- to love human beings. Motioes for Studying Philosophy The subject of philosophy, too, is not without its intrinsic motives which can be made to blend with the spiritual life. "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," says Hamlet: but, we might add, not many more. For philosophy is the study of all things knowable according to their ultimate causes. The matter of philosophy, therefore, in-cludes the world, the nature of man, and even the very being of God, as far as these things can be known by the light of reason. In natural theology, for instance, students are taught to prove the. ex-istence of God and His attributes, and how all things come from Him by creation, are kept in existence by His conservation and con-' currence, and finally have Him for their ultimate purpose. In this whole field no religious who has ever made the Spiritual Exercises can fail to see the very subject matter of the Foundation and the Contemplation to Obtain Divine Love. Moreover, the laws of 230 September, 1954 STUDY AND SPIRITUAL LIFE thought which God has implanted in our intellect, and the laws of conduct in our will, the nature 6f the human soul, its origin and its destiny are treated of in logic, ethics, and psychology. That such knowledge can, and should be, of immense profit to a religious in acquiring a more intimate knowledge of himself goes without saying. But, apart from this bearing of philosophy on his own personal life, it is in this branch of his studies that the student is forging some of his strongest weapons for his future apostolate. It is agreed, I think, by Catholic apologists that the most dangerous at-tacks on the faith today come .from ~hilosophical quarters, and hence they must be met with philosophical weapons. The Church is assailed by the false doctrines of Communism, of the rights of the state in education; she has to meet the ~rguments of those who would justify birth control and so-called mercy killing: she has to be able to give the answers to so many who question her about the very existenc~ of God and the immortality of the soul. And all of these questions have their answers--solid, reasonable answers-- in Scholastic. philosophy. Knowing this, then, a young religious would be foolish and failing in his duty if he did not study his phi-losophy with the idea of defending the Church in this all-important field. Motives For Studgin9 Theologg It takes little effort to understand how the study of theology, which is the science of God, can have a stimulating effect on the spiritual life of a theologian. The reason is that the subject matter of theology is exactly the same as the matter of our prayer and the interior life. All that God has revealed about Himself and about His plans for the sanctification of the world, all that one needs to know, and more than one needs to know, by way of credenda and agenda, to make one a saint is presented to us over a period of four years in lectures and books, arranged according to the most scientific system of thought yet devised. Treatises on the Unity and Trinity of God; treatises on God as Creator and Redeemer; treatises on the Incarnate God, Jesus Christ, and the mysteries of His life; a treatise on the Blessed Mother of God: treatises on God's ways of drawing men to Himself by means of grace and the sacraments; the Church of God and the four last things; the laws of God and of the Church --- each and every one of these subjects speaks to us of God . . . God ¯ . . God. Theology is the science of God. We must not conclude, however, that classes in theology are 231 30HN R. POST Reoiew ~or Religious meant to be spiritual exhortations. Thgy are not. Moreover, some of the theses may seem as lacking in warmth as mathematics: but like mathematids, they are necessary to show the strength and logic of the system. The hnowledye of God, then, not the love of Him, is the immediate object of theology--clear, solid, profound knowledge based on divine revelation. But since knowledge prepares for love, one's knowledge of God cannot help but prepare his soul for acts of the theological virtues of faith, hope, and ch;irity, not only during the times of formal prayer, but also during class as one listens to professors expounding the sacred doctrine and in one's roo~m when one can delve into the depths of Sdripture and tradition for oneself. That is why St. Augusti.ne likens the students of the-ology to the contemplative Mary who sat at the feet of desus listen-ing to His words. "Let them choose for themselves the better part," he says, "which shall not be taken from them, and let them give themselves up to the word, drink in eagerly the sweetness of doc-trine, and be taken up with the science of salvation." One of the aims of this article has, I hope, been achieved. It was to explain how in practice the life of studies can be made to help the spiritual life throughout the course. To this end some of the super-natural mo'tives or desires which can be blended with the natural desire of studiositas have been developed in detail. And doubtless there are others. One can, for instance, find great inspiration in studying out of gratitude to his own order, or out of reparation to the Sacred Heart. This last becomes especially valuable when the studies appear to be difficult or dull. But, those intentions we have discussed show at least how one can go about supernaturalizing his study habits right from the beginning of the course. Using the motives of studiositas, obedience, charity, and zeal for souls, ,which are common to every branch of knowledge, a student can also apply himself to the humanities because he wants to deepen his love for his fellow man, to philosophy to help him d~efend the Church, and to the61ogy because he wants to increase his faith, hope, and love of God. Entering upon his studies with any or all of these motives the young levite will turn his hours of class and study into exercises of the spiritual life and win great merit for himself, the merit of these lofty virtues. Nothing remains now but the easy task of pointing out how a young man's life of prayer can be made to help his life of study. In a perfect blending of the two it is clear that each must contribute 232 September, 1954 STUDY AND SPIRITUAL LIFE something to the other; and if, by means of the lot:ty mqtives we have just described, one's study-life has been turned into an instru-ment of the highest virtue, does it not seem just that in times of prayer a religious should make some return and beg of God the grace of making greater progress in his studies? He knows that grace is necessary for every supernatural work, and the more supernatural, it is, the more grace is needed. As he tries, therefore, to manage the higher motives in his study, it becomes increasingly clear that, al, though'we apply ourselves to the lesson in Greek or philosophy, still it is God who must give the increase. Moreover, when we plead with God to increase our spirit of curiosity or to give us a more re-tentive memory, we are asking Him only for what He Himself de-sires. St. John Damascene defines prayer as "the petition of fitting things from God." What can be more fitting, or more in accordance with God's will, than th~it a student, should make progress in his studies? If God asks every religious in his years of formation to strive seriously and eonstantly to acquire a mastery of his subject, surely He cannot take it amiss or accuse us of bringing in distractions if we beg Him now and then in our colloquies to assist us in carry-ing out" His own will, especially if the fulfillment of His will re-dounds so much to the defense of the t:aith, the spread of Catholi~ education, and the sanctification of .our own souls. This was done byi.St. Thomas, as we have seen. One's examination of conscience, toO, can be made to serve the cause of study by keeping a careful watch over one's motives and nourishing the solid habits of indus-try, ~bedience, and the others. And thus it will come about that by." a sort of interpenetration our studies will help our prayer and our prayer will help our studies, and both, thus joined toge~her, will bring ~:orth much fruit--in the spirit of the saints--to the greater glory of God. OUR ADDRESSES We have three different addresses. It would~ help considerably if all who com-municate with us would note them: 1. Bdsiness communications, sfich" as subscriptions, renewals, etc., should be sent to: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 606 Harrison St., Topeka, Kansas. 2. Books for review should be sent to: Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RE-LIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. 3. All other editorial communications, such as manuscripts, questions, letters for\publication, etc., should be sent to: The Editors, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS" St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 233' The World Around Us John H. Ziegler, C.S.P. THE families and friends of religious continually have to make lightning-like mental adjustments when conversing with Father Luke, Brother Bede, or Sister Mary Francis. Blithely we speak of a joke heard in the "common room," of having to at- ~end."particular examen," or of being assigned a new "obedience" next week--all terms capable of various interpretations besides the consecrated meanings we have attached to them. Most mysterious of all, however, must be our use of "the .world." When heard for the first time from young, red-cheeked Frater Paul, a statement like "I used to play left end for Catholic CentraE but that was before I left the world," could give some unititiated layman the eerie sensa-tion of being in the presence of a departed soul--appearances to the contrary notwithstanding. Occasionally too we are guilty of downright equivocation when referring to "the world," thereby indreasing our chances of being misunderstood. In one sense we left the world as soon as we" begin to live in a religious house, free from such worldly ways as catching [he 8:20 bus to work every' mornin'g and saving to buy a spring hat br a new pair of shoes. That world, however, is not in itself the world which hates Christ nor that which the spiritual writers un-animously warn us to shun under pain of losing our souls. "Our parents, to whom above all others under God we owe our vocations, live or lived in that world, along with countless other lay Catholics whose solid goodness we dare not question. In another sense, of course, there is "the world" which we as well as all Christians mdst renounce, the world which is its own idol, the world which makes of pleasure, power, and wealth the supreme goals of living. This world the religious not only leaves, but in doing so burns his bridges behind him so to speak by ceding to God his legitimate" rights tb use what the worldlings abuse. Hence it is always dangerous and some- ~:imes sinful to return to this seductive world even in our thotights and imaginings. But to dwell occasionally upon the present condi-tion of other men and women living in that world of cares and iinxieties from which mercifully we are sheltered can be very profit-able. Never to do so 'may even be to risk emotional immaturity,, a 234 THE WORLD AROUND US serious if not fatal flaw in a religious. For, although at first it sounds shocking, we can indeed learn much from the world. For example, our self-complacency shatters into a million pieces at the thought of how many good, prayerful, mortified people there are who have no title but Miss, Mr., or Mrs. At five in the morning the jangling of a lone alarm clock strikes the ear no more pleasant!y than the clanging of a bell or a throaty "Benedicamus Domino." Yet there are lay Catholics who rise at such an hour, say morning prayers, and set out for Mass in the nearest church. Perhaps they have had a full-night's sleep, perhaps they have been up and down half a dozen times with a restless child or a sick husband or wife. Others, particularly young women who work in offices, attend a noonday Mass during their lunch hour and receive Holy Commun-ion- which meant before the new Eucharistic fast regulations that they had been pounding a typewriter for three or four hours without so much as a sip of water. Man.y say their rosary daily; some steady old breadwinners have spent a few minutes before the Blessed Sac- .rament on their way home from work every day for years. These are by no means all the Catholics living in the world, not even the majority; but the point is that these few pray and sacrifice regularly or~ their own, without our schedule and rule, without the support and good example of our religious brethren, without, yes, the leisure time for prayer afforded us by our state of life. In the parable it was the servant who received only one talent and buried it unprofitably who was so severely reprimanded and punished. We shtidder.to think how severe would ~ave been the condemnation of the servant who received five talents if he had not made good use of them ! Paradoxically, it may also help us to be better religious to recall at times how many bad people there are in the world, crude, cruel, sensual, selfish people whom we seldom meet even in our apostolic contacts. How trifling the annoying faults of our confreres seem beside the gross wickedness of many who pass as respectable in the wgrld. Day in and day out, for instance, fine Catholic men and w,gmen must shut their ears against the flood of foul talk,~which sv~.irls around.workbenches and desks in, the,places they-~are~employed a demorali.zin.g source~ of temptation vce are spared. They must e~i~rn a living.ami~o fierce and often, unethical competition where it is every man for himself. Admittedly that blustering member c~f the. local community who somehow irritates us may not yet have at- 235 JOHN I-~. ZIEGLER Reolew [or Religious tained the highest reaches of humility and charity, but in 6ur .heart we can always be sure that 'if we w~r'e hungry, or sick, or in distress of any kind, he or she would be among the first to come to our aid no matter what the cost. :"' Speaking of per~gnality clashes and apparent lncompat~blhty agwe l~tbel it today, it would be enormously na'ive to suppose that these are restricted to convents and monasteries. Most religious had the good fortune to grow up in homes where father and mother settled their differences amicably and pulled together. Unfortun-ately this is not a universal pattern. The eloquent instruction be-fore marriage used in this country reminds the couple that "the fu,~ ture, with its hopes and disappoint .m. ents, its successes and its fail'- U~es, ii~s pleasures and its pains, its joys and its sorrows" is hidden from their eyes.' Often enough that" future soon reveals itself to be ¯ a bitter disappointment when one or the other partner under the stress of married and family life sho, ws up as a spiteful, unbending, irresponsible person.,. The ea~.y arid 15o, pular way out leads to a divorce court. But eyery parish priest knows of more than one case of sheer heroism on the part of a husband or wife who for years has ~t~d up under this cross rather than renege on a sacred promise and break up a home. So when we find the company of Father Glum oi Sister Garrhlous especially trying, our supernatural charity towards them will be no less meritorious and may even be more effective if we realize that since the fall of Adam human relations have been'an ifi-escapable problem for everybody. Enlarging our horizons and having a world vision can:in many. ways be a tonic to our sometimes sluggish spiritual lives. It is, we must never forget, our world since by .entering the common life we do not and in fact cannot resign from membership in the human race[ Moreover, our apostolic vocation compels us to see in every sinner a potential saint, and without indulging in the dubious esti-mate Of our age as the most wicked in history, we can safely say that objectively at least innumerable mortal sins are being committed. How puny and cowardly do our sacrifices appear against such a backdrop! Listlessly we dally over hundreds of opportunities to merit graces for the spiritually underprivileged while whole nations fall away from God. While Rome burns--thank God, not yet literally--we fritter away our time in the careless performance of our duties of state. Psychologists, say a well-adjusted person must be orientated; he must realize the circumstances of time and place 236 ' September, 1954 THE WORLD AROUND US and people in which he as an individual moves. Spiritual orientation --realizing our vital position in the Mystical Body--is even more necessary, particularly for the .religious assigned by obedience to work that naturally speaking is unattractive and unrewarding. Only when he or she fully appreciates the far-reaching; world-wide conse-quences of any task well done out of love for God can there be achieved that inner contentment and peaceful adjustment to the de-tails of daily life which should characterize every servant of God. A wilfully discontented religious is something of an "Indian giver," since it must be presumed that we knew at least confusedly what we were promising when we gave ourselves to God. Only the wilfully discontented, however, can be blamed, because everyone is apt to feel discontented now and then. Here, too, in these 6ccasional periods of dissatisfaction, turning to the stark reality of the outside World can do wonders for our morale. Imagine us standing before a group of young Catholic mothers and fathers of not poor but moderate circumstances and telling them with a straight face our most recent cause for dissatisfaction: that Sister Fortunata was deemed worthy of a new habit while we were told to put up with our patched one for awhile, or that Father Procurator's fondness for ginger snaps has led him to buy another case of them with the result that the whole comm.unity will be munching on the tasteless things for some weeks to come. While being somewhat amused and per-haps a bit surprised to find such utterly human reactions beneath the religious garb, these Catholic couples could very well give us an en-lightening five-minute lecture on how much it costs to house, clothe, and feed a growing family today, presenting as evidence a handful of unpaid bills. For all its inconveniences and privations. our poverty is at least secure. Their support depends on a monthly pay check which an extraordinary expense like illness can shrink to almost nothing. And then there are always the really poor whose existence, if we are not privileged t!o work among them, we may tend to forget. If we are stationed in a large city, the chances are that less than' a mile or two from our front door there are slums, the decrepitude and squalor of which would send us hurrying back gratefully to our neat little convents. There is little disagreement that over the course of a lifetime the~ most painful sacrifices~made by a religious: stem: from~ obedience. As the venerable Trappist~ lay brother is supposed to have admitted: 'Tve gotten used to almost everything but doing what I'm told." 237 JOHN H, ZIEGLER Reoiew for Religious Again it would be unrealistic to forget that not only religious have superiors. One thing that can be affirmed of our superiors is that however imprudent at times we may think their commands--how seldom all the facts warrant this opinion--their designs are moti-vated by a sincere desire for the good of the community and each of its members. Some of the most embittered persons one can meet in the world are those whose careers were blighted by an unscrupulous executive"s passing over their genuine ability and service to give the nod to some less worthy but conniving crony. The religious who harbors the suspicion that s.uperiors lie awake after night prayers de-vising ways to make him miserable is rapidly becoming pathological, both mentally and spiritually. Our rules and constitutions, or more often customs, sometimes reach a directing or restraining finger into nearly every department of life. But with admirable self-control in view of their past experience with red tape and army regulations, veterans of military service calmly assure us that we have no mon-opoly on minutiae. A West Point graduate confessed that, after the discipline of the Point, the externals of novitiate training did not seem overly difficult. Considerations such as these are not based upon a vision of re-ligious men and women, faithful to their obligations, but for the most part unhappy and disgruntled, dragging their way through life like dreary prisoners. Not at all! But is it unfair and untrue to concede that sooner or later into the life of even the most fervent among us there slink the twin devils of discouragement and self-pity? When they come, bent upon upsetting our spiritual equili-brium, should we not have some natural defense at hand as well as sound supernatural principles? All of creation is at our disposal to use in attaining our eternal destiny. Why not turn the contempo-rary world with its crosses and problems and temptations into a re-minder that the yoke we bear and the burden we shoulder are not altogether unique? ' And yet in one way they are unique. Because we are cross-- bearers not only by necessity as all men are, not only by Christian resignation as most good layfolk are, but by choice, as are all those who voluntarily follow the counsels. In return we above all others have Christ's promise of a hundredfold and life everlasting. This hundredfold we can spoil for ourselves if, too intent upon our own little world, we see our daily sacrifices magnified out of all propor-tion to what they really are. And even our store of eternal merit 238 September, 1954 COMMUNICATIONS can be decreased if, without a world-wide vision of the urgent needs of this hour, we fail to realize how much more we could help if we tried. Com rn un ica!:ions Reverend Fathers: This communication was prompted by Father Gallen's excellent article in the May issue of the REVIEW, "Pray Reasonably." He men-tions common difficulties in retreats for religious women, many of which, I feel, d~pend upon the methods of the retreat master. Often the presentation of points for n~editation loses its essential character through excessive length. Souls wearied by prolonged oratory are deprived of both the leisure and the inclination for fur-ther lengthy reflection. If these points are to retain their purpose of preparation for mental prayer, twenty minutes or half an hour would not seem to be an unreasonable limit, with the explicit in-junction that the retreatants continue the meditation themselves, al-though not necessarily remaining in the chapel to do so. A novel and perhaps very fruitful method of presenting the points would be that of the retreat master "meditating aloud" with brief pauses for the individual to add her own affections, even perhaps with both retreat master and retreatants kneeling. The additional time provided by this shortening of the points might be profitably used in individual contact with souls in the con-fessional. Many sisters do not have an opportunity for spiritual direction during the year and wish to seek advice during the annual retreat. If the hearing of confessions is delayed until the last few days of the retreat, or if the period allotted each day is very limited, the brevity which consideration for others demands makes it difficult to obtain adequate counsel. :~ I am sure that many would benefit by a series of articles on the subject of the retreat in the REVIEW, similar to the excellent treat-ment of spiritual direction a few years ago. Undoubtedly both re-treat masters and retreatants could share many suggestions in this way.--A SISTER. 239 lZor Your/n[orma!:ion Our Proiects In our March, 1954, number (p. 61) we suggested a "project" in the form of pooling ideas as to what it takes to be a good superior. We fiave received some response (even though rather meager) to this suggestion, but we have not yet had time to organize the material. We hope to have it ready for the November number. Also in the March number (p. 62) we suggested an "American Founders' Series." The response to this has also been meager; but the first article of what ,may (or may not) be a series will appear in November. Pharmacists' Guilds It is no easy thing today for the Catholic pharmacist to live up to the moral principles and ideals taught by the Church. One help-ful means of doing this is mutual cooperation in the form of phar-macists' guilds. One such guild is The Druggists' Guild of St. dames, of the Diocese of Covington, Kentucky. This guild has published a pamphlet entitled Our Faith in Pharrnac~j, which explains the moral principles and ideals, tells how to organize a guild, and gives a model of an appropriate constitution and by-laws. The ~0rice of the pam-phlet is twenty-five cents. It can be obtained from: The Druggists' Guild of St. James, 109 W. 6th St., Covington, Ky. Trapplsfs Leave New Mexico" The Trappist community of Our Lady of Guadalupe Abbey, Pecos, New Mexico is soon to be moved to a new site in Oregon. Their New Mexico property is now for sale. It is considered suitable for a convalescent home or some such purpose for any religious group not dependent on natural resources for its support. An illus-trated brochure with pertinent information may be had by writing the Father Abbot, Right Reverend M. Columban 'Hawkins, o.c.s.o., Guadalupe Abbey, Pecos,.New Mexico. 240 Pilgrims on !:he Road t:o Love George Byrne, S,J. THE strangest answer ever given to a questioner was given by Christ to Nicodemus. A doctor of the Law, he had been im-pressed by this "Rabbi, who came a teacher from God." From him, if from anyone, he could learn the ideal of life. What on earth did Christ's answer mean? "A man must be~ born again of water and the Holy Ghost." If there had been question only of some reno-vation by water, he might have understood. John the Baptist's work was not so enigmatic. But to be "born of the Spirit,". and so "to be spirit," entering on a new life unlike the "birth of the flesh," was something unheard of in the schools where the "masters in Israel" taught. Frankly, he did not understand. He was familiar~ with the book of Deuteronomy. He l~new its precept to love God with the whole heart, with the whole strength. But he did not know the meaning of real love; the love which "whether prophecies shall be made void, or tongues shall cease, or knowledge shall be'destroyed, never falleth away." This love bad nothing of earth in it; his mind had not yet been opened to "heav-enly things." He fancied that he loved, and with him we all so fancy; but our love is a love of desire, a yearning of the heart to clasp for self something that will enrich us. When personal gain disal~- pears, the "love" vanishes. It is still more fickle when faced with the cost of suffering. It was not love, pure love. Shakespeare merely repeats St. Paul: "Love is not love, which alters when it alteration finds." Pure love is uncaused. It is of heaven; it is heaven, fo~ "God is Love." A complete birth of the spirit is needed to secure it: "Create a dean heart in me, 0 God." Nicodemus must realize how "God so loved the wi~rld as to give His only begotten Son." Nico-demus, with his fellow Jews, practiced an observance calculated to hasten the "restoration of Israel." Self was the kernel of apparent fidelity. The Apostles, too, gave that they might get: "Wilt Thou at this time restore again the kingdom of Israel?" Their feet were not firmly set, as pilgrims, on the road to love--pure love, God's love. For three years the Master had been pointing the way; but their "hearts were slow to believe." About to leave them, He de-clared: "I have yet many things to say to you: but you cannot bear 241 GEORGE BYRNE Reuieto ~:or Religious them now." They had to be "born agai'n" of the Holy Spirit; He "would teach them all truth." He would do more. He would come; He would abide with them. They would not remain "or-phans." They were to find their 'way to the school of love. Born of God, they would love; and, loving with the real love, they would know Him. Before Pentecost the Apostles remained behind closed doors for fear of the Jews. After Pentecost they were "wit-nesses of the Holy Ghost." They bad been born again to the true love of God. Now. they wanted to give that they "might be chil-dren of their Father in heaven": "They went from the pr~esence of the council, rejoicing that they were accounted worthy to suffer re-proach for the name of Jesus." "To GIVE AND NOT TO COUNT THE COST" We saw in a previous article (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XIII [July, 1954], 211) that, though all of us would resent' being told that we are inc.apable of love, we should be read9 enough to demur about the epithet. "holy." Even though we might count ourselves among the class of "good religious," there would be a lurking feeling that "holy" is reserved for the "saints." We rather think of it as applicable to some rare supermen, who have shaken the world's dust from their feet and have reached a No-Ordinary-Man's Land, through an asceticism, and a still more esoteric mysticism, beyond our range. A fundamental mistake, since "holiness" and "'real love" are identified: "He who loveth is born of God." St. John, who bad pondered over Christ's reply to Nicodemus, at last under-stood it fully at Pentecost. When he began to write his Epistle, he had "been born again" and had come to "know God" with the knowledge that "is eternal life: that they may know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent." The truth is easily stated. In practice, however, it seems one of those easy lessons hard to learn. John could speak of that "which we have heard, which we have seen with our ~yes . and our hands hav~ handled, of the word of life." St. Peter would strengthen our faith in its trial with the words, "Whom having not seen, you love." We remain doubtful: "how, where, and when have we shown this love? The Master Himself has removed all uncertainty: "Lord, when did we see Thee hungry . . . ? Amen, I say to you, as long as you did it to one of these my least brethren, you did it to me." The test of love is generosity; the test of pure love is unselfish generosity: "to give, and not to count the cost . . . to labor and not 242 September, 1954 PILGRIMS ON THE ROAD TO LOVt~ to seek reward": "Do good, and lend, hoping for nothing thereby: ¯ . . and you shall be the sons of the Highest." The "rich man" may well, like the Pharisee, have pridec] himself on his religion of temple service and Law, observance; growth in holiness he neglected. Lazarus, at his gate, offered him an oppor- ¯ -tunity. of growing in love by compassion. He neglected it; he was buried in hell, where all the loveless go! St. Francis de Sales has been called the saint of love: his pen distilled the word; his actions breathed it. His friends asked him the way to holiness. "You must love God with all your heart; and your neighbor as yourself," he.answered. "Yes," they said, "we know all that; but bow is one to do it?" To their insistence he replied: "Methods and systems I have.n't, got. You learn to love by loving; as you learn to speak by spe~iking, to run by running. ¯ . . Begin as a mefe~pprentice, and the very power of love will lead you on to become master of the art." " St. 'Paul, certainI~ a fire-eater, "breathing out threatenings and slaughter aga~nst~the d~sc~ple~of the Lord," d~d sit down as an ap-prentice to learn. He mastered th~ lesson and left it as an heirloom for us in his beautiful "Song of Love." If we would be "holy," we could do no better than constantly sing to ourselves this song, and let its melody harmonize with all we think about or do to oust. fellowmen. Let us begin the apprenticeship at home before looking for arctic regions to whrm with rays of our kindliness. This was the "little way" of Thgr~se of Lisieux. ~She daily tended, in her own little garden, roses whose perfume spread far and wide. Let us take St. Paul's Song of Love, and place in an opposite column the growl of selfishness. CHARITY is patient . . . is kind: on the look-out to help . . . envieth not: encourages, praises . . . dealeth not perversely . . . is not puffed up . . . is not ambitious . . . seeketh'not her own . . . .SELFISHNESS is impatient: "I can't stand thls"; "give it to me now" . . . is intolerant, bored: keeps what it has; looks for more . . . is jealous: criticizes, condemns to ap-pear bigger . . . loves to "hit back," to "take dowa that fellow's prideV' . . . lets others know what it has done; thrives on flattery . . . is full of its own importance; expects due reqognition . . . insists on its rights; "number one" is never second . . . 243 GEORGE BYRNE CHARITY is not provoked to anger . rejoiceth not in iniquity, but . . . with the truth . . . SELFISHNr:SS is touchy: flares up at a word or an act . . . admires the crafty; is afraid of sin-cerity . . . beareth all things . . . believeth all things . . . hopeth all things . . . endureth all things, . never falleth away. complains of each pin-prick . . . is suspicious, on its guard . . . is cynical: throws cold water . . . has little staying power when sacrifice is needed: is fickle. As religious, we make an examination of conscience at least once, peihaps twice a day. A mere inventory of so many duties well done, poorly done, or forgotten, does not carry us very far on the way to real improvement. The point to be stressed is not the work done, but the motive, the spirit, animating it. Our divine Master made this clear in commendin~g Mary Magdalen: "Many sins are forgiven her because she hath loved much." If instead of "Charity" w~ read in the first column, "Jesus," we see how true it is: "Jesus is patient, is kind, beareth all things, etc." Then try our own name: "John, Mary, etc." We soon see how little we fit into the "Char-ity" column; on the contrary, how much we are at home in the selfishness parade. Having made the discovery, let us look forward to possible op-portunities during the next hour, this morning, or this afternoon, of being "patient, kind, enduring," and the rest: let us resolve to profit by some of them. It is thus. that we "learn to love b,y loving." It is thus that we really start as pilgrims on the road to love and find to our surprise that we have more in common with the Heart of Love, the Sacred Heart, than we imagined. Holiness, wl~ich is growth in love, is not an empty dream. OUR CONTRIBUTORS JOHN R. POST is master of novices at the Jesuit novitiate, Shadowbrook, at Lenox, Massachusetts. JOHN H. ZIEGLER is doing graduate studies at the Catholic University of America. GEORGE BYRNE is professor of ascetical theology at Mill-town Park, Dublin, Ireland. FRANCIS N. KORTH is a member of our editorial. board. 244 'i Secular Ins!:d:u!:es: Some ( ues!:ions Francis N. Korth, S.J. IN A PREVIOUS ISSUE of this REVIEW (XIII [1954], 108)~, I referred to a number of interesting points about secular insti-tutes, many of which came up during the discussions of the ruary, 1954, Chicago meeting dealing with secular institutes. At the time I mentioned that I hoped to present these points in a future article, possibly in question-and-answer form. This is'the redemp-tion of that promise. The items are more or less iso'lated points. They are being presented with a view to filling out to some extent the general picture of what a secular institute is. It is hoped they will fulfill the purpose for which they are intended. I. Must applicants necessarily go to a distant city where a house of the secular institute is located? Personal acquaintance of the applicant should be had by the adviser who acts for the secular institute. This usually means a trip on someone's part. Later ori some other provision for the training of successful can~lidates closer to their home might possibly be worked out, especially if there are several such candidates living in about the same vicinity. However, that solution would depend upon a number of circumstances: sometimes it might be possible, other times it would be impossible. It would be better not to count upon it but rather to more or less plan on going for the necessary training.to the place where the house of the secular institute is lo-cated, at least for some period of time. 2. Is it adoisable to admit ex-religious as candidates to a secular institute? At least at the beginning of a new secular institute it would seem to be advisable not to take in too many ex-religious, since they already have undergone a systematic training different from that proper to candidates for a secular institute. That previous training might binder the development of the true spirit of a budding secular institute. 3. Are middle-aged people likely candidates for a'dmittance to secular institutes? 245 " FRANCIS N. KORTH Review for Religious M.any otherwise good people of that age group might not have all the?necessary q~J'alifications.for .such a vocation. One of these would be the proper age requirement for admittance to a specified institute. Hence one who is channeling possible vocations to dif-ferent secular institutes should make himself acquainted with the age requirements of the various groups. 4. Are widows acceptable as candidates for a secular institute? Widows can be admitted, unless the individual constitutions forbid it. If the widow has children, that might make a difference. Depending upon circumstances, .such applicants might be accepted or might be refused. 5. Would divorced persons be admitted? Under the supposition that the constitutions allow it, if the divorced person is the innocent party, such applicant could be ad-mitted provided there was no scandal: for example, if the identity of the person as a member of the secular institute is kept hidden if that be necessary to avoid scandal, or if the person goes to a place far removed from the locality where he is known. 6. What is the length of the aspirancy and of the novitiate? A six-months' aspirancy seems to be rather common. The period of training which corresponds to the novitiate in religious institutes varies: it is of one- or two-years' duration in some existing institutes. 7. Could the vows or promises made in a secular institute be termed semipublic? Yes, that term has been applied to them at'times since those vows, oaths, consecrations, or promises have a juridical effect. How-ever, all such vows, oaths, consecrations, and promises are, abso-lutely speaking, juridically private and not public; they are not recognized as public by the Church. But to distinguish them from ordinary private vows (which have no juridical effects) those vows have been termed by some commentators as semipublic or social VOWS. 8. What type or courses of studies might be suggested for the intel-lectual formation of members? Courses or lectures in dogmatic theology and in~ some branches of philosophy could be given. Also there is place-for courses in 246 September, 1954 SECULAR INSTITUTES asceticism. Dependent upon the particular apostolate of an institute, courses in languages, missiology, sociology, and other subjects would be suitable. 9. How much time would be given to prayer? In some institutes about one or two hours daily are required. This includes attendance at Mass, saying the rosary, a ball bout or more of meditation, some spiritual reading, and the like. Because many members are busy during the day earning their livelihood or doing their usual tasks, the suitable time for prayer would be the morning or evening hours. In some institutes the Divine Office (usually only a pari of it) is said privately each day. An annual retreat of five or six days is the regular thing. There might also be a monthly day of recollection. 10. Is any means used for checking on faithfulness to those prayer obligations? One possible means could be a written report on the external ful-fillment of the prayer obligations. However, no data is available on how much, if any, of this is done in practice. I1. What provision is made for the observance of the vow or promise of poverty? When the members are living in a common house and bare goods in common, the matter can be provided for quite easily. This is rarely the case. When the members do not live in a common house, a "budget" method could be used. This budget might be drawn up to cover ordinary expenses, such as light, food, heat, and so on. It might also be extended to include another category, extraordinary ex-penses: necessary or useful expenses that arise only occasionally. In either case, the estimated budget of expenses could be submitted periodically to the superior for approval, perhaps once a year. After- ~vards, at stated intervals the discrepancies between this estimated budget and the real budget, of which a record bad been kept, would be submitted to the superior for approval of the discrepancies. This budget would be individual; it would take into account such facts as the resources or income of the subject and his status in society. If the budget covers only ordinary expenses, then for extraordinary expenses (for example, the purchase of a new coat) permission could be obtained each time from the superior. Or provision might be 247 FRANCIS N. KORTH Review for Religious made to allow the subject to presume permission for the extraordi-nary expense and then report the matter later on. Similarly, in regard to the amount of money to be contributed by each member for the general needs of the institute, an agreement could be made between the institute (superior) and the subject. This might be made on a somewhat permanent basis, or as something to be re-examined and possibly revised periodically, say annually. If the former, then a clause could be added requiring re-examination in case the financial .condition of the subject became notably c.hanged. Again in drawing up this agreement, account is taken of the financial status of the individual. In general, in the matter of poverty a member could try to get along with a little less than other persons in his state of life or social position require. 12. Could a me~ber of a secular institute ~wn and operate a busi-ness? : Owning and operating a business in the name of the institute is forbidden, but it does not seem forbidden for an individual member to own and operate one. 13. Could a member prot)ide.for his parents financially it: the latter were in need? If the parents of a member fell int~ need, it seems that the supe-rior could approve such assistance as a necessary expense. In that case, however, the institute itself would not support the parents of the member, but it,would permit the member to support them. 14. Do members of secular institutes mal~e a will? Yes, a will or last testament is made before profess)on. 15. What about dealing with the opposite sex? Aside from professional or other necessary contact, it would seem that steady or regular contact with members of the opposite sex is to be avoided. This would also extend to correspondence. In the matter of dancing, members could sponsor or chaperon dances, but they .would not themselves dance with persons of the opposite sex. However, it is possible that such provisions might vary some-what in different institutes. . 16. Is it permissible fgr members to attend movies? to use cos-metics? to smoke? to go swimming? , 248 September, 1954 SECULAR INSTITUTES In these matters, there very likely might be divergent practices among various institutes. According to one report it is all right for the members to attend movies for recreational purposes if the pic-tures are good; moderate use of cosmetics is allowed; no mention is made for or against smoking; swimming is permissible. The deci-sion as to what is permissible or not in these and similar matters might depend to a considerable extent upon the customs of places and peoples. 1.7. For what purpose would a secular institute be established? A secular institute would have the general purpose of aiming at the sanctification of its members. There would also be a specific purpose, such as doing some particular apostolic work to meet a special apostolic need, or simply placing its members at the disposal of the local ordinary (or of the Holy See) to do what, he wishes done. 18. In u2hose hands is the government of a secular institute? In general the government of a secular institute is in the hands of its lay members, at least for the lay sections. In some institutes, however, a priest is serving in the capacity of superior general or provincial superior. But as a rule priest members might act rather in the capacity of spiritual advisers or confessors. 19. What is an ecclesiastical assistant? An ecclesiastical assistant (who might be known possibly~ by some other term) is a priest specially designated to give help to a secular institute. He might be chosen from the ranks of the diocesan or religious clergy. In general the function of an ecclesiastical as-sistant would be that of counseling, giving spiritual help, and the like in the external forum; but his work might vary somewhat at times in accordance with the wishes of the local ordinary. The in-. ternal government of a group, however, should be left to thegroup itself, unless possibly at 'the beginning more than spiritual help is needed from this priest to keep things going. 20. Would it be advisable for this ecclesiastical assistant, ~vbo has authoritq in spiritual matters in the external forum, also to be the ordinartj confessor or spiritual director of a member? If a discussion of t'bis point were held, the conclusion migbt be reached that a negative answer would seem to/be the better one, al- 249 FR,~,NCIS N. KORTH though in some instances such a combination might work out all right. 21. Is it advisable to use terms, such as "'novitiate," "profession," and so on in connection with secular institutes? At present some of the terminology which is common usage in regard to religious institutes is being used by some writers to explain similar matters relating to secular institutes. Terms such as "no-vitiate" and others which are proper to religious institutes are usu-ally not to be applied in their technical sense to secular institutes; rather it is hoped that a distinct body of terminology proper to secular institutes will be built up gradually. One purpose of such separate terminology might be to stress the important fact that members of secular institutes are not religious. PAMPHLETS Looe Letter (on the love of God) by John M. Scott, S.J. l0 cents.-- Twenty-four Rosaries and Chaplets, by Patrick Shaughnessy, O.S.B. 15 cents.- The Grail, St. Meinrad, Indiana. The Teacher and Vocations, by John B. Delaunay, C.S.C. 10 cents-- Ave Maria Press, Notre Dame, Indiana. The Ladtl Was Immaculate, by Daniel A. Lord, S.J.--I Can't Cope/ That Family, by Francis L. Filas, S.d.--Death Is Life, by John M. Scott, S.J.--Heart of Our World," by Arthur R. McGratty, S.J.--Don't Go to Hell, by Winfrid Herbst, S.J.--Each 10 cents. The Queen's Work, 3115 3outh Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18,, Mo. MARIAN YEAR PLAY Counted as Mine is a play of three acts, six scenes, with a modern-dress cho-rus, suitable for performance by high school and college students or by little the-atre groups and parish drama clubs. It is the story of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the Hope of America. Written by a Poor Clare, the author of the play, Candle in Umbria, and of the boqk of poems, Whom. I Have Loued. $1.00 per copy. Order from: t(ev. Mother M.'Immaculata, P.C., Poor Clare Monastery of Our Lady of Guadalupe, Route 1, Box 285-C, Roswell, New Mexico. 25O Quinquennial Repor!: By Nonfederated Autonomous Monasteries and Houses EDITORS' INTRODUCTION THE decree of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, 3uly 9, 1947 (cf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VIII [Sept., 1949], 234- 40), extended the obligation of m~lking the quinquennial re-port beyond the terms of canon 510, which requires it only of the abbot primate, the superior of every monastic congregation, and the superior general of every institute approved by the Holy See. Now, however, the superiors of all nonfederated autonomous monasteries and houses, as well as the superiors general of all diocesan congrega-tions, are obliged to send in this quinquennial report. Here are the provisions regarding these latter classes of religious: 1. Major superiors of autonomous, monasteries or houses o[ men which, although approved by the Holy See, do not belong to any monastic congregation or federation, shall send in their reports in the foIlowing order: In 1953, 1958, 1963, canons regular, monks, military orders. In 1954, 1959, 1964, all other regulars. In 1955, 1960, 1965, clerical congregations. In 1956, 1961, 1966, lay congregations. In 1957, 1962, 1967, societies of common life, secular insti-tutes and federations. 2. Major superioresses of autonomous monasteries and houses not belonging to any federation, as well as superioresses general of diocesan congregations, societies of common life, and of secular in-stitutes, shall send their report as follows: In I953, 1958, I963, the superioresses of Italy, Spain, Portu-gal. In 1954, 1959, 1964, the superioresses of France, Belgium, Holland, England, Ireland. In 1955, 1960, 1965, the superioresses of the other countries of Europe. In 1956, 1961, 1966, the superioresses of America (North,. Central, South). Shortly after the publication of its decree, the Sacred Congrega- "25t QUINQUENNIAL REPORT tion issued a new questionnaire to replace the official one of March 25, 1922 (AAS, XV, [1923], 459-466) which contained 106 questions. The new questionnaire, printed in Latin, has three forms: (1) for pontifical institutes and societies (342 questions); (2) for diocesan congregations and societies (322 questions); (3) for nonfederated autonomous monasteries and houses (171 questions). The first of these questionnaires, for pontifical institutes a, nd societies, has been translated into English and published by the Sa-cred Congregation. It is available for $1.50 from Rev. Giulio Mandelli, Archivist, S. Congregation of Religious, Palazzo San Cal-listo, Rome, Italy. With the permission of the Sacred Congrega: tion of Religious, this complete official English text was also pub-lished in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS during the course of the year 1950. The two shorter questionnaires have never been translated officially into English. As a matter of fact, the questionnaires fbr pontifical and diocesan institutes are practically identical after one omits some twenty questions dealing with provinces and their government. The complete text for diocesan congregations may be found in Creusen-Ellis: Religious Men and Women in the Code, ed. 5, 1953, pp. 278-316. The questionnaire for nonfederated autonomous monas.teries and houses, however, contains only about half the questions pro-posed for pontifical institutes. It was decided to publish this ques-tionnaire in our REVIEW for the benefit of these small houses because they cannot find the qfiestions elsewhere in English, And, since the monasteries and houses in England and Ireland must send in their reports this year, this questionnaire is being printed now, even though American houses will not need it until 1956. We should like to add that, though these various questionnaires may directly concern only limited numbers of religious, yet all of us can learn a great deal about the mind of the Church by reading the questions. What follows is an unofficial English translation of the official Latin text of the questionnaire: POINTS TO BE NOTED A) Regarding the drawing up, and writing of the quinquennial re-port: a) ]~efore the reply to each question, there should be a clear 252 ~ September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT ¯indication of the number and letter by which that question is desig- ~aated in this list. b) Whenever a pontifical or episcopal document is brought in, its date and protocol number should be faithfully and uniformly given. c) The reply is to be developed as each case may require, and is not to be dismissed with a simple affirmation or denial. d) The report is to be made out in Latin or in any of the fol-lowing modern languages: English, French, German, Spanish, or Italian. e) The report should be typed and in clear characters. If for some just cause the report is written by hand, the handwriting must be clear. f) The paper to be used must not be translucent nor too thick, but durable, so as to resist the ravages of time. B)" Regarding the manner in which this report is to be made to the ordinaGl and transmitted b~] him to the Sacred Congregation of Religious: 1. Superiors of autonomous monasteries and religious houses are not to send the quinquennia! report directly to the Holy See, but rather to their own local ordinary, if they are subject to him, other-. wise to the regular ordinary upon whom they depend (cf. decree Cure transactis, IV, 1°, 2°). 2. The report is to be signed by the superior of the autono-mous monastery or house and by all his councilors. 3. Either the local ordinary or the regular ordinary, as the case may be, shall send a copy of the report, signed by himself and an-notated by his own personal observations, to the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religious within the year itself during which the report is to be made. 4. Together with the first report following the publication of the present questionnaire, the following documents also are to be sent to the Sacred Congregation of Religious: a) Two well-bound copies of the Rule and the constitutions, revised to conform with the Code of Canon Law. .b) One copy each, if there are such, of the books in which particular laws, practices, customs, the ceremonial, and proper prayers are contained. c) A historico-juridical report in which are indicate.c[.the origin of the autonomous monastery or house, its establishment or 253 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Reoiew for Religious approval, as well as the principal historical events. To this shall be added, if there are any such, copies of those books which describe the history and activity of the monastery. " ¯ ON THE FIRST PAGE OF THE REPORT PUT THE FOLLOWING: The Name, of the monastery or house: . . . ~ (the of{iclal title in Latin, and the common name) Complete address: postal, telegraphic. The years which are covered by the report: . . . THE LIST OF OUESTIONS CONCERNING THE PRECEDING REPORT 1. a) When was the last report sent to the ordinary? b) Were the observations on the report which may have been made by the Sacred Congregation and transmitted by the or-dinary faithfully carried out in practice? 2. Can the matters of information contained in the last report be conscientiously considered reliable and complete, or does anything concerning them seem to require modification? CHAPTER I THE MONASTERY AND ITS GOVERNMENT ARTICLE I The autonomous monastery or house in general 3. What is the juridical nature of the monastery or house: a) To which order, if any, does it belong and which Rule is followed? b) Are the vows solemn or simple; or simple, though sol-emn according to the institute (c. 488, 7°) ? 4. Is the house provided with those things which are neces-sary for the common life, especially: a) A separate cell for each person; or, if the dormitories are common, at least a separate bed for each person, properly set apart from the others? 254 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT b) A separate place fully suitable for the care and assistance of the sick? c) Are the rooms for receiving guests sufficiently separate from the part of the house which is reserved to the community? 5. Are there an.y filial houses subject to the autonomous mon-astery or house? How many? 6. Does the monastery depend on the local ordinary or on the regular superior? ARTICLE II Concernin9 he juridical 9overnmen÷ 7. Is the general council of the monastery or house up to its full membership at present? 8. Within the period covered by the report, has there been a session of the chapter of elections? 9. Were the norms [for the chapter] prescribed by the com-mon law and by particular law "(the constitutions, etc.) faithfully observed as regards: a) The time of the session? b) The elections of the superior, of the consultors or assist-ants, and of other general officials who are elected by the chapter? 10. In all these matters, even in seeking information about the candidates, did all avoid procuring votes either directly or indirectly for themselves or for others (c. 507, § 2) i1. Who presided at the chapter? 12. Were the norms of the common law and of the constitu-tions observed: a) Regarding the requisites and qualifications of superiors and officials (cc. 504, 516)? b) Regarding the duration of offices (c. 505) 13. How many and what dispensations from the provisions of the common or particular law were granted by the Holy See: a) For appointments to positions or offices? b) For the renewal of the same? c) Were the conditions attached to these dispensations faithfully observed ? 14. How do superiors see to it that the decrees of the Holy See which concern religious are known and observed by their own sub-jects (c. 509, § 1)? 15. Is perfect freedom left to subjects, without any inspec-tion of letters by superiors, in their epistolary correspondence with 255 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT those persons who, according to the common (c. 611) and particu-lar law, have this right? 16. Were there any cases of secret and clandestin~ epistolary correspondence, either between religious or between these and secu-lar persons, and what ,was done to correct these abuses? 17. Has the canonical, visitation of the local ordinary taken place, as well as that of the regular superior, if the monastery is sub-ject to him? 18. Have chapters and council meetings been held at prescribed times and in the required cases? 19. Are the matters in which, according to the common and particular law, councilors have a deliberative or consultative vote, faithfully submitted to a meeting of the council? 20. Is the proper liberty of all and each of the councilors duly recognized in the council meetings? And'in the decisions, appoint-ments and votes of whatever kind, were the norms of the common law (cc. 101, 105, 1°, 2°, 3°) and of the particular law always ob-served ? 21. Are the minutes of the meetings duly drawn up and signed? 22. Are the archives of the monastery or house properly equipped and carefully arranged? 23. Is there also for each house a chronicle in which the prin-cipal events are carefully recorded? ARTICLE III Concerning the spiritual government 24. Are there confessors appointed for each house according to c. 518, § i? 25. Without prejudice to the constitutions which may pre-scribe or recommend that confessions be made at stated times to ap-pointed confessors, are the religious left free to go, in accordance with canon 519, without prejudice however to religious discipline, to a confessor approved by the local ordinary, even though he is not among the appointed confessors? 26. Are the norms of the common law and of the constitu-tions faithfully observed regarding the appointment and reappoint-ment of the ordinary, extraordinary, special, and supplementary confessors (cc. 520, §§ 1-2, 521, 524, 526, 527)? 27. Did superioresses faithfully observe the prescriptions made for them regarding supplementary confessors (c. 521, § 3), occa- 256 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT sional confessors (c. 522), and confessors in case of grave illness (c. 523) ? 28. Do superiors take means and exercise a prudent vigilance to see that all the religious, according to law" (c. 595, § 1, 3,°) and the constitutions (c. 519), receive the sacrament of penance at least once a week? 29. Have superiors been guilty of any abuses, and if so what were they, by which the liberty of conscience of their subjects has been restricted (cc. 518, § 3, 519, 520, § 2, 521,§ 3, 522, 2414)? 30. Has there been, under pretext of.liberty of conscience, any detriment to religious discipline on the part of subjects? Did any other abuses arise? 31. Do superiors, in accordance with canon law (c. 530, §§ 1, 2) leave their subjects free in regard to making a strict mani-festation of conscience to them? 32. Is there an appointed chaplain, or have other provisions been made by sacred functions sufficient for the spiritual welfare of the religious? Are there any difficulties with regard to the spiritual welfare? 33. Do superiors, in accordance with c. 5'95, §§ 2-3, promote among their subjects frequent and even daily reception of the Most Sacred Body of Christ, always without prejudice to full liberty of conscience according to law (c. 595, § 4) and the instructioris of the Holy See? 34. Do superiors diligently see to it that confessors are easily available before Communion, and do they allow their religious sub-jects a suitable time for preparation and thanksgiving? 35. Do superiors see to it that, according to the constitutions and the common law, there are spiritual and catechetical instructions for the entire house (c. 509, § 2, 2°), for the novices (c. 565, § 2), for the conversi [lay brothers and lay sisters], for the domes-tics and servants .(c. 509, § 2, 2°) ? ARTICLE IV Concern[n9 fhe f[nanclal 9overnmenf 36. a) Did the house 'acquire any immovable property or precious movable property? What was the value of these acquisi-tions? b) Was the aforesaid property acquired by gift or other gra-tuitous title, or by purchase, and in this latter case was it with the funds of the house or with borrowed money? 257 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Review for Religious 37. Has the house an inventory of its movable property, espe-cially of that which is classed as precious (by reason of art, his-tory, or material) (c. 1522, 2°) and of its immovable property? 38. When must these inventories be revised, and are they in fact revised? 39. By what method or in whose name before the civil law is the religious property registered? Can this registration be regarded as safe in civil law? 40. Were extraordinary expenses paid from their own ordi-nary or extraordinary income, or on the contrary with borrowed funds? 41. What capital property, whether immovable, or stable [i.e. consisting of capital funds], or precious, was alienated, and by what authority? 42. In the alienation of property, were the provisions of law (cc. 534, 1531), especially regarding the previous appraisal by ex-perts, and the norms of the constitutions, observed? 43. Did the house consume any stable or founded property or capital funds? For what reasons and by what authority? 44. Are superiors making serious efforts to recover this prop-erty ? 45. a) What debts were contracted, and by whom? b) What debts are actually outstanding~ 46. In contracting debts and obligations, were the following faithfully observed : a) The provisions of c. 534? b) The precautions mentioned in c. 536, § 5? c) The norms of the constitutions regarding permissions, the consent of the council, etc. ? 47. Was the interest on debts and obligations faithfully paid, and is diligent care being taken toward the gradual payment of the debt; or the amortization of the capital sum borrowed (c. 536, § 5)? 48. Are there any difficulties of an economic nature, and what are they ? 49. Is the administration of property conducted, not abitrar-ily, but according to the common law and the constitutions, under the direction and vigilance of the superior and of his council (cc. 516, § 2, 532, § 1)? 50. Was a clear and complete rendering of account demanded 258 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT of all and each of the bursars and administrators during the five-year period ? 51. Were there presented, together .with the accounts, the documents showing the expenditures and receipts? 52. Was there regularly an inspection and checking of the safe? 53. Did superiors, councils, and administrators lawfully, safely, and profitably invest the money which was to be invested according to law and the will of benefactors, observing the rules of law and the constitutions (c. 533) ? 54. Are money, securities, contracts, precious articles carefully preserved, observing exactly the common norms and the provisions of the constitutions? 55. Do superiors, bursars, administrators conscientiously strive to have all the property of the institute religiously preserved and providently administered (c. 532, § 1)? 56. What legacies and pious foundations were accepted? 57. In accepting pious foundations and legacies, were the rule~ of law (c. 1544, ss.) and of the constitutions observed? 58. Was the money of foundations and pious causes, accord-ing to law and with the consent of the 16cal ordinary when that was required, invested (cc. 535,. §§ 1,. 2: 1547)' and separately and faithfully administered (cc. 535, § 3, 2°; 1546; 1549)? 59. Were the obligations attached to foundations faithfully and conscientiously fulfilled (cc. 151,4, 1549, § 2)? 60. Did visitors demand documentary proof of their fulfil-ment and an account of the administration of the property? 61. Did any religious, superiors or subjects, personally or through others, engage in illicit business, that is, business not per-mitted to religious, in violaton of cc. 142, 592? 62. Were superiors and councils attentively watchful that, ac-cording to c. 1539, § 2, in the administrative exchange of securities payable to bearer, all appearance of commerce or trading was avoid-ed? 63. How did superiors exercise vigilance over the actions and dealings of their subjects from which there might arise according to law a financial responsibility on the part of tbe house (c. 536, § 2) or of the individual religious (c. 536, § 3) ? 64. Do superiors see to it that, in all matters which concern finances, or in those generally which could give occasion for litiga-tion in the canonical or civil courts, everything is done exactly ac- 259 QUINQUENNIAL" "R EPOR.T Review for Religious cording to law, on the basis of previous written contracts and with the guarantee of perfectly valid signed agreements, etc. (c. 1529)? 65. How are the economic needs of the monastery provided for: by the labor of the community or by alms? 66. What, if any, activity does the community engage in for its own support? CHAPTER II CONCERNING THE RELIGIOUS AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE AND DISCIPLINE 67. What are the different classes, if any, among the members of the monastery? Does harmony exist among the different classes and is fraternal charity observed among them? 68. What is the actual number of those professed of tempo-rary vows and of perpetual vows, according to the various classes? 69. Besides the persons who belong to the institute or society as members, by religious profession or lawful incorporation, are there others who are dedicated or given to it, or the like, without being members? 70. Is provision made in fairness and charity for the spiritual life of these persons and also for their material security? 71. Are there any legitimately approved statutes for them? ARTICLE I Concerning the admission, formation, and profession or incorporation of members 72. Is the condition of the extern sisters regulated according to the statutes promulgated by the S. Congregation on 3uly 16, 19317 73. Are the postulantships properly conducted according to law in the novitiate house (c. 540, § 1), or in houses where perfect religious observance exists (c. 540) ? 74. Was the time assigned by the common law (c. 539) or by the constitutions for the postulantship abbreviated or prolonged? If so,~for how long a time and by what authority? 75. What means are used to arouse and attract vocations? 76. Taking into account the different circumstances of various localities, what causes are regarded as having an influence on the in-crease or diminution of vocations? 77. What are the obstacles which aspirants most frequently have to overcome in order to follow th~ir vocation? 260 September, 195"4 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT 78. Were the documents required by the 'common law (c. 544) and by the constitutions demanded before admission in the case of each aspirant? 79. At least before entrance into the novitiate, were the fol-lowing testimonial letters demanded and obtained: a) The common testimonial letters which are to be given by the local ordinaries and are prescribed for all (c. 544, § 2) ? b) The special testimonial letters which are to be given under oath by the rector or major superior fo~ those who have been in a seminary or a college which is equivalent to an ecclesiastical one, or in a postulantship or novitiate of a religious institute (c. 544, §3)? c) Likewise the testimonial letters which are required in the case.of clerics and professed religious (c. 544, §§ 4, 5) ? 80. Besides the documents and testimonials which are spe-cially prescribed by law or by the constitutions, were further infor-mations which seemed necessary or useful in order to judge with certainty of the vocation and fitness of the aspirants diligently sought (c. 544, § 6)? 8 I. From what impediments¯ or defects, if any, of the common or particular law, were dispensations granted? How often and by what authority was this done? 82. Were aspirants always admitted by the competent su-periors, according to the prescriptions of the law (c. 543) ? 83. Is the right of the institute to demand payment for the expenses of the religious habit and board during the postulantship and noviceship given in the constitutions or customarily recognized by express agreement? 84. Who determines the amount to be paid? 85. How many novices are there at present? 86. Did each and every novice have a complete copy of the constitutions from the beginning of the novitiate? 87. Are ~he novices, according to law and the constitutions, kept separate from the professed, and is any undue communication between them tolerated (c. 564, § 1, 2) ? 88. Did each and every novice before profession make a com-plete and continuous canonical year of noviceship, without counting the first day, in a novitiate house lawfully erected, under the care and direction of a master (cc. 555, § 1, 556, 557) ? 89. Was the noviceship extended or shortened beyond the 261 QUINQUEN.NIAL REPORT Review for Religio. us limits fixed by law (c. 571, §2) and the constitutions? If so, for how long a time and by w.hat authority was this done? 90. Was there always in the novitiate a master of novices duly appointed or elected (c. 560) ? 91. Have the novice master and his socius all the qualifications and all the requisites prescribed by the common law (c. 559, § 1, 2) and the cgnstitutions, or did dispensations have to be asl~ed for" and obtained ? 92. A~ the master and socius free from all offices and minis-~ tries in or out of the house which might interfere with their care a'nd direction of the novices( c. 559, § 3)? 93. Did all the novices, according to c. 569, § 1, before the first profession of simple vows, freely cede the administration, and either cede or dispose of the use and usufruct, of their propett~y? 94. In case the aforesaid cession and disposition were n6t:':duly made before the profession, or in case new property was acquired thereafter, were they made or completed after the profession (c. 569, § 2)? 95. Were any changes of the aforesaid cession and disposition after the profession made always in accordance with c. 580, § 37 96. Did the novices of the monasteries of simple vows, before their first profession of temporary vows, freely make a will in due.: form, valid according to the civil law, regarding their present or future property (c. 569, § 3)? 97. Were any changes in this will which may have been made after profession, made according to c. 583, 2°? . .: 98. Do the superior and council carefully and constan.tly keep-a strict watchfulness as regards admissions? ¯ 99. Has the first profession, after eight 'full .days of spiritual exercises, always been made validly and licitly according to law and the constitutions (cc. 572, 573, 575)? 100. Did the superioresses, two months before admission to the noviceship, and to the first temporary profession, and to perpetual profession, give timely notice to the local ordinary (c. 552, § 1), so that he or his delegate might gratuito.usly conduct the canonical-ex-amination regarding the free and conscious will of the postulant or candidate (c. 552, § 2)?. : 101. Was the prescribed examination always made? ' 102. Is the dowry obligatory, or, on the contrary, is it left en-. tirely or partly optional (c. 547, § 3) ? 262 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT . 103. Was the delivery of .the dowry made according to law (c. 547, § 2) and the constitutions? 104. Were the dowries, immediately after the first profession, always invested by the superioress, with the deliberative vote of her council and the consent of the ordinary of the place where the capi-tal of the dowries is kept (c. 549) ? 105. Were the dowries spent or encumbered in any way before the death of the religious concerned? If so, by what authority Was this done? Were the dowries so spent or encumbered, even though it was done after obtaining lawful permission, afterward restored or cleared of the encumbrance? What is their condition at the present time (c. 549) ? 106. Where and how are the dowries administered? Are the rules of law faithfully observed regarding their administration (cc. 550, 535, § 2)? 107. Is all property which is brought in as dowry, even though it be in excess of the sum required for a dowry in the constitutions or even though there be in ihe congregation no obligation to bring in a dowry, accepted, invested, administered, etc. with the observance of the norms which govern dowries? 108. In case of the departure of a professed religious, for what-ever was needed that she might safely and decently return borne and likewise the personal belongings which t.he novice brought with her at her entrance, in the condition in which they were when she left, restored to the religious departing or transferring~ without the in-come which had a.lready accrued (cc. 551, 570, § 2)? 109. In case of the departure of a professed religious who had been received without a dowry or with an insufficient one, if she was unable to provide for herself out of her own property, did the insti-tute out of charity according to law (c. 643, § 2), give her what-ever was needed thatshe might safely and decently return home and be fittingly supported for a tim~? 110. What, if any, dispensations were necessary for the pro-nouncement of the vows? 111. How many and what sanations-were afterward necessary? 112. Were the temporary vows which are prescribed by law and by the constitutions (c. 574, § 1), when the tittle for which they were taken had elapsed (c. 577, § 1), always renewed according to law (c. 577, § 2), so that no one ever remained without vows? 113. How often was the temporary profession extended beyond 263 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Reoieta for Religious the six-year period allowed by law, and by what authority was this done (c. 574, § 2)? 114. ]Did all the professed of simple vows in orders, within sixty days before their profession of solemn vows, duly make the prescribed renunciation of the property which they actually pos-sessed, in the form of a true cession but not in the form of a will, to whomever they chose, on condition of their future profession (c. 581, § 1)? 115. After the profession was made, were all things immedi-ately done which were necessary in order that the renunciation be effective in civil law (c. 581, § 2) ? 116. Did the superior who received the solemn profession give notice of it to the pastor of baptism in accordance with cc. 470, § 2, 576', § 2? ARTICLE II Concerning the relicjious life and discipline 117. Is perfect common life according'to c. 594, the Rule, and the constitutions observed everywhere? 118. What has been done and is being done positively to safe-guard and promote the virtue and. spirit of poverty? 119. Do superiors and officials, out of religious charity and in order to ward off from the religious occasions of sinning against poverty, provide, within the limits of poverty itself, what is neces-sary and appropriate in the way of food, clothing, and other things? 120. Do they allow the religious to ask for or receive these things from externs? 121. Are the sick and the aged religious, attended to with special care and helped in both body and soul with paternal charity, so that, within the limits of religious poverty, they lack nothi'ng which seems necessary for the recovery ot their .health and for their spir-itual consolation? 122. Did all superiors make it a matter of conscientious duty to be attentively vigilant regarding those things, both in and out of the house, which may easily contain dangers against religious chas-tity ? 123. What kind of cloister is observed? Are the places subject to cloister clearly marked and sufficiently guarded? Are the pre-scriptions of the law and of the constitutions regarding cloister faithfully observed (cc. 589-599; 604) ? 264 ~epte,-nber, 124. frequent, principal 125. 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Were the cases of dispensation from the law of cloister either for going but,- or for entering? Which were the ones? Are difficulties experienced in the observance of cloister, esl~ecially when nuns~ are engaged in the works of the apostolate, of education, etc. ? 126. a) Are the parlors so arranged that what goes on in them ~an be seen from the outside? b) Is the frequency of parlor visits regulated according to the constitutions and religious prudence? 127. Do the rooms which are reserved for chaplains and confeS-sors or preachers have a separate entrance and no internal communi-cation with the quarters of the religious? 128. Is religious discipline observed, and is the,government of superiors made easy by the docility of the subjects? Was it neces-sary often to impose formal precepts in virtue of the vow of obedi-ence? 129. Were such precepts given in due form according to the 'constitutions, and always for a grave reason? 130. Are the Rule and the constitutions faithfully observed (c. 593) ? 131. Are the Rule and the constitutions read publicly at the prescribed times (c. 509, § 2, 1°) ? 132. Do superiors see to it that in all the houses the exercises of piety which are prescribed for every day, every week, every month, every year, or for other fixed times, are faithfully and worthily per-formed according to the constitutions? 133. Do superiors see to it that all the religious: a) Make a retreat every year? b) ,Are present at Mass every day if not legitimately pre-vented ? c) Give themselves to mental prayer every day? d) Attend earnestly to the other offices of piety which are prescribed by the rules and constitutions (c. 595, § 1, 1 ° and 2°) ? 134. Do superiors see to it that all the members are able to be present at community exercises? 135. If choir service is prescribed by the constitutions, is it held exactly and worthily in each of the houses according to the same constitutions and the common law (c. 610, § i), the religious who are bound to choir and not actually lawfully impeded being present? 265 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT 136. Do superiors see to it that priests, clerics in major orders, and the solemnly professed, who were absent from choir, recite the Divine Office privately with attention and devotion (c. 610, § 3) ?. 137. Are the relations between the different members of the house, between superiors and subjects, etc., characterized by a spirit of true charity? 138. Are defects against charity severely corrected? 139. Are superiors watchful that no book~ be used, whether in manuscript or published form, which are not entirely safe? 140. Are the spiritual books which, according to law, the reli-gious use privately, approved by the Church and in keeping with the religious state, and suitable for the spiritual welfare of the indi-vidual ieligious to whom they are permitted? ARTICLE III Concernincj those Who have departed or been dismissed and others who leave the institute 141. a) How many in the house, at the expiration of their. vows, did not renew them, either because they chose not to do so or because they were not allowed to do so? b) How many of the professed of temporary vows were dispensed from their vows during this period, and how many of the professed of perpetual vows were dispensed? 142. Were those who were dispensed from their vows at their own request or with their consent, forced or, without serious and grave reasons and precautions, permitted to leave the religious house before the rescript was duly executed? 143. How many transfers, if any, were there to another insti-tute ? 144. How many apostates and fugitives, if any, were there during the five-year period? 145. a) Since the last report, how many of the professed of temporary vows and how many of the professed of perpetual vows have been dismissed? b) In the dismissal of religious, whether of" temp~[ary or of perpetual vows, were the norms of the common law "('cd." 647, § 2, 4°; 649-672) as well as those of the constitutions observed? Was the same done in regard to not admitting the prqfe~se~l 0f ~emporary vows to the renewal of their vows or to perpetu~il pro-fession (c. 637) ? 266 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT. 146. Were the dismissed of 'temporary vows, while the recourse duly made within ten days was pending (c. 647, § 2; S. C. of Reli-gious, 20 July 1923, AAS, XV [1923], 457), and the dismissed of perpetual vows, before the decree or judgment of dismissal had been confirmed by the Sacred Congregation (cc. 652, 666). forced to leave the institute? 147. What were the cases, and the causes which led to them,, among both the professed of temporary vows and those of per-petual vows, in which they were either sent back to the world on account of grave scandal or very grave harm (cc. 653, 668) or dis-missed by the law itself :(c. 646) ? 148. How many ~ses of exclaustration were there, if any? Were the causes carefull) and conscientiously pondered in the pres-ence of God before the petition was recommended and the rescript executed ? 149. Does the institute take care: a) That indults are renewed in due time, if it seems neces-sary to ask for an extension? b) That the persons who are excloistered lead a worthy religious life and return as soon as possible to the cloister? 150. Do superiors see to it that subjects remain out of the house only for a just and grave reason and for the shortest possible time, according to the constitutions (c. 606, § 2) ? 151. Were 'the prescribed suffrages faithfully and promptly per-formed for all the deceased? " " 152. Do superiors, in accordance with c. 509, § 2, 2°, give to those religious who belong to the class of conversi, instruction in Christian doctrine? And do superiors, carefully attend to the training of these same religious, both before and after their profes-sion, especially during the earlier years, according to the offices~ which are entrusted to them? 153. Do superiors with paternal charity diligently provide also for the bodily health of the conuersi or coadjutors? CHAPTER III C;ONI31:RNING THE WORKS AND MINISTRIES OF THE MONASTERY 154. What works are carried on in the house (apostolate, edu-cation, manual labor for pay) ? 155. Was begging from door to door, according to law 267 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Reoieu2 for Religious (cc. 621, 622) and their own constitutions, done with the required permissions ? 156. Moreover, in begging, were the rules of law (c. 623), the instructions of the Holy See (c. 624), and the norms of the con-stitutions observed ? 157. What precautions are taken in this communication with seculars to avoid harm to the religious and scandal to seculars? 158. How often and by what superiors are the books of Masses of each house examined and signed? 159. As regards the manual stipend of~ Masses, did all the houses obser;ce the decrees of the local ordinaries and the customs of the dioceses according to cc. 831, §§ 2-3; 832? 160. In each of the houses were the obligations of Masses, both perpetual and manual, faithfully satisfied in due time according to cc. 834, 15177 161. Were any special concessions made in this matter, either as regards the reduction of the stipends or intentions, or as to deferring the celebration of the Masses? If so, what were they? CONCLUSION A ~summary compara÷ive judcjmenf recjardln9 fhe stale of fhe monas.fery 162. Is the autonomous monastery or house fully self-sufficient with regard to the personnel needed to fill the various offices of gov-ernment and to carry out its proper work, also with regard to relig-ious formation, as well' as with regard to economic means, so that regular observance can flourish fully? 163. What is to be said about the desire for and the actual striving toward evangelical perfection on the part of the members (cc. 487, 488, 1°) ? 164. In this respect is there in the institute progress.or retro-gression as compared with the preceding five-year period, and how is this manifested or proved? What are the reasons for either the progress or the retrogression? 165. What has been done by superiors during the five-year period to promote the tendency toward perfection and to prevent relaxation? 166. What is to be said summarily about the observance of the: vows and of the provisions of canon law, the Rule, 'and the consti-tutions, both absolutely and in comparison with the preceding five- 268 September, 1954 REGIONAL CONFERENCES AND WORKSHOPS year period ? 167. What are the points of religious discipline which are more easily and frequently violated? I68. What causes may be assigned for the progress in religious observance or for its decline? 169. What has been done by superiors to secure faithful and ~omplete regular observance? 170. As regards capital and finances what is the condition of the house in itself and in comparison v~ith the preceding five-year period ? 171. To what causes is the growth or diminution of capital and income to be attributed ? Given at Rome; from the headquarters of the S. Congregation ~of Religious, December 9, 1948. ALOYSIUS CARD. LAVITRANO, Prefect FR. L. H. PASSETTO, Secretaru REGIONAE CONFERENCES AND WORKSHOPS 1954-55 OF THE CATHOLIC: HOSPITAL AssoCIATION This year's program includes eight such special conferences., The first general subject, The Improvement of Patient Care, is pre-sented for religious in large hospitals on October 4 to 6,.1954, at the Sheraton Hotel,'St. Louis, Missouri. For religious in small hospitals another regional workshop on this subject will be presented Novem-ber 28 to 30, 1954, also at the Sheraton Hotel in St. Louis. Conferences on Medical-Moral Problems are also planned. These special group meetings are presented under the direction of Reverend Gerald Kelly, S.J., of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, con-sultant for the Association's activity in this field. The first is to takd place at St. Michael's Hospital, Grand Forks, North Dakota, October 25 to 27, 1.954. Two others are in the process of development--one for the East. ¯ and another to be held in the Mid-West. Further announcement will be made when this information .is available. On January 17, 18, and 19, 1955, at the Sheraton Hotel in St. Louis, Missouri, there will be a Special Conference for Treasureis (Continued on page 272) ¯, o 269 Questions and Answers 26 Suppose a sister can hear only one Mass on Sunday and during thai' Mass she performs her duty of saying her morning prayer or reading the, Liffle Office: is it possible to fulfill both th~se obligations at one and the same time, according to the mind of the Church? As regards merely the fulfillment of the diverse obligations, there seems to be no difficulty. Even the serious obligation (e.g., of a deacon or subdeacon) of reciting the Divine OtSce in private can be fulfilled while one is hearing a Mass of obligation. Certainly, there-fore, the sister's lesser duties of saying morning prayers or of recit-ing the Little Office can be fulfilled during a Mass of obligation-- unless the constitutions expressly provide otherwise. The "mind of the Church" for religious includes more than the mere fulfillment of obligations; it includes not only what is neces-sary but~ what is appropriate. And in the sense of what is appropri-ate it is certainly the mind of the Church that the prayers prescribed for religious, even when the prescription does not bind under pain of sin, should ordinarily be said at some time other than the 'Sunday Mass of obligation or the weekday community Mass. The saying of such prayers during these Masses should at most be merely by way of exception, e.g., because of the special pressure of other duties. And it seems to us that in these exceptional cases it would be better to follow the Mass in the usual way and to omit the other prayers. If conditions become such that tl'iis "pressure pf other duties" is habitual and not merely exceptional, then superiors should see to it that these ~otber duties are lessened so that their subjects have time for their prayers: --27m If one is rushed at confession time and in the confusion fails to make an act of contritlon.in.the confessional, is the confession invalid? True contrition is certainly necessary for valid absolution; and' according to most theologians some external manifestation of this contrition is also required for validity. But this external manifesta-tion of contrition does not have to be according to any .set formula,. nor does it even have to be expressed in words. A dolorosa confes- 270 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS sio--tbat is, confession itself when sincerely made with a view to receiving absolution by one who, has internal sorrow-~-is~a suffi'cient external sign of the contrition; and absolution given to one who has made such a confession is certainly valid. It is true that we should always train the faithful to make a verbal act of contrition in the confessional, after having confessed their sins. But the making of this verbal act is rather a matter of good procedure--and for some people a means of being sure ot: the requisite expression of sorrow--than an absolute essential As for the case proposed in the question: we would tell any sin-cere religious or devout lay person that the absolution was undoubt-. edly valid and tbat there is no reason for anxiety. --28-- Is a sister superior justified in insisting that her subjects must not drink water before Holy C;ommunion unless there is some real necessity for doincj so? Accordin~ to the ApOstolic Constitution Christus Dominus plain water no longer breaks the Eucharistic fast. No reason either of nec_essity or even of special utility is required for drinking water before Holy Communion. Consequently, a religious superior is no more justified now in insisting that subjects should not drink water without necessity after midnight than she would have been justified before .3anuary 16, 1953, in insisting that subjects should not drink water without necessity before midnight. m29D Is it ever permissible to receive Hob/ Gommunlon without flrs~ cjo[ncj to confession when one has committed a mortal sin? Canon 856 states that one who is conscious of having committed a mortal sin shouldnot receive'Holy Communion without first go-ing to confession. This is the ordinary rule. The canon adds, bow-ever, that in a case of urgent necessity, when there is no opportunity of going to confession, one may receive Holy Comunion after having made an act of perfect contrition. There are many aspects to this question; and all of them require careful explanation. For such explanation the questioner is referred to the article "Confession befo*re Communion," in REVIEW FOR RE-LIGIOUS, XII (May, 1953), 135-50. : 271 Q~JESTIONS AND ANSWERS Re~;iew lot Religious --30-- /. If one is in doubt about having given the consent necessary-'for a mortal sin, is it preferable to abstain from Holy Communion until one can get to confession? Generally speaking, it is not preferable.to omit Holy commun-ion; although it might be preferable in some cases, e.g., b~cause a person has a special proneness to laxity. The proper judge c~f such a case is the spiritufil director or confessor of that person. Although it is certainly not obligatory and generally not even preferable to omit Holy Communion because of a do.ubt; yet it is at least advisable--and in our opinion obligatory--for one who has d really solid doubt (and not a mere scruple) about having committed a mortal sin to take some reasonable means of making sure he is in the state of grace before he receives Holy Communion. In the case proposed in the question a reasonable means would be to make an act of perfect contrition for all one's sins, including the doubtful matter. This problem of doubt is also explained more fully in the article referred'to in the preceding question, pp. 139-40. Regional Conferences and Workshops (Continued from page 269) and General Accountants of Religious Groups Conducting Hospi: tals. This particular meeting is especially planned by the Assoda-tion's Council on Financial Management and will focus upon poli-cies, techniques, and procedures involved in the handling of financial affairs of these groups. Other meetings for special groups have also been scheduled. These include a Conference on Collegiate Programs in Nursing Edu-cation at the Sheraton Hotel, St. Louis, February 19 to 21, 1955; a Conference on Accounting for Administration (especially for the small hospital) at the Hotel Piedmont, Atlanta, Georgia, April 18 to 19, 1955; the Western Conference of Catholic Hospitals is spon-soring a Workshop on Purchasing for Hospital Purchasing Officers on April 23 to 24, 1955, at St. Mary's Hospital, San Francisco: also a Conference on Public Relations for Administrators and Public Rela2 tions Officers of Catholic Hospitals--April 23 to 24, 1955, also St. Mary's Hospital, San Francisco, California. 272 THE NEW TESTAMENT. By James A. Klelst, S.J., and Joseph M. Lilly, C.M. The Bruce Publlshln9 Co., Milwaukee. 1954. Pp. bg0. $5.00. The work of Fathers Kleist and Lilly as presented in this book is a marked example of the progress which Scriptural studies in general and New Testament efforts in particular have made in the last fifty years. A quarter of a century ago, appreciating the ad~ vances scholarship had made in the study of the post-classical Greek language as well as in Hellenistic civilization, Father Kleist surmised that the gospels translated from the Greek of that period might convey to the Christian reader a better understanding of Christ's life and message than could be derived from the more or less slavish ren-dition from the Latin Vulgate into quite antiquated English phrase-ology which was' all.tbat the Catholic reader had; he considered that such a translation would afford Catholics the opportunity, in a prac-tical way, of realizing the hope whicb the Church was expressing-- namely that her members should read the Bible more assiduously. He set himself to that task, and the result of his labors makes up nearly half of the present volume. The gospel translation is in clear, flowing, modern literary Eng-lish; it conveys the G/~eek thought accurately. To achieve this ac-curacy the translation interprets the meaning of words and phrases, uses synonyms for the same Greek word to bring out the shades of thought, employs expressions which do not require the learning of a theologian or of an expert exegete to grasp. The word pneutna, for example, is not always translated by "spirit" and the passages in which this word occurs are so well phrased that no commentary is required to explain them. Thus: "Blessed are the poor in spirit" (Mr. 5:3) becomes, "Blessed are the humble souls"; "And sighing deeply in spirit" (Mk. 8:12) becomes, "He sighed from the depths of his soul"; "When Jesus saw the Jews weeping .he grbaned in spirit and was troubled" (Jo. 11:33) becomes, "The sight of them stirred Jesus deeply and shook his inmost soul." There is a pleasing, natural ease, simplicity, and spontaneity throughout the translation. Christ's Words are not, "Woman, thou art delivered from thy in-firmity" (Lk. 13:12), but, "My good woman, you are now rid of your infirmity." Notabl.yhappy is the rendition of 3o. 3:8 which, 273 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious instead of, "So is everyone who is born of the Spirit," reads, "Some-thing like this takes place in everyone born of the Spirit." What~- ever notes are appended to the gospels are the work of Rev. Henr~; Willmering, S.J., New Testament professor at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. The notes are always pointed, clear, concise. All the rest of the translation in this volume is the product of Father Lilly. Emboldened by the various encyclicals on Biblical studies from Leo XIII to Pius XII, his experience as a seminary" professor ot: Sacred Scripture indicating the need of a good transla-tion from the Greek, Father Lilly generously undertook to do all the rest of the New Testament, a task which Father Kleist had said he would never venture to do~ Father Lilly succeeded admirably in his efforts. He concentrated his best energies on the letters of the Apos-tles; only secondarily did he give consideration to the narrative of the Acts of the Apostles. The result is that this narrative does not vary in any notable way from the Confraternity translation, for the phraseology of the two translations is often identical. But in the letters and in the Apocalypse, Father Lilly took greater liberty to clarify the meaning of the texts. A few instances of his excellent work may be here cited: "Who have the fathers, and from whom is the Christ according to the flesh," he expresses as, "The patriarchs are theirs, and from them has been derived the human nature of Christ" (Rom. 9:3). The less intelligible wording of "the work of each will be made manifest, for the day of the Lord will declare. it, since the day is to be revealed in fire. The fire will assay the quality of everyone's work: if his work abides which he has built thereon, he will receive reward; if his work burns he will lose his. reward, but himself will be saved, yet so as through fire" (1 Cor. 3:13-15) is clarified thus: "Each individual's work will be made manifest. The day will make it known because fire will lay it bare, and will test the quality of each individual's work. If the work any-one has put into the superstructure stands firm, he will be rewarded, but if anyone's work is burned up, he will suffer a loss, yet he him-self will be saved, though only by passing, so to speak, through fire." Simple sentences and expressions are expertly turned. Apoc. 4:2 may serve as one example: "Immediately I was in the spirit, and behold there was a throne in heaven," gets this phrasing: "Suddenly I was thrown into an ecstacy. To my surprise, there was a throne set up in heaven." This book is the latest and till~ now the best product of a happy I 27.4 September, 1934 BOOK REVIEWS tendency to which New Testament studies have been yielding in recent years amongst Catholic'English-speaklng scholars. It is a co-ordinated result of two lines of modern effort: to translate from tile Greek rather than from the Latin ~Vulgate, and secondly, to make the translations interpretative rather than rigidly literal. In 1901 Father Seymour Hobart Spencer, O.P., laid a milestone when he translated the four gospels from the Greek; before he died in 1913 he had finished the entire New Testament. Not until 1937, how-ever, was his entire opus published for the first time. Leo XIII's Providentissimus Deus lent spark to this line of effort, and in the 1930s the Westminster Version of the New Testament from the Greek appeared. Both Father Spencer, however, and the Westminster translators employed a prudent restraint in their venturesome task. They kept themselves considerably constrained and adhered largely to literalness in their translations. Yet there was a kind of restiveness arising amongst scholars to offer a translation which would be quite sufficiently interpretative and would' not require much comment of exegetes to explain the meaning of the text. This restiveness began to assert itself in the 1940s. It chose as the object on which it could exercise itself the Latin Vulgate and the reason for this choice was that the more in- .terpretative translation could be read at the Catholic church services. In 1941 the Confraternity translation of the New Testament ap-peared in the United States, and its purpose was rather to modernize antiquated expressions than to translate with the freedom which interpretation requires; but three years later Msgr. Ronald Knox published his work in England with a freedom and ease of phrase-ology hitherto unemployed, modestly interpreting the meaning of the Vulgate. Both these translations, as well as those from the Greek mentioned above, were quite well accepted generally, though in cer-tain circles they did suffer severe criticism. There was something of heroism, tberefore, in carrying out to completion the present work, since this volume, no doubt, will be criticized for precisely the two characteristics which make it a sign of true advancement in .scholarship: it is a translation from the Greek; it is made with a considerable amount of freedom to express in an interpretative Catholic way what the inspired authors of the New Testament are trying to say. The book seems to be a must in the libraries of theologians, scholars, exegetes, priests, and laymen who are" interested in understanding the New Testament. It is not, 275 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious however, the last product of the trend from which it evolved. Some future translator from the Greek may interpert more easily and more clearly passages like 1 Cor. 7:29-35; 9:24-27; 10:29 and 30; but that must await the time when Catholic readers will have become more adjusfed to having a clear, expository text before them to ponder. The present work will help toward that adjustment and is paving the way toward the entrance of the Word of God into the hearts of men.--EDWARD J. HODOUS, S.J. THE CHURCH AND INFALLIBILITY. By Dom B. C. Buffer. Sheed and Ward, New York. 1954. Pp. 230. $3.50. Back in 1889 Dr. George Salmon, Provost ok Trinity College, Dublin, published The Infallibility of the Church, a celebrated pole-mical work in which he vigorously attacked and in the minds of many contemporary Protestant readers thoroughly demolished the "Roman" position on the nature of infallibility, the primacy and infallible teaching authority of the Roman Pontiff, and the legiti-macy if tradition as a font of divine revelation. Two years ago an abridged edition of this work came from the press, and it is in the hope of breaking a lance or two with the "abridged Salmon" that the Abbot of Downside, Dora Christopher Butler, a frequent and gifted contributor to The Downside Review, has e'ntered the lists with the book here under r'eview. It will be no surprise to those who know Dom Butler's profi2 ciency in the field of Patristics and Early Church History to dis-cover that in this altogether irenic rebuttal the Abbot of Downside has time after time driven home through the chinks in Dr. Salmon's armor, chinks that have been in not a few places widened consider-ably by the scientific findings and the more balanced historical eval- .uations of the past fifty years. If the work will prove an ornament to the apologetic section of the school or community library, it may still be said (and I think that Dom Christopher would be the first to agree) that the book is not intended as an organized positive ex-position of the Church's infallibility, its meaning, its necessity, its causes, its organs; nor despite its clarity of presentation and cogency of argumentation will it supply for such an exposition. The reader destined to profit most from the book will be the reader who has already a firm grip on the fundamental principles of the th.eology of the Church, her organization and doctrinal mission. -~S. E. DONLON, S.J: 2 6. September, 1954 BOOK REVIEWS MARY IN OUR LIFE. By William G. Most, Ph.D.P.J. Kenedy and Sons, New York. 19S4. Pp. 323. $4.00. Mar~l in our Life was first written as a series of chapters for Mariology study clubs at Loras College, where the author is associ-ate professor of classical languages. It has the double merit, there-fore, of being instructive in subject matter and at the same time per-sonal and direct in its manner of presentation. The body of the book is divided into twenty-three chapters of about ten pages each that range over a wide area of patristics, dogma, ascetics, and liturgy in their bearing on the general theme that "since God has given Mary an all-pervading place in His scheme for the redemption of man, it follows that if we wish to grow in love of God . . . we will give Mary a corresponding place in our soul-life." Chapter titles like The Popes and Co-redemptrix, Mary on Calvary, Mystical Rose, Spouse of the Holy Spirit, Marian Visions and Revelations suggest the balance of doctrine and devotion which the writer set himself to achieve. The strictly dogmatic section cov-ers the first sixty-five pages, in which the main purpose is to analyse the recent papal statements on Mary's place in the economy of sal-vation. In the remaining fifteen chapters, the principles of the spiritual life are explained in their relation to the Mother of God as the perfect model of sanctity and the channel of all graces. The longest chapter in the book, Pondering in Our Hearts with Mary, is an earnest apologia for the practice of mental prayer among the laity, in imitation of the Blessed Virgin, "whose communion with God in mental prayer or meditation was constant." Eminently prac-tical, it is intended to answer the objection that "Formal meditation may be all right for priests and religious, but how could a working man or woman or a housewife manage to undertake so complex an exercise?" Each chapter is followed by a set of notes, up to several pages in length, which give the sources for the quotations used and further explanation of various problems in the text. Particularly commendable is the frequent use of primary sources, e.g., from the Fathers, papal documents, and writings of the saints. By actual count, there are 530 reference notations, with an emphasis on mod-ern writers such as Garrigou-Lagrange. The latter part of the book contains an Appendix and a set of Questions for Discussion. The Appendix supplies a certain amount of documentary detail that was properly omitted from the body of the book, for example, a llst of passages from the Fathers on the 277 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious New Eve, papal texts on the question of Mary's Co-redemption of the human race, St. Dominic as author of the Rosary, and the his-toricity of the vision of St. Simon Stock. The Questions for Dis-cussion are intended for private, class, or study-dub use. Approxi-mately two hundred questions, answerable from the text, are pointed to arousing ~houghtful reflection: for instance, "Did Mary merit to be the Mother of God? . . . Is devotion to Mary optional?" As an instance of the mature balance which characterizes the en-' tire book may be cited the treatment of Marian Visions and Revela-tions. With scores of possible pitfalls, the author carefully dis-tinguishes the meaning and necessity of private and public revela-tion, explaining that "ali the means that we need for salvation are contained in public revelation." Some people, he complains, practi-cally identify their devotion to the Mother of God with recounting the stories of visions and revelations. "On the other hand, through the right attitude we can derive great value from the messages given to us by Our Lady in such genuine apparitions as those at Lourdes and Fatima," whose genuinity is attested by the Church's official ap-proval.-- JOHN A. HARDON, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS BRUCE PUBLISHING CO., 400 N. Broadway, Milwaukee 1, Wis. The Catholic College in the World Today. By Edward A. Fitzpatrick. The author, retiring president of Mount Mary College, here weaves into book form a series of addresses about Catholic col-lege education. He stresses the opportunity of the Catholic college to leaven present-day American culture with the riches of Catholic cul-ture, particularly its emphasis on moral and spiritual values and its focus on the importance of the individual. He looks to crusading graduates to assume their manifest duty to carry out this mission. Pp. 269. $6.00. His Heart in Our Work. Thoughts for a Priestl~t Apostolate. Edited by Francis L. Filas, S.J. This book is a collection of articles selected from Alter Christus, the periodical published from 1937 to 1950 as an American quarterly bulletin of The League of Sacerdotal Sanctity. Although the essays here presented were originally meant for priests, to provide them with material for meditation and with exhortation in their work, still they will benefit religious .and others 278 September: 1954 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS as well. The brevity of the articles (few run over five pages) and the pleasing variety of subjects included (Holy Spirit, Sacred Heart, B1. Virgin, St. Joseph, Apostolate, Prayer, Virtues, Liturgy) m

Issue 12.3 of the Review for Religious, 1953. ; Bellarmine and t:he Queen ot: Virgins John A. Hardon, S.J. ST. ROBERT BELLARMINE is widely known in theological circles as the great champion of the Papac, y. At the Vatican Council, h~s Controoersies.were the principal source from which the assembled fathers formulated the definition of papal infallibility. An.d in 1931, when the Holy See declared him a Doctor of the Church, he was described as "The Prince of Apologists and Strong Defender of the Cathoiic Faith, not only for his own time but for all future ages." But Bellarmine has another title to glory, seldom pointed out, which should endear him in a special way to priests and religious who are directors of souls. St. Robert was for years the spiritual counsel-i " lor and confessor of St: Aloysius Gonzaga, to the day of the latter's death in 1591. So attached was Bellarmine to his spiritual son that he was largely responsible for his early beatification, which he lived to see, and asked to be buried near the body of his "caro Luigi" as a perpetual remembrance of their mutual affection. Pope Benedict XV was sufficiently impressed by this circumstance that he proposed, "for the imitation of confessors, the prudence of that 'wisest of spiritual directors, Robert Bellarmine, who moderated ev'en the' penitential ardor of St. Aloysius Gonzaga." St. Aloysius is the heavenl~ patron of Catholic youth, ahd the chosen exemplar of heroic chastity. We should 'not be surprised, therefore, if his spiritual director was personally so much devoted to the Immaculate Mother of Virgins that be drew from her life and example the inspiration which he transmitted to Aloysius. Bellarmine once wrotethat, "Every great man in the Church has been most de-voted to the Blessed Virgin Mary: Ephrem, Bernard, Dominic, Fran-cis of Assisi"--and we may now add, as the following sketch will show, Robert Bella~rmine, the spiritual father of Aloysius Gonzaga. Bellarmine's Personal Devotion to the Mother of God . St. Robert w~is devoted, to the Blessed Virgin fr6m his earliest years. According to his schoolmate, later Canon Vincent PatiucheIli, as a young boy Bellarmine used to recite daily the Office of the Bles- 113 JOHN A. HARDON sed Virgin, often in company with Vincent as the two of them walked slowly ~long the road. Bellarmine retained this custom of reciting the Ottice of Our Lady throughout life. In the same way he kept the custom to his old age of ~aily saying the Rosary. ,~Iexander Jacobelli, who was the cardinal's almoner for twenty years, testified at the beatification process that, "He ~never omitted saying the ~OfIice and thd Rosary of the Blessed. V!rgin Mary, during which he. was often found melted in tears." " HOwever, Robert .was not satisfied with only a single recitation of the.Rosary. The beads were Iite~a!ly his constant companion. In the words of his chaplain, "when fatigued with study, Bellarmine would find recreation in reciting the beads wiih uncovered head:'.' And again, "his relaxation was to say the Rosary of O~r Lady.". On his frequent journeys as Archbishop of Capua, attendants noticed that he always followed the same "ritual: celebrate Mass, say the Itinerarium,' and, rosary in hand, enter the carriage for the journey. Juan de Serayz, a close friend of Robert, has left some interesting details on bow Bellarmine would say.the Rosary. It was June 14, 1618, the feast of Corpus Christi, th~it Bellarmine and Juan were returning from a procession at St. Peter's Basilica-. "As we got int9 the carriage," relates Juan. "he told me that he was ablb to say the third part of the Rosary exactly three times, from the time the pro-cession left the Sistine Chapel to where it finally ended at the Altar of Exposition in St. Peter's When I asked him, out of curiosity, hbw he said the Rosary, he told me that he separated the decades of the Angelic Salutation with an Our-Fathe.r, adding to eacB decade a short prayer corresponding to the different mysteries, .and preceding the decades with a short meditation on the following mystery. Then with emphasis he said that he recited the Hail Mary's sJow.l~l, s!owl~l. When I observed that this did not leave much time for keeping his partner company, he answered that during the whole procession he did not say a single word to his~ cardinal companion." We can understand, therefore, how painful were the doctor's Or-ders during Bellarmine's last illness, when he was forbidden not only to say the Breviary but also the Rosary. . For, as his brother explained, the doctor knew with what ardor and devotion he applied himself to these prayers: Finally, the doctor was moved by ~he dying man's pleas an.d mitigated the orders first given to the servant, allowing'the sick man "a moderate use'of the Rotary," although everyone knew that, "his intense application to this prayer would'be a great strain 1!4 'Ma~/, 1953 BELLARMINEAND MARY upon him." To the Office and the Rosary, Bellarmine added the Saturday fast in Mary's honor. He fasted th'ree days a week with the same. rigor that he kept the Lenten fast, that is, most strictly. According.to a syllogism which he wrote on the subject, he argued in this way: Our justice should be greater than that of the Pharisees. Matt. 5/20. But the Pharisees fasted two days a week. Luke 18/12. Therefore, I should fast at least three days a week! So besides the fasts for the vigils and the Lenten fast, and besides the whole of Advent, he kept a sacred fast on Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday of each week. That he kept the Saturday fast in honor of Our Lady is clear from the Sermon which he gave on one occasiofi for the feast of the Immaculate Conception, when he said that among the practices most pleasing to the Blessed Virgin and her Divine Son, and most useful to grow in their, love and friendship, is the daily recitation of the Rosary and the Saturday fast in Mary's honor. It was only under express orders,from hi~ confessor ~o fas~ only twice~a week, that in his old age Bellarmine relinquished ~he Saturday fast. Bellarmine and the Immaculate" Conception According to available evidence, Robert Bellarmine was the first bishop of the Catholic Church to have formally petitioned the Holy See for a definition of the Immaculate Conception. It was made while he was serving as cardinal member, of the Congregation of the Inquisition. The petition is dated August 31, 1617, and carried two main questions: Is the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin definable doctrine; and is it expedient at the present ,time to define this doctrine? Then follow three thousand words of careful theoiogical exposition and answering of objections, calculated to break down the resistance of ~ertain critics in the Roman Curia. One of the reasons whch Bellarmine gives in favor of the defini-tion is especially revealing. "It is possible," he says, "for a mere creature to be without an~i sin. Such, .for example, a~e the good angels in heaven. Consequently, the ~ame must be true of the Virgin Mother of God, who is more .pure than the angels. Otherwise she would be less pure than the angels, at least by the presence of sin. For tru.e purity consists of two qualities: absence of sin and nearness to God." The point is that if Our Lady is more pure than the angels in closeness to God, which all admit, then she is also as pure as they 115 ,JOHN A. HARDON Review for Religious in the absence of sin, since purity comprehends both qualities with-out discrimination. St. Robert's devotion to the immaculate Conception is also at- . tested by the number of sermons which he preached on this preroga-tive of the Mother of God. Besides other testimony, there are two extant letters which Bellarmine wrote on the subject i one in 1617 to an English priest, and another in 1618 to Philip III of Spain, in both of which he promised to do everything in his power to promote the defense of the Immaculate Conception. Juan de Serayz, previously quoted, testified at the Beatification Process that Bellarmine bad a singular devotion to the Immaculat~ Conception. After this general statement, h~ added that, "his de-votion was manifested in all the Roman Congregations on which the Cardinal served. And relative to. this question, he often told me that he would not rest until the doctrine was defined. ' 'There is no. need of convoking a General Council in this matter,' he said, 'since the Pontiff can easily pronounce the definition by means of a papal b~ll.' " It is significant that when Pius IX defined the dogma in 1854, he did so without convoking a General Council and by means of a papal bull, exactly as BeIlarmine had suggested. It was Bellarmine's mind that the definition of the Immaculate Conception in his own day was not only opportune but even neces-sary, as he wrote to King Philip, "to remove the terrible scandals which are daily committed against the 1donor of God and with such danger to the the souls of the faithful." Only two months before his death, Bellarmine was still 'urging the cherished definition. On August 1, 1621, says the chronicle,. St. Robert engaged the Holy Father in a long conversation, and frankly told him that if he were Pope he would not hesitate immedi-ately to define the Immaculate Conception, s~eeing no obstacle what-ever standing in the, way. st. John Berchmans died on August 13, 1621. Shortly after his death, Bellarmine heard of the vow which John had made, signed with his own blood, and declaring: "I, John Berchmans, unworthy son of the Society of Jesus, promise thee and thy Son . . . that until death I, will ever declare and defend thy Immaculate Conception." When the aged cardinal was informed of this "fact, he exclaimed: "What a marvelous act of devotion! What aningenious expression of love, written in his own blood! What he says is most certainly true; I am sure he was inspired to this action by Our Lady herself. 116 MaR, 1~53 BELLARMINEAND MARY For just now in Flanders, while others ,are attacking Mary's honor, this young man from Flanders has been chosen by the Mother of God to defend her." Bellarmine was referring to the forerunners of 3ansenism at Louvain, who were teaching that, "No one except Christ is without original sin. Consequently the Blessed Virgin died because of the sin which she had contracted from Adam." Bellarmine and the Annunciation Cardinal Orsini rec'alled that one year he happened to stop at the Jesuit Novitiate in Rome on March 25th, where Bellarmine' was making the Spiritual Exercises. That.morning, the latter's medita-tion had" been on the Annunciation of Our Lady, and when Orsini called on his friend, Bellarmine immediately began to talk about the sublime'mystery .with such fervor and clarity that his visitor was convinced "he had received a special illumii~ation from God that very morning/' It may be noted also that all his life Bellarmine delighted to mention that he was ordained to the priesthood on Holy Satur-day, ,March 25, 1570, and therefore had the privilege of celebrating his first Mass in honor of Our Lady's Annunciation. Since one of the main points of opposition by the Protestants was clerical celibacy and religious chastity, Bellarmine 'took every occasion to defend this traditional practice of the Catholic Church. There are tl~ree complete sets of sermbns which Bellarmine preached for the feast of the Annunciation, and in several of them he took as his theme the Virginity of the Mother of God, stressing the sublimity of this privilege and the example it affords for our imitation. Thus on one occasion he is commenting on the words, "And Mary said to the angel: 'How shall this be done, because I know not man?' " and explains: "The obvious implication of these words' is that Mary had not only chosen to be a virgin but that she had confirmed her choice by vow. According 'to St. Augustine, the Blessed Virgin would never have spoken this gray to the angel unless she had already vowed her-self as a virgin to God. "Can we imagine a greater courage than Mary's, when she made this choice of a virginal life? Even in our own day, it is no small thing to preserve oneself i'n untainted virginity after we have been taught the dignity ofthis state of life by Christ Himself, after St.Paul has clearly recommended it to us, after the Fathers of the Church have given it unstinted praise, and after so many thousands of people 117 JOHN A. HARDON Re~ietu [.or Religious of both ~exes have embraced the life of,celibacy and kept it inviolate until death. How. remarkable it is, therefore, that the Virgin Mary should have aspired to the palm of this virtue although she had been given no precept to that effect by God, had received no counsel, and the only example" she had to follow was the disrepute in which vir-ginity was held by everyone around her." Bellarmine and the" Assumption Among the lon,gest sermons that Bellarmine preached are three for the feast of the Assumption, which he gave at Louvain in St. Michael's Church: In Rome at the titular Church of Our Lady of the Way; and in the Cathedral Church at Capua, as Archbishop, in t 1604. It is worth noting tfiat the fifteenth of August was one of the six feast days each year ~vhen all the servants and attendants of Car-dinal Bellarmine were obliged to go to Confession and receive the Hol~r Eucharist. St. Robert would himself distribute Holy Com-munion to his cardinalatial family, at the Mass'which b~ "said~ for their intention. Two other of these six days "of.precept" were March twenty-fifth and December the eighth. In,the first of his sermons on the Assumption, Bellarmine returns to his favorite theme in relation to the Mother of God: her spotless p,urity. Contemporary witnesses record thht many of his listeners at Louvain were English Protestants, who crossed the Channel to Bel-gium just to hear him speak. ' "The Mother of Jesus," they were told, "was the first woman in history to have consecrated her virginity to God. She was the first to have pointed out the path of chastity which leads to the highest sanctity. It is common doctrine that no one, either man or woman, bad ever taken a vow of virginity before the Blessed Virgin Mary. ~ "Add to this the ~act that Mary, alone of all others before or after, united the state of virginity with the holy state of matrimony, in the truest and fullest sense of the word. For other virgins may be said to contract marriage only in a restricted sense, in that they be-come spiritually espoused to the Person bf Christ. "But most remarkable of all, she alone joined virginity of body and soul with true progeny, and such progeny as ~vould make her the Mother of God. Other virgins, it is true, are also not without chil-dren, when, by their example, prayers and exhortations, they bring sinners back to God and thus increase the number of the elect. And it not infrequently happens that the unmarried in God's'Church are 118 May, 1953 ~BELLARMINEAND MARY more fruitful in this regard than those who are married, as witness St. Catherine of Siena, St. Clare, and others. However,' with the sole except.ioa of the Blessed Virgin, none of them could at the same ' time remain virgins and also give birth to a natural offspring. All"of which must finally be attributed to a special ~race of God, and also, let us not forget, to the free choice of Mary, who chose to take a vow of virginity, to take a human spouse, and who chose to become the Mother of 'God." The Blessed Virgin in the Apostolate Bellarmine instinctively apl~aled to the virtues of the Mother of God, whenever he urged consecrated religious to the more faithful f~racti.ce of their profession. ~While he was Archbishop of Capua,,for example, a convent, of nuns which he had reformed, was accused of receiving only applicants of noble birth. When. investigatibn showed that the charge was true, St. Robert addressed .to the Sisters of San Gi'ovanni one of the longest letters Which he ever wrote. Following the lead of St.Augustine, Bellarmine praised the Sis-ters for 'consecrating their virginity to Almighty God. He implied that in so doing they were admirably imitating the, chastit~y of the Blessed Virgin Mary, becoming "the affianced of the Lord." But he also suggested that chastity is not enough, unless it is coupled with true humility. "Religious life," he told them, "cannot'co-exist with the spirit of the world, nor can ,it be ruled by it, bu~t by the Spirit of God aloiae. The spirit of the world makes accbunt of nobility and wealth, but the Spirit'of God esteems virtue and holin~s~ of life above everything else." Taking this for granted, he continues: "I thought that the nuns of San Giovanni would have really laid aside the spirit of the world, and have gone out from it not less in body than in soul." NOw (he pointed shaft: "If the Blessed Virgin were on earth and wanted to become a nun, she would never be able to get itito ~;our convent, being a carpenter's wife . This will show you in what favor you will be with the Queen' of Heaven and her "Divine Son, if you persist in such a spirit of worldly'vanity." And he con, cl'udes that, "We must nbt try' to impose our ideas on the.Holy Ghost, debarring Him from calling to His service those whom He pleases," seeing that He chose the humble Virgin Mary to become the Mother of God. Also when exhorting his own religious brethren in Rome t6 the practice of perfect chastity, he counselled them'to "be vigilant over 119 JOHN A. HARDON Review for Religious the first movements of the senses, which is easy~ because then the pas-sions are still weak and a man is strong and able to resist."' Undoubt-edly this means a constant war on our concupiscence, literally. "bearing the cross in our bodies." But in this. religious have the ex-ample of the saints to imitate, notably St. Luke, "whose friendship and familiarity with the Blessed Virgin Mary made him an ardent lover of Christ,~' for whose sake, and with the help of whose Mothe~ he was able to carry the cross faithfully until death. Also outside the cloister, on at leastone occasion, Bellarmine ap-pealed to the purity of the Mother of God in asking for a favor from the Pope himself. In the city of Ro~e, nea'r the Cardinal's titular church of Our Lady of the Way, was a public house of ill repute, which Bellarmineconsidered an insult to the Church. First he tried to do something privately, and when that failed, he wrote a letter to the Sovereign Pontiff, in which he begged, "by the love which Your Holiness has fob the most pure Virgin Mary," to see that this nui-sance was re_moved. Needless to say, his request was promptly granted. Bellarmine's Hymn to Mary the Virgin Among St. Robert's extant writings there is a short poem of twenty stanzas ~;hicb he composed in the nature of a Litany to the Blessed Virgin. The text was first published in Italian some fifty years ago, and to th6 best of l~he writer's knowledge, has never been translated into English. Each verse-line begins with the name "Virgin,~" joined to a title and petition to Our Lady, starting with the letter "A" and going down the Italian alighabet to "V". Tfius the first seven verses begin with the invocation: "'Vergine adorna . . . Vergine bella . . . Vergine casta . . . V.ergin( degna . . . Vergine eletta Vergine felice,. . . Vergine gradita . . ." A free translation of this tribute to the Virgin Mother reads as follows: "Virgin Virgin Virgin Virgin Virgin adorned and clothed with the sun, grant me thine aid. most beauti'ful, mystical rose, take abode in my heart. most chaste, all undefiled, grant me true peac~. deser;cing of all honor and praise, give ine thy love. elect and full of all grace, lead me to God. Virgin most .blessed, star of the sea, dispdl the storms .besetting ' me. Virgin most virtuous, holy and swdet, show me the way. Virgin illustrious, with thy burning light, enlighten thou my mind. 120 May, 1953 BELLARMINEAND MARY Virgin more precious than jewels or gold, make reparation for me. Virgin most worthy of all praise, mother, daughter, and im-maculate spouse. Virgin and Mother, make me more pleasing to Jesus thy' Son, Virgin most innocent of any stain or fault, make me more worthy of God. Virgin enriched with every gift and grace, obtain the remission of my sins. Virgin most pure, grant me" to enjoy the bliss of hehvenly love. Virgin, thou lily ambng thorns, I pray thee for the grace of a happy death. Virgin more rare than the rarest dream, bring joy to my heart, Virgin so great there is none like thee on earth, bring peace to my soul. Virgin most true, loving Mother too, Virgin Mary." ST. CLARE PLAY BY A POOR CLARE Candle in Umbria is the story of Saint Clare of Assisi told in a verse play by a Poor Clare Nun. The play of four acts, eight scenes is suitable for production by college students or by high schools with.special direction. The play was writt¢~l to honor the fohndress of the Poor Clares on the seventh centenary (1953) of her. death. The author is a regular contibutor to Spirit magazine. $I.00 per copy, including the music for the "Canticle of the Sun" which is embodied in the play. Those interested in obtaining a copy of this production should write to: Poor Clare Monastery, Route I, Box 285 C, Roswell, New Mexico. SUMMER SESSIONS Loyola University of Chicago announces several courses in theology scheduled expressly for Sisters during the coming summer session, Jtine 29 to August 7. Th'e Rev. James I. O'Connor, S.J., a canonist from West Baden, Indiana, will conduct an institlate" on Canon Law for Religious (Theol. 298). The Rev. Edward J. Hodous, S.J., a professor of Scripture at West Baden, will give a course on the Letters of St. Paul (Theol. 216). An authority on St. Joseph and author of several books on the saint, the Rev. Francis L. Filas, S.J., is giving a course on the History and Tbeology of the Devotion to St. Joseph (Theol. 253). For further information write to the Rev. L, J. Evett, S.J., Loyola Univet;sity, 820 N. Michi-yah'Ave., Chicago 26, lllinois. 121 Canonical Visi :at:ion ot: t:he Local Ordinary Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. ONE of the many obligations imposed on bishops is that,of vis-it! n.g their dioceses. Canon 343. § 1 commands a bishop to visit all or part of his diocese each year in such a way that the entire diocese is visited at least within every five-year period. The importance of the visitation is evident from the fact that a metropoli-tan is to. report to the Roman Pontiff: a suffragan bishop who has gravely neglected his duty of ,i.sitation. In such a case, the metro-politan himself, after obtaining the approval of the Holy See, may make the v.lsitatio.n.1 The Ordinary's visitation of religious is significant part of .'this general visitation. At least one author states absolutely that his, obligation of making the canonical visitation religious is serious.~ All religious are subject to the visitation except those that are exempt, who are to be visited only in the cases expressly. mentioned in the law.3 The specific legislation on the Ordinary°visitation of religious is found in can~ 512, It is more oractical confine this articld to his visitation of the religious community, distinguished from! its works, and to lay institutes, that is, congrega-tions of brothers a~nd sisters and orders of nuns. 1. Congregations of Brothers and Sisters . 1. Person of.the uisitor. Canon 512 prescribes that the visitation of religious is to ble made by the local Ordina'ry personally or through a delegate. The term local Ordinary includes a residential bishop, vicar or prefect apostohc, and an abbott or prelate nullius. Unlike the law on the ghneral visitation of the diocese, can. 512 gives the'l Ordinary full liberty to make the v,sitation personally or through" delegated visitors;'| The vicar or delegate of the Ordinary for reli-g, ous has vls~torial powers only if these have been expressly assigned to h~m by the O~dmary. When many priests are delegated for the visitation, it appears to be the prefeiable and more efficient practice to assign houses of the-same institute to a particular delegate, as far as lCan, 3431 § 3: 27~4;'4°, 5°. ZToso, 48; Cf. Coronata. p. 654. nora 5. SCan. 344, § 2. VISITATION OF ORDINARY this is possible. This lightens the delegate's burden of familiarizing himself with the life of the house be visits. He should study previ-busly the Rule, constitutiong,, directory, c'ustom book, book of com-mon prayers, and ce.remonial of the institute. 2. Frequenc~t of the visitation. Canon 512 enjoins the Ordinary; to visit every house of lay congregations, pontifical or diocesaia, of men or wpmen, every fifth year. Again unlike the canon on the gen-eral visitation of the diocese, can. 512 does not command the Ordi-nary to visit some of the religious houses every year nor to visit all of them at least every five years. The obligation of the Code is com-pletely fulfilled by one visit in five years, and it is perfectly licit to confine the visitation of all the religious houses to one year. The further question arises as to whether tile Ordinary may make a can-orfical visitation of these houses more frequently than once in five years. He may certainly do so in diocesan instituteR, since cart. 492, § 2 subjects these houses completely to the jurisdiction of the local Ordinary. It is the more probable opinion that the Ordinary may not make more than fine canonical visitation in five years in pontifical congregations of men or women,a A canonical visitation constitutes .an Intervention in the religious life of a pontifical congregation, and can. 618, § 2, 2° forbids such an intervention t6 the Ordinary ex-cept in the cases expressly mentioned it, law. These statements are based on the law of the Code. It~is~not impossible to find diocesan congregations and much more exceptionally pontifical congregations that prescribe a greater frequency of visitation in their constitutions. 3. Visitation of places in pontitfcal congregations. The places that the'Code subjects to the visitation in the houses of these congre-gations are: "the ~hurch, the sacristy, the public oratory, and the c!onfessionals.''s Churches and public oratories are practicall3; never iittache'd to the houses' of lay congregations in the United States. All chapels, whether principal or secondary, in the houses of these insti-tutes are classified canonically as semipublic oratories.6 Canon 512 subjects only public, not semipublic, oratories to the visitation of the local Ordinary. Since it is the intention of this c~non to define the persons, places, and things in a religious house that are subject to the visitation of the Ordinary, it is at least probable that he possesses neither the obligation nor the right to visit the semipublic oratories 4Farrell,, ~01-102; LarraonaTCpR, VIII (1927), 444; Toso, 49. sCan. 512, § 2, 2% 3°. 6Can. 1188, § 2, 2°; 1192, § 4. 123 JOSEPH F. GALLEN of lay pontifical co confessionals erected the religious and of sory to the oratory¯ 4. " Visitaffon of Review [or Reliqious gregations. The same principle is true of the in the semipublic oratory for the confessions of the sacristy, which is to be considered as acces-persons in pontifical congregatiot~s, a) General-ate arid provincialat ;. The general and i~rovincial house, superiors, officials, government, and administration of temporal matters of pon-tifical congregational are not visited by the Ordinary. Canon 512 assigns to the Ord~nary the right and the obligation to visit only houses, not provinces or institutes; can. 618, § 2, 2° foriaids the Or-dinary to intervene .~n the .internal government and .discipline of pon- ¯ tifical congregations except in the cases expressly mentioned in the law, and no particu, lar canon gives the Ordinary the right to visit the generalate or proviricialate as such. The dowries are the only matter of general administration that fall under the canonical visitation Otherwise the gene, ral and provincial house, .superiors, and officials are subject to the ~isitation only as a local house and as members of a local community. IT.he same principles are true of. such intermediate divisions as vice,prbwnces, quasi-provinces, visitations, regions, mish sions, districts, and vicariates. b) Imernal'qoloernraent. The internal government of pontifical congregations is exempt by law from the visitation of the Ordinary? Therefore, th~v .,s,tor does not inquire directly ihto the government of local, provincial, other intermediate, or general superiors. .Both [anons 5 2 8 2 3',° and 618, § 2, 2 ° restrict the Visitation of persons XC1 s, on in the latter canoh, in which both government ano a~sctptme are mentioned but the~ intervention of the Ordinary is imm.ediately re- " stricter to &sc,phne. Internal government :includes not only the gen-eral~ elation of subject's to superiors but also the admission of sub- 7De Carlo,.n. 93. 4°, Ib) ; 5°; Larraona, CpR, VIII (1927), 447, and nora 501 448; Reilly, 99, I I2;[Slafkosky, 96-97; Vromant De Personis, n. 177, IL2),a). For the contrary opmton, of. Farrell, 104. Cf. also Ciacio. 60; Coronata, p. 655, ~ota 2; Goyeneche, C'pR,'III (1922), 335-336; Schaefer, n. 560; XVernz-V~dal, p. 123, nots 91.550 ' SCan. 535, § 2; , § 2. . 9De Carlo, nn. 64, III, b) ; 93, 5°, b) ; 404, c) ; Fanfani, IfDiritto Detle Rehq~- ose, n. 60, 2 , c) ; De Reliqiosis~.n. 70, d) ; Larraona, CpR, IX (1928), 100, and aota 505; Pruemmer! qq. 187, 5, c): 242, 2, c). Cf. Abbo-Hannan, ~. 512, Bastien, n. 141; Bryn, n. 616, 6°: Ch°elodi, ~. 281,~b~: Cocchi, pp. c5)2, 183, Goyeneche, De Rehg~ps~s, 169; Jorabart, I, nn. 827, 2, e); 890, 2, ; Raus, n. 178, 4); Regatillo, n. 746; Schaefer, nn. 560, 1285; Vermeersch-Creusen, nn. 631; 778, 2. 124 May, 1953 VISITATION OF ORDINARY jects into the congregation' and to the professions, their education and formation, appointment t_o various offices and employments, and transfer from house to house. c) R~liqious discipline. The right and the duty of the Ordinary to inquire into religious discipline is specified by can. 618, § 2, 2° as follows: 1 ° "The observance of discipline according to the constitutions." The Ordinary is not a religious superior in canon law. His office in this matter is that of the vigilance of external authority and not of direct government of the religious life. He does not inquire into re-ligious discipline in the detailed and rather individual manner of a higher superior. His right and duty is to ascertain the general state of religious discipline in the house and especially the existence of abuses in discipline. Inquiries bearing on an individual should, not be made unless, there is at least a rumor or founded suspicion of the misconduct of the individual.1° The Ordinary is not obliged to in-terview all tbe religious but only the number and the particular indi-viduals who because of their office, employment, or other circum-stances will be sufficient to enable him to discern the general state of discipline.11 Religious dlsc~phne includes the observance of the laws, decrees,' and instructions of the Holy See except those on government. Prac-tically all of these that are pertinent are or at least should be con- .rained in the constitutions. Inquiry sh6u!d also be made as to whether these lay religiou, s are informed on such important canonical legislation as the duration, continuity, and laws on absence of the canonical year of noviceship; the limitation on the application of novices to external works of the congregation during the second year of noviceship; the necessity of the reception of all juridical profes-sions and especially of the renewal o'f temporary professions; ind the observance of the canonical prescription of three full years of tem-porary vows for the validity of the perpetual profession. A direct investigation is to be made on such matters as the observance of the Code and the instructions of the Holy See on begging and on the canonical prohibition of electioneering. The more proper field of religious discipline is the observance of the vows and of the articles of the following sources of obligation: the Rule, constitutions, legitimate customs, ordinations of the general 10Chelodi0 n. 194, c). nCan. 513, § 1. 125 Review for Religious JosEPH F. GALLEN chapter, an~i regula.tions of higher superiors. The most apt norm of inquiry that can be suggested here is the list of questions of the quin-quennial report to ,the Holy See, especially those contained in Chap~ ter II, Article II of this list. The observanc~ of the vow of poverty demands the pe'rmission of the superior fo~ the disposition of material things, but both the ancient and modern abuses in poverty are in the neglect of common life, for example, ~he possession of money that th~ religious' disposes of dependently or independently for his' own necessities; .the frequent or habitual obtaining of necessities from externs; the failure of the institute to supply these necessities adequately and generously; the absence.of the pres, cnbed and reasonable uniformity among the reli-gious in material things, especially in such matters as trips and vaca, tions; and ¯imprudent and excessive demands on parents for these ne-cessities, particular!y during the postulancy and noviceship: ' The external ~afeguards of chastity are subject to the inquiry of the visitor. Thes~e include the avoidance of familiarity and sensual friendships, care ih reading, prudence in the use of the radio, tele-vision, and in thelchoice of the moving pictures shown to the com-munity. The observance of cloister falls under this heading but it is mentioned individually later in the canon. Tile OrdinarY inquires about fidelity to the prescribed religious exercises: Mass, meditation, Little O~ce of the Blessed Virgin Mary, examen 'of conscte, nce, rosary, spiritual reading, visits to the Blessed~ Sacrament, etc. ¯ The spirit of i cooperation, peace, happiness, charity, the general spiritual Ievel in the house, and the obstacles to all of these come un-der the scrutiny of the Ordinary. The canon orl the purpose of the general visitation 6f the diocese directs the Ord, i!nary aiso positively to promote the welfare of the pkrsons and place~ he visits,t2 His counsels can be of value to 'insti-tutes that are la~'king in initiative, manifest a most unsatisfactory rate of increase o~ membership, have a constricted mental outlook, or live so much. in ~he traditions of the past that they refuse to face modern times in ,their lives in general, their work, spiritual forma-tionl and' educat.~gn of subjects. He can give a sympathetic hearing and even effectivei aid to representations on the universal lack of suf-fici'ent financial r~sources in lay congregations. This fact is the cause l~Can. 343, § 1. 126 ) May, 1953 VISITATION OF ORDINARY of overwork, of some of the weakefied health, df much of the loss of the full fervor of the religious spirit, of inadequate education of sub-jects, of the failure to provide sufficient material necessities and suit-able vacations, and, finally of annoying and undignified ways of raising funds. The whole matter of overwork in its relation to the ~observance of religious discipline should be thoroughly studied. The daily schooltwork of brothers and sisters is more than sufficient labor in itself. Added burdens can readily result in the contradiction of the unprepared teacher and the natural' religious. 2° "'Whether sound doctrine and good morals have suffered in. any way." This clause expresses an~application of subjection to the Ordinary not as religious but in the manner of the ordinary faithful. The local Ordinary is the guardian of the purity of faith and morals in his diocese. Misu'nderstanding of matters of faith and erroneous moral principles can be avoided by a competent course in Christian doctrine during the postulancy~ and noviceship and by further and highly desirable theological courses after first profession. 3° "'Whether there have been any violations of cloister." The Ordinary has the 6bligation of exerting .vigilance that cloister is ob-served in all religious congregations and of taking appropriate meas-ures to correct any habitual, notable, or scandalous Violations.13 Canon law imposes cloister on all congregations of men or women. This law places in cloister the parts of the house reserved for the ex-clusive use of the religious and determined by higher superiors. It forbids the entrance into the cloistered section of any person of the opposite sex except for a reasonable cause. The particular law of some .congregations forbids the entrance likewise of those of the same sex. The law of cloister also demands the observance of the pre-scriptions of the constitutions on going out of the house and 6n the rec~eption of visitors. 4° "'Whether 'the sacraments are, dul~t and regularlt.t received." The Ordinary is to inquire whether the religious receive the sacrament of Penance weekly, as universally prescribed by the constitutions. This is also the appropriate occasion for an investigatibn into the following canonical matters: the competence and regular fulfillment of their duties by the ordinary and extraordinary confessors; the-availability of supplementary confessors; abuses in the matter of special confessors; interference in 'internal and external government by confessors; interference with the rights of subjects regarding the 13Can. 604, § 3. 127 JOSEPH F GALLEN Reweto for Rehfltous suplblementary and occasional confessors and also the confessors of re-ligious women who are seriously ill; the exercise" of these rights in Conformity with right .reason, prudence, and religious discipline; the important directive of the Sacred Congregation of the Sacraments on the opportunity for confession before daily Mass; and any violation of the prohibition of obliging to a manifestation of conscience. The frequency of the reception of Holy Communion is not prescribed by the constitutions but is left to the devotion of the individual ~eh-gious. It is not beyond the power of the Ordinary to inquire about the general frequency of the reception of Holy Communion. If he finds a situation unusual in a religious house, he may be able to sug-gest o'r actually to effect a solution that will render the 'situation normal. 5° Remedial action of the local Ordinary. The defects in reh-gious discipline of lesser moment that the Ordinary has discerned and judges worthy of mention should be communicated to the siapiriors It will be sufficient to advise the local superior of such matters, unless , he judges that an effective correction can be attaihed only by inform-ing the superior general or provincial. If he has found abuses of serious moment, that is, continued or repeated violations of the laws o~ God, of the Church, or of.religious discipline in matters of greater importance, he is to admonish the superiors to correct the abuse. The gravity of these matters will frequently demand or at least cdu,.nsel that the higher superior be informed. If the abuse is not corrected within a reasonable time, the Ordinary himself is to take means to eliminate it. If he has discovered any serious matter that demands immediate correction, the Ordinary himself is to take direct corrective action but in this case he is obliged to inform the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religious of his action.14 5. Financial matters in pontitical congregations. Cation law here asserts the practical restriction of the authority of the local Ordinary to the two following matters:XS a) Dowries. The dowries, which are proper to institutes of women, are under the vigilance of the Ordinary of the habitual resi-dence~ of the higher superioress who is administering them. This right of vigilance demands that the consent of the Ordinary be obtained 14Can. 618, § 2, 2*., lSCan. 618, § 2. 1 °. Only the two financial matters here listed.are ordinarily found in constitutions approved by the Holy See. Cf. can. 533, § 1, 4"; 1515-1517, 1544-1551. 128 Mag, 1953 VISITATION OF ORDINARY for any investment or change of investment of the dowries; he is also to exert care that the dowries are maintained intact and invested in safe~ lawful, and productive securities; finally, he is to exact an ac-count of the dowries un'der these headings at the time of the canonical visitation or even oftener, if he thinks the latter necessary,lg A state-ment should be prepared for the visitor sho~ving the number of dow-ries, their 'value when given, the securities in which they are invested,' and the current value of the securities. b) Funds for divine worship or charitg~. The rather obscure and complicated funds here intended are those: (1°) donated or be-queathed to a house of a religious congregation; (2°) and motivated at least primarily and directly for divine worship or works of charity in favor of externs and to be carried out in the same. village, town, or city in which the religious house is located. Money given for main-taining a scholarship can be an example of such funds. The consent of the local Ordinary must be. obtained for any lnvestment or change of investment of these funds, and he also has.the right of inquiring into their administration. The manner, frequency, and time of the inquiry are left to the decision of the Ordinary.lz The canonical visitation is an opportune tim~ for this inquiry. These same rights of the Ordinary do not extend to such funds given to a province or congregation, nor tO those given solely or pri-marily and directly for the benefit of the religious, nor when the di-vine worship or works of charity are to be performed outside the lo-cation of the religious house or when the choice of the place of their performance is left to the religious. The primary and direct purpose of the gift of funds for a scholarship may be to provide an education for a poor youth or to bestow a gift on the religious who conduct the school; only in the former case would these funds be subject to the norms of vigilance quoted above. 6. Visitation of diocesan cofigregations. The general principle of canon law is that diocesan congregations are completely subject to the local Ordinaries. However, the Code immediately limits this sub-jection by stating that it is such as is described in law.is The prin-ciples that restrict the jurisdiction of the Ordinary over these congre-gations are as follows: (a) he must observe the particular canons that limit his power, for example, the higher superiors of the institute, 16Can. 549; 550, § 2; 533, § 1, 2°; § 2; 535, § 2. 17Can. 533, § 1, 3°; § 2; 535, § 3, 2°¯ ISCan. 492, § 2. 129 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Reoietu for Religioas not the Ordinary, are competent tb admit to the professions; (b) his authority must be exercised according to the apprgved constitutions; (c) the Ordinary of the motherhouse enjoys no primacy of author-ity, since the Code subjects the houses in each diocese to the jurisdic-tion of the Ordinary of that diocese; (d) a diocesan c~'ngregation is a legitimately erected moral person in the Church, with its own proper internal life and field of action: the superigrs possess independent au-thority and are obliged to recur to the Ordinary in matters of inter-nal government only when this is demanded by the Code or the con-stitutions; (e) the Ordinary is not to be considered as a religious su-perior who directly governs the congregation but as an external ec-clesiastical superior, whose authority is that of vigilance over the proper observance of the Code and the const~itutions, of correcting abuses, supplying for defects, and of guiding and aiding the co'n-gregation during the relatively brief probationary period of acquiring the strength and stabili_ty necessary in a petition for pontifical ap-proval. The Ordinary thus acts as an external ecclesiastical superior in the canonical visitation of these congregations. The Code places no limitation on the Ordinary's right of visitation of the houses of congregat!ons. He visits these houses'in everything, internal government, the whole field of discipline, all financial matters, per-sons, and places. Here also the Ordinary is obliged to interview the individual religious only to the extent that he judges necessary for the attainment of the purpose of the visitation.19 The visitation of the semipublic oratories and sacristies of dioc-esan institutes includes an examination into the fgllowing matters: cleanliness; freedom of the oratory from profane uses and its security against sacrilegious thefts and profanations; the conformity of the altar, the t~bernacle, and their furnishings with canonical and litur-gical legislation; the cus, tody of the Eucharist; obedience to instruc-tions on the custody .of the tabernacle key; all the sacred vessels; tl~e sanctuary lamp; the conformity bf the vestments and other furnish-ings with liturgical law, ecclesiastical tradition, and the laws of sacred art; observance of the laws on divine worship and sacred music; fidel-ity to the list of days on ~hich Exposition and Benediction bf the Most Blessed Sacrament are permitted; the admission of priests to the celebration of Mass; and the proper custody of the holy oils. The confessionals in these institutes are examined in the follow- 19Can. 513, § 1. Cf. 4. c), 1° above. 130 Matt, 1953 VISITATION OF ORDINARY -ing respects: their location in' institutes of women in an open and conspicuous place and generally in the chapel: suitability and per-manent accessibility of the place of the confessional; the danger of being overheard, especially ih a confessional in the chapel: a suitable place for the ~onfessions of the deaf; the presence of a narrowly per~ forated grating between the confessor and the penitent; and observ-ance of the law that forbids the confessions of women outside the confessional except in cases of sickness or for other reasons of similar import. The Ordinary always has the right of taking direct and imme-diate action to correct defects and abuses that he has discovered in di-ocesan congregations. However, for the efficacy of the government of superiors and the peace of the members of the institute, it would be better to follow the order of correction described above for pontiff-cal congregations. A diocesan generalate or provinciaiate and the general and pro-vincial superiors and officials, even if the institute or province has houses in several dioceses, certainly fail, under the quinquennial visi-tation of the Ordinary as a local house and members of a local com-munity, The administration of all the dowries i~ also' subject to this visitation of the Ordinary. It is certain that the Ordinary is not obliged to make a ~canonical visitation of the general and provincial houses, superiors, and officials as "such, nor of the general and pro-vincial government and material administration, even if all the houses of the congregation or province are located in his diocese. The argu-ment for this statement is found in the law on the canonical visita-tion, which speaks only of the visitation of houses, not of provinces or institutes.~° It is likewise certain that the Ordinary may make such a visitation, provided all the houses of the province or congrega-tloia are located in his diocese. This right follows from the general subjection of diocesan congregations to [he Ordinary and is in con-flict with no canonical principle. It is more probable that the Ordi-nary may not make such a visitation when the congregation or prov-ince includes houses located in other dioceses, unless he has been com-missioned to do so by the Ordinaries of all these other diocesesl- The principal arguments for this doctrine are that sfich a visitation would affect the entire congregation or province, would contravene the can-onical principle that the Ordinary of the motherhouse enjoys no primacy-of authority, and would thus be obstructive of the rights of 20Can. 5 1 2. 13 t JOSEPH F. GALLEN Reoieu~ for Religious the other Ordinaries. Some canonists oppose thi~ doctrine and hold with solid prob-ability that the Ordinary may make a canonical visitation Of such a generalate or provincialate. Their position is founded on the general subjection of diocesan institutes to the local Ordinary and they deny that this visitation, whose purpose is to promote the observance of the Code and the constitutions, would of its nature conflict with the authority ~r rights of the other Ordinaries.22 In this diversity of opinion, the Ordinary may licitly maintain the right of visitation, since the exclusion of the visitation of such a generalate or provi'ncial-ate from the general principle of subjection to the local Ordinary has not been certainly proved. The controversy should now have a. negligible practical applica-tion. The Sacred Congregation of Religious stated clearly in the new quinquennial report that a diocesan institute actually divided into provinces should have petitioned the status of a pontifical con-gregation before such a division. The Sacred Congregation also ex-plicitly affirmed that any diocesan congregation should.~petition pon-tifical approval as soon as the necessary conditions are verifiei:l. These are practically alwa~rs verified in a diocesan congregation that has spread beyond the diocese of origin. It cannot be repeated too fre-quently that the .diocesan status of a religious ifistitute is not per-petual and definitive but only temporary and probationary and that pontifical status, when the necessary conditions are verified is not optional but mandatory according to the practice of the Sacred Con-grega tion~. ~ II. Monasteries of Nuns Not Subject to Regular Superiors Canonically. nuns are the members of an institute of religious @omen in .which solemn vows at least should be taken according to the prescription of the particular law~ of the institute. Only simple vows are still taken in most monasteries of nuns in the United States, but the injunction of the apostolic constitution Sponsa Christi should soon reverse this condition,24 Some orders of nuns, for example, the 21Bastien, n. 137; Jombart, IV, n, 1323, 7, but cf.'I, n. 827, 2, a); Larraona, CpR, X (1929), 368-377: XIV (1933), 417, and nora 777; 418; Muzzarelh, nn. 145-147; Quinn, 842'90; Schaefer, n. 744, d), but of. n. 745. 22D'Ambrosio, Apollinaris, I (1928.), 417-422: Reilly, 91-97; apparently also Brys, n. 631, IV, 3°; De Carlo. n. 206, III: Vermeersch-Creusen, n. 660, 3, Vromant, De Bonis Ecclesiab Ternporalibtts, n. 238. 23Review forReligious, March, 1950, 57-68; January, 1951, 22; January, 1952, 13-14. z4Statuta, Art. III, § 2. 132 May, 1953 VISITATION OF ORDINARY Carmelites and Dominicans, are subject by the law of their constitu-tions tothe supeiiors of orders of men; others, for example, the Vis, itandines, are not. Monasteries of only simple vows are most rarely in fact subject to order~ of men, even though their constitutions pre-scribe such subjection. The first category of nuns with regard to the canonical visitation of the local Ordinary is of monasteries of solemn or simple vows that are not in fact subject to orders of men. The local Ordinary is obliged to visit all such monasteries every five years35 He may do so more frequently, since these monasteries are subject to him also with regard to the religious life. The consti-tutions also may prescribe a greater frequency of visitation. He viS'its these monasteries in everything, as described above for diocesan con, gregations. All monasteries of 'nuns, whether of solemn or simple vows, are now to have papal cloister.~ The local Ordinary or his " delegate, accompanied by at least one .cleric or religious man of ma-ture age, enters a papal cloister of. women only for the-visitation of places. The rest of the visitation is carried out at the grille37 III. Monasteries of Nuns Subject to Regular Superiors , The distinctive note of this category is that th~ monastery is in fact subject to an order of men. A~ stated above, it may be of sol-emn or'simple vows. The local Ordinary is obliged to visit such a monastery "every five years concerning the observance of the law of cloister and he may make such a visitation as often as he judges it opportune.~ On the occasion of his q~inquennial visitation he also inquires'into the administration of the dowries,a9 The Ordinary alsb has a suppletory duty with regard to a monastery, of this category. If the monastery has not been visited within five years by ~he regular superior, the 1,ocal Ordinary is obliged to visit it in everything, as ex-plained above for diocesan congregations.3°, Other Pertinent Canons abd Principles Canons 513; § 1 and 2413, as also the principles on the. field of c6nsciende, denunciation of the conduct of another, and use and se-crecy concerning.matters learned in a visitation, explained in the pre- 2SCan. 512, § 1, 1" 26Sponsa Christi, Statuta, Art:'IV. 27Can. 600, 1" 28Can. 512, § ~, 1". 29Can. 5 5 0. ~30Chn. f!l2, § -2, 1". 133 JOSI~PH F. GALLEN vious aiticle on the visitation of higher superiors, a~ply similarly the canonical visitation of the local Ordinary.3',32 31Concerning the subject of the penalty of can. 2413. cf. Jombart, Larraona. Muz-zarelli, and D'Ambrosio. as cited in notes 21-22. and Reilly, 173-176. 3ZThe authors cited are: Abl~o-Hannan. The Sacred Canons, I: Bastien. Directo~re Canonique; Brys. duds Canonici Compendium, I: Chelodi, lus Canonicum De Per-sonis: Ciacio, De, Oratodis Semipublicis: Coccbio Commentarium In Codicem lur,s Canonici, IV; Coronata. lnstitutiones luris Canonici, I: D'Ambrosio. Apollinar,s:. De Carlo. dus Religiosorum; Fanfani. ll Diritto Delle Religiose, De lure Relioioso-rum: Farrell. The Rights and Duties of the Local Ordinar{l Regarding Congrega-tions of Women Religious of Pontifical Approtml; Goy6neche. Commentadum Pro Religiosis, De Religiosis; JomlSart. Traitd De Droit Canonique, I. IV: Larraona, Commentarium Pro Religiosis; Muzzarelli. De Congregationibds furls Dioecesam; Pruemmer. Manuale luris Canonici; Quinn. Relation of the Local Ordinart, t to Reh-gious of Diocesan Approval; Raus. Institutiones Canonicae : Regatillo. lnstitutiones luris Car~onici; Reilly~ The Visitation of Religious; Schaefer, De Religiosis; Sl~f-kosky, The Canonical Episcopal Visitatiori of the Diocese; Toso. De Religios~s, Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome furls Canonici, I: Vromant. De Personis: De Bores Ecclesiae Temporalibus; Wernz-Vidal. De Rdigiosis. "10,000 GOLD FRANCS" MEANS "S,000 DOLLARS" AcCording .to a decree of the Sacred Consistorial Congregation, duly 13, 1951, religious institutes need the permission of the'Holy ¯ See t6 alienate property or to incur a debt when the amount exceeds 10,000 gold' francs or lire. In an article in-this REVIEW (November, 1952, pp. 301-304), we att'empted to translate this amount into American dollars, and we reached the~ tentative conclusion that the approximate amount would be 7,000 dollars. Our estimate was based on sound economic calculations; hence, we suggested that 7,000 American dollars Could be taken as the norm until some more specific norm would.be given by the Holy See itself. On danuary 29, 1953, the Sacred Congregation of Religious pub-lished the official equivalents of 10,000 gold francs or )ire for the principal countries of the world. The equivalent for the United States is given as 5,000 dollars; for the equivalents in other countries, see page 150. As matters now stand, therefore, the permission of the Holy See must be obtained to alienate property or to incur a debt when the amount exceeds 5,000 dollars in our ordinary currency. It should recalled that this permissidn may be obtained through the Apostohc Deldgate, in Washington,if the sum does not exceed 500,000 dollars 134 Conl:ession before Communion Gerald Kelly, S.3. '~N THE FIFTEENTH of Jun, e, 1520, in a memorable docu- . ~ ment which begins with the words, Exsurge Domine (Arise, O Lord), Pope Leo X condemned a multitude of errors of Martin Luther. Among these errors was Luther's teaching on the preparation, required for Holy Communion. According to him, pr~yers~and other pious works, as well as contrition for mortal sin and even confession itself, are useless; all that is required is to .be-lieve, to have confidence that one will obtain grace in the sacrament, and this alone will make one pure and worthy. Thirty-one years later, fin its thirteenth 'session' (October 11, 1551), the Council of Trent considered this same errdneous teaching, and,stated the true doctrine in a chapter and a canon. Chapter VII, "On the preparation to be given thht one may.worthily receive the sacred Eucharist," runs as follows: "If it is unbeseeming for anyone to approach to any of the sadred functibns unless he approach holily; assuredly, the more the holiness and divinity of this heavenly sacrament are understood by a Chris-tian, the more diligently ought he to "give heed that he approach not to receive it but with great reverence and holiness, especially as we read in the Apostle those words full of terror: He that eateth and drinketh unworthil! , eateth and drinketh judgment to himself, Wherefore, he who would communicate ought to recall to ~ind the precept of the Apostle: Let a man proue himself. Now ecclesiastical usage declares that necessary proof to be, that no one, conscious to himself of mortal sin, how contrite .soever he may seem to himself, ought to approach to the sacred Eucharist without previous sacra-mental confession. This the holy Synod hath decreed is to be,in-variably observed by all Christians, even by those priests on. whom it may be incumbent by their office to celebrate, 16rovided the opportun-ity of a confessor do not fail them; but if, in an urgent necessity, a priest should celebrate without previous confession, let him confess as soon as possible." (Waterwotth, The Canons and,Decrees of the Sacred and Oecumen&al Council of Trent, pp. 80-81.) " The eleventh canon :of the same session makes explicit reference to the Lutheran error. It reads: 135 GERALD KELLY Reoiew for Reli~lious "If anyone saith, that faith alone is a sufficient preparation for receiving the sacrament of the most. holy Eucharist; let him be anathema. And for fear lest so great a sacrament may be received unworthily, and so unto death and conddmnation, this holy Synod ordains and declares that sacramental 'confession, when a confessor" may be had, is of necessity to be made beforehand, by those whose conscience is burtl~ened ,with mortal sin, how contrite even soever they may think themselves. But if anyone shall presume to teach, preach, or obstinately to assert, or eveh in public disputation to de-fend the contrary, he ~hall be thereupon excommunicated." (Water-worth, p. 84.) The foregoing teaching of the Council of Trent is the principal source of our present canon law: namely, canon 807, which concerns the celebration of Mass, and canon 856, which concerns the reception of Holy Communion. .An English translation of the latter canon runs as follows: "No one, whose conscience convicts him of mortal sin, no matter how contrite he thinks himself, may approach Holy. Communion without l~revious sacramental confession. If there is urgent neces-sity, and no oppoitunity of finding a confessor, he must first elicit an Act of Perfect Contrition." (O'Donnell, Moral Questions, p. 270.) This law is of the greatest moment. It should be clearly under-stood by religion teachers, catechists, and frequent communicants. Properly to understand it, one must have a grasp of these three propositions: (I) It is always, necessary to be in the state of grace When receiving Holy Communion. (II) It is ordinarily necessary to confess before receiving Holy Communion if one has committed a mortal sin since one's last good confession. (III) In certain extra-ordinary circumstances it is sufficierit to regain grac~ by a'n act of per-fect contrition before receiving. Holy Communion. The purpose of the present article is to explain these three propositions and (IV) to call attention to some precautions to be. taken in order to safeguard the ordinary observance of the law and, to avoid sacrilegious Com-munions. I. It is alwol~s necessary to be in' the State of grace when receiving Communion. One reason for this is that the Holy Eucharist is a sacrament of the living. A sacrament of the living supposes its recipient to be already supernaturally aliventhat is, living the divine life of grace--- 136 Ma~, 1953 CONFESSION BEFORE COMMUNION and its function is to increase this divine life in the soul. A second reason is found in the special purpose of the Eucharist, which, is to r~ourisb. We do not speak of nour.ishing a corpse; nourishment sup-poses that life ~lready exists. The conscious receptiOn of Holy Communion while in the state of mortal sin is a grave sacrilege. It is to receive the source of sal-vation unto one's own condemnation. No one, therefore, should receive this sacrament unless he has a reasonable assurance that he is in the state of grace. I say "a reasonable assurance," because when there is question of our interior state of soul it is not possible for us, apart from ~ special divine revelation, to have an absolute certainty that we are in the state of grace. All that God. expects of us in this and in similar matters is a practical, or working, certainty that we fulfill various conditions established by Himself or the ChurCh for His honor and our own spiritual welfare. For ordinary people there is no difficulty in this.matter. They go to confession; do what they can to fulfill the requisites of a good confession, and leave the con-fessional in peace, sufficiently confident that their sins are forgiven and that they are in the state of grace. And the same is true of them when they make an act of perfect contrition: they are reasonably, or practically, sure that through this act they are restored to God's friendship,' in case they had lost it through mortal sin. (Contrition, said the Council of Trent, is perfect through charity. Hence, perfect coritrltion is sorrow for sin based upon a motive of charity, that is, sorrow because one has offended God, who is the supreme good and worthy to be loved above all things. It is not difficult for those who are accustomed to think of God to make an act of perfect contrition and to mean it. The formula for the act of contrition, as ordinarily taught in catechism classes, contains both imperfect and perfect contrition. This is appropriate, because sorrov~ for the perfect motive does not exclude sorrow for lesser motives.) Some people, such as the scrupulous, have great difficulty in these matters. They alw.'ays feel spiritually insecu~re. No matter what their reason might tell them of their state of soul, its calm judgment is stifled by their fear; and this fea.r makes them feel that they are not, or,may not be, in the state of grace. If such people were to follow their feelings, they would very likely never receive a sacrament of the living, especially the H61y Eucharist. For them~ it is necessary to fol-low sound direction in spite of their feelings--lall the while working towards the goal of being able to make quiet judgments for them-selves, judgments based on facts and not on fea~. 137 GERALD KELLY As is the case with other sins, one must realize what he is doing in order to be guilty of a sacrilegious Communion. Consequently, one who is actually in the state of mortai sia but does n~ot advert this when he receives Holy Communion does not commit a sin: fact, it may be that he receives sanctifying grace through the Eucha-rist itself. Many erfiinent theologians hold that. a sinner (i.e:, in the state of mortal sin) who receives Holy Communion ifi good faith and with imperfect contrition for his sins is restored to grace through'this sacrament. Knowledge of this opinion may be a con-solation to those who are apt to worry about being deprived of grace because of unsuspected unworthiness when they communicate. The case of receiving Holy Communion without adverting the fact that one is in the state of mortal sin can hardly be very common. But it is certainly not an impossibility, especially for some people whose devotions' aie governed by routine. For example, sup-pos~ that a layman is accustomed to receive Holy Communion first Sunday of every month and to go to confession, the day before It might happen that something unforeseen.would prevent his going to confession, and then, following his routine pattern, h~ would communciate Sunday morning without realizing at the time that had been unable to make his usual confession. If he had committed a mortal sin and had made only an act of imperfect contrition'he would still be in mortal sin at the time of communica_ting. Being unconscious of this, he would be in wh~t is called "good faith Communion would proba.bly have the same effect for him as an of perfect contrition~namely, give him sanctifyi.n.g grace, though would still be obliged to confess his sin.' II. It is ordln~rily necessar~.l to confess before receiving Communion ~f one has committed a mortal sin since one's last good confession. To say that one must be in the state of grace when receiving sacrament of the living is not the same as saying that a sinner must go to confession before receiving one of these sacraments. It is pos-sible to regain sanctifying grace either through actual confession through perfect contrition, which includes the intention to co,nfess the proper time. Nothing in the nature of a sacrament of the living makes actual confession a necessary prerequisite; nor is there any special law which makes confession necessary, except for the Holy Eucharist. For instance, if a young man who is to be confirmed tomorrow commits a mortal sin today, he is certainly obliged regain sanctifying grace before receiving confirmation, but an act 138 ¯Ma~, 1953 CONFESSION BEFORE COMMUNION perfect contrition would suffce for ¯thpis rup !o s e .~ A . nd this would" be true also of matrimony, holy~orders, and e~xtrem¢ unction if these sacraments were received apart from Holy:Communion,or the cele-bration of Mass. | ~ . . The Holy Eu~charist, therefo.re, is govern~ed by°an entirely special law~. As we learn from the Council of "l~rent arid the Code, the regaining of grace through perfect contrition.is not normally suffi-cient for the reception of this sa~cramsaecnrat;m Ie ~ntal confession' is ordinarily required. The reason for this seems to be the entirely special .character of the Holy Eucharist. it is the most excellent of sacraments, and it is to be safeguarded as much fis is humi~nly possible against the clangerof abuse. ~ ] Is this law prescribing confession beforle Comrfiunion a divine law or a law made by the Church? The answer to this question is not clear. Some of the greatest of'post-Tr~dentine theologians ex-plain it as a divine law promulgated through St. Paul: St, Alph'onsus Liguori, writing in the eighteenth century, ~dheres. to this explana~ tion as being by far the more common and th~eonlv true one Never-thele. ss, eminent modern theologians express ~lissa~isfa~tion with the arguments that the law is of divine origin arid hold that ~he words of the Council of Trent are sufficiently verifi~ed if the law is consid-ered to be of ecclesiastical origin. In either case--whether divine or merely ecclesiastical the law is strictly binding, and the only excep-tion to it is offcially declared by the Church[ to be a case in which Communion is necessary and confession is impossible, as will be ex-plained in our next section. ~Who are obliged by this law to go to cofenssion before receiving Communion? Only those u:bo are certain tb ~at tbe[j.have committed a mortal sin since their last gUod confession. T~erefore, one who inculpably failed to tell a mortal sin in an otl-lerwise good confes~io~h is ~iot obliged to abstain from Communion u~nti~ he makes another c~nfession. ~'He bus already regained grace thr~ough co~nfession. It is true, of course, that the omitted sin must still be confessed; but it is not necessary to advance one's ordinary time of confession in order to do this, and in the meantime one may receive Holy.Communion even daily as long as ~he commits no further m~0rtal sin. " , It is clear that- if one who knows he forgot to tell a mortal sin in. confession may receive Holy Communion, then one who merely doubts whether be forgot to tell a sin has the~ same privilege¯ BUt what of one who knows be committed a mortal sin and doubts 139 GERALD KELLY Reoieto for Religious whether~ he has been to confession at all since then (not a yery com-mon case), or~,.of one who doubts whether he has sinned mortally (e.g., by sutficient reflection or full co.nsent) since his last confession~ Regarding these cases there would be some difference of opinion among xheologians; but a sound practical rule covering all .such doubts is this: th~ sole obligation is to take some available means of removing the doubt so that one will be reasonably sure of being in the state of grace when receiving HolyrCommunion. ¯ Sometimes what is called a doubt is not a doubt at all, but merely a scruple or a sort of hazy" fear. The best treatment for such ~orries is to pay as Iittle heed as possible to them, even though they accompany the holiest of actions. In other instances, a doubt is a sort of temporary state of mined that can be corrected by the applica-tion of a sound rule of presumption. For instance, one who Wonders whether he gave full consent in some very disturbing temptation, mig~ht' realize in his calmer moments that in similar' situations he never, or practically never, gives in to the temptation. Thus the presumption of not consenting favors him, and he may use this pre-sumption to dispel his perplexity and to form the practical judgment 'that heDis still in the stare of grace. In such cases neither confession nor r~erfect contrition is strictly required before Holy Commun.lon But it may happen occasionally to anyone that his doubt whether he has committed a mortal sin is too solidly-founded to be ignored and that the circumstances of the temptation are so unusual that the ordinary presumptions are not helpful. In other ~ ords. one might have a really sincere and insoluble doubt whether he is here and now in the state of mortal sin. Even in this case confession is not obliga-tory; but if one does not wish to go to confession one should make an act of perfect contrition before receiving Communion. Ac~ording to some good authors even the act of perfect contrition is not str_ictly necessary; but it is hard to find any sound reason for this opinion and I viould-not sponsor it. On the. other hand. many, if not most. authors think that confession is generally advisable in these cases of insoluble doubt. For myself. I would be very slow to recommend the special confession of doubtful sins except to persons who might need this'as a means of corr.ecting a proneness to laxity. III. In cdrtain extraordinary circumstances it is'su~cient to regain grace before receit)ing Communion by making an act of perfect con-trition. A problem proposed to Father Michael O'Donnell (Moral Ques- 1:40 Meg, 1953 tfons, p. ,2,70) can aptly introduce the pCrOeNs~eEnSt$ 1sOecNt BioEnFO. TREh CeO pMrMobUlNeImON concerns a person who d d an impure action and was heartily sorry for doing so, and wanted to keceive Our Ble'~ssedLord the following morning," This person evidently had no opportunity to go to con-fession: hence be made an act of perfect cqntrltlon 'and promised Our Lord he would go to confession'at the first opportunity and tell that sin of impurity and fulfilled that promis~e a few days later." He now wants to know whether he did wrong an going to C6mmunion. This is a very human problem. One can almost feel the anxiety of the questioner. Father O Don-_ewl rlgbtllv sets b~ m:nd at r~st by saying that. since he acted in good faith. He has n6 need to worry. It is one thing to decide wh&her one has beech guilty of sin, another thing to tell one what to do in the future. I~ cannot be repeated too . often that past actions arenot to be judged by present knowledge. Many of us have done things in perfectly gobd faith which we later learned were forbidden. In acting thus we ~ere not guilty of sin: in fact we may have been highly pleasing to God because we ~lid what we thought was righf under the circumstadces. So, too, we may have done things in a sort of perplexed state i~n which .we did the best we could to decide what was right and then d~d it. but with a sort of vague anxiety. This is not ,what aut, bors referIto when,, they coffdemn acting "in practical doubt.' The °practica1~lldoul~ter is not merely troubled by a vague worry or perplexity; he is one who has a serious reason, for questioning wh~tber what he is about to do is sinful and then, witl~out forming his conscience, be does' it Xnyway. I call attention to this principle that pas~ acti6ns are n~t to be judge.d by present knowledge, because it is n~t entirely unlikely that some readers of this article may have had an experience similar to Father O'DonnelI's questioner. Lacking a ~lear knowledge of the law of confession before Communion, they may have received Co}n-reunion without previous confession in some. instance in which, ac-cording to the explanation given here, they were not justified in doing so. Let them be content to use the new knowiedge as a guide for the future and not make it a cause of anxiety abou~t~tbe past. Many laws admit of exceptions by reason of some extraordinary circumstances or combination of circumstances[ Thus, a mothek who must care for a sick child is excused from Slunday Mass; the "poor who live on what they receive from others are excused froin tb~ law of abstinence; and so forth. The law pr~scri'bing cbnfession before Communion also admits of exception; but the" Church considers ~bis 141 GERALD KELLY Reoteto [or Rehgtous matter of such importance that she officially declares just what cir-cumstances constitute the exception. For a legitimate exception there must be a combina~tion of two extraordinary circumstances: (1) im-possibility of going.to confession; and (2) necessity of receiving Communion. Both conditions must be verified. And both need some expla~nation. 1. Confession lmpbssible. Authors generally illustrate this matter with the example of person who is0 already kneeling at the Communion rail before he realizes that he should have gone to confession. It is clear that if he is to receive Communion now (whether 'that is necessary will be ¯ treated later), then coflfession before Communion is impossible. He ~annot stop the priest.at the altar rail and say: "Will you please bear my confession before giving me CommuniorL" " F~ther Edwin F. Healy, S.2., in Christian Guidance (p. 105), uses the example of a father of a family who has planned on receiving Communion with his children on their mother's anniversary. ,He intends to go to confession before Mass, but when they reach the church they find that the onlh, priest of this parish is already begirt-ning Mass. As Father Healy points out, it would be out of the question for the man to leave the church and go elsewhere to con-fession if he is to receive Communion with his family at this Mass'. Example~ of inability to get to confession are not limited to these last-minute cases. The impossibility might last for some tihae, espe-cially in a small town when the pastor is absent and when inclement weather or lack of time would prevent one from going to another town. Moreover, there can be cases in which a priest can be reached yet, confessi6~ is impossible: _for example, if the priest Would not hear the. confession, perhaps because of scrupulosity. Or the only available priest might be one without tl'ie faculties to hear confessions. This would not be very common in our country; but it could happen, for instance, in the case of'a priest who would be outside his own dio-cese. And it would be more common in some countries where it is customary to,limit the jurisdiction of young priests to a certain class of persons. At the time of the Council of Trent the limitation of confes-sional faculties was not at all uncommon: hence cases in which an available priest migh~t b~ able to hear one's confession were not rare This seems to be one reason for the rather strange wording used by the Council in declaring the law of confessing before Communion 142 May, 1953 CON~ESSION BEF(~RE COMMUNION / Confession is necessary, it says, if one has a i'co/~ia confessoris." The Code preserves the same expression, "copia ~onfesarii?' The literal meaning of copla is 'a plenty, an abundanc~e," an,d the very use of the expression implies that it might be possible to have a priest pres-, ent, yet no confessor would be available, VaI r.ious authors try to press this idea by saying that confession is neIcessary: if a confessor is present to whom one is obliged to confess: if a suitable confessor is present: if there is an available priest to wh6m one could go to con-fession without grave inconvenience. The foregoing are various ways of sayin~ is present or can be reached confession may bility. I have aI~eady cited two examples cannot hear the confession, and the priest Another example of this practical impossibil case in which confession cannot be made privacy. Still another case, very clear in tF. that,even when a priest be a practical impossi-af this: the priest who who will not hear ~t. ity of confessing is the without the necessary eory but not nearly so clear in its application, is that in. which the very going to confession would create suspicion in the minds of others that one had s~nned seriously. I say this is clear in theory becaus~e such a danger to one's reputation is certainly an extraordinary inconvenience that would, make confession morally impossible. And I ladd that Jr'is not clear in its practical application bechuse the dangelI is more likely to exist merely in the minds of,certain oversensitive in~lividuals than in actual fact. It is sometimes said that this kind of sltuat~on is not uncom-mon in communities of Sisters, so that a Sister1 who would go to con-fession before Mass would be open to suspicion. Perhaps there~are some communities in which such gross unkindness and injustice pre-vail, but we can at least h'ope that they a.re ~ery rare and that they will soon reform. " I Theologians discuss and dispute over what they call "invincible repugnance') attached to goin~ to con~fession to a certain individual. All agree, of course, that the mere d~flicultyI of confession, or the mere humiliation of confessing a serious sin-~iifficulties inherent in "confession to some extent for most people~,w.ould not constitute a moral impossibility of going to confession. The debatable case con-cerns repugnance or embarrassment that arises ?from some kind of special relationship with the confessor. This might be blood rela-tionship.: for example, the confessor 'is one's son or brother. Or it might be a relationship of work: for example, the confessor and peni-tent are working intimately together day after day. Or it might be a 143 GERALD' KELLY Review for Religipus relati0nshipZwif I may use the term--of dislike., For instance, sup-pose that a certain priest clearly dislikes me and loses no opportunity of~showing it l~y bein~g rude,.ridiculing me, and so forth. It is easily seen that I might have a repugnance to confessing a serious sii~ that priest which would be entirely special, entirely different from the difficulty ndrmally experienced in confession. No one holds that these relationships always create "invincible repugnance." But many theologians believe that this psycho!ogical effect is experienced in some cases and,that in these cases there is truly extraordinary inconvenience which amounts to a moral impos-sibility of confessing to that priest. Hence,,the~r wo~Id say that such a priest were the only one ~vho could be reached, confession would be a practical impossibility. I am convinced that these theo-logians are c~orrect: and I believe that St., Thomas. Aquinas would agree with them, too. With reference to a similar question--the ne-cessity of making" the annual confession "to 6ne's own priest"-- St. Thomas recommended great liberality in alldwing people to to other confessors, "because," he said, "many are so weak that they would rather die without confession than confess .to that priest." (Suppl., q. 8, a. 5, ad. 6.) A few otheb cases generally cited by authors as constituting impossibility of confessing are these: the danger of scandalizing t, priest: the danger that confessional secrecy will be abused; the danger of revealing one's accomplice in a sin. Granted that such ~onditions existed, they would make confession morally'impossible: but I think their actual existence would be rare. 2. Communion Necessarg Because" of the variety of situations which mak~ confession moral impossibility, the first condition for the exception to the .of confession before Communion is not entirely uncommon. But second condition is also required--necessity of going to Communion --and this is seldom gerified. To illustrate this condition we might reconsider three of the cases previously mentioned. In the problem presented to Father O'Donnell the questioner apparently had no opportunity of going to confession. But his only reason for going to Communion was that" he "wanted to receive Our Blessed Lord the following morning." This desire, though it may be very strong and though it is very laudable, does not. make Com-munion a necessity. There is a necessity of going to Communion Ma~, 1953 CONFESSIO,N BEFORE COMMUNION' only when abstinence from Communion would be accompanied by' some very extraordinary incorivenience. Another case is that of the person who is. already kneeling at the Communion rail when he realizes that be should have gone to Con-fession. Clearly, as we pointed out, confession is now impossible. And if he could not leave the rail without exposing himself to suspi-cion, there would also be a necessity of communicating: that is, ab-stinence from Communion would be akcom13anied by the extraordi-nary inconvenience of danger to his reputation." Granted that this circumstance existed he could legitimately receive Communion after having made an act of perfect contrition. A third example was taken from Father Healy's Christian Guid-ance. Since Father Healy uses this particular example primarily to illustrate a necessity of communicating, it may be helpful to quote it in its entirety: "It has been the custom for some years, that the whole Baxter family receive Holy Communion on December 12, the day on which Mrs. Baxter died. Mr. Baxter had received Holy Communion the d~ay be, fore at the Sunday Mass and now he comes to church with his grown children. Unfortunately, he committed a serious sin ~he pre~ vious afternoon, and he i~ counting on going to confession before Mass. However, when' Baxter arrives he finds that Father Treacy, the only priest at this church, has already begun the prayers at ~he foot of the altar. Baxter cannot pretend that he violated the Eucha-ristic fast, for his children know that he did not. ' He cannot feign sickness, for he is obviously in the best of health. Unless he receives Holy Communion, his family will conclude that he is in the state of mortal sin." Father Healy comments: "Given these circumstances, Mr. Baxter may make an act of perfect contrition and licitly go to Holy Com-munion at this Mass." I believe that theologians would generally agree with this solutidn because the drcumstances all build up to an entirely exceptional situation--a situation which not only excludes the possibility of confession but also .makes abstinence from Com-munion a source of extraordinary inconvenience. And if the case were changed so that the children were young, instead of grown up, there might be the added factor of danger of bad example if the father were to abstain from Communion in the cir~umstances de-scribed. A case in which similar circumstances might prevail would be a wedding, when the bride and groom had planned on receiving GERALD KELLY ~ Review for Religious Co.mmunion together it the NuptialMass. It may be taken as a sound working 15rinciple that if abstinence from Communion would jeopardize one's reputation or give bad example, then Communion is necessary, in the sense of canon 856. But as I suggested,with reference to confession, it is easier to enunciate a principle like this thin to-judge its practical application. It is sometimes said, for instance, that these inconveniences are apt to ex-is't in a convent, or when Sisters go to Communion daily in the parish church, or when they receive Communion with the children on special occasions, such as the First Friday. We are dealing here with a question of fact, and I certainly would not want to be dogmatic m affirming or denying the existence of the conditions. If they exist, they constitute a necessity of communicating. But clearly the Church d6es not want them to exist; and there is no valid reason why they should exist, because occasional abstinence from Communion is cer-tainly not a ~ound basis for either suspicion or scandal. All theologians say that the mere desire to receive Communion does not rfiake Communion a riecessity. In other words, the sorrow felt by a devout person who is deprived of Communion is not an extraordinary inconvenience in the sense of canon 856. This is un-doubtedly true when the omission of Communion would be required foronly a day or two. But I think there is room for an easier judg-ment in the case of a devout daily communicant, e~pecially a reh-gious, who might have to omit Communion for a rather l~ong time. I am thinking 15art~cularly of an earnest religious who might very rarely commit a serious sin and who on one of these rare "occasions might be in circumstances in which confession would be impossible for a week or so. I believe that abstinence from Communion during all that time would constitute an e~traordinary hardship for such a religious a hardship of such an exceptional nature as to constitute a justification for receiving Holy Communion after regaining grace through perfect contrition. This case is admittedly rare; but it can happen, especially in some rural districts. Throughout this present section I have tried to~ stress two points: first, that the combination of circumstances demanded by the latter part of canon 856 ~should be seldom ~erified; and secondly, that it can be verified occasionally, even in the case of religious. But when-ever a religious finds that these exceptions are frequent, there is some-thing radically wrong a situation which should not exist andwhich must be corrected. In this regard, I should.like to refer to a question 146 ! May, 1953 ~ONFESSION BEFORE COMMUNION answered inan earlier number'of this REVIEW (V, 70-71) that con-cerned a young Sister with aproblem that called for frequent con-fession. She was in a islace where such frequent confession was prac-. tically impossible and she thought that "frequent abstaining from Communion. especially as this might often be for several days a~ a time, would enable others to suspect her trouble." I believe that the answer we published at that time bears repetition here! "It is not easy to answer a problem like this in a few words; but we can give a general idea of the points that must be considered. An occasional emergency when Communion is judged necessary and con-fession is impossible is understandable and might occur in the life of almost anyone. But a state of affairs that makes such emergencies more or less habitual ought to beremedied. Ii~ the case referred to in the question, the religitius should ask for a change of reside~ace that .would enable her to confess when necessary and to obtain competent dire. ction concerning her problem. If she cannot bring herself to ask for the change and is unabld to cle~ar up the problem, she ought seri-ously to consider whether she has the requisite qualities for leading the religious.life. Decisions like this ought to be made while religious are still young. If some problems are not faced, and settled in the early years of the religious life they can eventually reach a point where a satisfactory solution is practica'lly impossible." , The change of residence suggested in this answer can hardly be made jtidiciously unless thesuperior is given some information as to the nature of the problem. (Cf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VI, 242- 47.) Humility, therefore, is a requisite for the ~eligious: but need-less to say a religious who is unwilling to practice such humility when salvation itself might be concerned has lost his sense of values. On the other hand, the superior should be approachable, sympathetic, and very careful to observe, strict secrecy. IV, Precautt'ons to be taken to avoid the unnecessary use o[ excep-tions to the ordinary law o[ con[ession be[ore Communi, on and to guard against sacrilegious Communions. Under date of December 8, 193 8. the Sacred Congregation of the Sacraments issued an instruction for local ordinaries and majo~ reli-gious superiors which called attention to the fact that frequency of Communion could le]d to diminished esteem, for the Blessed Sacra-ment and that reception in groups could lead to sacrilegious Com-munions. The purpose of the instruction was to outline a number of steps tobe taken to preclude these evils. There is a complete English 1417 GERALD KELLY version of this instruction in Canon Law Digest, II, 208.-15; an out-line in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, III, 268-270. In the same number of the REVIEW (pp. 252-67), is a commentary on the instruction by Father I~mile Bergh, S.2., together with some notes by the editors and some references to other commentaries. Since these various ref-erences cover the matter completely, I shall conclude the present article with only brief references to some of the main precautions. The first precaution is t~ give proper doctrinal and ascetical in-struction regarding the Holy Eucharist. This kind of instruction should engender a profound esteem for the Blessed Sacrament, a de-sire to communicate frequently arid worthily, and a wholesome abhorrence of sacrilege. Through such instruction one would see that daily Communion is a great privilege, but not a necessity Moreover, though Communion is not reserved to the saints, it does suppose a minimum disposition of freedom from mortal sin, and nothing justifies its conscious reception in this state. And although One need not have tl~e most perfect motive, such as disinterested love of God, one should have a supernatural .motive, such as the desire to avoid sin, preserve grace, grow in grace, and so on. Should instruction be given, not only about the necessityof re-gaining grace through confession, but also about the exception which permits .the reception of Communion with only an act of perfect cbn-trition? If one were to judge from some of the religious texts I have seen, one would conclude that the faithful are to be told only about the necessity of confession, and nothing about the exceptions men-tioned in canon 856. This does not seem ~air. If the faithful are obliged to keep a law, they are entitled to know what the law means, how seriously it obliges, and wh~t are at least the more common legitimate exceptions. I admit that this has to be adapted to the age of the people. Yet surely even a child can be taught that if he com'- mits a mortal sin he should go to confession before receiving Com-munion, but if he cannot avoid going to Communion and cannot get to confession, then he should make an act of perfect contrition before Communion. He migh~ also be told that if ever he should have to do this, it would be well for him to explain the case in the next confession and see.whether the confessor would want to 'give him some advi~ for the' future. A second precaution is to provide ample opportunity for confes-sion before Communion. For religious in particular this means safe-guarding the liberty of confession as granted in the canons: and for 148 May, 19~3 CONI~SSION BEFORE COMMUNION parishes, schools, institutions, and religious houses,, it means that whenever it is feasible a confessor-should be available before Mass. This latter provision should certainly be very helpful in larger con-vents, but I do not clearly see how it would be either convenient or effective in some very small convents. A third precaution is to avoid practices that make it difficult for individuals to abstain from Comfiaunion. It is ordinarily not pru-dent, for instance, for ateacher to say to a pupil, or a superior tb a subject: "What's the matter--are you ill? I noticed you didn't go-to Communion this morning." Also, if a "general" Communion is bad, it should be in such a way that no one feels obliged to go or tl~at no attention will be called to those who do not go. So, too, prizes are not to be given for frequent Communion, and contests that highlight ¯ the reception of Communion by individuals should not be had. As regards circumstances that make it difficult to abstain from Communion, the instruction, referring especially to the effect of these things on young people, said there should be "no rigid and quasi-military "or~ter in coming up, no insignia to be worn by those who receive Communion, etc." Some commentators have inferred from this that communities of religious women ought to abandon their custom of approaching the Communion rail in a certain order. Some have put this rather strongly, ~as if the instruction demanded it. One of the milder comments runs as follows: "It would certainly be praise-worthy and accord.in.g to the spirit of the Instruction if the rigid and almost sacrosanct order of aproaching, the communion rails (Mother Superior, the Assistant, the senior nuns, etc.) were abolished: in con-vents human respect may do more mischief than in men's communi-ties." No doubt, good might come from dropping the order of preced-ence; but I do not shar the great enthusiasm of some writers about its possible good effec.ts. For one thing,1 a large number of otir ~reli-gious are' in small communities, where abstaining from Communion wouldbe noticeable no matter what order or lack of order prevailed, And even as regards larger communities, I wonder how long it would take, after the prescribed order of precedence had been dropped, for the religious to establish their own order. Most. of us are confirmed routinists. Give a community .enough time--and I doubt whether much time would be requ.ired-v-and one would note that the same ones go to Communion first, the same ones go las~, and of course the" same ones are'in the middle. Perhaps I am wrong. But if I am 149 GERALD KELLY .right, then the best precaution is notin the "mechanics" of going Communion, but in the general cultivation of a mental attitude which allows everyone liberty of spirit, both in going to confession and in abstaining from Communion. NATIONAL EQUIVALENTS FOR."I0,000 GOLD FRANCS" According to the announcement of the Congregation of Religious (see p. 150) the official equivalents of l O,O00 gold francs or lire for the principal countries are North and Central America 5,000 American dollars Argentina 100,000 Argentine pesos Belgium 250,000 Belgian francs Brazil 150,000' Cruzeiros Canada 5,000 ~ Canadian dollars Colombia 15,000 Colombian pesos Egypt 2,000 Egyptian pounds France 2,000,000 Franch francs Germany 20,000 German marks Great Britain' 2,000 Pounds sterling India 25,000 Indian rupees Italy 3,000,000 Italian 1ire Netherlands 20,000 Dutch guilders Philippines 15,000 Philippine pesos Portugal 150,000 Portuguese escudos Spain 200,000 Spanish pesetas Switzerland 20,000 Swiss francs Turkey 20,000 Turkish life Uruguay 15,000 Uruguayan pesos Venezuel~ 15,000 Venezuelan bolivars Countries not listed above should take as their norm the value of a neighboring country which is found to be in analogous conditions. :PROCEEDINGS OF CATHOLIC THEOLOGICAL SOCIETY 'At the seventh annual convention of the Catholic Theological Society of Amen'- ca, which was held at Notre Dame, Indiana, 3une 23-25, 1952, the following sub-jects were presented: "On the Essence of the Sacrifice "of the Mass," by Emmanuel Doronzo, O.M,I.; "The Common Good and the Socio-Economic Order," by Ger-ald Kelly, S.3.; "The Problem of Theology for the Laity," by Charles E. Sheedy, C.S:C. : "The Physician's Duty to Preserve Life by Extraordinary Means," by ,John A. Goodwine; and "The Current Protestant Critique of Catholicism in the Umted States," by Msgr. Thomas 3. McCarthy. Copies of the Proceedings are available to clerical non-members at $2.00 per copy. Older from: P. O. Box 24, 3amaica N.Y. 150 The Mys!:ic l Pr yer ot: h' argaret: Mary . A. Herbst, S.3. ST. MARGARET M~RY is one of the great mystics, oi i'fiodern times. On the visions and the revelations she received from Qur Lord is based, historically speaking; Devotion to the Sacred Heart in its modern form. This article will try to illustrate each of the degrees of mystical prayer from her own life and. writings. It should be noted that it is not easy to do this in such a precise manner that the quotation might not also apply to the other degrees. Let me preface a few remarks. ,In the first place, we ought not look askance at, be suspicious of. or afraid of the mystics.There really is nothing wrong with them nor with mysticism.'. Those who are humble and obedient, and keep in touch with their spiritual director need have no fear of becoming_psychopathic or of being deceived by the devil. Secondly, visions, levitation, and the like are merely acci-dental phenomena of the mystical life. They are not at all necessary to a life of infused prayer. Thirdly,, one who has lived a fervent re-ligious life for a.period of years ought to be ready for infused or mys-tical contemplation if God chboses to raise him to it. It is the "logi-cal," but not the necessary, sequence of acquired contemplation. Father Poulain, the author of the well-known work, The Graces of Interior Pra~ler, defines infused contemplation: "Those supe~- natural: acts or states which no effort or labour on our. part can suc-ceed in producing, even in the'slightest degree or for a single inst~lnt, are called mystical." They are.infused, poured into the soul as a pure gift of God, without our being able to attain them by our own efforts. 'This .is higher, ex, traordinary contemplation. We cannot soar to'these heights without the wi,ngs God furnishes. He determines when, how, and for how long it is to be given. It is passive prayer: the soul no longer takes the initiative, but God fastens its attention lovingly onHimselfl The s0ul is not idle though. It is intensely active under the operation of grace. It is a special kind of knowledge of God which lies somewhere between the knowledge of faith and the b~atific vision and shares in faith's obscurity. It really baffles descrip-tion and has in it mysterious suffering and intense happiness. It is an intellectual experimental knowledge of God. 151 C A HERBST Reotew for Rehg~ous St. Margaret Mary describes it: "I felt Him always near me, as one feels himself near another at night but cannot see him because of the darkness. The pdnetrating eyes of love make me see and feel Him in a most loving and certain way, and under various aspects . .This infinite grandeur encompasses me with its power and so takes posses-sion of mine and of my whole body and soul that I think I can say that I no longer have any power over myself." (Letter 1~3.~) The first degree or state of the mystical union is the Prayer of Quiet. Here God takes over the higher faculties of the soul, the will and the understanding, but leaves the imagination and the exterior senses free. Therefore there can be distractions. The soul experiences God's presence and reposes joyously in it, but only f.or very brief pe-riods of time. As an initial stage of this prayer of quiet there is the First Night of the Soul, or Night of Sense. In this the one domi-nating thought or idea of the prayer of simplicity is intensified, there is habitual aridity and a great, anxious y~arning for God. The dis-taste for things of sense grows and God works gently and almost un-noticed on the soul in a special way. A characteristic of this Night is inability to follow set forms of prayer. St. Margaret Mary says: "I did my utmost to follow the method of pray, er and other practices which were taught me, but I was not able to retain anything. It was in vain that I read my points of meditation, for all variished from my mind, and I could neither learn nor retain anything except what my Divine Master taught me." (Autobiography, No. 47.) The second degree of mystical prayer is the Prayer of Full Union. Now God takes over not only the will and the intellect but also the imagination and interior senses. Therefore there are no more dis-tractions. The soul is fully occupied with God. St. Margaret Mary describes it well when she says that God "presented Himself to me in the mystery in which He desired me to consider Him, applied my mind so closely to it, and kept my soul and all my powers so ab-sorbed in Him that I felt no distraction . . . being then so absorbed in prayer that I never felt weary" (Ibid., No, 12). , Any doubts or fears of being deceived are gone now. God's presence is ?xperienced "in a manner so real and sensible as to be beyond all doubt, by reason of the.effects which this favour produced in me, fearful, as I always am, of deceiving myself, in anything that I say of what passes in me" (Ibid., No. 53). .In this degree there is "profound peace, joy, and satis{action" (Letter 133). It is sometimes called the semi-ecstatic union. The exterior senses continue to act and one can, therefore, 152 Ma~ , 1953 PRAYER OF MARGARET MARY though with great effort, cease from prayer. Th third state of infused contemplation is the Ecstatic Union or Spiritual Espousals. Now not only the interior faculties are absorbed in God but the activity even of the exterior senses is suspended. .The whole person, body and soul, is taken over by God. The body be-comes fixed and rigid as though dead. ,Communication with the ex-terior world is all but severed. The power of voluntary movement ¯ is gone. One cannot emerge from this state at will, but only when God determines or at the command of a superior. Since St. Margaret Mary was a great ecstatic, she can describe this state for us. "I felt myself wholly penetrated with the Divine Pres-ence, but to such a degree that I lost all thought of myself and of the place where I was, and abandoned myself to this Divine Spirit, yielding up my heart to the power of His love" (Ai~tobiography, No. 53). "On orie occasion . . . feeling wholly withdrawn within myself by an extraordinary recollection of all my senses and powers, Jesus Christ, my sweet Master, presented Himself to me" (Ibid,, No. 55). "After such a signal favour which lasted for a long time, I remained for several days,.as it were, on fire and inebriated (with divine love) and so completely out of myself, that I had to do my-self violence in order to utter a single word" (Ibid., No. 54). "I lost all cor;sciousness during that time and I no longer knew where I was. When they came to withdraw me, seeing that I could make no reply, nor even stand except with great difficulty, they led me to Out Mother. On seeing me thus, as it were, completely beside myself, all burning and trembling on my knees before her, she mortified me to the utmost of her power, which pleased me and filled me with incred-ible joy" (Ibid., No. 58). Let it be remarked that the Pray.er of Quiet, the Prayer of Full Union, and the Prayer of Ecstatic Union are but three degrees of the specifically same grace of supernatural prayer. In the Prayer of Quiet the .union is incomplete, weak, doubted, obscure. Inthe Prayer of Full Union there are no distractions and the whole interior is taken up with God. In the Prayer of Ecstatic Union even the exterior man, the senses, are captured and absorbed in God. These are three degrees of infused contemplation: weak, medium, energetic. The transitions b.~tween them are imperceptible, much like the colors in the rainbow. It is different with the fourth and highest degree of infused prayer, the Transforming Union or Mystical Marriage. This differs 153 C. A. HERBST Reoieto for Religious specifically, not merely intensively, from the other three. Before entering it the soul must go through the Second Night, or the Night of the Spirit. ' Since mystical marriage is permanent whereas the th~ree preceding stages are transient, thesoul must be profoundly and ~adi- . tally purified from all its habitual, and actual imperfections. The poor, weak soul is dazed and pained by the bright light of God much ag the eyes of the body are by looking into the sun. Green wood must be dried out and blackened by fire before it itself will become inflamed. The sufferings of this Night are terrible. St. Margaret Mary says: "His sanctity is in~xorabl~, and it seems to me there is no suffering more exquisite than that through which He makes a soul pass when'He wants to purify it in order'to corn-, muica.te'Himself to it" (Letter 132). Yet the soul is not disturbed and is perfectly conformed to God's will. ""Yet I suffer all this with perfect serenity, content to cling to His holy will. If only He is con-tent I am satisfied" (Letter 135). The mind and will, the whole soul, even the body, is in anguish. "My whole being, body and soul, is plunged jn suffering., desiring only what is pleasing to my Sovereign Who is sacrificing me, before Whom I am a sighing victim immolated to divine justice" (lbid). But the soul has a great Sense of security. "I sometimes think that all hell is let loose against me to annihilate me, so fiercely am I attacked on all sides. But I am not afraid, deeply intrenched as I am within my strong fortress which is the divine Heart of my divine Master" (Letter 136). The soul is strong, too, and all aflame with the love of the Divine Spouse. But to return to the Transforming Union. Being a mystical marriage, it is most intimate. "I felt myself .wholly penetrated w~th that Divine Presence, but to such a degree that I 'lost all thought of myself and of the piace where I"was, and abandoned myself to this , Divine Spirit, yielding up my heart to the power of His love. Her made me repose for a long time upon His Sacred ~Breast, where He' disclosed to me the marvels of His love and tbe inexplicable secrets of His Sacred Heart, which so far He had concealed from me." (Auto-, bioqrapby, No. 67). The soul is serene in its perfect enjoyment of, God. "My heart is so centered there that it finds repose only if it can enjo, y Him continually: [ was made just for that" (Letter 133). .And, like marriage, this union is indissolul~ie. "And when you com-mit some fault, I shall purge it away with suffering if you do not do 'it yourself with penance. I shall never.deprive you of My presence on that account, but I will make it so painful for you that it will, M~, 1953 take the place of every other torment" (Ibid.). These are the char-acteristics which put thi~ highest degree of infused contemplation in a class by itself. Habitual imaginative visions of Christ may occur in this state. St. Margaret Mary narrates one. "Feeling wholly withdrawn within myself by an extraordinary recollection of all my senses and powers, Jesus Christ, my sweet Master. presented Himself to me. all resplend-ent with glory, His Five 'Wounds shining like so many suns. Flames issued from every part of His Sacred Humanity especially from His Adorable Bosom. which resembled an open furnace and disclosed to me His most loving and most amiable Hefirt, which was the living . source of these flames. It was then that He made known to me the ineffable marvels of His pure (love) and sho(ved me to what an ex-cess He had loved men." (Autobiographg, No. 55.) Visions'of the Blessed Tr.inity are in place here, too. "The Three Persons of the Adorable Trinity presented themselves to me and filled my soul'with inexpressible'consolation. But I cannot well explain what then occurred, except that it seemed to me the Eternal Father presented, me with a very heavy cross beset with thorns and sur-' rounded with various instruments of the Passion and said to me: 'See, My daughter, I make thee the same present which I made to My Beloved Son.' 'And I,' said Our Lord Jesus Christ, 'will fasten thee to the crbss as I Myself was fastened to it and will bear thee faithful company.' The Third Adorable Person then said that, being Love Itself. He would purify and consume me thereon. My soul was filled with unutterable peace and joy, and the impression made upon it by the Divine Persons has never been effaced." (Ibid., No. 59.) This highest form of prayer here on earth brings with it an in-satiable thirst for suffering. St. Margaret Mary had this, too. "I will only sa~; that it has given me such an intense love of the cross that I cannot .live a moment without suffering, but suffering in si-lence, without consolation, alleviation or compassion, and in fine dying with the Sovereign of my soul, overwhelmed .by the cross of every kind of opprobrium, of sorrow and of humiliation, forgotten and despised by all." (Ibid., No. 50.) To sum up. After purifying the soul b~r habitual aridity and an anxious yearning for ,God in the Night of Sense, God takes over the highest part and makes it repose joyously' in Himself in the Prayer of Quiet. In Full Union the imagination and interior senses are also 155 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS l~eotew ~or l~eltgtous taken so that ~here are no more distractions and the soul is fully oc-cupied qcith Him. In E.cstatic, Uriion the outer senses, too, are wrapt in God, and the whole person, body and soul, is united with Him Finally comes the indissoluble bond of Mystical Marriage, in wh,ch the soul enjoys the mbst intimate union with God possible in this life, a foretaste of the beatific vision. II In an institute in which the. novitiateiasts for two years~ may the first profession be made on the recurring date (two years later) of admission to the novitiate, or must it be postponed for an additional ,day7 For example, a novice is admitted to the novitiate on August 15, 19S3. May he /hake his profession on Au~cjust IS, 19SS, or must he wait till August 16, 19S57 I understand that if there were question of a one-year novlt[ate, profession could not be made till the lapse of one year plus one day. If the same rule does ;not hold in the case "of the two-year novitiate mentioned above, what is the reason for the discrepancy7 A general rule is that the provi.gions of the constitutions are to be observed. Sometimes a provision touches upon the validity of an action. If the constitutions explicitly require two complete years of now-tiate for t~alidit~, then such provisiqn 'would have to be observed for the validity of subsequent profession. In that case, if the novitiate is begun on August 15, 1953, first vows could not be taken until Au-gust 16, 1955. The reason is that entrance to the novitiate is not made at midnight. Consequently, according to canon 34, § 3, 3% since the day of entrance is not counted, the two years of novitiate .would be completed (provided there had been~no canonical inter-ru]~ tion nor suspension of the novitiate) only at midnight between August 15 and 16, 1955. Hence first vows could not be taken until the day following the anniversary date of entrance to the novitiate. Aside from such particular law, the common law as expressed m canon 555, § 1, 2° of the Code, requires only one complete, unin-terrupted year of novitiate for validity. ,Just as in the supposition above, first profession therefore cannot be made onthe anniversary of entrance to the novitiate, but the novice midst wait until the follow-ing day, under pain of an invalid profession. 156 Ma~, 1953 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS If the constitutions of an in~stitute prescribe more than one year of novitiate, the extra time is notrequired for the validity of the pro-fession, unless the constitutions expressly declare otherwise (canon 555, § 2). The added time (in Our case, one year) would be for licitness but not for validity of subsequent profession. Custom and superidrs then would' be the best interpreters of the requirements of the constitutions on the point of whether first profession is to be made on the recurring second anniversary of entrance to the novitiate or not until the following day. In either event in this last supposi-tiom neither ~ractice would affect the validity of the profession. This explains why first profession after a two-yea,r novitiate often'might be made on the anniversary of reception into the noviti-ate, while it cannot be made thus after a one-year novitiate. --12m Some religious are of the ol~inlon that certain community prayers, such as the rosary, meditation, and the like, are to be interrupted to say the Angelus as soon as the Angelus bell is rung. Must this be done, or would not the mere recitation of the Angelus prayers three times a day suffice to gain the indulgences? The 1952 edition of the official collection of indulgences, the Enchicidion Indulgentiarum: Preces et Pia Opera, states that the faithful may gain the indulgepces attached to the .recitation of 'the Angelus if 'they recite the prayers at dawn, at noo~n, anal at eventide, or" as soon after these times as they can (no. 331). It is not necessary to~interrupt the rosary, meditation, and the like, in order to say the Angelus as soon as the bell is rung. Is it proper to seat the st,',dents at Mass according to whether they will receive Holy Communion or not? It has been the practice to designate certain sections for those who are going to. Holy Communion and other sections for those who are not. Thereason for such procedure is to obtain order. In its reserved Instruction on precautions to be taken against abuses in the daily reception of Holy Communion (the complete English text is in the Canon Law Digest, .II, pages 208-215), the Sacre~d Congregation of the Sacraments in 1938 remarked that "the danger ofreceiving Communion unworthily.is increased when the faithful, especially the young, approach the Holy Table; not singly but generally and in a body a.s. .happens.frequently 157 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Reuteto [or 'Rehgto,,s in colleges and institutions for the training and education of Chris-tian youth." (Canon Law Digest, II. 209). Again, "When Holy Communion is being received, all those things are to be avoided which create greater difficulty for a young person who wishes to abstain from Holy Communion, but in such a way that his absti-nence will not be noticed: hence there should be no express invita-tion, no rigid and quasi-military order in coming.up, no insignia to be worn by those who'receive Communi6n, etc." (ibid., 214). The observance of order is, of course, a worthy motive. How-ever, the purpose of the Sacred Congregation, as manifested in its Instruction, is to safeguard the worthy reception of Holy Commun-ion by discouraging anything which would make communicants con-spicuous. Seating communicants in a special place makes them con-spicuous. ml4-- "The Mother General holds the first place in all the houses of the Community. Then follow the Members of the Council in the order of their election; ~hen the Secretary General, unless she is a member of the Coun-cil, and the Adminlstratrix General, in the Motherhouse: in other houses these latter take their rank after the Superior ,of the house." What is meant by these latter? Does it refer to the last two Offices mentioned, or does it refer to the Council Members also? Ira Council Member visits one of the houses where the Sisters are stationed, does she take .precedence over th'e Local Superior who is only an appointed person while the Council 'l~lember was elected? In part canon 106 says that: 1. One who represents another enjoys the precedence that per.son has. But anyone who is in a council or similar me~ting as a proxy yields precedence to those of thesame rank wh~ are personally present. , 2. A person who has authority over other physical or moral persons has right of precedence over them. These are general norms. The highest superior of the institute, therefore, always and everywhere has precedence over all his subjects If someone represents him, that person likewise enjoys the precedence of the superior represented. Provincial and local superiors have pre-cedence in their territory or houses, unless a higher superior or h~s proxy is present. In regard to other officials, there is great divergence among different religious,institutes. "In ~ach case the constitutions or else legitimate custom will have to be considered. 158 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS In our specific case, the general councillors are being considered in their proper role, and not as proxies. Do the constitutions give them precedence over local superiors in the latters' houses?' It is not clear that.they do, since the ouestioned words these latter might be inter-preted as ~ivin~ or denying such precedence. (As a matter of fact, in some institutes b~r a clear provision of the constitutions general coun-cillors have such precedence, especially in more recent congregations; in others they do, not.) Since the constitutions do not seem t6 settle the matter clearly, the solution would be sought in legitimate cus-. tom, which in this case~ would mean the way in which the,disputed phrase of the constitutions has been habitually interpreted, If 'no such consistent interpretation exists, it seems that the" words these latter refer to the secretary general and theadministratrix general, so that councillors general would take precgdence over local superiors even in the farters' own hoi~ses. ! Is it absolutely necessary that the entlre'concjrecjatlon turn and face each station of the cross in order to obtain all of the indulcjences attached to that pious exercise? Ordinarily a person making the stations of the cross must movg from station to station ai part of the requirement for gaining the in-dulgences attached to that exercise. When t.here is question of a large group of people, however, confusion or disorder might result from so many moving about. The Sacred Congregation of Indulgences on August 6, 1757, decided that in that case the method proposed by St. Leonard of Port Mafirice for making the stations is to be used. According to this method the people remain'in their places, while a priest.with two acoly'tes moves from station to station, stopping ~it each to recite the customary prayers to which the faithful reply. This decree was reaffirmed in a response from the Sacred Penitentiary, March 20, 1946.(A.A.S., XXXVHI [1946], 160). In connection with the foregoi.ng method of making the stations, the Subsecretary for the Section on Indulgences in the Sacred Peni-tentiary, Serafino de Angelis, in his book De lndulgentiis (1946): n. 341 b, remarks that the' people are to be advised, while remaining in their places, to face each station, rise, genuflect, and recite the pray-ers. From this one would conclude that, when the way of the cross is being made according to the method of St. Leonard of Port Mau-rice, it is not absolutely necessary for the.entire congregation to face each station in order to gain thedndulgences. 159 . QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS The use o~ St. Leonard's method has b~en extended by several official pronouncements (one of these: the reply of the Sacred Peni-tentiary mentioned above) to the members of religious institutes in like circumstances in their chapels. In such circumstances only'one religious, man or woman as the case may be, moves from station to station. By its response of March '20, 1946, the Sacred Peniten-tiary recognized this method also for use in boarding schools and the Will you kindly tell me how many votes constitute an "absolute major-ity" in a house of thirteen vocals7 Also how many votes constitute a "rda-tlve majority" in the same house? When there are thirteen valid votes, seven of them constitute an absolute majority, since such a majority is effected by any number exceeding one half the number of valid votes. A relative majority is had by a candidate who receives more vahd votes than any other candidate, but less than all the others taken to-gether. Thus in our case if three'candidates received respectively six, four, and three votes, the candidate with the six votes would have a relative majority over the other two candidates. What five scapulars comprise thefivefold scapular? The following scapulars are popularly known as the "fivefold scapular" or the "five scapulars." 1) The brown scapular of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Mount Carmel: proper to the Carmehtes, the best known of all the scapulars. 2) The wfiite scapular (with a blue and red cross) of the Most Holy Trinity: proper to the order of Trinitarians. 3) The red scapular of the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ: pr6per to the Congregation of the Mission (Lazarists) 4) The black scapular of the Seven Dolors of the Blessed Virgin Mary: proper to the order of the Servites of Mary. 5) The blue scapular of the Immaculat~ Conception: proper to the order of Cler,cs Regular (Theatines). HOSPITAL CONFESSION CARD A plastic-coated Confessio'n Card for the sick, with prayers before and after ,I confession, has been designed by the Rev. Thomas Sullivan, C.S.V., chaplain of St. Luke's Hospital, Aberdeen, South Dakota. It is similar in size and design to the Communion Card (REVIEW, Sept., 1952, p." 248) by the same author, now m use in more than 250 hospitals. Both cards bear the i.mprimatur of Bishop liam O. Brady of Sioux Falls. Each sells at 20 cents and may be ordered from the Presentation Sisters, Aberdeen, South Dakota. 160 Book "Reviews THE SACRED CANONS. By John A. Abbo, S.T.L., J.C.D., and Jerome D. Hannan, A.M., LL.B., S.T.D., J.C.D. Pages in Volumes: I, xxll -k 871~ II, 936. B. Herder Book Company, Sf. Louis, 19S2. Two-volume set, $19.00. "Amon~ other objectives, the work, was begun to answer in some degreeothe spontaneous demand for a better knowledge of ecclesiastical law that has arisen in English-speaking countries among religious who are not clerics and among laymen, especially in the professions.'.' It is from this standpoint that this book is reviewed. After a brief his-torical introdtictioh the learned authors give a statement of the law as contained in the canons of the Code, together with a running commentary. The order of treatment and the division~ of the work are identical with that of the Latin Code, and the numbers of the canons are used instead of paragraph numbers. In the distribution of the matter the authors have made their book especially .useful to non-clerical religious and to the laity. Of the 1800 pages of text con-rained in the two volumes, over 1500 are devoted to the commentary on the three first books of the Code of Canon Law, whereas books four and five of the Code, which are of lesser interest to non-clerical readers~ are taken care of in little more than one hundred pages. Of particular importance is the treatment given tothe seven sac-rament~, which is usually omitted in whole or in part in treatises on Canon Law and transferred to the writers on Moral Theology. 209 pages are devoted to the canons dealing with "Religious" and will" be of great use for religious Brothers and Sisters. All the latest decrees of the Holy See are reported, and there are numerous references to American civil law/especially in the titles concerning church property, An index with over 4500 references, which makes it easy for the reader to find any particular subject, concludes the work. The publisl~ers plan "to keep this commentary up to date by adding, at each reprinting, a supplement containing decisions of the Holy See issued subsequent to the first edition, and these will be available' to purchasers of earlier printings at a nominal cost. The only defect in the book is the lack of a table of contents. While the clerical reader~ will easily follow the canon numbers with which he is familiar from the Latin Code, ,the non-clerical reader has no way of getting a bird's-.eye view of the entire field in order to b~- 161 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS ' Re~Jieto fbr Religiou~ come acquainted with it, so that he may choose certain parts for reading and study. Su~ch a table of contents should be added to the next printing, and copies made available to all purchasers of this first edition. , We recommend this book to all religious---especially to religious Brothers and Sisters who will find it a great help in solving personal problems as religious, as well as a source of information in preparing classes in. religion and church history. Not only higher superiors, but every religious communify should have a copy of it. --ADAM C. ELLIS, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part. these notices are purely descriptive, based on a cursory examina-tion of the books listed.] BENZIGER BROTHERS, INC., 6-8 Barclay St., NewYork 8, N.Y. The Burning Flame. By Francis Beauchesne Thornton. The story of Guiseppe Sarto, the peasant boy who became the saintly Pope Plus X, told in popular style by Father Thornton, an associate editor of the Catholic Digest. " Pp. 216. $3.00. BRUCE PUBLISHING CO., 400 N. Broadway, Milwaukee 1, Wisc Dear 8istec. By Catherine de Hueck, Brief letters to help Sisters train lay leaders. PI~. 80. $2.00. BIBLIOTHEQUE DU SCHOLASTICAT, L'Immacul&-Conception, 1855,, rue Rachel Est, Montreal .34, Canada. La Virginitd Chrdtienne. ~ By Francois Bourassa, S.J. A full treatment of the subject of Christian virginity, showing its oppor-tunities for full ahd harm6nious development of persgnal perfection. Pp. 174. $1.25. CATECHETICAL GUILD, St. Paul 1; Minnesota. Pocket book editions of You Can Change the Worl

Issue 9.3 of the Review for Religious, 1950. ; Review for Religious MAY 15, 1950 E~es Right? ~ ~ichard Leo Heppler~ C:onformity wffh Christ C;.A. Herbst the Holy Ghost ° '" Leo A. Coressel Psychometrics and R.~ligious I~i~e ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ Sister M. Digne Lay Religious and Laws of Bishops Jose ph F. Gallen ~ue~s÷ions and Answers. Book Reviews Summer Sessions Report to Rome RI::¥11:::W FOR Ri::LI IOUS VOLUME IX MAY, 1950 NUMBER CONTENTS EYES RIGHT?--Richard Leo Heppler, O.F.M .1.1.3 SUMMER SESSIONS . 118 CONFORMITY WITH CHRIST IN HIS SUFFERING-- C. A. Herbst, S.2 . 119 ATOMIC BROTHERHOOD CAMPAIGN . ~ . 124 OF THE HOLY GHOST, WHO PROCEEDS AS LOVE-- Leo A. Coressel, S.J . 125 PRACTICAL APPLICATION OF PSYCHOMETRICS TO RELIGIOUS LIFE--~Sister M. Digna, O.S.B . 131 LAY RELIGIOUS AND THE LAWS OF BISHOPS ON CONFESSION-- 2oseph F. Gallen, S.J . 140 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 152 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 13. About the Little Office . 153 14. "Happy Death" Crucifixes . . . 1"54 15. Lay Superiors find Excuses from Fasting .154 16. Blessing by Mother Superior . 157 17. "'Sacrament of the Present Moment" . . 157 BOOK NOTICES . 158 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . . ' . 163 THE EYMARD LIBRARY . 165 . REPORT TO ROME '. . 166 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1950. Vol. IX, No. 3. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Streef, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Copyright, 1950, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. 'Eyes Right:? Richard Leo Heppler, O.F.M.' ALL IN ALL. over the years, Noah Webster's work has been givin~ satisfactory service. Timeand again many of us have turned-to it in our difficu!ties and.have.come away not only with knowledge but also with] a: more 13rofound appreciation of the man's ability to be neat, exacL and brief. Now, it would be mani-festly unfair to accuse Mr. Webster of 1~eing unromantic in his defini-tions. He has no more title to be chivalrous with his words than Dr. Einstein has to be amateurish with his theories. Consequently, a love-smitten collegian might throw his dictionary away in disgust when he reads that the eye is "the organ of sight: esp., the nearly spherical mass, the eyeball, . in the bony cavity of the skull, or the orbit including eyelids, eyelashes, eyebrow." The yo,uth would avow that the great Noah Webster had never seen the eyes of his Hazel. And he might even be tempted to dare the venerable Mr. Webster--or anyone else--to try to describe the elusive laughter lurking in his Hazel's eyes. Naturally, we religious do not expect Mr. Webster to go'beyond his definitions; we do not expect him to try to describe the eyes we would most desire to have looked into. What words could ever describe the human eyes of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ? For that.matter, who could ever describe the maternal eyes of Our Blessed Lady, the adoring eyes of St. Jose'ph, thd discerning eyes of the Magi, the patient eyes of Simeon, the priestly eyes 0t: St. Jdhn, the sympa-thetic eyes of VeronicL the contrite eyes of Mary Magdalene, the tdar-dimmed eyes of St. Peter, the purified eyes of St. Paul? And what about the eyes we would-not like to have seen? Isn't it just as well that Noah Webster did not attempt to describe the treacherous eyes of Judas, the murderous eyes of Barabbas, the stony eyes of Annas, the crafty eyes of Caiphas,the sneering eyes oi: the Pharisees, the wavering eyes of Pilate, the carnal eyes of Herod, the cold eyes of the Roman soldiers? That God gave us two ey.es to be used for His glory, religious readily admit. That it is possible for us to misuse them for our own greed, glory, and indulgence, no one will deny. To use our eyes th~ way God would have us use them and not the way our lower nature would incline us must be our constant effort. To aid us in this 113 RICHARD LEO HEPPLER Reoieu) [or Religious undertaking are countless 'angels and saints, and not the least among the latter is one who put his eyes to excellent advantage as long as he bad sight and then made proper use of blindness when God sent that. Some of the great artists and poets at times permitted themselves long, full, intoxicating gazes upon the teasing loveliness of nature so as to feed their minds with matter for masterpieces. And, in direct opposition, some of the severest saintly ascetics refused to allow their eyes to regard the beauties of creation lest their souls be disturbed in the contemplation of Beauty Uncreated. But St. Francis of Assisi, the poet, artist, and ascetic, was granted the gift of seeing the true beauty of this universe with unclouded vision while recognizing the unmistakable reflections of God's beauty everywhere he looked. He was poet and artist enough to appreciate all the moods and mani-festations of nature; he was saint enough to trace instinctively all loveliness back to its source. He could gaze for prayerful hours at sunlight and shadow and storm, at castle and cave and cathedral, at tomb and tent and tabernacle. He never tired thanking God for the moon and the stars and the rivers and the fields. He readily saw brothers' and sisters in birds and beasts and rain and fire and wind. It was part of his vocation to be an eye-opener for the rest of us. But it was his spiritual vision that saved him from being some-thing of a masculine, thirteenth-century Alice in Wonderland. All his life he saw very. repulsive beggars, but, as G. K. Chesterton says, he alway.s managed to see through the beggars and recognize Christ. There is no way of measuring the number of lepers he saw, but it is safe to say that he never looked upon one "of them without l~eing instantly reminded of the suffering Son of Man. That he never saw a lamb without thinking of the Lamb of God, and that children could walk away with his heart because Christ had favored them, and that a wounded bird could move him to tears, reveal a very deli-cate sensitiveness, But there was also a definitely virile spirituality in his view of things: he saw at close range rough bandits and tr'eated them like princely envoys; he looked upon Christian and Moslem soldiers ("murderers" might be more exact) and respected them as if they were martyrs of old; each condemned criminal was another Good Thief. Was he. unrealistic? Well, one day Brother Juniper told him that God had granted him a vision of h~ll and that he had seen no Friars there. To this St. Francis replied, "Brother Juniper, you did not look deep enough." A religious vocation is a calling to be a supernatural detective. 114 May, 1950 EYES RIGHT? God has generously scattered clues about Himself all arohnd us and He wants us to put them together and find out more about him. We have to try to see the hand of God and the love of God in every per-son we meet, in every place me go, in everyevent that happens to us. If we really try to be spiritual sleuths we shall be delighted with all the p6ssibilities around us. The bill-collector may be another St. Matthew, the doctor another St. Cosmas, the salesman another St. Peter of SienL the beggar another St. Benedict Joseph, the lawyer another St. Fidelis, the police captain another St. Sebastian, the sailor another St. Brendan, the altar, boy another St. John Berchmans, the taxi driver another St. Christopher, the farmer another St. Paschal Baylon. The same thing very easily could be continued in the fem-inine gender by one who knows the patronesses of girls who sell jewelry in the Five and Ten, girls who run elevators in Gimbel's, girls who serve aspirins in soaring airplanes, girls who daily pound their way towards heaven on typewriters, girls who slave at prosaic switch-boards, girls who teach nominative absolutes to bored high school seniors, girls who ease patients into dentists' chairs and money out of their pockets, and so on even to the girls who ride on motor-cycles, and the girls who engage in roller derbies. Everybody in the world is either an actual or a potential saint and should be viewed ¯ as such. If we are sharp detectives we shail discern the true dignity of the children who sit in front of us, the patients who lie upon our hospital beds, the employees who trim our lawns, run our errands, and mimeograph our notes. It is true that at meal time you may be tempted to say, "Young Jackson has big ears just like his father, and he is just as dumb." But you will know that God dearly loves both young Jackson and his father, even though He may have been lavish when he fashioned their ears and not when He doled out their brains. But it would be fatal to conclude that one can become an expert supernatural detective without practicing mortification of the eyes. Pretending that custody of the eyes is stupid is as absurd as pre-tending that Central Park is the Garden of Eden. If we really want "to trace I~he manifestations of God around us we must be willing to impose restraint upon gazing at anything and everything. If we sincerely desire to gaze forever upon the Beatific Vision we hav~ to restrict our gazing here below. The need of custody of the eyes as a bulwark for chastity is amply demonstrated by Sacred Scripture. Joseph was unjustly 115 RICHARD LEO HEPPLER Reoieu~ [or Religious thrown into prison because the wife of.Putiphar did not controi her eyes. King David, the boas~ of the chosen people, fell into a terrible sin because he permitted his eyes too much license. Here is what the Bible says of Holofernes when his soldidrs brought Judith to his tent: "And when she came into his presence forthwith Holofernes . was caught by his eyes." The sad story of the two evil ancients is but another proof that the eyes of young and old must be guarded. These two men were hel_,d in honor because of their age and their office. But they gazed immodestly upon' the chaste Susanna, and they were inflamed with lust for her. God saved Susanna arid con-founded the ancients and gave us the story as a concrete example of the meaning of the words of His Prophet Jeremias, "Death is come ,up through our Windows." But it is not into temptations against chastity alone that unre-strained liberty of the eyes can lead religious. If a Sister gazes with possessive eye, s at a statue or a book she sees in a store and determines to procure it without permission she can violate the vow of poverty. If a Brother gazes with undue complacency upon the saws, hatchets, or tractor permitted for his use, assured that he must have the latest and the best he may be guilty of faiIing in the virtue of poverty. If a priest, with satisfied superiority gazes upon his diplomas, citations, or signs of office he may be guilty of pride. That a religious might gaze upon the money in the community safe with avaricious eyes is not as likely as that he might gaze with eyes that are bigger than his stomach upon the steaks or lobsters in a choice restaurant. A Sister who with green eyes gazes upon .the new habit of another reveals tendencies towards envy. If to the detriment of his work and of his spiritual life a religious spends long periods of time looking over all the vacation-plan literature he can amass he may be guilty of sloth. One who watches the conduct of others with a view to censure them has not yet arrived at the perfection of charity. All religious can gaze upon holy water without any temptations whatsoever, but the same cannot be said of gazing upon fire-water. This could be continued in a figurative vein. To fail to see the hand of God in all the happenings of the day is to fail in the fullness of faith. To fail to see a friend of Christ in each member of the community is to bd weak in charity. To fail to see thewill of God in the commands of the superior is to be lacking in th~ complete spirit of obedience. To look only at the "dismal side of things is to reveal the absence of full trust and confidence in God. To look down 116 Ma~/, 1950 EYES RIGHT? upon others is a sign of pride, and to look up to others for recogni-tion and praise is an indication of human respect. St. Teresa tells us that she lost twelve years of spiritual growth because of her attachment to needless conversations. Who can measure the detriment to the interior life that is caused by unmorti- . fied eyes? The spirit of prayer may. be weakened, recollection destroyed, silence dissipated, andthe desire for perfection blighted by overindulgence in the reading of secular newspapers, magazines, and novels. Too much looking at television may not only drive a reli-gious to'an oculist; it may blind him to the importance of daily spir-itual reading. Too many movies, shows, and spectacles may per-manently stunt the growth of souls. But to walk around all day with our eyes closed or constantly cast down is to become something of a public menace. We might upset community life (if not a member of the community) if we were to fail to look where we were going. We might land in a hos-pital or a morgue if we refused to keep our eyes open while we were crossing city streets. Custody of the eyes does not mean that a reli-gious does not see the children in the classroom, the drugs in the pharmacy, the cows in the shed, or the fire in the boiler; it means that we do not allow dangerous images to remain in focus and that we do not lose sight of God no matter where we are. We can certainly better our spiritual vitality by using our eyes pr?perly. In every classroom, ward, shop, and corridor are cruci-fixes, statues, or holy pictures. What is the purpose of placing these pious objects in such obvious places?. Who but a novice "could ask that question? For who btit a novice could suspect that these objects have been placed where they can accumulate invisible dust and thus furnish the master or the mistress with ammunition for a daily cor-rection? On the other hand, some religious might be embarrassed if they were suddenly asked what picture hangs in the classroom they daily use or upon which wall in the tailor' shop does the crucifix hang. It should be easy for us to look long and lovingly at the crucifix, to see every detail of Christ's death, to read every line of the story of our redemption. St. Thomas Aquinas once asked St. Bona-venture whence he derived all his knowledge. Pointing to his cruci-fix, the Seraphic Doctor replied that from "this well-spring.of light and love"he drew whatever could be found in his lectures or writings. Armies of saints have learned the lessons of poverty, chastity, obedi-ence, humility, charity, patience, fortitude, self-denial, contrition, 117 RICHARD LEO HEPPLER zeal, gratitude, and confidence by spending long hours in the prayer-ful study of the crucifix. And it is comforting to know that we shall spend all eternity as the friends and companions of the saints upon whose pictures or statues we now look each day. Some people have strange vocations, and Mary Ann O'Donnell had one of the strangest. She was a blind girl who attended a Cath-olic college in the East. Each day, led by her seeing-eye dog, she came to class and took her notes in Braille and waited to be called on. The other students (they could see) resented the fact that the priest called on Mary Ann; they thought it was'unfair. But Mary Ann wanted to recite; she wanted to learn, and she did not want pity. MaryAnn stayed in college only two years; then she went away to recite the eternal praises of the Triune God and to gaze in rapture upon the Father of Lights. Probably she did not know that she was an apostle, but she did teach many of the collegians and the professors to thank God for the gift of sight. She could even have taught reli-gious who daily gaze upon the Eucharistic Lord as He is elevated at Mass or raised on high during Benediction to consecrate their eyes to God so that they may be sure to see Him face to face. SUMMER SESSIONS The Institute for Re.ligious at College Misericordia, Dallas, Penn-sylvania (a three-year summer course of twelve days in Canon Law and Ascetical Theology for Sisters), will be held this year August 19-30. This is the first year in the triennial course. The coubse in Canon Law is given by the Reverend 3oseph F. Gallen, S.3. that in Ascetical Theology by the Reverend Daniel ~1. M. Callahan, SJ., both of Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. The registra-tion is restricted to higher superiors, their councilors, mistresses of novices, and those in similar positions. Applications are to be addressed to Rev. ~loseph F. Gallen, SJ., Woodstock College, Wood-stock, Md. The seventh annual Psychological Institute will be conducted at the St. Coletta School for Exceptional Children, ~lefferson, Wiscon-sin, from ,luly 19 to August 27. The Cardinal Stritch College, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, sponsors this workship course for teachers who are interested in special education of handicapped children, and who wish to understand and help slow-learning children in the nor-mal classroom situation. Bulletin available upon request from the (Continued on P. 130) 118 Conl:ormi!:y wi!:h Christ: in His Suffering C. A. Herbst, S.J. 44~ND I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all things myself" (John 12:32). All things, especially lov.e, the greatest of all things, and the hearts of men. Love longs to be united with its object, to be assimilated to it, to be identified with it as much as possible. A worthy return love to Christ should be measured by the lengths to which His love has gone in loving me. "He loved me and delivered himself 'for me" (Gal. 2:20). One deeply in love with Our Lord has written: "Imagining Christ our Lord present and placed on the Cross, let me make a colloquy with Him: how from Creator He is come to making Himself man, and from eternal life is come to temporal death, and so to die for my sins. Likewise, looking at myself, what have I done for Christ, what I am doing for Christ, what I ought to do for Christ. And so, seeing Him such, and so nailed to the Cross, to go over that which will present itself to me." (Spiritual Exercises, Colloquy to the First Exercise.) What, according to the norm of worthy return love, will pyesent itself to me? St. Paul, a model for all who love Christ crucified, answered for all Christians for all time: "With Christ I am nailed to the cross" (Gal. 2:19). Christ was eager to suffer for me "hnto death, even to the death of the cross" (Phil. 2:8). He longed for that. "I have a baptism wherewith I am to be baptized: and how am I straitened until it be accomplished?" (Luke 12:50). He was so eager to get to His pas-sion that the disciples could scarcely keep up with Him. "And they were in the way going up to Jerusalem: and they were astonished, and following were afraid" (Mark 10:32). And why not? Was He not born for this? .The angel told the shepherds the night He was born: "This day is born to you a Saviour" (Luke 2:11), and in the infinitely loving designs of God salvation would come through His passion and death. In contemplating the persons present at the beginning of His suffering life we are urged "to look and consider what they are doing, as making a journey and laboring, that the Lord may be born in the greatest poverty; and as a termination of so many labors--of hunger, of thirst, of heat and of cold, of injuries and 1i9 C. A. HERBST Review for Religious affronts--that He may die on the Cross; and all this for me." (Spiritual Exercises: The Nativity.) The shadow of the cross was already falling on the Child in the manger. In fact, it is hard to explain Bethlehem without Calvary. Christmas points to Good Friday. When Mary "brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him up in swaddling clothes, and /aid him in a manger" (Luke 2:7), she presented the victim for the cross. Christ came "to give his life a redemption for many" (Mr. 20:28), and although, as His agony drew near, He naturally recoiled from it, He knew it must be so. "Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour. But for this cause I came unto this hour." (John 12:27.) "Jesus' began to do and to teach" (Acts 1 : 1). He taught first by example, then by word. "I have given you an example, that as I have done to you, so you do also" (John 13:15). This is true also of His sufferings. "Christ also suffered for us, leaving you an example that you should follow his steps" (I Pet. 2:21). No one of experience has to be told that life is full of suffering. We pray to Mary after Mass every morning: "To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping, in this vale of tears." We must unite our sufferings with Christ's sufferings and offer them with Him to God togethe~ with His own if they are to be precious in His sight. We realize this and do it every morning when we pray: "O Jesus, through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I offer Thee my prayers, works, joys and sufferings of this day." Even from the point of view of a good selfishness this is the wise thing to do. An old retreat master of wide experience told the priests making the thirty-day retreat: "Offer your miseries to God and they cease at once to hurt." Our Lord Himself then becomes our consolation. "For as the suf-ferings of Christ abound in us: so also by Christ doth our comfort abound" (II Cor. 1:5). Blessed shall we be if we are allowed to suffer something for Christ. The eighth and last and perhaps, judging from His own life, the greatest of the benedictions He spoke over His beloved fol-lowers was: "Blessed are they that suffer persecution for justice' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are ye when they shall revile you, and persecute you, and speak all that is evil against you, untruly, for my sake: Be glad and rejoice for your reward is very great in heaven." (Matt. 5:I0-12.) The apostles understood this well, and after they had been scourged "went from the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were accounted worthy to suffer 120 Ma~ , 1950 CONFORMITY WITH CHRIST reproach for the name'of Jesus" (Acts 5:41). It is most logical and correct that the members of the true Church of Christ from then till now should take the cross as their emblem and rally around it as the battle flag of their religion. From Constantine to the High Middle Ages Christ crucified was the victorious king: "'Regna~it a. li~lr~o Deus'" ("God hath reigned from the Cross"). Then came the spir-itual giants and moulders of affective prayer like Bernard and Francis and Bonaventure, with their ecstatic love for the Crucified. The mystics who followed them and the men and women in modern times who were in love with Christ crucified are almost count-less. The prophecy is fulfilled: "And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all things to myself." All things, especially lobe, the greatest of all things, and the hearts of men. Conformity with Christ in His suffering, a longing to suffer with Him, to suffer because He suffered, to be identified as far as possible with Christ in His suffering life, to be crucified with Him--this is the aim of those who love Christ perfectly. Union with Christ in His suffering is the finest expression of love for God here on this earth. This is the perfect way to tear ourselves away from sin. "Our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin may be destroyed, to the end that we may serve sin no longer" (Rom. 6:6). What with all his knowledge and ability Paul said: "I judged not myself to know anything among you, but Jesus Christ, and him crucified" (I Cor. 2:2). Nor was this a theoretical knowledge only nor a pious boast. It was St. Paul's glory to put into practice this knowl-edge. "God forbid that I should glory, save in .the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ; by whom the world is crucified to me, and I to the world" (Gal. 6: 14). Crucified and dead and risen to a new life: "And I live, now not I: but Christ liveth in me. And that I live in' the flesh: I live in the faith of the son of God, who loved me, and deliv~red himself for me." (Gal. 2:20.) This is to be a fool for Christ and with Christ. But "the fool-ishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men . But the foolish things of the world hath God chosen, that he may confound the wise, and the weak things of. the world hath God chosen, that he may confound the strong. And the base.things of the world, and the things that are contemptible, hath God chosen, and things that are not, that he might bring to nought things that are." (I Cor. 1:25, 27, 28). The author of the Spiritual Exercises caught this spirit perfectly and put it into his Third Degree of Humility. "In order to imitate and be more actually 121 C. A. HERBST like Christ our Lord, I want and choose poverty with Christ poor rather than riches, opprobrium with Cbrlst replete with it rather than honors: and to desire to be rated as worthless and a fool for Christ, Who first was held as such, rather than wise or prudent in this world." He explains a little more at Iength in another place, "For as worldly men who follow the things of the world, love and with great diligence seek honors, reputation and the credit of a great name upon earth, as the world teaches them, so those who are advancing in spirit and seriously follow Christ our Lord, love and earnestly desire things which are altogether the contrary; that is, to be clothed with the same garment and with the livery of their Lord for His love and reverence; insomuch that if it could be without offense of the divine Majesty and without sin on the part of their' neighbor, they would wish td suffer [eproaches, slanders and injuries, and to be treated and accounted as fools (without at the same time giving any occasion for it), because they desire to imitate and resemble in some sort their Creator and Lord Jesus Christ, and to be clothed with His garments and livery, since He clothed HimseIf with the same for our greater spiritual good, and gave us an example that, in all things, as far as by the assistance of God's grace we can, we may seek to imitate and follow Him, seeing He is the true way that leads men to life." (Examen Generale, IV, 4.) A woman saint, too, of modern times, St. Margaret Mary, caught, lived, and expressed in her own simple but powerful and almost rapturous way the necessity of being conformed to Christ in His suffering life if one is to love Him perfectly. "Ah! I assure you," she writes, "that without the Blessed Sacrament and the cross I could not live, nor could I bear the length of my exile in this valley of tears, where I have never wished to see my sufferings diminish. The more overwhelmed my body was, the more my spirit rejoiced and was at liberty to be occupied with and united to my suffering Jesus, for I had no greater desire than to make of myself a true and perfect copy and representation of my Jesus Crucified." (.Autobiography, No. 86.) "He also inspired me with so ardent a desire to conform myself to His suffering life, that all I endured seemed to me as nothing. This made me redouble my penances, and, prostrating myself at times at the foot of my crucifix, I said: 'How happy should I be, O. my dear Saviour, if Thou wouldst imprint on me the likeness of Thy suf-ferings!' " (Ibid., No. 29.) He did notdo this, but "He asked me for my heart, which I begged Him to take. He did so and placed it in His own Adorable Heart where He showed it to me as a little atom 122 1950 CONFORMITY WITH CHRIST which was being consumed in this great furnace, and withdrawing it thence as a burning flame in the form of a heart, He restored it to the place whence He had taken it, saying to me: 'See, My well-beloved, I give thee a precious token of My love, having enclosed within thy side a little spark of its glowing flames, that it may serve thee for a heart and consume thee to the last moment of thy life . Although I have dosed the wound in thy side, the pain will always remain'." (Ibid., No. 53.) His very next words crowned this Cal-vary with glory: "If hithertO; thou hast taken only the name of My slave, I now give thee that of the beloved disciple of My Sacred Heart." Calvary must be crowned with glory. "If we suffer, we shall also reign with him" (II Tim. 2:12) ; "If we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified with him" (Rom. 8: 17). "If you partake of the sufferings of Christ, rejoice that when his glory shall be revealed, you may also be glad with exceeding great joy" (I Pet. 4: 13), "knowing that as you are partakers of the sufferings, so shall you be also of the consolation" (II Cot. 1:7). Therefore I ought to count all things to be but loss "that I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made conformable to his death" (Phil. 3:10). "For I reckon that the sufferings of this time are not worthy to be compared with the glory to come, that shall be revealed in us" (Rom. 8 : 18). For "Eye hath not seen nor ear heard nor bath it entered into the heart of man, what things God hath prepared for them that love him" (I Cor. 2:9) by carrying the Cross and being fixed to it with Him. We should wish to be conformed with Christ in His suffering life out of worthy return love, because "He loved me and delivered Himself for me." Seeing Christ our Lord present and placed on the cross I ask myself: "What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What ought I do for Christ?" Th~ least I ought to do is offer lovingly to Him "my sufferings of this day" that they may console Him in His and be made precious' by union with His. We can make no mistake in accepting and offering patiently, lovingly, joyfully even to God whatever He permits to come or sends into our life. To want to have the sufferings and hard things that coffee our way because we then have what Christ had is to practice the third degree of humility and high virtue. We give clearer expression to tl~e "I want what You had" by inflicting physical pain on our body for love of Christ, by practicing corporal penances. This is a posi-tive, courageous, and "energetic ,approach towards conformity with 123 C. A. HERBST my suffering Savior, who first chose to suffer physical pain for love of me. "He loved me, and delivered Himself for me." To be wretched and miserable when we are not suffering with our blessed Lord, to pray with St. Theresa of Avila "to suffer or to die," is to have reached the heights. Conformity with Christ in His suffering has been the great aim and end of the Saints because His passion and death were the great aim and end of Christ. From Paul nineteen hundred years ago, who exclaimed, "With Christ I am nailed to the cross," to our own day when Th~r~se of Lisieux offered her life a sacrifice of love and repara-tion to God, this has been true. It must be true for. me, too, now, today, in a little way, finally in the full measure of the saints when we have grown to their stature. Yes, this is for me, too. After twenty, or thirty, or forty years, perhaps, but still for me. Mean-while I can pray: "I beseech Thee, most sweet Lord Jesus Christ, grant that Thy passion may be to me a power by which I may be strengthened, protected, and defended. May Thy wounds be to me food and drink, by which I may be nourished, inebriated, and over-joyed. May the sprinkling of Thy Blood be to me an ablution for all my sins. May Thy death prove to me life everlasting, and Thy cross be to me an eternal glory. In these be my refreshment, my joy, my preservation, and sweetness of heart. Who livest and reignest world without end. Amen." (Roman Missal.) ATOMIC BROTHERHOOD CAMPAIGN The purpose ot: the Atomic Brotherhood Campaign, organized by the Franciscan Teaching Brothers of the Diocese of Brooklyn, is to secure the prayers of youth for the increase of vocations to the teaching Brotherhoods. Schools receive posters and pledge cards on which the boy or girl checks off a spiritual contribution. Prayers and devotions already common to Catholics are used. In return for this offering, each member is enrolled in the club membership and receives a card signed by the director of the movement and a card containing a prayer for one's choice of a state of life. Already some ~/0,000 children in elementary and high schools, as well as some college students, have made a spiritual contribution. Full particulars and supplies necessary to take part in the Atomic Brotherhood Cam-paign may be secured from: Brother Linus, O.S.F., St. Francis Mon-astery, 41 Butler St., Brooklyn 2, N.Y. 124 0t: :he I-loly Ghost: Who Proceeds As love Leo. A. Coressel, S.J. IN THE MASS of Pentecost Sunday we pray: "Come, 0 Holy Spirit, fill the hearts oi~ Thy faithful and kindle in them the fires of Tby love." In the sequence of the same Mass we salute the Holy Ghost under various titles: as Father of the poor, as Comforter, as the soul's delightful Guest, as Relief of us pilgrims, as Light of life. Tbis song o~ praise ends with the petition: Grant us in life The grace that In peace rnag die and ether be in jog before The face AlT2en.1 These truths recall to mind matters that we all too easily forget. We forget who the HoIy Ghost is and what we owe to Him, that He is God, that He is our sanctifier, our strength and joy in life and our reward after death. If once these realities were deeply embedded in our consciousness and appreciated they would give timely stimulation to spiritual progress and to zeal for souls. One way to quicken such a realization is to broaden the horizons of our knowledge of the Holy Ghost. This can be done by consid-ering the names by which He is known, Their meaning will unfold to us something of His nature and point to reasons for His activity as proposed to us in the Mass of Pentecost Sunday. The names by which the Third Person of the' Blessed Trinity is designated are many. Chief among them are the following: Holy, Spirit or Ghost, Love, Gift, Paraclete, Spirit of Truth. Less com-mon are: Bond or Union of the Father and Son, Living Fountain, Power of God, Seal, Ointment, Fire. We want to concern ourselves here with the names by which the Third Person is chiefly known. These names tell us of His nature and office. In this way they differ greatly from ordinary human names. For example, names like John, Elizabeth, and Mary have an entirely proper meaning, but as desig-nating definite, individual men and women, they tell us nothing of their personality traits and human qualities. It is far otherwise with the names of the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity. They not 1The Saint Andrew Daily Missal. 125 LEO A. CORESSEL Review/:or Religious only identify Him but also tell us much about Him. We have, perhaps, taken for granted the names by which the Third Person is known. As part of our Catholic inheritance they have been familiar to us since childhood. But we may quite frankly ask ourselves just why the Holy Ghost is so called, why He is called Love, Gift, and so on. Reverently done such a questioning attitude of mind will prove exceedingly fruitful. The First and Second Persons are called Father and Son because of their mutual relationship. The First Person is really and truly Father and the Second Person just. as really and truly is Son. The First Person begets the Second. The Father begets the Son in an eternal generation. This divine generation is more than a figure of speech. The Father truly begets. The Son is truly begotten. We should not regard earthly fatherhood as the real thing and the divine fatherhood as but the shadow of the great reality. The fullness of generation is predicated of God and only secondarily of creatures. As St. Paul says: "For this cause, then, I bend my knees to the Father, from whom all fatherhood in heaven and on earth is named." (Eph. 3:14-15, Westminster Version. This version is also used in other Scripture quotations in this article.) We see now the reason why the Father and Son are so called. But why is the Third Person called Holy, Spirit, Love, Gift? We already recognize fatherhood and sonship from our own observa-tions. We know of human persons who are fathers and sons. But when we consider the Third Person we have no such guide to lead the way. We have, indeed, experienced love. We know the meaning of holiness and of spirit. The giving and the receiving of gifts are sources of joy. But we are not prepared beforehand for a person who is himself love, holiness, spirit, and gift. Such a person is out-side the range of our widest observhtions. He is beyond the realm of our natural knowledge. For these reasons the person of the Holy Ghost is more deeply obscure in the mysteries of faith than are the Father and the Son. The name by which the Third Person is most generally known is Holy Ghost. We may, then, begin with aft inquiry into the appropriateness of these two words as applied to the Third Person. The Father, as also the Son, is a spirit and is holy. Why, then, are these two words united and applied to the Third Person? St. Augus-tine tells us a reason: "Since the Holy Ghost is common to both, He Himself is called that properly which both are called in. common. For the Father is a spirit and the Son is a spirit: and the Father is 126 Ma~, 1950 OF THE HOLY GHOST holy .and the Son is holy." In other words, the Third Person is called Holy Spirit from the fact that proceeding from both Father and Son, He is called that which both have in common, namely, that they are holy and spirit. Another and a deeper reason why the Third Person is called Holy Spirit is found in the fact that He proceds from the Father and Son as Love. As this love, He is, first of all, rightly called Spirit, since the property of love is to move and impel; for example, love moves and impels the lover towards the beloved. But the word spirit also implies a certain impulse and movement. Hence He who proceeds as Love is rightly called Spirit. This is the teaching of St. Thomas Aquinas. He says: "The name spirit in things cor-poreal seems to signify impulse and motion: for we call the breath and the wind by the term spirit. Now it is a property of love to move and impel the will of the lover toward the object loved.''2 The procession of the Third Person may be further illustrated from our own everyday experience. We.are conscious of breathing as a movement of air into and out of the lungs. We know, too, that the word breathing is used of vehement acts of the will. We say that a man breathes out' love or hatred. Think of expressions like lovers sighing like a furnace, Saul breathing out threats. If we apply this to God, we can readily see why the Third person is called Spirit. Proceeding as Love from the Father and Son the Third Per-son is breathed forth by them. The Father and Son breathe forth a Breath, a Spirit, a Divine Person, the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity. Thus as Spirit, as Breath of the Father and Son, the Holy Spirit proceeds from them. This last illustration may be stated in another way. The love which one feels inwardly for a person or object is oftentimes extern-alized by a deep breathing or sigh, which is expressed in Latin by the word spiritus. The Father and Son express their infinite, eternal love for each other in a profound sigh' or breath, as it were. This breath is Spirit, the Holy Spirit, the Third Person, God, coequal with the Father and Son. As is true of spirit so als0 holiness has a relation to love. The Third Person proceeds as Love. But love makes one holy; it orders one rightly to God. Hence the Third Person is called Holy. This reasoning will appear "weightier if we recall that holiness in God is 2Surnma Theologica 1,, q.36, a.1. Literally translated by Fathers of the English Dominican Province. 127 LEO A. CORESSEL Review for Religious love of His own infinite being. The Third Person, then, who is possessed of infinite being, as are the Father and Son, and who is the expression of the infinite love of the Father and Son, is peculiarly called the Holy. The names by which the Third Person is most familiar to us are Holy and Spirit. But He is also called Gift. In the Acts of the Apostles (2:.38) we read: "Repent ye, and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ unto the remission of your sins; and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit." The Third Person is not just a gift. He is the Gift, just as He is the Holy and the Spirit. When a gift is given, love is the impelling force. In fact, love itself is the greatest gift one can give another. Now the Third Person proceeds as Love from the Father and 'Son and has an apti-tude to be given to men. He is, then, rightly and properly called the Gift. In this sense He is spoken of in the Veni Creator Spiritus: Thou who art called the Paraclete Best gift of God above The living spring, the living fire Sweet unction and true love.z It will be noted that the three names of the Third Person examined so far, Holy, Spirit, Gift, all have a relation to love. It is by this title, Love, that He is especially distinguished from the Second Person. The Son proceeds by generation from the intellect of the Father.' The Holy Ghost proceeds in a mysterious way as Love from Father and Son. The word love is somewhat abstract, although its action and personification are very concrete to us. St. Paul personifies love when he says: "charity is patient, is kind; charity envieth not" (-I 'Cor. 13:4). But we are not now speaking of such a love. The Third Person is not love personified. He is Love personalized, a Divine Person. " All this is very strange to us. But we have an aid in our own mental processes to help us along the way. When one loves another, He has within himself love, an act of the will, frequently called an affection of the will. This affection may endure over a long period of time. But it also may be lost because of neglect. It may even be replaced by hatred. But when the Father and Son love each other there results a substantial love, one who is Love, a Person, the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity. We know this because each of the 3Translation from Roman Breviary, Benziger Brothers. 128 Ma~, 1950 OF THE HOLY GHOST Three Persons is God, because the Holy Ghost proceeds as a Person from the will of the Father and Son, and because the Fathers of the Church call the Third Person Love inasmuch as works of love are attributed to Him in Sacred Scripture. "And hope does not prove false, for the charity of God is poured forth in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us" (Rom. 5:5). Another important name of the Third Person is Spirit ot: Truth. He is so called in the Gospel of St. John: "And I will ask the Father and he shall give you another Advocate . the Spirit of Truth" (I4:16-17). The Holy Ghost is called Spirit of Truth for several reasons; because He proceeds from Truth, that is to say, the Word, the Second Person; because He is sent to announce the truth; and lastly because He is the substantial love of truth and leads men to love the truth. This title should make us more aware of the neces-sity of daily invoking the Holy Spirit. We stand in danger of falling victims to the deceits of the world. We are in need of having divine truths brought home to us. Our heaven-given guide can and will enlighten us. He will also inspire us with a love of the truth that we may be able clearly to discern the wisdom of God in the midst of all modern deceits. , Finally the Holy Ghost is called Paraclete or Advocate. An advocate is one who defends his client, who pleads for him. He is an intercessor, a helper, a counselor. The Holy Ghost is our Para-clete, our Advocate. He aids us in our weakness, He pleads for us, He intercedes for us. St. Paul in the Epistle to the Romans (8:26- 27) says: "And in like manner the Spirit also beareth up our weak-ness. For we know not how we are to pray as we ought; but the Spirit himself pleadeth in our behalf with unutterable groanings. And he. who searcheth hearts knoweth what is the mind of the Spirit, how he pleadeth before God in behalf of the saints." The Holy Ghost is also our helper: "And no one can say 'Jesus is Lord' save in the Holy Spirit" (I Cor. 12:3). The Holy Ghost is our counselor. He calls us to good and aids us in our endeavors. He gives joy in accomplishment. We have seen how the Third Person is revealed to us as Love, Holy, Spirit, Gift, Spirit of Truth, and Paraclete. These names give us a glimpse of His sublime personality. They disclose reasons for the various offices attributed to Him. Proceeding as Love, He is the Holy Ghost, intent on our sanctification, a work of very great love. As Love he is comforter, Father of the poor. As Love He is Gift, the soul's most delightful Guest. He is Spirit of Truth and Para- 129 LEO A. CORESSEL clete, guiding us along the paths ot: truth and holiness. For all these reasons we should love the Holy Ghost. We should try to bring Him more and more into our everyday conscious-nest, since we owe Him so much in life, in death, and in eternity. Since He is Holy, should we not strive to be holy? Since He is Spirit, should we not daily seekthe things of the spirit? Since He is Love, should we not ask Him to inflame our hearts with the purest love? He gives Himself to us as a Gift; then we should in return give our-selves entirely to him. He guides us in the ways of truth and grace; we should, therefore, be most grateful to him. We may w~ll try to have continually in our minds and hearts one of the thoughts of the sequence of the Mass of Pentecost Sunday: To Tb~ sweet ~toke our stiff necks bow, Warm with Tbq loue our hearts of snow, Our wandering feet recall.4 Summer Sessions (Continued from P. 118) Sisters of St. Francis, St.o Coletta School, Jefferson, Wisconsin. The Confraternity of Christian Doctrine will offer a special training course at the Catholic University of America from June 26 to August 5. The aim of the course is to prepare Sisters, Brothers, and seminarians for the various fields of the Confraternity program. ¯ The courses of study will be conducted by the Very Reverend Fran-cis 3. Connell, C.SS.R. ; Sister M. Rosalia, M.H.S.H. : and Miss Mir-iam Marks. The first course concerns doctrine; the second, methods of teaching; the third, the apostolate. Students must register for all three courses. For further information write to: The Confraternity of Christian Doctrine, 1312 Massachusetts Avenue, N.W., Wash-ington 5, D.C. The Department of Education of Marquette University offers courses in moral and ascetical guidance. The ascetical course will be conducted by G. Augustine Ellard, S.J.; the moral course, by Gerald Kelly, S.J. These are graduate courses; enrollment is limited to Sis-ters. June 26 to August 4. For further information write to: The Registrar, Marquette University, 615 N. 1 l th St., Milwaukee 3, Wisconsin. The Religion Department of The Creight0n University offers: (Continued on P. 139) 4The Saint Andrew Daily Missal 130 Prac!:ical Applical:ion ot: Psychome!:rics Religious Lit:e Sister M. Digna, O.S.B. THE principles underlying the use of psychometrics in appraising applicants to religious life were discussed in a recent article.1 Although many communities do not hesitate to use the findings of the physician in determining the physical fitness of applicants to their congregations or orders, some religious are startled at the thought of utilizing the findings of psychological research in reference to religious vocations. Two recent studies2,3 indicate a new trend in the direction of establishing testing programs as one of the prelim-inary procedures for admission into the seminary and religious life. As communities employ testing techniques for diagnosing and asses-sing such factors as the intelligence, the personality, the interests, and the aptitudes of their candidates, they will discover that methods of therapy, amelioration, or control will bring about greater spiritual progress in their young religious. If the candidate enters religion from. purely supernatural motives, an objective ~self-analysis will eliminate much of the time often spent on self-scrutiny in trying to eradicate an overt fault that is rooted in a personality defect. With a better understanding of her own weaknesses and strengths, a young religious may approach the entire problem of self-improvement more intelligently. She will devote less time to self and more to God. Test results may be helpful in hastening the development of the super-natural life of the candidate, if admitted, and in screening out those who may be unfit for religious life. This report attempts to illus-trate in a concrete manner some of the predictive aspects of tests for ascertaining the possible adjustment or non-adjustment of applicants to religious life. Ordinarily the adjusted person is one who can adapt reasonably 1Sister M. Digna. "That God's Will Be Known." REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VIII, (,July 15, 1949), 201-207. -°Thomas J. McCarthy, "Personality Traits of Seminarians." Studies in Psycholoog and Psgchiatrg from the Catholic Unioersitg of America, V, (June, 1942), 1-46. 3Sister Richarda Peters, O.S.B., "A Study of the Intercorrelations of Personality Traits among a Group of Novices in Religious Communities," Studies in Psgchol-ogg and Psgchiatrg from the Catholic Uniuersitg of America, V, (December, 1942) 1-38. 131 SISTER M. Review t'or Religlous well to any reasonably adequate situation. Father Curran,4 who supports or at least bases his interpretation of adjustment on St. Thomas, says, in part, that adjustment does not mean merely compromising or coming to terms with problems but delving into the nature of reality. In other words, adjustment implies self-knowledge. To support the proposition that psychometrics can be used in detecting factors that will predict the future adjustment to life in religion, a group of high school and college records of individuals who later entered religion were examined. The results of intelli-gence tests and personality ratings were used to classify these young women into three groups: those who could be predicted to adjust well to religious life; those who could be predicted to adjust but with some difficulty: and those who would very likely not adjust. Later, the major superiors who were well acquainted with the subjects sub-stantiated the classification in all but one instance. The American Council on Education Psychological Examina-tion (ACE) had been administered to all these high school seniors and college freshmen. The American Council on Education Psycho-logical Examination is designed to measure the type of ability required for most college curricula. Although not all prospective subjects for religious life must necessarily be mentally equipped to do college work, the scores do show roughly more about the mental alertness of the individual than could be ascertained in a personal interview; and a low ranking percentile score would indicate that the mental ability of the individual should be appraised more specifically by administrating some general mental ability test. However, since the American Council Examination is considered by most authorities as a reliable index of intelligence, these scores were used to study the correlation between in.telligence and adjustment to religious life. While the correlation was reasonably high, it was not perfect, for several young women who were evidently very intelligent had failed later to make satisfactory adjustments. In these cases personality factors entered the picture. Sister Richarda Peters, O.S.B.,5 came to the same conclusion in her analysis of a group of novices in religious communities. She writes that cognitive ability (intelligence) showed no consistent relationship with the absence of undesirable traits. Evidently, high intelligence is no guarantee that the individual has no 4Charles A. Curran. Personality Factors in Counseling. (New York: Grune and Stratton, 1945), pp. 260-264. 50p. cir., p. 28. 132 May, 1950 PSYCHOMETRICS undesirable personality traits. Whether high, average, or low intelligence plays an important or a not too important part in the adjustment of individuals to life in religion, personality factors do explain many of the maladjustments in that state. Frequently, several factors contribute in precipitating a certain disorder of personality or behavior, any one of which can be credited as the last straw that broke the cameI's back. After all, it is the combination of several elements--familial, physical, psychological, and social--that relates to behavior disturbances' and influences adjustment to life and particularly to religious life. The four methods of evaluating or measuring personality charac-teristics generally employed are rating scales, intensive inter'iiewing,. anecdotal records, and paper and pencil tests. The paper and pencil tests will yield surprisingly good results, for many of the questions: on the test could have been asked in a long oral interview. Common' sense should operate in determining the purpose of the ratings, for no single test can be diagnostic of the total personality. Certain. inconsistencies of scores should be checked by retesting, preferably with a comparable form or another valid personality test. That personality tests are useful for discovering maladjustments in religious life has been noted in a research conducted by Thomas J. McCarthy~ on "Personality Traits of Seminarians." His study was not inter-preted in a predictive sense for screening or counseling, but was carried on with the hope "that such an investigation would be of help later on in developing an effective personality testing program.''r In the present report, the results of the Minnesota Personality Scale were used in studying the personalities of those Who later entered religious life. The Minnesota Personality Scale, while not so well-known nor so highly recommended as the Minnesota Multi-phasic Personality Inventory, the Bernreuter Personality Inventory, or the Bell Adjustment Inventory, is easily administered and is not too difficult to interpret. The scale is subdivided into five categories: morale, social adjustment, home and family relations, emotionality, and economic conservatism. Typical cases will be used here to indi-cate some of the possibilities of personality scales as a means of better understanding the individuals who desire to enter religious life. Where results of Strong's "Vocational Interests Blank" were avail-able, these findings were also included. The data on Student I who became Sister I was appraised. Every- 6Op. cit. rlbid., p. 1. 133 SISTER M. DIGNA thing pointed to an excellent adjustment in community life. The student ranked in the upper one-third of all college students who took the American Council on Education Psychological Test (ACE) throughout the countr)L The information from a questionnaire that Student I filled out as a freshman showed that. she was one of a large family in a good Catholic home. The other children in the.family had attended colleges and universities. Her schooling had been entirely Catholic. Her percentile score for morale on the Minnesota Personality Scale" indicated a wholesome attitude toward the Church, school, and government. Her social adjustment .percentile showed her to be reasonably gregarious and socially mature. The percentile score in the area of family relations was just on the borderline between good and bad: hence it needed interpretation. Here the data on the freshman questionnaire supplemented the results of the tests. From this data it was obvious that Student I had been wisely helped by her parents and older brothers and sisters to achieve a rather early emancipation from overdependence on her home and family. The student has no feelings of .rejection or insecurity, for her autobiogra-phy showed that her family life was contented, co-operative, and very happy. Her emotionality score indicated that she was emo-tionally stable and self-possessed. Her economic attitude was con-servative. Since this' student had taken the Strong's "Vocational Interest Blank," the data on her vocational interests were in the files. The basic interest types for Strong's Blank for women are five: (1) tech-nical, including interests paralleling those of dentist, physician, teacher of mathematics, and teacher of the physical sciences; (2) verbal or linguistic, embracing author, librarian, and artist: (3) business contacts, with interests in fields patterning those of life insurance saleswomen; (4) welfare, including the interests of those successful in teaching social sciences, lawydr, personnel worker, social worker; and (5) non-professional interests, as general office worker, nurse, stenographer-secretary, and housewife. The interests are further divided into primary pattern where the interest type shows a pre-ponderance of A- and B-plus scores on the specific occupat.ional keys: the secondary pattern is the interest type within which there are more B-plus and B-minus scores. Student I's primary interest pattern was in the area of authorship and teaching of English and social work. She possessed a high score in femininity, indicating that her interests were largely feminine in nature. It may be argued that much of this information about a well- 134 May, 1950 PSYCHOMETRICS adjusted girl would be self-evident and that tests, personality scales, questionnaires, and interest blanl~s were simply a waste of time. This example is used to illustrate that tests do have predictive value whether for reinforcing evidence at hand, or for detecting qualities. not so obvious. Student II, now Sister 2, was characterized also by her major superiors as "well-adjusted." Her intelligence score placed her in the lower third of the college freshmen group. Her profile on the Min-nesota Personality Scale showed her morale to be exceptionally high. One may predict, however, that an individual with a score as high as 'hers would likely take a naive and unquestioning attitude toward life; consequently, for her, obedience rarely will be ditScult. Her problem and that of her superiors will be to raise to a supernatural level her purely natural inclination to do what others command. Her social adjustment indicated a fair degree of socialization. This score, too, needs further interpretation. As an only child she was largely dependent upon her father for companionship, her social contacts with those of her own age were limited. Her high score in the area of family relations suggests overdependence on her family; in this case, on her father. In the area of emotionality, a score placing her in the "upper third of the group reveals that she. is emotionally stable a.nd self-poss~ssed. The results of the Strong's Interest Blank were available. A summary of the ratings demonstrates that Student II had primary patterns in three fields; namely, welfare work including social work, social science teaching, personnel, and law; the technical field as den-tistry, teaching of mathematics, and physician; and a third area, business. She had ~/ very low femininity score, signifying that her interests approximated those generally ascribed to men. Here the influence of close association with her father is observed. One of her expressed interests was that of music, but music fell into a ter-tiary pattern. In vocational guidance work, the counselor would encourage her to use music as a hobby and enter some other field more closely related to her primary interests. With her natural tendency to acquiesce to the wishes of her superiors, she may be able to adjust without resulting tensions to any work for. which she has aptitude. For Sister 2, if one were interested in test findings as a means of assisting young religious to adjust to the active part of their life, it might be advisable to retest her to ascertain whether or not any change of interests has occurred because of her close association with women. 135 SISTER M. DIGNA Review for Religious Sister 3, who was formerly Student III, is an example of how high intelligence and wise direction has resulted in a well-adjusted religious who definitely was faced with a serious fam!ly problem. With an ACE score that ranked her very high among college fresh-men, Sister 3 had both the spiritual outlook and the necessary in-sight tO give her a clear understanding of her problem. The Min-nesota Personality Scale indicated that her total score in the area of home and family relations placed her in the lower fourth percentile. This was very low. However, her other scores showed that she was socially apt and rather emotionally stable. She had developed spir-itual insights rather rare in students because she had spent her high school years under the guidance of a good spiritual director. With her natural qualifications and her confidence in God, Sister 3 is a good example of an individual who overcomes obstacles to the serenity and peace so essential to religious life. To illustrate further th'e possibilities of test results as one means for insuring a better adjustment, the records of Student IV, now Sister 4, were evaluated. This student had an unusually high score on the American Council Psychological Examination. She belonged. to a good Catholic family of five or six children. Her profile per-centiles on the personality test were: morale, very high; social rela-tions, low; family and home relations, high; and emotionality, very low. Her emotionality score in this profile may indicate that Sister 4 will need wise guidance and warm understanding. Her low average in social relations coupled with a low score in emotionality demon-strates inner tensions which may be due to a sense of inferiority or to an inclination to scrupulosity. An adequate analysis of the problem, the conflict, or the complex (be it a sense of inferiority, scrupulosity, or work dissatisfaction) will often ~eveal satisfactory courses of action for dealing with it. In young religious, it is important that faulty emotional s'tates do not become fixed. Usually such fac-tors are not rectified easily in middle life, but ordinarily these prob-lems can be corrected in young people. Hence in the case of this Sister some definite follow-up testing may be required, unless supe-riors have considerable time to devote to Sister 4 in order to help her overcome some rather dangerous natural tendencies and to supplant them with the supernatural motives of humility, confidence in God, and obedience" to spiritual directors. How do test results aid in such instances? They point out emotional states that .perhaps a gay exterior hides very successfully, and this very attempt to inhibit worries and anxieties should be avoided. 136 Mag, 1950 PSYCHOMETRICS Student V, or Sister 5, ranked in the lower one-third of the psy-chological examination. The personality profile would lead one to predict that this young woman would have considerable difficulty in adjusting as her score in the area of social relations was very low, implying that she is socially inept and is undersocialized with feelings of inferiority. In religion, she may be characterized as "unworldly" whereas she is definitely anti-social. Undoubtedly, religious life will be a decided asset in helping this Sister to overcome her sense of inferiority and social ineptness if she is helped to under-stand that her attitude toward externs is not necessarily a virtue but a personality defect. By working with this young woman, a supe-rior or another Sister may help her to see the introverted tendencies, not as commendable virtues, but as personality defects. Unworldli-hess should be based upon the supernatural life and not upon per-sonality disorders. The next four sets of records concern young women who entered religious life, but either withdrew or were asked to withdraw. The test results, if these had been used in a predictive manner, might have been means of guarding communities against accepting applicants who were very likely unable to adjust. Two of these young women might have been directed into other communities where their adjust-ment might have been more easily made. The profiles of Students VI and VII might have been interpreted to predict a poor adjustment or none at all. The score on the psychological examination of Student VI placed her in the lower five per cent of the high-school graduates who were going to college. This student would have had a difficult task in getting admitted into any college. Her scores on the Minnesota Personality Scale were as follows: morale, zero; social relations, low; home and family relations, very low; emotionality, very low; and economic conservatism, exceptionally low. Her low morale pre-dicted that superiors would have a difficult time to help her achieve a spiritual outlook on obedience. The fact that her intelligence was low would explain an additional difficulty--she would be incapable of any deep insight into her own personal limitations. The score in the area of family relations suggests that her home life had been unhappy. Superiors will need to scrutinize and to watch the motives of any candidate whose home life has been entirely unhappy, as the applicant, though totally unconscious of it herself, may be using religious life as an escape mechanism. The emotionality score would predict that this young woman will need the help of a psychiatrist in 137 SISTER M. DIGNA Reoieu~ ~or Religious adapting herself to normal living in the world let alone within con-ventual wails. Her low score in the area of economic conservatism indicates that she has pronounced tendencies toward a radical way of life. One may say that since this student was not very intelligent, she was unable to understand the test questions and, consequently, the results may be spurious. Even were that true, then the objection could be raised that that in itself would be sufficient reason for rejecting her since she would be unable to comprehend the duties and responsibilities of religious life. Her test score, however, indicated that sloe would fall among the low average of the total population, which is not an indication that she was a moron. Low average intelligence is no barrier to getting along in the world, and it may not be so for the convent; but supplemented by her personality traits, it would be a poor hazard for religious communities to accept an applicant whose intelligenc.e and personality traits were similar to that of Student VI's. Student VII entered the candidature of a community, but she remained there only a short time. From her personality test, one might have predicted a difficult adjustment because of her person-ality traits. Although her intelligence score ranked her in the upper fifty per cent of college students, or average, her personality profile showed that she would have difficulty. Both the scores attained in morale and social adjustment were very low: her family relations were average; her emotionality was also very low, and her economic conservatism was low. The prediction based on these results would be that the probability of Student VII adjusting to any community life is very slight. Two students who entered religious life without persevering might be representative of applicants seeking admission into the wrong type of community. Both young women had intelligence scores which ranked them in the upper third of the college freshmen in the country. The personality profile of one followed this pattern: morale, very high; social adjustment, average; family relations, very low; and emotionality, very high. This applicant may have had potentialities for developing into a good religious if her motives for entrance were 'supernatural, but the low score in family relations stresses the fact that unhappy home conditions may have exerted ~ressure in sending this girl into the convent. Apparently, she never revealed the home conflict to any one, but instead compensated by creating a fantastic family life for herself. Her overdrawn picture of her home led superiors and companions to question the honesty of 138 Mar , 1950 PSYCHOMETRICS the girl. She was asked to withdraw. The other student also ranked in the upper third of those tested throughout the country on ¯ the ACE. Her personality profile pointed to very high scores in all are'as; morale, social adjustment, family relations, emotionality, and economic conservatism. One may conclude that her high social score suggests that she does not like to be alone, or, more serious in its implications for religious life, that she may be flighty and unstable. ¯ If she is one who is definitely the extrovert type and wishes to con-secrate herself to God, she might be directed to an active order rather than to a community that emphasizes the contemplative life. This student, who withdrew from religious life of her own accord, still feels she has a vocation. This attempt to illustrate the predictive possibilities of psy-chometrics in a program for the recruitment and training of subjects for religious life is necessarily only exploratory in nature. If com-munities would develop even. a very simple testing program and exchange their findings, it might be possible at some future date to devise a definite type of measuring instrument to assess personalities, attitudes, and interests in terms of fitness for religious life. First, however, a certain antagonism which exists against the use of tests needs to be broken down. " Then communities may need to train one or more of their personnel in the construction and use of tests. The barrier is not insurmountable, for'a simple in-service program for those who are now responsible for the admission, retention, and training of young religious can be established. In a short time com-munities may discover further possibilities in the use of psycho-metrics, not as an only means, but as one aid for screening and devel-oping religious. A thorough understanding of the factors that make for better adjustment in religious life may pay off spiritual dividends that will insure better adjusted religious seeking God through self-purification and through work and prayer. "Summer Sessions (Continued from P. 130) Divine Revelation, by Leo A. Coressel, S.3.; and The Church of Christ, by Ph'ilip T. Derrig, S.3. Session will also include institutes on: Remedial Reading, Guidance Program, and Communication Skills. ,June 9 to August 3. For further information write to: Director of Summer Session, The Creighton University, Omaha 2, Nebraska. 139 Lay Religious and !:he Laws ot: Bishops on Cont:ession Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. ALL RELIGIOUS realize that they are subject to the universal laws of the Church enacted for religious. These laws are found in the Code of Canon Law and also in the instructions, decrees, and replies that have emanated from the Holy See since the promulgation of the Code.1 Religious are also subject to the local Ordinaries to the extent determined by canon law (canon 500, § 1). The local Ordinaries may exercise their authority over religious not only by particular directions or precepts but also by law. Subjection to a law creates also an obligation of acquiring a knowledge of the law, and this obligation is especially incumbent on religious superiors. The laws of the local Ordinaries are called particular laws, since their obligation is usually restricted to a partic.ular territory. The universal laws of the Code are of obligation everywhere for the Latin Church. These particular laws may be enacted by the individual Ordinary for his diocese or by many Ordinaries united in a council. In the United States the laws of the Second and Third Plenary Councils of Baltimore are of obligation in the entire country.2 The bishops of a particular ecclesiastical province may also unite in a provincial council and legislate for all the dioceses of the province. In a diocese the sole legislator is the bishop, who may make his laws in a synod or outside the time of a synod. About eighty dioceses of the United States have modern and printed diocesan legis-lation, published in book form and "obtainable from the respective chanceries. These diocesan statutes are almost universally in Latin, but an English translation, at least of the principal articles, is some-times appended. The purpose of this article is. to give Brothers, nuns, and Sisters an idea of the types of laws concerning confession of 1The practical way of studying such documents published to the end of 1948 is from T. L. Bouscaren, S.J., The Canon Law Digest, 2 vols. and 1948 Supplement (Milwaukee: Bruce Publishing Company). Later documents can be found in ecclesiastical periodicals. 2Acta et Decreta Concilii Plenarii Baltimorensis II. (Baltimore: John Murphy, 1868). Acta et Decreta Concilii Plenarii Baltimorensis III. (Baltimore: John Murphy, 1886). 140 LAY RELIGIOUS AND LAWS OF I~ISHOP£ the various dioceses and councils of this country that have been estab-lished for them or are of practical interest to them. I. General Norms Bishops promulgate their laws in the diocesan synod, the diocesan newspaper, at the conferences or retreats of priests, in pastoral letters, in the diocesan ordo, and in circular letters. From the very nature of law, the bishop wills that religious obtain a knowledge of any law that he has enacted for them. This is the reason for the common precept of diocesan statutes that the faithful are to be instructed in all diocesan laws that affect the laity. Some diocesan statutes explic-itly command all religious of both sexes to acquire a satisfactory knowledge of both the universal and the particular law concerning religious.3 It has also been established in a few dioceses that supe-riors are to have the laws and letters of the Ordinary that affect religious read publicly4 or explaineds in the religious houses. Reli-gious houses should thus possess either the complete diocesan statutes: or a list of at least the statutes that affect religious. Every religious house should also have a file under the beading of the diocese or the. local Ordinary. In this file all letters of the Ordinary that are in any way legislative in character should be preserved. Precepts or instruc-tions of a permanent nature given orally by the Ordinary should be reduced to writing and enclosed in the same file. This will help to. prevent the misunderstanding that is always a danger in. a mere oral expression of law, precept, or instruction, and it will also place this necessary knowledge at the disposal of future superiors. One or two. dioceses have commanded that all public documents concerning the relations between the diocese and the religious should be shown to the local Ordinary at the quinquennial visitation.6 II. Ordinar~t Confessors (canon 520, § I) Canon 520, § 1 commands that an ordinary confessor be appointed for.every house of religious women. Relying on a reply of the Holy See given before the Code of Canon Law, some authors have held that there is no obligation of appointing an ordinary con-fessor for small houses that number less than six Sisters. This is 3Fargo 158; Acta et Decreta Concilii Provincialis Portlandensis in Oregon Quarti 171. The councils and dioceses cited in this and the following footnotes are in-tended as examples, not as a complete enumeration. Unless otherwise indicated the numbers with regard to councils and dioceses always refer to paragraph numbers. 4Fargo 155; Port. Ore. Prov. 169; Trenton 108. SPort. Ore. Prov. 7: Richmond 69. 6port. Ore. Prov. 170: Trenton 109. 141 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Reuiew [or Religious contrary to the better interpretation of the canon, since it is not in accord with the general wording of the canon nor with private inter-pretations given by the Holy See. The consequences of such a doctrine are also not desirable. Such small convents constitute a sizable fraction of the communities of a diocese. These convents are at least very frequently located in small and isolated towns, wh~re the only priest is the pastor. The pastor, since he exercises authority over the parish school and is well known to the Sisters, is not a desirable priest as confessor. The isolated location of so many of these communities would make the approach to another confessor most difficult. The evident intent of the Code is to give Sisters as much liberty and facility for confession as possible, but the opinion stated above would give many communities of Sisters almost no liberty or facility for confession. The Bishop of Belleville explic-itly states in his law that ordinary confessors must also be appointed for small houses.7 III. Obligations of Ordinary and Extraordinary Confessors (canons 520, § 1 and 521, § I) Diocesan law universally and insistently inculcates the obliga-tions of ordinary and extraordinary confessors of Brothers, nuns, and Sisters. The bishops demand that all ordinary confessors hear the confessions of tbelr communities once a week, on a suitable day and hour, agreed upon with the superior. One diocese has enacted that the ordinary confessor must never allow a second week to pass with-out hearing the confessions of the community to which be has been assigned,s The laws of another diocese oblige the ordinary confessor of religious women to report to the Ordinary if, for any cause, he has not fulfilled his duties for one month.9 At least two bishops state that wilful neglect of this duty can constitute serious matter.1° The following law is especially practical and opportune: "The ordinaries [i. e. ordinary confessors] of the Sisters are exhorted to be most zealous and self-sacrificing in giving ample opportunity to the Sis-ters, especially to those in isolated localities, of going to confes-sion.' ul The failure of the ordinary confessor to appear in convents in isolated localities causes an almost insoluble difficulty. The canonical solution is that the superioress should summon one of the supplementary confessors, but very few dioceses either in their statutes 7Belleville 34. 8Des Moines 81. 9Toledo 79. 10Davenport 32; Nashville 92. 11Davenport 32: Nashville 92: Owensboro 47. The italics in this and subsequent citations are mine. 142 Ma~t, 1950 LAY RELIGIOUS AND LAWS OF BISHOPS or diocesan faculties have appointed supplementary confessors. The extraordinary confessor may reside at a great distance, and the reli-gious are rightfully hesitant to call on him constantly. The next effort at a solution is for the superioress to make the use of occa-sional confessors as easy as possible, but the very nature of an iso-lated community reduces this solution to legal theory. The pastor is at least very frequently the only priest in the place,.and the work of the Sisters and the isolation of the town may make travel to another town a practical impossibility. It is also true that places at no great distance from large cities can be practically isolated. Equal fidelity is imposed by diocesan law on the extraordinary confessors, who are to perform their duties four times a year, prefer-ably during the Ember weeks. The bishops emphasize that confessors of religious are to fulfill their duties with a conscientious regard for the direction of souls towards the higher life of christian perfection. As means to this end diocesan law quite generally commands the ordinary and extraordi-nary confessors of religious to devote themselves intensively to the study of moral, ascetical, and mystical theology, of the common law of the Code concerning religious, and of the constitutions of the par-ticular institute.12 A careful reading of the canons on religious will show that very few of them directly affect the daily lives of religious. The obligation of these laws is usually incumbent on stiperiors. Modern constitutions also do not give many norms of the spiritual life. In the present practice of the Holy See constitutions are com-posed in great part of canons and other legal articles that the Sacred Congregation of Religious demands. It will, therefore, be oftentimes much more practical for the confessor to study the spiritual directory, ~scetical summary, or custom book of the institute rather than its constitutions. An exaggerated idea of secrecy must not prevent the superior from giving these books to the confessor. IV. Special Ordinary Confessors (canons 520, § 2; 528) The Bishop of Wheeiing states very clearly the sane norm of 12Confessors will find the following books helpful for a study of the laws that gov-ern lay institutes: IDom Pierre Bastien, O.S.B., Directoire Canoniqt~e a l'usage des Congregations ~ Voeux Simples (Bruges: Ch. Beyaert, 4th edition, 1933): Creu-sen- Ellis, Religious Men and Women in the Code (Milwaukee: The Bruce Pub-lishing Company, 3rd English edition, 1940); Rev. Fintan Geser, O.S.B., The Canon Law Governim3 Communities of Sisters (St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1938) : Rev. Bernard Acken, S.3., A Handbook for Sisters (St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1931). Bastien is especially helpful, since he also treats the legal articles that originate from the practice of the Sacred Congregation of Religious. 143 ,JOSEPH F. GALLEN Reoiew ~Cor Religious conduct in this respect: "All Religious are admonished to use this privilege of requesting a special confessor only for their spiritual good and greater progress in religious virtues, apart from all human con-siderations. Should a special confessor perceive that there is no need of him, let him dismiss the Religious prudently."'13 The special con-fessor himself 'is in the best position to judge whether his work is necessary or proportionately useful. He should observe the prudent norm of the law quoted above also at the time that the religious asks him to be a special confessor. It is frequently possible for a priest to realize at the time of the petition that the particular religious will not profit by having a special confessor. It is even possible to encounter a religious who asks for a special confessor and yet has no idea of the purpose of such a confessor. It is not unknown for a reli-gious to be under the impression that all religious should have a spe-cial director. Even priests can be imbued with the same principle. Spiritual books and maxims can be misunderstood in this matter. V. Supplementarg Confessors (canon 521, § 2) Canon 521, § 2 commands the local Ordinaries to appoint at least two supplementary confessors available for each convent of reli-gious v~omen in their dioceses. These confessors may be summoned in particular cases for one or more Sisters or even for the entire com-munity, for example, in the absence of the ordinary confessor. The extraordinary confessor of the commuhity is always to be considered also a supplementary confessor. As has been stated above, very few dioceses mention the supplementary confessors either in their statutes or diocesan faculties, but their appointment can be and oftentimes is made by other means.In some dioceses all the pastors as well as all ordinary and extraordinary confessors of religious women are the supplementaries for all convents of the diocese.14 Harrisburg assigns this office to all pastors of the episcopal city and of each deanery for the religious women of that particular district.~s Other dioceses men-tion that the supplementaries will be announced in opportune time by the 10ca1 Ordinary.~6 VI. Occasional Confessors of Religious Women (canon 522) Sisters are well aware that, for peace of conscience, they may go to confession in any legitimately designated place to any confessor ~3Wheeling p. 52. ~4Buffalo, Dubuque, Peoria, Pueblo. The diocese of Des Moines has the same but excludes the pastor. 15Harrisburg 27. 16port. Ore. Prov. 188: Trenton 112. 144 ' Ma~ , 1950 LAY RELIGIOUS AND LAWS OF BISHOPS approved for women. Diocesan law usually merely reaffirms the canon in this matter. However, there is a reminder that the right given by canon 522 does not free anyone from the observance of. religious discipline.17 VII. Place for the Confessions of Religious Women (canons 522, 909-910) The Code of Canon Law prescribes that the confessional for Sisters should ordinarily be placed in their chapel and that their con-fessions are not to be heard outside the confessional, except in case of sickness or real necessity, and with the observance of the precimtions prescribed by the local Ordinary. It is admitted that there can more readily be a justifying cause for placing the confessional of Sisters outside the chapel, for example, in the sacristy, a room adjoining the chapel, or some other convenient room. It is forbidden to hear the confessions of women and also of religious women outside of the con-fessional except for reason of sickness, weakness of old age, deafness, the probable danger of a sacrilegious confession or of seriou~ infamy, and for other reasons of like import. When a place is to be destined habitually for the confessions of Sisters, it should be designated by the authority of the local Ordinary or according to the norms that he has established. Diocesan law may command that it be designated by the local Ordinary.18 At such times as retreats it is frequently necessary to erect additional movable confessionals in the convents of Sisters, and practically always these confessionals are outside the chapel. " The designation of such temporary places of confession may be made by the superioress or the confessor. The Second Plenar~ Council of Baltimore~9 and diocesan law in general in the United States rigidly enforce the canonical prescriptions on the place for the confessions of women. One diocese has enacted a reserved suspension against confessors who violate these norms,2° and in some other dio-ceses a confessor is liable to a suspension for the same violation3~ For hearing confessions within the papal cloister of nuns of sol-emn vows the Holy See has prescribed the following precautions: "Two nuns shall accompany the confessor to the cell of the sick nun and shall wait there before the open door of the cell while the priest hears the confession, and accompany him again when he returns to IZ'Port. Ore. Prov. 183. ISSavannah-Atlanta 51. WConc. Plen. Bait. II, 295-296. 20Cheyenne I, 109, 115. 21Philadelphia 31: Pittsburgh 119, 1: Scranton 52, 2. 22Sacred Congregation of Religious, February 6, 1924. Cf. Bouscaren, Canon Law Digest, I, p. 318. 145 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review/or Religious the monastery gate.''22 Some diocesan statutes also prescribe that the door is to be left op.en while the .confession of any sick woman is being heard,va It is evident that the door is to be closed if there is any danger whatever of the confession being overheard. This excep-tion is also stated in diocesan law. The emphasis on place with regard to the occasional confessor of religious women has caused at times the error that the legitimate place is required for the oaliditg of any confession of women or at least of religious women. Place as such is required only for the liceity of the confession. Therefore, the legitimate place is not required for valid-ity in the case of the ordinary, special ordinary, extraordinary, or supplementary confessors of religious women. The same is true of any confessor wbb already possesses special jurisdiction over the reli-gious woman whose confession be is to bear, for example, a retreat master. It is certain from a reply of the Code Commission that the legitimate place is required for the validity of confession to an occa-sional confessor of religious women, not by reason of ~itself, but simply because the Code has made it one of the two essential condi-tions for gi~;ing him jurisdiction over the religious woman whose confession be is to hear and which be otherwise lacks. Even in this case there will be little fear in practice of an invalid confession. If the confessor has even probably and according to his prudent judg-ment any of the reasons listed above that justify the hearing of the confessions of women outside of the place of the confessional, the confession will be certainly valid. VIII. Opportunitg [or Confession (canon 892) Diocesan law in general reaffirms canon 892, which obliges pas-tors and all priests who have the care of souls to hear the confessions of the faithful in their charge whenever they reasonably ask to be beard. The bishops state that there are to be fixed days for confes-sion, which are not necessarily to be confined to Saturday but are to include as many days as are necessary for the particular church.24 Other fixed days are the vigils of feasts and the day before First Fri-day. Several dioceses command that confessions be heard before Mass on Sundays, holydays, and First Fridays, but these confessions must not be permitted to delay the beginning of Mass. Confessions are also to be beard at the reasonable petition of the faithful outside of tbes~ fixed times. 23Buffalo 73; Pueblo 148. 24Cf. Conc. Plen. Balt. II, 291. 146 May, 1950 LAY RELIGIOUS AND LAWS OF BISHOPS A second and sufficiently large class of diocesan statutes prescribes that confessions are to be heard before and even after daily Mass in the parish churches.2s It seems strange that diocesan law, which has granted the daily opportunity of confession t6 the very pious faithful who attend daily Mass, has not extended a similar facility to reli-gious. One diocese has given the daily opportunity of confession to religious.2~ This singularity is intensified by the fact that the basic reason for the greater opportunity of confession could ~not have been unknown to diocesan legislators. Cardinal Glennon stated in his statutes of 1929: "It is clearer than the noonday sun that our Holy Mother Church, in favoring the frequent reception of Holy Com-munion, by that very fact demands that the faithful be given a fre-quent opportunity of confession even on weekdays.''27 It will be of interest to study the documents of the Holy See con-cerning the greater opportunity to be giv.en to religious for confes-sion. The first pertinent document is the Code of Canon Law itself, which in canon 595, § 1, 3° does not say that religious are to be given the opportunity of confession once a week but at least once a weeh. Th~ second document is the Reserved Instruction on Daily Communion and Precautions to be taken against Abuses.2s The instruction opens with a general section, which applies also to reli-gious. In this section the Sacred Congregation first reaffirms the principle of Cardinal Glennon: "Together with frequent Commun-ion, frequent confession also must be promoted.''29 The Sacred Con-gregation then speaks of the daily opportunity of confession before Mass: " . . but that the faithful who live in communities should not only go to confession on stated days but should be free to go, without any remarks from their Superior, to a confessor of their own choice, and, what is especially important, that they should have the opportunity to mahe a confession also shortly before the time of Communion.''~° The text of these words shows evidently that they apply also to religious. In the very next paragraph the Holy See reaffirms the same principles: "Accordingly Pastors of souls must make every effort to provide in each community, according to the 25Belleville 111; Boston 75; Brooklyn 175: Charleston 95; Evansville 71; Gal-veston p. 34; Indianapolis 69: Lincoln p. 35; Natchez 128: Paterson 155: Trenton 173. 26Raleigh 54. 27St. Louis 75. 28Sacred Congregation of the Sacraments, December 8, 1938. The complete English translation can be found in Bouscaren, Canon Law Digest, II, pp. 208-215. 29Instruction II~ 2: Bouscaren II, p. 210. 30Instruction, ibid.: Bouscaren, ibid. 147 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious number of members, one or two confessors to whom each one may freely go. They must keep in mind the rule that, where frequent and dail~l Communion is in vogue, frequent and dail~l opportunitg for sacramental confession as far as that is possible, must also be afforded."zl The last pertinent document is the new list of questions for the quinquennial report to the Holy See, where we find the question: "'Do Superiors diligentlq see to it that confessors be easil~l available before Communion . . . ?32 This question refers to all classes of reli-giotis institutes approved by the Holy See. The Sacred Congregation of Religious could not reasonably ask religious superiors whether they were providing confessors before Communion unless, in some sense at least, it was incumbent upon superiors to make such provision. The do.ctrine of more frequent opportunity for confession, con, sequent upon the instruction quoted above, is not unknown in can-onical commentaries. Thus one author states universally: "Wherever frequent or daily Communion is practiced, adequate opportunity for sacramental confession must be provided frequently, i. e. at least two or three times a week.''3~ This opinion was written before the pub-lication of the new questions of the quinquennial report added greater weight to the doctrine on frequent opportunity for confes-sion, at least with regard to religious. The following conclusions appear to be evident: 1) It is at least the desire of the Holy See that local Ordinaries and religious supe-riors provide, as far as they can conveniently do so, an opportunity for confession before daily Mass to religious, and especially to Brothers, nuns, and Sisters. The greater necessity with regard to lay institutes arises from the fact that confessors reside in the houses of clerical institutes. 2) As a general norm, the priest who says the daily Mass in houses of Brothers, nuns, and Sisters is the one to give this opportunity. It would be incredible that the Holy See did not realize that this priest is ordinarily the only confessor who can be in the religious house, with any convenience, at the time of daily Mass. 3) The instruction quoted above warrants a wide interpretation of canon 522, which treats of the occasional confessor of religious women. Such a confessor may not only enter the confessional before 31Instruction II, 2, a); Bouscaren, ibid. 32The List of Questions for Religious Institutes and Societies of Pontifical Right (Rome: Polyglot Printing Press, 1949), q. 85. 33J. N. Stadler, Frequent Holg Communion (Washington: The Catholic University of America Press, Inc., 1947), p. 134. 148 May, 1950 by the confessor. 4) should provide at least tunity of confession. able. 5) The time of confessions. LAY RELIGIOUS AND LAWS OF BISHOPS daily Mass when he is requested to do so by the superior or one or more of the religious but he may himself spontaneously enter the confessional at this time.34 The daily opportunity of confession is at least a directive of the Holy See and may thus be licitly introduced The designation of the place for confession one place that is suitable for the daily oppor- The chapel will very frequently not be suit-the daily Mass should not be delayed by such The practice of the daily opportunity of confession must also be commended because of its intrinsic merit. Many religious will occa-sionally take advantage of the opportunity and there will be no rea-son whatever to notice the religious who believes that he must go to confession before Communion. Some very highly esteemed authors have advised eliminationof precedence in receiving Communion, that the abstention from Communion by a particular religious might not be noticedP5 If the daily opportunity of confession is given, there will be no need of abstention from Communion. Furthermore, the efficacy of the elimination of precedence for this purpose, at least in the United States, can be very seriousl3) doubted. A glance at the Catholic Directory reveals at once that by far the greatest number of " religious houses is composed of convents of Sisters. I believe it also safe to assert that about two-thirds of these convents contain fifteen or less Sisters. A study of the number in the convents of four large Eastern dioceses grouped together reveals that 68 per cent of the con-vents contain 15 or less Sisters, 50 per cent have less than 12, and 41 per cent have less than 10. Convent chapels are also usually small. The consequence is that no matter what place the Sister takes in chapel or what order is followed in receiving Communion, her abstention will be very noticeable in the greater number of convents. IX. Mone~ Offerings in the Confessional All confessors in the United States are forbidden by the Second Plenary Council of Baltimore to receive even voluntary money offerings of any nature and for any purpose, including Mass stipends, in the confessional.36 This law is quite generally reaffirmed in dio- 34Cf. Regatillo, lnstitutiones luris Canonici. I, n. 670 to the contrary with re~ard to liceity. ssCf. Bergh, Review for Religious, III (1944) 262-263: Creusen, ibid., VIII (1949) 89-90. ~r'Conc. Plen. Balt. II, 289. 149 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious cesan statutes, which in some dioceses extend the prohibition to offerings made on the occasion of confession. The severity with which the Baltimbre law is urged is manifested by the fact that the" confessor who violates it is punished with a suspension in several dioceses.37 Religious, therefore, should not offer Mass stipends to a priest in the confessional. X. Interference in the Internal and External Government of an Institute of Religious Women (canon 524, §. 3) The prohibition of this interference by canon 524, § 3 directly affects only the ordinary and extraordinary confessors of nuns and Sisters. However, no one, unless properly delegated to do so, may assume or obstruct authority that is legitimately possessed by another. Therefore, from the very nature of the matter, this interference is forbidden to all, clergy or laity. Greater vigilance will be required from those whose office or duties render the transgressions of this pre-cept more possible, such as pastors, chaplains, the special ordinary and supplementary confessors, and retreat masters. The internal government is the authority proper to the superiors of a religious institute.Its object is the order of the day, community and spiritual exercises, the transfer and employments of subjects, permissions, dispensations in disciplinary matters, penances given by superiors, the observance of religious discipline, the admission to the postulancy, novitiate, professions, etc. By external government is meant the relation of the community to external superiors, that is, the Holy See, the local Ordinaries, and regular superiors in the case of nuns subject to regulars. This authority includes such matters as the erection and suppression of religious houses and tbe external activity of the institute. No priest or confessor should intrude his ;:lirections, counsels, and much less his commands in such matters. When asked he may give for the particular case the sense of the obligations of divine or ecclesi-astical law and he may also state what he thinks is the better, the more practical and prudent policy in a particular matter. He may not, however, authoritatively impose his will in these matters. For example, he may not command that the employment of a Sister be changed but he may advise her to ask the superior for such a chfinge. He may recommend a candidate for admission into an institute but he may not command that she be admitted. 37Altoona 41; Harrisburg 40, 1"; Philadelphia 32; Pittsburgh 118, 1"; Wheeling p. 32. 150 May, 1950 LAY RELIGIOUS AND LAWS OF BISHOPS The laws of the bishops of the United States manifest great interest in the protection of the internal government of religious institutes. The bishops adopt primarily a positive attitude by pre-scribing that all priests and especially pastors are, as far as possible, to aid religious in spiritual and temporal necessities and so to arrange matters that the religious may be able to live according to their rule.38 The bishops extend the' prohibition of the Code to all con-lessors, 39 priests?° and especially to chaplains41 and pastors.42 In some dioceses chaplains are-explicitly commanded to abstain scrupu-lously from all public judgment or criticism of the religious or of their actions.43 The avoidance of the appearance of interfering in internal, gov-ernment will oftentimes demand a very delicate and sensitive pru-dence from the confessor and especially from the chaplain. Sisters should aid and not obstruct priests in the fulfillment, of their obli-gation. It would be profitable for some religious to recall that they are obliged to fulfill not merely the directions of superiors of which they approve, that the directions of which they do not approve do not by that very fact constitute matter for appeal to the confessor or chaplain, that in the presentation of any grievance to a priest they use care to give not only the facts and arguments for themselves but also those against themselves, and, finally, if they repeat to others the advice of a priest, they are to use scrupulous care to repeat his advice accurately and completely. The priest in these matters is in a defenceless position. It is possible for a confessor or a priest to have some false prin-ciples in this matter. He should never verify the plaint of one mother general: "You would think that all confessors believed that all superioresses were always wrong." The presumption of the con-fessor should be that the superior is right; the contrary is to be proven. Otherwise he brings to the confessional a principle that is at least obstructive of authority. Sympathy for penitents is a most laudable and Christlike virtue in a confessor but it should not blind ¯ 38Fargo 160, 1; Lincoln p. 23; Natchez 275; New Orleans 275, 310; St. 30- seph 33. 39Fargo 160, 1; Indianapolis 46, 2: Los Angeles 64: Salt. Lake 47: San Fran-cisco 115; Savannah-Atlanta 50; Wheeling p. 53. 40Fort Wayne 158: Harrisburg 26: Los Angeles 64: Port. Ore. Prov. 179. 41Dubuque 68; Evansville 45: Fargo 137; Indianapolis 44: Nashville 68 (b); Omaha 104, 1"; Pueblo 68; San Francisco 108: Toledo 71. 42Fargo 160, 1: Nashville 68 (a) ; Salt Lake 47: San Francisco 115. 43Fargo 137; Omaha 104, 1". 151 ~OSEPH F. GALLEN him to the truth that a great many people are not good witnesses in a matter of self-interest. A very brief experience in the priesthood, if thoughtful, will reveal that personal difficulties have at least the tendency to focus the light on favorable facts and arguments and to leave in shadow and darkness the contrary facts and arguments. It is also to be presumed in matters of external conduct that superiors have a much more complete and accurate knowledge of the subject than the confessor. It is likewise to be realized that the discontented, insubordinate, and factious religious very frequently and eagerly seeks to ally priests to her cause. She does not always fail, and the accurate measure of her success is all too often and lamentably the consequent loss in religious discipline, unity, and obedience. Finally, the confessor must never forget that his primary norm is to direct a religious penitent to Christian perfection. If we take the example 6f a difficulty with a superior and suppose the confessor is certain that the superior is in error or even bad faith, the advice of the confessor should not always be to stand up for one's rights or to appeal the matter to a higher superior. The norm of perfection will very fre- quently be to submit to such an action of a superior at least with resignation; the higher degrees of perfection are to submit with glad-ness and joy, and even with desire. XI. Chaplains as Confessors (canon 522) Four or five dioceses forbid a chaplain to hear the confessions of the Sisters of the convent, unless he has the special jurisdiction requi-site for religious women. The sense of this prohibition must be that the chaplain is not to obt.rude on the duties and rights of the ordinary confessor, siiace canon law gives to any priest approved for the con-fessions of women the right of being validly and licitly the occa-sional confessor of any religious woman. Such a prohibition will also in practice not be in conformity with the daily opportunity for confession explained above. our CONTRIBUTORS RICHARD LEO HEPPLER is chaplain at the Novitiate of the Franciscan Broth-ers of Brooklyn. C. A. HERBST and LEO A. CORESSEL are members of the faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. SISTER M. DIGNA is professor of psy-chology at the College of St. Scholastica, Duluth, Minnesota. ,JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. 152 .uesUons and Answers .~13~ Our constitutions prescribe that the Little Office of the Blessed Virgln be recited in common every day. (I) Must the common recitation be in Latin7 (2) If one is absent from the common recitation, is one obliged to recite that part of the office privately? (3) May one who is obliged to recite the Little Office privately do so in English? (4) Must the external rubrics (lowering of the sleeves, prostrations, and the like) be observed when one says the Office by oneself? (1) Unless the constitutions prescribe otherwise, religious who are bound to the recitation 0f the Little Office by reason" of their con-stitutions only, may recite or chant the Little Office in common in the vernacular, provided an approved translation be used. (2) The obligation of reciting or chanting the Little Office imposed by the Constitutions per se rests on the community, not on the individual. Hence if a religious is absent from the common reci-tation of the Little Office he is not obliged to recite it privately unless the constitutions or custom require him to do so. (3) When the constitutions prescribe that the Little Office must be recited in common in Latin, those who are excused from the com-mon recitation but still obliged by the constitutions to recite it pri-vately may recite it in the vernacular unless the constitutions pre-scribe otherwise. (4) In the private recitation of the Little Office the rubrics (kneeling, st'anding, and the like) need not be observed--much less such customs as are mentioned by way of example in this question. We may add a word here about the requirements for gaining the indulgences attached to the recitation of the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin. (a) When the Little Office is recited publicly it must be recited in Latin in order to gain the indulgences. But when it is recited privately the indulgence may be gained for the recitation in th~ vernacular (S. Cong., Indulg., 28 aug., 1903). (b) The recitation of the Little 'Office of the Blessed Virgin is considered private (as far as indulgences are concerned) even though it is recited in common by a religious community, provided that it is recited within the walls of the religious house, or even in the church or public oratory with the doors closed (S. Cong. Indulg. 18 dec., 1906). Additional informa-tion regarding the Little Office may be found in an article entitled "The Little Office of Our Lady" in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Jallu-ary 1947, p. 18. 153 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religiohs 14 In order to obtain the plenary indulcjence at the moment of death attached to the so-called "happy death" crucifixes, is it necessary that the dylncj person hold the crucifix in his hand, or is it sufficient that it be attached to his person in some other way? The answer to this question is contained in a declaration of the Sacred Penitentiary given June 23, 1929, in the following words: "Anyone of the faithful being at the point of death, who shall kiss such a blessed crucifix, even if it does not belong to him, or who shall touch it in any way, provided that having gone to confession and received Holy Communion, or if unable to do so, being at least con-trite, he shall have invoked the Most Holy Name of Jesus by pro-nouncing it if he could, or if not, by devoutly invoking it in his heart, and who shall patienffy accept death from the hand of God as the wages of sin, shall be able to gain a plenary indulgence." [Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 21 (1929), 510]. It may be helpful to our readers to recall that this indulgence for the dying is one of the few that may be gained ?or oneseff outside of Rome during the Holy Year of 1950. IS What is to be said of the policy of lay rellcjious superiors (Brothers and Sisters) who forbid their subjects to fast durincj Lent and at other times when the law of the Church prescribes fastincj? Several points need to be recalled before this question can be clearly and satisfactorily answered. 1. Theologians and canonists speak of tWoodifferent standards of fasting, absolute and relative. Both standards allow only one full meal a day (dinner), which may be taken about noon or in the eve-ning. This is the only meal at which meat is allowed. The differences between the two standards concern the other two meals, breakfast and lunch (supper). These differences are described as follows in Theological Studies, March, 1949, pp. 93-94: "According to the absolute norm, there is a fixed limit for these repasts, which limit applies to everyone. This limit has been tradi-tionally phrased in terms of two and eight ounces, but these are merely moral estimates, and it is certainly safe to describe the abso-lute norm as allowing 'two or three' ounces for breakfast and 'eight or ten' ounces for lunch. "The essence of the relative norm is that it allows to some.ektent for varying individual needs." Each one is allowed what he needs at 154 Mag, 1950 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS breakfast and lunch in order to preserve his health and do his work. However, even the most ardent proponents of this norm agree that it has some limit. They agree that the combined quantity of the two minor repasts must not equal a second full meal; and they usually agree that it should fall notably short of this quantity, for example, sixteen to twenty ounces. But it should be noted that they allow this quantity to be divided, according to individual needs, between the breakfast and supper; they do not set a hard and fast rule that allows only a meager breakfast. "Quantity is the primary difference between the absolute and relative norms, but not the only difference, particularly as regards breakfast. Though some explanations of the absolute norm are ~ather vague as to quality, it is rather commonly said that the break-fast is limited to 'bread and coffee or some other drink.' According to the relative standard, the only universal qualitative limit is that meat may not be taken at breakfast or lunch." 2. The law of fasting applies to all the faithful who have com-pleted their twenty-first year and who have not yet begun their six-tieth year. However, the law is not intended to impose an extra-ordinary hardship or to defeat a greater good; hence those who can-not fast without extraordinary hardship for themselves or others or without interfering with the duties of their state of life are excused from fasting. The very first number of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (I, 42-46) contained a full explanation of these excusing causes, especially as they might apply to religious. .The canon law gives the power of dispensing from fasting to local ordinaries, pastors, and superiors of exempt clerical orders. Many other priests obtain the same power by delegation from one of these or from the Holy See. A dispensation may be given for any of the reasons usually assigned as excusing causes, and even for a less serious reason. But it may not be given without some good reason. Other priests besides those mentioned in the preceding paragraph cannot give a dispensation from fasting. But when they see that a person is really excused from fasting they may certainly tell him he is not obliged to fast. This may be done also by a prudent layman who knows both the law and the excusing causes. Hence lay reli-gious superiors (Brothers and Sisters) may certainly tell their sub-jects they are not bound to fast when they know that the subjects are excused. This is not an exercise of ecclesiastical jurisdiction; it is simply an unofficial declaration of an existing fact: namely, that an excusing cause is present. 155 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Retffeto for Religious Strictly speaking, there is no obligation to ask for a dispensation when one has a reasonable assurance, based on one's own judgment or on the decision of a competent adviser, that one is excused from fasting. It seems that some religious institutes have a rule or custom to the effect that subjects must always consult their confessors about fasting; but, apart from such special provisions, there seems to be no reason why the confessor must be consulted when one. has a clear excusing cause. 3. It should be obvious from what has been said that the abso-lute standard more readily admits of excuse than does the relative standard. For instance, it seems that comparatively few religious engaged in the active apostolate could fast regularly during Lent according to the absolute standard without hurting their health or their work; whereas a much larger number could safely fast according to the relative standard. Until a few years ago the dioceses of our country consistently enjoined the absolute standard; lately there has been a noticeably growing tendency to establish the relative standard. We presume that the question we have been asked to answer refers to conditions existing under the absolute standard of fasting; and our answer is based on that supposition. Now, to answer the question: A lay superior may make a pru-dent judgment that a subject is excused from fasting; and, granted this prudent judgment, he may counsel the subject not to fast. Moreover, the superior may even order the subject n~t to fast if an order is necessary. In this case the superior does not command the subject to.disobey the law of the Church; for in the supposition that an excusing cause exists the subject is not bound by the law. The superior may exercise this power of discretion and authority with regard to any subject who is excused from the law of fasting. Ordinarily, however, he should be content with counseling the sub-ject not to fast; the use of a command would seldom be advisable. Moreover, the superior should not act arbit[arily. It may be true that under the absolute standard of fasting the greater part of a com-munity would be excused from fasting, but this would not justify a policy of telling the whole community they are excused from fasting. Some religious can fast without harm to themselves or their work, and the superior has no right to tell them not to do so. The fact that the rigor of the absolute standard made it impos-sible for large numbers of religious to fast seems to have brought about a very undesirable condition in.some pla'ces. There is a ten-dency to look upon religious who do fast as "singular." This is a 156 May, 1950 sorry state of affairs in a religious house. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 16 I have read somewhere that laymen are forbidden to bless. Yet we d6 meet religious groups of nuns where the mother superior imparts a blessing fo her religious, e.cj. after an instruction or after giving a permission to cjo out. Would you kindly explain the nature and value of such a blessing? A distinction must be made between a public blessing, that is, ~ne given in the name of the Church by a duly authorized minister, and a prit, ate blessing, given in the name of the person who does the blessing. -Obviously only one who is a cleric is empowered to bless in the name of the Church. On the other hand there is nothing to forbid a parent to call down God's blessing on his child. That is what a lay religious, superior does when he blesses his subjects according to the directions of the constitutions or by custom. --17-- I have often come across a reference to Caussade, "Sacrament of the Present Moment." Could you tell me where I can find this treatise or book? Perhaps your readers would be interested in the substance of the idea, if it can be put in a few words. Caussade's idea of the "Sacrament of the Present Moment" is thus briefly explained by him in his Abandonment to Divine Provi-dence in Book I, Chapter I, Section II, p. 3: "There are remarkably few extraordinary characteristics in the outward events of the life,of the most holy Virgin, at least there are none recorded in holy Scripture. Her exterior life is represented as very ordinary and simple. She did and suffered the same things that anyone in a similar state of life might do or suffer. She goes to visit her cousin Elizabeth as her other relatives did. She took shelter in a stable in consequence of her poverty. She returned to Nazareth from whence she had been driven by the persecution of Herod, and lived there with Jesus and Joseph, supporting themselves by the work of their hands. It was in this way that the holy family gained their daily bread. But what a divine nourishment Mary and Joseph received from this daily bread for the strengthening of their faith! It is like a sacrament to sanctify all their moments. What treasures of grace lie concealed in these moments filled, apparently, by the most ordinary events. That which is visible might happen to anyone, but the invisible, discerned by faith is no less than God operating very great things. O bread of angels! heavenly manna! pearl of the 157 BOOK NOTICES Review [or Religious Gospel! Sacrament of the present moment! thou givest God under a~ lowly a form as the manger, the hay, or the straw. And to whom dost thou give him? 'esurientes implevit bonis' (Luke 1, 53). God reveals himself to the humble under the most lowly forms, but the proud, attaching themselves entirely to that which is extrinsic, do not discover Him hidden beneath, and are sen.t empty away.'.' (English translation from tenth French Edition, by E. J. Strickland, The Catholic Records Press, Exeter, England, 1921). BOOK NOTICES LIFE AND MIRACLES OF ST. BENEDICT, by St. Gregory the Great, is now published in a new translation by Odo J. Zimmer-mann, O.S.B., and Benedict R. Avery, O.S.B. This excellent trans-lation of a little spiritual classic is the first to appear in twenty-five years. It is the second of the four books of Dialogues of St. Gregory the Great, Pope and Doctor of the Church; and, apart from the famous Rule of St. Benedict, it is the only source we have for the life and character of the founder of Western monasticism. Tile trans-lators have succeeded in preserving the charming simplicity of St. Gregory's account, and the dialogue form gives the author an opportunity of making moral and doctrinal reflections on the miracu-lous events of Benedict's life. Gregory puts into the mouth of Peter, his deacon, questions we all would like to ask: "What an astounding miracle! . , . How is it possible for anyone to see the whole universe at a single glan.ce?" Then Gregory explains the wonderful vision of St. Benedict. This little treasure of spirituality, written primarily to encourage the Italian people in a time of war and devastation, contains an excellent and timely mess~ige for the world today. (Col-legeville, Minn.: St. John's Abbey Press, 1949. Pp, xv q- 87. $2.00 [cloth]; $.90 [paper].) I1qIGO DE LOYOLA, by Pedro Leturia, S.J., portrays the early life of Ifiigo, before he was wounded and converted and set on the jour-ney that led to his using the name of Ignatius and founding th~ Society of Jesus. The work is scholarly and scientific, not popular. The translator is A. J. Owen, S.J. (Syracuse, N. Y.: LeMoyn~ College Press, 1949. Pp, xiii ÷ 209. $4.50.) THE SPII~ITUAL LIFE OF THE PRIEST, by Father M. Eugene Boylan, O.C.R., is a collection of articles which originally appeared 158 May, 1950 BOOK NOTICES in The Priest. Purposely dir.ecting his essays to the American clergy, with American conditions in mind, and with his usual pru-dent and fearless approach, Father Boylan discusses several aspects of a priest's spiritual life in an unmistakably practical way. His pur-pose is to help the priest form an attitude of mind rather than to map out a program. "If that attitude is correct and sincere, and has its roots in a man's heart and in his convictions, he should not have over-much difficulty in planning his own spiritual life with the help of a competent adviser, and adapting his plan, without destroying it, to each set of circumstances." Worthy of special mention is the chapter on clerical celibacy. (Westminster, Md.: The Newman Press, 1949. Pp. 161. $2.50.) SCALE THE HEIGHTS, by Canon Paul Marc (translated by Rev. Joseph A. Fredette), is a collection of brief, meditative essays written to inspire lay persons to seek for perfection. The subjects treated include the Mass, prayer, the use of time, the Blessed Virgin, the value of life. The simplicity and fervor with which the book is written cannot fail to impress the reader; at times, however, an over-charge of emotion mars the effectiveness of some of the chapters. Though written originally for the laity, religious will find the book helpful in appreciating the motives thatshould direct their lives. (New York: Frederick Pustet Co., 1949. Pp. xii + 236. $3.00.) The Church wants Catholics everywhere, even in mission areas, to study the history of the Church in their own locality. Up to now, the lack of a suitable textbook has been a hindrance to such study in the seminaries of the United States. THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN THE UNITED STATES, by Theodore Roemer, O.F.M.Cap., fills this need. At first sight, one would think the organization of the book most artificial, as each chapter covers a ten-year period. But the story r'eads with a sweep and without ever losing sight of the fact that Catholic history in the United States is just a tiny part of the larger story of the Church universal. (St. Louis: B. Herder Book Com-pany, 1950. Pp. viii + 444. $5.00.) FAIR AS THE MOON, by Father M. Oliver, O.Cist.R., is intended to portray "the sweet humanity of our mother." The author makes Our Lady imitable in every respect: as child, as young maiden, as a real mother. He reveals the too often neglected human side of Mary in such a way that it inspires a truly warm, personal love, and com-plements reverential love. (Dublin: M. H. Gill U Son, 1949. Pp. xi q- 235. 12s. 6d.) 159 BOOK NOTICES Reoieto /:or Religious Another book on Our Lady is MARY THE BLESSED THE BE-LOVED, by Father Timothy Harris. It presents in a succinct and readily understandable way the Church's teaching on the Blessed Virgin. A thorough reading of this book will help the ordinary person to grasp the dogmatic foundations of devotion to Our Lady and to disl~inguish what is of faith from what is mere opinion. Each chapter refers to some definite feast or liturgical season. For this reason the book should be useful for special readings about Mary, as well as for sermons and conferences on the occasion of Mary's feasts. (Dublin: Clonmore ~ Reynolds, Ltd., 1949. Pp. 119. 7s. 6d.) Among the latest competent and well-documented volumes that describe the development of individual religious congregations of women are Sister Mary Borromeo Brown's HISTORY OF THE SISTERS OF PROVIDENCE OF ST. MARY-OF-THE-WOODS, Volume I (New York: Benziger Brothers, 1949. Pp. xiii + 826. $6.00), and two volumes on the history of the Congregation of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, Monroe, Michigan, by Sister M. Rosalita: No GREATER SERVICE and ACHIEVEMENT OF A CENTURY (Detroit: Evans-Winter-Hebb, Inc., 1948. Pp. xx ÷ 863, and xiii + 299. $15.00 per set). Both congregations are responsible for part of the magnificent development of the Church around the Great Lakes region. All three volumes are decidedly readable and valuable addi-tions to the history of the Church in North America. Those interested in theology for the layman will welcome the publication of GOD AND THE WORLD OF MAN (Pp. viii ÷ 318), by Theodore M. Hesburgh, C.S.C., and THE CHRISTIAN VIRTUES (Pp. xi -k 361), by Charles E. Sheedy, C.S.C. They are the first two volumes of the University of Notre Dame Press religion series. The first volume includes a chapter defining theology and explaining its sources and another chapter on the nature, obligation, rule, and subject matter of faith; and the remainder of the book is given to these tracts of theolbgy: The One God, The Holy Trinity, Creation, The Elevation and Fall, The End of the World'and of Man. The second volume contains the course on Christian morals that has been given to students at the University of Notre Dame during the past several years. It includes the moral theology treatises on Principles and Precepts. In general, both volumes seem excellent for their pur-pose and should make good texts for college and university classes, as well as for summer sessions in theology for Sisters. For the most part, both texts avoid disputed questions, and the treatise on moral 160 May, 1950 BOOK NOTICES " theology contains no "problems for discussion." There is much to be said for these methods, but they have disadvantages, too. Avoidance of disputed questions helps to avoid confusion, but it also tends to undermine confidence when the students later find out that there are different opinions. And the avoidance of the discussion prob-lems, besides keeping the book from becoming too large, also prevents an unwholesome "casuistic" attitude. However, without working problems the students will hardly learn moral theology; hence teachers will have to supply them. (Notre Dame, Ind.: University